A Looping of the Scales ~ COMPLETED
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
93
Views:
99,459
Reviews:
475
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
93
Views:
99,459
Reviews:
475
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own HP and am making no $$$ from this fanfic
During the Night
Chapter 80 ~ During the Night
Ron was in the kitchen, raiding the refrigerator. A huge amount of food was on the table as he constructed himself a Weasley sandwich. There was no set recipe for a Weasley sandwich, except that it involved at least eight thick slices of bread, condiments and any and everything edible that could be held between them. Ham, cheese, fish, poultry, meat, vegetables, pickles, half a roast—if he could stack it up—he could eat it.
Snape and Hermione entered the kitchen as Ron finished his masterpiece. He had three different kinds of bread to his sandwich. Pumpernickel, rye and sourdough. His sandwich balanced precariously on the plate as he looked up at the couple.
”Did you save anything for the rest of us, Weasley?” Snape asked him, eyeing the huge construction.
“There’s plenty of food,” Ron said, reddening a little.
”Well, good. I’m famished,” Hermione said, walking around the island and heading for the refrigerator. Ron gave her a quick look, then looked at Snape who was looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes.
”How was your night?” Snape asked him pointedly.
”Fine. Susan and I just explored the grounds,” Ron said a little tightly.
”By the barn, too?”
Hermione jerked her head out of the fridge when she heard that.
”Just for a second,” Ron replied, meeting Snape’s eyes. “But, I’ve got to go. Susan’s waiting for me.”
Ron picked up the sandwich and quickly exited the kitchen. Hermione looked at Snape with rounded eyes.
”Ron and Susan were near the barn?”
”Yes. I scented them when we left,” Snape responded.
”Do you think—think they knew we were—you know—“
Snape shrugged.
”I’m not sure, but they couldn’t have seen us under the hay, Hermione. We were completely covered up. Don’t worry about it.”
Hermione blushed, but returned to the fridge to gather up sandwich fixings. She frowned.
”You know, there was a lot more food in here this afternoon,” she said.
***************************
”Ron, are you eating again?” Susan said from the bed as Ron entered the room with his sandwich. He sat down on the edge of the bed.
”Yeah. I was starving,” he responded. “Shagging does that to a man.”
Ron and Susan had a rousing round of sex when they returned to Boleskine House, since the barn had been occupied. But Ron made himself a sandwich when they first arrived.
Susan smiled. Ron did expend a lot of energy during sex. Sometimes it felt as if he were everywhere at once. But still, it seemed as if his appetite was growing.
“Well, you’d better pay more attention to what you eat, Ron. Metabolism can change, you know.”
Ron paused before biting into his sandwich.
”You’d still love me if I gained a few pounds, wouldn’t you, Susan?”
She smiled at him.
”I’d love you, but there would be things we do now that would be hard to do if we were both big—“
”Things?”
Susan twiddled her fingers a little to show him she meant things sexual.
”Oh—things. Well, all the Weasley men are slender, so I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that, now—“
Ron blissfully bit into his sandwich, losing a little lettuce as Susan looked on, shaking her head.
Ron could certainly put it away.
**********************************
Blaise did his two hundred pushups before bed, the amount he did every night, then showered and retired. He would get up early for him morning run. His thoughts turned to Ginny. She seemed very angry at him at the clearing. It was difficult to read her, to tell if she found him exciting enough.
Blaise had learned early on that a witch would shag if a wizard turned her on, whether or not they went out with someone else. She just had to be reassured that the wizard wouldn’t tell, and Blaise, as much as an arse as he was, never told who he’d given the hard one to. He might say he had his sights on someone, but he wouldn’t tell if he’d been successful. But it was easy to tell he had, simply because he’d stop pursuing her.
Besides, Blaise liked doing witches that had boyfriends. It was clear ground, with no residual or unnecessary attachments. He didn’t have to give gifts or spend time with them. The relationship was always clear, always physical. His gift was his ability to ‘bring out the inner slut’ as he told Draco.
