The Sempra Deck 02 - The High Priestess
Jun. 25th, 2011 09:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
teddy_radiatorThe amazing ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mimimanderly has just released the next card of The Sempra Deck, a set of Major Arcana cards forming the Tarot. Each time Mimi posts a new card, I will post another edition of the story, so you can see how the story and the cards meshed together. Here is the next card - 02 The High Priestess, and here is the next chapter of the story.
This Chapter is rated PG for content. Happy Reading!
The Sempra Deck is dedicated to the real mystic goddess Mimi Manderly; to her beloved SeverusMuse, and to my precious Dahlra. All characters with the exception of Mimi Manderley, Peter and Dahlra belong to JK Rowling. I make no money from this publication.
Chapter Two – Compiling the Tools
“…I think she’s coming round, sir.”
“Good. If he’s still waiting – “
“I’ll look and see…”
Mimi opened one eye, and instinctively put her hands in front of her face to block out the harsh light that threatened to pierce her eyeballs. She had a splitting headache and felt sick in the bargain. Oh God, she thought. I must have had waaay too much to drink last night–
Memories flooded into her mind, of the museum and the witch box, and the Sempra Tarot deck, and Mimi sat bolt upright. Then she wished she hadn’t. Nausea overcame her and she turned over and vomited on the floor. Her mind must be playing tricks, she surmised, as the mess seemed to disappear from the floor almost immediately.
“Oh dear, we’ve had a nasty time of it, haven’t we?” The voice, a female’s, was brisk, but not unkind. It was also unmistakably British. Still retching, Mimi looked up to see a woman in her late fifties looking down on her intently. She was holding a little blue bottle out to Mimi. “This should take care of that upset stomach, dear.”
Mimi blinked. The woman was dressed like Florence Nightingale, with a white wimple and long grey gown. A white apron with a large red cross completed the look, along with lace-up brogues. She gestured with the bottle. “Bottoms up! The sooner down, the sooner you’ll feel normal again.”
“Where am I?” Mimi was shocked to hear how weak she sounded. She looked around at her surroundings, and gasped. She was in a huge infirmary that looked like it was already old when Queen Victoria was on the throne. “More to the point, what am I doing here?”
The woman frowned. “Well, I think the best person to answer that is the Headmaster.” The bottle was shoved under Mimi’s nose again. “Now, Miss, I don’t like to resort to using brute force, but you need – “
“Okay! Okay,” Mimi said, and took the proffered bottle and studied the label carefully. “If I start to shrink, I’m blaming you.”
The nurse gave her a puzzled frown. “Why on earth would I give you a Shrinking Potion? This is an Anti-Nausea Potion.”
Mimi looked at her blankly, trying to digest the gestalt of what Florence had just said. “Anti-Nausea Potion. Of course it is,” Mimi replied, her voice almost feverishly cheerful. She saluted the nurse with the little bottle. “Down the hatch.” She gulped the bottle’s contents, swallowing hard over and over to keep them down. “Christ, I hope it works, because it tastes like sh-“
“Ah, I see our guest is awake now. Thank you for alerting me, Madam Pomfrey.”
Mimi turned around to see a tall, elderly man in a floor-length, lavender robe, looking down at her. He had a long, white beard, and looked for all the world like an aging hippy. Bright blue eyes smiled merrily at her, and Mimi gasped.
“Jesus jumped up Christ on a pogo stick!” she blasphemed. “Are you supposed to be Albus Dumbledore?” She grinned, shaking her head. “You are, aren’t you? Okay, I’ll give you ten out of ten for costume and makeup.” Mimi looked up at the benevolent, grandfatherly figure. “What on earth is going on?”
The Dumbledore look-alike glanced at Madam Pomfrey with raised eyebrows. She returned his look with a shrug, adding confidentially, “I think she must be delirious, Headmaster.”
Dumbledore-alike nodded sagely. “Perhaps she is. Strange, is it not, that she thinks she recognizes me?”
