The Labyrinth I

The Beginning

 

Disclaimer: While I solemnly swear that I am up to no good, I do not solemnly swear to own Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Severus Snape or any other characters created by JK Rowling, nor do I own any of the entities from 'The Labyrinth', they belong to Jim Henson, Brian Froud, George Lucas, Dennis Lee, Terry Jones and A.C.H Smith who wrote the novelisation. They will be handed back accordingly once I’ve finished with them, and until that time, I’m only borrowing them for a bit o’fun… I swear.

Summary: (Non HBP/DH Compliant) Hermione makes a wish one night while arguing with her fellow colleague and it lands them in a strange land, in strange clothes, with no room for a wand.

Pairing: Hermione/Severus

Rating: FRAO

Notes: This was written of OzRatBag2 during the first ever SS/HG exchange, I was in the process of moving house when I started it and had never written a parody fic before and wracked my brain for two weeks trying to think of something (a situation, a place, a moment) in which I could work this story. Finally, I let it rest for a couple of days and one night I had a dream where dear old Severus was the King and woke myself up laughing. This is the first part of the resulting fic. The rest of the fic is to come soon enough - I've moved house A LOT since starting this, and thus, the completed work is written on paper, and not on the computer, and I am slowly getting around to transferring it. Enjoy.

~*~*~*~

“Excuse me, Madam Pince?”

“Hmm?”

“This book, I think it was in the wrong section.”

“Hmm, those young men better not have bought that gum back in here.”

“It was in the Restricted Section when I know it should be in Muggle Literature.”

“Hmm, I’ve got my eye on you Mr. Fawcett.”

“Either way, I’d like to borrow it if I may.”

Madam Pince took the proffered stack of books and began the age old ritual of opening and magically stamping them, so focused on watching Mr. Fawcett that she paid little attention to the small, leather-bound book she had just stamped and slid back across the desk.

“Thank you.”

“Have a pleasant day Professor Granger.”

Hermione smiled and shook her head. Six years as a teacher and she still marvelled at the way the Hogwarts Librarian put the fear of Merlin into the students as no one else could. The large, heavy doors swung shut just as the other woman attacked her latest victim for daring to bring Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum into the library.

It wasn’t until much, much later, when it was already far too late and when Madam Pince was going over the day’s borrowing lists, did she realize just which book the young Arithmancy professor had been talking about. Her already sallow face turned several shades paler then normal as she clutched the scroll of paper and flew from the library to the Headmaster’s office.

~*~

Hermione’s eyes drifted from the fourth year Arithmancy papers she was trying to grade to the small-ish stack of books perched on the edge of her desk. Shaking her head, she cleared her mind and focused on the papers in front of her, her quill dipping into the well of red ink periodically. Finally, she set the last paper aside and gave a small cheer; with her grading done, the rest of the weekend would be free for her to peruse the books – namely the small, leather-bound book – she’d borrowed from the library. Standing up from her desk, Hermione stretched, sighing in relief as the bones in her lower back popped and crackled back into alignment, satisfied that she’d have some relief from having spent the last two and a bit hours hunched over her work, she snatched up the pile of books and made her way from her private study and into her room.

As she kicked off her shoes, she set the small, leather-bound book on her pillow and the others on the night stand before shucking her teaching robes, skirt, tights and blouse for something far more comfortable and pressing the small panel by the side of the fireplace with her wand.

“Dobby is here Professor Hermione,” a loud crack preceded the squeaky voice.

Turning, Hermione placed her wand on the nightstand and offered the house elf a smile. “Hello Dobby, I didn’t take you away from anything else did I?”

“Oh no, Professor Hermione, Dobby is always ready to help a friend of Harry Potter’s.” His bat-like ears waggled as he bobbed up and down.

“Thank you Dobby.”

“You is most welcome Professor Hermione, what is it Dobby can be doing for you?”

“I won’t be able to make it down to breakfast tomorrow morning Dobby, and I’m afraid the cooling charm on my icebox seems to be wearing out. I’ve had to recast it four times today already, would I be able to get some fresh milk sent up for my tea in the morning?”

Dobby’s eyes widened as he spied the stack of books on the nightstand, smiling softly, he nodded, “I is going to be sending it straight up Professor Hermione, all the iceboxes seems to be conking out in the Professors’ rooms. I is thinking we need knew ones.”

“I shall let the Headmistress know, thank you Dobby.” Hermione smiled and moved back over to the bed as the house-elf smiled brightly and nodded, his bright green eyes glittering as he left the room with a crack.