Doing the famous Harry Potter’s girlfriend would be stellar. He just had to watch for an opening to approach her. And carefully.
She had quite a temper.
********************************
Around two in the morning, Draco lay in his bed asleep and his stomach growled horrendously.
”House elf!” he mumbled, still partially in dream land..
He was used to doing this at home and at Hogwarts. When no squeaky voice answered him, he sat up in bed groggily, holding his stomach.
”I’m bloody famished,” he said, sliding out of bed and pulling his housecoat over his boxers. He stepped into his slippers and exited his bedroom. Instead of going to the kitchen, he walked down to Ron and Susan’s room and knocked hard on the door.
Ron woke up.
”Who is it?” he called sleepily.
”It’s Draco. I need Susan to fix me something to eat.”
Ron lay there in the dark in stunned disbelief. Susan was sleeping comfortably and deeply in the crook of his arm.
”Go bloody make your own food, Draco!” he called back.
“But she’s the house cook,” Draco said insistently.
”Yeah, but she’s not your personal servant, you git. Make your own food or I’ll serve you up a knuckle sandwich with plenty of punch!”
”Peon,” Draco snarled, leaving.
He was one of the privileged. He’d never made his own food in his life.
“That’s what I get for associating with people socially beneath me. They don’t know their place in the pecking order. Well, I’ll just contact father tomorrow and have him send me a personal servant immediately.”
Draco wasn’t usually this uppity. Over the past two years he’d been taken down a peg or two. Under usual conditions, he might have given a go of serving himself as a novelty, but this was the first time it had come up and he found himself furious that he wasn’t being accommodated. He walked into the kitchen, scrounged around until he found a few pumpkin pasties, took them and headed back to his room in a bad temper. He’d wanted something more substantial than this prepackaged stuff. He was used to fresh foods.
As he returned to his bedroom, two presences watched him with quiet glee.
***********************************
Ginny tossed and turned in Harry’s arms as she had a troubled sleep. She was dreaming about the Chamber of Secrets. She hadn’t done that in years.
Harry was sitting next to her, dying from the Basilisk’s bite and telling her to go find Ron and get out of the chamber.
Suddenly, Harry was gone and Blaise Zabini was standing over her, offering her his hand, his brown eyes sober. Confused at the scene change, she took his hand and he pulled her strongly to her feet. They stood looking at each other and suddenly he grabbed her and pulled her into a hot, searing kiss that sent her senses whirling. It felt so wrong, but so right as their mouths came together, his full lips covering hers as he pulled her tight against him.
She didn’t fight him as his hands ran all over her body and he kissed her, claiming her tongue as if he owned her. There were no words as he took her down to the stone floor, pulling apart her robes, his eyes hot and hungry, then tearing at his own. He opened his trousers, then reached between their partially nude bodies and pulled her knickers aside.
Then--
”Oh my gods!” Ginny breathed, sitting straight up in the bed.
”Wha—what? Ginny?” Harry said sleepily, automatically retrieving his glasses from the night stand and putting them on, looking up at his distressed girlfriend.
“Ginny? What’s the matter?” he asked her, concern in his voice.
”I—I had a nightmare,” she said in a small voice, pulling her knees up to her chin and shivering slightly. Harry sat up, too, slipping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her against him.
”About what?” he asked.
Ginny didn’t look at him. She couldn’t tell him she dreamed about Blaise shagging her, or about to shag her with no protestations.
“The Chamber of Secrets,” she replied.
Harry blinked at her. That had to be a nightmare.
”Want to talk about it?”
”No. No, that’s all right, Harry,” she said softly. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”
”Are you sure, Ginny?”
”Yes, I’m sure.”
”All right, then. Snuggle down. I’ll protect you,” he said, kissing her. Then they both scooted down in the bed, Harry’s arms wrapped around her protectively.
He kissed her temple, then settled back in to sleep. He was out in two minutes.
