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A Visit to a String of Pearls	By : Ms_Figg Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 4911 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Sweeney Todd and am making no $$$ from the posting of this fanfiction.

Chapter List
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Chapter 2 ~ Settling In

Hermione suddenly stopped walking, forcing Snape to stop as well. She looked up at him with both eyebrows raised as high as her bonnet.

”Judge Turpin?” she gasped then looked around the dreary, nearly monochromatic setting with amazement. She looked back at him.

”’The String of Pearls.’ That’s not an item, that’s the original title of the penny dreadful written by James Malcolm Rymer and Thomas Peckett Prest! It was authored in eighteen parts. I can’t believe this! You brought us to the world of Sweeney Todd? He’s a serial killer! We have to stop him!”

Snape shook her a little to silence her as a couple walked by, then he said, “I knew your Gryffindor tendencies coupled with your bleeding heart philosophies would probably become an issue. Let me explain it to you this way—number one, this story is complete. Number two, it is only a story, fiction. And number three, if we interfere in any way, we will be lost along with the story itself. I don’t know about you, Hermione, but I’d prefer a less sudden and stupid demise. We have to let the story play out in its entirety before I can collect what I came for.”

Another well-dressed gentleman in a top hat passed by them, tipping it toward Hermione politely.

“But, story or not, people are going to die,” Hermione said stubbornly.

”People die every day,” Snape responded, pulling her forward so they started walking again. “And as I said before, these are fictional characters in a fictional story. They end when the story does, the whole lot of them. So spare me your ridiculous objections.”

Hermione continued to fume.

”This is a perfectly horrible story. Todd kills a sailor named Lieutenant Thornhill, then kills other patrons, robs them, and Mrs. Lovett turns them into meat pies and feeds them to everyone. Then, Todd poisons her and is hanged. It’s all about murder and death.”

Snape smirked slightly.

”It’s not as dismal as that, Hermione. This particular version of the story veers substantially. Firstly, no sailors have been injured in the making of this screenplay,” he said.

”Screenplay? Is this a movie, professor?”

”Yes. The latest incarnation entitled “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.” It’s—a musical. Quite entertaining, I must say.”

Hermione frowned at him.

”Yes, it figures this would be the type of musical you’d enjoy. Honestly.”

Suddenly they heard singing. Snape stopped. It was a lone male voice. Hermione let out a little gasp as a young man, with dirt on his face and bleeding from his nose and mouth appeared from an alleyway. He carried a huge duffel bag and looked up furtively at a high window before turning and walking away.

”Oh my goodness! He’s injured,” Hermione said.

”I stand corrected,” Snape said softly. “One sailor was injured. That is Anthony, an acquaintance of Mr. Todd. He has eyes for Judge Turpin’s ward. The judge didn’t take kindly to his taking a ‘gander’ at her through her bedroom window, and let him know it.”

”That’s awful. He was beaten just for looking at her?”

”Gandering at her, actually. I take it you’ve never seen the movie.”

”No. Violent movies aren’t my cup of tea even when couched with music,” Hermione said rather high-handedly. “I prefer intelligent, thoughtful cinema.”

“I can imagine. When you say intelligent, thoughtful cinema, you mean romance, no doubt,” Snape said, urging her forward. “Handsome leading men, ridiculous situations and an abundance of heaving breasts that must be won over. Or, as known in modern society, chick flicks. I prefer Sweeney Todd’s bloody machinations to that brain-melting tripe.”

The row of houses on this street faced an ornate wall, presumably of a public garden. The houses themselves had uniform fronts, and reminded Hermione of a palace, the central houses sporting columns and terraces. They stopped in front of one of the columned homes.

”Judge Turpin’s residence,” Snape said, releasing Hermione’s arm and walking up to the door. He knocked sharply. A few seconds later, the door opened and Hermione covered her mouth with her hand as she looked at the man who answered it.

He was the spitting image of Peter Pettigrew. He was dressed in a high collar and vest, but there was no mistaking the resemblance. His ratty little eyes peered at Snape.

”May I help you, sir?” he asked politely. Dear gods. He even sounded like Pettigrew. But Pettigrew was dead, killed by his own silver hand when he hesitated to harm Harry.

“My name is Severus Snape, and this,” he said, gesturing toward a wide-eyed Hermione, “is my ward, Hermione Granger. It is my hope to take up lodging with Lord Turpin during my stay in London. I have a letter of introduction from Sir George Simpson of the Hudson’s Bay Company.

Snape reached into the inner pocket of his waistcoat and presented a document with an official-looking black wax seal. Peter’s double took it and studied it.

“Wait here,” he said, closing the door.

”That’s Peter Pettigrew!” Hermione hissed at Snape.

