The Burning Pen

In An Alternate Universe Someplace
by Ruth Solomon aka Ms_Figg

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 32

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 32 ~ A Fortuitous Occasion (But Not for Flamel)

Severus tore the daisy roots by hand into pieces. This wasn’t the easiest method of rendering them potions-worthy, but it allowed the root’s juices to blend with the other ingredients and helped keep the mixture acid green when rat spleen and leech juice were added. It allowed a window. He also squeezed the leech directly over the cauldron rather than squished it, letting the essence slowly drip into the boiling mixture. Lastly he added the rat spleen, then covered the cauldron to let it simmer for several hours.

He was brewing Shrinking Solution, a notoriously difficult potion to make. Brewed properly, it made things shrink in size as well as reversed the aging process. Neville had some administered to his toad Trevor in potions class, Hermione hoping it would poison the boy’s familiar, but it didn’t. Trevor turned into a tadpole just as he was supposed to do.

Neville lucked out on that one.

Severus cleaned up his workspace and returned to Hermione’s quarters. He found the witch sitting quietly in front of the fireplace, a bottle of Ogden’s Firewhiskey set beside her, and a glass of the strong amber liquor in her hand. Severus blinked and walked over to her, looking down at the witch.

Hermione’s eyes were slightly blood-shot as she looked up at him with an irritated expression.

”Yes? What is it?” she snapped, “Can’t you see I’m ‘contemplating?’”

”It looks like you’re getting smashed to me,” Severus said, sitting down in the armchair next to her.

”Same thing,” Hermione said thickly, “now what do you want?”

Severus blinked at her, then said, “Well, I was wondering . . .”

”This better not be about shagging me,” Hermione growled at him, her eyes narrowing as she slipped her hand into her pocket to grab her wand. She wouldn’t miss him this time.

”No, not this time,” Severus said, hiding his smirk. “I was wondering about my brewing. You don’t observe me. How do you know if I’m doing it according to my own methods?”

”Of course I’m observing you, you idiot,” Hermione snarled, pulling a mirror out of her pocket. “This is a Recording Mirror. Left over from Umbrage’s reign of terror. She had Filch install a magical recording mirror in my lab so she could ‘observe’ me working. I guess the old bird thought I might poison her. She wasn’t too far off the mark, but . . .”

Hermione chuckled, “You took care of her quite nicely, taking her out to centaur territory.”

Severus grinned.

”I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I had to tell her something to keep her from Crucioing Harry,” he said.

”Ah, it’s the small lies that count,” Hermione said sagely, downing her Firewhiskey. She sat the glass down, put the mirror back in her pocket and let her brown eyes drift over the Gryffindor.

”I have a couple of questions for you now,” she said, sitting forward in her chair.

”All right,” Severus said.

This was the first time they engaged in any type of real conversation, other than when Hermione was at Spinners End. That one hadn’t been too nice. Maybe this one would be better.

”Now that I am not required to bed you when you complete your brewing, have you an alternative plan?” she asked the wizard.

Severus’ brow furrowed.

”Alternative plan?” he responded.

”Another witch lined up, you dunderhead,” Hermione hissed at him.

”No!” Severus said indignantly.

Hermione snorted and poured herself another Firewhiskey.

”Well, I suggest you line one up then,” she said, bringing the glass to her lips.

“I don’t need to line one up. I intend to keep pursuing you,” he said softly. “I’ve already had you once . . . and I believe that you liked being with me deep down inside. I just have to be patient and show you I’m worthy. I don’t want to be with anyone other than you, professor. I’m ruined for other witches.”

“Until you leave Hogwarts,” she said disdainfully.

”What?” Severus said.

”I heard your little conversation with Miss Lovegood, Severus. How you plan to get together with her after you graduate,” Hermione said a bit accusingly.

Severus looked a bit taken aback.

