Unquestionable Love: The Prequel✨EXCLUSIVE, REVISED EDITION at crmediagal.com✨
* * * available to read at www.crmediagal.com * * *
Story: Unquestionable Love: The Prequel by CRMediaGal
URL: http://crmediagalhome.wordpress.com/ul-prequel
Pairing: Severus Snape/Hermione Granger | Genres: Romance/Angst/Drama/Hurt & Comfort
Synopsis: The beginnings of an unconventional relationship between a professor and his student are tested by war, secrets, prejudice, and perseverance. Epic novel with angst, drama, and blossoming romance. Prequel to Unquestionable Love. HBP to Post-Hogwarts era.
Chapter 1: Uncertain Changes
Chapter 2: A Demonstration and Awakening
Chapter 5: The Snake versus the Lion
Chapter 6: Vows of Selflessness
Chapter 8: Peculiarities In Motion
Chapter 9: The Unspoken Look
Chapter 10: A Contradiction In Terms
Chapter 11: Fresh Observations
Chapter 12: In Need of a Friend [ NEW! ]
Too curious for her own good, Hermione ambled closer to examine them. The lack of lighting had her whipping out her wand moments later and casting Lumos into the darkness. A beam of light emitted from the tip of her wand, providing her a better inspection.
The largest frame at the centre encased Professor Snape’s certificate for his Master’s Degree in Potion-making, officially marked and authenticated by wizardry standards, though the parchment was torn at the edges and contained some stains. It appeared to have been ill-looked after and haphazardly placed in too plain of a frame, hardly befitting of such an accomplishment, as though the professor didn’t care for displaying his academic achievement at all.
Hermione shook her head and glided her wand across its rectangular shape, transfiguring the border into a thicker, elaborate bronze-cased frame instead. She stood back to admire her wand work, satisfied, before moving onto the next frame to the left.
The second image was a photograph of a dull, unimpressive house at an unrecognised location. Simple brickwork, dark shutters stripped of paint, and drawn curtains set the gloomy scene against an overcast sky. Unsure of what significance this place might hold for Professor Snape, Hermione moved onto the last hanging image.
Within a simple wooden frame was a black and white moving photograph of a woman, perhaps in her late twenties or early thirties, who stared straight at the viewer. The picture looked old and tarnished, and the woman as unattractive as the frame that encased her. Her long face was pallid and devoid of emotion, and she had long, limp hair that was as sable as her colourless, empty eyes. She wore an unremarkable white blouse and plaid skirt, and her trademark scowl was hauntingly familiar.
Hermione’s eyebrows lifted, engaged, as she took in the remarkably personal photograph. Considering how confidential the professor kept details of his life, whether it be showcasing his academic accomplishments, revealing family members, or providing visible proof of relatives, Hermione felt as if she had staggered upon something sacred that her eyes had no business scrutinising.
Her enlightened gaze wandered over the strange likeness of the sad, unremarkable woman, apparently the only link to a buried past no one else was privy to but Professor Snape himself. How…tragic, she reflected, with a small pout. His mother looked like a lost soul. What was her story? she wondered.
It was with great reluctance that Hermione ripped her eyes away from the wall, only to almost dispose of her wand in fright. She cried out in the dark, her heart thumping wildly against her chest.
There, standing in the quiet gloom, was Professor Snape, positioned before the fireplace, with his wand drawn and pointed at her, a terrifying enough sight in itself; but his heartless stare was what really left Hermione quaking in her boots. No matter how many times she found herself on the receiving end of that dangerous glare, it never was easier to bear.
Hermione hadn’t heard him re-enter his office. In fact, the soundless professor could have been standing there for several minutes without Hermione’s awareness, and she fell easily agitated under his unnervingly quiet, quick, undetected entrance. She was also mildly impressed, despite the compromising circumstance in which she now found herself.
“Enjoying yourself, are we?” he murmured, his voice so soft and threatening whilst his wand remained aimed. “Making yourself comfortable, were you? Can I offer you a cup of tea, perhaps?”
The revised version of this fanfic is exclusively available to read at www.crmediagal.com
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