|melusin (melusin) wrote in melusin_la_fey,|
@ 2009-10-01 15:18:00
|Entry tags:||merlin's_amulet, ss/hg|
Merlin's Amulet: Chapter 4
My conclusion to wrap up the prompts. Warning: Extreme silliness ahead.
For sylvanawood, who puts up with my whinging and keeps me going when I'm ready to throw in the towel.
Thanks, as ever, to Septentrion for the beta.
Hermione had always liked wrestling with a good mystery, but only when she could eventually solve it, and this one was proving impossible to get a handle on. Huffing a stray curl out of the way, she smoothed out the parchment in front of her, wondering how best to phrase the letter so it would cause the least offence.
Having spent a fruitless day trudging around some of the biggest book shops in Muggle London—as well as some of the smaller, specialist establishments—she had been unable to find a trace of the elusive ‘Harry Potter’ books. ‘You can buy them anywhere,’ the lady in Chicago had replied politely to her enquiry. Her friend had stared at her as if she were a creature from another planet.
‘Not in London, you can’t,’ Hermione muttered, dipping her quill into the inkwell. It made no sense, but if there were an explanation, she’d bet her Order of Merlin that Severus knew more than he was letting on. He’d been terribly evasive, changing the subject each time she brought it up, trying to distract her with his kisses, and...
‘Yes, you’re an expert in diversionary tactics, Severus Snape. I’ll give you that.’ She grinned and began to write:
How’s your week going? Mine is proving increasingly frustrating since I can’t get that stupid exhibition out of my head. I’ve tried unsuccessfully to get my hands on those books. No one seems to have ever heard of Harry Potter, despite what they said in Chicago, which is perhaps something of a relief. However, I work in the Department of Mysteries for a reason, and I have a horrible feeling that there might be some Dark forces at work here. Is there anything, anything at all, you can think of that might shed some light on this? I’d really appreciate your help as I’m at my wits end and don’t know where to turn.
Looking forward to seeing you on Saturday. Can’t wait to try your cooking. Shall I bring some wine?
There, she thought, spelling the ink dry. That should do the trick. I appealed to his better nature to come clean and managed not to call him a liar in the process.
Her office owl hooted, flapping its wings as she attached the parchment to its leg. ‘Off you go, Aristotle, and don’t take any crap from him. Remember, you’re on official business; he can’t refuse to let you in...’