Days of the week answers
Well, that was certainly a busy week! Did you ace the quiz?
1. Getting the Hang of Thursdays by hayseed_42
2. The Fifty-Third Tuesday by sophierom
3. Easy Like Sunday Morning by camillo1978
4. I Don't Like Tuesdays by silburygirl
5. Are We Still On For Friday? by Corazon
6. Freaky Friday by debjunk
7. Raindrops on Thursday by darkheartwalsh
8. Sixty Mondays by Spyke Raven
9. A Hallowe'en Tail by subvers
10. Saturdays by sapphiretragedy
1. "Good morning, Severus," Albus had said calmly on his right, startling him out of his shock. "I see you noticed that we're out of marmalade."
"Erm... yes..." he managed, eyes still locked on Granger, who was currently spearing a piece of toast with her fork. She was dead. He'd seen the body, had held her hand as her eyes slipped closed. She was supposed to be dead.
Albus was speaking again. "... this evening," he heard.
Severus coughed and finally looked away from the chatting girl. "What?"
"I asked if you would be available for patrols an hour earlier this evening," Albus said. "Severus, are you all right?"
I'm fine, Albus," he replied absently. "What day is it?"
His eyebrows rose and his forehead furrowed. "Thursday, of course. The twenty-fifth."
"Huh..." Severus said. "I thought it was Friday."
Getting the Hang of Thursdays by hayseed_42
2. We don’t send notes saying, “See you at 7:00, Darling!” or “Drinks at 8:00?” We just arrive when we arrive. That is, until today, when his owl - I didn’t even know he had one until this morning - scratched at the window of my flat.
May not be there tonight. Detentions. ~ SS
I try to think of this unprecedented communication as a sign of his respect for me. Or perhaps it’s a symbol of the permanency of our strange relationship. But I feel in my gut that it represents the end.
But if it’s an end, wouldn’t there have to be a beginning? Nursing a watery scotch - you know, I used to drink red currant rum before he convinced me to switch - I try to remember a clear-cut start to the thing.
The Fifty-Third Tuesday by sophierom
3. Which was followed, strangely, by a second thump.
Which was followed by a distant voice, uttering marvellously magical words that got closer and closer until they blared right in his ear.
“Coffee: two sugars. Croissants: butter and blackcurrant jam. It’s on the bedside table, so mind you don’t knock it over.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Severus mumbled.
“Sorry?”
“I was having a terrible dream.”
Hermione shoved a lanky leg out of the way and sat on the bed. She leaned over him and grabbed a croissant, trailing a merry stream of pastry flakes across the duvet as she straightened up.
Easy Like Sunday Morning by camillo1978
4. This acceptance of her lot loaned her a sort of Zen outlook as first Snape, then Draco came crawling into the kitchen. She even made them both breakfast without voicing a complaint and had just sat down to write a note to the current-time Draco, when she glanced out of the window to see two people crossing the street in front of the building. Within five minutes, Harry and the present-time Draco had appeared in her flat, dripping wet and laughing.
“February twenty-second, 2017,” Draco announced, offering her a box of chocolates. “The day that I changed my own life and the day that you will probably need these the most.”
With a grin, she ushered them through the doorway. “You couldn’t have intervened in the beginning and saved me this week from hell?”
“But that would be wrong,” Harry retorted. “You’re the one who always enforced the rules when it came to time travel.”
“I’ve changed my mind considerably,” she grumbled, leading the way into the sitting room. The young Draco hung mutely in the doorway to the kitchen, while Snape didn’t even bother to glance up from the book he was reading.
I Don't Like Tuesdays by silburygirl
5. "Problem, Hermione?" he asked in a deep, silky voice. His voice always made her quiver and now was no different. Especially the way his black eyes stared at her.
"Problem?" she snapped. "Of course there is a problem! The entire Order of the Phoenix thinks that we are shagging like rabbits!"
"And why, foretell you, is that a problem?"
"Because we are not shagging! We are not even dating…" Her eyes found the floor. "…yet…" she mumbled. Looking back at him, she snapped, "We haven't even shared our first kiss!"
"Well then," he said smoothly as he moved into a sitting position. "What do you suppose we do?"
"We? Are you kidding me? You are the one who started the rumors! They are all lies! Harry thinks you have me swinging from the chandelier every night!"
"That is a problem. I specifically told Potter that I had you tied up and bent over my desk. It was Tonks I told about the chandelier," he sneered.
