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teddy_radiatorTitle: Take These Stars Down To The World
Rating: R
(Highlight to View) Warning(s): This chapter contains very explicit acts of violence.
(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.
Thank you all for your encouraging comments. I'm really glad you like the story.
Chapter Nine - Medicura Apothecaria
Later that evening, after supper, as Cynthia and Anthony sat around the fire eating freshly baked biscuits, Hermione brewed them her special hot chocolate. She made it in the French way, thick and velvety, using the finest Criollo, and adding a pinch of red pepper. A dollop of sweet cream garnished the top, and by the time it was done, the aroma of rich, enticing chocolate permeated the room.
Mother and son took an experimental sip, and instantly fell in love. "I've never had anything so scrumptious!" Cynthia exclaimed, eagerly accepting a second cup. “Isn’t it lovely, Anthony?” The boy nodded contentedly, his face smeared with chocolate, a cream moustache adorning his upper lip.
Hermione promised that the following Sunday, she would show them how to grind the nibs for tempering. Anthony had been fascinated to learn about the different types of magical cacao and how they were used in ceremonies. "It's powerful stuff," she told him, "but there's trick to making it. I'll bet you'd pick it up in no time, Anthony. I could even teach you how to brew your first potion with it, if you like," she promised.
"Mister Snape said he would teach me how to make Giggle-box Potion," Anthony replied, licking around the rim of his mug.
Hermione hid her surprise. Giggle-box Potion? Does the man ever cease to amaze?
Anthony swirled the rich, thick chocolate around his cup, entranced at the changing patterns. In a far-away voice, he added, "He says it's not a real potion, but it will teach me the proper brewing technique."
"Well, he is the best potioneer I know, so I would pay very close attention to him," Hermione replied, sagely. "Now me, I can't exactly teach you how to bottle fame and brew glory, much less the Giggle-box Potion." She leaned in close. "But we can make a mean hot chocolate."
As she spoke, Hermione saw his eyelids drooping heavily; he was practically dozing. She gently took the mug from his relaxing fingers and picked him up. "I think it's time for bed, don't you?" she whispered, and he nodded against her shoulder. He was surprisingly heavy for such a little boy.
Cynthia silently followed Hermione into their little bedroom, and after tucking Anthony in, she turned to Hermione and embraced her. "Thank you for everything," she said simply. "I can't seem to take in all that has happened." She stepped back, and put her hands on her large belly. "I don't know what will happen to us, but anything's better than what we've been living through."
Hermione smiled. "In a few days' time, this will all be over and you'll start a new life. This will all seem like a bad dream."
Cynthia did not return her smile. "I want to believe that, more than anything." She sighed, and glanced toward the window. Outside, Osmotic Alley was as dark and silent as the grave. “When I think he’s out there, somewhere─”
"They'll catch him, and put him away. You have my word on that."
Hermione helped Cynthia dress for bed and made sure she was comfortable. After saying goodnight, she went to her own bedroom, undressed and climbed into bed. Sleep proved to be elusive, however. Her mind replayed the events of the hectic day, and nothing she did could wipe the slate clean long enough for her to drop off.
And of course, all roads kept leading back to Severus. He had seemed to unbend a bit when they were talking about customers, and wards, and everything but the kiss-shaped elephant in the room. Hermione had hoped they might at last be turning a corner. But when he returned from his visit with the Aurors, he had merely thanked her for her assistance, checked on Cynthia's welfare, ordered Anthony to 'be a good lad and watch over Mummy,' then formally said good-night and left.
She sighed. "Stop thinking about him. I don't care how good a kisser he is, he's not interested in you," she whispered to herself. A wave of sadness washed over her, bringing with it a nice little catch of self-pity and regret. She had enjoyed several lovers during the past few years, but she had never felt anything like the desire she had experienced during their kiss. She had been overwhelmed by the sheer power and passion of the man, and in those heady moments, she would have done anything he commanded of her.