“Um, why are you two talking about her like she’s not in the room?” Mimi said, deliberately. “I’m not delirious, as far as I can tell, and I’m not dreaming, unless this is the most vivid damn dream I’ve ever had, so would you kindly stop acting like I’m not here and tell me what is going on?”
Dumbledore-ish smiled down on her. “I would be happy to explain, my dear, but I’m afraid I am at a loss myself.” He extended his left hand. “I am also at a disadvantage, as you already know my name, but I don’t know yours, Miss-“
“Manderly. Mimi Manderly.” Mimi took the outstretched hand in an awkward greeting, and it was then that she noticed the blackened marks on his right hand.
“Miss Manderly. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, at your service.”
Mimi was thunderstruck. She looked around the Infirmary again. “I’m at Hogwarts?” She began to laugh. She looked from Madam Pomfrey to Professor Dumbledore and burst into peel after peel of hysterical laughter. “I have got to say, that this is the best practical joke I have ever had pulled on me! You two are perfect!”
Her dizziness forgotten, Mimi jumped out of bed and rushed to Dumbledore. “Is that a real beard?” She gave it a tentative yank, and when the old man looked down at her with mild offence, she laughed again. “That is amazing! What are you - some sort of touring group for hire?”
“I told you she was delirious!” Madam Pomfrey declared, and grabbed Mimi by the shoulders. “Please get back in bed, Miss Manderly. You’re obviously unwell!”
“Unwell?” Mimi’s laughter sounded slightly deranged to her own ears. “I’m transported! Did one of my friends put you up to this?” She laughed, shaking her head. “I can’t wait to see the rest of the cast.” She gasped. “Oh, please tell me you have a Snape. I love Snape! He’s my favourite!”
“Excuse me? Headmaster, you wanted to see me?”
Mimi looked beyond the Dumbledore-alike and squealed. A tall man stood in the doorway, looking at the tableau with thinly veiled confusion and consternation. Long, blue-black hair hung oilily about his face, throwing into sharp relief his almost-black eyes, pale, sallow complexion and large nose. His lips were pressed into a thin, disapproving line, and his large hands were tensely clenched by his side.
He was dressed head to toe in deep, unrelieved black. Buttons marched elegantly on his robe: from neck to floor, from elbow to wrist, and from calf to ankle. His slim waist was belted with a long sash, also of black. He looked like a fallen angel dressed as a monsignor.
It was Snape. And he was a good one. She clapped her hands in delight.
“Wow! You are amazing! I had no idea there was a call for this sort of thing!” Mimi’s eyes roamed warmly over the figure of the man playing Severus Snape and said with a smile and a sigh. “You are the perfect Severus Snape.” She didn’t add out loud, and I could eat you up, you sexy beast. I think I’ll keep mouth shut, but if you’re single and straight, I’m definitely giving you my cell number.
The Snape could not have looked more alarmed if Mimi had suddenly jumped up on the table and started removing her clothes. His dark brows shot up almost to his hair line, then rushed together angrily. He turned to the Dumbledore.
“Sir, I received word that you wished to see me.” He risked a glance at Mimi, but his dark eyes darted away quickly when Mimi grinned and wiggled her fingers in greeting to him. “Is there something you needed?”
“Oh. My. God. Even your voice is perfect!” Mimi gasped. “Pure Alan Rickman!” She closed her eyes and grinned. “You are the perfect Snape!”
The Perfect Snape turned back to the Dumbledore with a look that could have peeled paint from the walls. “Headmaster, could you please explain what –” he gestured toward Mimi with a baffled expression on his face. “This person is talking about?”
“I’m not sure, Professor Snape, but since our guest seems to know you already, allow me to finish the introductions.” He turned back to Mimi. “Professor Severus Snape, this is Miss Mimi Manderly.”
The Snape nodded stiffly, his eyes meeting hers for an uncomfortable moment, then looking away quickly. “I’m quite busy, Headmaster. What is it that you require?”
The Dumbledore looked carefully at the Snape, then back to Mimi. “I think we require your skills in ascertaining how Miss Manderly found herself unconscious on the steps of the school. Have you heard anything about this?”