”Peter Pettigrew is dead,” the wizard responded. “That is Judge Turpin’s lackey, Beadle.”

”Well he looks like Wormtail, and it’s unnerving to say the least,” Hermione complained.

”Well, gather up your nerves and keep them tucked away,” Snape said tightly as the door opened again and Beadle appeared, bowing slightly.

”Do come in, Mr. Snape and Miss Granger. The judge will meet you in the parlor,” he said, then his eyes narrowed slightly. “Where are your bags?”

”They will be delivered later,” Snape said, allowing Hermione to enter first, and then following behind. Hermione stared at Beadle as she passed him, and he covertly waggled his bushy eyebrows at her, thinking she was showing “interest.”

“Ew,” Hermione thought.

They walked through the house which was decorated with flowered wallpaper, paintings, plants and far too much furniture. They entered the sitting room and the walls were lined from ceiling to floor on three sides with books. Hermione sat down on a settee done in red velvet with a handcrafted ridged grape pattern. She valiantly tried to get her petticoats under control. Beatle followed them in.

”Lord Turpin will be in shortly, Mr. Snape. Could I bring you and your ward a bit of tea?”

“Yes!” Hermione blurted out.

Beadle looked a bit startled and Snape frowned at his apprentice. Hermione quickly backtracked to fix her faux pas.

”Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry, Mr. –“

”Bamford,” Beadle said.

”Mr. Bamford. It’s just that I am famished and I’m afraid the lack of sustenance has robbed me of proper etiquette. I’m extremely embarrassed and would hate for you to think I am the product of poor breeding. Please accept my apologies, sir,” Hermione simpered. Snape clearly thought she was overdoing it.

But Beadle was convinced it had been an outburst due to the lack of food which then brought on a resulting addleness of mind.

”Quite understandable, Miss Granger. The lack of food has caused many to offend in ways far greater than your small outburst. Some go to the gallows for it. I will bring you something to eat immediately.”

Beadle bowed then exited the sitting room, closing the door behind him. Snape immediately chastised Hermione.

”Don’t you think you were being a bit too gratuitous?” he asked her.

Hermione scowled at him.

”In an age of insignificant women who don’t speak out, I thought I groveled perfectly for my sin of speaking out of turn,” she responded sarcastically.

“Don’t be cheeky.”

Hermione was about to respond, and not nicely when the door suddenly opened.

If Hermione was shocked by Beadle, she was on the verge of passing out as Judge Turpin entered the room. The judge stopped and stared at Snape, who bowed smartly, walked forward and offered his hand.

”Lord Turpin, it is a pleasure to meet you, sir,” he said.

The judge blinked at him several times, then took his hand firmly.

”Mr. Snape, a pleasure to meet you as well. I must say the resemblance is uncanny. You look as I did twenty-five years ago,” the judge said, studying him.

”If that is the case, I will certainly cut a fine figure in my latter years, sir,” Snape replied. “I would like to introduce you to my ward, Miss Hermione Granger.”

Snape gestured to Hermione, who stared at Judge Turpin in amazement. He and Snape looked like father and son. Only the color of the eyes differed. Both had the huge, hooked, honker of a nose that Snape was known for.

The judge nodded at her politely in acknowledgement.

”Miss Granger,” he said.

Hermione continued to stare at him until Snape cleared his throat meaningfully. Hermione snapped out of it, then popped to her feet and gave the judge a little curtsy.

”Lord Turpin,” she said, her voice cracking a little.

The judge looked back at Snape quizzically.

“She hasn’t eaten,” Snape said as if that explained it all.

”Oh. Well, tea shall be served shortly. Do sit down, Mr. Snape,” the judge said, offering him a chair. Snape took it, and the judge looked down at the document given to him by Beadle.

”You come highly recommended, Mr. Snape. Sir George holds quite a high position in Hudson’s Bay. It says here that you trade primarily in spices, but Hudson’s Bay is known for its fur trade.”

The judge was fishing.

”Ah, yes. I am in a transition. The East India Trading Company is failing fast, trouble in India, you know. So, I decided to try my luck with the fur trade. It is very lucrative. Canada has a wealth of fur animals, as do the former colonies. I am in London to establish a few buyers.”

The judge nodded.

“Yes, the East India Company has lost much of its power since it lost its monopoly. You are obviously a shrewd man, Mr. Snape. May I offer you a drink?”

”Yes, thank you.”

As the judge prepared libations for himself and his look-alike, the door opened and Beadle arrived with a large platter containing a tea kettle, cups and several scones accompanied by clotted cream and jam. He placed it on a table.

”Please, help yourself, Miss Granger,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her again while the two other men were engaged.

