82Week Four: Foodie Challenge
Create Fanwork about your favorite character/ship enjoying seasonal food. It can be from any holiday, and it doesn't have to be from a holiday.
Title: Misunderstandings
Author: CorvusDraconis
Rating: M for safety
Warnings: violence, gore, subjugation
Prompt it contains:
Summary: SSHG, Severus Snape saw something that made him closed off and bitter.
Link:
Your team: Vampires
Beta Love: Super Sneaky Ninja Spy Dutchgirl01, Late to the party Dragon and the Pumpkin Seed, Missing in Action Commander Shepard
Misunderstandings
Love will draw an elephant through a key-hole.
Samuel Richardson
There was food, food, and even more glorious food spread out all over the tables at the Ministry Hallowe'en Party, but Severus was not paying it any attention. Even the floating "haunted" ghost pies didn't rate a second glance. The pastry ghosts on the pies made faces at him, and the candied carrots scowled to match his expression almost perfectly.
There was a steaming punch bowl with eyeballs floating inside. lemon ginger cocktails, leek and potato pies, coffee-rubbed prime rib roasts with garlic gorgonzola butter, citrus upside-down gingerbread cakes with vanilla mascarpone cream, blackberry-lavender white chocolate scones, smoking blackberry sage margaritas, "black magic" top sirloin with purple cauliflower puree and blood orange sauce, purple lilac and strawberry scones—
The list of delicacies went on and on.
Severus, however, was not the slightest bit interested. Not even a little. His scowl practically pulled down his entire face, and people were avoiding his area like it was both the plague and insta-death, as if malevolent auras alone could kill.
He stared across the room where his black eyes focused on a certain bushy-haired witch talking to a handsome European from Luxembourg. He had a heavy accent despite his perfect English, the sign of a man whose first language was not the Queen's. The man was much taller than her, with a gentlemanly air and perfect, immaculate robes. Perfect hair, chiselled face—he looked very much a businessman, someone that Sanguini would schmooze with and think nothing of it.
The more he watched, the darker his mood became, even though his mind tried to point out that he hadn't exactly made it plain that he wanted her.
Why should he have to, part of him protested. He did so many things for her. Helped her. TOLERATED her flitting about in his personal space. Surely that would have been a clue—
Wouldn't it?
He'd helped her parents.
Gotten that obnoxious idiot from the Ministry to leave her alone.
Gotten Percy to leave her well alone, too. The pompous wanker.
He'd even turned Potter's red-headed barnacle into said animal and suctioned him to a Greenland fin whale on its way to the arctic after the Weasley tosser had the unmitigated gall to publicly humiliate Granger at her own mastery graduation by shouting that she was a Muggle harlot and a cocktease as well as a frigid ice princess who wouldn't recognise a good cock if it crowed right in front of her.
All for turning down his proposal and saying she wasn't in love with him, of course.
Then Rita fucking Skeeter had gotten ahold of it—
She was always better at such social scenes than he ever was, but being around so much frivolous humanity never failed to make his teeth itch.
Literally.
Very literally.
He ran the tip of his tongue across the point of one of his fangs and scowled even harder.
"You should just tell her, you know," a familiar voice said, causing Severus to stiffen.
Harry Potter pushed his trademark glasses up his nose and sighed. "Get it all out. So she doesn't have to guess."
Severus tightened his jaw, willing his fangs to recede, which they did oh-so-reluctantly. "Whatever do you mean, Potter?"
"Actions are great and all, but if being married to a drama queen means anything for experience, trust me when I tell you that she can see what you're putting down, but she doesn't want to read anything into it because you're a very difficult one to read." Harry tilted his head, nodding his head up with a jerk at one of the security Aurors. They passed signs back and forth to do a patrol of the guests. Things rarely happened, but every so often there would be a drunk Percy in the punchline or some other such drama.
"Marrying Draco has given you wisdom, Potter?" Severus asked.
