Alright, so, she had to admit to herself that it was a nice feeling to have his hand in hers or hers in his. His fingers were warm and manly and his hand big and protective but in the end, she knew it was a game to him. Bring Granger to madness, he probably called it. But she wouldn't. She would finish this, would give him his magic back and then disappear from his life. If Harry and Ron weren't willing to help, she would have to help herself and keeping away seemed to be the best of options.
He held her hand tightly, just as she squeezed his fingers during apparition. It wouldn't do to lose him halfway across the country. Imagine losing him somewhere and then having to go look for him — in such exotic places as Birmingham or Cheltenham. She focused on her apparition as she had done the night before during her practice and she held his hand tightly. This time, she would land on her feet and he would land on his feet.
It was over before it began, really and a split second later, she truly did land on her feet, even if she was slightly bend over but there was still a hand in hers and even if she had splinched him, she got to keep his hand. Carefully, she looked to her left and there he stood. On two feet. Upright. Good, she thought. That wouldn't give him more ammunition, hopefully.
Hermione wanted to pull her hand away now. It was confusing and it was dreadful and she just wanted to let go and be on her own. She did not hold hands, she disliked being led somewhere but for a moment, it almost seemed like he did not want to let go and for a moment, it almost felt like he wanted to pull her hand up to his face and kiss, with his lips, her hand. But only for a moment. Only briefly before he, non-smirking, non-sneering, non-scowling, let go off her hand.
She swallowed thickly. He would have to go from her life. Yes, now, it was still her self-imposed duty to find the counter-curse but as soon as that was achieved, or as soon as she could openly admit defeat, she would be gone from his life. She would make her apologies to Aideen and to Draco but she couldn't, under any circumstances, see him again. It was utter madness. She had let herself be played with for too long a time anyway. This was over. No more games. Just her being reasonable and him being snarky. That would do.
"He really golfs," said Snape incredulously, a moment later.
"What?" she asked, pushed away rudely from her thought-process.
"Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy, over there," he inclined his head towards the front of the manor and there stood a man. A man in plaid trousers and with long, silvery hair in a ponytail, swinging a golf club.
"It can't be Malfoy," she replied.
"If you cannot see that that's Malfoy, I suggest you see an optician. Or an ophthalmologist. Or another eye doctor," he said softly.
"Why's Malfoy golfing?" she asked, taking a few steps towards the supposed Pureblood-obsessed man.
"His new flame, you could say," replied Snape, smirking brightly.
"What? Did you...huh? Is that...a woman? With him? There?" she squinted. Maybe she did need glasses. She blinked rapidly a few times. Maybe what her mother had told her was finally coming true. Maybe she shouldn't have read all those nights with only a electric torch, or later her wand, underneath her duvet in bed. Maybe her eyes had finally caught up with...what a thing to think about, she chided herself gently. She would test her vision, and if necessary would go see someone about glasses but the sight in front of her, now that she had stepped, with Snape by her side, a little closer was worth a shrink instead of an optician. "Who is that?"
Snape sighed. "A far as I remember, her name is Gwendolyn Something-Or-Other. Viscountess Brackley."
"Viscountess?" she almost cried out loud.
"Yes," he drawled.
"Lucius Malfoy golfing with a Viscountess. Lucius Malfoy who almost killed me because I am a Mudblood is golfing intimately," she gestured towards the couple which, by now, stood embracing, "with a Muggle Viscountess?"
They didn't only embrace. Malfoy had moved behind this woman and seemed to grind his plaid trousers into her backside. Or parts of his plaid — plaid! — trousers. This wasn't happening. Whatever this was, and as weird and as strange as the entire Wizarding World could be — this was an alternate universe. This wasn't happening. She hadn't apparated with Snape holding her hand, and Harry and Ron had not reacted almost happily about her telling them about her crush on the man who had held her hand during apparition and Malfoy was not golfing with a Muggle Viscountess who seemed to rub her own backside against the front of Malfoy's plaid trousers.
She shook her head and looked around. There. A tree. She could lean against it for a moment and maybe she would be transported back into reality. Out of this nightmarish, strange dream. Pinching her arm, she wobbled to the tree and pressed both her hands and her forehead to the trunk, breathing in the earthy, wooden scent of the tree.
"Granger!" Snape hissed but since this wasn't happening at all, since she was probably at this moment in the Janus Thickey Ward anyway, she didn't have to listen to those voices. Or to this voice only. Chocolatey, rich, soft, gentle voice.