Ginny lay in his embrace, her eyes shifting back and forth in the dark. The dream had been disturbing. She hadn’t tried to reject Blaise at all. In fact, she had been into it even as she knew it was wrong.
What the hell was going on here? She wanted no parts of Blaise Zabini.
But the way her body was tingling, she knew it wasn’t completely true.
And that troubled her. She loved Harry very much and planned to marry him one day. At least, she thought she loved him. Didn’t she? How could she have a dream about Blaise if she did?
Maybe it was some kind of fluke, or a dream meaning something completely different than the obvious. Maybe Blaise shagging her had something to do with the way he’d screwed them with the demon last night. Yes, that could be it.
Ginny closed her eyes, hoping she’d found a feasible answer other than being secretly attracted to the dark wizard.
The alternative was just too disturbing.
She is easy to manipulate. Her passionate nature will be her downfall.
We can always use the chamber to open her up to our influence. How convenient.
**************************************
Blaise woke up at five, did a few stretches, then put on his running shorts, socks, trainers and a white t-shirt. He tucked his wand in his sock, then left Boleskine house for his morning run.
It was a nice run, with a variety of terrains to keep it interesting. The air was moist and cool, just the way he liked it as he fell into his stride. Forty-seven acres gave him a lot of running room and soon he was covered in a sheen of sweat as he covered more and more ground.
As the dawn broke and the sky lightened, he passed the gardening shed, and saw someone walking around it. He didn’t stop to investigate. It was probably the Muggle groundskeeper. He didn’t do Muggles if he could help it.
**************************************
Ron woke up and eased out of bed, heading for the kitchens again, feeling as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He raided the refrigerator again, making another Weasley sandwich and preparing a large glass of milk to wash it down with. It should tide him over until breakfast.
*************************************
Ginny awoke and decided she wanted a glass of water. She was still feeling antsy. She didn’t bother putting on her housecoat. It was so early the whole house had to still be asleep. Leaving Harry sleeping peacefully, she exited the bedroom, padding up the entrance hall barefoot.
************************************
Blaise entered the utility room, covered in perspiration and breathing heavily. He pulled off his shirt, revealing his wet chocolate body, and well-developed chest and abs. He was lean and strong, with an athlete’s build. There was nothing bulky about him as he wiped at himself with his balled up shirt, walking into the entrance hall. He stopped as he saw Ginny walking toward him in her nightgown, barefoot and her red hair tousled all over her head.
Ginny stopped when she saw him as well, looking at her with flared nostrils. His brown eyes shifted around the hall, looking to see if anyone else was up and about. Ginny felt as if there was a stone in her belly as the wizard began to purposely walk toward her, half-naked. His body was—awesome.
Ginny’s feet wouldn’t move and she couldn’t find her voice as Blaise approached her, all male, his dark body glistening as if oiled, his stride confident and purposeful. His eyes were locked to hers and he licked his lips.
Suddenly, the kitchen door opened and Ron appeared with his sandwich, blocking Blaise’s approach.
“Oi, Blaise. Going to get yourself a bite to eat?” he asked him.
Ginny seemed to snap out of her trance at Ron’s appearance, but it felt as if she’d been running, her heart was beating so fast.
”No, just some water,” Blaise said, turning off into the kitchen, silently cursing Ron.
Then Ron noticed Ginny.
”Hey, what are you doing up so early?” he asked her.
Ginny shrugged.
”I was going to get a drink of water,” she said.
”Seems everyone’s thirsty this morning,” he replied, heading for his bedroom with his milk and sandwich. “I’ll see you later.”
Ron entered his bedroom and closed the door. Ginny stared at the kitchen, then turned around and headed back for her bedroom and the familiar, safe embrace of Harry’s arms.
After all, what was in the kitchen wouldn’t cool her off in the least.
***********************************
Snape awoke to the sound of a machine outside. He quietly rolled out of bed and pulled aside the curtain, looking across the grounds. A man was riding on a lawnmower, mowing the terraced lawn in a careful pattern.
The groundskeeper.
