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Lost in the Tale	By : sappysappysappy Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 6455 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not profit from the writing of this story.

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Lost in the Tale

Prologue – Scene of the Crime

Hermione felt the excitement of the moment warring with the doubts and worries that plagued her since yesterday morning. In a few short moments she would apprehend the last known Death Eater walking freely on British soil and release her best friend Harry from his final bond with the past to live his life as he pleased. She knew Harry would not thank her for this but she wouldn’t let that stop her. If he faced Snape and killed him, he could end up in Azkaban. And she didn't think Harry's attitude toward Snape was healthy. Besides, she could do this on her own. She was the one who found the clues to his hidey-hole, wasn’t she? And she could capture him without Harry at the front. Harry wasn’t the only one who could ‘do stuff’ she thought.

Entering the dismal house that once belonged to Snape she took a nervous breath as she glanced around. It was still a mess from the last search they gave it a year ago and musty from leaking rains. It was a shame really, to let all those wonderful books Snape gathered over years and covered his walls with go to waste. But the Ministry didn't like people messing around with dead or missing people's stuff. They took the proverb 'A man's home is his castle' very seriously.

That was fortunate now that she knew where he was. What a perfect idea. Hiding in a Book! She of all people should have figured it out.

There was no one to interfere. She made certain sure that Harry (and for that matter Ron, who was sure to inform him double quick if he got a squeak of this) was otherwise occupied. The Quidditch bet was still, as always, a sure bet.

Looking at the dump otherwise known as Spinner's End, she was taken aback once again by the inconceivable contradiction between this house and the man she knew all her teen-days as Professor Snape. How could such an elegant, well-spoken aristocratic Sorcerer like her former Potions' Professor come from such a run-down hovel of almost Dickensian mundaneness? Perhaps it had been overcompensation for his childhood that she saw in his adult guise but either way, as she well knew, the man was evil through and through.

She wasn't here to understand him; she was here to get him. It was vital that it would be her and not either of her friends, especially Harry, that caught him. The single-minded obsession Harry developed about Snape since Headmaster Dunbledore's murder was dangerous and unhealthy in her humble opinion. She was afraid that Harry would seek his death or worse in his search for revenge for all the hurts he suffered and she didn't want him to suffer the consequences of such rashness.

Taking a calming breath, Hermione drew her wand and started going through the countless books filling every hole and cranny in the room.

At first she was drawn to the promising titles of Dark Arts' tomes such as 'Life through Death', 'Necronomicon' or 'Darkest Transfigurations' but they were just run of the mill finger-biting books. She tried Transfiguration books, figuring he'd have to cast some nifty transfigurations to hide in a book but there was nothing there either. Book after book was searched as the windows grew darker and her eyes blurry, but to no avail.

Could she have been wrong? She was so sure when the idea struck her, the clues she found in the journals left in his rooms at Hogwarts, vague though they were, couldn't have been wrong. Racking her brains for new ideas she lifted her wand and decided there must be some enchantment hiding the book she was looking for. Gripping her wand forcefully, she started spinning on her heals and shouting "I, Hermione Granger, command you to reveal yourself!" There was a tremor and encouraged, Hermione repeated her performance a second and then a third time.

With a high piercing whistle that deafened Hermione momentarily, the enchantment broke.

Smiling broadly, she clasped her hands above her head and jumped up and down a few time. She did it! She bested her stern, stingy Professor in a duel of Charms.

Looking around, she started going over the stacks again, looking for any book that looked unfamiliar. Why hadn't she catalogued them? She was Hermione Granger for crying out loud. She wondered whether the book will turn out to be a diary, like Riddle's Diary from their second year. Well, there was only one way to find out – buckle down and look.

