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teddy_radiatorTitle: Take These Stars Down To The World
Rating: R
(Highlight to View) Warning(s): None in this chapter.
(Highlight to View) Prompt: Hermione creates a potion just for Severus, one which he doesn't believe he wants or needs (SS/HG or SS & HG).
Note: Special thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stgulik, not only for the delicious prompt, but for her Herculean effort to pull this together. Thank you for putting up with me.
This story is inspired by the film Chocolat, which in turn was based on the novel Chocolat by Joanne Harris. This fanfic is based on characters and situations created by J. K. Rowling, and owned by J. K. Rowling and various publishers, including but not limited to: Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended by the posting of this fanfic.
Summary: Severus' business, Potions Potentes, is not doing very well. In fact, he plans to shut his doors for good. Just when all seems lost, Hermione Granger arrives in town to open her own apothecary, bringing with her a very special brew. What exactly is she up to, and what exactly is this cure-all potion of hers? If there is one thing Severus knows more than most, it is that nothing is ever given without a price.
Take These Stars Down To the World Chapter Three
Chorus:
When Severus had awoken from St Mungo’s, alive and free, Minerva McGonagall had told him to think of it as his chance to begin anew. And he had tried, he had most certainly tried. But recreating oneself is never easy, even for the most confident. After careful consideration, Severus decided to take a chance and quietly reinject himself back into Wizarding life, not as a supporting character in someone else's story, but as the drab and insignificant lead of his own.
He was one of the best, if not the best, potioneer that England had to offer, and he thought that at least would be enough to be accepted back into the Wizarding world. He had worried he would become a pariah, but that would have required a vengeful energy Wizarding Britain no longer had. The long war had left the population tired and jaded. People no longer hated him; people no longer cared. Indifference was his greatest enemy.
Chapter Three: Potions Potentes
Severus stormed into his shop and slammed the door behind him. He paced angrily, trying to keep up with the turmoil of his emotions. Who did this self-important little upstart think she was, moving opposite him, trying to run him out of business with her New Age stylings and her trendy little potions?
His hand cramped queerly, and he realised he was clutching the small vial so tightly the edges were cutting into his palm. His thoughts were a jumble of maddening contradictions. Mostly he felt insulted, angry, cheated, and confused. He had been on the verge of knocking it on the head not five minutes before Granger showed up with her box of tricks. Was he really so warped as to be angry she had spoiled his moment of defeat? Really?
With a growl of rage, he flung the potion across the room. The moment it left his hand, his wand was out. "Arresto Momentum! Accio!"
The little bottle obediently flew back into his palm, and he smiled grimly as he sat down to analyze its contents.
Medicura Apothecaria
The next morning at precisely 9:00 am, Hermione propped opened the shop door and put the kettle on. She knew she would get a few curious stragglers on her first day, but she knew better than to expect any great ‘deluge’. It would be nice to start off at a more leisurely pace, and rev up as her popularity grew.
She glanced through the large display window to the shop across the street. The shutters were up, and the sign said Open, but it looked as dark and sombre as Peaky's had before she arrived. Not dirty, exactly. More like unwelcoming.
Around 10 o'clock, an elderly witch hobbled in, leaning heavily on her cane. "Good morning!" Hermione sang out cheerfully. "Welcome to Medicura Apothecaria!"
The witch barely acknowledged the greeting. Instead, she made her painful way over to the shelves, peering creakily up at the jars of ingredients.
"Oh, and if you don't see what you're looking for, please let me know. I'm still unpacking. Can I get you a cup of tea? It's on the house."
"I'll take two limbs of that Octopus Aloe over there," replied the old woman. Her voice was soft and surprisingly girlish.
"Of course. Have a seat while I get them for you."
Thankfully, it was early, and the Octopus Aloe was still sleepy. It fought like the devil when it was fully awake. Hermione managed to lop off two of its fattest tentacles, dodging a squirt of black ink in the process. "Here we are. Anything else?"
"Do you have dittany?"
"I do indeed."
"Apex grade?"
Hermione saluted her with her secateurs. "You certainly know your philters. Would you like it in liquid or powder form?"
"Liquid. A quarter gill."
Hermione measured out the dittany and placed it in one of her custom-made vials, a deep cobalt blue bottle with Medicura Apothecaria, etched in gold letters. She placed the items in a small blue bag, muttered, "Origamus!", and the bag snappily folded itself into a tidy parcel.
Hermione placed it on a tray with the tea, and added a couple of chocolate digestives on a plate. "Since you're my first customer, this calls for a celebration of sorts. I think I'll join you for a cuppa, if you don’t mind. How do you take your tea?"
