Chapter 1: Going Back To Hogwarts
Chapter Text
The golden trio strode confidently into the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry three abreast, looking around at the changes and improvements since the war ended as they walked. It was only when they stopped that they became aware that they were being greeted by instant silence.
“Well, isn’t this awkward?” Hermione Granger muttered under her breath, bringing her sunglasses up to perch on her head now she was inside. She looked far more confident than she actually felt, but at present appearances were all that counted really.
“It’ll be right, ‘Mione,” Ron encouraged.
“Yeah,” Harry replied on her other side, as the boys performed the same ritual with their eye protection.
After the dust had settled from the war, Hermione and Harry had gone travelling, and they had only returned to England now because the school had finally reopened.
Ron had quickly settled back in England, although he had initially accompanied his friends. He’d only been gone a few months when he’d said he’d had a letter from home, and he was needed to help George in the shop. Although, Hermione had wondered at this at the time.
He’d promised to catch up with them somewhere along the way, but once he was home without them he’d discovered that he was instantly famous. As the only remaining member of their number in England he’d apparently been revelling in the delights of the witches who constantly seemed to be throwing themselves at him.
As they stood here now at the entrance to The Great Hall at Hogwarts, seeming to be the centre of attention, Hermione realised why she hadn’t wanted to return, now that utter silence enveloped the hall. It was the first time people had seen the three of them together in almost two years, and Hermione had forgotten just how intrigued British wizards and witches were with them.
They did look good, all in their own ways. Both the boys were head and shoulders over Hermione, even in her high-heeled pumps, and all three of them were lean, well-muscled and literally glowing with health.
Hermione had chosen to leave her hair loose today, only catching the sides of her curly mane in a clip at the back of her head. Her strapless red sundress had a tight bodice which showed off her figure before the skirt flared out from the waist, finishing mid-thigh. There were big brown buttons down the front and a thick whitish coloured belt around the middle and her bare shoulders were covered by a black, waist length denim jacket.
Harry had dispensed with his glasses; he’d had laser eye surgery to correct his vision and cosmetic surgery to remove his scar. His hair was short at the back with a longish fringe, and his face was covered in designer stubble, completing his ruggedly handsome look.
Ron was the taller of the two young men and his hair was a shaggy mane that was mainly caught up into a pony tail that extended down past his shoulder blades. He had one ear pierced and a dragon’s tooth ear ring hanging from it like his brother.
The boys were total opposites in dress and style, and while they were both wearing jeans, Harry’s were well fitted and complimented his crisp white shirt and thigh length leather jacket, while Ron on the other hand, wore tight jeans and a fitted olive coloured long sleeved tee with open buttons at the neck that showed off his trim condition.
The three of them walked forward to the headmistress. “We’re sorry we’re late, ma’am. We had some issues at the Portkey office,” Harry said quietly.
McGonagall nodded and kept going with her talk while they sat down.
The issues that Harry had spoken of and the silence they had endured on arrival were some of the reasons that he and Hermione had not returned to England sooner. Well, they had returned several times before today - for family birthdays, once when Arthur had been promoted at work and on the occasion of Charlie’s marriage to Gavin, a fellow dragon keeper.
The fact of the matter was that they were just too much of a curiosity for people. They had both tried to date people in England after the war, but all of them found that people were only interested in the notoriety of having bedded a war hero—especially in Hermione’s case—so they had left England, thinking that it would all settle down after a time.
Now, as she sat in the Great Hall at Hogwarts listening to the headmistress, Hermione wondered if that was really the case as she quietly started to observe the people who had returned for the so-called eighth year. In the time that had elapsed since the end of the war, most people had moved on, either going to another school, finding a way around their lack of NEWT results, or doing something that didn’t require them.
Neville fell into this category. Professor Sprout had accepted him as her apprentice, and he had been training to take over her position ever since the war. He only had one more year—this year—to go before he was going to be the Herbology professor, and he wasn’t here today; it was only the headmistress here this afternoon.
Susan Bones and Terry Boot were sitting next to the Patil sisters, and then Hannah Abbott, Lavender Brown, Ron and Seamus Finnigan were next in line. After that there were two students that Hermione didn’t recognise, but they were sitting with Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood, and they seemed to know them, so perhaps they’d been in their year.