"Granger, for heaven's sake. He just decided that he needs to stop the inbreeding," he hissed again, the voice coming nearer and nearer. There was a sigh behind her and a bit of warm air brushing against her ear and her neck. "Granger, don't be stupid. It does look strange but he just follows his own reasoning. He..."
"I'm going crazy. I'm standing here solidly on my own two hands and going crazy," she muttered.
"You're not crazy and this is really happening," his voice spoke directly into her ear. No, that wasn't happening either. "Granger! Pull yourself together. There is a simple explanation. You're behaving irrationally."
"I'm behaving irrationally because I'm crazy now. Lucius Malfoy golfing? That's clearly tipped me over the edge now. I mean...this is the indicator that I already fell over the edge."
Snape, or someone in the Janus Thickey Ward dealing with her and her hallucinations, grasped her shoulders and turned her around. No, it was Snape. Looking at her.
"Pull yourself together. You are no crazy and you have not gone over the edge or around the bend or any other synonym for crazy."
"It's Lucius Malfoy. In plaid trousers. Golfing. With a Viscountess," she answered seriously.
"I know. I should have told you beforehand, even though Draco could have mentioned his father's new hobby, or occupation but what you see is real and you're not crazy," he said calmly. "He found a book of mine which deals with the effects of inbreeding in pureblood society and decided that with his two sisters-in-law effectively crazy, he needed fresh blood in the family. Enter Viscountess Brackley or whatever her name is who is, according to him, the best age for breeding and his newly found affection for Muggle sports."
Hermione rubbed her eyes, her arms still trapped by his hands holding onto her shoulders. This was real. She had just — once more — made a complete fool out of herself. No hallucination. Reality. Stranger than fiction. "He...and...breeding...children...insa...what?"
.
Severus rolled his eyes. If she kept on going like this, he would have to slap her. And he was against slapping women. He didn't slap women. Granted, he was a little shocked to see Malfoy and his horse playing golf and having close contact outside the Manor but not so shocked as to question reality and claim to have hallucinations. But at least he had know for his new affinity — and she hadn't. And with him grasping her hand as well, she would think he was transporting her to another plane of existence. An upside-down world.
On the other hand, and he didn't quite admit it to himself, she did look rather cute, rubbing her eyes and trying to see clearly and trying to judge whether she was truly going insane. Her eyes had grown bigger and bigger and even a little fearful and he hadn't been able to hold her back when she had been close to smashing her head against the trunk of the tree.
"Look, Granger, it's simple. I know it looks strange but Draco will be able to confirm all this. As far as I know, those two, erm, rutting almost over there, Lucius Malfoy and his Viscountess have an understanding..."
"That sounds positively Austenesque," she muttered.
"Positively, yes, but that's the way it is and she, as far as I know, doesn't know he's a Wizard. It's Lucius's logic and we try not to get pulled into it too much. Otherwise you will really find yourself at the other end of sane. Understood?"
She nodded slowly, observing the scene before her. "But he...Snape, he almost killed me and plenty of others..."
"The most important thing for Malfoy is his name and the continuance of his family line. He considers Draco unstable already and he figures he needs another heir. With a Muggle woman, he gets a healthy child and apart from that a lot of money from her estate..."
She nodded eagerly, all of a sudden. "I see."
"Now you see?"
"Well, yes, I think," she frowned and he only noticed now that his hands were still holding onto her upper arms and he let them fall as if they were being burnt by the contact. She looked at him and nodded. "Yes. He pretends to be a Muggle or a Mugglelover in order to be...well, to get money. That I can understand."
"Yes," he drawled. "Now, is your little fit over?" he sneered at her, making her grimace.
"Sorry. I don't know what came over me."
"It's the plaid, I believe," his sneer morphed into a smirk and a moment later, she chuckled.
"Lucius Malfoy in plaid. Why didn't I take my camera?" she wondered aloud before she took another few steps towards the man in question and his horse.
"Because he had enough bad press to last a lifetime. Shall we then?"
She grinned, taking a deep breath. "Let's shall."
77. Expressives
Expressives are those kinds of speech acts that state what the speaker feels. They express psychological states and can be statements of pleasure, pain, likes, dislikes, joy, or sorrow. As illustrated, they can be caused by something the speaker does or the hearer does, but they are about the speaker's experience:
a. I'm really sorry!
b. Congratulations!
c. oh, yes, great, mmmmmm, ssahhh!