Harry shrugged. "Being partnered with him on stake-outs for ten years probably did that, but yes. Being married to him has taught me—things. Things I should have known long ago but were too stubborn to see it. People like 'ermione. She needs something tangible or something concrete. Something spelled out. Otherwise her mind is actively analysing it until she comes up with something entirely wrong but completely logical—like you hate her because you always scowl at her like you are now."
Severus startled.
"If all she sees when she looks over to you at functions is you seemingly ready to murder anyone and anything, that's going to tell her a lot. Just not what you want her to think," Harry said. "That bloke over there is very married, by the way," he added, gesturing with his cocktail glass. "His wife and 'ermione have been good friends ever since they met while studying for their masteries. Ginny was so bloody jealous that she stopped talking to 'ermione altogether. I guess she's always wanted to hang about with the rich and famous. Look—I know you don't give a rat's arse about what I think, but for the record, I think she really fancies you. Just a hint though, if you keep scowling like that and not giving her a reason why, she's going to assume it's because of her."
Severus' jaw tightened.
"Listen or not, I've said my piece," Harry said. "I want to see her happy, yeah? Even if it's with my super grumpy old Potions professor who'd rather see me get stuffed than stand near him."
"Time to go, love," Draco said with a smirk, pulling Harry by the arm. "Uncle Severus looks about ready to explode all over the open bar."
Severus slowly counted backwards from ten in Babylonian.
When he opened his eyes, Hermione was there with the aristocratic gentleman. "Severus, this is Alexander. He's the owner of Castle Industries in Luxembourg. His wife Sophie and I studied together under Master Alexi."
"I studied music," a curly-haired brunette said with a smile as she and Hermione laughed together. "She studied the fine art of assassination. I'm not sure which of us had the better education."
"I do not viola, so—" Hermione said with a grin. "And the harpsichord and I are doomed. Sophie, this is my friend Severus. He helped my parents with a memory charm. He also tolerates me galavanting around his laboratory, reading his library, and falling asleep on his settee."
"It must be love," Alexander said with a quirk of his lips. "What man is not in love that tolerates such things?"
"Alexander, are you accusing me of traipsing through your laboratory, reading your library, and falling asleep on your settee?" Sophie huffed.
"That and so much more, my darling," he said with a soft golden glow in his eyes. "I would have it no other way." There was a tiny flash of fang in his smile.
"Ooo! Why can I never stay mad at you?" Sophie accused, hands on hips.
The vampire smiled disarmingly. "I always provide the finest of meals, do I not?"
Sophie flushed. She gave Hermione a rather desperate look.
"Did you find what I needed, Alexander?" Hermione asked, running distraction for Sophie.
Alexander's eyes flashed golden, but he seemed to realise he had business other than ravishing his wife—in public. "I did. Though, you may find there is an extra."
Hermione chuckled. "I appreciate it. My last assignments were incredibly taxing. So little time to get away."
He pulled a box from under his cloak and handed it to her. "May they serve you well."
Hermione passed him a small box in return. "I managed to find your favourite. The giant rattle bread seeds from the high Magyars secret gardens."
Alexander's eyes widened slightly. "My dear, I will owe you so much more than what is in that box for this."
"You owe me nothing," Hermione assured him.
Alexander took her hand in his and kissed the air above her knuckles. "Please excuse us, I think my wife and I shall go put these to good use."
Sophie squeaked as her husband pulled her close with a smug smile.
"We hope to see you again—Hermione," Alexander said. "A pleasure, Severus." His eyes flicked from Hermione to Severus as he gave a gallant bow, took his wife on his arm, and walked out of the main gathering.
"What did you give him?" Severus asked.
"Magyar poppy seeds, from a rare magical cultivar. The seeds are bigger and the flavour is supposedly to die for," Hermione said. "The advantage to having a flying Animagus form."
Severus blinked. He bit his inner cheek as he tried to figure out if he should follow Potter's advice and risk making an arse of himself or just bite his tongue and say nothing.
"Look," Hermione said, cutting him off. "I know you've been annoyed with me for the past few months, and I wish I could say it won't happen again, but we both know that's highly unlikely." She thrust the box into his hands. "Hopefully this will say what I can't. If you send it back to me, I'll know what your answer is."