She mentally shrugged. She guessed that there were bound to be people coming out of the woodwork that she didn’t know. Not everyone sent their children to Hogwarts, especially under the political climate of two years ago. Two years, she considered. It’s a long time to wait to finish school, and as she thought this she noted Ginny glaring at her. Well, nothing new there then, she thought. She still thinks that Harry and I are doing things we’re not.
Harry had ignored her offer for him to sit beside her when he’d arrived, and he’d sat next to Hermione instead, and Hermione now considered that the redhead was bound to cause her trouble sometime soon.
Hermione sighed and looked away again. The chairs were arranged in an arc around the dais where the headmistress was speaking, and the Gryffindor witch was on the extreme end, so she was easily able to see everyone. She glanced to the other side of her to check out the Slytherins, also noting the gap where no one was sitting. For some reason this incensed her. Had nothing changed? She focused on that gap intently, and she had the urge to go and close it by sitting there. Then she glanced around and saw that most Gryffindors were resolutely ignoring the existence of the Slytherins and vice versa, and she sighed.
She was hoping that neither side would start making trouble; she didn’t know how she would handle that. She’d left a very pleasant life to come back to school. They’d all put their lives on hold to do this, and being an adult and still in school was going to be awkward enough without any of them making it more unbearable.
It was then that her eyes slipped to the person occupying the chair next to the empty one and what her eyes found made her gasp softly. Draco Malfoy had matured well since she’d last seen him. Even though he was sitting, she guessed he would be as tall as his father and apart from several softer aspects—obviously due to his mother’s influence—he was the double of what she suspected a young Lucius would have looked like.
He was dressed in a similar manner to Harry, except he was wearing black dress trousers instead of jeans, and he simply oozed cool sophistication. Hermione found herself a little entranced by him. He was a blond Adonis, but not a patch on his father, and she wondered if he knew that his father had saved her life twice before the end of the war.
He was sitting with a very possessive looking blonde hanging on his arm. He’s obviously attached, Hermione thought. Then she noted that he looked extremely uncomfortable with the attentions of the blonde beside him, and she considered that he might not be willingly entangled with her.
She wondered how Lucius was. He most certain was not the cold-hearted Death Eater she’d thought him to be, and this made him wonder about Draco too, but finally, her eyes moved passed him from face to face, and she was surprised to see that only some of them looked as she remembered.
Millicent Bulstrode was just as butch as ever, Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott just as sullen, but then she realised that the Slytherins appeared to be split in two factions. Interesting, she thought.
Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy were sitting together with Daphne Greengrass and the girl on Draco’s arm who Hermione thought was Daphne’s sister, and as her eyes panned back through them, and yes, she confirmed, the Slytherins appeared to be aligned into two groups. Her eyes slid past Greg Goyle on the way to her back to Malfoy.
As if feeling someone watching him, his slate-grey eyes rose to meet her curious amber-flecked gaze, and the sight that met her eyes was an irritated young man of sophisticated sexuality, but as he looked at Hermione his brow relaxed slightly, and he casually cocked a pale eyebrow at her before glancing quickly at the witch beside him and then looking back to McGonagall.
To her horror Hermione blushed and squirmed in her seat, earning her a whispered comment from Harry.
“Hermione?” he murmured in her ear. Apparently the exchange had not gone unnoticed.
“What?” she replied innocently, looking back to McGonagall.
He chuckled quietly, and leant closer to her ear, whispering, “Why are you staring at Slytherins?”
This made her snicker gently and comment, “I’m just seeing who’s who,” she replied, and she glanced at him, before shrugging and whispering, “That’s all.”
Harry scoffed quietly at her and turned his attention back to McGonagall too. Hermione snuck a glance at Ron who had been gobbled up by Lavender and Parvati as soon as he’d arrived, and she wondered again what was behind the peck on the lips he’d given her at the Portkey Office; it had not been a very welcome development. She had hoped by now that he would have given up on any thought that she entertained anything more than friendship for him.
She’d set Ron straight after their kiss in The Chamber of Secrets before The Final Battle, but every once in a while he still tried it on, and she sighed and attempted to concentrate on McGonagall again. Men! she thought, are they really worth the trouble? She exhaled, returning her attention to the headmistress. Of course, that was when her brain considered that there was one man she thought was worth it, a Slytherin even more forbidden than Malfoy would be.
She took a deep breath. She’d had such a crush on him, regardless of how he’d treated her during her previous time here. Hermione had always believed that there was a decent person caught under the persona that Severus Snape had projected during the war. Then she remembered how long it had been since she’d seen him. It seemed like so long ago, but with her thoughts she felt the familiar guilt flood her.
