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Semantics


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Опубликован:
17.03.2018 — 17.03.2018
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5
Аннотация:
Просто для себя. Никак не могу дочитать из-за технических проблем.
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Technically, Ted was a relative of the Malfoys. Technically, he was Lucius Malfoy's...what? Great-Nephew? Second nephew? What were they called? Anyway, they were related but protecting him if Malfoy was...No. She had no other choice but to take him with her.

"I'm sorry Ted, he will probably be angry as hell but I can't leave you alone, obviously, and I can't not go. He asked me to go. He wants me to come. And I'd be daft not to go, wouldn't I? I mean he probably only wants me to apparate him and then 'stay back' but at least then I could help him and I know I could knock sense into Draco. At least a little. Aideen's probably miserable and I hope he's too. A person cannot change that quickly and if he's too stupid to explain to her calmly what he is and what he does, he needs to be knocked on the head. And he needs to see that Aideen probably only needed a little bit of time. No need to break up over something like that, is it? We have to go. You have apparated before, haven't you?"

"My-Oh-Neeee," he grinned, more drool gathering at the corner of his mouth which she, subconsciously, wiped away with the sleeve of her cardigan as she picked him up and cuddled him close.

"Yes, Ted, Hermione is going to apparate you know and you will not complain and not cry afterwards, please," she almost begged and a moment later, she was gone with a crack.

The boy was more startled, it seemed, than shocked or nauseous. He just babbled something and then smiled at her, and poked a sticky finger in her chin.

"Yes, Ted, you will now meet Snape. And Snape will not like you but he it's his own fault because you're quite cute if you'd stop drooling, that is," she explained and rang the man's door bell, waiting for the storm that would most certainly come over her in a second.

.

At least, Severus thought, she was punctual. At least, she rang her door bell a minute before nine and not eight minutes after. But with apparating, it probably wasn't so difficult to be on time. He had had one and a half days to scold himself over even asking her to come. It wasn't about the apparition, he had asked Eleanor if he could take her car and he would use that (even if he only had tiny grasp on driving and no licence at all but it would do — he had tried after all, she had let him train). If she had a problem with that, it was her problem. It wasn't all that far anyway, two hours at the most and the radio in the car did work. If she asked her head off, he would just turn it on. Some classical station. Or some of the music that some of his former fellow students back when he had been at Hogwarts. He would find something but he would never let her apparate him again — that was completely out of the question. And in all honesty — the thought of Lucius's face if a common, old, Muggle car drove in front of Malfoy Manor magicked an evil smirk on his face. That man would be shocked beyond belief and Draco would hopefully remember that car and the rather embarrassing, but good times he had spent in it.

He walked briskly to the door and opened it slowly.

It was Granger alright — Granger with a giggling, drooling child on her arm.

"What's that?" he asked, the evil smirk he had worn just a second ago, gone completely.

"It's a child," answered Granger, grimacing. "I forgot it was my turn and I couldn't leave Ted with Kreacher. That would have been disastrous."

"Lupin's child," he stated more than asked and took a good, long look at the child who now seemed to have decided to smile and babble at him. Babble literally at him. Lupin's child. No, didn't look like the wolf at all but seemed to have the tendency for colours his mother had. His hair was a bright purple and his eyes were matching. Absolutely ridiculous.

"Yep, Remus's son," Granger said sadly.

"He doesn't look like him," he growled.

"He's a Metamorphmagus. I'm not sure I know what he really looks like," she shrugged on shoulder and the child wobbled on her hip — and seemed to like it. "I, erm, I had no other choice but to bring him. If you don't...but I thought they were all relatives and..." she blushed. She just bloody blushed and he could do nothing but scowl at her blush. He hadn't asked Granger for no reason or because he enjoyed her company or her incessant babbling at him — but indubitably, there would be wards around the Manor and if he was unlucky, both Muggle and Squib wards and if he got caught in one of them, he rather did not want Lucius to find him there, probably dangling like a fly in a spider's web. That was why he was taking her — she listened to him (more or less), she would get him from the wards (if they acted the way he remembered Malfoy's wards to work...) and through them. But with a child with them...he growled low in his throat.

That idiotic Potter, that idiotic Granger. He had given her plenty of time. He had given her almost two days. And she still had to babysit the bloody wolf's pup. Who did not look like a pup but now that his hair was less purple and his eyes were less purple he looked like...

