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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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"I'm sorry I mentioned the owl but I doubt a postman could find Malfoy Manor," she said without looking at him as she carried Ted outside the back door and apparated away.

.

Severus had nothing else to do. Eleanor was lost in her own thoughts, Aideen was upstairs being angry with Granger and Draco and quite possibly the entire world as well as him and he just wanted to forget being back at the Manor, forget that his godson didn't want to talk to him. Wanted to forget that he did not want those two to be together and at the same time, wanted both of them happy. He wanted them to be happy — and if possible, happy together — but he couldn't see that happening. Not with Lucius being overly impressed by one silly book and him thinking women were supposed to be only there to carry children and bring them into the world. If Lucius kept that opinion and if Lucius didn't see that women were to be respected, and not used, Aideen would never have a chance of happiness — and neither was his godson. Not together.

And how would that look , he thought as he made his way to the woman he did, er, well, use, a family meeting, Lucius amongst all the Callaghans. No, he couldn't imagine it, not for the life of him. And neither could he imagine Annie Deveney in between all them.

He snorted at himself. Preaching one thing and doing the exact opposite. Granted, he didn't use her as a broodmare but...

No, he didn't want to think about that now. He wanted to be selfish for once. He had tried to fix things, had tried to see through all this for the sake of others. Now, he wanted, for an hour or two, think only about himself and what he needed and wanted. Nothing else.

.

A pair of eyes were focused on the dark-clad man and silent steps followed him as he walked along the rows of houses. A body hid in the shadows when the dark-clad man in the leather jacket stopped and knocked on a door and within that body, something constricted and a pair of eyebrows arched, when a pair of eyes fell on a very pretty, brunette woman.

61. Gossip

When woman talk to each other, the term gossip is often used to describe their activity, and in popular parlance this term is negatively loaded (it is rarely said of a group of men that they are gossiping). In anthropology and sociolinguistics, however no negative connotations are attached to the term gossip, which is used to refer to 'informal communication between member of a social group (Coates 1986/1993: 115). Gossip has the important function of maintaining the group's unity, morals and values (D. Jones 1980), and contains all the features that characterise women's way of interacting in conversation. It is a form of interaction which increases and reflects solidarity and support, and in which expressions intended to reflect or gain power for a speaker have no place.

These gender-related differences in speech patterns are acquired by children as they learn to speak (Coates 1986/1993; chapter 7), just as other gender stereotypes (how boys should be behave and how girls should behave) and cultural values in general are learned along with language.

(Malmkjaer, 1991)

Miss Pike was Catholic. She was proud to be Catholic. In church, she met a lot of other Catholic woman and it was always good to talk to them. On Sundays, at church, or on any other day when she met one of the woman (and men) who went to church with her. Miss Pike liked to hear the news. She liked to remain informed about what was going on and Miss Pike had, in all honesty, not much else to do. Never married, never even close (well, there was talk that there had once been a man with piercing blue eyes that her sister, the late Miss Pike, had driven away but maybe it was just talk, nobody knew), and by now, in her early sixties, not even interested in getting married or having a companion appealed to her. Miss Pike was happy with her role as knowing all the news and passing them from person to person.

Miss Pike liked her dark-blue striped shirts and plain blue skirts, her sensible Oxfords, and she always made it a point to cut her own hair rather short. She was a bit chubby but since she wore those sensible dresses with the stripes, she knew it wasn't too bad. Sometimes, she had difficulties walking but news and her nice Oxfords helped.

If Miss Pike didn't hear news, she was often grumpy and moody and snapping at people. As such, other people tried to keep her from being grumpy and moody and told her news.

But Miss Pike, tall and strongly built and underlining that by her striped shirts and blouses and plain blue skirts and sensible Oxfords, always made it a point of directly confronting those about whom she had news. She didn't want to tell untruths. Not at all. Never.