The Gift had spoken of his loneliness and his own isolation. And he had kissed her, so he must have wanted to. The more she thought about it, the more the Pandora dig wormed into her. She had forgotten just how adroit he was at planting a seed so deeply his victims often ended up cultivating it themselves. He had certainly not lost his touch over the years; he could still cut her heart out with a spoon when he wanted to.
But the cut is only as deep as you allow the edge to be sharpened. The little voice sounded suspiciously like Master Castillo. He had warned her more than once of the dangers of blaming others for her own insecurities. Good thing he actually never got the chance to meet Snape.
And, of course, after all that, instead of standing his ground and allowing her to defend herself, he ran. He ran. He ran. The words wore a monotonous groove into her tired brain until they were as mangled and confusing as the act itself. Whatever his actions had meant was not within her power to interpret.
She rolled over, punched her pillow into a different, hopefully more sleep-inducing shape, and closed her eyes, determined to shut down her troublesome thoughts. Around her, she heard the sounds of the building; the pops and creaks of old wooden joists cooling after the long sunny day, the unfamiliar sounds of her guests. Now and then, a whimper, and a soothing voice to calm it. So quiet, she could not be sure who comforted whom─
Then she heard the unmistakable sound of glass breaking, and she felt her wards shudder, then crumble. She jumped from her bed, wand in hand. "Lumos," she whispered, and ducked into the guest room. Cynthia was also awake, and in the wandlight Hermione saw her fear. "Someone's in here," Hermione whispered. "Get dressed-"
"Cynthia! Cynthia! I know you're in here, you stupid, fat cow!" The booming, male voice accompanied thundering steps up the stairs.
Cynthia clutched her arm. "It's Chet. Oh, gods, he's here!" Panic nullified anything else, and she sobbed hysterically, "What'll I do? Where can we go?"
Hermione slammed the landing door shut, with her strongest ward protecting it. She tried to move, but Cynthia's hand gripped like a vise. "He'll kill us! He said he would if he ever found us again!"
"He's not going to find you! Listen to me, Cynthia! You need to pull yourself together so we can get you two out of here now!"
Hermione took hold of her arms and was helping Cynthia to walk when she doubled over with a cry of alarm. They both watched in horror as her waters broke, and pooled at her feet. "Oh gods, the baby!" she cried, staring up at Hermione with eyes that were wild with distress. "The baby's coming!"
"Mum!" Weeping with fright, Anthony threw his arms around his mother's neck. "Mum, please, don't let him hurt us!"
From the landing, a blasting hex shook the entire floor, but Hermione's wards held. "Now listen to me, both of you!" Hermione hissed. "No one is going to hurt you, I promise-"
Another blast blew out the windows. "Let me in, you interfering bitch, or I'll bring this whole fucking building down over your head!"
Hermione physically hauled a gasping, panting Cynthia to her feet and got them moving. "You won't be able to Floo. Not in this condition. You're going to have to sneak out down the back stairwell."
They ran toward the other side of the building to a rickety fire escape and wrenched open the old door. When it swung out on one creaking hinge, Hermione's heart sank. Even with every Strengthening charm she knew, the wooden stairs were so rotten from disuse and neglect she doubted they would hold Anthony's weight, much less his mother's. Hermione thought of levitating them, but she was afraid even that would be too much for Cynthia's frail body to bear.
From behind them, the blasts grew stronger and more frequent as Chester Belldon's anger and determination increased. The building shook with them; clouds of dust sifted down from the ancient rafters. Her wards were failing against his onslaught as fast as Hermione could reinforce them.
"Open this door! You have no right keeping me from my family! Cynthia! Tell this stupid cunt to let me in!"
Looking around frantically, Hermione led Cynthia and Anthony into the farthest, darkest corner of the room. As they huddled together, she Dissolutioned them, then covered them with a Silencing spell for good measure. "Don't do anything to give yourself away. I'll get help. Just stay hidden," she urged swiftly.