Snape looked at Hermione, who was sleeping peacefully, then shrugged on his robes. He put on his socks and boots. He didn’t wear any other clothing, because he was in a hurry and planned to come back quickly.
He exited the house and strode across the grounds toward the man.
The groundskeeper was wearing a Kango hat, a lightweight blue and white plaid shirt and brown trousers with suspenders. A bit of gray hair stuck out from under the hat, it was almost past his collar. Kind of long for an old man. He looked to be about sixty. He artfully turned the mower in a pattern as Snape approached.
Finally, Snape called to him.
”Hallo!”
The groundskeeper kept driving the mower.
”Hallo!” Snape called again, moving closer. But the man didn’t seem to hear him over the mower engine.
Snape pulled out his wand, flicked it at the mower and quickly put it back. The mower died.
”Blast!” the old man said, getting off the mower and staring at it as if it purposely stopped running. “Bloody machine.”
“Er—excuse me,” Snape said walking up.
The man turned quite quickly, his blue eyes sharp as he took in the young wizard. He took out a kerchief and wiped his hands and then his brow.
“Who might you be?” the man growled at him.
”I’m Severus Snape. I’m currently occupying Boleskine House.”
The groundskeeper looked him up and down.
”You look like one of Crowley’s crowd, but you aren’t that,” he stated.
”No, I’m not,” Snape replied. “But I will be conducting some—experiments while I’m here, and I’d prefer they stay clandestine.’
”Oh, you do, do you?” the groundskeeper replied.
”Yes.”
Suddenly, a robin flew onto the mower and chirped at the groundskeeper, who gave the bird a little bow. It seemed to bow back at him, then cocked an eye at Snape, who thought it a bit odd. The robin let out another series of chirps, then flew away, the groundskeeper smiling after him.
Very odd.
The groundskeeper turned back to Snape and continued the conversation as if it hadn’t been interrupted by a little bird.
”Well, I don’t know how ‘clandestine’ anything you do will be, considering I watched you and your people floating boxes yesterday. You don’t hide what you are well at all.”
Snape’s eyes widened.
”Then those monsters last night, you flying on a broom with a girl and those two turning into animals—”
”You—you saw all that and didn’t report it to the authorities?” Snape asked him, wondering if he should Obliviate him now or later. He was leaning towards now.
”The authorities? Have no use for ‘em. Besides, what could they do against it anyway? It’s not like they have magic, is it?”
Snape just stared at him. The man walked up to him and offered him his hand.
”My name is Ben Weatherstaff,” the old man said. “I’ve been a gardener for years and years. This isn’t my first run-in with magic, you know. I once tended the gardens of a rich lord and his son and his niece used magic all the time. Not like you lot, but I’ve seen miraculous things. But, I can keep a secret. The question is if you can keep yourself a secret.”
Snape scowled slightly as he shook Ben’s hand. Why did that name sound so familiar? But there was something about the old man that felt safe.
”Where do you stay? On the grounds?” Snape asked him.
”No. Down the road a ways. Still Boleskine property though.”
”So how did you get in?” Snape asked him.
”I let myself in the gate, the way I usually do,” Ben replied.
”But—“
”But what?”
Snape blinked at him.
”Nothing,” he said.
He’d have to go check the ward he’d put on the gate. Weatherstaff shouldn’t have been able to go in or out.
”Did you have something to do with my mower going out?” Ben asked Snape.
Snape nodded.
”Well, bloody fix it. I want to get my work done before the sun gets too high,” the old man snarked. He watched as Snape pulled out his wand and flicked it, starting the mower. He didn’t even react to the display of magic. He just climbed on the mower.
”I put some fresh flowers in the kitchen,” he shouted over the mower. “Nothing like fresh flowers in the kitchen.”
Then, he began cutting again.
Snape watched him for a while, then turned and slowly walked back toward the house, his brow furrowed.
Ben Weatherstaff.
He was certain he’d heard that name before—but where, how and why?
Maybe Hermione would know.