Hermione ignored the eyebrow waggle, stood up and approached the table. Beadle watched as she prepared her tea, then covered a scone quite liberally with cream and jam. She placed it on a napkin then took a huge bite.

”Mmmm,” she breathed, chewing blissfully as Beadle shook his head slightly. Hermione finished the scone in record time, sipping tea between bites, then starting on a second scone.

“This bird can’t be a product of good breeding,” Beadle thought, and he looked over at Snape speculatively. Well, he looked respectable enough. Perhaps the girl became his ward recently and hadn’t had the proper training.

“Do you like the scones?” Beadle asked as she nearly finished the second one.

”They are delicious. Thank you, Mr. Bamford.”

”You might want to save one or two for Mr. Snape and the judge,” Beadle suggested.

Hermione immediately colored. She would have liked to have eaten a third one, but it was clear she was already coming across as a glutton in petticoats.

”Oh, of course,” she said, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin, then finishing her tea. She returned to her seat, the edge off her hunger. Beadle left the room and Judge Turpin approached Hermione.

”Miss Granger, I also have a ward. Her name is Johanna. Unfortunately, she is of a rather frail constitution and does not socialize,” the judge said. “I doubt you will meet her. I am sorry about that.”

”I understand,” Hermione said, fighting a scowl.

She knew Judge Turpin didn’t want her to talk to Johanna because he wanted to keep the young woman for himself and was afraid that Hermione, who was probably well-traveled, would, like an escaped slave, bring the girl news of freedom.

”I’m afraid I only have the servants’ quarters to offer you. They are in the attic. There are two bedrooms, a small sitting area, indoor plumbing and a small kitchen. I hope that will be satisfactory.”

”Of course,” Hermione replied, knowing the judge was only humoring her. He’d already made the arrangements with Snape. “Thank you for your kindness, sir.”

Judge Turpin bowed.

“You are more than welcome, my dear. If you like, I can send up some embroidery work to help occupy your time,” he said. “A delightful pastime for the fairer sex, embroidery. Not challenging at all.”

He laughed lightly and turned to Snape.

“Would you like a spot of tea?” he asked.

“No, sir. I would like to peruse our lodgings. I—we have an appointment in two hours,” Snape replied.

”We? Surely Miss Granger does not engage in your business pursuits?” the judge asked disapprovingly.

“No, sir. I bring her along because before she became my ward, she was, shall I say, sadly lacking in proper socialization and now I have to expose her as much as possible to the world so that she knows her proper place and mannerisms. It is quite the chore.”

Hermione frowned at Snape from underneath her bonnet, lowering her head so the judge wouldn’t see her glower.

”Ah, that explains much,” the judge said, looking over at the platter and the number of missing scones. Only three of the five were left. Normally, the men would eat two and the woman, one. Obviously, Miss Granger needed training up.

“Well, Mr. Snape and Miss Granger, please follow me. Beadle has gone to the square.”

Hermione stood up and followed the judge after giving Snape a withering look. Lacking in proper socialization? He should talk.

Snape simply gestured at her to move quickly and followed her out the door.

*******************************

After the judge excused himself, Snape used his wand and created several trunks and bags, then clothing to fill the closets. Hermione harassed him the entire time with accusations about why he chose this particular storyline.

“The judge looks just like you, and is almost as big a fiend as Sweeney Todd,” she declared.

”His looks are coincidence,” was Snape’s cool reply.

”Sure. And Beadle. He looks like Pettigrew. Is there anyone else that resembles someone I know?” Hermione demanded. “I’d like to be warned if there is.”

Snape shrugged non-committally as he closed the door to her petticoat filled closet.

“I don’t know,” he lied. “This world is full of characters. It’s a distinct possibility that a few may favor someone you’re familiar with.

”But they don’t ‘resemble’ people. They look and sound EXACTLY like them. Even Judge Turpin sounds like you.”

”As I said, Hermione, it’s coincidence. There are only so many feature combinations that humans can have. The idea that some look just like others isn’t that far-fetched.”

”No, but two people in the same place? That has to be more than coincidence. You planned this.”

”Of course I did, but it has nothing to do with the characters. It’s the story I need to get through. Everything else in inconsequential. Now, enough about that. We have an appointment to keep.

*******************************

Snape and Hermione left Judge Turpin’s domain arm in arm. As Snape led them through the streets as if he’d lived here, Hermione couldn’t hold in her curiosity any longer.

”Where are we going? Please tell me, professor.”

Snape glanced at her sidelong. Normally, he would make her wait, but this time, he wanted to see her reaction to his answer.

”We’re going to meet the man himself, Sweeney Todd,” he replied.

***********************************

A/N: Well I got out another chapter. Thanks for reading.
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A Visit to a String of Pearls