(Yule, 1996)
"Lucius," said Severus as soon as the two — how should he call them? Lovers? — spotted him and Granger walking towards them.
"Severus. Miss Granger," he replied, sounding honestly surprised. "What brings you here? May I introduce the Viscountess Brackley?"
Severus nodded curtly, trying to hide his smirk. This woman did look like a horse. Well, maybe it was his prejudices, the only thing his father had passed on to him, the absolute loathing of upper classes. It had absolutely no foundation in any experiences — just something Tobias Snape had preached. Every day.
"Gwendolyn," Lucius said gently and softly to her, "this is Severus Snape and, erm, Hermione Granger. Acquaintances of mine."
"It's a pleasure to meet you," the horse said, sounding very posh. She was blonde, naturally, and her nose was too long and her eyes sort of bulged and compared to Granger, she was absolutely ugly. She was tall, yes,and her limbs were long but her fingers short, there was no chin, there was a bump on her nose and her eyes were the palest blue he had ever seen. Her skin was even paler than his and she wore this absolutely horrifyingly happy smile on her face that made him cringe. Actually, it matched Lucius's absolutely horrifyingly happy smile and that made him want to vomit. Seriously — even if he should find himself, one day, in love with someone (which he doubted), or loving someone (which he doubted as well), he would never, ever, wear such a smile on his face. He doubted he even had the facial muscles required to smile like that.
Oh, and she had abnormally large feet. Or only abnormally large shoes. He had only briefly looked at the ground, then his eyes were somehow drawn to Granger next to him. Woman hadn't yet quite got her bearings back it seemed. Or she was just astonished, as he was, at the stupid, silly smiles on their faces. He should have probably prepared her — but he didn't think they'd walk upon such a display. Or even on Lucius practising golf. Otherwise, he probably would have prepared her, told her. But as he cast her a sideways glance, he could see that she pulled herself up and straight and took a deep breath.
"Lucius," she said suddenly and with a very fake smile on her face and the blonde Pureblood's eyes went wide for a moment and his own smile vanished. "Viscountess."
"Call me Gwendolyn," the horse said pleasantly. Or what she thought was pleasant.
"Hermione," Granger smiled.
"Lucius, we came for your library," he said, wanting to stop that charade and getting down to business.
"Library? Why?" the horse shook her head. "I thought your library..."
"Gwendolyn-mine, it's probably for Severus's job and you're not interested in," he paused just the tiniest second, "Linguistics."
"No, of course not," the horse laughed. Like a horse. "I couldn't believe how many books Luci had on the subject. And on medicine and he has plenty of books. You would know of course if you came here specifically for the library," she giggled stupidly. "Did you park your car up the road to save the lawn?"
"Yes," Severus said quickly. He hadn't expected Lucius (Luci? Really?) to tell that woman that he was a Wizard just yet but to go to such lengths as to completely change the covers of his books — this had to be serious. At least so serious that she had spent some time in his house.
"We didn't want to ruin the lawn," said Granger nicely. "Lucius," she put heavy emphasis on the name, "may we go into the library? Wouldn't want to impose..."
"Upon your time," finished Severus, smirking at Lucius. Granger was playing this rather well and had, obviously, quickly reacted to her shock and had pulled herself together. Lucius's shocked face at hearing her say his first name was something to think about for the wizard.
"Yes," Granger smiled sweetly, "we can find out way in, if you don't mind."
"You've been here before?" asked the horse.
"A few times. I'm friends with Lucius's son," she explained and Lucius, almost immediately, paled. Oh. Another secret...
"Son?"
"I'm his son's godfather," smirked Severus. Hiding being a wizard was just as well, hiding books was alright but hiding his own son — that wasn't on.
"I told you about him," he almost — almost — stuttered.
"No," the horse said, almost outraged.
"He doesn't live with me anymore. He lives with..."
"Me," interrupted Severus. This was fun. Lucius had made plenty of mistakes. Too many mistakes for someone who claimed to have a Slytherin mind and who had seemed to have even planned the plan to catch himself a Muggle woman. And Granger had begun seeing through those mistakes just a little earlier than he had. Had probably thought she could tip the entire thing off balance by using the first name and a rather pretty smile and had then used the son. Severus had to give it to her, for someone who had been blatantly obvious through all her time at school, she was developing some quite unobvious tactics to, well, basically humiliate him, unmasking him, showing him up. Remarkable.