She leaned into him. "Sometimes, I just wish you'd simply read my mind. It'd be so much easier."
"Through the formidable shields of an assassin?" Severus asked dryly.
"That's how I'd know you really wanted to know," Hermione said with a lip twitch.
With a soft kiss on the cheek that made his fangs descend, she was gone.
"Bloody assassins," Severus whispered.
The box sat on his desk for a solid week.
And then another.
He was—too afraid to open it.
He wanted to know, but he also didn't.
He tended his apothecary furiously, brewing things until he had to sleep, if anything to get his mind to finally shut up.
He was just closing up when Hermione blew past him through the front door.
"Are you a sadist?"
"Pardon?"
She stared at him, poking his back. "So it's no then?"
"I have no earthly idea what you're talking about."
"The BOX, Severus!" Hermione cried.
"I—haven't opened it yet."
Hermione stared at him. "You really do hate me, don't you? This is just one more nail in the coffin of my bloody wonderful love life."
"W—what?"
Her eyes widened. "Oh my gods—where is the box?!"
He stared at her.
"Where is the BOX?!"
"O-on my desk! In the bac—HEY!"
Hermione blew by him and disappeared behind the curtain.
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and followed after her.
When he came into his office, he saw Hermione sitting on the floor with a large ham hock and two clearly famished Lethifolds chewing on it with sad squeaking noises.
"I'm so sorry!" Hermione lamented. "I thought he'd surely open the box right away!"
The Lethifolds ground the ham down to nothing and began to lick her hands to get every last particle of food off her skin.
The larger Lethifold oozed up her arm, exploring her, and then ZIPclung to her back like a cape. The other tried to follow suit, but the Lethifold on her back rose up and swatted the other away with a hiss and growl.
Hermione slumped, the second Lethifold pouting in her lap. She pet it like a cloak-shaped carnivorous human-eating cat, cuddling it as if to apologise.
She stood slowly, cuddling the second Lethifold as she walked by him. "I guess that answered my question," she said solemnly. She continued by him and disappeared out the door.
"Her—wait!" Severus called.
She paused, not even looking back.
"You got me a Lethifold?"
She turned and looked him in the eye, all pretence of emotion gone. "Yes. I couldn't get one myself. I didn't know the place since that is a male's typical duty. So I had my best friend ask her husband to find one for me, so I could give it to you and have you understand what I wanted from you. A lifetime. With you. But you couldn't even open the damn box. That answers me well enough, don't you think?"
"Hermio—"
"No," Hermione said firmly. "I would have given so much for you to just say something to me. Give me some sign that you were interested in me beyond just being that friend who saved my parents and tolerated my bullshite. But, I don't want your words anymore. So, I'm going to accept that assignment in Ittoqqortoormiit and learn how to speak whale while I wait for a Dark Wizard to show up and try to murder me. I can handle that, but I don't even want to look at you and see what I cannot have. Goodbye, Severus."
Severus lurched forward, but his hands met nothing but air as the crack of her Disapparation carried her away.
As his hands twisted into claws, a feeling of agony burned throughout his body.
Plip.
Plipp.
Pliip.
Crimson droplets stained his floor.
RAAAAAAGHHH!
Severus screamed, his fists clenching as he sank to the floor, his head bashing against the floorboards.
The End.
Heh. Heh. Heh.
A/N: What do you mean you want this to continue? What if there wasn't an ending?! What if Severus is just well and truly FUCKED?! WHAT IF THERE IS NO HAPPY ENDING?!
The path to Ittoqqortoormiit had him dodging hungry polar bears (who would have been mighty disappointed in his lean pickings), muskoxen, and glaciers.
It had taken a lot of grovelling, a crate of mangos, and a case of liquid luck for her Unspeakables to get Amelia Bones to reveal where Hermione had gone exactly. "Ittoqqortoormiit" turned out to be a real place—but not a very big one. It had one pub that was open but one day a week. Muggles took helicopters there to the nearest (read: not so near) airport or boats if the weather was feeling magnanimous.