And so, because she had heard from Julia and Katherine Smith that something strange had happened to Eleanor Callaghan's granddaughter, on this Tuesday morning, Miss Anita Pike took the rather long hike up to Spinner's End. Oh, that Snape boy lived there again, she remembered. But that was old news. It had been interesting for a while, Eileen and Tobias's son returning for good but now they were used to him. And he never went to church. Was he Catholic? Miss Pike didn't know. Eleanor Callaghan had made it quite clear that the Snape boy was out of bounds and that they should leave him alone. And oddly enough, Eleanor Callaghan's word carried some weight. She was old, after all and had seen a lot. Had celebrated her 83rd birthday, already and still walked to church every Sunday and still drove her little Panda.

But Eleanor Callaghan would not like her coming to her house. But — if something had really happened to her granddaughter, it would be only right to bring by the chocolates. And flowers. And both of that, Miss Pike carried. It was always better to bring something. It softened people. But Eleanor Callaghan, was a tough one. Eleanor Callaghan had her own view of things and if she decided to not like you, she didn't like you. Eleanor Callaghan didn't like Miss Pike.

And Eleanor Callaghan was just as big a gossip, if not bigger, than Miss Anita Pike.

Still — Miss Pike wanted to know the truth about Eleanor Callaghan's granddaughter having had an accident (those were the rumours — a strange accident — a rape on other accounts and a kidnapping on yet another account) and whether she told other people or not remained yet to be seen. That, however, didn't change the fact that she was ever so slightly nervous about knocking on Eleanor Callaghan's door. That woman was truly respected.

.

Hermione woke in a cold sweat and there was really, she thought, no reason for that. Her first day at Uni had gone extraordinarily well. She had learned, apart from the obvious, theoretical parts, what she could do with a BA, or an MA in Maths and she was, well, rather happy with it. And the rest of the lectures (four others, in total — nobody did so much) were rather interesting, and lovely, as well. There was a long list of books she had to acquire, or copy, but that wasn't the reason to wake up in an almost blind panic.

No, the cold sweat and the panic had more to do with...nightmares. She was familiar with them. She had them regularly. Herself being killed by Bellatrix, others killed by Bellatrix, herself watching herself being tortured, or pretending she was Bellatrix and scared to death, herself...basically, she was reliving what had happened in her life, her recent past, in her dreams.

This one had been different, at least as far as she could remember.

What she could remember was...herself and Snape. Both of them. But not in mortal peril. Both of them together. Well, not really. Herself asleep on a sofa or a couch. His couch, upon further inspection. She, asleep on his couch and him there, waking her. Him, Snape, kneeling on the floor next to the couch or sofa, his couch, kissing her nose softly, then kissing her eyebrows softly, and waking her, saying 'Wake up, my love, my life'..

Utter rubbish. Oh but that dream...it had been almost too real.

He had knelt there in that dream and had kissed her, brushed her hair away, had spoken so softly and had help her and had kissed her and... he had called her his love and his life.

Utter rot. Rot. Rubbish.

She had to focus on Uni, on maths, and definitely not on Snape and how gently he could possibly be — in her dreams. My love, my life.

Pathetic. It was truly pathetic to think something. And based only upon...what? A hand on her arm? A gentle look in his eyes? A weird undertone to his voice? Consoling her — more or less obviously.

Based on nothing.

But...no. It had been a dream, triggered by thinking about him and by thinking about what he did and how his first at uni was and...it was all easily explainable. Very simple. Oh but her stomach hurt and her head hurt and she had to get ready to go to uni and she was worried how to see him again.

Aideen didn't want to talk to her anymore and Hermione hadn't dared to email her either. She had been tempted. Every time since she had apparated home with Ted when she had just left her sitting, Hermione had thought about emailing her. Or texting her. Just asking how she was — but something had held her back. Aideen was still in shock about the entire Wizard-thing and Hermione couldn't blame her. It would be naturally difficult for her and she felt that she had put her foot in her mouth too many times already.

She dragged herself out of bed though, knowing she would have plenty of time for a shower and for a quick chat over breakfast with Harry and Ron. She had to admit that she quite enjoyed living with those two. Not that they were very interested in her studies or how her day had gone but they at least tried to feign interest. And they provided her with some sort of comic relief — especially with Ted present.

It was just fun to watch Ron trying to feed the baby spinach. The green spots had gone amazingly well with his green hair. She had to give it to him though — he hadn't given up. Ted could fire as much spinach as he liked onto Ron — he had kept feeding him. Stoically. Very amazing.