The old witch hobbled over to the table, and eased herself into a chair with a pained sigh. Her countenance was oddly blurry and out of focus. "Milk and two sugars," she replied. Her breath smelt of harsh, raw liquor.
Now that she saw her customer up close, Hermione finally noticed the rather poorly-executed glamour. She placed the steaming cups on the table and sat down. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Hermione Gr-"
"Merlin's sake, Hermione, I know who you are." The woman's eyes met hers. There was something familiar about them. "I realise I'm no oil painting, but after six years of living with me, I thought something would ring a bell." She waved her hand irritably, and the glamour faded away like wisps of smoke.
Hermione gasped, "Lavender? Is that really you?"
With another wave, the glamour quickly slid back in place, but unsteadily, like a masque sitting askew on her face. "Oh, it's me all right," Lavender agreed, her voice bitter.
“Oh, Lav…” Lavender Brown had been the prettiest girl at Hogwarts. A little vain and a bit silly, no doubt, but she had been the very epitome of the English rose; large, cornflower-blue eyes, flawless skin, pink cheeks, and a very desirable figure. Her mouth was perfect, her oval face perfect, her shining wavy hair perfect… While Lavender had titivated and slaved for an hour every morning to achieve that natural, flawless effect, Hermione would stand beside her, brushing her teeth and pretending she did not feel like an old slag.
What had happened to Lavender was second-hand news to Hermione, mostly gleaned from Ginny Weasley's infrequent letters. As Hermione struggled to find the right words to say, Lavender pulled out a small flask and unabashedly poured a generous measure into her tea. The smell of cheap whisky wafted from the steaming mug, stinging Hermione’s nose. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, "Isn't it a little early?" but she stopped herself in time. Instead she whispered, "I'm so sorry, Lavender. Is there anything I can do?"
Lavender put a gloved hand on her arm. Even through the cloth, her hand was hard and cold, like a corpse. "You can put away your pity, Hermione,” she answered with an impatient sign. “And no, there's nothing you or anyone can do."
"I heard about the attack, but only afterward. Those first few days…"
"I know," said Lavender. She gave a twitchy little shrug. "We were the lucky ones, as the Daily Prophet says." Her voice carried none of the anger Hermione would have expected; just weary resignation. "I’m just one of the fortunate few who managed to survive the terrible battle, and live to tell the tale. Everyone’s always so quick to remind me just how lucky I am."
Hermione lowered her eyes. "Ginny told me what happened, Lav. I mean, erm, about … about Ron walking out on you after..."
"Oh, fuck's sake, Hermione!" Lavender flung off her hat and then clapped her hands twice, letting the glamour fall away completely. Hermione could not control her gasp of horror at the sight of Lavender's ravaged face. Where there had once been long, shining tresses, now sparse wisps of brittle grey hair clung to a scab-covered scalp. Her face was a shiny mask of acid-burn scars. There was an oozing sore on her forehead and another on her cheek. Her eyelids were tattered, and her once-lovely mouth was thin and colourless. Nerve damage had caused it to droop on one side.
"Ron didn't leave me," said Lavender. "I sent him away." She pointed to her own face. "Do you think I would allow him to burden himself with this for the rest of his days?" Wearily, she picked up her hat and restored her glamour once more. "What kind of life would we have had?"
Shocked, Hermione spluttered, "But Ron always thought you were─"
"Oh, he actually liked taking care of me, the dopy arse. And he would have stuck around, if I had let him. We would both have been miserable then. I wouldn't do that to him. He deserves better." She sniffed. "I couldn't do that to him after…after…" She sighed. "I think I should just pay for my purchases and go."
Hermione's face burned with embarrassment. "Of course. I'm sorry to have been so tactless." She pushed the items into Lavender's hands. "On the house."
She snorted, "Don't be daft. You won't have a house if you give all your stock away. I can pay─"
"I know you can." Hermione tried to smile. "But it's bad luck to charge your first customer."
"Says who, you silly cow?"
Hermione laughed. "Says the silly cow." Besides she thought, I'd say you've paid enough. She made a quick decision.
"Lavender," she said briskly, "I have something for you."
She fetched her samples case from the counter, and selected one of the blue vials. Pressing it into Lavender's hand, she said, "I'd like for you to give this a try. It's a potion I perfected."
The glamoured face shot her what might have been a suspicious look, but it was so smeary and indistinct it might have been curiosity instead. "What is it?"
"Well, it doesn't really have a name, but…"
"But what does it do?"
Hermione chewed her bottom lip. "It… it helps. That's all I can say. It helps," she finished lamely. "Oh, do try it, Lav! You know I know what I'm doing."
