Lord Snape\'s Dilemma

Chapter 11 – Unfinished Business

It all belongs to Rowling, except what you don’t recognize.

From Chapter 10:

To his right, Snape vaguely noted the sound of a coach. He didn’t bother turning to it but kept his eyes fixed on Malfoy. Malfoy casually lifted his pistol and fired. Something that felt like a mule kicked Snape in the chest and then there was a searing white-hot pain. He fell to the ground, darkness descended and he knew no more.

&&&


Harry saw the shot land dead centre of Snape’s chest and he leapt from the coach before Filch had fully stopped it. However, he didn’t go directly to Snape, instead he ran to Lupin and grabbed the two epees that Lupin was carrying.

He threw one epee to Malfoy. “En Garde!”

“What is this? Lupin, I ask you is this some sort of joke? That’s Snape’s valet, he’s not allowed to second. It’s against the code.”
’m n’m not seconding Snape. I’m challenging you and that’s your misfortune, Malfoy. The name is Evans, Harry Evans. Does it ring a bell? I’m more than your equal. I am the Marquis of Gryffindor and I am calling you out to avenge my parents who you murdered in cold blood.

“Surely you remember me a little? I bit your hand.”

“The Evans brat? You?” stated Malfoy with great disbelief.

Hermione had also jumped from the carriage and ran to her husband, carrying a basket of medical supplies under her arm. Quickly she took a large pair of shears to cut the fabric away from the bleeding area. She was soon joined by Lady McGonagall, who called out, “There’s been a miracle-- he’s only winged.”

“Impossible, Lady McGonagall,” snarled Malfoy, “I hit him dead on. I saw it with my own eyes. He’s as dead as yesterday’s fish.”

Hermione didn’t look up but quietly asked the noblewoman, “You know that blackguard? Who don’t you know in London?”

Hermione poured a homemade tincture of witch-hazel bark and other herbs over his wound and Snape screamed.

“Doesn’t sound very dead to me,” hooted Lupin.

“I repeat. En garde!” said Harry, becoming quite annoyed with the delay.

“Oh sod off,” hissed Malfoy. “Lady McGonagall, are you listening to this tripe?”

“Kill him Harry,” said Lady McGonagall in a clear, cold voice. “Sir Lucius, I remember James telling me that he was going to the Crown about your connection to Lord Voldemort. That’s why you killed them, isn’t it? He’d discovered your secrets. But Ginny has your diary and papers from Voldemort. If Harry doesn’t run you through, you can count on a date with the hangman. And I’ll be in the front row cheering him on!”

A chill ran down Harry’s back. He hadn’t expected his Grandaunt to be quite so bloodthirsty.

Hermione poured a few drops of brandy into Snape’s mouth. Choking and sputtering, he quickly came round with a groan. “Are you trying to drown me, woman?” he gasped.

Hermione smiled, “Oh just you wait, I’ve writ my Mama and you’ll be drowning in sauerkraut juice by tomorrow morn.” She kissed him on the forehead.

“Oh why, why didn’t Malfoy just kill me and have done,” Snape sighed.

Hermione kissed him again, this time on the lips, “That’s why you silly man. Now stay quiet-- you still have a very deep wound and it’s bleeding quite a lot. I have to keep pressure on it until I can get you home and sewn up.”

She called to Filch, who only gulped from his canteen and rollis eis eyes fearfully while shaking his head.

Snape spotted Harry. “Oh, no. Do my eyes deceive me? What’s Harry doing there?”

Hermione replied, “Stay quiet, they are dueling. No stop, please. Don’t try to get up or you’ll faint. Hush, it’s all right. Harry’s right to be challenging him.” Hermione tried to keep her husband on the ground.

“You are insane.” Snape fell back into his wife’s arms.

“He’s the Marquis of Gryffindor-- Lady McGonagall’s Grandnephew. The challenge is his right.”

“Well!” yelled Harry in frustration. “I’m waiting.” Harry swished his sword through the air in impatience.

Malfoy took a deep breath and released it. Taking out a lace handkerchief he wiped his face and said, “Aye, I’ll fence with you, rogue!”

