Alone
Chapter 3 of 18
PlaidPookaA potion accident causes unusual results.
ReviewedDisclaimer: Thay are not mine; I just take them out to play.
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An hour before dinner started in the Great Hall, Hermione found herself lying on her bed alone with her thoughts. Once again, she was thankful for the privileges associated with being a Head Girl. After 6 years of sharing sleeping quarters with the other girls in her class, she finally had a room to herself. Not that she minded the other girls really, they were quite nice most of the time--they just had the bothersome effect of making her feel like she belonged to another species. Neither as intelligent, nor as studious as Hermione, they spent more time discussing things like which Slytherin's arse looked best in quidditch robes than they did completing their class work. Even during the war against Voldemort (she still had trouble saying the fearful name aloud, but now that he was at last dead she could voice it in her thoughts) the other girls spent an insufferable amount of time discussing make-up glamours and hair care potions. Tonight, the peace of her own room was exactly what she needed. She was going to rack her brain and find some way of locating Severus Snape if she had to read every book in the Restricted Section to do it.
She had regained some amount of hope after the meeting with Dumbledore when he took immediate action, rousing an entire team of Aurors to go over the potions class room with a fine tooth comb. Her fledgling hope was once again dashed when--hours later--they admitted to finding nothing to lead them forward in the search. Apparently, the mysterious green light had created such a strong and invasive aura that any magical traces of the professor's ultimate fate were instantly eradicated.
Her flagging hopes were later cut to the quick when Dumbledore quietly asked if she could decipher Neville's botched potion enough to give an idea of exactly what reaction occurred. Her potions work was unsurpassed, but it was still the work of a student--she knew just enough to realize it would require a full fledged Master to find the answers they needed. Of course, the only full Master of Potions in Britain was currently wandering naked and helpless gods-know-where.
She decided it would be better to not focus on the 'naked' part of that thought--it was doing horrid things to her concentration.
Blushing, she forced her mind back on track. There were only three other Potions Masters in the world. That thought finally got her mind off naked-Snape and she basked in the knowledge that the secret desire of her heart was so incredibly brilliant. Only forty years old, quite young when considering wizards, and already one of the four known Potion Masters in the whole of the wizarding world. That kind of achievement, at so young an age, by a man who spent the past seventeen years spying and fighting in two wars was absolutely unheard of. She simply could not understand why Harry and Ron had so little respect for him, even if they could not bring themselves to actually like him. She loved her best friends dearly, but there were times she despaired of finding one decent brain between them.
At the moment she wished her Potions Professor was not so bloody smart. She wished there were a thousand Potion Masters. Maybe then they could track just one of the reclusive bastards down. Wanton lack of social skills seemed to be a required attribute of the species. Dumbledore had heard rumor of a Master somewhere in China. Hermione spent an hour writing a description of the potion and its aftermath on a long scroll before the Headmaster had cast a translation spell and owled the missive away.
Despite an endless stream of words meant to comfort, he did not appear hopeful of the outcome. Ultimately, he looked squarely at the three Gryffindors and told them flatly that--despite the fact they were only four weeks from graduation--if they went haring off on some dangerous "mission" to find Professor Snape, he would expel them all.
For once in her life, Hermione didn't give a shriveled fig about being expelled. She believed her best friends (and partners in crime) would feel the same. She couldn't have been more wrong. As soon as Dumbledore released them, they hurried back to the deserted common room in Gryffindor tower. The rest of the students were continuing their classes after the potion mishap, excepting Neville, who was resting his overwrought nerves in the hospital wing.
As the Fat Lady's portrait clicked shut, Hermione spun to face her friends and demanded, "Alright then, so what are we going to do?"
To her absolute shock, her best friends--indeed her only close friends, other than Neville and Ginny--her brave fellow Gryffindors replied with various forms of "absolutely nothing."
"What do you mean we're going to do nothing?" she snapped. "We always do something!"
"You heard Dumbledore. We do anything and we get expelled!" Ron whined.
"Since when has the thought of getting in trouble ever stopped either one of you from dragging me into any adventure you fancied?" Hermione continued, her voice lowering in anger.
"Well, I suppose the main difference is you're asking us to get expelled 'cause of a greasy git that's been an absolute terror to us for the last seven years!" retorted Ron.
They were in full fledged row mode now. Harry watched from the sidelines, doing his best to stay out of it. Since Hermione and Ron's brief, doomed foray into dating at the start of sixth year, Harry learned it was best to let them have it out before he expressed an opinion. He was beginning to think he knew exactly why Hermione was so determined to help Snape, and he didn't like his conclusions at all.
"Are you trying to tell me--just because you don't like the man--you're willing to let him die out there, helpless and alone?" Hermione shouted.
