( for a moment — a very brief one — seeing him is enough to pitch her headfirst back to first year. she's a child again, so full of hope and wonder and awe, and professor snape is just as angry, just as irritated as she remembers him being. it's enough to ratchet her pulse up several ticks, until it rabbits against her ribcage —
and then he strides past her, and that gives her enough room to blink, to force the image away and recognize the differences. he may have been scowling at her, as always, but he'd seemed better. less thin, less sallow, more like he's had a decent meal or two in the past ten years. he's even ditched the voluminous black robes that'd defined him at hogwarts. rallying, she tosses her head and presses the door shut behind him, locking it and then absently resetting the ward, a buzz of her magic settling over the door. they're as safe as they possibly can be in her flat, layers of wards of her own creation as well as more traditional magical alarms and reinforcements in place.
turning, she meets his eyes as he finally looks at her — and stiffens. law-abiding. it crawls under her skin, burrows. only he would throw that at her as an insult; if anything, ron and harry would be of the opinion she was too law-abiding, too ethical. but when the law was complete and utter bollocks... )
Not for lack of trying, ( she growls, raising her chin defiantly. i will not let him bully me. not about this. not now. ) I can't believe Kingsley would do this. It's ridiculous, not to mention unethical, and —
( hermione cuts herself off, takes a deep breath that might even be cleansing. prof — no, just snape, that's neutral, isn't it? — hadn't come here to hear her wax on about her issues with the law. waving a hand, she bustles to one side where there is a neat, albeit very cramped, kitchenette and an electric kettle on. she fusses with two teacups for am moment, grateful to put her back to him for a moment to collect herself. )
There is no loophole that I could find, and I've spent the last week in the Archives looking for one. ( she says finally, throwing a glance over one shoulder to find him still lingering in her living room. snape. in her living room. merlin. ) What about you? You're here, too.
( implication being: you haven't found a way out of it either, have you? )
no worries! i understand and frequently backtag! 💖
and then he strides past her, and that gives her enough room to blink, to force the image away and recognize the differences. he may have been scowling at her, as always, but he'd seemed better. less thin, less sallow, more like he's had a decent meal or two in the past ten years. he's even ditched the voluminous black robes that'd defined him at hogwarts. rallying, she tosses her head and presses the door shut behind him, locking it and then absently resetting the ward, a buzz of her magic settling over the door. they're as safe as they possibly can be in her flat, layers of wards of her own creation as well as more traditional magical alarms and reinforcements in place.
turning, she meets his eyes as he finally looks at her — and stiffens. law-abiding. it crawls under her skin, burrows. only he would throw that at her as an insult; if anything, ron and harry would be of the opinion she was too law-abiding, too ethical. but when the law was complete and utter bollocks... )
Not for lack of trying, ( she growls, raising her chin defiantly. i will not let him bully me. not about this. not now. ) I can't believe Kingsley would do this. It's ridiculous, not to mention unethical, and —
( hermione cuts herself off, takes a deep breath that might even be cleansing. prof — no, just snape, that's neutral, isn't it? — hadn't come here to hear her wax on about her issues with the law. waving a hand, she bustles to one side where there is a neat, albeit very cramped, kitchenette and an electric kettle on. she fusses with two teacups for am moment, grateful to put her back to him for a moment to collect herself. )
There is no loophole that I could find, and I've spent the last week in the Archives looking for one. ( she says finally, throwing a glance over one shoulder to find him still lingering in her living room. snape. in her living room. merlin. ) What about you? You're here, too.
( implication being: you haven't found a way out of it either, have you? )