“We shall see who is the rogue. Rake, Murderer, Liar, have I left out anything?”

“Blackmailer,” called out Lupin. Snape, with some pleasure in spite of the pain, noted that Hermione cringed.

“And a Traitor to the crown,” trumpeted Lady McGonagall.

Harry smiled and nodded, “Thank you dear Auntie and Sir Lupin—” He saluted Malfoy with his epee, “Blackmailer and Traitor to the crown.”

Remus chuckled and chimed in “With witnesses among his peers at Whites no less.”

“My, my, we’ve been busy,” said Macnair. “Forgive me if I don’t second you on this one.” He walked over to his horse and left without a glance back.

“He’s without a second,” whispered Weasley to Lupin. Lupin shrugged.

Malfoy’s eyes flashed as he got down to business. He lunged at Harry but Harry parried his blade and circled round it in a double, thrusting his blade past Malfoy’s guard to hit his arm.

“First blood!” announced Lupin cheerfully.

Malfoy cursed at the blood seeping through the fine cambric of his shirt.

Harry had hardly broken a sweat. The twored red off again. Harry feigned and Malfoy parried and thrust. Again Harry feigned, yet this time Malfoy went on the offensive, quickly parrying and thrusting again, forcing Harry back several steps.

Harry smiled. He enjoyed a good fight. His green eyes gleamed and he made an attack au fer against Malfoy, wherein he beat his opponent’s blade out of his way with a quick flip of his wrist. And with a lightening fast movement, Harry flicked a button off from the front of Malfoy’s shirt.

Malfoy became enraged. “Have a care! That was a new shirt just from my tailors.”

Harry laughed, “You can send me the bill—from Hell.” And in a fleche attack he leapt at Malfoy, glancing his opponent’s side and going past him.

There was a gasp from Malfoy and his hand grabbed at the wound on his ribcage.

“Second blood,” whooped Lupin. “Malfoy? Evans?”

“You know where I stand on this,” said Harry. “It’s to the death.”

“No! Harry,” Snape, pale and trembling from loss of blood, was finally standing with the help of Hermione and Lady Magalagall. “I did not raise you to be a killer. Think, you muttonhead! You are still a commoner in the eyes of the law. It’s going to take time for the courts to re-instate your title. Kill Malfoy and you may wind up swinging from the noose yourself.”

Hermione glanced at her husband, her eyes filled with admiration, “Remember Harry, we have more than enough evidence to prove Malfoy’s guilt. You don’t need to do this.”

A look of disappointment crossed Harry’s face as he slowly turned away from Malfoy and began to walk over to Snape.

“Behind you!” yelled Lupin.

“Look out!” cried Squire Weasley.

Harry turned just in time to parry and riposte Malfoy’s epee. Harry’s blade moved cleanly through Malfoy’s shoulder, emerging from the other side. Malfoy screamed and crumbled in agony as crimson stained his shirt.

Harry casually dropped the imbedded sword and walked to Lord Snape.

“I can’t leave you alone for a second without you getting into some sort of scrape,” said Harry shaking his head and taking over from Lady McGonagall the carrying of Snape to the carriage.

Snape snorted, “And what about you? If he dies, you just might find yourself in quite a legal morass-- even if he did act without honour by attacking you with your back turned. And with all due respect for her Ladyship, the courts don’t stand on their heads just because Lady McGonagall said so.”

“Oh they don’t, do they?” said the Lady McGonagall with an arched eyebrow. “You shall see how quickly my Grandnephew is re-instated. I have quite a few more tricks up my sleeve than you ever imagined, my dear Lord Snape.”

“Oh will you three stop it? How can you jabber on like this while my Severus needs help?” Hermione was becoming rather worried about the depth of the wound. “Come, we must take him home before infection can set in. I can’t believe the way….” Hermione’s scolding continued as they entered the carriage. Filch clicked his tongue and the horses started up.

Lupin and Weasley looked at each other. Then they looked at the rapidly expiring villain on the ground.

“What do you think, Squire?” asked Lupin mildly.