*******************************************
A/N: Hm. Ben Weatherstaff. Anyone hazard a guess about him? Thanks for reading.
Ron was in the kitchen, raiding the refrigerator. A huge amount of food was on the table as he constructed himself a Weasley sandwich. There was no set recipe for a Weasley sandwich, except that it involved at least eight thick slices of bread, condiments and any and everything edible that could be held between them. Ham, cheese, fish, poultry, meat, vegetables, pickles, half a roast—if he could stack it up—he could eat it.
Snape and Hermione entered the kitchen as Ron finished his masterpiece. He had three different kinds of bread to his sandwich. Pumpernickel, rye and sourdough. His sandwich balanced precariously on the plate as he looked up at the couple.
”Did you save anything for the rest of us, Weasley?” Snape asked him, eyeing the huge construction.
“There’s plenty of food,” Ron said, reddening a little.
”Well, good. I’m famished,” Hermione said, walking around the island and heading for the refrigerator. Ron gave her a quick look, then looked at Snape who was looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes.
”How was your night?” Snape asked him pointedly.
”Fine. Susan and I just explored the grounds,” Ron said a little tightly.
”By the barn, too?”
Hermione jerked her head out of the fridge when she heard that.
”Just for a second,” Ron replied, meeting Snape’s eyes. “But, I’ve got to go. Susan’s waiting for me.”
Ron picked up the sandwich and quickly exited the kitchen. Hermione looked at Snape with rounded eyes.
”Ron and Susan were near the barn?”
”Yes. I scented them when we left,” Snape responded.
”Do you think—think they knew we were—you know—“
Snape shrugged.
”I’m not sure, but they couldn’t have seen us under the hay, Hermione. We were completely covered up. Don’t worry about it.”
Hermione blushed, but returned to the fridge to gather up sandwich fixings. She frowned.
”You know, there was a lot more food in here this afternoon,” she said.
***************************
”Ron, are you eating again?” Susan said from the bed as Ron entered the room with his sandwich. He sat down on the edge of the bed.
”Yeah. I was starving,” he responded. “Shagging does that to a man.”
Ron and Susan had a rousing round of sex when they returned to Boleskine House, since the barn had been occupied. But Ron made himself a sandwich when they first arrived.
Susan smiled. Ron did expend a lot of energy during sex. Sometimes it felt as if he were everywhere at once. But still, it seemed as if his appetite was growing.
“Well, you’d better pay more attention to what you eat, Ron. Metabolism can change, you know.”
Ron paused before biting into his sandwich.
”You’d still love me if I gained a few pounds, wouldn’t you, Susan?”
She smiled at him.
”I’d love you, but there would be things we do now that would be hard to do if we were both big—“
”Things?”
Susan twiddled her fingers a little to show him she meant things sexual.
”Oh—things. Well, all the Weasley men are slender, so I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that, now—“
Ron blissfully bit into his sandwich, losing a little lettuce as Susan looked on, shaking her head.
Ron could certainly put it away.
**********************************
Blaise did his two hundred pushups before bed, the amount he did every night, then showered and retired. He would get up early for him morning run. His thoughts turned to Ginny. She seemed very angry at him at the clearing. It was difficult to read her, to tell if she found him exciting enough.
Blaise had learned early on that a witch would shag if a wizard turned her on, whether or not they went out with someone else. She just had to be reassured that the wizard wouldn’t tell, and Blaise, as much as an arse as he was, never told who he’d given the hard one to. He might say he had his sights on someone, but he wouldn’t tell if he’d been successful. But it was easy to tell he had, simply because he’d stop pursuing her.
Besides, Blaise liked doing witches that had boyfriends. It was clear ground, with no residual or unnecessary attachments. He didn’t have to give gifts or spend time with them. The relationship was always clear, always physical. His gift was his ability to ‘bring out the inner slut’ as he told Draco.
Doing the famous Harry Potter’s girlfriend would be stellar. He just had to watch for an opening to approach her. And carefully.
