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And They Didn\'t Live Happily Ever After	By : ElizabethStump Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 90306 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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“And They Didn't Live Happily Ever After”

Chapter Fifty-Three
“Life Is But a Chess Game”
Disclaimer: In a progression of one to seven syllables
I
Disclaim,
Rowling owns
Harry Potter
Concepts and ideas.
I don't own a damn thing
These are all her characters.

============

There were a few correspondences addressed to Sebastian Delgado waiting in Severus' office as he arrived at work with a spring in his step, despite the fact his weekly parole meeting was that morning. Things were humming along nicely, except for the possibility that Tropical Storm Henri would yet again continue the ruination of the 2003 crop of fluxweed, which needed to be picked during a full moon. The moon didn't necessarily have to be shining above during harvest, but fluxweed had to be collected during that phase, nonetheless.

The next full moon would be September 10th in five days; Severus counted each day, hoping Henri would not develop into a hurricane. Even so, tropical storms were strong enough to cause plenty of havoc on crops; Hurricane Bill, back in late June, had decimated most of the fields where fluxweed was grown, just a month before the summer harvest usually began. Each successive crop that was sown afterwards was usually washed out by yet another hurricane or tropical depression that roared through the mid and south Atlantic. Even along the northern Atlantic coast where fluxweed grew naturally, wild stands of it were turned to slime from the incessant summer rains.

Severus would not let something as unpredictable as the weather foul his mood that day. Hermione had delivered the powdered bicorn horn to Ginny, and she estimated a Friday shipment of boomslang skin would await her when she came into work that morning.

Opening his correspondence, he smiled to see the first letter was from Katherine Bigelow.

-------

Dear Sebastian,

Thank you for the recommendation of crops to grow for some quick cash flow. Greasing these Spanish bureaucrats' palms is something I'm going to have to factor into the price of my plants. It is quite the other side of the coin to be working as a grower, harvester and exporter to Britain instead of an importer, but the climate is far more tropical, which seems to agree with me and the rare plants I once only imported. It's been a while since I've done this much physical labor, but it feels good to get my hands back in the earth once again, despite the slight ache in my back at times.

I was able to get a crop of young nettles sown and harvested, since there seems to be a shortage coming from the Americas, as you mentioned. Additionally, the burrowing four o'clock and Appalachian rose gentian. I should be able to get them both to flower before winter comes, providing a much needed infusion of Galleons. Unfortunately, due to the protected designation of fluxweed by both American Muggle and magical department agencies, and the damage sustained by this year's weather, I am unable to procure any fluxweed seeds. It seems they are keeping all seeds within the United States in order to ensure at least one crop this season through successive plantings, and something to plant next year in case there are no seeds to harvest this year.

As always, thank you for your continued guidance and frank opinions. Should you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask.

Kindest regards,

Katherine

-------

'The one thing I would ask for and she cannot help me.' Severus gave a small huff of disappointment.

Setting the letter aside, with dour and dark clouds now brewing above his head, Severus petulantly picked up the latest catalog from Pawnography in search of a new chess set. He had accidentally decapitated several pieces during his drunken and apoplectic bout of destruction after his first kiss with Hermione, which led to a very great misunderstanding, resulting in the aforementioned fit of rage. Severus' chess set would no longer play, especially since all of the monarchs of the set were beheaded.

Glancing through the pages, there was the usual Merlin era set, with a Guinevere model for the queen who was sculpted wearing a richly embroidered bliaut and mantle. In the catalog photo of the set, both Guinevere and her counterpart Morgana twirled to show off the fine craftsmanship of their costuming. Different periods were represented with their own themed chess board, each with their own historically accurate costuming.

When Severus reached the twentieth century section of the catalog, he came across a page promoting the new Albus Dumbledore chess set, and he dropped the catalog, flinching as if it bit his fingers. Severus did not want to look at the page and be reminded of his late mentor. He did not want to even view the figure of the Dark Lord, or see if he himself was made a replica in wood or semiprecious stone. Who knew which side he was placed in those sets, but he could guess – since he was not honored as a hero after the end of the war, but instead persecuted as a war criminal.

He picked up the catalog once more and selected a chess set from the Renaissance period: an Italian costumed ensemble. It had classical looking figures and looked refined without bordering on ostentatious.

Severus wrote a quick missive to Lavender that he required her to purchase the set for him. He handed the note with the catalog off to Wonkle to relay to their employer, Miss Brown.

The temporary hair dye formula was now completed and the male enhancement potion had been thoroughly tested with the help of his lover and temporary Potions apprentice, Hermione. Severus pulled out his notebooks from the nearly four years he had worked for Miss Brown and began paging through them. The edible body paint was still not finished, but he would have time to work on that later.