“Well, if we removed the sword, he may well bleed to death before we can get him help. However, it does seem rather tragic to have to break the blade of such a fine weapon. I’ll stay herd yod you fetch a doctor. We’ll go by whatever he says.”

Lupin clapped him on his shoulder, “Excellent idea. There’s actually a doctor not too far from here who has gotten quite disgustingly rich off of these sorts of events here in the park. I shall be right back. And then a spot of breakfast, perhaps?”

“Capital, old fellow, capital. But at my hotel I think, it wouldn’t be right to wake your pretty wife a second time.”

&&&

“Filch, can you manage to go a bit slower? We’re having problems back here!” Harry looked grimly at Lord Snape. Though he was keeping the padding on the wound, the blood kept coming. Snape’s face was alarming pale. “Lady Snape, can’t we do anything more?”

Hermione shook her head. It was a miracle that the deep gouge hadn’t hit any major blood vessels or shattered a bone. Unfortunately, with the carriage’s bouncing the wound kept reopening and more blood poured forth. It would need quite a few stitches and she couldn’t have done that at the park without major risk of infection.

“What I’d like to know is why isn’t he dead. We all saw it happen with our own eyes,” stated Lady McGonagall.

Snape felt too nauseous from the pain to speak, so with trembling hand he lifted a damaged book from his breast pocket and handed it to Lady McGonagall. It was a slim, deluxe edition of the “Ode to Britannia.” And though it was a slim book, the reinforced leather binding seemed to have done a good job of deflecting the bullet.

Hermione watched as McGonagall opened the book. “So, you were saved by your love of poetry. How truly Byronic! Hmm. Portia Stone? Yes, there’s been a bit written about her.”

Hermione stared in shock. “May I see that? Why that’s not my book-- I didn’t give permission for another….” Hermione coughed. “I mean to say, that’s not the edition that I own. When did they do another printing?”

Snape shook his head. He was fighting the dizziness, but knew he couldn’t stay awake much longer.
ry try took the book from Hermione. “Why Lord Snape bought this at Christmas time, just before he left for Dymchurch. It’s quite fancily made, and just look how well it took the impact; you can see how the top cover and most of the pages have been sliced through by the bullet and yet it was just enough to redirect the shot from his chest to his arm.” Harry glanced at his lordship’s grey face and yelled up to the coach “Al “All right, Filch, do go faster, I think we’re losing him.”

Snape pulled himself together, wanting to speak and fearful that it might be his last opportunity to do so. In a voice harsh with pain he said, “Harry, I don’t know… why you are not at Oxford, but it is my desire… that you go there as soon as reason permits. Hermione… and Lady McGonagall, please make sure this young buck follows my wishes. And Hermione… I, I—“ and Snape passed out. Hermione held herself, refusing to cry.

Lady McGonagall snorted. “OXFORD! He will do nothing of the sort. The Evans are all Cambridge men!”

Harry groaned. He knew that his fate had been sealed.

&&&

Hermione watched as Snape came to. She’d been sitting on the chair by his bed for hours. Mercifully, he’d stayed unconscious for her stitching the wound in his arm. And since she didn’t have to worry about his pain, she was able to take the time to make small, tight stitches.

She’d checked the wound several times during the five hours that he’d slept, and she found no sign of sepsis. They had done a good job on the bandages and with keeping things clean, including the needle and thread.

“Hermione?” Snape gasped. She immediate leaned over and gave him some water to drink.

“Lord Snape, whatever possessed you—“

“Please, I don’t feel up to—

“As if I cared.” She folded her arms and glared at him. “IF you will go jaunting off, having a good time spying and duelling whenever you please, I don’t know what’s to become of this household, much less our relationship as a couple.”

Snape closed his eyes. Relationship. Couple. Perhaps all was not lost after all, he thought. Eyes still closed, he asked hesitantly, “What would you like for me to do?”

Hermione smiled. It seemed the wound had done wonders for his willingness to cooperate. “Well, not that I wish to chain you to home. I quite understand that you are a man; however, I must insist, no more duels and no more intrigue. And, and…” She started to choke up with her unspent emotions.