”Well, if you would continue with me, I wouldn’t. Not even after graduation. I just didn’t think you’d want . . . want a sustained relationship with me. I’d . . . I’d stay with you forever, professor. Even marry you,” Severus said passionately.

Hermione nearly dropped her glass of Firewhiskey.

”You have no idea what you’re talking about, Severus! I’m almost twenty years your senior,” she snapped at him. How stupid was he?

”So what? My dad’s twenty years older than my mum, and they are perfectly happy together,” he argued.

“Men age differently than women, Severus. By the time you’re my age, I’ll be a big, droopy mess. My breasts will hang, my bum will sag, my skin will loosen. I won’t be physically attractive,” she said to him.

”I don’t care about that. You’re more than your body anyway. You’re brilliant. Your mind attracts me just as much as your body does,” the boy said.

Hermione sighed.

”You’re saying that now, Severus. It’s just the impetuousness of youth running your mouth, not your brain. You will still be a young, virile wizard,” Hermione said.

”You won’t be old at sixty! You’re a witch. You can live two hundred years,” he said firmly.

”Yes, we live long, Severus, but you’ve seen the pictures of witches in the fairytale books. We might live a long time, but we still age and become crones. You know, the long nose, big ears . . . warts with hair sticking out of them. The nose and ears continue to grow. How would you like me then? My hair is already lank and stringy.”

Hermione clawed one hand and gave a perfect crone-witch cackle that made the hair on the back of Severus’ neck stand up.

“You’re talking about something far in the future. I’m talking about today. Living for today,” he said to the witch sincerely. “I love . . .”

”SHUT UP!” Hermione suddenly snarled. “You don’t know anything about love, boy! You think love is connected to your cock. That’s not love. That’s testosterone. Lust. The love of a warm wet place to stick your wick in. You don’t love me and don’t say you do again, do you hear me?”

Severus fell silent as Hermione guzzled down her Firewhiskey, letting out a loud rasp and looking at him a bit cross-eyed.

“Besides, what I’m saying is true. I’m too old to be anything to you other than a passing fancy. If I were to marry you, and I won’t . . . in the years to come you’d end up resenting me because I’d become old and unattractive . . .”

”That’s not true,” he declared.

”It is true. What you want will never happen, so get it in your head now,” she said, her voice slurring a bit.

Severus was about to continue arguing with her, when a knock sounded on the office door.

”Go get that,” Hermione said, “and if it’s for me, tell them I’m in ‘contemplation’ and to come back tomorrow.”

Severus stood up, walked over to the wall, opened it and stepped through. He opened the door to find Albus Dumbledore standing there, looking quite grave.

”Severus, I need you to come with me. Nicholas Flamel has died, and I am to collect several items of his, very important items as well as see to his details. It is tradition that I am accompanied by the Head Boy on these occasions,” the Headmaster said in a heavy voice.

”Yes sir,” Severus said, “just let me get my cloak.”

”Very well,” Albus said, stepping into the office as Severus zipped through the open wall. Albus stuck his head in and saw the top of Hermione’s head over the armchair before the fire.

”In contemplation again, Hermione?” he called to her with a grin.

He could smell the Firewhiskey.

”Yesh I am. Very contemplating,” she replied drunkenly.

”Enjoy your deep thoughts,” Albus said as Severus reappeared, tying on his black traveling cloak. “I am taking your charge for a few hours.”

”Good riddance. The boy is more annoying than Peeves,” she griped.

”Bye professor,” Severus called to her.

”OUT!” she snapped as the wall closed, the two wizards departing.

“Idiot. Imagine, offering to marry me. MARRY me. I don’t care how brilliant he is, Severus Snape is a bloody fool,” she muttered, standing up unsteadily and heading for her bedroom.

She dropped into the bed, rolled to her back and started to snore.

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Albus and Severus walked across the grounds.

”Headmaster, what are we going to collect?” he asked.

Albus looked at Severus, his blue eyes sober.