Are We Still On For Friday? by Corazon
6. “Hermione, those should have been cut on the diagonal and you only needed four!” he bellowed at her as he came to her side.
She looked at him in shock, and then down at the cauldron, only to watch it explode in her face. Both she and Severus tumbled back onto the floor and lay there unconscious for several minutes.
Slowly Hermione rose from the ground and rubbed her head. Something felt weird. Her hair seemed a bit too straight. She glanced over at Severus and her jaw dropped. Instead of Severus, she saw herself sit up and rub her eyes. The witch’s hands wiped goo from her face. Hermione looked down at her own hands and saw masculine ones meeting her gaze. She looked down at her body and recognized the black robes of her Potions professor.
“Oh, crap,” she said in Severus’ voice.
“Oh, crap,” she said again.
By this time, Severus was staring at her, realization dawning on him.
“Hermione?” he asked in shock.
“That would be me,” she said in his deep voice. “What happened?”
Severus looked at her angrily. It wasn’t quite as effective coming from her face though.
Freaky Friday by debjunk
7. “Can you grow my hair back?” she asks him one day. Her hand rubs her scalp, the short, baby-thin hair tickling her palm.
He looks up, his eyes locking with hers. They narrow as he takes in her face.
“No.” His answer is curt, and she wonders what she did to offend him.
“But you have a wand. It can’t be that difficult,” she says like a petulant child. She’s sick of feeling ugly. “I’m not powerful enough to do it on my own.”
He gets up from the table, looming over her. His face is close, and his large, beak-like nose almost touches her own. It scares her to see him like this. A single tear slips down her cheek even as she wills herself not to cry.
“I said no.” His breath is so hot on her face that she feels as though her skin is burning.
Beauty may only be skin deep, but it doesn’t make her want it any less.
Raindrops on Thursday by darkheartwalsh
8. She leaned over the cauldron and breathed in, her nostrils quivering, trying to see if she needed to start shredding plants again. No, it seemed to be all right. Good thing too. She was nervous enough today.
The hibiscus decoction was almost ready too. It required the upper solution to be decanted, concentrated through boiling and then decanted again. Decanting was a delicate operation and she breathed hard while performing it, biting lightly into her inner cheek.
Forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven through fifty. She poured the last possible drop from the second cauldron and noted with satisfaction that not a shred of twisted leaf polluted it. It was easy now. All she had to do now was wait.
Professor Hermione Granger, youngest ever Potions Mistress of Hogwarts watched the flame under her second-best brass cauldron, and swore as it flickered. Re-lit it with a muttered spell and settled back to watch with greater care.
She didn't invoke any of Merlin's parts when she cursed, simply because she never had; a fact that always afforded him great amusement. Besides, her true hopes rested in Nimue, who surpassed her master and locked him in a tree that only she could open.
When he woke up she would tell him this and watch his smile. When he woke up, not if.
Sixty Mondays by Spyke Raven
9. Severus opened his eyes, slowly waking from a dream. Hazily he wondered at the time; the candles usually illuminated in the mornings to let him know breakfast would soon be served in the Great Hall, and it was still dark. With an unspoken command, he lit the candles on his bedside table and ascertained that it was after seven -- which meant it was Wednesday.
Dear Merlin, how he loved his Wednesdays.
On Wednesday his first class was after lunch and the two hours before lunch were his so-called 'office hours.' His own loose interpretation of this silly idea of Dumbledore's was, 'only have to be available if a student has made a specific appointment to see me' - which meant that he was free to spend his Wednesday mornings in bed with his bride, because who would voluntarily descend to the dungeons and subject themselves to the singular misery of extra time with the Potions master?
Rolling to his side, Severus feasted his eyes upon Hermione.
A Hallowe'en Tail by subvers
10. On Tuesday he still had no clue as to where she was, but he knew where she had been the day before. He thought about procuring a Time-Turner and going to her. In the end he decided against it. When she tired of the chase she would allow him to find her. He had seen her once. It was just a glimpse of her hair, but he knew it was her. She was in a bookstore standing on a ladder reaching for a large tome on the topmost shelf and then when he blinked, she was gone. That glimpse had been enough for him to begin his hunt. He knew some how that she had meant for him to see her. When she left, he knew it would not be forever. She had told him once, as they were working on their potions in the final days before Harry had died killing Voldemort, that if she were to leave, she would return but only if she knew someone would be waiting for her. He always thought she had meant Potter or Weasley, now he knew she had meant him. So he hunted making sure she knew he was looking and waiting for her to tire of her games.