Snape opened his eyes, “My love?”

“You don’t trust me,” she sniffed. “You have never trusted me.” Tears began to flow. “And that has been the worst hurt. What have I ever done to merit such suspicion?” she hiccupped.

“You do not know?” Snape was starting to feel confident that perhaps they could indeed work out their differences. This was his old sweermiermione again, and not the raging harridan of last night. He reached out his good hand to her, which she took and kissed. “You really do not know?” He said with a tone of reproach. Hermione shook her head innocently. “Well, then, let me tell you.” Snape smiled his smile of triumph, the one that made him look like a shark passing gas.

“When I asked about your writing, you said you only had friends that you wrote to.” Hermione looked down at her hands and Snape held her hand just a bit tighter. “However, it seems that your friends are a rather strange lot, beginning with Messieurs Lamb and Moody. Furthermore, you do not simply write letters, do you now, Portia?”

Hermione swallowed and blushed. Snape felt his heart sing.

“Then there is the no small matter of blackmail.” Hermione started. Snape felt this was definitely worth the damaged received to his arm. “I don’t know how you think you are going to explain that.”

Hermione sat very quietly and in a small, meek voice stated, “Perhaps there is no explanation, except to say that I am young and capable of occasional misjudgement. I was not certain of how you would entertain the idea of a wife who is not only a bluestocking but a published writer as well. I have kept my identity as Portia Stone a secret from all, including my parents. It is hard enough to be accepted as a woman writer, but I wrote those poems when I was only sixteen. I feared that if people knew my age, I would not be taken seriously. In addition, my ruse has allowed me to harvest honest feedback. I now know that the only poem I have written that is any good and of worth is the ‘Ode to Britannia’. The entire world quite despises my other poems. So I thought to try my han oth other forms of writing.”

“Like your novel?” Snape smirked. It was not much of an improvement over the smile, but Hermione loved the way it revealed his wayward charm. ermiermione stared at Snape, “You knew?”

“Before I even married you. You see, I do accept and support your writing. You do not need to hide it from me. I am sorry that you have given up on your novel.” He squeezed her hand.

“How?” And the it dawn on her, “That blasted Lavender! She found it.”

“Language Hermione,” Snape said sternly.

“Lud!”

“That’s better. And now for the little matter of the blackmail?” asked Snape smoothly. In spite of his arm throbbing, he was truly having a very good time.
was was going to ask Remus about it the first chance I got, but we were all so busy with the marriage arrangements.”

“Remus! How does Remus come into this?”

“Oh, then you don’t know. Sir Lucius came to me and said my cousin was deeply in debt and would be ruined if I did not give him what he wanted.”

“What he wanted?” Snape’s happy mood was broken. And he’d left her alone all those times. But his servants would have protected her, right?

Hermione, seeing Snape’s change of humour, continued quickly, “He wanted information on you. When you were here and when you were gone. Ginny was the go-between, I never saw Malfoy between that first time and today.”

Snape visibly relaxed. “And why not tell me? I would have helped; in fact I did lend him money.”

“I know that now. But at the time I was ashamed. I didn’t know how he’d come to be in debt. I thought that maybe his was was a spendthrift—I didn’t realize that between the Luddites closing his factories and the war effort, he’s stretched himself too thin.” Hermione sighed. It did feel better coming clean with her husband. She’d hope that now, maybe there could be the comfort of normalcy between them.

She looked at Snape.

Snape looked at Hermione.

There was an awkward silence as they both wondered what would come next.

“You know,” they both said in unison. Hermione smiled shyly. Snape snorted.

Again the silence took rein. Finally Snape asked, “And while I was sleeping, what did I miss? Has Ginny left? Is Harry on his way to Oxford?”

Hermione blushed prettily. “It’s all been worked out. Lady McGonagall wishes Harry to attend the Season by her side and then, in the autumn he will be attending Cambridge.”

