Once Upon A Time Chapter 3: Flowers, Chocolates, Promises You Don't Intend to Keep

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Flowers, Chocolates, Promises You Don't Intend to Keep

Chapter 3 of 3

HBAR

Once upon a time, there was a lonely prince and princess who needed to be rescued from themselves. If only there were such a thing as magic ...

Drama Romance Potions Under Duress 15,639 Words 3 Chapters WIP

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"Good morning, sleepyhead," Victoria said and pulled open the curtains to let the mid-day sun shine in.

Severus groaned and turned his head away from the windows.

"Sit up; your lunch is ready."

"Lunch?"

"Well, you've missed breakfast by a long shot."

She helped him sit and propped pillows behind him to hold his posture. "You must have had quite a late night. These days I thought that didn't happen until at least the third date."

"I have no idea how you can hold to such rules when your boyfriend spent the night before you were actually dating."

"Do I sense a bit of jealousy?" she teased. "You know, if you keep refusing your vitamins and ignoring your physical therapy, your equipment will never work properly."

He glared at her, but she set about smoothing out his blankets as if this were the most normal conversation a woman and her grandson could have.

"I have made it perfectly clear to Azalea, and I will do the same for you: There is nothing romantic about our relationship. Even if there was, she has this ideal for the perfect man, and I don't make the cut."

"I was talking about sex, not romance. But now that you mention it, I think you two could be good for each other."

"Gram, you do not even know her. Hell, I do not know her. You cannot make an assumption based on a handful of letters regarding an academic endeavor."

"A handful of letters that you have saved in the drawer by your bed," she said.

"Well, it is not as if I make fifty trips a day to the rubbish bin, now is it?"

"All right," she said, wearing the obnoxious smile that Severus was beginning to hate. After placing a cooling charm on his soup, she excused herself and walked out the door.

*~*~*

Hi.

Good evening.

Did you get the letter I sent? I know that initially, I only had a few things for us to explore, but now the questions and possibilities are coming to me fast and furious. I started to just make a list in my head so I could detail them for you here tonight, but once I got started, I realized that I wanted to put things in several categories. So, you'll find that the chart contains things that I think are imperative to fix prior to unveiling the product and things that would be on my wish list, maybe for a future version. I also arranged things into lists based on ones that I have an idea how to fix and ones that I am going to need some input from you about. Then...

Stop.

What?

Bart dropped by to deliver your novel a few hours ago, so you do not need to rehash its contents. I realize that you do not know me, but I do have enough sense to follow an over-the-top flow chart.

Wait ... who's Bart?

Your owl.

That's not his name.

No, but it is a perfectly acceptable nickname for Bartholomew.

Of course it is. But his name is Archimedes.

She waited for his response, but the page remained blank.

Don't be embarrassed. I think it's adorable that you named my owl. In fact, you get even more points for nicknaming him.

I am not adorable, so please stop your inane rambling. It is not my fault that he responds to a name that does not belong to him.

Okay, I'm sorry that I called you adorable.

Apology accepted.

I'll be more careful to keep my thoughts to myself next time.

Oh, you are so clever. Now on that note, can we get back to the topic at hand? I wish to know how you were able to filter out all of the extra junk that goes on in one's head. I am aware that some of that bleeds through because I still recall some appalling thoughts you had about me yesterday which you surely did not intend for me to hear. Still, there are things going on in my mind that are not making it to the paper.

Well, I based the foundations of drawing what you want to say to the forefront of your mind while blocking out passing commentary on the principles of Legilimency and Occlumency. If you are not familiar, I can give you an overview ...

*~*~*

Hi.

Good Evening.

I appreciate all of your insight into how the mind works. I took the things you told me and cross-referenced them with several sources. Before you get offended, that's just something that I do. Also, I was never formally trained in either skill. Perhaps someday ... Well, I'm getting off topic as I am wont to do.

Perhaps and yes, you are.

What? Oh, right.

I think it is the mark of a good researcher to avoid taking something an unknown person tells you at its face value. Several references ought to be cross-checked. I will not fault you there, at least.