”His research, notes and so forth. As you know, he was the only wizard of our time to create a viable Philosopher’s Stone. We made an agreement that all of his research would be given to me to safeguard at Hogwarts upon his death, to keep the secret of the creation of the stone out of the wrong hands,” the Headmaster said. “You will return to Hogwarts with them and place them in my office. I will give you the password to enter. I will have to remain to see about Nicholas’ remains.”

”Yes sir,” Severus replied

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Together, Albus and Severus went through Flamel’s lab, the Headmaster lifting several powerful wards from a portion of the wall and pushing in a stone. A kind of drawer slid out, full of hand-written books and parchments.

”Gather them up, Severus, but be careful. They are very old and delicate,” Albus said, producing a soft bag. Severus carefully put the parchments into the bag.

”Now, return to Hogwarts and place them in the top right-hand drawer of my desk,” Albus said, “The password is Flibberty-Gibbets. I must go see about Mrs. Flamel.”

”Yes sir,” Severus said, departing with his precious goods.

Once outside he Apparated to Hogwarts and let himself inside the gates. As he walked across the grounds, he started to think about what he was carrying. The instructions on how to make a Philosopher’s Stone. The stone could transmute any lesser metal to gold, sharpen the senses so the Unseen could be Seen, and it slowed the aging process.

Severus’ steps faltered a bit as he thought about the properties of the Stone. The owner of such a stone could be rich and live a very long time.

He wondered what ingredients it took to make the stone. Well, he had the books, he could take a peek at them in Dumbledore’s office before he locked them away for good. The Headmaster hadn’t said anything about not looking at them.

Severus hurried up the stairs to the corridor that led to Albus’ office, gave the gargoyle the password, then took the spiral staircase to his office. Fawkes trilled a welcome as he let himself in.

”Hi Fawkes,” he said to the Phoenix, who bobbled his head in acknowledgement.

Severus then looked at all the portraits looking at him, pulled his wand and cast a Concealment spell around himself, so they couldn’t see what he was doing. Then he carefully pulled out the parchments and books, leafing through them until he found what he was looking for.

His face screwed up.

”Oh gods, THAT’S what’s used to make a Philosopher’s Stone? Gross,” he said, shaking his head.

Well, it was gross but doable. At least he didn’t have to use human blood or anything. The stone’s red color came from something else.

Using his wand, he duplicated all of Nicholas Flamel’s research, reduced it and put it in his pocket. Then he put everything back in the bag and put it in the desk drawer. It slammed shut, clicking and Severus felt powerful magic swirl around him. He removed the Concealment spell.

”What were you doing in there?” a portrait of a wizard with a great white mustache demanded.

”If I wanted you to know that, I wouldn’t have cast the spell,” Severus replied, heading for the office door.

“Scamp!” the portrait snapped as Severus exited the office.

Now he had a real project on his hands. He couldn’t wait to get started. But the stone was personalized, and the ingredients had to come from the person who would use the stone.

He returned to the dungeons and entered Hermione’s quarters, noting she wasn’t in the armchair. Carefully, he crept to her bedroom door and looked in. She was fully dressed, snoring in her bed. The castle could fall down around her and she wouldn’t move.

It was the perfect opportunity.

Severus entered her bedroom, pointed his wand at the witch and said, “Divesto,” removing her robes so she lay in her underwear. He carefully yanked the sheet out from under her and covered her with it, placing a pillow under her head. She let out a groan and turned on her side.

”Too much ‘contemplation’ Professor,” he said to her softly, affection in his eyes.

Then he walked into her bathroom and looked at the loo.

”Oh well,” he said to himself and cast a small spell on it. Hermione wouldn’t even notice.

The deed done, Severus left Hermione’s bedroom and entered his own, quickly removing the duplicated research from his pockets and placing it on his bed. Then he covered it up with his sheet and went to finish the brew.

He returned an hour later, stripped down and pulled the sheet back, shuffling through the parchments.

It was best to start at the beginning.

He began to read.

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A/N: Thanks for reading

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