Saturdays by sapphiretragedy
1. Getting the Hang of Thursdays by hayseed_42
2. The Fifty-Third Tuesday by sophierom
3. Easy Like Sunday Morning by camillo1978
4. I Don't Like Tuesdays by silburygirl
5. Are We Still On For Friday? by Corazon
6. Freaky Friday by debjunk
7. Raindrops on Thursday by darkheartwalsh
8. Sixty Mondays by Spyke Raven
9. A Hallowe'en Tail by subvers
10. Saturdays by sapphiretragedy
1. "Good morning, Severus," Albus had said calmly on his right, startling him out of his shock. "I see you noticed that we're out of marmalade."
"Erm... yes..." he managed, eyes still locked on Granger, who was currently spearing a piece of toast with her fork. She was dead. He'd seen the body, had held her hand as her eyes slipped closed. She was supposed to be dead.
Albus was speaking again. "... this evening," he heard.
Severus coughed and finally looked away from the chatting girl. "What?"
"I asked if you would be available for patrols an hour earlier this evening," Albus said. "Severus, are you all right?"
I'm fine, Albus," he replied absently. "What day is it?"
His eyebrows rose and his forehead furrowed. "Thursday, of course. The twenty-fifth."
"Huh..." Severus said. "I thought it was Friday."
Getting the Hang of Thursdays by hayseed_42
2. We don’t send notes saying, “See you at 7:00, Darling!” or “Drinks at 8:00?” We just arrive when we arrive. That is, until today, when his owl - I didn’t even know he had one until this morning - scratched at the window of my flat.
May not be there tonight. Detentions. ~ SS
I try to think of this unprecedented communication as a sign of his respect for me. Or perhaps it’s a symbol of the permanency of our strange relationship. But I feel in my gut that it represents the end.
But if it’s an end, wouldn’t there have to be a beginning? Nursing a watery scotch - you know, I used to drink red currant rum before he convinced me to switch - I try to remember a clear-cut start to the thing.
The Fifty-Third Tuesday by sophierom
3. Which was followed, strangely, by a second thump.
Which was followed by a distant voice, uttering marvellously magical words that got closer and closer until they blared right in his ear.
“Coffee: two sugars. Croissants: butter and blackcurrant jam. It’s on the bedside table, so mind you don’t knock it over.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Severus mumbled.
“Sorry?”
“I was having a terrible dream.”
Hermione shoved a lanky leg out of the way and sat on the bed. She leaned over him and grabbed a croissant, trailing a merry stream of pastry flakes across the duvet as she straightened up.
Easy Like Sunday Morning by camillo1978
4. This acceptance of her lot loaned her a sort of Zen outlook as first Snape, then Draco came crawling into the kitchen. She even made them both breakfast without voicing a complaint and had just sat down to write a note to the current-time Draco, when she glanced out of the window to see two people crossing the street in front of the building. Within five minutes, Harry and the present-time Draco had appeared in her flat, dripping wet and laughing.
“February twenty-second, 2017,” Draco announced, offering her a box of chocolates. “The day that I changed my own life and the day that you will probably need these the most.”
With a grin, she ushered them through the doorway. “You couldn’t have intervened in the beginning and saved me this week from hell?”
“But that would be wrong,” Harry retorted. “You’re the one who always enforced the rules when it came to time travel.”
“I’ve changed my mind considerably,” she grumbled, leading the way into the sitting room. The young Draco hung mutely in the doorway to the kitchen, while Snape didn’t even bother to glance up from the book he was reading.
I Don't Like Tuesdays by silburygirl
5. "Problem, Hermione?" he asked in a deep, silky voice. His voice always made her quiver and now was no different. Especially the way his black eyes stared at her.
"Problem?" she snapped. "Of course there is a problem! The entire Order of the Phoenix thinks that we are shagging like rabbits!"
"And why, foretell you, is that a problem?"
"Because we are not shagging! We are not even dating…" Her eyes found the floor. "…yet…" she mumbled. Looking back at him, she snapped, "We haven't even shared our first kiss!"
"Well then," he said smoothly as he moved into a sitting position. "What do you suppose we do?"
"We? Are you kidding me? You are the one who started the rumors! They are all lies! Harry thinks you have me swinging from the chandelier every night!"
"That is a problem. I specifically told Potter that I had you tied up and bent over my desk. It was Tonks I told about the chandelier," he sneered.
Are We Still On For Friday? by Corazon
6. “Hermione, those should have been cut on the diagonal and you only needed four!” he bellowed at her as he came to her side.