"Don't like him?" Ron replied, in that annoying voice he used when badly impersonating Hermione, "How about hate him? He's nothing but a snake pretending to be a human being. And who says he's going to die? He's too fucking mean to die! We should be so lucky!"
Hermione finally had enough, striking Ron's cheek with a resounding blow that echoed in the suddenly quiet room. His face blazed redder than his hair as he opened his mouth to speak, but Harry restrained him with a touch to the arm.
Hermione glared hotly at both of them. "He may not be a nice man," she hissed, "but he is a strong, intelligent, and brave one. He has fought on the side of the light for as long as we've been alive. Professor Snape has saved all of our lives on multiple occasions. If there is one thing I know, it is that he deserves to have someone at least try to do the same for him."
Ron never did know when to leave well enough alone. "Come on, Hermione! I know you stopped hating him sometime sixth year, but if you keep talking like that I'm going to start thinking you actually fancy the great git."
"I could do worse," she replied coolly. "He's worth a dozen of you, Ronald Weasley." With that, she spun on her heel and disappeared into her private room, the slammed door's hinges rattling with the force. In the common room, two young men stood with mouths agape, staring after her.
Now sequestered in her room, her Gryffindor soul was fully prepared to leap into action--but she first had to determine a course of action. Thank gods it was Friday and she could forget classes and concentrate her formidable intelligence to the problem at hand. Her mind rustled with the beginnings of an idea. What she needed now was to spend the night in the Restricted Section doing research, filling in the gaps in her fledgling plan. As a seventh year, she now had free access to that section, but was still required to follow curfew. To stay long enough to get what she needed would require borrowing Harry's invisibility cloak. Immediately she realized a problem: she didn't even know if Harry was speaking to her. In an amazing display of the synchronicity in the universe, there came a quiet knock at the door. A pause, then the door opened far enough for a tousled head to poke in. Serious green eyes regarded her intently for a moment.
"May I come in, Hermione?"
"Just you, Harry?"
"Yes, just me. Ron's gone off to the quidditch pitch for some air."
"Come on then," she replied, sitting up and scooting over to give Harry some room beside her. Harry plopped down, but seemed to be looking anywhere but at her. "Harry, just say what you've come to say. I expect you think I was a bit hard on Ron."
"Actually no, though the palm print on his face looked like it might have been permanent until I spelled it off. Ron deserved what he got." Harry looked her straight in the eye for the first time since he entered. "I'll never like Snape; I think he's a right bastard. But I have come to respect him because of what he did in the war. He doesn't deserve this, and he does deserve help--I just don't think we're the best ones to give it. If you want to work on the problem here, fine. I'll help you all I can. Then you should give whatever you find to Dumbledore and let him handle it."
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but closed it with a snap. It was useless to waste her breath. Harry's mind was obviously made up. She couldn't really disagree with what he said, even while knowing that she'd never stay quietly at Hogwarts while her snarky Professor was missing. It was disconcerting to know she was still alone in this, but at least Harry was meeting her half way. "I do have an idea, Harry. I don't need any help with it but I need to do some research tonight. Could I borrow your invisibility cloak?"
"Of course," Harry smiled in relief at her lack of temper, "but will you promise me that if you find anything helpful you'll let the adults handle it?"
"We're eighteen, we're hardly children," Hermione replied, in a futile attempt to ignore the promise.
"You didn't answer my question," he said, smile fading.
Hermione sighed. "I'll consider it, but--damn it, Harry--I can't promise that and I don't think you should ask me to."
"So it's true then, that you're in love with Snape?" On Harry's lips the name sounded like a curse. Hermione gasped, blushing like a Weasley. She tried to say something, anything, but could only stammer.
"Ron mightn't have noticed your hand on Dumbledore's clock, but I did," continued Harry. "It didn't take much to put that together with how you're acting now and come up with the right answer. What I don't understand is--why him?"
Hermione sighed again. How does anyone explain the heart? It's inconceivable. However, her friend of seven years--though obviously upset--refrained from berating her as Ron would have done, and seemed to genuinely try to understand. "I'll do my best to explain Harry. I don't know if I'll succeed, but I'll try. You deserve that much." She paused, gathering her thoughts and courage before plunging in. "The truth is, I don't think there are always reasons why we love who we do. I don't even think we choose who we love. You either love someone or you don't. I can easily tell you things I admire about him--he's the single most intelligent person I know. He's brave. He has an amazing sense of duty and honor. He does what he feels is right even when he knows he'll never get any recognition for it--in fact, I think he actively avoids recognition. I know he's often unfair to students and has a wicked temper, but I stopped being afraid of him second year; I found I respected him fourth year, last year I realized I was attracted to him, and I am not going to try explaining that!"
"I can almost understand simple attraction," Harry broke in, looking embarrassed. "At least, as much as a straight man...anyway, you wouldn't be the only girl rattling on about his 'sexy' voice, how he's mysterious and dark, and all that rubbish. But how can you actually love him? You deserve someone nice."