As she settled onto her bed, Hermione laughed as a tray of crumpets, tea and pumpkin juice appeared alongside the books on the nightstand. Lifting a cup of steaming tea to her lips, Hermione eyed the slim, red leather-bound volume. It had been seventeen years since she’d even contemplated this book, though looking back, she’d made sure to watch the film at least once every summer when at home.

Lifting the book, she inhaled deeply, the smell of leather and dust and binding glue and string and aged paper assaulted her senses and she gave a happy sigh; there was nothing as good as the smell of books. Opening the book she began to read, getting swept up almost immediately as the scene played out in her mind along with the words. She was just winding up the first chapter, commiserating with the central character when her hearth flared green.

“Granger!” a voice barked.

Sighing, Hermione marked her page with her finger and slid out of bed, forgoing a robe in order to stare down at the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. “Can I help you Professor?”

He sneered up at her, “I will ask you only once to refrain from countering my authority as a senior member of staff when it comes to handing out House points.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about Professor.” In her six years as a teacher, they had grown somewhat tolerable of each other, but their relationship was, more often then not, still prickly at best.

“I find that hard to believe,” he snorted. “I remember detracting fifty points from Gryffindor this afternoon for failing to comply with school rules in regards to duelling in the corridors; only to find that this evening, Gryffindor is once again ahead by fifty points. And unless Patrick Finnegan has suddenly mastered the art of turning a toadstool into an acceptable algorithm for Arithmancy, I see no reason why this should be.”

Hermione’s eyes flashed and her hands moved from to her hips. “I’ve not seen Patrick Finnegan since ten o’clock this morning Professor, but if you check the records, you’ll find that Mr. Finnegan received twenty five points for correctly transfiguring a potted palm into a gramophone, and a further twenty-five points for saving three young Slytherins from falling through one of the shifting staircases leading up to Gryffindor tower. Both lots of points were assigned by Minerva.”

Severus sneered one last time, “I have checked the recorder and it states that you are indeed responsible for their fifty point lead.”

Hermione’s grip tightened on the book. “I think you’ll find that Slytherin was awarded fifty house points as well, making them even with Gryffindor. Voldemort is dead Severus, so I suggest you remove the wand that’s obviously imbedded up your arse and leave me in peace before spouting garbage at me!”

Severus shot her a glare and pulled himself out of the floo and into her rooms.

“How dare you come into my chambers uninvited!” She screeched, her eyes blazing now.

“How dare you speak to a senior member of staff in such a manner!” He roared back.

“Get out!”

“No!”

Hermione turned on her heel, her blood boiling with barely suppressed rage. “Get out of my rooms,” she pointed towards the door. “The door is there; do not let it hit you in the arse on the way out!”

Their argument grew louder as Severus yelled back that he would not tolerate being spoken to in such a fashion. Finally, they were right in each others’ faces when Hermione flung out the one thing that had caused the Ministry of Magic to label the book she held in her hand – the hand Severus had only just captured by the wrist to keep from whacking him in the head – as Restricted.

“I wish the goblins would come and take you away, right now!”

The book glowed sickly green, capturing the attention of both Professors before a chorus of cheers broke out around them. In a swirl of green light and golden mist, Hermione and Severus locked eyes, both glaring at the other.

“Seventy points from Gryffindor.” Severus said maliciously, and before Hermione could retort that one could not take points from a fellow Professor, the swirling light and mist stopped and the room became eerily empty.

The book landed with a muffled thump on the hearth rug.

~*~*~*~

Stepping back, Hermione took a quick assessment of their situation as the world righted itself. She seemed unharmed, and as Severus was not moaning and gasping and … well, he really wasn’t saying anything at all … she gathered that he was fine as well. With her back to him, she scanned the horizon, a castle stood in the distance, and between them, rows upon rows of stone and greenery. Without even thinking, Hermione spoke. “You cannot take points from a fellow Professor, Professor.”

Severus closed his eyes and forced himself to count to ten… three times… to keep from hexing the infuriating woman. He was thankful she hadn’t turned around and silently willed her to keep her back to him. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he opened his eyes and smirked, it seemed he wasn’t the only one who’d been forced into a change of wardrobe when the book activated. A tiny gasp made him groan inwardly. “One word and I’ll hex you so fast your head will spin.”

Hermione made a non-committal sound in the back of her throat as she looked over her colleague. His legs were encased in black tights and the shirt he wore beneath the matching black jacket with a high collar was open part way down his chest. Something in the back of her mind, the part unaffected by the man standing in front of her, told her that this scene was familiar somehow. Pulling her gaze away from the sight of his legs and chest, Hermione focused on view behind him. “We’re in The Labyrinth, aren’t we?” She shook her head, “I thought it was just a muggle piece of literature. After all, I’ve seen Goblins, and well, the Goblins in this book are just Muppets and, well, almost cuddly.”