To her relief, Lavender laughed. It was a sharp, unwilling sound, raspy from disuse. "Well, you always did run rings around me in Potions. Alright, if you insist. I'll be your guinea pig."
"Good. Now be sure and come back and tell me how it worked."
Lavender rewarded her with another tarnished laugh. "And how, pray tell, will I know it works, when I don't even know what it does?"
Hermione felt her smile tighten her cheeks. "You'll know. I promise."
With some effort, Lavender hauled herself up, tucking her parcels into her pocket. "I meet with a group once a month at St Mungo's. We talk about what happened to us, and the leader says it’s supposed to help. Who knows?" She gave a little shrug. "Perhaps it does. Anyway, I'll tell them all to stop by, give you a little business."
"Thank you, Lavender. And please stop by yourself, anytime, even if it's just for tea."
As Lavender shuffled toward the door, she glanced across the street. "I meant to ask, how's His Nibs taking you being here?"
Hermione wrinkled her nose. "He wasn't exactly thrilled."
"Word is his business isn't great."
Hermione looked at his inhospitable shop. "It's too bad. He's the best there is." Impulsively, she added, "Look, while you're here, why don't you drop by his shop? I think he mentioned he was working on some new products,” she lied. “You never know what he might have that will help."
Lavender scoffed. "It's a little early in the game to be giving away your custom, isn't it?"
"That's what I'm here for," she whispered, as Lavender made her way out the door. Hermione watched as she approach Snape's shop, but to her disappointment, Lavender gave her head a stubborn shake and headed toward Diagon Alley instead.
The bell above the door rang out, and a middle-aged wizard walked in. He looked around timidly, his nose twitching like a rabbit’s, ready to bolt. He spotted Hermione, and actually jumped. "Oh, uh, h─hello," he stammered, blushing furiously.
Before he could dive for cover, Hermione put on her best smile and said, "Welcome to Medicura Apothecaria!"
Chapter Four
Rating: R
(Highlight to View) Warning(s): None in this chapter.
(Highlight to View) Prompt: Hermione creates a potion just for Severus, one which he doesn't believe he wants or needs (SS/HG or SS & HG).
Note: Special thanks to
stgulik, not only for the delicious prompt, but for her Herculean effort to pull this together. Thank you for putting up with me.This story is inspired by the film Chocolat, which in turn was based on the novel Chocolat by Joanne Harris. This fanfic is based on characters and situations created by J. K. Rowling, and owned by J. K. Rowling and various publishers, including but not limited to: Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended by the posting of this fanfic.
Summary: Severus' business, Potions Potentes, is not doing very well. In fact, he plans to shut his doors for good. Just when all seems lost, Hermione Granger arrives in town to open her own apothecary, bringing with her a very special brew. What exactly is she up to, and what exactly is this cure-all potion of hers? If there is one thing Severus knows more than most, it is that nothing is ever given without a price.
Take These Stars Down To the World Chapter Three
Chorus:
When Severus had awoken from St Mungo’s, alive and free, Minerva McGonagall had told him to think of it as his chance to begin anew. And he had tried, he had most certainly tried. But recreating oneself is never easy, even for the most confident. After careful consideration, Severus decided to take a chance and quietly reinject himself back into Wizarding life, not as a supporting character in someone else's story, but as the drab and insignificant lead of his own.
He was one of the best, if not the best, potioneer that England had to offer, and he thought that at least would be enough to be accepted back into the Wizarding world. He had worried he would become a pariah, but that would have required a vengeful energy Wizarding Britain no longer had. The long war had left the population tired and jaded. People no longer hated him; people no longer cared. Indifference was his greatest enemy.
Chapter Three: Potions Potentes
Severus stormed into his shop and slammed the door behind him. He paced angrily, trying to keep up with the turmoil of his emotions. Who did this self-important little upstart think she was, moving opposite him, trying to run him out of business with her New Age stylings and her trendy little potions?
His hand cramped queerly, and he realised he was clutching the small vial so tightly the edges were cutting into his palm. His thoughts were a jumble of maddening contradictions. Mostly he felt insulted, angry, cheated, and confused. He had been on the verge of knocking it on the head not five minutes before Granger showed up with her box of tricks. Was he really so warped as to be angry she had spoiled his moment of defeat? Really?
With a growl of rage, he flung the potion across the room. The moment it left his hand, his wand was out. "Arresto Momentum! Accio!"
The little bottle obediently flew back into his palm, and he smiled grimly as he sat down to analyze its contents.