Her thoughts swam in her head. How could she have not even checked that he was still alive after he’d given Harry his memories that day? How could she have left him like that? She was a better person than that, and he must have been alive, because he survived the experience. How could she not have summoned help for him? She should have at least checked to see, done something.
She glanced at Harry as she felt her throat starting to constrict. No! she thought. No, think of something else. His reaction to her checking out the Slytherins had been rather tame. Harry really had grown up since they’d left England and he’d not had belligerent relatives to deal with or a mad man in his head constantly taunting him. Her eyes flitted to Ron as she thought about it, something had happened between them to cause Ron to flee, she was certain of it. She suspected she knew what it had been, but… she sighed.
Of course, none of this was even mentioning the Ginny debacle. After the war, Ginny Weasley had laid claim to Harry, except Harry hadn’t wanted to rekindle their romance, and Ginny had not taken it well. Hermione sighed to herself. If there was one thing she knew for certain, it was that Harry Potter was not going to marry and produce a Quidditch team. She knew he had other plans, and she knew that because he’d told her. Harry was like the brother she’d never had, and she loved him dearly.
Besides the heroic Gryffindor types were just not her cup of tea, most of them were far too focused on themselves. Ron came to mind in this latter category. As she thought this she glanced back at Malfoy and Zabini, and thought of another Slytherin; now sensual Slytherins they were more her style. Even thought she’d never been with a Slytherin, she’d often thought about what it might be like. I really like then, she thought. I want to discover what makes them different.
Then she scolded herself. This year was a concession to those displaced persons who had not completed their NEWTs two years ago because of the war. It was not an excuse to get all hot and heavy with anyone.
The fact that the headmistress was going to so much trouble with this pre-term get together today shamed her into listening again. They were the only ones who had arrived today, so they could settle in before the remainder of the students came tomorrow, but then in some neglected corner of Hermione’s brain, she wondered if today was actually aimed at seeing if they all killed each other on sight, thereby solving the headmistress’ problem for her.
The headmistress drew a long breath and Hermione paid more attention again.
“Now the last thing I will tell you before you go to settle in, is that this year is an opportunity, and you are all adults. I will not be pleased if I have to deal with any lingering unpleasantness.” Her astute gaze levelled on each of them. “I intend to treat you all as the adults you are, and you will be allowed to come and go as you please, but I expect decorum at all times and respect towards each other as well as your teachers. Tonight’s dinner will be a social event between you and those teachers, so, welcome to Hogwarts, and I will see you all back here at six thirty.”
~~~***~~~
Hermione was just preparing to leave and ensconce herself within their accommodation until dinner time. She wanted to get away from other people to think through what suddenly seemed so urgent in her mind about her rekindled—and definitely illicit—interest in a certain wizard. However Professor McGonagall called after her.
“Hermione.”
Hermione turned and waited when she saw the headmistress coming towards her. “Yes, ma’am?” she asked. She’d always liked her head of house, but of course she was now the headmistress, but then her mind wondered what Professor Snape thought about that. It must be terribly awkward for him being back here and not being the headmaster.
“It’s good to see you,” Minerva said, as she came closer.
“Thank you, it’s good to be back,” Hermione answered. However, her voice did not sound as convinced of that as she’d have liked it to, and she was actually wondering if it was a good thing.
“Would you walk with me, please?” the austere witch asked.
“Certainly,” Hermione replied, distractedly glancing around at the different groups of her peers. Hermione was well aware that Ron’s sister was still glaring at her, and she was dreading the thought of sharing accommodation with her.
“I have a proposition for you that I’m hoping will make things slightly easier for you,” McGonagall said, bringing Hermione’s attention back to her.
“You have, ma’am?”
“Hermione, I’m certain you will be seen as something of a beacon to the other students.”
“I will, ma’am?” and images of her alter ego dancing in the club in Germany floated through Hermione’s mind, and she wanted to laugh. She projected up tight perfection here in England—it was how she’d been always seen—but while she’d been away she’d discovered an entirely different side to herself. She glanced at McGonagall, her thoughts hidden.
“Yes, and I am hoping that you might consider being one of my inaugural student welfare representatives. It would be more than a simple prefect’s role, and it would entitle you to private lodgings just like the head girl and boy have.” She watched Hermione for some moments ignoring that look of shocked despair that passed over the young witch’s countenance.