Thank you, I think. Oh, there's something I was thinking about while lying in bed last night after our conversation. What do you think about making this a three-way?

A three-way?

Sure. I mean, that would make it better, right? Except I don't know how that would work. Who would give what to whom, you know?

How would I know?

Well, if you think it's a bad idea ... I just thought we could discuss it.

Wait, are we talking about the Intelli-quill?

Aren't we?

Of course!

So, how would you trade ear pieces and quills between three people?

I will have to think on that one. Tell me, where does the ink come from? Does it run out eventually?

I based it on a Muggle ink pen. Then, I used an extension charm on the ink chamber so that it can hold a really large amount. It would depend on how often you used it, of course, but I estimated that you would only need to change it out about three times per year. Do you think that's reasonable?

Certainly. I was thinking that if you were going to have multiple participants, perhaps it would be easiest to follow a conversation if there were several colors of ink. You could potentially add a name stamp to each quill, but that might get messy when determining who gets what equipment.

Yes, I agree that colored ink is the way to go. Would that be best achieved through a potion or a charm? Or maybe a combination of both?

I will have to think about that, as well. I am leaning toward a potion because I am better with them.

I'm better with charms.

Why is that?

Oh, well, I'm not sure. I had a really good teacher. Maybe that has something to do with it.

But your Potions teacher was lousy?

Oh, no. I mean, he could have been fantastic.

But ...

I don't know how to explain. I suppose his heart wasn't in teaching at the moment.

Sounds like he should have retired.

Maybe he did. I don't honestly know what he's doing now. I haven't returned to school since I finished my studies.

I have been meaning to ask your age. At least I now know you are out of school.

Would you mind terribly if I kept my age to myself?

Suit yourself. But, that answer tells me that you are either extremely young or ridiculously old.

No, it doesn't.

Of course it does. If you were middle aged, you would have no qualms about telling me how old you are.

I won't be goaded into giving you an answer if that's what you are going for.

Not at all.

This would be easier if I could see you. I haven't yet worked out when you are serious and when you are being sarcastic.

Well, the ability to see the subject to whom you are speaking will perhaps come along in a later version.

You're making fun again.

Am I?

You're impossible.

If you say so. It seems the hour has grown late, so I must be going.

All right then; good night.

*~*~*

Hi.

Good Evening.

What shall we tackle tonight?

I rather thought we could forget about the quill for the evening.

Oh ... If you have other plans, you can just say so. It isn't as if I meant to monopolize your time.

Of course not. I am merely tired of discussing the same subject night after night.

That's a relief.

It is?

Yes ... No ... I mean ... I would love to talk about something else. Just, you know, to break up the monotony of it all.

There was a pause while he contemplated what to ask. Getting acquainted conversations were never his forte.

Well, then, are you employed?

Yes.

Stop, please. Your elaboration is out of control.

Hahaha. I'm a princess, remember?

Ah, but you already told me that you are not really a princess. And, technically, that is not a job.

Okay, what about you?

I am between jobs at the moment.

That's the fancy way of saying you're unemployed. What have you done in the past?

At one time I had two jobs. The first one I quit a couple of years ago.

Why is that?

Irreconcilable differences with my coworkers.

Fair enough. And the other?

That one ended about a year ago when the organization I worked for fell apart.

That's too bad.

Actually, it is not.

Care to elaborate?

I think it is best left for another time.

All right, then. I have to get up early tomorrow, and I didn't sleep well last night, so I should turn in.

Did you check for peas?

Cute. I'll talk to you tomorrow.

Good night.

*~*~*

"How is my favorite patient today?" Victoria asked.

"If he stops by, I will be sure to ask him," Severus said.

"Oh, don't go all sour grapes on me, young man. Shouldn't you be doing your exercises?"

"I am skipping them today."

"You skipped them yesterday."

"And you are the therapy police? It is not as if they are doing any good."

"You'll never be able to walk if you don't strengthen your muscles. Your body works fine; it is just suffering disuse. You aren't getting better because you're being lazy about it."

"Damn it, Gram! I am never going to get back what I have lost. And even if I could, there is no reason for me to be up and around!"