She had quite a temper.
********************************
Around two in the morning, Draco lay in his bed asleep and his stomach growled horrendously.
”House elf!” he mumbled, still partially in dream land..
He was used to doing this at home and at Hogwarts. When no squeaky voice answered him, he sat up in bed groggily, holding his stomach.
”I’m bloody famished,” he said, sliding out of bed and pulling his housecoat over his boxers. He stepped into his slippers and exited his bedroom. Instead of going to the kitchen, he walked down to Ron and Susan’s room and knocked hard on the door.
Ron woke up.
”Who is it?” he called sleepily.
”It’s Draco. I need Susan to fix me something to eat.”
Ron lay there in the dark in stunned disbelief. Susan was sleeping comfortably and deeply in the crook of his arm.
”Go bloody make your own food, Draco!” he called back.
“But she’s the house cook,” Draco said insistently.
”Yeah, but she’s not your personal servant, you git. Make your own food or I’ll serve you up a knuckle sandwich with plenty of punch!”
”Peon,” Draco snarled, leaving.
He was one of the privileged. He’d never made his own food in his life.
“That’s what I get for associating with people socially beneath me. They don’t know their place in the pecking order. Well, I’ll just contact father tomorrow and have him send me a personal servant immediately.”
Draco wasn’t usually this uppity. Over the past two years he’d been taken down a peg or two. Under usual conditions, he might have given a go of serving himself as a novelty, but this was the first time it had come up and he found himself furious that he wasn’t being accommodated. He walked into the kitchen, scrounged around until he found a few pumpkin pasties, took them and headed back to his room in a bad temper. He’d wanted something more substantial than this prepackaged stuff. He was used to fresh foods.
As he returned to his bedroom, two presences watched him with quiet glee.
***********************************
Ginny tossed and turned in Harry’s arms as she had a troubled sleep. She was dreaming about the Chamber of Secrets. She hadn’t done that in years.
Harry was sitting next to her, dying from the Basilisk’s bite and telling her to go find Ron and get out of the chamber.
Suddenly, Harry was gone and Blaise Zabini was standing over her, offering her his hand, his brown eyes sober. Confused at the scene change, she took his hand and he pulled her strongly to her feet. They stood looking at each other and suddenly he grabbed her and pulled her into a hot, searing kiss that sent her senses whirling. It felt so wrong, but so right as their mouths came together, his full lips covering hers as he pulled her tight against him.
She didn’t fight him as his hands ran all over her body and he kissed her, claiming her tongue as if he owned her. There were no words as he took her down to the stone floor, pulling apart her robes, his eyes hot and hungry, then tearing at his own. He opened his trousers, then reached between their partially nude bodies and pulled her knickers aside.
Then--
”Oh my gods!” Ginny breathed, sitting straight up in the bed.
”Wha—what? Ginny?” Harry said sleepily, automatically retrieving his glasses from the night stand and putting them on, looking up at his distressed girlfriend.
“Ginny? What’s the matter?” he asked her, concern in his voice.
”I—I had a nightmare,” she said in a small voice, pulling her knees up to her chin and shivering slightly. Harry sat up, too, slipping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her against him.
”About what?” he asked.
Ginny didn’t look at him. She couldn’t tell him she dreamed about Blaise shagging her, or about to shag her with no protestations.
“The Chamber of Secrets,” she replied.
Harry blinked at her. That had to be a nightmare.
”Want to talk about it?”
”No. No, that’s all right, Harry,” she said softly. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”
”Are you sure, Ginny?”
”Yes, I’m sure.”
”All right, then. Snuggle down. I’ll protect you,” he said, kissing her. Then they both scooted down in the bed, Harry’s arms wrapped around her protectively.
He kissed her temple, then settled back in to sleep. He was out in two minutes.
Ginny lay in his embrace, her eyes shifting back and forth in the dark. The dream had been disturbing. She hadn’t tried to reject Blaise at all. In fact, she had been into it even as she knew it was wrong.
