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Don\'t Avada Kedavra the Messenger	By : mariamaroon2 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 4999 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Don't Avada Kedavra the Messenger
- 1
With a loud crack, a scowling young woman appeared suddenly in the middle of a dreary field behind a row of houses. Hermione Granger—witch, genius, warrior, hero—stomped across the grayish grass toward one of the dingier brick buildings with a very sour demeanor.

Deliver a message! she thought to herself. "Brightest witch of her age" my arse! Nearly get myself killed a thousand times fighting the vilest wizard known to our kind and what's my reward? Messenger work for the Order and their lazy, snarky, hook-nosed potions git!

She stopped a few paces from the back door of her destination and closed her eyes. Her figure relaxed and she sighed. Hermione Jean Granger, calm down. It's not as though you did any of that for a reward, and how selfish of you to even think in such terms. She opened her eyes and concentrated on smoothing the frown from her face. Really! It's just a bit of apparition, nothing to get so riled over. Minerva wouldn't ask if it weren't necessary. Although one great greasy bat refusing to raise a wand for Patronus messages hardly seems like 'necessary' Order business, now does it?

After taking one last moment to smooth her wild curls and be sure her expression was completely pleasant, Hermione stepped forward and knocked briskly on the weathered, peeling door. She was determined to get this bothersome duty over with as quickly and neatly as possible before heading to the Three Broomsticks for a highly deserved (in her estimation) butterbeer with Ron and Harry.

She waited a full minute before knocking again, then only twenty seconds before knocking quite hard. When she was still unanswered, a slight frown passed over her face and she reached for her wand. Before it could leave her pocket the door swung open, making her jump and squeak most embarrassingly. The former Hogwarts potion master, as sneering and domineering as ever, loomed over her. The huge annoyance she'd felt over the assignment seemed miniscule compared to the expression that immediately overtook his pale features.

"Miss Granger," he purred menacingly. "Had I known you were going to interrupt my peace and sanity today I'd have brewed something in advance." The evil glint in his eye told her he didn't mean tea. He didn't ask why she came or invite her in, only stood in the doorway like a great black gargoyle.

She remembered to keep her face and voice free of unpleasantness before she spoke. "Professor Snape, I do apologize for dropping in on you like this." He snorted as she quickly continued. "I hope you're well. Anyway, I brought a message from the Order. I'll just leave it for you." She pulled the envelope from her pocket, handed it to him, and turned to walk back into the field.

"Miss Granger!" His near shout startled her and she turned back immediately. Her face colored when she realized how his voice still held that power from her schooldays. "Don't leave before I've read the damned message. The old harpy probably needs a delivery. I'm not sure why a silly girl is so much more reliable than an owl, but I'd rather not hear from her personally to be berated over improper postage."

Oh, how Hermione's face burned! Only a few moments in Snape's presence and he'd still expertly pinpointed just the right sensitive spot. Messenger was bad enough, now she was reduced to postage! Her fingers itched to grab her wand and send a curse flying to lop off his big, beaky nose. Course that'd probably do the bastard a favor! she thought in a silent rage.

He smirked at her, her composure clearly lost now, then opened the letter and read. The further down the page his eyes went, the darker his expression became. Finally, he folded it up and walked away from her into the house. She stood for a few moments, bewildered, before he shouted, "Are you going to come in or simply stare at my home with your mouth open like a trout?" She almost did turn to leave, but remembered this was Order business and finally decided to follow him inside.

She had to walk quickly to catch up to his long strides, but fortunately the house was too small to lose sight of him. She passed through a dusty kitchen and only slightly less dusty living room, only just catching a glimpse of him opening a hidden panel in his bookshelves before he vanished down a flight of stairs. She followed him down, noting in passing a staircase going up as well. Of course a creepy git like Snape hides half his house away in secret passages, she thought. I'll bet this place has better wards than Gringotts, though I see far more appeal in piles of gold than a greasy, snarling old codger like him. Catching him off-guard with a few curses might be worth the gold, however.

She was lost in deciding which curses she might pick when Hermione bumped into a solid mass and fell to her rump on the steps. Snape didn't look back, but stopped waving his wand over a closed door for a moment. "Kindly try to resist rubbing yourself against me, Miss Granger." She growled loudly, now losing all pretense of pleasantness and just hoping she could make it to the Three Broomsticks without curses flying first.

He ignored her and finally opened the door, not bothering to hold it for her. She scrambled to catch it before it closed and followed him inside. Her anger was forgotten for a moment as she stared in awe. They'd come to a potions laboratory, similar to those he kept at Hogwarts but much, much nicer. She assumed he'd have a private workroom at home, of course far better than a school lab, but this was worlds away. Every surface was spotless. Despite the condition of the upstairs rooms, she doubted she would ever find a speck of dust here. The stone counters and wooden tables were worn smooth and completely unstained. The wall shelves were packed with specimens and ingredients, but every container was labeled neatly and arranged in perfect order. It was also completely odorless, surely the work of magic but still impressive for a potions lab. The light was dim until he raised it gently with a motion of his wand. It was bright enough to see precisely but still pleasant.