“Cambridge! But—“

“I am truly sorry. I know you haven’t heard the full story, but it seems that Lady McGonagall is Harry’s legal guardian and will be until he turns 25 and comes into his fortune. Until then, he must dance her tune. But since you so kindly invited Lady McGonagall to stay with use wae was quite certain that the invitation would be extended to her Grandnephew, Harry the Marquis of Gryffindor.”

“Hermione, touch my head, I think I’m delirious.” Snape snuggled back into the numerous cushions, which Hermione and Harry had placed behind him to keep his shoulder elevated. Hermione felt his head and then kissed him.
, th, thank heavens, still no fever. You are very fortunate. Perhaps you wish to rest?” Hermione made to get u
“O
“Oh, I couldn’t.” He held her hand a bit tighter. “You haven’t told me about the reunion between Ginny and her family.”

“Ah, well, there was no reunion. Squire Weasley sent his regards and regrets, but since Ginny has been to the theatre, she really isn’t welcomed back. However, he was very grateful that we had taken her on as our charge.”

“We what!”

“Now, darling, you mustn’t get all wound up.”

“Well, I can see now we are doomed to have a very lively season indeed. And with Harry in love with Ginny—“ Snape shook his head.

“But Ginny is not in love with Harry. Oh she likes him, but after Sir Lucius she truly doesn’t wish to enter into another relationship with a nobleman, at least for some time. She is looking forward to, oh dear, I forgot to mention it!” Hermione looked abashed.

Snape groaned, it didn’t d god good, “Are we ever going to be out of the woods, my love?”

“Well, I don’t know. If we could trust each other, I mean, lutelutely know that the other person is at all times honest and above board.”

Snape smiled, “I’d like that. Could w it? it?”

“Of course. So what I forgot to say was that the play reading is Thursday next and Ginny will be reading the part of the ingénue.”

“What play?”

“Ah,. D. Do you remember the novel that I threw in the bin?” Hermifounfound a very interesting thread dangling from her sleeve.

“Yes, I particularly liked the main male character. A rather dashing fellow,” Snape said with fond remembrance and no little vanity.

“Well, on the advice of Miss Joanna Bailley, the playwright, I converted the story into a melodrama. The reading of “The Dark Stranger or Lady Ezmerelda’s Peril” is being held at Sadler’s Wells.”

“How exciting. And I suppose you wish to be there?” said Snape keeping his fneutneutral.

Hermione’s eye’s lit up, but she schooled herself to not seem too excited, “Only if it pleases your Lordship,” said Herm.
.

Snape chuckled. He really enjoyed seeing Hermione all excited. And to think he had it in his power to grant her such pleasure. “Well, while the place does not have a very savoury reputation, I have been there once or twice and I feel that if Lady McGonagall gives her approval, we might all go.”

Hermione leapt up and threw her arms around her husband’s neck. “Oh, thank you, thank you!” She kissed him quite roundly.

Snape felt content, but still he wondered, how could they ever keep this current state of bliss?

Hermione observed that something was still bothering her husband. “I think I know what is wrong,” stated Hermione gently. “Do you trust me?”

Snape felt rather astounded by the question, ‘Do I trust you?’ Why do women always ask trick questions, he asked himself. After some thought, in honour of their mutual attempt to keep peace and bliss in their household, he dissembled with a brave smile, “Yes.”

“Good.” Hermione began to disrobe.

“Ah, what are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m taking off my clothes.”

“Hermione, it’s broad daylight.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Someone may come in.”

Hermione went and locked the door, “I already warned everyone here that I would introduce the Royal Navy’s practif flf flogging to this household should anyone attempt to contact us this afternoon.”

Hermione was quickly down to her chemise. Snape shut his eyes, “This isn’t proper you know. You being, well, you know in the middle of the day, in fact at any time other than bathing.”

“But I think we need to start anew. We have been joined in God’s eyes, but what about our own? We need to understand and accept one another as we are. Naked, without pretence, as God sees us. You may open your eyes, now.”

Snape opened one eye and then oth other. At first he wasn’t sure where to look, but his eyes kept travelling back to her, drawn by her irresistible beauty. Her alabaster skin, pale and translucent, reminded him of a statue of Venus he has once see at a gallery. And indeed it seemed as if a goddess had come alive in his very own room.