What the hell was going on here? She wanted no parts of Blaise Zabini.
But the way her body was tingling, she knew it wasn’t completely true.
And that troubled her. She loved Harry very much and planned to marry him one day. At least, she thought she loved him. Didn’t she? How could she have a dream about Blaise if she did?
Maybe it was some kind of fluke, or a dream meaning something completely different than the obvious. Maybe Blaise shagging her had something to do with the way he’d screwed them with the demon last night. Yes, that could be it.
Ginny closed her eyes, hoping she’d found a feasible answer other than being secretly attracted to the dark wizard.
The alternative was just too disturbing.
She is easy to manipulate. Her passionate nature will be her downfall.
We can always use the chamber to open her up to our influence. How convenient.
**************************************
Blaise woke up at five, did a few stretches, then put on his running shorts, socks, trainers and a white t-shirt. He tucked his wand in his sock, then left Boleskine house for his morning run.
It was a nice run, with a variety of terrains to keep it interesting. The air was moist and cool, just the way he liked it as he fell into his stride. Forty-seven acres gave him a lot of running room and soon he was covered in a sheen of sweat as he covered more and more ground.
As the dawn broke and the sky lightened, he passed the gardening shed, and saw someone walking around it. He didn’t stop to investigate. It was probably the Muggle groundskeeper. He didn’t do Muggles if he could help it.
**************************************
Ron woke up and eased out of bed, heading for the kitchens again, feeling as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He raided the refrigerator again, making another Weasley sandwich and preparing a large glass of milk to wash it down with. It should tide him over until breakfast.
*************************************
Ginny awoke and decided she wanted a glass of water. She was still feeling antsy. She didn’t bother putting on her housecoat. It was so early the whole house had to still be asleep. Leaving Harry sleeping peacefully, she exited the bedroom, padding up the entrance hall barefoot.
************************************
Blaise entered the utility room, covered in perspiration and breathing heavily. He pulled off his shirt, revealing his wet chocolate body, and well-developed chest and abs. He was lean and strong, with an athlete’s build. There was nothing bulky about him as he wiped at himself with his balled up shirt, walking into the entrance hall. He stopped as he saw Ginny walking toward him in her nightgown, barefoot and her red hair tousled all over her head.
Ginny stopped when she saw him as well, looking at her with flared nostrils. His brown eyes shifted around the hall, looking to see if anyone else was up and about. Ginny felt as if there was a stone in her belly as the wizard began to purposely walk toward her, half-naked. His body was—awesome.
Ginny’s feet wouldn’t move and she couldn’t find her voice as Blaise approached her, all male, his dark body glistening as if oiled, his stride confident and purposeful. His eyes were locked to hers and he licked his lips.
Suddenly, the kitchen door opened and Ron appeared with his sandwich, blocking Blaise’s approach.
“Oi, Blaise. Going to get yourself a bite to eat?” he asked him.
Ginny seemed to snap out of her trance at Ron’s appearance, but it felt as if she’d been running, her heart was beating so fast.
”No, just some water,” Blaise said, turning off into the kitchen, silently cursing Ron.
Then Ron noticed Ginny.
”Hey, what are you doing up so early?” he asked her.
Ginny shrugged.
”I was going to get a drink of water,” she said.
”Seems everyone’s thirsty this morning,” he replied, heading for his bedroom with his milk and sandwich. “I’ll see you later.”
Ron entered his bedroom and closed the door. Ginny stared at the kitchen, then turned around and headed back for her bedroom and the familiar, safe embrace of Harry’s arms.
After all, what was in the kitchen wouldn’t cool her off in the least.
***********************************
Snape awoke to the sound of a machine outside. He quietly rolled out of bed and pulled aside the curtain, looking across the grounds. A man was riding on a lawnmower, mowing the terraced lawn in a careful pattern.
The groundskeeper.
Snape looked at Hermione, who was sleeping peacefully, then shrugged on his robes. He put on his socks and boots. He didn’t wear any other clothing, because he was in a hurry and planned to come back quickly.