"Stop shouting at me," Victoria said, her voice wavering.

"I'm not shouting at you!" Severus turned his head to stare at the wall.

"Okay, I am going to leave here now. If you decide you want to have a productive conversation, then we can talk."

With a violent sweep of her hand, she smoothed down his covers and stormed out the door.

*~*~*

Hi.

Good Evening.

Are we talking business or pleasure tonight?

Whatever you want.

We have made decent strides in our research, so we deserve the night off.

Excellent.

So, you don't believe in fairy tale romance?

No.

Did you ever?

I suppose that since I am shielded by complete anonymity, I can tell you that I used to sit down by the river at dusk and kiss frogs in the hopes that I would find a princess.

I love that! I've never met a boy who did that.

My best friend was a girl, and she planted the idea. I never did it in front of her, of course. What about you?

I had a pet frog that my dad brought home from a fishing trip. His name was Fredric Reginald Ogden G ... I best not give away my surname, or I won't be able to share any more embarrassing stories.

Let me guess: he might have been a prince, but you were too prissy to actually kiss him.

Well, you're right about one thing: I didn't kiss him.

I knew it.

I threw him against the side of our house. No prince, but we did get to add a small decorative tombstone to our garden.

That is brutal.

My mother was a big fan of the Brothers Grimm. How about you? Any proclivities toward murder that I ought to be aware of?

She waited for a minute, hoping he was either inventing a clever story, or took an emergency trip to the loo. Instead, his abrupt statement had her concerned.

I have to be going now. Good night.

No, wait! Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry! Hello?

Hermione lay in bed that night wondering why her comment had disturbed him enough to end the conversation. Did that mean he had killed someone? The thought gave her the chills. She analyzed all of the reasons she could think of to explain why he would have taken the life of another human being, and in her introspection realized that she had likely killed before, as well. Avada Kedavra was not in her repertoire, but perhaps she had hexed someone while on a broom, causing them to fall to their death. Or maybe she'd Stunned someone in the heat of battle, leaving them defenseless and in the path of the giants and centaurs. Did that count?

Later, she dreamt of a nameless, faceless James Bond type who had blood on his hands, but always in a heroic sort of way, acting for the greater good.

*~*~*

Hermione walked into the lunchroom where Camille was wildly waving her arms.

"You don't have to flag me down since we sit at the same table every day," Hermione said, laughing.

"Bad luck, Hermione; you just missed him."

"Who's that?"

"Jared. He was sitting here at this very table."

"Oh, well, maybe next time." Hermione shrugged her shoulders and began to unpack her lunch.

"Hermione! Just last week you said he was handsome."

"I'm sure he still is. What's your point?"

"Maybe he sat here hoping you'd show up for lunch." Camille nudged her with a silly grin on her face. "Anyhow, a bunch of us are going out for drinks after work, and you're coming along."

"Tonight? I can't."

"You have better plans?" Camille asked, looking ridiculously hopeful

Yes. "Not better, just ... I'm working on a project tonight."

"So work on it later."

Hermione shook her head. "I can't. I'm working with a ... mentor."

"So blow him off tonight."

"That would be rude."

"Oh, live a little."

Hermione watched Camille's face transform from insistent co-worker to delighted matchmaker, complete with clapping of hands and squealing.

"You have a crush on him."

"No, I don't."

"Is he sexy?"

Hermione's eyes lit up. "He's really smart."

"So 'no' on the sexy front?"

"A person can be both," Hermione said.

"Oh, sure. Like, he's tan and muscular but wears glasses and reads the newspaper?"

Hermione put her head in her hands. "Remind me why we're friends?"

"You need me to keep you from shriveling up into an old maid."

"Right," Hermione said, laughing. "Thank you for your concern, but I really do need to get some work done tonight."

"Next time, then?"

"Perhaps."

*~*~*

Hi.

Good evening. I wasn't expecting your return after the events of last night.

I will admit that I was a bit bothered by your hasty retreat.

So now you are here to demand an explanation?

No, that's not what friends do.

Are we friends?

I didn't mean to be presumptuous, but I thought we were.