“I haven’t heard anything about this!” Mimi declared, confused. She looked at the three people carefully. “Look, I think this great fun, but I really want to know exactly what’s going on. I mean, you all look wonderful, and it’s obvious that someone’s gone to a lot of trouble to do this for me, but, really, I think the jig is up.” The trio of costumed players remained silent. Mimi felt the first vestiges of uncertainty. “What are you doing here?”
“I think the more appropriate question, Miss Manderly,” replied Snape, in a haughty, unfriendly voice, each syllable struck like a piano hammer, “is what are you doing here?” He walked swiftly to her, bearing down on her. “Who sent you? You’re obviously American – what emissary sent you here? It is imperative that we discover whether or not there is Dark Magic being used here.”
Mimi felt her indignation rising. “Now look here, mister,” she said, her voice quiet. “I wasn’t sent by anyone. And I don’t appreciate your rude tone. I’ll have you know that I like the Goth look and I don’t have a Dark persona!” She allowed herself a little indignant huff. “I know you have to stay in character, but enough is enough.”
“You are hardly in any position to make demands, Miss Manderly,” Snape hissed menacingly. He turned to Dumbledore. “Sir, I propose we encourage Miss Manderly to tell us the truth. A little Veritaserum should persuade her adequately.”
“Hey, you,” Mimi shot back. “I’m not the enemy here! Besides, I can’t tell you something I don’t know, even with Veritaserum, and further besides, does it actually work on Muggles?” She looked down. “And why am I playing along with this like it’s real?” she said to herself.
Both men looked surprised. “Miss Manderly,” Dumbledore said quietly. “Are you honestly telling us that you are a Muggle that has somehow landed in our world?”
Mimi made a little sound of desperation. “No, I’m telling you that I am not really feeling up to playing this game anymore! I mean, guys, really, this was great, but my head is killing me and I want to go home!”
“Quite right, Miss Manderly. I cannot blame you in the least.” Dumbledore held out a hand to quell Snape’s impending protest. “There is obviously something going on that is beyond our understanding. I believe Miss Manderly needs to see for herself exactly where she is.”
As they escorted Mimi down the hall, she marveled at the sheer amount of huge, elaborate portraits marching down the corridor. Any museum would have given their eye-teeth to possess a tenth of what she seen on this hall alone. As they neared the end of the passageway, she glanced at a life-sized portrait of a wizard defeating a hag. Mimi stopped and looked at for a moment.
Suddenly, the hag stood up and walked to the front of the portrait. She drew herself up to full height and said, “D-yew mind? I am a little busy, you know.” She had a broad Lancashire accent, and the wizard in the picture turned to see Mimi gaping at them.
He grinned toothily and winked. “Well, Helloooo.” He gave her a come-hither look. “Where have you been all my life, gorgeous?”
“Shut it,” The Snape snapped at the painted wizard, whose features creased in surprise. He pursed his lips disapprovingly.
“Well, you don’t have act so jealous, Professor. I am, after all, just a painting.” With great dignity, he turned away from the trio in the hall and returned to subduing the hag, who had been picking her teeth with a chicken bone.
Mimi watched the whole incident in stunned silence. The two wizards looked at one another, and Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “I think Miss Manderly is starting to understand our world a little better, Severus.” With that, the Dumbledore withdrew a long wooden wand and conjured a gorgeous bouquet from the air. Mimi looked from the Dumbledore to the Snape. Both looked solemn, and worried. Mimi realized that they were frightened, and she was somehow the cause of it.
Two hours later, Mimi was more frightened than the lot of them together.
mimimanderly has just released the next card of The Sempra Deck, a set of Major Arcana cards forming the Tarot. Each time Mimi posts a new card, I will post another edition of the story, so you can see how the story and the cards meshed together. Here is the next card - 02 The High Priestess, and here is the next chapter of the story.
This Chapter is rated PG for content. Happy Reading!
The Sempra Deck is dedicated to the real mystic goddess Mimi Manderly; to her beloved SeverusMuse, and to my precious Dahlra. All characters with the exception of Mimi Manderley, Peter and Dahlra belong to JK Rowling. I make no money from this publication.
