Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Vespertine	By : BrownRecluse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 3610 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: All characters and elements that comprise the wonderful world of Harry Potter belong to J. K. Rowling. I’m just borrowing them for a bit of non-profit fun. Also, I used to be known as BrownRecluse, but a name change was long overdue. ;D

Chapter List
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Chapter VI.
A Most Confounding Owl

Hermione tried every locator spell, applied every theorem of Arithmancy she knew, but efforts to locate her parents proved fruitless, a pendulum swinging in dead air. Because she’d cast the original spell to protect them from all knowledge and memory of her, she began to suspect that in doing so, she’d unknowingly created a protective shield over them from further intrusion. The keen sting of being betrayed by her own magic was almost more than she could bear. While part of her wanted to remain in this house that no longer felt like home, just in case her parents returned, a greater part of her knew that she had to go. Eventually, the neighbors would notice someone living in the house—neighbors who remembered her and who would ask all sorts of awkward questions about why her parents had so suddenly not only disowned but also disavowed their only daughter.

Days passed, during which she slipped back into the rhythm she’d grown accustomed to during her months as a fugitive: reading and catnapping during the day, followed by nights of restless watchfulness. While she neither expected nor feared retaliation from the remaining Death Eaters, wary uneasiness dogged her like a second shadow and try as she might, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her. Every noise made her jump, every passing car created a shadow play against the closed curtains, a fleeting parade of ghostly silhouettes of leaves and branches that never failed to set her heart racing and her grip tighten on her wand. For the sake of her own sanity, she had to leave, but Hogwarts was in the midst of repairs and she couldn’t go back to the Burrow. While Grimmauld Place was an option—one with an extensive library—she didn’t relish the thought of staying there with only Kreacher for company. The the tent was still tucked away in her bag but the mere thought of camping out conjured bright neon lights at the top of her Just Hell No list. So, Hermione squatted in the house and waited.

The answer came to her late one balmy afternoon. Tired of staying cooped up indoors, she’d allowed herself a rare treat: supper on the patio in the back garden. The walls surrounding it were high, there was enough vegetation to shield her from prying eyes, and an indigo tinge had already started seeping into the shadows that crowded its narrow confines. As she toyed with her soup, another shadow, this one a solid pitch against the illusive softness of l’heure bleue, swooped over the garden and dropped a small packet on the table.

A letter? Surely, she thought, there must be some mistake.

Having received no mail for almost a week, she’d resigned herself to the simple fact that no owl could find her in a place where technically, she’d never existed. Even magic had limits. For a long time, what seemed to pass like eons, she just sat, staring at the small, light rectangle on the glass table, its pallor the only light while all else around her darkened.

Finally, she conjured a tiny light from the tip of her wand and took the letter in hand, hoping for news from Harry or even Ron, although the latter was a long shot. They hadn’t spoken since their last days at Hogwarts. She turned it over to find she’d been wrong on both counts. Its seal was from Hogwarts.

While she stared at the letter, the owl made a sudden reappearance, settling uninvited in the metal chair opposite hers.

She waved her wand over the seal, commanding any charms contained in the missive to reveal themselves.

The owl cocked its head in the unsettling manner common to strigiformes and regarded her with its copper bright eyes. Then it ruffled its feathers and squawked.

“Oh, be patient, would you?” she said.

A scent, exotic and heady as incense, wafted out as she opened the letter. She recognized its author immediately. The embossed letterhead, thick parchment, and delicate quillwork were unmistakable in their distinction. Settling back, she read it aloud:

Dear Miss Granger,
I need to speak with you regarding a matter of some urgency, the details of which I am uncomfortable describing in this letter, should it be intercepted. Please come to Hogwarts immediately and do not risk being seen. I have recast the jinx, so Apparation is no longer possible on school grounds.
"Believe me, that will not be a problem. Gods, if she only knew," Hermione said, looking up at her odd dinner companion. When the owl did nothing but glare, she continued reading:
I value your complete discretion in this matter.
Sincerely,
Prof. Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress
The owl squawked again. "No return reply's been requested and I've nothing to give you but oyster crackers." She waved the letter at it. "Off with you!"
The owl snapped at her and then, wheeled around the garden. By the time it vanished into the night sky, she was already halfway through the kitchen, summoning her backpack from the hall closet.
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