He dropped the letter disgustedly on a table and began opening cabinets around the room, pulling jars and tools out to arrange on a counter. She could see glimpses of an enormous stock of bottles, boxes, various other containers, utensils, and books. He scowled and seemed deep in thought but arranged conveniently the items he brought out almost automatically. Hermione knew he was orderly and precise from her days as his student, but she had never seen him work in his own space and with such practiced habit. As furious as she still was with him, she was impressed.

He stopped suddenly and turned to her, addressing her as though he'd never stopped talking. "Minerva requires a delivery of Loose Lips Potion. You are to remain here, out of my way, until the brew is finished. You will then deliver the package to her directly before gallivanting off to get smashed with your doltish boyfriends. Can you manage all that?" She opened her mouth to argue but he stopped her. "It is in the letter, read it for yourself."

She did read the letter, and Minerva had in fact requested that she wait for the potion to be completed before returning to Order headquarters with it herself. Besides being slightly miffed that these directions were given to Snape and not her, she realized the potions master had mentioned her plans with Harry and Ron. "Snape, have you been spying on me? How did you know I was going to the Three Broomsticks today?"

The potions master smirked. "Really Miss Granger, for 'the brightest witch of her age' you are certainly slow on the uptake. Why would a spy trained in Legilimency allow intruders to traipse about his backyard without investigating what they're up to?" He rolled his eyes as she suddenly cast her own downward. "Don't bother, I am not interested in listening to your blathering more than is absolutely necessary."

Hermione silently vowed to refuse future requests from McGonagall if they involved Snape in any way. Messenger duties were one thing, but this kind of ridicule and now violation was entirely beyond the scope of her responsibilities. She was just moving to sit on a stool near the door when he arranged a beautiful silver cauldron over a conjured flame. She'd never seen him brew a potion outside of class. At Hogwarts he generally used student supplies for demonstration or, rarely, a larger set made of plain copper. The tools he used at home though were clearly of a much higher quality. Ever the curious mind, Hermione moved closer to inspect his setup. The cauldron was quite thick and decorated with lightly etched scrollwork around the outer rim. He had two stirring wands, one of which was wood and the other silver. The latter must have been made to match the cauldron because it had the same scrollwork around the handle.

She was just leaning forward to look inside the cauldron when a flash of light momentarily blinded her. She reeled backward and nearly toppled over a stool. "I believe I ordered you to stay out of my way, witch," Snape drawled, dropping his wand back into his pocket. She sat on the stool, rubbing her eyes until they stopped flashing. "You could have said something without blinding me you bloody bastard! I was just looking to see what tools you use!"

When her vision cleared and she peered up, scowling, she saw he looked pleasant for the first time today. Well, as pleasant as Snape ever was. His smirk was slightly more cheerful than cruel. Slightly. He ignored her for a few minutes while he prepared the first ingredients. She glared blackly at the floor, preparing for a few hours of silence, when he began to speak while he worked. "The cauldron is a Schmidt, custom ordered. I prefer a thickness between Schmidt standards six and seven for most brewing, and they are happier than most cauldron smiths to oblige me due to their longstanding Hogwarts contract. The silver is mined in New Zealand. Most modern silver cauldrons are sterling silver, a silver-copper alloy popular with muggles, for durability. I request pure silver as I am not a bumbling fool and take the time to care for my tools properly. The quality of my potions is therefore much higher, though as you will remember from your classes, most wizards wouldn't know a poor quality potion if it blew their empty heads off."

Hermione listened intently, first stunned by his willingness to share, then absorbed fully. He went on to explain the various features of other tools, such as the precision balance of his scales and how he sharpened his knives. She didn't ask any of the thousands of questions humming in her mind, afraid to disturb his generous flow of information. He demonstrated every step of the recipe for her in great detail. During his few moments of silent concentration, she noted how he actually seemed to enjoy this bit of impromptu instruction. Snape had never seemed to enjoy teaching a great deal, and she, Harry, and Ron assumed he'd been quite happy to accept a supposedly generous retirement package from Hogwarts after his recovery from Nagini's attack. Privately Hermione thought it was a damned shame the Ministry had forced that bit of cleanup—pretending to reward a war hero while really ushering an unpleasant thorn in their sides into obscurity. McGonagall had been furious, but without any resistance from Severus, eventually acquiesced in light of more pressing battles with the new administration.

