stmargarets Mary Sue gets another visitor in her lair

[girlyswot]

Sorry, sorry, sorry. But it's all your fault, St M. That meme put ideas into my head that couldn't be left alone. And at least now you have someone to bring to the party.

*runs away and hides*

This must be the place, he supposed. He didn’t bother to check the directions Hermione had given him: he could tell by the boat outside and the unmistakeable sounds of a nine-year-old boy playing in the back garden. Severus Snape wrinkled his nose in distaste. He loathed middle-class surburbia and middle-aged housewives and this place positively reeked of both. Still, he needed a place to hide out until the worst of the onslaught had passed and Hermione had assured him he would be safe with this particular author.

‘She only writes PG-13. Well, there was one NC-17 oneshot for Harry and Ginny…’

‘Please.’ Severus had put up his hand to stop her. He did not need to hear about the private life of Harry Potter on his honeymoon. It was bad enough that for the past ten years no one had done anything but talk about the boy’s schooldays.

Hermione had grinned at him. ‘Anyway, she’s never so much as mentioned you in passing as far as I can remember. You’ll be able to hide away for as long as you need and no one will ever think to look there.’

One International Portkeys and two Apparitions later, Severus had arrived at the address he’d been given.

‘Nova Scotia?’ he’d checked, with a raised eyebrow. ‘This woman lives in Canada,’ he added disdainfully.

‘Certainly. But you needn’t worry,’ she’d added with an unnerving twinkle in her eye. ‘She’s actually an American.’

###

American she might be but the woman who’d answered the door didn’t look in the least bit welcoming. She seemed to have some sort of identity crisis, introducing herself first as Mary, then St Margaret and finally, after Severus had restrained his look of incredulity at her pretended sainthood to a mere twitch of lip and nostril, she’d settled for Mary Sue.

‘That’s how Hermione will have remembered me,’ she told him. ‘You’d better come in.’

Severus followed her into the hall and waited silently while Mary Sue called something out to the children playing in the garden. With one swift glance he noticed the heap of sporting equipment spilling out of the cupboard under the stairs, the remnants of a meal still waiting to be cleared away on the kitchen table, a pile of folded clothes that clearly needed ironing. He drew a finger down the banister and eyed the resulting black tip with repulsion.

‘Right.’ Mary Sue put her hands on her hips. ‘You can come into the study and tell me what this is all about. But I should warn you, I don’t write slash, I rarely write smut and I ONLY write fluff with happy endings. I really don’t know why Hermione would send you here at all.’

She indicated that he should take the soft chair while she walked round to sit behind the large oak desk. This room was as dusty as the last, but at least the clutter in here was of a familiar kind: there were books on every surface.

‘If you would put yourself to the trouble of using the brain I imagine you must possess, you would perhaps see that those are precisely the reasons Miss Granger thought this would be a suitable place for me to... ah… conceal myself.’

Mary Sue’s eyes flashed. Severus was surprised at the way her face seemed to come to life with her anger. Her cheeks flushed slightly and her lips parted.

‘If you want my help, Professor Snape, you might perhaps, consider that insulting me is not the best way to achieve it.’ She tossed her hair.

In the warm afternoon sunshine, the mingled silver and brown sparkled quite beautifully. Severus swallowed hard.

‘I apologise, Miss Sue. You are aware, I am sure, of a certain… event… due to take place very shortly?’

‘You mean the book?’

Severus inclined his head. ‘Just so. There are a number of unpleasant circumstances which generally accompany such an event and it is my hope that, if you will allow it, staying here with you may allow me to escape some of these indignities.’

Mary Sue drew in a sharp breath. ‘You mean you don’t enjoy those things?’

He tilted his head to one side and waited.

‘No. I’m sorry, I quite understand. Even for a gay man, some of those stories… Well,’ she blushed prettily, ‘I haven’t read past the warnings but I can quite see…’

Severus coughed. ‘Even for a gay man?’

Her eyes widened. Brown, the colour of newly opened conkers. ‘I… I… thought… I mean, we all assumed…’

He shook his head.

‘No?’

‘No, Miss Sue. Just because I do not parade my private life around the pages of a novel, does not mean that my sexual preferences are anything other than normal.’

‘Normal?’ she echoed faintly.

‘Quite normal,’ he told her firmly. ‘I am a man of middle age. I do not have sexual relations with school children of either gender, nor with beasts of any kind, nor with male wizards whether voluntarily or for the exchange of money. Is that clear?’

‘Perfectly. So, who…’ Her eyes lit up and Severus recognised the look of an author who was getting an Idea. But she shook her head before she could finish her question. ‘No, I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.’

‘At present, I am unattached.’

‘Ah.’ Mary Sue had picked up a pencil and was twirling it between her fingers.

Severus waited.

She looked up at him then quickly down at the untidy desk.

Here it came.

‘It’s the hair, I suppose?’

There were a number of answers to that. Severus had perfected them over the years. This time he merely responded with a slightly raised left eyebrow and a quiet, ‘Shall we pretend that was left unsaid, Miss Sue?’

She nodded, blushing again. ‘You’d better call me Mary. No one else will know who on earth Miss Sue is.’

‘Very well. Please call me Severus.’

‘Fine. So how long did you want to stay, Severus?’

He shifted slightly in the soft chair. This was the tricky part. ‘It is difficult to say, Mary. Hermione and I calculated as best we were able, but the situation is, to say the least, unprecedented. The repercussions might go on for months.’

‘Months!’

‘No, no. I do not intend to presume upon your kindness for so long, I assure you. Perhaps a week or two? Then, I am sure, I will be able to find another place to go.’

‘A week or two.’ Mary Sue fixed him with a fierce glare. Severus felt something inside him melt. ‘Then I’ll want to start writing Ron’s story again. There won’t be room for you.’

Ron’s story! What nonsense. That boy was never going to amount to any story worth telling. ‘Very well.’

‘Oh! I almost forgot.’ Mary was giving him a strange look, as if she were trying to assess his suitability for something.

‘Well, what is it?’

‘I won’t be here for the next couple of days. I’m going to a party.’ She frowned. ‘I think it would be best if you came too. I don’t really want to leave you here with…’ Her hand waved in the direction of the garden.

Severus snorted. ‘I am a school teacher.’

‘You are a murderer,’ she retorted.

He leaned back in the reclining chair and put his fingertips together, smiling mysteriously at her over the top. ‘Well now, Mary, that remains to be seen. Doesn’t it?’

Instantly, she clapped her hands to her ears. ‘Whatever you know, I don’t want to hear it! Do you understand? There are to be NO SPOILERS in my house.’

Severus chuckled. ‘Oh, I understand. We’re all under an Unbreakable Vow to keep the contents secret until Saturday.

Cautiously, she removed her hands and her hair fell back around her ears. ‘Very well, then. Be ready to leave tomorrow. And pack whatever it is you wear on the beach.’ 




Author's note: SORRY, sorry, sorry.  I love you, really.  But I just couldn't resist.  And I'm sure your house is beautiful and not at all middle-class surburban nightmare - those are Snape's opinions, not mine.  And I'm sure you're a model housewife too.  

But PLEASE bring him to the party - I think it could be a lot of fun.  Plus, I like it when he calls me Miss Swot.  *grins*