Turning toward the door, Hermione closed her eyes, trying to bring forward her happiest memory: the night she was inducted into the Criollo. The smell of wood smoke, the chanting, the velvet potion on her tongue- "EXPECTO PAT-"
A blast knocked her off her feet, and with her fell her wards. Dazed, Hermione struggled to right herself, when a vicious kick in the ribs knocked what little breath remained in her lungs. "Where's my wife, you stupid cow!" a drunken voice bellowed. Hermione managed to roll onto her side as the second kick caught her in the back. She cried out in pain, even as she raised an arm to defend herself. A meaty paw wrenched her wand from her hand, and she heard the sickening sound of it snapping in two.
Hermione looked up into the face of her attacker. Chester Belldon was a big man, with dark, thinning hair. He may have played Quidditch in his youth, but he was now nothing more than a drunken lout, swaying over her menacingly. His face was twisted into a hideous, demonic mask of hatred. His food-stained robes stretched tightly across his wad of belly, and he stank of Muggle cigarettes, stale beer and vomit.
Her own anger rose with her desperation. "Get out of my house, Bellend," Hermione spat, heaving herself to her feet. "Leave while there's still enough for the Aurors to arrest-"
Her bravado earned her a slap that bloodied her nose and set her ears ringing. A swift jab to the stomach doubled her over, and she fell on her knees, gasping and retching. Belldon leaned over her, his rancid breath making her stomach churn. "Oh, Miss Hermione Hightit Granger thinks she can tell me what to do?" he snarled mockingly. "Well, fuck you! Incarcerous!"
Black ropes flew from his wand, enveloping Hermione in a series of knots that grew tighter the more she struggled. She fought as long and hard as her aching ribs would allow, trying for wandless magic, but she could not focus her concentration enough.
Belldon loomed over her, his jaw slackened with insane, stupid lust. "You know what? I think maybe I should have a little reward for all this aggro. Maybe I'll just fuck you up the arse. I'll bet you'd love it, you dirty cow. What do you think of that?" He straightened. "Did you hear that, Cynthia?” He roared. “You might as well come out of hiding, and bring that sniveling brat with you. Unless you want widdle Anthony to watch me fuck Miss High-and-Mighty Granger, right before I slit your worthless throat!"
"You couldn't get it up with two lolly sticks," Hermione ground out, and braced herself for the next blow─
"NO! Stop it, Chester! Just stop it! Stop it!" Cynthia's hysterical voice, shrill and thin, rang out into the room, and Hermione slumped in defeat. Her Dissolution and Silencio had been cancelled the moment Belldon broke her wand; she had hoped she could somehow disarm him, or at least prove a more enjoyable distraction while Cynthia tried to escape.
Belldon spotted his wife and son cowering in the corner, and lumbered toward them, snorting like a bull. "You worthless piece of shite! I've got the Aurors looking for me because of you!"
Cynthia screamed as her husband yanked her to her feet. He dragged her toward the stairs by her hair. "I told you what would happen, didn't I? I warned you what would happen if you tried to leave me, didn't I? Try and make a fool of me-"
"Run, Anthony!" Hermione screamed. Craning her neck upward, she saw the boy; he was statue-still, staring motionless up into his father's crazed face.
Cynthia cried out, as she doubled over in pain. "Chet, please! My waters have broken! I need the healer, the baby─"
"Oh, you're gonna need a healer when I'm done with you, girl, never doubt it!" he shouted, and punched her in the stomach with such horrific force she dropped like a stone.
"Cynthia!" Hermione shouted, her heart in her throat. The woman lay unmoving on the floor, a pool of blood spreading beneath her robe.
Suddenly, the fever-like fear broke, and Anthony raced to his mother's side. "Mum! Mum! No!" He shook her furiously, but she lay unresponsive. He turned on his father, tears of fury running down his face. "If you… If you've k-k-"
A swift backhand knocked him down like a leaf blown from a tree. "If I what, you little runt?" Belldon nodded toward Cynthia's unmoving form. "What're you gonna do about it, big man? Gonna burn me down?" He made a beckoning gesture, his face full of unholy glee. "C'mon then, big man, show me what you're made of. I said c'mon!" he shouted, and Anthony flinched helplessly.