I am afraid that I have minimal knowledge in the realm of what friends do.

Well, for example, they offer to help you with a project even though they are not getting paid up front. When you plan a study date each evening, they always show up and come bearing good advice. Need I go on?

No, although I am sure you could fill the silence for hours.

And, as you've just illustrated, friends are honest. Look, you don't owe me any details, but just to ease my mind, when you, you know, killed someone, was it for pleasure or out of necessity?

The latter.

Just once?

No, there have been several.

Would you do it again?

Only in self defense.

So, I'm not in any danger from you?

That depends on whether you are planning to attack me.

Of course not!

Then you are in none, whatsoever.

That's good enough for me.

You are quick to forgive.

My past isn't entirely rose-colored ...

*~*~*

Hi.

Good evening.

I hope you are well.

Well enough, thank you. I read the proposals you have made on improving the quill, and I think they are all sound.

Wonderful; thank you for looking them over.

There is one thing I would like to point out. We have become so wrapped up in the social aspect of this, and rightfully so since that is the manner in which we are using it, that we have lost sight of its original intent: hospital use.

Oh, I hadn't realized, but now that you say that ... Must you always be right about everything?

I would certainly prefer it if you continue to tell me so.

Since we have not yet finalized the means to add emotion to the conversation, I'll tell you that I've almost strained myself rolling my eyes at you.

I am trying desperately to work up some sympathy for your injury. How do we always get so off topic?

Perhaps we are meant for bigger things than working.

Are there bigger things than working? I am shocked that you would say so.

No, I still put it as my number one priority. Still, I've found other things tend to occupy my mind as of late.

Oh. Well ... my point was that I believe you are ready to unveil your product.

I know, although I must admit that I am terrified of doing this again.

Consider last time a trial run.

Right. And, I have you this time. Oh, how do I give you credit when I don't even know your name?

I do not wish to have my name attached to this.

So much for confidence.

I have every confidence in both you and your quill. What I wish is for you to go out and make a name for yourself.

But we did this together. It wouldn't be right.

Please honor my wishes here. If at some point in time you decide to offer an updated version, perhaps I will be willing to consent.

Okay, but I'm feeling nauseated just thinking about this. Will you come with me?

I cannot accompany you. You need to do this on your own. And I am not going to offer platitudes because I cannot guarantee how you will be received. However, you are going into this with a high quality product to sell that we know will work this time. They will have to love you.

Do you really think so?

Indeed. Go in there and dazzle them as you did with me and you will be fine.

I dazzled you?

You are the only princess with whom I have spent this much time in correspondence.

Oh, so you've been contacted by princesses in the past?

They are a dime a dozen.

Thank you.

For what?

Everything.

You are welcome, princess.

Good night, sweet prince.

Good night.

*~*~*

Hi.

Good Evening.

Everything is set for Thursday morning, so there's no going back now.

I am proud of you for not backing down. I know all too well how frightening it can be to put yourself out there.

It really is. I'm going to be a nervous wreck until then. My best friend says that the Intelli-quill is just an object, so if no one likes it, I shouldn't take it personally.

But you cannot help it because while everyone else sees it as another new product, you view it as an extension of yourself.

It's like you're in my head.

I have done my fair share of research and development, mostly streamlining existing techniques. In fact, I have always dreamed of having a career in that field, but I have had neither the time nor the money necessary to make that a reality.

That's my dream as well. Maybe ... Oh I'm being silly.

Out with it.

Well, perhaps if this is lucrative, instead of dividing the money in half and then parting ways, we could pool some of it and work on something else.

That would be acceptable.

Could we meet, please? You seem apprehensive, but I already know that you're intelligent and kind. Well, when you want to be. The only real unknown is what you look like, and I promise you that is of little import to me.

Then why are you so adamant that we meet?

I want to hear your voice.

My voice?

Yes. I hear you talking in my head each evening, and I don't know if it's accurate. And, sometimes when we discuss certain topics, you get excited about them. Or, at least I think you do because you start writing faster, but I want to see it in your eyes.

I don't know.