Medicura Apothecaria
The next morning at precisely 9:00 am, Hermione propped opened the shop door and put the kettle on. She knew she would get a few curious stragglers on her first day, but she knew better than to expect any great ‘deluge’. It would be nice to start off at a more leisurely pace, and rev up as her popularity grew.
She glanced through the large display window to the shop across the street. The shutters were up, and the sign said Open, but it looked as dark and sombre as Peaky's had before she arrived. Not dirty, exactly. More like unwelcoming.
Around 10 o'clock, an elderly witch hobbled in, leaning heavily on her cane. "Good morning!" Hermione sang out cheerfully. "Welcome to Medicura Apothecaria!"
The witch barely acknowledged the greeting. Instead, she made her painful way over to the shelves, peering creakily up at the jars of ingredients.
"Oh, and if you don't see what you're looking for, please let me know. I'm still unpacking. Can I get you a cup of tea? It's on the house."
"I'll take two limbs of that Octopus Aloe over there," replied the old woman. Her voice was soft and surprisingly girlish.
"Of course. Have a seat while I get them for you."
Thankfully, it was early, and the Octopus Aloe was still sleepy. It fought like the devil when it was fully awake. Hermione managed to lop off two of its fattest tentacles, dodging a squirt of black ink in the process. "Here we are. Anything else?"
"Do you have dittany?"
"I do indeed."
"Apex grade?"
Hermione saluted her with her secateurs. "You certainly know your philters. Would you like it in liquid or powder form?"
"Liquid. A quarter gill."
Hermione measured out the dittany and placed it in one of her custom-made vials, a deep cobalt blue bottle with Medicura Apothecaria, etched in gold letters. She placed the items in a small blue bag, muttered, "Origamus!", and the bag snappily folded itself into a tidy parcel.
Hermione placed it on a tray with the tea, and added a couple of chocolate digestives on a plate. "Since you're my first customer, this calls for a celebration of sorts. I think I'll join you for a cuppa, if you don’t mind. How do you take your tea?"
The old witch hobbled over to the table, and eased herself into a chair with a pained sigh. Her countenance was oddly blurry and out of focus. "Milk and two sugars," she replied. Her breath smelt of harsh, raw liquor.
Now that she saw her customer up close, Hermione finally noticed the rather poorly-executed glamour. She placed the steaming cups on the table and sat down. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Hermione Gr-"
"Merlin's sake, Hermione, I know who you are." The woman's eyes met hers. There was something familiar about them. "I realise I'm no oil painting, but after six years of living with me, I thought something would ring a bell." She waved her hand irritably, and the glamour faded away like wisps of smoke.
Hermione gasped, "Lavender? Is that really you?"
With another wave, the glamour quickly slid back in place, but unsteadily, like a masque sitting askew on her face. "Oh, it's me all right," Lavender agreed, her voice bitter.
“Oh, Lav…” Lavender Brown had been the prettiest girl at Hogwarts. A little vain and a bit silly, no doubt, but she had been the very epitome of the English rose; large, cornflower-blue eyes, flawless skin, pink cheeks, and a very desirable figure. Her mouth was perfect, her oval face perfect, her shining wavy hair perfect… While Lavender had titivated and slaved for an hour every morning to achieve that natural, flawless effect, Hermione would stand beside her, brushing her teeth and pretending she did not feel like an old slag.
What had happened to Lavender was second-hand news to Hermione, mostly gleaned from Ginny Weasley's infrequent letters. As Hermione struggled to find the right words to say, Lavender pulled out a small flask and unabashedly poured a generous measure into her tea. The smell of cheap whisky wafted from the steaming mug, stinging Hermione’s nose. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, "Isn't it a little early?" but she stopped herself in time. Instead she whispered, "I'm so sorry, Lavender. Is there anything I can do?"
Lavender put a gloved hand on her arm. Even through the cloth, her hand was hard and cold, like a corpse. "You can put away your pity, Hermione,” she answered with an impatient sign. “And no, there's nothing you or anyone can do."
"I heard about the attack, but only afterward. Those first few days…"
"I know," said Lavender. She gave a twitchy little shrug. "We were the lucky ones, as the Daily Prophet says." Her voice carried none of the anger Hermione would have expected; just weary resignation. "I’m just one of the fortunate few who managed to survive the terrible battle, and live to tell the tale. Everyone’s always so quick to remind me just how lucky I am."
Hermione lowered her eyes. "Ginny told me what happened, Lav. I mean, erm, about … about Ron walking out on you after..."
