From the Past
A HariPo fanfic
Note: The 1st of To the Future's companion stories is here! I'm borrowing J.K. Rowling's charries once more and giving them a delighted storyline to star in. So let's start a little before when To the Future begins, and with another special pairing. And REVIEW!!!
The First Tale
It was a study, but she couldn't get any studying done.
Instead, she was writing another essay so Ron didn't get in trouble for not doing the homework. She sighed. Was this all she could do for him? It was seventh year, and they were almost done with this last year at Hogwarts. She and Ron had confessed to each other back around his birthday, but dating didn't feel any different from how they usually were. Except for his kisses. An involuntary, pleasureful shiver skittered down her spine. If there was one thing Ron could do, it was kiss. Her toes curled at the thought, but her warm, girly affections attracted a big, black rain cloud.
"There is nothing happy about the three Unforgiveable Curses, Miss Granger," Severus Snape sneered, reading her words over her shoulder. She noted he was careful not to bump he mudblood arm. Hermione inwardly smirked; she would love to see his reaction if she poked him with her mudblood finger! But she snapped back to the present when he bent further over her and squinted. "Is that Weasley's name scrawled in the top corner?"
Crimson, Hermione hurriedly concealed Ron's name with her textbooks. Why, oh why, had that redheaded birdbrain written his name on the paper before giving it to her? And why hadn't she checked?!
Taking her actions as an answer, Snape straightened and smirked at her. "I didn't think it was your writing style. Know-It-Alls typically use bigger words. You use the biggest."
Hermione's ears perked. She had never thought her writing was that extraordinary; she only ever did the assignment. Maybe this was a way Snape was telling her that she truly was the genius witch of her age? "Thank you, professor."
"It wasn't a compliment." His onyx eyes met her fierce umber ones. "The next time you hand in an essay four hundred words over the limit, I will deduct points from Gryffindor."
Snape walked away, and Hermione found herself glaring at his back, the only way of showing him disrespect without getting in trouble. One day, she would meet his stupid expectations, and what would he have to sneer or smirk about then? She wanted to laugh aloud at her goal, but she had to wonder if she would still feel as driven to work hard when she graduated from Hogwarts.
Hermione put down her quill and cupped her cheek in her palm. Instinctively, her eyes wandered to the doorway, and Snape glowered at her. She turned away and picked up her quill again, rolling her eyes. There was no chance she would ever meet his expectations.
"Umn…" Hermione awoke dazedly and removed her arm from behind her head. Had she really fallen asleep on the couch? The brunette-blonde rubbed the sand from her eyes, and a book slid from her chest. Whoops. She picked the tome up and organized her other books and notes on the coffee table. Recalling her late night, she looked up and saw that the telly was off. Ah, she observed, Harry must've come home when I was out cold. Her lips formed a thin line. Work for her was usually like this.
A yowl to her left alerted her of Crookshanks' presence. Hermione smiled at her feline friend, who began purring. Crookshanks also burped up a purple thread.
"You little-!! You ate my favorite violet bell-sleeved top!!" The genius jumped up and glared at the cat. "You'll be kitty stew when we're through!!"
Crooks released a coy 'Mrow?' and dashed when Hermione lunged for him. She followed him with her eyes and chased him as he left through the house's back door. He wouldn't stop even as they reached another street, and Hermione was still hot on his tail (mt: bad pun, I know, forgive me).
Of all the infuriating things-!!! she thought, puffing away to keep up with the more nimble Crooks. First, that terrible memory I dreamed of, then Crooks ate my shirt, and now my cat's leading me on a damned obstacle course! And why did I have to remember that stupid moment anyway?! Snape's a grouchy old arse who's still moody and I'm the one who walked away from things with a boyfriend, a house, and a successful job. I- Hermione slowed, and Crookshanks waited for her on the other side of another road. She had lost too much, actually, a few months after graduation. That stupid Second Great War.
She stared at Crooks. In the Second Great War, she had lost Ron. How come she moved on, just like that? Tears brimmed over the edges of her eyelids, but she didn't cry. Things would've been good, but not under these circumstances. Ron should be the one living with her, not Harry.
Another incessant 'meow!', and Hermione admonished herself –well… It's not like she wished Harry dead, but she still wanted Ron. She watched while Crooks stood and displayed his heiny to her. She gasped. "Why, you mangy-!!" He ran off again, and she fled after him.
Street after street, road after road, and a few bridges later, Crookshanks sauntered down a battered gravel path. It wasn't a main street, but there were a few scattered houses, so Hermione continued her pursuit. But just when she thought Crooks gave up, the orange furball darted across the yard of the road's last house, and she tiptoed behind.
"Crookshanks!" she whispered, fearful that she might be caught trespassing. Cat, when I catch you, I am going to eat you with mashers!
She stopped. Hermione was almost behind the house now, and she heard someone –working? –outside. Curiosity won and she peeked over the hedges to see who it was. Her jaw fell so fast it was a miracle it didn't unhinge.
Standing there, in sunlight, was Snape. He had his hair loosely tied back and wore nothing but a pair of black, loose-fitting sleep pants. The bat wasn't well-built or anything, but he was in shape. Well in shape.
Okaaay…, she thought, suppressing the stupid hormones. Maybe if I back away quietly, he won't notice I'm here? Yeah, that sounds good. I'll just leave, go home, eat, and pretend I never saw anything. Her train of thought derailed. Ooh, food… I should've grabbed a jammy dodger before going after Crooks… Unfortunately, at the thought of food, Hermione's stomach growled. She didn't gasp, but she looked up to see if Snape had heard.
He met her eyes. He had heard her borborygmus.
Nice start to a companion story, eh? I got REALLY good and…delicious inspiration for chappies 1 & 2, so let's continue on and REVIEW!