Snape still served as potion master for the Order, but outside of that minor role had escaped the minds of most in the wizarding world. Even Order members rarely noticed whether he attended meetings or not. Harry and Ron were more than happy to have the "greasy git" mostly out of their lives. Hermione thought she was too, but every now and again she did feel a niggling sense of anger at the injustice of it all. Not everyone knew the sacrifices Snape had made, but most Ministry officials involved in his trial and subsequent retirement "honor" had seen the pensieve memories or read the transcription. Only the small group of his personal friends (if that's what one might call them) within the Order understood what pain he'd really endured, and even among them most (including, Hermione admitted, herself) let their dislike of his snarky personality blot out the memory. Hermione wondered if Snape really had more than a few former coworkers who acted as true, genuine friends. Her heart ached at the thought of him spending his early retirement alone, fading into little more than a footnote in Professor Binns's next hundred years of lectures.

Her depressing train of thought was interrupted when she realized he'd stopped working and was glaring at her like a melted Longbottom cauldron. She was immensely grateful she'd been staring into space and not in his line of vision. She hated to imagine what his reaction would be to her pity.

"If you are quite finished woolgathering, Miss Granger, we should wait upstairs for the potion to simmer. Unlike you, I don't relish the idea of bruising my backside on a wooden stool for the next hour." He glared at her while she straightened and moved to the door, blushing lightly. He was just turning the lights down when she tried the door handle. "You put the wards back up, Professor. It's locked."

With snort he nearly pushed her aside and tried to open it himself. "Surely you're capable of turning a door—" The knob wouldn't turn for him either, even after he performed a number of wordless spells on it. Hermione felt her stomach drop as he removed, replaced, and again removed his wards to no avail. He spent another 10 minutes casting spells before attempting to apparate. He turned a few times but remained in the basement, his momentary expression of puzzlement replaced immediately by a scowl. She tried a few times herself (ignoring his remarks about a "lesser" witch having worse chances of success than himself), but gave up and waited while he tried a number of spells and even a few potions before giving up.

Hermione cast a Patronus, but her otter simply swam around the room a few times before fading away. She saw him watch it with an amused smirk and finally lost her temper. "Well, if you're such a great wizard, why don't you try? Oh wait, I forgot, you're too lazy to send a Patronus message, which is how I got trapped down here with you in the first place!" She crossed her arms and prepared to out-huff him, but lost her battle quickly when his expression darkened finally into a rage she'd only seen from him on the rarest (and most terrifying) occasions.

"Miss Granger," he replied in his silkiest, most dangerous voice, "I advise you not to think too hard on the spellcasting habits of other wizards. Especially wizards with whom you may be trapped for an unknown amount of time in a laboratory full of poisons, very dangerous wizards with little patience for cheek."

It took a great deal of effort to contain the numerous replies she had, but while braver than most, Hermione wasn't so brave that she wanted to test the glowering potion master's implied threat. Finally, she swallowed her pride and took a seat back on her stool next to the simmering potion. Snape resumed casting behind her, trying a variety of new spells on the door.

Hermione, as was her usual method, tried to think her way out of the problem. Someone must notice them missing eventually, though she didn't think anyone would be dropping by for a visit with Snape in the near future. For a moment she thought Harry and Ron would come looking when she didn't show up at the Three Broomsticks. She quickly nixed that idea though—as good friends as they were, the "dream team" were clueless as ever when it came to Hermione. They'd probably think she went to the library instead, she realized with a frown. Her parents wrote once every couple weeks and visited infrequently. McGonagall might wonder where her delivery was eventually, but she trusted her Order members enough not to come looking for a few days. Otherwise, Hermione was slightly depressed to realize she couldn't think of anyone else who might notice her or Snape missing.

Without thinking she let out a long sigh. Snape turned irritably and frowned at her. "What is it now, Miss Granger? Unhappy with the accommodations? Bored with lazing about watching me try to find a solution? Care to file a few more complaints about my behavior?" Her lack of response beyond a mild roll of the eyes seemed to deepen his sneer.

"No, Professor. For your information, I was just realizing that no one will be inclined to notice either of us missing for at least a few days. If we can't find a way out, which seems doubtful, we may starve to death in each other's delightful company," she spat.

He narrowed his eyes for a moment, then, taking in her miserable expression, sat on the stool next to her and waved his wand. A bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey and two glasses appeared. Her eyes bulged and he chuckled darkly. "Drink, Miss Granger, as it might keep us from killing each other before we can starve. Although I am beginning to think we might manage in any case."

***

Thanks for reading and reviewing! Sorry to leave y'all in suspense for a couple days there. One of my browser add-ons went rogue on me and had AFF mostly unusable. I've been beating my head on the desk trying to figure it out, and I probably thought up then forgot 10 plot ideas in the meantime. :P Ahh technology! Despite my best intentions to keep this short, looks like I might need to start a second chapter tomorrow.
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Don\'t Avada Kedavra the Messenger