“You foolish woman,” Snape growled, “Where on earth did you get the bloody book from?” His eyes closed again and he shook his head when she gave her response. “Not all wizards prefer to remain within the confines of Wizarding Law; Jim Henson spent two years in Azkaban for what he did.”

“Well I didn’t bloody well know it was written by a wizard now did I? And I most certainly didn’t expect this to happen!”

“If you spent half your time reading ‘Wizards of the Twentieth Century’, instead of ‘Hogwarts: A History’, you’d -”

A slight cough somewhere to his left, cut Severus off mid-tirade; a very masculine cough, turning slowly, Severus eyed the man that could have been Lucius Malfoy’s twin, “Can we help you?”

Hermione moved warily, mentally berating herself for not having her wand. She stopped when she came up behind the man she’d been arguing with. “Do you have your wand?” She asked in a harsh whisper.

“Yes, because this outfit has a place made especially for my wand, you insufferable woman!” He snapped back.

“It was only a question!” She placed her hands on her hips, intending to glare him down.

The other man sighed and shook his head. “Enough. You are not supposed to be here.” He pointed at Severus and flicked his wrist, with a flash of green and gold mist, Severus Snape had disappeared.

Hermione’s eyes widened, “What did you do with him? Bring him back this instant!” She took a step back as the blond man came closer, his eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“You invoked the enchantment of the book; you’re the one that sent him here.” His voice was smooth, like silk and it made the hairs on the back of Hermione’s neck stand up.

“I did no such thing!”

He quirked an eyebrow and produced a small crystal ball, “I beg to differ,” he offered it to her and watched in satisfaction as her eyes grew as round as saucers and her face paled as she watched the scene that had taken place in her chambers moments ago.

“Bring him back this instant!” She cried, shoving his hand out of the way.

“Sorry, but a wish is a wish. You wished him here and as per obligations of the book, I complied.” Another flick of his wrists and he was holding the book in his hand. “Paragraph three, section five: In reading The Labyrinth, hereafter known as The Book, I the reader, realize that any utterance of the text contained within, whilst The Book is in my hands, agree that the rules are legally binding, and that should I wish someone to be taken by the Goblins of The Book, it is at the sole discretion of the Goblin King and cannot be revoked without due toil and hardship. In revoking the wish without due toil and hardship, I acknowledge that I may be sued by the Goblin King for defamation of character, libel and emotional upheaval.” He smirked as she snatched the book from his hands.

“Oh give me that!” She looked down at the pages before her, reading quickly. “What a load of rubbish! There was none of this in my copy of the book! Bring him back this instant.”

“Sorry, but rules are rules. You wished him to be taken; I took him as is my right.”

Hermione huffed and almost threw the book at him, but remembered that abusing the book is what had gotten her into this mess in the first place. “Please just bring him back; we’ve both got duties to attend to at the school.”

The Goblin King carried on as though he hadn’t heard a word she said. “You’ve two choices, one is to go back to your room, read your books, mark your papers and forget about the Professor.” He smirked as he started pacing, warming up to the next bit. She was, a little mouthy; more so then the last young woman to find herself within the confines of the book, but it would be fun watching her cut a swath through the labyrinth. “Or you can make your way through the Labyrinth to him.”

“Where is he?” Hermione asked, already knowing - and dreading - his answer.

“You know very well where he is,” he looked at her quizzically before pointing past her shoulder towards the castle. “He’s there, at the centre of the labyrinth.”

She cringed, this was all too familiar to her and she wondered for a moment, if she should just leave Professor Severus Snape to suffer his fate. Turning she looked at the castle. “I’ve seen worse.”

“I doubt it,” muttered the Goblin King. “The entire land is made up of dead ends and openings. You’ll be lost within an hour.”

Turning on her heel, her eyes narrowed, “It’s a bloody maze for Merlin’s sake, I’ve seen the film, how hard can it be?”

“It is ever changing, what you think you know may very well lead to trouble. I suggest you turn back now.”

“I fought Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange for pity’s sake; I think I can handle some old rocks and shrubbery.”

He scoffed, “We’ll see.”

Hermione turned her back on him, thanking whichever deity seemed fit to clothe her in jeans and a long sleeved blouse as a cool wind whipped around her ankles. “See you in thirteen hours then.” Without another word, she descended the hill and moved towards the first of many solid stone walls.

“Insufferable bloody wench,” the King muttered.

“I heard that!” said Hermione, calling over her shoulder.

With a flash of green light and golden mist, the King disappeared, leaving Hermione to make her own way.

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