Some of the books looked unfamiliar. Surely there was no 'Book of Kicks and Cuffs' on the third shelf before? Or how about the 'Subtle Potions for Brats, Prats, Rats and Busybodies'? Wrinkling her forehead Hermione shook her head. She probably didn't notice these books before. They were certainly not the exotic hiding place that her evil yet brilliant former professor was using. They were just odd books. Going painstakingly through the entire library again she almost missed the little book hidden behind a stack of household Cleaning Charms' books. At first glance it looked like a well read fairy-tales book of unassuming Muggle origins but from the moment she saw it she was sure this was the one. Its inconspicuous location, its childish subject in the midst of this mature and oft grim collection, its fictional nature, all were indisputable proofs, in her mind, that she's been right all along and this was the place where Snape was hiding.

Floating it to the table she considered it carefully. The logical thing to do was hand it over to her superiors in the Ministry of Magic and not 'tickle a sleeping dragon' herself as it were. But what if they didn't believe her that this was more than a book? What if they laughed at her over-imaginativeness and thought she were a fool? The unassuming oh, so Mugglish cover of the book mocked her to her core.

Gripping her wand tightly, she used it to nudge the book open, ready for anything to jump at her out of it. There was nothing there. Nothing that is, save for page after page of silly Muggle fairytales. The well worn pages were stained and sellotaped.

How could this be? She had been so sure. But wait. Could those old food-stains be carefully disguised deadly potions inscribing sinister Runes on the innocent-looking pages? Pointing her wand excitedly at some of the stains she murmured a revealing spell. The first turned out to be ketchup, the second Earl Grey and the rest no better. One looked at first very promising, having a complex list of ingredients, half of them even she did not recognize but after running an exhaustive series of tests it turned out to be no more than the leftovers of a Muggle shampoo.

It was useless. The book was obviously just the boring Muggle thing it seemed to be. She had no business with it. She should return it to its place and forget she ever saw it. Living in a book indeed. About to pick it up, she stopped suddenly, trembling all over.

The book was trying to make her forget about it. She had almost succumbed to it. Standing back, she started firing hex after hex at it, trying to crack the illusions and protections surrounding it. She suppressed a yawn. Damn, but she was starting to feel sleepy. She pinched herself hard. She was going to succeed no matter what.

Just then, a particularly obscure and powerful Hidden Face Counter-Curse finally seemed to have an effect.

In the middle of a page, a murky image started to surface. She could see lots of books in a small room at the center of which stood a young woman pointing her wand at an open book. Beside her stood a shadowy figure with an open, fuming book in his hands. Grinning widely, she jabbed her wand into the half-open Portal and willed it open with all her might.

She didn't notice the shadowy figure in the image discarding his copy of the 'Subtle Potions for Brats, Prats, Rats and Busybodies' book and instead hurling the Books of Kicks and Cuffs at the young woman beside him. Neither did she take notice of the whoosh as the real 'Book of Kicks and Cuffs' hurled towards her head.

With a loud smack it hit her on the back of her head just as, with a malicious jab, she threw the Portal wide open. Book and woman both fell without resistance into the image.

The ill-mannered book was not done yet. With a vicious flutter of its pages, it hurled toward the unprepared Severus Snape. With a loud crack it smacked through his half-raised wand, breaking it to smithereens, and straight into his unprotected forehead, on which it cracked and moved no more.

The gathered mass and magic tucked into the little fairy-tale book couldn't be contained any longer. Shafts of lights radiated from it, setting the room around it on fire. The Broken 'Book of Kicks and Cuffs', bloody now from its impact with Severus Snape's forehead and Hermione's wand flew out of the closing Portal, repelled by its magic (being powerful Magical Objects themselves.) As Dark, powerful tomes caught fire, explosions started to occur. The room shook and then blew apart.

The Book of Fairy-Tales, still open to the title page of Beauty and the Beast, hurled out the blown door and landed in the yard of a nearby house.

Of Spinner's End, nothing remained but char and ashes. When Harry, along with the Aurors came on the scene, all they found were traces of the Death Eater murderer's blood and pieces of Hermione Granger's broken wand. Harry was grief-stricken an inconsolable. Why wasn't he there? Why? Now his friend was dead. Snape's death wasn't worth her life.
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Lost in the Tale