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Meeting Of The Minds by Helga Von Nutwimple [Reviews - 26]

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Students filed in around her... laughing, chatting, rattling papers. Visitors from another planet, a carefree world she vaguely remembered, a world where her entire future didn't depend on getting a Weasley to stop being stubborn...

"You will spend the first moments finishing the Veritaserum antidote we began Monday. Those of you who have finished may read ahead to the next section on Fertility Potions - silently."

Snape dropped into his chair, and Hermione pulled out her Potions textbook. She'd already read the chapter, of course, but doing other homework in Snape's NEWT-level Potions class was like asking someone nicely to decapitate you.

Fertility potions... contraceptive potions... potions to conceive a boy, potions to conceive a girl, potions to conceive twins... Hermione's eyes scanned the text, not really reading, still thinking about Ron and Harry and the Binding and...

Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa.

Hermione ripped a sheet of parchment out of her backpack, her quill working furiously, her eyes flying between the book and her work, that delicious tickle of I-might-be-on-to-something growing into a blaze behind her eyes as the sounds of the other students' incantations faded in her ears.

Hermione's hand flew into the air. And wriggled.

Snape noticed, sighed heavily, and crooked a finger towards her. Hermione slid carefully out behind the stirring, chanting students, approaching Snape's desk.

"Professor," Hermione whispered, sliding the parchment in front of him. "Would you mind looking at this?"

Snape took the parchment wearily, holding it up as if it were a particularly slimy beetle.

"Your penmanship is atrocious, Miss Granger, you..."

Snape stiffened, his eyes widening, leaning forward in his chair and bringing the parchment closer to his face. Hermione felt a white-hot thrill run down her spine... for Snape to look like that, it might actually work...

"Where did you find this, Miss Granger?"

"Well... I made it up. I was reading the next chapter..."

"Ridiculous. Tell me where you found this."

"I'm telling you, Professor, I made it up."

"Rethink your lie, Miss Granger... some of these ingredients haven't even been covered in your book..."

"Well... yes. But they were covered in your book..."

Snape's eyes flashed. "My book."

"The one you wrote, sir. I read it first year, when I found out you were going to be my Potions professor."

"You read my book. Your first year."

"I didn't... I didn't understand it very well, then. So I've gone back and read it every summer, to see if I understood it more..."

The corner's of Snape's mouth twitched. "You mean to say you've read my book six times."

"Seven, sir... I started it the summer before Hogwarts. I bought it in Diagon Alley with the rest of my school supplies."

Snape touched his temples, as if there were a pain there. "Miss Granger... you horrid, brownnosing, irritating know-it-all..."

Hermione's stomach sank.

"Fifty points to Gryffindor."

Her breath caught. "It will work, then?"

"Yes. It will work. Oh, go sit down, your gloating is repugnant."

---

"Severus?"

Snape looked up at McGonagall, groaned, and went back to labeling bottles.

"Hem-hem," McGonagall had perfected her Umbridge impression, and her eyes were twinkling.

"Is it required of all Gryffindors to preen in such a revolting fashion?"

"Fifty points, Severus? What on earth did Miss Granger do this time?"

"She's found the closest thing to a loophole in that damnable Marriage Law that anyone has yet to come up with," Snape sneered. "From reading my book. Seven times. Reprehensible little suck-up."

"From reading your book?" McGonagall's dulcet tones held a near-crowing of delight. "Why Severus, it's a wonder you didn't think of it first."

"I knew you were going to say that."

"Has she really found a loophole, Severus?"

"Something of one. She's invented a potion that will cause the drinker to conceive boy/girl twins the first time she... you know."

McGonagall let out a breath. "Breaking the Binding on the wedding night? That's... brilliant."

"Unfortunately, the Binding will hold until the children are delivered."

"But nine months, Severus. That's such an improvement... these women will have their freedom back, their lives back, their... free will and minds back, in less than a year!"

"Their freedom, their lives, their free will and two squalling, shrieking brats to contend with."

McGonagall's lips thinned. "Surely even you have to admit it's a brilliant idea."

"I gave the points to Gryffindor, didn't I?"