Belldon laughed. "Yeah, you're a big tough guy aren't you? You're no better than that lazy sow there. Pathetic little runt."
Hermione was no longer listening. She was watching Anthony's face. As his father spoke, the fear slowly bled from his eyes. There was a strange, electric charge in the air. How old is Anthony? she wondered, her mind racing. Five, six? The very age when a wizard or witch starts to exhibit… Oh gods…
Belldon, however, was aware of nothing but his own mocking voice, his own pathetic power over his helpless child. He took a step toward his son, rolling up his sleeves menacingly. In a swift, practiced gesture, he unbuckled his belt. "C'mon, big shot. I'll give you something to cry about."
Anthony held his ground. In a trembling, small voice, he warned, "You better stop now." A faint breeze, like a dust devil, swirled around his feet. "Go away and leave us alone."
"Oh ho! And how're you gonna make me?"
"Stop it. I mean it."
"Do as he says, Belldon!" Hermione cried out.
"Shut up, Granger. You don't have Harry Potter Almighty to protect you now." He turned back to his son, oblivious to the rising wind, the churning dust gathering speed around him. "So what are you gonna do, big man?" He grabbed the boy by his shirt front and pulled him off his feet. "What are you gonna do?" he shouted.
Anthony opened his eyes, and what Hermione saw in them made her whimper. "I'm gonna burn you down," said the boy with a smile.
The entire world exploded.
Chapter Ten
Rating: R
(Highlight to View) Warning(s): This chapter contains very explicit acts of violence.
(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.
Thank you all for your encouraging comments. I'm really glad you like the story.
Chapter Nine - Medicura Apothecaria
Later that evening, after supper, as Cynthia and Anthony sat around the fire eating freshly baked biscuits, Hermione brewed them her special hot chocolate. She made it in the French way, thick and velvety, using the finest Criollo, and adding a pinch of red pepper. A dollop of sweet cream garnished the top, and by the time it was done, the aroma of rich, enticing chocolate permeated the room.
Mother and son took an experimental sip, and instantly fell in love. "I've never had anything so scrumptious!" Cynthia exclaimed, eagerly accepting a second cup. “Isn’t it lovely, Anthony?” The boy nodded contentedly, his face smeared with chocolate, a cream moustache adorning his upper lip.
Hermione promised that the following Sunday, she would show them how to grind the nibs for tempering. Anthony had been fascinated to learn about the different types of magical cacao and how they were used in ceremonies. "It's powerful stuff," she told him, "but there's trick to making it. I'll bet you'd pick it up in no time, Anthony. I could even teach you how to brew your first potion with it, if you like," she promised.
"Mister Snape said he would teach me how to make Giggle-box Potion," Anthony replied, licking around the rim of his mug.
Hermione hid her surprise. Giggle-box Potion? Does the man ever cease to amaze?
Anthony swirled the rich, thick chocolate around his cup, entranced at the changing patterns. In a far-away voice, he added, "He says it's not a real potion, but it will teach me the proper brewing technique."
"Well, he is the best potioneer I know, so I would pay very close attention to him," Hermione replied, sagely. "Now me, I can't exactly teach you how to bottle fame and brew glory, much less the Giggle-box Potion." She leaned in close. "But we can make a mean hot chocolate."
As she spoke, Hermione saw his eyelids drooping heavily; he was practically dozing. She gently took the mug from his relaxing fingers and picked him up. "I think it's time for bed, don't you?" she whispered, and he nodded against her shoulder. He was surprisingly heavy for such a little boy.