The water was hot and felt good on her neck and her back, gently massaging out the knots she could feel from being hunched over books too long — and she tried to wash away her dream but that proved to be unwashable. It just remained in her head.

His couch. My love, my life. Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

And as much as she scrubbed — it was still in her head. In his voice in her head. It was still there, oddly enough. Had been a dream. Would never be real. Didn't even know whether she wanted this to become reality.

Ah well — if he was like he had been in the dream, then...no. It would be much more fun to have a Snap by her side who was snarky and mean and sarcastic but would show that side only when it was her. Imagine that — everyone thinking he was an utter git and only she would know better. Only to her, he would be like this. My love, my life.

Ridiculous.

.

Severus had a new task. It wasn't — by any means — as dangerous or as interesting as having been a spy, less exhausting, too, but it was a new task and one that he gladly took. This had been now the second morning that he had, after waking, having breakfast and showering, he walked over to Eleanor's house and picked up Aideen. He brought Aideen to the bus, walked her to her building, watched as she walked inside, then went to his own classes, left a bit early and brought her home again. Accompanied her, really.

That was his new task. Making sure that Aideen got to Uni safe and that she made it home safely. It had been Eleanor that had asked but he had been able to see, clearly, that Aideen was relieved to have him by her side. And since she was mostly quiet in the mornings and hadn't said much on the way back home, he didn't matter all that much. He had to get into Manchester and to Uni himself.

Glad though, that he hadn't yet seen Annie Deveney somewhere around. He knew how he would behave but he couldn't guarantee that she wasn't of the type who'd jump in in broad daylight amongst many, many people. Well — maybe not jump him but try and...kiss him. That wasn't done. Definitely not. Or to touch him even. No no.

And with Aideen by his side, and her need to get home accompanied, he didn't have to stick around University and think about seeing her. Well, yes, he had spent every evening with her but...he knew she felt more for him than he felt for her but somehow...

Well, he didn't know how to stop going to see her. He didn't and he wasn't ready for that step if he was honest with himself. It was too — relaxing, to be honest. And he had never told her that he more than liked her. And a relationship? He had never been in a relationship like this. He didn't know how to behave. He didn't know the protocol. He didn't know how to act.

And it wasn't important now because Aideen had at least partly got her voice back and spoke to him. She wasn't chattering like someone he knew. She wasn't babbling like the same person. She was just...talking. Not like Granger. Granger was unstoppable once she started. Well, maybe if one fumbled with the radio, she could be shut up.

"And Mary said that Louise had said that you're hot," she grinned a bit cheekily and that was something he hadn't seen in a while.

"What?" he spluttered.

"Louise thinks you're hot," she still grinned.

"What?"

"Seriously, Severus, my friend Mary said that my friend Louise said that she thinks you're hot. And Mary agrees with her. It's not so hard to understand. Hot. H-O-T. Hot. As in...sexy, as in desirable, as in...hot."

Severus sat in the bus with his mouth open and could only stare at the girl. It took him close to a minute to get his bearings back and when he did, he still believed that she was messing with him. But — he was glad the girl could at least make fun of him again. Even if she did use her two friends. She was clearly making a joke. Nobody could think him...h-h-ho... well, that word.

He scowled at her. "Now you've had your joke," he said snarkily. "And that's why we have roast on Sunday, not whatever it was you wanted."

Aideen smiled at him — and a moment later, put her head on his shoulder. "I am being honest," she said gently, looking up at him. "They all think you're hot."

Rolling his eyes, he pushed his shoulder up and let it fall — making it impossible for her head to stay there. She shook her head, smiling, and got up from her seat, letting him follow her. Home.

.

"Hermione? Are you..." Ron asked, his ears blushing.

"Am I what?"

"Okay?" Harry answered instead.

"Yeah, why?"

"You seem...is Uni alright? I mean...is everything going okay there?" asked Ron, still blushed slightly.

"Oh yes, Uni is fun. We had analysis I, and geometry I and a sort of introduction. There will be a tutorial about writing papers scientifically and..."

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