It would create a sticky situation for his employer should it be pieced together that Severus Snape's disappearance coincided with the “going abroad” of her former Potions master, Sebastian Delgado. Therefore as a way for Severus to help Miss Brown to counter any claims that Severus Snape and Sebastian Delgado were one and the same, Severus would need to draft letters creating proof of the ongoing owl correspondence between Miss Brown and Master Delgado, based on his notes.

The thought of his nom de guerre brought back memories of his latest meeting with the elder Mrs. Weasley.

The part-time gigolo still inwardly winced when recalling the name Molly assigned to him two days ago, during their second meeting.

'Eduardo.' He shuddered.

Severus noticed that when Miss Brown read the letter to him, having received it while he was in her office at the time, she did not mock him for adopting the Spanish accent, and gave him merely a sympathetic grimace.

Given that Molly was now a client, he prayed for his escape to come as soon as possible.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Having woken up late Friday morning, Hermione's day would only go from bad to worse. She had come home just after midnight, the night before, having helped Severus test the last batch of male enhancement potion. Sixty-six hours was nearly as potent as the seventy-hour version, and left her no less bow-legged and exhausted than after her first marathon fuck fest with Severus, in which they tested the most potent of brews. She was thankful she wasn't too tired to remember to cast the Arabic post-coitus freshening charm and spell away the bruises and love bites before returning home, as Ron was waiting for her and pounced upon her once she set foot through the threshold. Ron went much longer than usual and came twice, never losing his erection after the first orgasm to continue on to a much longer session for his second go at his wife. Hermione was beginning to think she was getting calluses in her delicate areas since she wasn't sore anymore where she normally would be. She figured her body was becoming adjusted to a very healthy and rigorous sex life. By the time Ron finished, it was nearly two in the morning and Hermione was exhausted beyond all measure.

In addition to oversleeping, Hermione's mirror kept on winking and giving her an exaggerated thumbs-up, having witnessed the longest and most “successful” coupling Hermione and Ron ever had; Hermione came more than once, something Ron even congratulated himself for before falling asleep eventually. The mirror was not being very cooperative as she was rushing to get ready for work, which delayed her even more. She also wanted to take Ron to task for letting her oversleep, but she didn't have time for a row with him since she was running late as it was.

The line at the Twenty-Four Blackbird Bakery was unusually long that morning, as she arrived later than normal, and by the time she got to the front of the line, they were out of all sweet baked goods. No scones, no hot runic buns, no brioche, no sweet croissants – just plain croissants and unsweetened breads. The croissant she grudgingly purchased shattered into a thousand tiny buttery shards upon the first bite, Hermione had to spell the croissant flakes off her robe twice as she rushed off towards work, eating and running at the same time; she wished she had the forethought to fix breakfast at home, since it would have been faster.

Madam Dushka was waiting for her in the hallway, tapping her foot impatiently, alternating between glancing at her wristwatch and folding her arms with obvious impatience and displeasure as Hermione bolted down the hallway to reach the lab.

“You're late,” her boss barked at her.

“I'm sorry, this is the first time I have overslept for work and it won't happen again,” Hermione apologized, trying not to snap at her boss. It was very unlikely Hermione would get fired, but considering how important her position was in helping Severus and Draco escape, she did not want to imperil her employment status either. “I'll stay late to make up for lost time,” Hermione added.

This seemed to give Madam Dushka some satisfaction, as her scowl turned into a triumphant smirk. She minced off towards her office.

Still running down the hallway, Hermione hurriedly changed into her work robes.

Bursting through the lab doors, careful not to startle Trevor if he was in the middle of testing a batch, Hermione's eyes scanned the pile of boxes, reading the labels of ingredients marked on the side.

'Where is the boomslang skin,' she worried, beginning to panic that a shipment didn't come in. 'It should be here.'

Before Hermione could turn around, Trevor piped up, “I got here a little earlier today and started in on the Re'em blood and boomslang skin. I hope that's okay,” he added, sounding a bit uncertain if he was qualified enough to test them without her supervision.

Hermione winced, then schooled her features before turning around with a reassuring smile that it was okay that he showed some initiative. “No, that's good. You're perfectly capable of testing those ingredients.”