Cynthia silently followed Hermione into their little bedroom, and after tucking Anthony in, she turned to Hermione and embraced her. "Thank you for everything," she said simply. "I can't seem to take in all that has happened." She stepped back, and put her hands on her large belly. "I don't know what will happen to us, but anything's better than what we've been living through."
Hermione smiled. "In a few days' time, this will all be over and you'll start a new life. This will all seem like a bad dream."
Cynthia did not return her smile. "I want to believe that, more than anything." She sighed, and glanced toward the window. Outside, Osmotic Alley was as dark and silent as the grave. “When I think he’s out there, somewhere─”
"They'll catch him, and put him away. You have my word on that."
Hermione helped Cynthia dress for bed and made sure she was comfortable. After saying goodnight, she went to her own bedroom, undressed and climbed into bed. Sleep proved to be elusive, however. Her mind replayed the events of the hectic day, and nothing she did could wipe the slate clean long enough for her to drop off.
And of course, all roads kept leading back to Severus. He had seemed to unbend a bit when they were talking about customers, and wards, and everything but the kiss-shaped elephant in the room. Hermione had hoped they might at last be turning a corner. But when he returned from his visit with the Aurors, he had merely thanked her for her assistance, checked on Cynthia's welfare, ordered Anthony to 'be a good lad and watch over Mummy,' then formally said good-night and left.
She sighed. "Stop thinking about him. I don't care how good a kisser he is, he's not interested in you," she whispered to herself. A wave of sadness washed over her, bringing with it a nice little catch of self-pity and regret. She had enjoyed several lovers during the past few years, but she had never felt anything like the desire she had experienced during their kiss. She had been overwhelmed by the sheer power and passion of the man, and in those heady moments, she would have done anything he commanded of her.
The Gift had spoken of his loneliness and his own isolation. And he had kissed her, so he must have wanted to. The more she thought about it, the more the Pandora dig wormed into her. She had forgotten just how adroit he was at planting a seed so deeply his victims often ended up cultivating it themselves. He had certainly not lost his touch over the years; he could still cut her heart out with a spoon when he wanted to.
But the cut is only as deep as you allow the edge to be sharpened. The little voice sounded suspiciously like Master Castillo. He had warned her more than once of the dangers of blaming others for her own insecurities. Good thing he actually never got the chance to meet Snape.
And, of course, after all that, instead of standing his ground and allowing her to defend herself, he ran. He ran. He ran. The words wore a monotonous groove into her tired brain until they were as mangled and confusing as the act itself. Whatever his actions had meant was not within her power to interpret.
She rolled over, punched her pillow into a different, hopefully more sleep-inducing shape, and closed her eyes, determined to shut down her troublesome thoughts. Around her, she heard the sounds of the building; the pops and creaks of old wooden joists cooling after the long sunny day, the unfamiliar sounds of her guests. Now and then, a whimper, and a soothing voice to calm it. So quiet, she could not be sure who comforted whom─
Then she heard the unmistakable sound of glass breaking, and she felt her wards shudder, then crumble. She jumped from her bed, wand in hand. "Lumos," she whispered, and ducked into the guest room. Cynthia was also awake, and in the wandlight Hermione saw her fear. "Someone's in here," Hermione whispered. "Get dressed-"
"Cynthia! Cynthia! I know you're in here, you stupid, fat cow!" The booming, male voice accompanied thundering steps up the stairs.
Cynthia clutched her arm. "It's Chet. Oh, gods, he's here!" Panic nullified anything else, and she sobbed hysterically, "What'll I do? Where can we go?"
Hermione slammed the landing door shut, with her strongest ward protecting it. She tried to move, but Cynthia's hand gripped like a vise. "He'll kill us! He said he would if he ever found us again!"
"He's not going to find you! Listen to me, Cynthia! You need to pull yourself together so we can get you two out of here now!"
Hermione took hold of her arms and was helping Cynthia to walk when she doubled over with a cry of alarm. They both watched in horror as her waters broke, and pooled at her feet. "Oh gods, the baby!" she cried, staring up at Hermione with eyes that were wild with distress. "The baby's coming!"
