Dolores Umbridge, I Love You - Part Four
Aug. 23rd, 2011 12:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
teddy_radiatorSorry Droxy, no crack!fic yet:
Title: Dolores Umbridge, I Love You - Part Four
Rating: NC-17 overall, but Part Four- PG
Length: 880/8849
Pairing: SS/HG
Summary: Sometimes, all you need is a little Murtlap essence...
Warnings: Character Death, Explicit Sexual Content overall, but Part Four- Elegant Insults
Going back to school to finish her NEWTs had been a mistake. Hermione realised it within two weeks of returning to Hogwarts. All of her peers were gone; not one Gryffindor from her year had returned. In the almost-two years since the Battle, Harry, Ron and the rest of her class had accepted the Ministry’s honorary degrees and proceeded on with their lives. When asked why in Merlin’s name she wanted to return to school, Hermione stated emphatically that she wanted to finish what she started.
And this was partly true. She loved academics; she loved the feeling of being clever and discovering a new way of using a plant or finding a better method of performing a charm, a more efficient shortcut to Transfiguration. She loved the simple joy of reading something complex and understanding it, and she loved imparting her wisdom as well. When she was a youngster, it had made her carry around labels like bookworm, brains, and the infamous know-it-all, but as an adult, it made her an instructor, and she seriously considered applying for a position in the field of education.
And there was the parallel reality that she simply wanted to see him, to keep an eye on him. She wanted to make sure he not only survived, which she knew from experience was surprisingly easy, but also lived, which she had also discovered could be much more difficult.
And she wanted to help him. He seemed so lost, so unthere. It was as if he was cut from negative space at times. He was not the same teacher who bullied his students into a pulp, but Hermione missed even that. At least he had taken some perverse pleasure in debasement and intimidation; this Severus Snape no longer took pleasure in anything. He was no longer an angry, bitter man; he was no longer three dimensional.
As much as she loved Hogwarts and learning, Hermione found herself increasingly bored, listless and frustrated. Every one of her teachers treated her like she was some sort of holy relic and practically couldn’t be bothered to attempt to teach her anything. As far as they were concerned, she knew everything she needed to know.
And they were tired. The past two years had been hellishly hard on them as well. They frankly weren’t up to the job of trying to find new and more difficult ways to challenge the intellect of Hogwarts’ currently most famous pupil. They wanted time to regroup, and all of them tended to let things slide with her, and treated her like a valued and much loved pet.
Well, almost everyone one of them. Professor Snape, who had (so gossip intimated) reluctantly returned as the Potions professor, treated her like a piece of wood. He looked straight through her, and when she tried to participate in class, he blatantly ignored her. Sometimes, she felt like a ghost in his class. He simply would not acknowledge her presence at all.
She could not understand why he insisted on treating her like she was a non-entity, until the day he suggested they experiment using varying ratios of St. Johns Wort to Valerian instead of Silverleaf pod, in the making of the common-or-garden Calming Draught.
“But Professor,” she began, her voice low and insistent, “If you balanced the St. Johns Wort with valerian properly, it is cheaper to produce, but would the uneven results you inevitably obtain be more cost prohibitive in the long run?”
Professor Snape had looked at her for exactly seven seconds. She counted them. He then turned to his class and announced, “Experimentation is the catalyst for greatness. It is one thing to think you have all the answers, but it is another to realise that, while your theories are sound, they are meaningless, unless you are willing to risk your reputation, perhaps even your life on them.
“A potioneer who is afraid to experiment will soon stagnate. If he is content to rest on his laurels he can earn modest success. Even a dilettante can impress his customers if he convinces them he is impressive. From there, he will rapidly enter the realm of charlatan in the eyes of his peers.” He paused, and looked over her left shoulder. “Rather like taking your NEWTs in every subject because you know your professors will pass you because of your reputation, not your true ability.”
He turned away, and Hermione face burned.
She realised that he truly believed that granting her the oxygen of acknowledgement would mean he would be forced to treat her with the same unproductive regard as her other teachers. And perhaps that she wanted and expected him to, as well. As much as it dismayed her, Hermione was convinced of it. She had heard of cutting one’s nose off to spite one’s face, but she’d never known anyone to cut off another person’s nose because that person was seen as not deserving of it.
It also occurred to Hermione in more self-assured moments that he might simply be afraid. Afraid that if he acknowledged her, he’d have to acknowledge that she helped to save his life, and he would have to start living again. She felt better for having figured out his disregard for her, but merely understanding Severus Snape was not necessarily helpful in getting him to understand himself.
Title: Dolores Umbridge, I Love You - Part Four
Rating: NC-17 overall, but Part Four- PG
Length: 880/8849
Pairing: SS/HG
Summary: Sometimes, all you need is a little Murtlap essence...
