Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The New Life	By : lilith395 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 14590 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter and I don't earn anything from these stories.

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A/N: This is it. the horrible bit of the story I have actually been stuck on for two whole bloody years. I swear to anything that is holy that I know this is basically shite, and that this might actually extend into the first half of the next chapter. I'm sorry. I truly am. But there is just no way I can polish it up. I just cranked it out now, the way it wanted to be written, I guess, and I am so frustrated with it that I don't even know what to call the bloody chapter. Tomorrow, or maybe the day after, depending on what time I get off work, I shall post the next bit and I can finally get back into the swing of things. I hope. Ugh. I just need to go away from my computer now, before I give in to the temptation of throwing it out of my window into the blastedly 'festively' decorated yard next door. With my luck it would miss the bloody lights and hit my own car... Yes. Stopping myself now. I will see you guys in a day or so.
After almost burning half the house down, the twins have confessed they found some 'sparkles' as they called them, in the attic of the shop one day when their father had taken them to work. Which sparked a row between George and Mrs. George, and resulted in them taking the twins home. I am still utterly in the dark over how they managed to light the blasted stuff. They are three, for Merlin's sake! Although maybe I might admit that it brought back some delightful memories of the first time I saw those fireworks lit, back when the horror in pink descended on Hogwarts. But not out loud. Never out loud. It would completely ruin my reputation.
Most of the following day has been reasonably quiet. And, dare I say it, pleasant. The larger part of the ginger clan spent the afternoon in the air, and I had a lovely time drinking tea outside in the sun, aided just a smidge by quite a few warming charms. Thankfully, both Remus and Granger prefer to keep their feet firmly planted on the ground, like me, and Andromeda deemed herself too old for such tomfoolery. Her words, not mine. I wouldn't dare call one of the Black sisters old. I would not live long enough to repeat it.

"I would never have thought to see you here, though, Severus. I would much sooner imagine you at my sister's, if you had to be anywhere for Christmas at all." Andromeda remarks.

"I assure you, I would have chosen the same thing for my own Christmas, however, I have traded spending one day in the company of this lot with her spending one day in the company of mine."

"So you attended the ball yesterday?"

I nod. Glancing over to the make-shift Quidditch pitch I follow the snitch Potter is chasing and spend a good few minutes watching him and Ginevra fighting over it. I suddenly realise Andromeda has been silent for the same amount of time. Turning my gaze on her I catch her watching me intently.

"What?"

"Nothing." She replies, and turns away to watch the game. Forgive me for being paranoid, but I don't like the way she looked at me. The obvious suspicion in her eyes tells me she has not lost all of her Slytherin traits, no matter how long she spent being married to a Huffelpuff.
********
I blame the alcohol. Whether it's the eggnog or the fire-whiskey, I am not entirely sure of, but there is no possible way sobriety is to blame for the personal slice of Hell I find myself in now. After Christmas dinner, with the occasional Christmas-cracker and several people trying to sneak the blasted paper hats on my head, as they have settled for the muggle variety of crackers for this night, and Granger's marvellously bright idea of taking the children carolling in Ottery St. Catchpole, which I skipped out on, thank you very much, I am now subjected to the undoubtedly drunk Weasley-clan performing horrid little plays in the middle of the crowded sitting room. I am about one more pathetic attempt at a drunken joke away from turning my wand on myself. Or, more likely, on everyone else.

Not even my self-replenishing glass of Ogden's Finest gives my mind any reprieve from this abominable excuse for a Christmas celebration. Though, I have to admit, it is, as they say, 'a neat trick'. I think I might drown myself in this glass before the night is over.
I am barely paying attention to the things going on around me when the inevitable happens. I am far enough along in my drowning myself to make the idiotic mistake of thinking things can't get any worse, when a mock duel breaks out on the make-shift stage. Something about re-enacting the battle between Albus and Gellert Grindewald. Yeah. I have no idea. Unfortunately I am still sober enough to realise that two drunk men with wands are a recipe for disaster. I am not mistaken in that assumption.

I see the spell coming, of course I do. I invented it. But I am not fast enough to counter it. Before I have located my own wand and pulled it out of the wrist sheath, Granger is already hanging in the air by her ankle. The majority of the party laughs it off easily, and Potter quickly releases her with a simple 'finite'.

I sink back into the armchair I have commandeered and go back to nursing my fire-whiskey. Somewhere in the room I can hear the shrill voice of Greengrass, but I take no notice. That is, until a drink is thrown in my face.
@DawnEB: Thank you. Thank you so much. And let me say that I have no intention whatsoever of having you wait very long on the next chapters. I hope to have this thing finished somewhere mid-januari. The way it was originally planned two years back. However, to be fair, I never planned to take a two-year hiatus either. But I am seriously delighted you are back with me, and I hope that once I get fully back into the swing of this story, that I do not disappoint.
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