rakina (rakina) wrote in snape_potter, @ 2009-03-13 21:40:00 |
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Current mood: | relieved |
Entry tags: | fic, rakina, rating: pg |
FIC: Tapestry, by Rakina, PG13, chapter 8/?
Title: Tapestry, A Journey in Eight Stages
Author: Rakina
Rating: This chapter PG, possibly rising to R or NC17 later.
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Summary: Harry only has one thing from his parents: a blanket. But his mum and dad were magical, and so it turns out to be no ordinary blanket, after all.
Beta: A very big thank you to my regular, wonderful beta and remover of my foot from my mouth, hel_bee. And an extra one this time: thank you, dear eriador117, for doing the same.
Disclaimer: I am not making any money from the characters which belong to JK Rowling. No disrespect intended. I do, however, lay claim to the plot and original characters.
Note: Feedback... how I love thee.
Previous chapters here
Chapter 8: The Question Why
~1978~
Raindrops rebounded off the granite paving slabs, angled in such a way that they seemed to be deliberately targeting her ankles, making the hem of her long skirt slap wetly against her legs as she walked. The rain had started about half an hour ago; trickles were running down the back of her neck, making her curse that she'd not worn her hooded cloak over her robes. The rain always made her bones ache; tomorrow her remaining teeth would ache in sympathy too.
Passing a final puddle as she turned toward the doorway, she was under cover, the porch keeping the rain from her head like an umbrella. She reached out with a cold finger and pressed the doorbell. Somewhere far inside the building she thought she heard a faint chime.
The door swung open a crack without a sound. A pair of dark eyes in a pale face looked down at her. The doorkeeper was tall and obviously thin.
"Mother Merryweather," she said, and the door swung wider, opening just enough to let her pass through.
The doorkeeper stood aside, permitting her entrance. The tall, almost skeletal figure held out an arm, indicating a door at the end of the hallway. "They are waiting for you, as requested." His voice was sombre, deep and oddly echoing. The witch decided not to dwell on it; she had her own tricks and respected others'. She hurried along and entered the council room with its round table. She was as out of place as a daisy on a motorway, but she had been given safe passage after she'd sent the owl to them, assuring them they needed to hear her say her sooth. And when she stood there before them and told them what she'd been instructed to say, delivering Fate's message to the dour-faced council members, they agreed with her. So she was paid and sent away unharmed. The event was recorded in their journal, where it would be passed on into history.