Warnings: Character Death, Explicit Sexual Content overall, but Part Four- Elegant Insults
Going back to school to finish her NEWTs had been a mistake. Hermione realised it within two weeks of returning to Hogwarts. All of her peers were gone; not one Gryffindor from her year had returned. In the almost-two years since the Battle, Harry, Ron and the rest of her class had accepted the Ministry’s honorary degrees and proceeded on with their lives. When asked why in Merlin’s name she wanted to return to school, Hermione stated emphatically that she wanted to finish what she started.
And this was partly true. She loved academics; she loved the feeling of being clever and discovering a new way of using a plant or finding a better method of performing a charm, a more efficient shortcut to Transfiguration. She loved the simple joy of reading something complex and understanding it, and she loved imparting her wisdom as well. When she was a youngster, it had made her carry around labels like bookworm, brains, and the infamous know-it-all, but as an adult, it made her an instructor, and she seriously considered applying for a position in the field of education.
And there was the parallel reality that she simply wanted to see him, to keep an eye on him. She wanted to make sure he not only survived, which she knew from experience was surprisingly easy, but also lived, which she had also discovered could be much more difficult.
And she wanted to help him. He seemed so lost, so unthere. It was as if he was cut from negative space at times. He was not the same teacher who bullied his students into a pulp, but Hermione missed even that. At least he had taken some perverse pleasure in debasement and intimidation; this Severus Snape no longer took pleasure in anything. He was no longer an angry, bitter man; he was no longer three dimensional.
As much as she loved Hogwarts and learning, Hermione found herself increasingly bored, listless and frustrated. Every one of her teachers treated her like she was some sort of holy relic and practically couldn’t be bothered to attempt to teach her anything. As far as they were concerned, she knew everything she needed to know.
And they were tired. The past two years had been hellishly hard on them as well. They frankly weren’t up to the job of trying to find new and more difficult ways to challenge the intellect of Hogwarts’ currently most famous pupil. They wanted time to regroup, and all of them tended to let things slide with her, and treated her like a valued and much loved pet.
Well, almost everyone one of them. Professor Snape, who had (so gossip intimated) reluctantly returned as the Potions professor, treated her like a piece of wood. He looked straight through her, and when she tried to participate in class, he blatantly ignored her. Sometimes, she felt like a ghost in his class. He simply would not acknowledge her presence at all.
She could not understand why he insisted on treating her like she was a non-entity, until the day he suggested they experiment using varying ratios of St. Johns Wort to Valerian instead of Silverleaf pod, in the making of the common-or-garden Calming Draught.
“But Professor,” she began, her voice low and insistent, “If you balanced the St. Johns Wort with valerian properly, it is cheaper to produce, but would the uneven results you inevitably obtain be more cost prohibitive in the long run?”
Professor Snape had looked at her for exactly seven seconds. She counted them. He then turned to his class and announced, “Experimentation is the catalyst for greatness. It is one thing to think you have all the answers, but it is another to realise that, while your theories are sound, they are meaningless, unless you are willing to risk your reputation, perhaps even your life on them.
“A potioneer who is afraid to experiment will soon stagnate. If he is content to rest on his laurels he can earn modest success. Even a dilettante can impress his customers if he convinces them he is impressive. From there, he will rapidly enter the realm of charlatan in the eyes of his peers.” He paused, and looked over her left shoulder. “Rather like taking your NEWTs in every subject because you know your professors will pass you because of your reputation, not your true ability.”
He turned away, and Hermione face burned.
She realised that he truly believed that granting her the oxygen of acknowledgement would mean he would be forced to treat her with the same unproductive regard as her other teachers. And perhaps that she wanted and expected him to, as well. As much as it dismayed her, Hermione was convinced of it. She had heard of cutting one’s nose off to spite one’s face, but she’d never known anyone to cut off another person’s nose because that person was seen as not deserving of it.
It also occurred to Hermione in more self-assured moments that he might simply be afraid. Afraid that if he acknowledged her, he’d have to acknowledge that she helped to save his life, and he would have to start living again. She felt better for having figured out his disregard for her, but merely understanding Severus Snape was not necessarily helpful in getting him to understand himself.
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no subject
Date: 2011-08-23 04:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-23 12:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-23 05:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-23 06:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-23 10:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-23 11:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-23 11:53 pm (UTC)That last paragraph pretty much sums it up. Because 97% of all fanfic pretty much boils down to that last line. =)
no subject
Date: 2011-08-24 12:56 am (UTC)I think, perhaps, that he seems so one-dimentional now because he had truly believed that he was going to die, had resigned himself to the fact... hell, maybe even looked forward to it, after the life he's had. To have a second chance at life... perhaps he just didn't feel up to the challenge. I mean, he could do anything he wants to now, he no longer has to answer to Dumbledore OR Voldemort. And what does he do with his life? He goes back to teaching -- a job that he quite obviously hated. It's as if coming up with ideas of what to do next with his life was just too exhausting for him.
no subject
Date: 2011-08-24 03:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-24 03:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-24 03:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-24 03:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-24 02:33 pm (UTC)*hangs head in embarrassment and walks away.*
no subject
Date: 2011-08-24 02:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-24 02:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-04 04:31 pm (UTC)*runs to read more*