Like the hit witch she was, Hermione Granger had disappeared into the land of rainbow-painted houses cast on rocky ground or snow depending on the season. She'd taken another name and apparently disappeared into the glacier for all he knew.
As he expected, she hadn't wanted to be found by him or her prey, and he couldn't just ask around lest he tip off whoever it was that was being tracked—simply by asking.
So he put his best war spy cap on again, bought a house, connected it to the Floo Network, and Flooed "home" to Ittoqqortoormiit to do his own sort of blending in. And patroned the once a week pub, putting his people watching skills to work.
But he never saw her.
Never sensed her.
He expected he wouldn't—that sense he'd had of her for so long was blocked when the Lethifold bonded to her. That was what they were good at. Camouflage and protecting their bondmates from psychic or magical attacks. It was why they were the ideal gift for one's (hopefully) future mate.
Ultimately more practical than a wedding ring with the ability to eat one's enemies—
He learned how to use the dog teams, and he used subtle magic to pack more on the sleds that would normally fit, filling in his time when he wasn't brewing with living a different sort of life in the middle of frozen fjords, polar bears, seals, and a cold that would probably have bothered him much more had he been human.
"Here," the bartender said, pushing sealskin coats and boots his way. "If you're going to run sleds from here to the far camps, you should be wearing these in case your luck runs out."
Severus ran his hand over the thick, warm sealskin coat. "Thank you."
"What really brings you out here, Severus?" the bartender asked. She'd known him long enough from his weekly visits, to know he wasn't there to get drunk. She filled his cup with tonic water and grenadine. His usual.
"I was an idiot," he said, staring into his cup. "A coward, and I drove the woman I loved into the arms of destiny—far from me."
"So you come to Ittoqqortoormiit?" the bartender asked. "Must have been a great fumble. Not that we don't appreciate your almost magical way of bringing supplies to us over the glacier. The store appreciates it."
"I loved her, but I was silent when I should told her," Severus said. "I thought my actions were enough, but she needed words. And when I tried to use words, she didn't want them anymore."
"Tch," the bartender said. "Sounds like the man who lost his lead dog."
Severus raised an eyebrow.
"Old man has many dogs, but one is the lead dog, his favourite," the bartender explained. "He loves the dog like no other, but he treats it like all the others. Showing no favourites. One day there is a big storm. Glacier cracks and falls, and the dogs scattered in the night. All come back but the favourite. He mourns for a year, calling out for them when he thinks he might see them, but all think he's lost his mind with his dog. Polar bear most likely, most think. Or the glacier itself. He refuses to believe it."
"Then, one day, he finds the dog laying on the porch of a young girl who is brushing the dog and saying how pretty the dog is, giving the dog hugs and pats," the bartender continued. "He says to the girl 'that is my dog,' but the girl says, "the dog came to me. I feed him. I love him. He wants to be here."
"The man cries and says, 'I loved this dog like family'!"
"The girl replies, 'but did you ever tell him'?"
"'No,' the man replied, and the girl replied, 'so why should he believe you'?"
"The man grovelled in front of the dog, crying, promising to be a better friend, to not take for granted their hard work, and to tell them when things pleased him instead of assuming the dog would understand. He cried at the dog's feet, promising to do better for he was but a fallible human being. He felt the licks of his dog on his face, and when he looked up the girl and the house were gone. It was just this man and his dog. His team was nearby, the glacier as if it had never fallen."
"The man took his dog and hitched him to the front of his team, but this time, he placed his head to the dog's head and told him he loved him, and he appreciated his hard work. And so he did this every day. Every morning and every night. And he never lost again."
Severus stared into his drink and downed it. "Words were never a problem until her," he said.
The bartender refilled it. "Most worthwhile things are work and outside our comfortable places."
"I think Ittoqqortoormiit qualifies as far outside my comfortable anyplace," Severus said.
The bartender smiled. "Just tell her the truth. Late is better than not at all. Who knows, maybe the glaciers will hear you and give you a second chance like the old man and his dog."
Severus sipped his drink and nodded. "Have to find her first."