"Mum!" Weeping with fright, Anthony threw his arms around his mother's neck. "Mum, please, don't let him hurt us!"
From the landing, a blasting hex shook the entire floor, but Hermione's wards held. "Now listen to me, both of you!" Hermione hissed. "No one is going to hurt you, I promise-"
Another blast blew out the windows. "Let me in, you interfering bitch, or I'll bring this whole fucking building down over your head!"
Hermione physically hauled a gasping, panting Cynthia to her feet and got them moving. "You won't be able to Floo. Not in this condition. You're going to have to sneak out down the back stairwell."
They ran toward the other side of the building to a rickety fire escape and wrenched open the old door. When it swung out on one creaking hinge, Hermione's heart sank. Even with every Strengthening charm she knew, the wooden stairs were so rotten from disuse and neglect she doubted they would hold Anthony's weight, much less his mother's. Hermione thought of levitating them, but she was afraid even that would be too much for Cynthia's frail body to bear.
From behind them, the blasts grew stronger and more frequent as Chester Belldon's anger and determination increased. The building shook with them; clouds of dust sifted down from the ancient rafters. Her wards were failing against his onslaught as fast as Hermione could reinforce them.
"Open this door! You have no right keeping me from my family! Cynthia! Tell this stupid cunt to let me in!"
Looking around frantically, Hermione led Cynthia and Anthony into the farthest, darkest corner of the room. As they huddled together, she Dissolutioned them, then covered them with a Silencing spell for good measure. "Don't do anything to give yourself away. I'll get help. Just stay hidden," she urged swiftly.
Turning toward the door, Hermione closed her eyes, trying to bring forward her happiest memory: the night she was inducted into the Criollo. The smell of wood smoke, the chanting, the velvet potion on her tongue- "EXPECTO PAT-"
A blast knocked her off her feet, and with her fell her wards. Dazed, Hermione struggled to right herself, when a vicious kick in the ribs knocked what little breath remained in her lungs. "Where's my wife, you stupid cow!" a drunken voice bellowed. Hermione managed to roll onto her side as the second kick caught her in the back. She cried out in pain, even as she raised an arm to defend herself. A meaty paw wrenched her wand from her hand, and she heard the sickening sound of it snapping in two.
Hermione looked up into the face of her attacker. Chester Belldon was a big man, with dark, thinning hair. He may have played Quidditch in his youth, but he was now nothing more than a drunken lout, swaying over her menacingly. His face was twisted into a hideous, demonic mask of hatred. His food-stained robes stretched tightly across his wad of belly, and he stank of Muggle cigarettes, stale beer and vomit.
Her own anger rose with her desperation. "Get out of my house, Bellend," Hermione spat, heaving herself to her feet. "Leave while there's still enough for the Aurors to arrest-"
Her bravado earned her a slap that bloodied her nose and set her ears ringing. A swift jab to the stomach doubled her over, and she fell on her knees, gasping and retching. Belldon leaned over her, his rancid breath making her stomach churn. "Oh, Miss Hermione Hightit Granger thinks she can tell me what to do?" he snarled mockingly. "Well, fuck you! Incarcerous!"
Black ropes flew from his wand, enveloping Hermione in a series of knots that grew tighter the more she struggled. She fought as long and hard as her aching ribs would allow, trying for wandless magic, but she could not focus her concentration enough.
Belldon loomed over her, his jaw slackened with insane, stupid lust. "You know what? I think maybe I should have a little reward for all this aggro. Maybe I'll just fuck you up the arse. I'll bet you'd love it, you dirty cow. What do you think of that?" He straightened. "Did you hear that, Cynthia?” He roared. “You might as well come out of hiding, and bring that sniveling brat with you. Unless you want widdle Anthony to watch me fuck Miss High-and-Mighty Granger, right before I slit your worthless throat!"