"Speaking of Miss Granger, Severus... Ron Weasley missed my class. Apparently, he's been throwing up since the start of last period?"

"Minerva, you know as well as I do that half my function in this school is to play 'bad cop' to Albus Dumbledore. I've struck fear in his heart, and now Albus will offer him biscuits and kind, fatherly advice."

"He will come around, won't he?"

"He'll come around."

---

"And then Neville said the funniest thing, Hermione, you won't believe it. He said 'Oh, Stinksap!'"

Dorcas Limbergh-Longbottom burst into peals of hysterical laughter for the fifteenth time since Herbology had begun, and Hermione felt a migraine coming on.

"Neville's just so wonderful, Hermione. I can't believe I never noticed it before. I mean, I think part of me always knew he was my soulmate... I was just so blind. How did I never notice how strong, and manly, and handsome he is? Just look at him, Hermione, over there, holding that plant. What a lucky, lucky plant! I do wish Professor Sprout had let me partner with him..."

I do too, Dorcas. You don't know how much. Did I ever think you were quiet?

"The thing about Neville that no one understands, Hermione -- well, no one except me, of course -- is that he's got such a... quiet bravery about him. And he's really quite dashing. And so charming. I can't believe I never saw it -- Merlin, to think of all the years I wasted not being by his side..."

"Dorcas," Hermione growled.

"Oh, Hermione, I can't wait until you know the joys of marriage..."

"Dorcas! You're making me contemplate suicide!"

Hermione stiffened in horror as Dorcas suddenly flung her arms around her. "Oh Hermione, Hermione darling, I know you must have secretly been in love with Neville... I'm sure all you Gryffindors have it hard, having to be around him every day, wanting him and not being able to have him... it must be torture for you..."

Hermione could only blink.

"I'm sure you'll find some way to go on, Hermione. You must simply be brave."

Dorcas gave Hermione's head a condescending pat and went back to gazing longingly at Neville.

---

Oh, Ron! Your infantile scatological humor is soooooooo funny! Oh, Ron, it gives me chills when you chew with your mouth open! Oh Ron, take me, here in the middle of Transfiguration, I want to lick the freckles off your body!

Hermione's mood had gone from black, to really black, to some other color so black it could not be perceived by the human eye.

Oh, Ron! The way you hold that Quaffle! Oh, Ron! Let's have seventeen billion babies! We'll name them all after you, because I loooooooove you so much! Ron Junior, Ron The Third, Ron The Seventeen Billionth! Fill me with the hot seed of Weasley, you irresistable manhunk!

Hermione kicked a rock with her shoe, sending it sailing off.

Oh, Ron! I can't bear to be apart from you for a moment! Let me hold your hand while you go to the lavatory, please!

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for confusing your Professor and a football goal, Miss Granger."

Hermione's head shot up, her eyes flashing. "Been waiting to take those off all day, haven't you? Piss off, Snape."

Shock flared over Snape's face, but he composed himself quickly. "Fifty points for impertinence."

Red flashed behind Hermione's eyes even as panic welled within her, The Old Hermione screaming in horror.

You just insulted a teacher you just insulted a teacher oh my god oh my god oh my god...

Unfortunately for Old Hermione, New Pissed Off Hermione was running the mouth. "Well, I wouldn't want to rob you of your favorite activity... so how about... rot in hell?"

"Fifty more points," Snape purred, lips twitching.

He's trying not to laugh. That nasty, creepy bastard is laughing at me.

Hermione crossed her arms, dropping her voice into her best impression of Snape's own. "You're laboring under the delusion that this isn't what I want, Snape. I rather think you need to take off more points. I'd love to watch my house lose the House Cup. Think of all the sobbing Weasleys."

Snape smiled like a panther. "Who said I was taking them off, Miss Granger? I was putting them on."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "You live to be abhorrent, don't you?"

"You should watch yourself, Miss Granger. If you continue to be this surly and unpleasant, you just might convince me that you're my soulmate." Snape grinned his most unpleasant grin. "I shall be forced to battle Weasley for your hand."

