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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.

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Johanna's Ride (Short Chapter)

Hermione and Snape returned to Judge Turpin's house, shared dinner with their host and retired to the servants' quarters. The judge seemed quite distracted and relieved to see them go.

Now Snape and Hermione were in the parlor, Snape standing in front of the many paned window and looking down into the street, his hands clasped behind his back. Hermione was sitting by a lamp in an upholstered chair. Bored, she had decided to try her hand at embroidery, but after sticking her fingers several times through the blasted hoop, she'd given up. She looked up at Snape, who was humming a very catchy little tune.

"What's that you're humming?" Hermione asked the Potions master.

"Just a catchy tune," he responded, then he looked over his shoulder. "Would you like to hear the lyrics?"

Both of Hermione's eyebrows rose. She was in a more comfortable gown, sans petticoats and her hair was down.

"What? Do you mean you're going to sing them? I don't know if my ears are ready for that," Hermione replied. Snape frowned.

"I've been known to hold a decent tune when inclined," he said rather stiffly, turning to face her. Hermione sat forward attentively.

"All right, let's hear it then."

Snape cleared his throat, bobbed his head a couple of times to get the proper waltz-like beat, then sang the following:

The history of the world, my love

Is those below serving those up above

How gratifying for once to know

That those above

will serve those down below!

Hermione began to smile. The professor had a rather nice voice and she liked the song. It sounded—revolutionary, as if the lower class were finally going to get their due. Then, Snape sang the next verse:

What is that?

It's fop

Finest in the shop

Or we have some shepherd's pie

peppered with actual shepherd on top

And I've just begun

Here's the politician, so oily

It's served with a doily, have one

Put it on a bun

Well, you never know if it's going to run

Try the friar, fried, it's driiier

"Stop! That's a perfectly ghastly song! It's about eating people!" Hermione exclaimed, shocked.

"Yes, but rather catchy just the same, don't you agree?" Snape said with a smirk. "It's called 'Have a Little Priest.' It's a duet that was sung by Mr. Todd and Mrs. Lovett just this afternoon in honor of their new venture. I imagine right now, Todd has completed his new barber's chair above the basement of the meat pie shop."

"New chair?"

In response, Snape drew a finger across his throat, pretended to pull a lever at his side and stumbled back a foot or two, then extended his hands in a "tada!" pose.

"Meat for the meat pies," he concluded, a wicked gleam in his eyes. He was enjoying squicking Hermione out. And she was squicked to the nth degree.

"Oh no!" Hermione gasped. What made it even more horrible was that they knew what was going on, but couldn't or wouldn't do anything to stop it. A distant whinny sounded, and Snape darted to the window, looking down intently.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, popping up and going to the window as well. A small carriage was stopped in front of the judge's home.

"I believe Miss Johanna's ride is here," Snape responded.

"Her ride? Where is she— hey!"

Suddenly a kicking, screaming Johanna was carried out fireman-style and thrown into the carriage by Beadle, who climbed in after her. The horses and carriage took off at a gallop. Judge Turpin was standing on the stairwell watching it go.

"They kidnapped her! Oh my gods!" Hermione exclaimed as a crazed Anthony tore out of the darkness in pursuit, screaming at the judge, who screamed back at him. The sailor ran into the night after the carriage.

"And that is that," Snape said, drawing the blind as Hermione blinked at him. "The wheels are set in motion. Now, we observe and wait the next few days."

"Where did they take her?"

"To the asylum. Miss Johanna had planned to run off with Anthony this very night. The judge had other plans for her. He's going to let her cool her heels until she better appreciates her—situation."

"The insane asylum! That was a terrible place in this time period. All kinds of atrocities were committed there," Hermione said as Snape stretched.

"She'll only be there a few days," Snape responded, exiting the parlor. "Turn off the lights when you retire. We will be joining the judge for breakfast in the morning. Please remember to hold your tongue. We are guests here and have nothing to do with his personal affairs."

"But . . . but . . ."

"Good night, Hermione."

Snape retired to his room.

Hermione plopped back down in the chair, fuming. She felt like creeping downstairs and adding some voracious Bumbuggers to the judge's bed. He'd sleep very well with his arse itching from the inside. But she finally retired.

At breakfast, Hermione held her tongue, but glared daggers at the judge every chance she could get away with it. Mostly, she looked down at her plate as Snape and the judge talked lightly as if everything were right with the world. Finally, Hermione couldn't stand it any longer.

"And how is your ward, Judge Turpin?" she asked him, trying not to scowl.

Snape tried to kick her under the table but she had anticipated that, and had her legs safely drawn aside.

"Actually, Johanna has gone abroad. For her—health. The atmosphere here didn't seem to agree with her," the judge said rather sourly.

"I bet," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"Excuse me?" the judge responded with his brows drawn together. Gods, he looked so much like Snape, both of them glowering at her slightly.

"I said oh yes. The weather here is quite damp," Hermione said in a quick save.

The judge's brow relaxed. Snape still glowered however.

"Indeed," he agreed.

Hermione remained silent for the rest of the meal. The judge excused himself, he had hanging to do. And not pictures.

"Hermione, you're trying my patience," Snape growled at her as he stood up and nearly yanked her out of her chair.

"I can't stand this. He's a beast. He has an innocent girl locked up in an asylum simply because she wants to be free," she complained as she wrested away from him and put on her bonnet.

"She will be free of him completely in a few days. Now come along. We have reconnoitering to do."

They exited Turpin's house and headed for Fleet Street.

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

Over the next few days, Snape and Hermione watched as Mrs. Lovett's business increase nearly twenty-fold. Mr. Todd's business was doing quite well but few noticed.

"It's like a roach motel," Hermione said to Snape as they sat on a bench across the street, pretending to read books and enjoy the weather. "The customers check in, but they don't check out. How does no one notice?"

"Mr. Todd is quite careful. There are never any lines and he questions his customers to find out their status. If they are 'passing through' then most likely, they'll be passing on into the next batch of pies. You have to admit they're doing a thriving business. Nothing like cooperation, I say."

"You're disgusting," Hermione hissed.

One evening they came back to Judge Turpin's house to find that Beadle had hand-delivered a batch of Mrs. Lovett's meat pies.

"I hear they're all the rage," the judge said, digging into a shepherd's pie. Hermione nearly hurled and excused herself as Snape hummed "A Little Priest." He curiously picked up a pie . . .

"Severus, can I speak to you, please?" Hermione hissed, popping her head back into the parlor and frowning at him. Snape put the pie down and addressed Turpin, who was chewing blissfully.

"Please excuse me, judge. Apparently, my ward needs a nursemaid."

"I understand completely. Rejoin me if you have time," Turpin replied around his supper.

On the stairwell, Hermione was livid as they ascended.

"You were going to eat that pie!" she said accusingly.

"I was not going to eat it. I simply wanted to taste it," Snape replied.

"Taste it? But it's made out of people and you know it! That's just sick!"

"People are animals, Hermione. Just because they are supposed to be intelligent doesn't mean they don't taste pleasant. Look at a pig. Who would expect it to taste the way it does by mere appearances? It's all in the seasoning."

"Well, you won't be eating a little priest while I'm around, I don't care how well it's seasoned," she huffed, entering the servants' quarters.

"Truly, there's no accounting for taste," Snape quipped, closing the door behind them.

A/N: Another short chapter. The next is going to be rather complicated so I thought I'd get this part out of the way. Thanks for reading. *
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A Visit to a String of Pearls