"You couldn't get it up with two lolly sticks," Hermione ground out, and braced herself for the next blow─
"NO! Stop it, Chester! Just stop it! Stop it!" Cynthia's hysterical voice, shrill and thin, rang out into the room, and Hermione slumped in defeat. Her Dissolution and Silencio had been cancelled the moment Belldon broke her wand; she had hoped she could somehow disarm him, or at least prove a more enjoyable distraction while Cynthia tried to escape.
Belldon spotted his wife and son cowering in the corner, and lumbered toward them, snorting like a bull. "You worthless piece of shite! I've got the Aurors looking for me because of you!"
Cynthia screamed as her husband yanked her to her feet. He dragged her toward the stairs by her hair. "I told you what would happen, didn't I? I warned you what would happen if you tried to leave me, didn't I? Try and make a fool of me-"
"Run, Anthony!" Hermione screamed. Craning her neck upward, she saw the boy; he was statue-still, staring motionless up into his father's crazed face.
Cynthia cried out, as she doubled over in pain. "Chet, please! My waters have broken! I need the healer, the baby─"
"Oh, you're gonna need a healer when I'm done with you, girl, never doubt it!" he shouted, and punched her in the stomach with such horrific force she dropped like a stone.
"Cynthia!" Hermione shouted, her heart in her throat. The woman lay unmoving on the floor, a pool of blood spreading beneath her robe.
Suddenly, the fever-like fear broke, and Anthony raced to his mother's side. "Mum! Mum! No!" He shook her furiously, but she lay unresponsive. He turned on his father, tears of fury running down his face. "If you… If you've k-k-"
A swift backhand knocked him down like a leaf blown from a tree. "If I what, you little runt?" Belldon nodded toward Cynthia's unmoving form. "What're you gonna do about it, big man? Gonna burn me down?" He made a beckoning gesture, his face full of unholy glee. "C'mon then, big man, show me what you're made of. I said c'mon!" he shouted, and Anthony flinched helplessly.
Belldon laughed. "Yeah, you're a big tough guy aren't you? You're no better than that lazy sow there. Pathetic little runt."
Hermione was no longer listening. She was watching Anthony's face. As his father spoke, the fear slowly bled from his eyes. There was a strange, electric charge in the air. How old is Anthony? she wondered, her mind racing. Five, six? The very age when a wizard or witch starts to exhibit… Oh gods…
Belldon, however, was aware of nothing but his own mocking voice, his own pathetic power over his helpless child. He took a step toward his son, rolling up his sleeves menacingly. In a swift, practiced gesture, he unbuckled his belt. "C'mon, big shot. I'll give you something to cry about."
Anthony held his ground. In a trembling, small voice, he warned, "You better stop now." A faint breeze, like a dust devil, swirled around his feet. "Go away and leave us alone."
"Oh ho! And how're you gonna make me?"
"Stop it. I mean it."
"Do as he says, Belldon!" Hermione cried out.
"Shut up, Granger. You don't have Harry Potter Almighty to protect you now." He turned back to his son, oblivious to the rising wind, the churning dust gathering speed around him. "So what are you gonna do, big man?" He grabbed the boy by his shirt front and pulled him off his feet. "What are you gonna do?" he shouted.
Anthony opened his eyes, and what Hermione saw in them made her whimper. "I'm gonna burn you down," said the boy with a smile.
The entire world exploded.
Chapter Ten
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Date: 2016-06-15 01:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-15 06:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-15 03:32 am (UTC)❤️
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Date: 2016-06-15 06:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-15 03:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-15 06:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-15 04:48 am (UTC)shinysnarky. Now seriously, be a dear and post the next chapter.no subject
Date: 2016-06-15 06:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-15 04:31 pm (UTC)Eagerly awaiting the next episode.
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Date: 2016-06-15 06:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-15 11:03 pm (UTC)What I really need is for you to post the next chapter. Pretty please with sugar on top?
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Date: 2016-06-15 11:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-16 01:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-16 02:54 pm (UTC)