"Nice?" interrupted Hermione. "Maybe I should forget Severus and marry Neville! We could have a nice relationship, a nice home, nice children, and I could be oh-so-nicely bored out of my pleasant skull for the rest of my nice existence!" Hermione ran a hand through her unruly hair in exasperation. "Harry, has it ever occurred to you that I'm not exactly nice myself?"
"What! Hermione you're the ni..."
"Stop right there. I know you're my friend and I know you love me, but I'm not stupid. I might beat Severus in a popularity contest but we both know I have dreadful social skills and quite the temper. I have a horrible tendency to talk down to others and I can't seem to help it. I can count my friends on one hand and pretty much everyone else treats me like a space alien. I'm not saying I hate myself--I like myself just fine--but I do it with my eyes open. I love Severus with my eyes open as well, warts and all."
"I do wish you would stop calling him by his first name," Harry growled. "It's just so fucking weird."
"Sorry." Hermione laughed. "I've never had much occasion to say it out loud and I guess I'm taking advantage."
"When in the world did you fall in love with the nastiest Professor at Hogwarts?"
"I think it came along gradually. I can tell you the exact moment I realized it. It was during the final battle when you confronted Voldemort. I know you were focused on him, and couldn't see what was happening elsewhere. I'd already been injured and I was lying on the ground but still conscious. I looked up, and standing right behind you was Severus. You were fighting Voldemort, but about a dozen of his Death Eaters had broken away from the main battle and were trying to hex you. Severus stood there, exhausted, hurt, blocking every curse thrown at you until the rest of the Order could break through. I've never seen anyone move so fast. It was the most terrifying and beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life. I couldn't deny my feelings after that."
"I didn't know," Harry said softly.
"It's not like he would ever have told you."
"Too right. All right, Hermione, I may never like this, but I do think I understand it. I may even be persuaded to behave at the wedding," Harry joked.
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. You know the reasons I love him, but what in the world would he want with a 'silly little girl' like me?"
"Damn, Hermione, I hadn't though of that. You're bloody doomed!"
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Latest 25 Reviews for Naked Journey
155 Reviews | 5.72/10 Average
I can confidently say that this is one of my absolute favorite SS/HG stories. Keep up the great work.
I was laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes when I read this:
“What elegant appellation could possibly do justice to your graceful form, your evanescent eyes, your incessant snickering? I fear it’s a Herculean task. Yet--wait! Perhaps it isn’t hopeless. I shall name you…Bob,” he finished with a smirk, arching his brow as if daring the unicorn to argue.
I didn't have this checked off as read, but I have read it apparently elsewhere. However it was no chore reading it a second time.
Thanks for sharing such a sweet story.
Explosive from the start and hurtled down into hillarity , angst and much speculating. The thought of a naked Severus lost was just too funny not to read. Liked it a lot and wanted to tell you this.
Very witty comments and double meanings from both main characters. The dawning realisation from both that the fates mean them to be together even if fate played nasty at times.
Bob and the Black Unicorn stole the show for me. As for Dumbledore not able to interfere - all the better and to stay back and clock watch - now that was really funny.
Well done. Blows kiss for writing and making an awful day for me yesterday turn into something much better after reading your story. Thanks.
A wonderful tale.
I can just imagine waking up to being nommed on by a unicorn- it makes me laugh. *chomp chomp chin*
Dear PlaidPooka.
Beautiful. Charming. Funny. Hot. Touching. What else can be said?
Is that really all there is> You are incredible and I loved it very Much!
That was a very delightful if fanciful story. Severus was extremely AU but still wonderful. I would never have thought of him as a unicorn, that was brill.
I've read more than 700 SS/HG stories in the past 5 years, but really, this is one of my favourites. Good story, well written and yes Bob...brings tears to my eyes, not only because my father was called Bob.
I *heart* Bob!
Damn, one more twist before we got off. This is a lovely story.
Um, eating a wand. :) it worked!I'm so glad. No more rollercoasters in this one, right?
LOL! a draw! I love it. What did Harry say? Yay for finished stories!
Now, i'm crying because everyone is stuck.
Ouch, this whole chapter made me wince in sympathy.
I love your choices for Arithmancy Masters! Heinlein is one of my favorites.
Now, I'm sad and happy, but mostly sad for Bob.
wow. that's a lot of travel.
I wonder if Dumbledore was trying to goad them into finding Severus. That would be Dumbledore sneaky and just like the trio to break the rules.
First(ish) part: I love the Snape compass!Next: Oh to be Bob, kind of.
Second part: not good to be in danger and have no defenses, but yay for Good Old Bob. I hate redcaps.
First part: maybe snape spit is unicorn ambrosia, since snape is unicorn catnip, snicker.
Why wouldn't he want her?