The door rattled and a man dressed in off-clothing walked in. He was not of the area, nor was he a regular, but he was already pissed and looking ready to swagger and fall as much as sit down. He was wearing tattered robes.
"Gimme some of that Muggle piss," the man said, slamming some coins on the bar surface.
The bartender looked at the coins. "We take Krones or plastic, but I wouldn't know what to do with these."
"You can shove em up your arse for all I care," the man said pulling out his wand. "Give me a drink before I do something you'll regret, wench."
"Of course," the bartender said, "what's your poison?"
"Something strong."
The bartender poured something dark into the shot glass, and the man took it and drank it down.
"Another."
The bartender poured another.
Severus tried to figure out a way to take the man out without making a scene, but options were slim in a place where everyone knew everyone and everyone knew everyone's business. People were already coming up behind him, and Severus tried to jerk his head to warn them off, but they didn't like anyone messing with their bartender—
"You need to leave," one said, rubbing his beard.
The Dark Wizard's hand tightened on his wand, and Severus knew from the feel of his energy that what was coming next was not going to end well for anyone.
Severus reached for the man's neck, transforming his hand so his grip would paralyse him, hoping that the people around him just though he had some strange kungfu powers or Vulcan neck pinch.
But just as he did, one of the Muggles tried to take the wizard by the shoulder, and the wizard started casting Unforgiveables.
Glass shattered, bottles broke, and then someone brought a gun. The wizard's wand went flying, sticking into the nose of a stuffed polar bear head.
"No fighting! NO FIGHTING IN HERE!" The bartender yelled.
The Muggles looked ready to do what they were told, but then the Dark Wizard smiled and pulled out a second wand.
If he hadn't known it was a wand, he'd of thought it was a gun too—
Blam!
The high caliber round meant for stopping bears tore through the Dark Wizard killing him instantly as people hit the floor. Severus rushed up to him, surreptitiously hiding the wand up his sleeve as he checked for a pulse.
"He's gone, get the police!" he cried.
But when he looked up, everyone was frozen in place—as if time had stopped. He heard a cough. And smelled—no.
He leapt over the bar to find Hermione with one hand over a hole in her chest as she held her wand tightly, a time stop spell emitting from her wand.
"Wipe their minds, close the door, flip the sign," Hermione said in between incantation. "Hurry."
Severus, torn between her and what he knew had to be done, called on his magic, reparo'ed the bar, and shoved all the people out of the bar with his magic, wiping their minds with an Obliviate, and closing and locking the door, turning off the lights, and flipping the sign to "closed."
He returned to Hermione's side where her hand dropped to the floor and her eyes closed.
"No, no nono! NO!" Severus said as he grimaced, his fangs extended as he smelled her blood. His hand touched her wound and the back—he cradled her, baring his teeth in pain. "No—no—I love you! I love you! Stay with me! Stay with me!"
Hermione's eyes locked with his, her lips half closed, blood oozing from her mouth. He put his mouth to her wound and took the blood, running his tongue over the site to try and heal it.
The frantic Lethifolds were trying to staunch her bleeding from the back, only now did he realise the sealskin coat she was wearing had been the Lethifolds all along. A small Lethifold the size of a napkin desperately tried to seal the wound on her chest by sticking to it, but Hermione's insides were obviously not so easily healed.
Her blood on his face, he stared at her with agonising torment. He drew her to him, taking one claw to draw across his neck and placed her mouth to it. "Drink, Hermione—please. Please drink. Please, I beg you. Don't leave me. Yell at me. Throw books at me. Sit in my chairs and change their position. Alphabetise my lab books! Just don't leave me. Don't leave me!"
His eyes bled, and he blinked closed, sobbing, rocking her body in his arms as his groan turned into a howl of despair—a howl echoed by the sled dogs of Ittoqqortoormiit.
Severus slumped, still holding Hermione to his neck as the unnatural stillness would not, could not be soothed.
"Severus."
He pulled his head up to see Hermione looking up at him, a tint of crimson seeping into her normal brown eyes. The glamour that had concealed her was fully gone. His blood lingered on her lips, and as she smiled weakly at him, the hint of fangs flashed behind her blood-stained lips.