Please. Dinner on Friday, that's all I ask. I promise, whatever you are worried about is of no consequence to me. If things go well on Thursday, you can congratulate me, and we'll drink to our success. If things go poorly, I may need you there to console me.

I am no good at consoling women.

Well, it's high time you learned. Anyhow, let's hope that isn't necessary. Please.

If it means that much to you, we can have dinner, but we are going somewhere Muggle.

It's a deal.

*~*~*

Severus was out of bed for the first time since he'd left St. Mungo's, and he wasn't sure why he hadn't tried it sooner. His legs were much too weak for walking, but he had a motorized wheelchair that could take him where he needed to go. A baby gate over the stairs was a little much, he thought, but he appreciated his grandmother's concern just the same.

Victoria walked into the room with scissors and a comb.

"How lovely. The cleanup crew is here," he said.

"And what a job they have in front of them," she said. "I know that according to you this is not a date, but you could do with a haircut to make you more presentable."

"It is not just according to me. It really is not a date. We are considering going into business together." Severus could not contain the smile that was creeping across his face at the idea of prolonging his relationship with Azalea.

"How wonderful. I can't wait to meet this girl. From what little you've told me, she sounds lovely."

"She is different from most women. She is mature and sensible."

"Both good traits for you."

"Except she still occasionally talks about this fairytale nonsense."

"Oh, Severus, every girl dreams of her prince riding up on his noble steed and sweeping her off her feet. Some of us hold onto that longer than others, but it's intrinsic to the female population."

"If you say so."

A few more snips and she held up the mirror for him to see. "It's a minor improvement," he said

"Don't sell yourself short. Here." She held out her hand for the mirror, then picked up his shaving kit.

"I can do that," he said.

"I know, but I want to. This was one of my favorite activities while you were unconscious."

"You should get out more."

"If that isn't the pot calling the kettle black. Oh, I forgot: you have a date tomorrow."

"Gram," he warned.

"You don't scare me. Not while I have a freshly sharpened blade in my hand."

"You would never hurt me."

"No, but I have no qualms about etching something embarrassing onto your cheek."

"You would not."

"You don't know me very well, do you? Just sit still." She began to pull the blade across his jaw. "I can't decide between 'kiss me Azalea' and..."

"Enough!"

"Okay, I'm sorry. It's just good to see the fight back in you."

He closed his eyes and allowed the constant scraping of the blade and the steady hand of his grandmother soothe away the nerves that had begun to collect in his stomach.

*~*~*

Friday morning started with a dreary rain which reflected Severus' mood. Victoria walked in and found him still in bed.

"I thought that once you'd been up in your chair, you'd be chomping at the bit to get back there each morning. You spent so much time in that bed, I can see the imprint of your arse in the mattress."

She flitted about the room, straightening the curtains and picking up some trash off his bedside table to dispose of. "I pressed your slacks for tonight. I wasn't sure what shirt you wanted to wear, so let me know, and I'll take care of that, as well. I don't know that you're strong enough to Apparate, especially with the added weight of the chair, so I thought I'd drive you. I can drop you off a block away so that she doesn't see, although it seems she would understand why you aren't driving yourself." She finished fussing with the drapes and turned around to face him. "Severus?"

"I am not going," he mumbled.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"I said I am not going."

"Severus, don't chicken out now. You should ju..."

"I know her, Gram." He held up a section of the Daily Prophet where a young girl stood at a podium, speaking and gesturing wildly with her arms.

"Doesn't that make it easier?"

"She was a student, and not one to whom I was particularly nice."

"Let me see." Victoria grabbed her glasses where they hung at her chest and put them on. "Is that Harry Potter's friend? She's lovely." She looked over and shushed him before he could speak. "I'm not saying that she likely has a shelf full of beauty pageant trophies, but she has stunning eyes. And what I wouldn't give for her hair instead of this ramrod straight business the Princes were cursed with. But mostly, she's passionate. You can tell from here how much she cares about what she's saying. You don't find that so often anymore, and let me tell you, that will serve you well in every aspect of your relationship."

"God, does everything have to be about sex with you?"

"I was referring to the spectacular arguments you are bound to have. But, if you want to talk about sex ..."