She was so lovely, that it seemed a crime that this should be the first time that he had ever beheld the naked female form other than in art. All his couplings had consisted of quick economic transactions, involving the lifting of skirts, unbuttoning of breaches and the abrupt taking of sex from a ladybird bent over against a wall in a dark alley. Snape’s musings were interrupted by his throbbing need to touch his wife. Fortunately his undergarment spared him the embarrassment of a tented bed sheet.

“Well?” asked Hermione. “Now it’s your turn. I wish to see you naked.”

“Oh no, Hermione. Well, I mean, you must have see alr already back when I was ill?”

“As you were not my husband, I kept my eyes closed. I never peeked. But you are mine now and I wish to observed you in all your glory.”

Snape’s glory jerked as if it had heard her. Hermione came to him and pulled back the sheet. She unbuttoned his under breeches and slipped her fingers under the waist. Slowly she pulled them down, over his stomach. He lifted his hips to allow the complete removal of the cotton garments. Hermione sat on the bed next to him. She looked at him and she realized that vegetable marrows would have been much more appropriate than cucumbers.

“I feel incredibly stupid like this,” said Snape blushing furiously.

“But you are beautiful.”

“No, I’m not, men are ugly, hideous things and I’m probably the worst of them all.”

“I love you and you are my Adonis. May I touch you?”

It jumped up and waggled happily like a puppy. Snape groaned half from lust and half from the independent behaviour of his, his…. “If you must.”

Gingerly, Hermione reached out her hand to touch him. “Ah, you are as smooth as silk, but so hot and hard.”

“Hermione, would you put your hand around it?” Snape found himself having a difficult time breathing.

“Yes, I’d like to. How is this?” She placed her hand loosely around him with her thumb to the centre of the shaft.

“You can hold it a bit harder. It’s quite sturdy.” Snape swallowed, he couldn’t believe he was having this conversation, but part of it was so good, so very good. “Oh my…” he murmured as she did indeed take a firmer grip. “Dearest Hermione, I don’t know what to do, you’ve excited me so and, well, with my arm the way it is, I can’t, well…”

“Make love to me?”

Snape nodded.

“This is where trust really is needed.” She straddled his thighs, “Will you allow me the lead in this?”

Snape felt that his heart was about to stop. “Yes, Hermione, but please do something. Soon?” He closed his eyes and felt the most incredible sensation of her taking him in her and then her lowering herself onto him.

“How does this feel?” she asked timidly.

“Wonderful, but could you perhaps move back and forth a little? I think that might feel even better. But only if you wish, of course.” He gave a weak smile.

“Yes, is this good?” she asked as Snape felt himself being milked by a velvety glove.

“How? Oh, yes, incredible,” he was rapidly losing all ability to think or speak. “Hermione don’t stop, oh Heavens… above.” His body arched up and he felt himself floating up on a cloud of ecstasy. “My Precious, my Angel,” he called out as his orgasm shook his frame. He felt it go on much longer than he’d ever experienced before. From some deliciously insensible place, he felt Hermione lean close to him and kiss him lovingly on the mouth.

Joyfully, Hermione had watched her husband climax. It was so simple a thing and yet so marvellous. She waited a little while and then said, “My turn.” And slowly began moving herself on him.

Snape opened his eyes to gaze at his wife with amazement. She wanted to continue? But he was done. Wisely, he said nothing but watched as she continued her gentle rocking and internal stroking on top of him. After a few minutes, he hesitatively reached out and touched one of her breasts.

“May I, my dear?” he asked.

“Hmm. Oh, yes. Oh even harder.” With this encouragement, he rubbed his thumb over the very erect pink nipple in his hand. He was thrilled to see that his touch seemed to excite her even more. Oh, this was so much better than he had ever expected. He found himself staying quite stiff for her pleasure.

Suddenly she let out a high-pitched, yet quiet moan, which repeated itself over and over going into a crescendo of moans. “Oh, Severus, oh, yes,” she cried softly and then collapsed over him clinging to the bedpost as to not re-injure his shoulder.