Snape watched her, letting his words soak in. "Detention. My office. Now."

---

New Pissed-Off Hermione was rapidly losing her nerve as Snape slammed and locked both doors with a wave of his wand, glowering at her.

Old Hermione was no help; she hadn't stopped shrieking in horror the whole walk down here.

"Sit down, Miss Granger," Snape snapped. "Have a biscuit."

Hermione dropped into a chair, gaping.

"They're not poisonous." Snape prodded the tin in her direction.

"Am I going to... scrub cauldrons or..."

"No, you're going to eat a biscuit, and we are going to have a chat."

Hermione looked at the tin suspiciously. "What... what kind are they?"

"Spiderwebs and beetle brains, yum-yum, my favorite," Snape drawled. "You Gryffindors are all alike. They're dark chocolate raspberry, eat one."

Hermione tried to keep her hand from trembling as she took a biscuit, nibbling on the edge tentatively.

"Miss Granger, you were in a... rather uncharacteristic mood this afternoon. Explain yourself."

"Why are you being nice to me?"

"Miss Granger, when I'm being nice, you'll know it. This isn't it. Now explain yourself."

"I was partnered with Dorcas Longbottom in Herbology... and I nearly slapped her."

It might have been her imagination, but Snape's eyes seemed to dance. "And why would you do such a thing?"

"Because she was... crammed up Neville's ass!"

"An colorful metaphor. Explain."

"She wouldn't shut it. 'Oh Neville's so handsome, Neville's so wonderful, Neville's so smart'... it was revolting."

"For once we are in accord, Miss Granger. And you fear that you'll be reduced to the same state over Mr. Weasley?"

"Well... yes. Basically."

"Fortunately for you, Miss Granger, you're not the only one who makes up Potions." Snape slid a glass bottle across the desk towards her.

"What is it?"

"Something of my own devising. And I think it goes without saying that if you tell anyone I've given it to you, I'll be forced to make you quite dead."

"This... keeps me from being Bound?"

"Unfortunately, no. It will take a bit of the edge off. Call it a first draft."

"Why... why would you do this?"

"You have a fine mind, Miss Granger. Waste repulses me. And a decade of being, to borrow your colorful phrase, crammed up Voldemort's ass, has left me with a... shall we say, certain dislike for servitude."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, for God's sakes, don't start snivelling," Snape groaned. "Take it tonight; you won't want to, once you're Bound. Take it alone, in your room. It will probably make you somewhat ill."

---

Somewhat ill? Somewhat ill?

Hermione let out a moan, clutched in the fetal position in the center of her bed. It felt like red-hot blades were stabbing her in the stomach; she'd lost count of the number of times she'd thrown up, the number of times she'd blacked out.

If this is 'somewhat ill', then Voldemort is 'a bit of a git'... Snape, you horrid ass...

Hermione cracked her eyelids, groaning at the sight of dawn at the window. She'd been up all night, she had a Prefects meeting...

I'm going to kill him. No, I'm going to do worse than that, I'm going to make him drink this.

She couldn't even go to Madame Pomfrey, then she'd have to tell her how she got like this...

Maybe Snape was afraid Ron wouldn't come through and had decided to off her...

There was a loud pop, and Hermione let out a little groan.

"Oh Dobby, good, I was hoping my death would have witnesses..."

"Dobby is bringing you something, Miss Hermione."

A bottle, blissfully cool, was pressed into her hand. Hermione raised it to her lips; it tasted of oranges and strawberries, and she felt her stomach unwind and uncramp.

"Dobby..." she croaked, "Thank you. How'd you know I was sick?"

"Dobby has been checking on you, Miss Hermione."

Hermione blinked. "You've been checking on me? I didn't see you."

"Dobby was only here in bits and pieces, Miss Hermione. Dobby was mostly taking care of Mister Severus."

The first name took Hermione a moment to translate. "Waiting on Snape? That must have been horrid. I suppose he kicked you halfway across the dungeons for burning his toast?"

"Dobby does not burn toast, Miss Hermione." Dobby looked offended at the very thought. "And Mister Severus would not kick Dobby if he did."