"It does not matter. I am not going to dinner, and I am no longer going to have any contact with her."

"Severus," she said.

"It is not up for negotiation!"

She placed her hand on his shoulder. "All right, I'll leave you alone. I do hope you will reconsider, though. Call me if you need anything."

Severus was glad to see her and her sad eyes leave his room. He yanked open the drawer on his bedside table and extracted his wand. He had yet to try and use magic, and he made his debut with an Incendio directed at the Daily Prophet.

*~*~*

Hermione sat at the table, sipping on wine and munching bread sticks. She tried to control herself, but eating was a nervous habit, and her basket was nearly empty. She checked her watch. Fifteen minutes late. He had seemed to her to be the punctual type. Of course, she reasoned, how much can one really gather about a person from a few months worth of exchanged letters?

A waiter approached her with an envelope in his hand. "Are you Hermione Granger?"

"Yes."

"This was dropped off at the counter for you."

"Oh? Did you see who delivered it?"

"No. It sort of just appeared while the hostess was away."

"All right, then, thank you."

She noted the prince's handwriting and tore through the envelope.

Hermione,

I find myself unable to join you for dinner tonight. I apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you. Please find enclosed the means to pay for your dinner.

She turned the page over as if it would continue on the back. That's all he has to say? He didn't even sign it. She shoved it back in the envelope and left it with the breadcrumbs on the table.

*~*~*

The incessant pounding on the front door disturbed the Potters from their dinner.

"I'm coming. Hold your horses," Harry said. He opened the front door and immediately had an armful of Hermione.

"Is your wife here?" she sobbed onto his shoulder.

"Yes. Is everything okay?" He looked out the door over her shoulder and saw nothing but the night sky and the park beyond.

"Does it look okay?" she asked.

"Right. Let's get you to the couch, and I'll go fetch Ginny." He guided her over and helped her sit, then released a strand of hair that was stuck to her face and tucked it behind her ear.

Moments later, Ginny emerged from the dining room. "Hermione, what happened?"

"Oh, Gin, it's just awful."

Ginny grabbed a box of tissues and joined her on the couch. "Tell me."

"We were supposed to meet for dinner, and he stood me up."

Ginny gasped. "But I thought things were going so well. He didn't even have the decency to tell you he wouldn't be coming? That doesn't sound like the same person."

"I know," Hermione said, hiccuping. "There's only one explanation. He saw me in the Daily Prophet, and my picture was too hideous. He couldn't bear to be seen with me in public."

"I think you're overreacting. He probably doesn't even read the paper. Chances are this is a coincidence." Ginny waved her wand at the ever growing pile of tissues between them, and they disappeared.

"No, he did send a letter, but it was really curt. And, it was addressed to Hermione."

"Oh, dear." Ginny wrapped her arms around her friend and let her cry herself out. "Why don't you stay here tonight?"

Hermione nodded her agreement.

"Do you need to send an owl to your employer?"

"No, I don't work tomorrow. And anyway, I turned in my notice when St. Mungo's signed an agreement to buy my product."

"Hermione! Why didn't you say so?"

"It was in the paper. I thought everyone knew."

"Ron is at odds with them. Made us swear we wouldn't read it any more. But congratulations! Let me go find Harry, and we can celebrate."

"Thanks, Gin, but I don't feel much like celebrating."

"Okay, I understand. Why don't you go up to the guest room and take a hot bath. I'll get the bed made up so it will be ready when you're done. There's dinner left if you're hungry, but if you just want to go to bed, that's fine too."

"I think I will just go to bed, but would you help me with something tomorrow?"

"Whatever you need."

Hermione nodded her thanks and headed up the stairs.

A/N- This chapter title comes from a scene in Disney's Beauty and the Beast:

Beast: I want to do something for her ... but what?

Cogsworth: Well, there's the usual things: flowers ... chocolates ... promises you don't intend to keep.

As always, a million thanks to Palathene for being the first set of eyes on this story, and to Keppiehed for disposing of my grammatical disasters. I should also thank Teaoli for being a fantastic admin.

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