Him.

"Make him change," he snarled, pointing at the child who seemed to try and impersonate him. His hair was black and not so long and not so greasy anymore, his eyes were almost pitch-black (he suspected that the toddler had missed the fact that his eyes were just very, very, very dark brown) and the nose was longer and had a bump. The pup tried to scowl as well, tried to copy him but failed.

"He likes you," she couldn't suppress her sniggering and only cuddled (cuddled!) the brat closer to her chest. Cuddled a mini-version, a tiny, wee mini-version of him. "I'm sorry, I have no idea how to tell him to change his appearance," a giggle escaped her throat and her cheeks were flushed by probably the excitement of seeing him — humiliated.

Humiliated by a mere child whose father he had loathed and whose mother he had belittled through her schooling (or that part of her schooling he had been present) but whom he slowly began to respect. If she didn't knock things over. And Lupin...oh well. He had died. It didn't do him any good to think badly about the dead. Or some dead. Not all of them, naturally.

And it seemed, the humiliation was not completely yet. In fact, as soon as Granger stepped just a little closer, the pup raised his arms, disentangled it from the barely controlled shrubbery on Granger's head and pointed them at him. The pup — Lupin's pup — and yes, Lupin was the man that had almost killed him when they had been teenagers — wanted to be held by him? No.

"No," he said sternly, glaring down at the child.

"Arms," it babbled.

"Speak in complete sentences," he growled, unaware that he was talking to a child who hadn't even yet reached the age of two.

"He can't," laughed Granger and seemed to want to step even closer.

"No," he shook his head again. He was not talking to children and he had only asked Granger to come because he probably (most likely) needed help with the wards around Malfoy Manor and because and not to be forced to hold a drooling child who directed his babbling at people.

"So..." Granger cuddled him close again. "When do we leave? Ted doesn't mind apparation and I'm sure I can take both of you. He's only tiny."

"You will not go," he snarled. "Not with that."

"It's not a that, Snape, it's Ted. Ted Lupin," she spoke slowly and hissed his last name. When had he given her permission to only use his last name? He couldn't remember doing that at all.

"You can't take it with you."

"It? It? It's a boy. B — O — Y. Boy. Not an it. Ted. Ted," she shook her head.

"Fine. You cannot take him with you."

"What then?"

.

In the end, Hermione thought, it had been a rather good idea of hers to ask Eleanor to watch Ted. Ted had warmed to the woman instantly and the older woman had warmed to him — especially since he still looked like a little version of Snape. It was most amusing and rather funny. It was almost a spitting copy, only in the sixteen-month-old version. She should have taken a picture really. Any child of Snape's would surely look like that and she couldn't help but remember the horrified look on Snape's face as Ted wanted to be held by him.

It provoked a giggle. She couldn't help it.

"What's funny now?" the man next to her in the car asked, grumpily, his eyes glued to the road. Of course she hadn't know that Snape could drive, but to be honest, nothing that he would or could do would surprise her anymore. Take down a mad witch with pepper-spray and rope and driving a car. No, nothing would surprise her anymore. Not when it came to Snape. Never again.

"Ted and the way he seemed to channel you," she blurted out. "I mean," she had to back-pedal, bad, bad, bad. It wouldn't do. He'd be offended and would probably throw her from the car any moment now.

He growled again. Well. That sound...she better not think about that sound. It was...sexy. Sexy was the best way to describe it. Not thinking about it. Snape wasn't nice. He was brave, yes, and he demanded a certain amount of respect but he wasn't kind and he wasn't nice and he wasn't groomed and if she thought about it, which she truly didn't want to do, she did like the ungroomedness (different from Charlie anyway) and the unkindness and the witty remarks and he had looked rather...cute...when he had tried to get asf ar away from Ted as he could. Not a good idea to be thinking along this line if she was stuck in that car with that man.

"He's just as idiotic as if father and mother were," he said snarkily, his eyes never once leaving the road they were driving on.

"Neither Remus not Tonks were idiotic," she said, sadly. "I'm kind of glad that Harry now got custody of the child. I mean we can give him a good childhood and Harry loves the boy and he will tell him tales of his parents. I'm not saying his grandmother wouldn't have but...Harry loved and respected Remus and Tonks. Both of them equally. And he will do his best to let him grow up as happy and as content as any child can be. Given his background of course, he would do his best," she stopped herself. She was babbling. Trying to sell a dead man and his dead wife to a man who had loathed both of them.