Chapter Two – Compiling the Tools
“…I think she’s coming round, sir.”
“Good. If he’s still waiting – “
“I’ll look and see…”
Mimi opened one eye, and instinctively put her hands in front of her face to block out the harsh light that threatened to pierce her eyeballs. She had a splitting headache and felt sick in the bargain. Oh God, she thought. I must have had waaay too much to drink last night–
Memories flooded into her mind, of the museum and the witch box, and the Sempra Tarot deck, and Mimi sat bolt upright. Then she wished she hadn’t. Nausea overcame her and she turned over and vomited on the floor. Her mind must be playing tricks, she surmised, as the mess seemed to disappear from the floor almost immediately.
“Oh dear, we’ve had a nasty time of it, haven’t we?” The voice, a female’s, was brisk, but not unkind. It was also unmistakably British. Still retching, Mimi looked up to see a woman in her late fifties looking down on her intently. She was holding a little blue bottle out to Mimi. “This should take care of that upset stomach, dear.”
Mimi blinked. The woman was dressed like Florence Nightingale, with a white wimple and long grey gown. A white apron with a large red cross completed the look, along with lace-up brogues. She gestured with the bottle. “Bottoms up! The sooner down, the sooner you’ll feel normal again.”
“Where am I?” Mimi was shocked to hear how weak she sounded. She looked around at her surroundings, and gasped. She was in a huge infirmary that looked like it was already old when Queen Victoria was on the throne. “More to the point, what am I doing here?”
The woman frowned. “Well, I think the best person to answer that is the Headmaster.” The bottle was shoved under Mimi’s nose again. “Now, Miss, I don’t like to resort to using brute force, but you need – “
“Okay! Okay,” Mimi said, and took the proffered bottle and studied the label carefully. “If I start to shrink, I’m blaming you.”
The nurse gave her a puzzled frown. “Why on earth would I give you a Shrinking Potion? This is an Anti-Nausea Potion.”
Mimi looked at her blankly, trying to digest the gestalt of what Florence had just said. “Anti-Nausea Potion. Of course it is,” Mimi replied, her voice almost feverishly cheerful. She saluted the nurse with the little bottle. “Down the hatch.” She gulped the bottle’s contents, swallowing hard over and over to keep them down. “Christ, I hope it works, because it tastes like sh-“
“Ah, I see our guest is awake now. Thank you for alerting me, Madam Pomfrey.”
Mimi turned around to see a tall, elderly man in a floor-length, lavender robe, looking down at her. He had a long, white beard, and looked for all the world like an aging hippy. Bright blue eyes smiled merrily at her, and Mimi gasped.
“Jesus jumped up Christ on a pogo stick!” she blasphemed. “Are you supposed to be Albus Dumbledore?” She grinned, shaking her head. “You are, aren’t you? Okay, I’ll give you ten out of ten for costume and makeup.” Mimi looked up at the benevolent, grandfatherly figure. “What on earth is going on?”
The Dumbledore look-alike glanced at Madam Pomfrey with raised eyebrows. She returned his look with a shrug, adding confidentially, “I think she must be delirious, Headmaster.”
Dumbledore-alike nodded sagely. “Perhaps she is. Strange, is it not, that she thinks she recognizes me?”
“Um, why are you two talking about her like she’s not in the room?” Mimi said, deliberately. “I’m not delirious, as far as I can tell, and I’m not dreaming, unless this is the most vivid damn dream I’ve ever had, so would you kindly stop acting like I’m not here and tell me what is going on?”
Dumbledore-ish smiled down on her. “I would be happy to explain, my dear, but I’m afraid I am at a loss myself.” He extended his left hand. “I am also at a disadvantage, as you already know my name, but I don’t know yours, Miss-“
“Manderly. Mimi Manderly.” Mimi took the outstretched hand in an awkward greeting, and it was then that she noticed the blackened marks on his right hand.
“Miss Manderly. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, at your service.”