'There is always next week,' she told herself, making a mental note to cut short her Thursday night with Severus in order to make sure to beat Trevor to work next Friday, when the next batch should be arriving. She just hoped Ron would not keep her up half the night again, or she'd have to make sure to feed Ron a sleeping draft so he could get in a decent night's rest and wake up extra early.
Trevor stayed late, helping Hermione. They both were in a foul mood, as the box marked “Powdered Limonite,” which is commonly known as yellow ochre, was mislabeled. In the process of cleaning up the lab after the explosion, Trevor and Hermione deduced that the shipper had switched the label for the powdered limonite with the label for powdered sulfur and vice versa. Both ingredients were yellow, but though the color difference between the two should have been enough to cause suspicion, even Hermione admitted to herself that if she was distracted enough – as Trevor had been when he opened the box as Madam Dushka came in to invite Trevor for a leisurely lunch – she might have made the same mistake.

At least it was Trevor's fault for blowing up the lab, which was only slightly different from his recent accident of nearly burning down the lab. But Trevor found his lunch invitation with his boss rescinded, as Madam Dushka had to make an emergency appointment with her hairdresser, since half her hair got burnt off in the explosion because she had been standing closest to the cauldron.

Once the lab was put back into order, Trevor and Hermione had some paperwork to fill out as to why they had to test the powdered sulfur again, as blowing it up is not a measure of purity for Ministry standards. There were also forms to inform the shipper of the mislabeling so they could notify all their other customers of the mix-up before someone in another country blew themselves up on accident.

“Thanks for staying late,” Hermione told him, as he changed out of his work robes.

“It's the least I could do considering I nearly blew us all up,” he replied morosely.

She gave a small quirk of a grin. “Well, at least the explosion was small, though I don't think our boss would say that.”

Trevor cringed in memory of the furious look on Madam Dushka's face as she stormed out of the lab on the verge of tears. “I have buggered it big time.” He sighed despondently. “What should a bloke do when flowers, candy, and wine won't cut it for an apology this time? She's really pissed at me. You're a witch, what do you suggest?”

Hermione was momentarily stunned, as Trevor had just indirectly confirmed that the two were having an affair, which – considering that Madam Dushka was married and considerably older than him – would be scandalous should it become common knowledge within the Ministry. It wasn't so much of a shock to Hermione since she was having her own affair with a man old enough to be her father. But so far, despite Madam Dushka's obvious flirting with Trevor in front of her, Hermione had not heard any rumors from others about an office romance; however, she wasn't eating lunch with the other office witches anymore due to time constraints, so she couldn't be certain of that.

“First of all, discretion. Any suggestions I give you, don't let her know I gave them to you.” Hermione knew that knowledge – without the other party knowing you're in possession of it – can lend one the upper hand, so she didn't want Trevor to tip his hand to his lover that Hermione knew of their tryst. “Second, jewelry is always a good idea, but considering your current financial status and your father cutting you off, I can't recommend that.” Pondering a moment, Hermione looked away and up at the ceiling while she thought. “I would bet that her husband makes her do all the cooking at home. Cook for her and give her a nice massage, as not having to do a chore and being pampered a bit would certainly be a treat that one can't necessarily buy.”

Hermione could certainly attest to the fact that Severus cooking for her and giving her massages certainly wooed his way into her heart.

“Wow, I never would have thought of that,” the young wizard admitted honestly. “And thanks. Yeah, maybe I should have been a bit more subtle. I shouldn't have aired my dirty cauldron like that,” he admitted sheepishly, now realizing how he lacked discretion.

“No need to raise the ire of Mister Dushka, if he is unaware or would become overly concerned,” Hermione added, driving home the point that Trevor should not make his mistress' indiscretions more public than they already were, with her obvious flaunting with Trevor.

Hermione had started to like Trevor since he turned over his new leaf, after having his apprenticeship taken away from him and being financially cut off from his father. He had been making an honest effort to work at his job and be more humble. If anything, the death of Trevor Spawn at the hand of an enraged jealous husband would mean Hermione having to train a new person for the position of Potions ingredient tester, and possibly someone more annoying and incompetent than Trevor initially was.

“Thanks.” He gave her a lopsided smile and left the lab with smudges of burnt sulfur still clinging to his cheek.

After the door swung shut, Hermione summoned the latest copy of the Daily Prophet and checked the world weather report, frowning as Tropical Storm Henri showed a track that threaten Georgia and the Carolinas before the next full moon.

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A/N: A bliaut is an over-tunic, worn over the chainse (chemise) in Medieval period dress.
A short chapter, but most future chapters run in the 6,000 to 9.000 word range with a few topping out at 10,000 to 12,000 range.
Once again, thanks to my wonderful betas, JuneW and Keladry Lupin/Rogue_Panda. Send them a little love and thanks for their generous help.
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And They Didn\'t Live Happily Ever After