He exited the house and strode across the grounds toward the man.
The groundskeeper was wearing a Kango hat, a lightweight blue and white plaid shirt and brown trousers with suspenders. A bit of gray hair stuck out from under the hat, it was almost past his collar. Kind of long for an old man. He looked to be about sixty. He artfully turned the mower in a pattern as Snape approached.
Finally, Snape called to him.
”Hallo!”
The groundskeeper kept driving the mower.
”Hallo!” Snape called again, moving closer. But the man didn’t seem to hear him over the mower engine.
Snape pulled out his wand, flicked it at the mower and quickly put it back. The mower died.
”Blast!” the old man said, getting off the mower and staring at it as if it purposely stopped running. “Bloody machine.”
“Er—excuse me,” Snape said walking up.
The man turned quite quickly, his blue eyes sharp as he took in the young wizard. He took out a kerchief and wiped his hands and then his brow.
“Who might you be?” the man growled at him.
”I’m Severus Snape. I’m currently occupying Boleskine House.”
The groundskeeper looked him up and down.
”You look like one of Crowley’s crowd, but you aren’t that,” he stated.
”No, I’m not,” Snape replied. “But I will be conducting some—experiments while I’m here, and I’d prefer they stay clandestine.’
”Oh, you do, do you?” the groundskeeper replied.
”Yes.”
Suddenly, a robin flew onto the mower and chirped at the groundskeeper, who gave the bird a little bow. It seemed to bow back at him, then cocked an eye at Snape, who thought it a bit odd. The robin let out another series of chirps, then flew away, the groundskeeper smiling after him.
Very odd.
The groundskeeper turned back to Snape and continued the conversation as if it hadn’t been interrupted by a little bird.
”Well, I don’t know how ‘clandestine’ anything you do will be, considering I watched you and your people floating boxes yesterday. You don’t hide what you are well at all.”
Snape’s eyes widened.
”Then those monsters last night, you flying on a broom with a girl and those two turning into animals—”
”You—you saw all that and didn’t report it to the authorities?” Snape asked him, wondering if he should Obliviate him now or later. He was leaning towards now.
”The authorities? Have no use for ‘em. Besides, what could they do against it anyway? It’s not like they have magic, is it?”
Snape just stared at him. The man walked up to him and offered him his hand.
”My name is Ben Weatherstaff,” the old man said. “I’ve been a gardener for years and years. This isn’t my first run-in with magic, you know. I once tended the gardens of a rich lord and his son and his niece used magic all the time. Not like you lot, but I’ve seen miraculous things. But, I can keep a secret. The question is if you can keep yourself a secret.”
Snape scowled slightly as he shook Ben’s hand. Why did that name sound so familiar? But there was something about the old man that felt safe.
”Where do you stay? On the grounds?” Snape asked him.
”No. Down the road a ways. Still Boleskine property though.”
”So how did you get in?” Snape asked him.
”I let myself in the gate, the way I usually do,” Ben replied.
”But—“
”But what?”
Snape blinked at him.
”Nothing,” he said.
He’d have to go check the ward he’d put on the gate. Weatherstaff shouldn’t have been able to go in or out.
”Did you have something to do with my mower going out?” Ben asked Snape.
Snape nodded.
”Well, bloody fix it. I want to get my work done before the sun gets too high,” the old man snarked. He watched as Snape pulled out his wand and flicked it, starting the mower. He didn’t even react to the display of magic. He just climbed on the mower.
”I put some fresh flowers in the kitchen,” he shouted over the mower. “Nothing like fresh flowers in the kitchen.”
Then, he began cutting again.
Snape watched him for a while, then turned and slowly walked back toward the house, his brow furrowed.
Ben Weatherstaff.
He was certain he’d heard that name before—but where, how and why?
Maybe Hermione would know.
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A/N: Hm. Ben Weatherstaff. Anyone hazard a guess about him? Thanks for reading.