Mimi was thunderstruck. She looked around the Infirmary again. “I’m at Hogwarts?” She began to laugh. She looked from Madam Pomfrey to Professor Dumbledore and burst into peel after peel of hysterical laughter. “I have got to say, that this is the best practical joke I have ever had pulled on me! You two are perfect!”
Her dizziness forgotten, Mimi jumped out of bed and rushed to Dumbledore. “Is that a real beard?” She gave it a tentative yank, and when the old man looked down at her with mild offence, she laughed again. “That is amazing! What are you - some sort of touring group for hire?”
“I told you she was delirious!” Madam Pomfrey declared, and grabbed Mimi by the shoulders. “Please get back in bed, Miss Manderly. You’re obviously unwell!”
“Unwell?” Mimi’s laughter sounded slightly deranged to her own ears. “I’m transported! Did one of my friends put you up to this?” She laughed, shaking her head. “I can’t wait to see the rest of the cast.” She gasped. “Oh, please tell me you have a Snape. I love Snape! He’s my favourite!”
“Excuse me? Headmaster, you wanted to see me?”
Mimi looked beyond the Dumbledore-alike and squealed. A tall man stood in the doorway, looking at the tableau with thinly veiled confusion and consternation. Long, blue-black hair hung oilily about his face, throwing into sharp relief his almost-black eyes, pale, sallow complexion and large nose. His lips were pressed into a thin, disapproving line, and his large hands were tensely clenched by his side.
He was dressed head to toe in deep, unrelieved black. Buttons marched elegantly on his robe: from neck to floor, from elbow to wrist, and from calf to ankle. His slim waist was belted with a long sash, also of black. He looked like a fallen angel dressed as a monsignor.
It was Snape. And he was a good one. She clapped her hands in delight.
“Wow! You are amazing! I had no idea there was a call for this sort of thing!” Mimi’s eyes roamed warmly over the figure of the man playing Severus Snape and said with a smile and a sigh. “You are the perfect Severus Snape.” She didn’t add out loud, and I could eat you up, you sexy beast. I think I’ll keep mouth shut, but if you’re single and straight, I’m definitely giving you my cell number.
The Snape could not have looked more alarmed if Mimi had suddenly jumped up on the table and started removing her clothes. His dark brows shot up almost to his hair line, then rushed together angrily. He turned to the Dumbledore.
“Sir, I received word that you wished to see me.” He risked a glance at Mimi, but his dark eyes darted away quickly when Mimi grinned and wiggled her fingers in greeting to him. “Is there something you needed?”
“Oh. My. God. Even your voice is perfect!” Mimi gasped. “Pure Alan Rickman!” She closed her eyes and grinned. “You are the perfect Snape!”
The Perfect Snape turned back to the Dumbledore with a look that could have peeled paint from the walls. “Headmaster, could you please explain what –” he gestured toward Mimi with a baffled expression on his face. “This person is talking about?”
“I’m not sure, Professor Snape, but since our guest seems to know you already, allow me to finish the introductions.” He turned back to Mimi. “Professor Severus Snape, this is Miss Mimi Manderly.”
The Snape nodded stiffly, his eyes meeting hers for an uncomfortable moment, then looking away quickly. “I’m quite busy, Headmaster. What is it that you require?”
The Dumbledore looked carefully at the Snape, then back to Mimi. “I think we require your skills in ascertaining how Miss Manderly found herself unconscious on the steps of the school. Have you heard anything about this?”
“I haven’t heard anything about this!” Mimi declared, confused. She looked at the three people carefully. “Look, I think this great fun, but I really want to know exactly what’s going on. I mean, you all look wonderful, and it’s obvious that someone’s gone to a lot of trouble to do this for me, but, really, I think the jig is up.” The trio of costumed players remained silent. Mimi felt the first vestiges of uncertainty. “What are you doing here?”
“I think the more appropriate question, Miss Manderly,” replied Snape, in a haughty, unfriendly voice, each syllable struck like a piano hammer, “is what are you doing here?” He walked swiftly to her, bearing down on her. “Who sent you? You’re obviously American – what emissary sent you here? It is imperative that we discover whether or not there is Dark Magic being used here.”