"What does a witch have to do to get you to confess your feelings?" she whispered.
"Die in my arms," Severus replied, his voice broken.
"Extreme," she said weakly. "Can we have a less extreme life together from now on?"
"Please, I would prefer it," Severus said with a half-sob.
Severus tried to move the Babyfold from Hermione's chest, but the little beast hissed and growled at him, dutifully clinging to her chest as if to hold her insides in.
He tutted. "Am I to be made impotent by a tiny napkin?"
The Babyfold flipped its tiny red underbelly at him.
Hermione chuckled and she guided Severus to her neck. "Please, I need you."
Severus' fangs descended with immediate response even as he grimaced. "I almost lost you—are you sure you want me to drink from you so soon? Let me be clear. This is not a rejection."
Hermione put her hand on his cheek. "I feel the blood surging inside me—for you. I need you, before I burst."
"I love you," he rasped, his gums aching. He moved over her neck. "So much." He sank his fangs into his mate's neck as the thrum of their new bond strengthened.
Finally, as if to sign and seal their approval, one Lethifold left Hermione's back and attached to Severus'.
"Cozy," Amelia said as she sipped her tea by the fireplace. "I'll set up the paperwork so you can be stationed here."
"I appreciate it, boss," Hermione said as she watched the babyfolds fight over the lapspace of the Head Boss of You of the Department of Mysteries.
"You will make sure to see Manfred for a while to ensure your innards aren't mutating into something alien," Amelia said.
"Yes, ma'am," Hermione said with a smile.
"Not that we wouldn't be used to that sort of thing," Amelia said. "You don't plan on taking Muggle firearms to the chest again, do you?"
"No, ma'am," Hermione said. "Believe me, I was prepared for magic, but I was not prepared to be shot with a bear gun."
"Bears that common here?"
"More than we'd like, honestly," Hermione said. "Seals are important to both people and bears."
Amelia shrugged. "I'll stick with wrangling idiots of the magical nature," she said. "I've put in the paperwork for you to expand this house with an undetectable expansion charm, so you won't attract any curious eyes more than you already do living with a grumpy vampire."
Hermione laughed. "He's better now. Less cranky."
Amelia shook her head. "Well, congratulations on your mating. I'll make sure you Floo connection is secure so you can Floo to work at the DoM."
"Thanks," Hermione said.
There was a stir at the door as Severus came in, brushing the snow off that hadn't fallen off outside the door. As he closed the door, he used magic to clean off his clothing, and shucked off the sealskin jacket, pants, and boots before coming in.
"Madam Bones," Severus said with a slight bow of his head. He took Hermione into is arms and placed a kiss upon her neck and then her mouth.
Hermione smiled at him, handing him a hot tea. "Supplies all delivered to the store?"
Severus nodded. "They're convinced my dogs are all magical flying beasts akin to Father Christmas, but they think I'm pretty plain."
Hermione laughed. "The bath is ready for you. I know you like to soak after a run."
"Bless you," he said as he shuffled toward the back.
"He is less grumpy," Amelia said with amazement.
"He's learned to communicate in more than grunts and malevolent stares," Hermione said with a wink.
"Tired, not deaf, woman!" Severus called from the bathroom.
Hermione grinned as Amelia shook her head.
Within the cold, frigid winter of Ittoqqortoormiit, Hermione and Severus lay curled in nest of content and warm Lethifolds. With a little friendship, a little misunderstanding, a little drama and life-threatening mortality, and a desperate vampire willing to move to remote Greenland to find his runaway mate, the life of Severus and Hermione Snape seemed very good, indeed.
Walter and Barbara tucked around them as their clutter of sealskin emulating babyfolds squeaked and tussled for the best spot to cuddle in until Hermione's arm scooped them up and pulled them into her with a content sigh.
The babyfolds snuggled with her, letting off squeaks of happiness.
And they lived cosily ever after.
A/N: And so ends the Ominous October 2024 for real this time. It ends at midnight, and I'm going to bed. Hope you enjoyed the story!