"I wouldn't test that theory, Dobby," Hermione laughed weakly.

"Mister Severus has always been very nice to Dobby."

"Professor Snape? Nice? You're not with the Malfoys any more, Dobby. You don't have to beat yourself with a candlestick if you tell the truth about someone."

"Dobby is telling the truth, Miss Hermione. Mister Severus has always been very kind to Dobby, even when Dobby lived with the Malfoys. Gave Dobby a hat, Mister Severus did! Would Miss Hermione like to see?"

"Maybe later, Dobby, I'm..."

"Had me send you this potion, Mister Severus did."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Snape had a cure all this time and he just now sent it up?"

Dobby lowered his voice. "Got called out last night, Mister Severus did. Dobby did not get to tell Mister Severus how ill Miss Hermione was until moments ago. Dobby nearly cried when Dobby saw him this morning, Miss Hermione."

"He was hurt?"

"Mister Severus is always hurt, Miss Hermione. This was worse."

And with a pop, Dobby was gone.

Hermione rolled onto her side with a little moan, her eyes widening as she saw what was outside the window.

Owls.

More owls.

Hundreds of owls.

---

"Ron, don't be a prat!" Ginny's voice echoed around the Common Room. "I'm mad too, but you can't let her marry Snape!"

Hermione paused on the staircase. This wasn't a conversation she wanted to walk into on a good day... let alone one she'd spent not sleeping, puking, passing out, and then getting nearly smothered in an avalanche of Marriage Bids.

"Why not?" Ron said. "Just think of the children! They'll have his nose, her teeth, and great big greasy poofy hair! They'll be the ugliest little beasts that ever took points off Gryffindor."

Hermione felt tears spring to her eyes, one hand flying unconsciously to cover her teeth. There was nothing wrong with them anymore!

Was there?

"Ron, you're not being fair. Look, at least talk to Harry, get his side of the story..."

"Oh, and I suppose he's given it to you? And I suppose you just rolled over and forgave him? I forgot, The Great Harry Potter can do no wrong!"

"This isn't about that and you know it!"

Hermione turned on her heel, heading back up to her bedroom... then took a deep breath, turned around, and marched down the stairs.

If she could tell Professor Snape to sod off, she could bloody well handle some Weasleys.

"Good morning," she said crisply, watching both Weasleys flush for different reasons.

"G-good morning, Hermione," Ginny said tentatively. "Uh... how are you?"

"Oh, you know," Hermione replied. "Poofy. It's just so bloody hard to walk without tripping over my teeth. But, on the plus side, I get to shag Snape in few days, so..."

Exeunt and slam!

Hermione hefted her backpack a little higher, completely unable to wipe the smirk off her face.

You realize that was probably the utterly wrong way to handle that, right?

Hermione emphatically told her inner voice to shut the hell up.

---

"Did Dobby say how badly he was hurt?"

"No specifics. He just said worse than usual. I don't even know if we're having class this afternoon. How about this one, Harry?"

Harry shook his head at the parchment she held up. "Death Eater."

"Do you have them all memorized?"

"You have your things you study, I have mine." Harry opened another parchment and winced. "This one's included a photo." He tossed it onto the reject pile on the floor.

"Wait, Harry, let me see... what does he look like?"

"Wasn't a photo of his face, Hermione."

"Oh."

"Exactly." Harry dug into the pile again, broke another seal. "I hope it's not as bad as last summer."

"Hope what isn't as bad as last summer?" Hermione plucked another scroll off the pile at the center of the bed.

"Snape. Last summer, while you were at your parents, he Flooed into Grimmauld Place about half-dead."

"What are they doing to him?"

"Oh, I can guess," Harry replied darkly, tossing another parchment onto the reject pile.

"Why are there so many of these?" Hermione sighed, taking another one off the pile.

Harry looked up, a little grin creasing his face. "You honestly don't know how pretty you are, do you?"

"Ron certainly doesn't think so." Hermione cracked another scroll.

"Y'know... I rather think this situation indicates otherwise."

Hermione filled him in on the conversation she'd heard that morning.