She looked at him in shock, and then down at the cauldron, only to watch it explode in her face. Both she and Severus tumbled back onto the floor and lay there unconscious for several minutes.
Slowly Hermione rose from the ground and rubbed her head. Something felt weird. Her hair seemed a bit too straight. She glanced over at Severus and her jaw dropped. Instead of Severus, she saw herself sit up and rub her eyes. The witch’s hands wiped goo from her face. Hermione looked down at her own hands and saw masculine ones meeting her gaze. She looked down at her body and recognized the black robes of her Potions professor.
“Oh, crap,” she said in Severus’ voice.
“Oh, crap,” she said again.
By this time, Severus was staring at her, realization dawning on him.
“Hermione?” he asked in shock.
“That would be me,” she said in his deep voice. “What happened?”
Severus looked at her angrily. It wasn’t quite as effective coming from her face though.
Freaky Friday by debjunk
7. “Can you grow my hair back?” she asks him one day. Her hand rubs her scalp, the short, baby-thin hair tickling her palm.
He looks up, his eyes locking with hers. They narrow as he takes in her face.
“No.” His answer is curt, and she wonders what she did to offend him.
“But you have a wand. It can’t be that difficult,” she says like a petulant child. She’s sick of feeling ugly. “I’m not powerful enough to do it on my own.”
He gets up from the table, looming over her. His face is close, and his large, beak-like nose almost touches her own. It scares her to see him like this. A single tear slips down her cheek even as she wills herself not to cry.
“I said no.” His breath is so hot on her face that she feels as though her skin is burning.
Beauty may only be skin deep, but it doesn’t make her want it any less.
Raindrops on Thursday by darkheartwalsh
8. She leaned over the cauldron and breathed in, her nostrils quivering, trying to see if she needed to start shredding plants again. No, it seemed to be all right. Good thing too. She was nervous enough today.
The hibiscus decoction was almost ready too. It required the upper solution to be decanted, concentrated through boiling and then decanted again. Decanting was a delicate operation and she breathed hard while performing it, biting lightly into her inner cheek.
Forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven through fifty. She poured the last possible drop from the second cauldron and noted with satisfaction that not a shred of twisted leaf polluted it. It was easy now. All she had to do now was wait.
Professor Hermione Granger, youngest ever Potions Mistress of Hogwarts watched the flame under her second-best brass cauldron, and swore as it flickered. Re-lit it with a muttered spell and settled back to watch with greater care.
She didn't invoke any of Merlin's parts when she cursed, simply because she never had; a fact that always afforded him great amusement. Besides, her true hopes rested in Nimue, who surpassed her master and locked him in a tree that only she could open.
When he woke up she would tell him this and watch his smile. When he woke up, not if.
Sixty Mondays by Spyke Raven
9. Severus opened his eyes, slowly waking from a dream. Hazily he wondered at the time; the candles usually illuminated in the mornings to let him know breakfast would soon be served in the Great Hall, and it was still dark. With an unspoken command, he lit the candles on his bedside table and ascertained that it was after seven -- which meant it was Wednesday.
Dear Merlin, how he loved his Wednesdays.
On Wednesday his first class was after lunch and the two hours before lunch were his so-called 'office hours.' His own loose interpretation of this silly idea of Dumbledore's was, 'only have to be available if a student has made a specific appointment to see me' - which meant that he was free to spend his Wednesday mornings in bed with his bride, because who would voluntarily descend to the dungeons and subject themselves to the singular misery of extra time with the Potions master?
Rolling to his side, Severus feasted his eyes upon Hermione.
A Hallowe'en Tail by subvers
10. On Tuesday he still had no clue as to where she was, but he knew where she had been the day before. He thought about procuring a Time-Turner and going to her. In the end he decided against it. When she tired of the chase she would allow him to find her. He had seen her once. It was just a glimpse of her hair, but he knew it was her. She was in a bookstore standing on a ladder reaching for a large tome on the topmost shelf and then when he blinked, she was gone. That glimpse had been enough for him to begin his hunt. He knew some how that she had meant for him to see her. When she left, he knew it would not be forever. She had told him once, as they were working on their potions in the final days before Harry had died killing Voldemort, that if she were to leave, she would return but only if she knew someone would be waiting for her. He always thought she had meant Potter or Weasley, now he knew she had meant him. So he hunted making sure she knew he was looking and waiting for her to tire of her games.
Saturdays by sapphiretragedy