"Oh, fuck's sake, Hermione!" Lavender flung off her hat and then clapped her hands twice, letting the glamour fall away completely. Hermione could not control her gasp of horror at the sight of Lavender's ravaged face. Where there had once been long, shining tresses, now sparse wisps of brittle grey hair clung to a scab-covered scalp. Her face was a shiny mask of acid-burn scars. There was an oozing sore on her forehead and another on her cheek. Her eyelids were tattered, and her once-lovely mouth was thin and colourless. Nerve damage had caused it to droop on one side.
"Ron didn't leave me," said Lavender. "I sent him away." She pointed to her own face. "Do you think I would allow him to burden himself with this for the rest of his days?" Wearily, she picked up her hat and restored her glamour once more. "What kind of life would we have had?"
Shocked, Hermione spluttered, "But Ron always thought you were─"
"Oh, he actually liked taking care of me, the dopy arse. And he would have stuck around, if I had let him. We would both have been miserable then. I wouldn't do that to him. He deserves better." She sniffed. "I couldn't do that to him after…after…" She sighed. "I think I should just pay for my purchases and go."
Hermione's face burned with embarrassment. "Of course. I'm sorry to have been so tactless." She pushed the items into Lavender's hands. "On the house."
She snorted, "Don't be daft. You won't have a house if you give all your stock away. I can pay─"
"I know you can." Hermione tried to smile. "But it's bad luck to charge your first customer."
"Says who, you silly cow?"
Hermione laughed. "Says the silly cow." Besides she thought, I'd say you've paid enough. She made a quick decision.
"Lavender," she said briskly, "I have something for you."
She fetched her samples case from the counter, and selected one of the blue vials. Pressing it into Lavender's hand, she said, "I'd like for you to give this a try. It's a potion I perfected."
The glamoured face shot her what might have been a suspicious look, but it was so smeary and indistinct it might have been curiosity instead. "What is it?"
"Well, it doesn't really have a name, but…"
"But what does it do?"
Hermione chewed her bottom lip. "It… it helps. That's all I can say. It helps," she finished lamely. "Oh, do try it, Lav! You know I know what I'm doing."
To her relief, Lavender laughed. It was a sharp, unwilling sound, raspy from disuse. "Well, you always did run rings around me in Potions. Alright, if you insist. I'll be your guinea pig."
"Good. Now be sure and come back and tell me how it worked."
Lavender rewarded her with another tarnished laugh. "And how, pray tell, will I know it works, when I don't even know what it does?"
Hermione felt her smile tighten her cheeks. "You'll know. I promise."
With some effort, Lavender hauled herself up, tucking her parcels into her pocket. "I meet with a group once a month at St Mungo's. We talk about what happened to us, and the leader says it’s supposed to help. Who knows?" She gave a little shrug. "Perhaps it does. Anyway, I'll tell them all to stop by, give you a little business."
"Thank you, Lavender. And please stop by yourself, anytime, even if it's just for tea."
As Lavender shuffled toward the door, she glanced across the street. "I meant to ask, how's His Nibs taking you being here?"
Hermione wrinkled her nose. "He wasn't exactly thrilled."
"Word is his business isn't great."
Hermione looked at his inhospitable shop. "It's too bad. He's the best there is." Impulsively, she added, "Look, while you're here, why don't you drop by his shop? I think he mentioned he was working on some new products,” she lied. “You never know what he might have that will help."
Lavender scoffed. "It's a little early in the game to be giving away your custom, isn't it?"
"That's what I'm here for," she whispered, as Lavender made her way out the door. Hermione watched as she approach Snape's shop, but to her disappointment, Lavender gave her head a stubborn shake and headed toward Diagon Alley instead.
The bell above the door rang out, and a middle-aged wizard walked in. He looked around timidly, his nose twitching like a rabbit’s, ready to bolt. He spotted Hermione, and actually jumped. "Oh, uh, h─hello," he stammered, blushing furiously.
Before he could dive for cover, Hermione put on her best smile and said, "Welcome to Medicura Apothecaria!"
Chapter Four
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 02:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 02:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 02:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 02:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 02:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 02:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 02:31 am (UTC)What the heck is in that vial?!?!
Chapter 4, s'il vous plait.
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Date: 2016-06-07 02:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 09:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 10:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 04:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 10:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 08:39 am (UTC)eagerly watching for updates!!!
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Date: 2016-06-07 10:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 11:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 07:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 07:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 07:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-09 12:24 am (UTC)That's what I'm here for. I hope Hermione's potions can help make things better for Severus and Lavender.
no subject
Date: 2016-06-15 02:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-15 07:40 pm (UTC)WHAT IS HERMIONE'S END GAME?!?
Also, I have a soft spot for a broken Lavender learning to live and love again!!
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Date: 2016-06-15 07:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-15 07:47 pm (UTC)