"Finished?" he growled again. If he could only stop that growl...it was almost like head-Severus was invading her head again. But this wasn't head-Severus. It was Snape. Simply Snape.

"Yes," nodded she, and felt her face growing hot and she knew she was blushing. Again. "Erm, where did you learn to drive?"

"Who said I learned it?" he smirked.

"You didn't?" she shrieked.

"I am obviously capable of driving, Granger. Stop complaining or I'll let you walk back home."

She decided to ignore his quip (having suspected as much) and put a serious face on. "What's the plan?"

"We talk to my godson. The Imbecile. And we find out what his father wants. Truly wants."

"What do I do?" she asked curiously, hoping in the depth of her heart that he didn't say something along the lines of 'stay back'.

"You stay back," he replied immediately.

"No. Snape, no. What did you bring me for? You won't even let me apparate, you won't let me help, but you drag me along?" she almost shrieked.

"Lucius Malfoy is rather inventive when it comes to wards," he said and, never taking his eyes off the road, he fumbled with the radio and turned some classical music louder.

58. Arbitrariness in Argument Realization

When it comes to psych verbs, Dowty (1991: 579-80) points out that pairs such as fear — frighten represent arbitrariness in argument realization. Both fear and frighten have equal Proto-Agent entailments: the sentience of the Experiencer and the causation of Theme/Stimulus. Thus, the two argument are not distinguished by other entailments, and, therefore, it is not clear which one will occupy the subject and while one will occupy the object positions. Either realization at the subject position does not violate any Proto-Agent principle. However, fear and frighten have different entailments when it comes to the Proto-Patient role. These entailments are related to the eventive reading of object-Experiencer verbs extensively observed in the literature. The eventive reading of this verb class is associated with a change of state on the part of Experiencer, which is a Proto-Patient property. Thus, although the two arguments are equal in terms of proto-Agent properties, it is their difference in the Proto-Patient properties that determines their realization. Therefore, in Dowty's terms, causation outranks sentience in determining canonical argument realization.

(Featherston, Winkler, 2009)

So far, he knew he hadn't spent all that much time with Granger and even though it hadn't been his aim, he had already, he thought, figured her out. She spoke when she was nervous, well, speaking was an overstatement, babbling was rather more apt, and after about three minutes of Bach on the radio, her rigid back went slacker and she almost slouched in the car seat. Or maybe it was because he had not yet run over anything, had not yet had an accident or came to close to any people on bicycles or motorbikes or anything else that should not really be on any street anyhow.

And after another three minutes of any other composer he couldn't place immediately, she had her eyes closed and a minute later, began to hum.

Hum.

In his car. Well, technically not his car but the principle was the same. She hummed and he was driving.

"Granger," he growled. "Could you stop making that terrible noise?"

"What noise?" she opened her eyes lazily (he thought since he kept his eyes on the road).

"Humming," snarled he.

"I'm not humming," she replied immediately.

He said nothing to that. Of course she wasn't humming now. Now she was...speaking and looking at him, probably. And her back went rigid again and she sat as if the seat was made off nails. He smirked. At least she was quiet now. And quiet was good because turning the music louder was not truly an option. Turning the music any louder would blast his ears off.

"Snape, if you don't want me here, why did you ask me?"

"I told you why I asked you," he said, then groaned quietly.

"The wards," she huffed. "I'm just the idiot who does the dirty work."

Despite his ears, despite the potential deafness, Mozart was turned louder. And if she hummed any more, he would look for another station. Even if it was the stuff that Aideen said was fun...Death Metal.

.

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, nibbled on it and stared at the building looming there in front of her. Idiotic her — had so far only thought about the fact that Draco and Aideen needed to make up and not about the fact that this was Malfoy Manor.

If she had remembered...

If she had remembered, thought about, she would be at home with Ted at this moment and suddenly, his order to 'stay back' didn't sound so bad altogether. Remaining behind in the car would be a good idea as well. Some of the muscles in her back had begun to cramp, or so it felt like. No, it felt like a vertebra should snap back into place but because it wouldn't, she wasn't able to draw a deep breath.

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