Snape felt tears come to his eyes as he admired the brown ringlets of hair cascading down her shoulders and onto him and the pink rose budded breasts placed tantalizingly close to his mouth. Such an amazing woman, he thought. He would never have suspected her, or any female for that matter, to be capable of ‘le petit mort’. Not knowing that such things were possible, he’d always thought sexual pleasure to be limited to men. He caressed her arms and she sighed, “Oh, that was very good.”

“Yes, it was,” said Snape, still in shock from what he’d just learned and experienced about married love.

Taking his face in her hands she purred, “Thank you my husband, for trusting me.”

“And thank you, dear Hermione, for showing me the rewards of such trust.”

She stayed near his side until he fell asleep with a small smile on his lips. She loved him so much, and though life would always have its challenges, it seemed they had finally overcome a major obstacle to their happiness. Lord Snape had resolved his dilemma.

The End


Many special thanks to all my reviewers throughout this story and especially to the reviewers of my last chapter: Amethyst, Andrian, Giova, Alexial, Jean Lamb, Yasmine (with points off for not sharing the ice cream and the porn site address), and Lola.

Fencing Terms:

Epee = a fencing weapon with triangular cross-section blade and a large bell guard; also a light duelling sword of similar design, popular in the mid-19th century; epee de terrain; duelling sword.

Parry = a block of the attack, made with the forte of one\'s own blade; also parade
Beat = an attempt to knock the opponent\'s blade aside or out of line by using one\'s foible or middle against the opponent\'s foible.

Double’ = an attack or riposte that describes a complete circle around the opponent\'s blade, and finishes in the opposite line.

Line = the main direction of an attack (eg., high/low, inside/outside), often equated to the parry that must be made to deflect the attack; also point in line.

Thrust = an attack made by moving the sword parallel to its length and landing with the point.

Lunge = an attack made by extending the rear leg and landing on the bent front leg.

Guard = the metal cup or bow that protects the hand from being hit. Also, the defensive position assumed when not attacking.

First blood = this usually means one of the duelists has been hit and honor satisfied.

Feint = an attack into one line with the intention of switching to another line before the attack is completed.

Attack au fer = an attack that is prepared by deflecting the opponent\'s blade, eg. beat, press, froissement.

Fleche attack = lit. \"arrow\"; an attack in which the aggressor leaps off his leading foot, attempts to make the hit, and then passes the opponent at a run.

Riposte = an offensive action made immediately after a parry of the opponent\'s attack.

http://www.fencing.net/drills/glossary.html


So the story comes to an end. Yes, there is an epilogue. However, I have written this story to stand alone. The epilogue was more for my use. When I first started this story I wanted to have some sort of device to help me keep the characters true. By the second chapter I knew what device I was using and by the third chapter I had written my epilogue.

If you wish to read it, I shall post it in a couple of days. But if not, that’s fine. I’m very glad that you came along with me on this journey to a HP AU. Thanks again to Susanna for posting the challenge.

Interesting Tidbits (at least to me)

When I was trying to think of what Hermione’s mother could be using to prepare a wound, I thought of witch-hazel. It’s an astringent and it’s alcohol based. Although it’s an American plant, I can’t help but believe that it is something Maggie Granger would have had on hand.