"Hermione... he's just hurt. He didn't mean any of that..."

"Do other people think that? That my teeth are huge, and my hair is... poofy?"

"Well, your teeth aren't huge anymore."

"And my hair?" Hermione asked archly.

"Is kinda poofy. Why don't you just..."

"Just... what?"

"Criniscuro," Harry said, flicking his wand at her.

Hermione's scalp tingled, and she seized a piece of her hair, holding it before her eyes...

Her shiny, curly, totally non-poofy hair.

"Harry Potter. Do you want to explain to me why you know hairdressing charms?"

"I heard Lavender Brown do it once. I thought it might make my hair lie flat."

"Did it?"

"Not... exactly..."

"Harry... is this why you wore that ridiculous hat last March?"

"Yeah." Harry tossed another scroll on the reject pile.

"Honestly, Harry, are you even reading them before you reject them?"

"I'm reading them."

"I haven't got much time left, Harry. If Ron doesn't bid... I've got to find someone else."

"Hermione..."

"Oh, don't take that tone, I know that tone, that's your 'you're not going to like this, but' tone..."

"You're not going to like this, but..."

"Not. Snape."

Harry merely gave his most maddeningly know-it-all look... the one he'd picked up from her.

"Harry, I can't believe you of all people... he's picked on you more than anyone..."

"I know. But he's right, there is a war on. And if that Potion works the way you think it will... Hermione, wouldn't you be better off with someone who's as eager to get out of the marriage as you are, who hates this law as much as you do, who'll let you off the hook as soon as possible, who wouldn't interfere with you afterwards?"

"Harry. This is Professor Snape we're talking about."

"And he's a cruel bastard and I don't deny that for one moment. I don't really like this idea any better than you do, or Ron does. But he's older, more powerful, and could protect you. From what you told me, he doesn't want to shag you any more than you want to get shagged; that means you'd only have to do it once, unlike..."

Harry gestured to the mounds of scrolls in the reject pile.

"Unlike what these others want to do to you. Do you remember what you said to me, that night... well, the night that we..."

Harry's face flamed.

"I said a lot of things that night, Harry," Hermione said gently.

"I was just thinking of one. What you said, talking about being Bound to Ron, about how his dreams would become your dreams... how you'd become 'practically perverted over Quidditch'..."

Harry broke another seal, not quite meeting Hermione's eyes. "I just thought you'd enjoy being perverted for reading and study and Potions rather more, that's all... since you already are. You'd have the babies right after your NEWTs, wouldn't you? Think about how much you'd learn in the meantime, Bound to the greatest Potions Master of the age..."

"You are being very Slytherin," Hermione announced, eyes narrowed. "Very."

Harry shrugged. "Was almost sorted in, you know."

"Harry, I'd be raising baby Snapes. They'd take points off every time I made them go to bed."

"I'm not allowed to laugh at that, am I?"

"No." Hermione cracked another scroll. "Well, I suppose you can chuckle. Once."

"You're very generous. I suppose you realize... as his House-Head's wife, Draco Malfoy would be required to kiss your ass completely?"

"Your necktie's turning green, Potter."

"Actually... you know who I sound like."

Hermione chucked another scroll on the reject pile. "And who might that be?"

"You. Or what you'd be telling me to do, were I in your shoes."

"And if you were me? Would you get buggered by Snape for the cause?"

"I'll have nightmares for weeks because you said that."

"Exactly."

An owl flew in through the window, depositing a note in Hermione's lap.

"Who's that from?"

Hermione turned it over. "Professor Snape."

"Oh? What's he want?"

"He fancies you and wants to bugger you for the cause."

Harry threw a pillow at her head.

"He wants me to Monitor for him in class today."

"I'd believe the buggering bit first."

"You would. I've got to go then, I have to get ingredients out."

She slid off the bed, grabbing her backpack.

"Hermione..."

"Yes?"

"You know this is all theoretical, right? Ron will come around."

"Sure, Harry." Hermione pulled her backpack on, smiling at him. "Sure."

But she wasn't sure at all.


Meeting Of The Minds by Helga Von Nutwimple [Reviews - 26]

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