Mimi felt her indignation rising. “Now look here, mister,” she said, her voice quiet. “I wasn’t sent by anyone. And I don’t appreciate your rude tone. I’ll have you know that I like the Goth look and I don’t have a Dark persona!” She allowed herself a little indignant huff. “I know you have to stay in character, but enough is enough.”
“You are hardly in any position to make demands, Miss Manderly,” Snape hissed menacingly. He turned to Dumbledore. “Sir, I propose we encourage Miss Manderly to tell us the truth. A little Veritaserum should persuade her adequately.”
“Hey, you,” Mimi shot back. “I’m not the enemy here! Besides, I can’t tell you something I don’t know, even with Veritaserum, and further besides, does it actually work on Muggles?” She looked down. “And why am I playing along with this like it’s real?” she said to herself.
Both men looked surprised. “Miss Manderly,” Dumbledore said quietly. “Are you honestly telling us that you are a Muggle that has somehow landed in our world?”
Mimi made a little sound of desperation. “No, I’m telling you that I am not really feeling up to playing this game anymore! I mean, guys, really, this was great, but my head is killing me and I want to go home!”
“Quite right, Miss Manderly. I cannot blame you in the least.” Dumbledore held out a hand to quell Snape’s impending protest. “There is obviously something going on that is beyond our understanding. I believe Miss Manderly needs to see for herself exactly where she is.”
As they escorted Mimi down the hall, she marveled at the sheer amount of huge, elaborate portraits marching down the corridor. Any museum would have given their eye-teeth to possess a tenth of what she seen on this hall alone. As they neared the end of the passageway, she glanced at a life-sized portrait of a wizard defeating a hag. Mimi stopped and looked at for a moment.
Suddenly, the hag stood up and walked to the front of the portrait. She drew herself up to full height and said, “D-yew mind? I am a little busy, you know.” She had a broad Lancashire accent, and the wizard in the picture turned to see Mimi gaping at them.
He grinned toothily and winked. “Well, Helloooo.” He gave her a come-hither look. “Where have you been all my life, gorgeous?”
“Shut it,” The Snape snapped at the painted wizard, whose features creased in surprise. He pursed his lips disapprovingly.
“Well, you don’t have act so jealous, Professor. I am, after all, just a painting.” With great dignity, he turned away from the trio in the hall and returned to subduing the hag, who had been picking her teeth with a chicken bone.
Mimi watched the whole incident in stunned silence. The two wizards looked at one another, and Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “I think Miss Manderly is starting to understand our world a little better, Severus.” With that, the Dumbledore withdrew a long wooden wand and conjured a gorgeous bouquet from the air. Mimi looked from the Dumbledore to the Snape. Both looked solemn, and worried. Mimi realized that they were frightened, and she was somehow the cause of it.
Two hours later, Mimi was more frightened than the lot of them together.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-06-26 02:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-26 07:01 pm (UTC)*questions and more questions*
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Date: 2011-06-26 07:40 pm (UTC)I'm glad you are enjoying it. This fic was one of the most enjoyable stories to write - a truly fun experience.
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Date: 2011-07-07 08:49 pm (UTC)How in the world did she end up on the Hogwarts' steps, I wonder? And how are the actors in the movies the actual people?
“Wow! You are amazing! I had no idea there was a call for this sort of thing!” Mimi’s eyes roamed warmly over the figure of the man playing Severus Snape and said with a smile and a sigh. “You are the perfect Severus Snape.” She didn’t add out loud, and I could eat you up, you sexy beast. I think I’ll keep mouth shut, but if you’re single and straight, I’m definitely giving you my cell number.
The Snape could not have looked more alarmed if Mimi had suddenly jumped up on the table and started removing her clothes. His dark brows shot up almost to his hair line, then rushed together angrily. He turned to the Dumbledore.
Did he just read her mind?! Shame, shame, Severus! You should know better than to read someone's mind without their permission. Now come to my bedroom for your punishment...
Well, you don’t have act so jealous, Professor.
Someone's got a crush!!!
no subject
Date: 2011-07-07 08:56 pm (UTC)