I did a little search on the subject:
“Favorite of American Indians
Witch hazel was widely used by American Indians as a medicinal plant. The bark was used by the Osage to treat ulcers of the skin, sores, and tumors. The Potawatomi placed the twigs on the hot rocks in a sweat lodge to bathe and soothe sore muscles with the steam. The Menomini boiled the twigs in water, then rubbed the decoction on their legs to keep them limber, or to treat a lame back. Among the Iroquois, witch hazel had many uses including a strong tea for dysentery, to treat colds and cough, as an astringent and blood purifier among others. The Mohegans used a decoction of the leaves and twigs to treat cuts, bruises, and insect bites.
A Long History of Use
The earliest works on American medicinal plants included witch hazel, primarily noting its use to treat eye inflammations, hemorrhoids, bites, stings and skin sores, diarrhea and dysentery, and many other conditions for which a plant high in tannins would produce relief by virtue of its astringency. Herbalists consider it one of the best plant medicines to check bleeding, both internally and externally. A tea made from the bark or leaves is given to stop internal bleeding. The same tea was injected into the rectum to allay the pain and itching of hemorrhoids, which today comes to the consumer in the form of \"pads\" or ointments for hemorrhoid treatment. A poultice of the fresh leaves or bark was considered useful for relieving the pain and swelling of inflammations. Dipped in a cotton ball, witch hazel water is dabbed on insect bites to calm pain and relieve itching. I find it especially soothing on chigger and tick bites, as well as mosquito bites, and poison ivy rash.
What attracted the attention of witch hazel as an herbal product was a patent medicine developed in the mid 1800s. In the 1840\'s, Theron T. Pond of Utica, New York established an association with the Oneida Indians of the state. He learned from a medicine man that they held a shrub in high esteem for all types of burns, boils, and wounds. It was witch hazel. Pond learned as much as he could of the extract, and finally after several years, in 1848, Mr. Pond and the Medicine Man decided to market the extract, under the trade name \"Golden Treasure\". After several moves and sales of the company, a manufacturing facility was established in Connecticut, and after the death of Theron Pond, the name of the witch hazel preparation was changed to \"Pond\'s Extract\".”
http://www.stevenfoster.com/education/monograph/witchhazel.html

When I decided that Hermione would indeed have a play reading, I knew that it would be too much to think that she would start at the top playhouses, in fact the only legit theatres: the Drury Lane and Covent Garden. It was much more likely her play would be considered at one of the lesser houses such as Sadler’s Wells. Sadler’s Wells Theatre had been in existence since 1683 and during the time of this story didn’t have a sterling reputation. In 1807 there was a drunken brawl that led to disaster when the shout of “fight” was misheard as “fire” and 18 people were trampled in the ensuing panic. Still, it was a place of lively spectacle. Joey Grimaldi, the father of modern clowning worked there. If you wish to read up on it go to:

http://www.sadlerswells.com/home/history_full.asp#part4

A little bit on the sexuality of the Snapes:

Some might take exception to Lord Snape being such a prude and rather naïve. This Snape (and I’ve written about 9 others) is a loner and having been rather isolated, not really in the know. I’ve posited his dilemma as being a fear of intimacy based on an inability to trust. I decided that he was too straight laced and shy to actually go to a bordello, so his only experience of sex was the anonymity of the ladies of the street. (Streetwalker research involved seeing the Depp movie “From Hell”- LOL). In attempting to keep canon without Snape having a Death Eater background, I’ve given Snape a rotten childhood (okay with one good memory of playing with Lily) with an overbearing father, and a lousy time at Harrow. In addition, having been mocked by the Bon Ton for being an ugly SOB, Snape also has a certain cynical mistrust of society in general. His most selfless act, saving an orphan’s life, never ceases to give him discomfort. He doesn’t know what to make of Harry’s love. He is able to love an abstraction, Britannia, and has channelled this love into his patriotically spying for his homeland. In canon it’s still a mystery as to why Snape returned to the Light.

Hermione, on the other hand, is representative of the radical thinkers of early Nineteenth Century England. Richard Carlile’s pamphlet “What is Love” published in the 1820’s advocated honesty and equality for both the sexes in matters of love and sex. Although the book was not published until a half decade after this story, such beliefs were no doubt floating about amongst the Radicals of London:

“Against a prevailing ethos that saw sexuality as a dangerous, male-driven force to be controlled and used only for the purpose of making babies, Carlile spoke up for equality, pleasure and freedom. Lust was a natural human hunger felt by both men and women, he argued, and there was nothing shameful about it. In fact, he believed, it was repression and abstinence that caused social problems — unnaturally chaste women often became invalids, and men denied access to the good women they loved degraded themselves with prostitutes and seduced servants.”
http://www.laweekly.com/ink/printme.php?eid=2153
Stay tuned for the Epilogue, coming sometime soon!