Hermione was silent, having just realised with the headmistress’ words that she was going to be denied the honour of being head girl. It was one of the reasons she had decided to wait to come back to Hogwarts and had not simply attended The Salem Institute or Beauxbatons two years ago, like so many other Hogwarts students had while the school had been closed for rebuilding.
This was like a full force blow hitting her, she wasn’t going to be head girl. She invented so many reasons why she had not heard about the position, but now reality crashed down over her. She had wasted two years of her life waiting while the Ministry fluffed around getting Hogwarts back up and running. She could have been a year into her first degree at university by now. There were people younger than her completing their qualifications, but she had waited like the rest of those present today for her old alma mater to reopen, thinking that it was important to finish at Hogwarts.
Countless people were making do with no NEWT levels, but she had wanted her NEWT levels. She had wanted to be head girl, to finally finish off her studentship at Hogwarts how she thought she should have. Through her disappointment, she saw Minerva watching her, and she realised that she was waiting for a response, and Hermione put on a brave face. “Oh… Thank you, ma’am. Of course, I’ll assist in any way that I can,” she stated with mock excitement.
She fought with herself to stay rational as all of these thoughts screamed at her, and she breathed in and out deliberately taking air in and out of her lungs to keep her mind calm. However, her attention was taken by the fact that when they started walking again, they were heading towards the library, and this seemed to overcome her minds intentions for her.
“Good,” Minerva replied, obviously ignoring the breathy falseness and the actual distress in Hermione’s voice. “It is fair to say that you and your male counterpart, would—under normal circumstances—have been head girl and boy, but this position will see you working with the heads and the prefects. You are both adults, so neither of you are subject to the same school rules as the others. The role you will play will be almost like a teacher’s aids, as you guide those younger students who have been placed in positions of authority.” Having said this the headmistress continued without even bothering to consider Hermione’s perspective. “It was decided that the head girl and boy should come from seventh year students as it always has.”
“I understand, Ma’am,” Hermione said, even as she felt a fresh surge of anger flood her for what she given up and been denied because of the war.
“Do you? Good,” McGonagall said distractedly. “Well, here we are.”
Hermione had been so caught up in her thoughts that she’d lost track of where they were. She quickly glanced around, and saw that they had stopped outside the library and were mounting the set of stairs that went up to the training grounds towers.
“There are several sets of living quarters, the training room, a classroom and an office up here in these small towers. I have allocated them to you and the wizard I have chosen for you to work with. Professor Snape will also be living and working up here.”
Minerva heard Hermione’s small gasp, and misinterpreted it as fear. “I doubt that you will even see him, as he has a separate entrance to his rooms, and much additional research and development space through there,” and she pointed to a door on the other side of the small office she had ushered Hermione to the entrance of. “The only time you may bump into him is here as he enters or leaves. Even so, you are all adults, and I’m sure you can deal with it,” she stated in an off-handed way.
“Yes, ma’am, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she offered, realising what the headmistress had thought when she’d gasped, but now her mind was trying to fathom why Professor Snape had consented to live so close to two students.
“I’m certain you will. Now, I’ve spoken to the young man in question before you arrived, and both tonight and tomorrow at the feast I will inform the students that this is where they can find you if they need you,” she stated.
Hermione nodded to the woman in the portrait on the door, dressed entirely in violet “Hello,” she said, as she glanced sideways at the headmistress and couldn’t help but notice that she had looked apprehensive before she’d tried to gain access, and intensely relieved when the door had opened.
“Miss Granger,” the witch replied. “I’m pleased to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you from my friend. I’m Violet Tillyman.”
“Oh,” Hermione said, wondering who her friend was, but more curious about who her partner in this venture would be. “Who is the wizard you’ve chosen?” she asked, looking around the office.
“Draco Malfoy.”
“Oh,” Hermione replied.
The headmistress smiled. “The office is for all three of you, and the portrait will direct inquiries to the relevant person when people visit.”
They went through the small office, without seeing that the professor’s door had just shut, and Minerva opened a door on the opposite wall as Hermione nodded. “Through here is a living area,” and she led the way.
It was strange circular room, and there were two doors up the side of the wall and stairs winding up passed each door to the top. “Yours is the top one,” she continued. “Well, I’ll leave you to settle in.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Hermione said, closing the door that led to the office once the headmistress had walked out.
Hermione surveyed the room. There was a coffee and tea making area, and she smiled as her eyes trailed up the stairs to her blessed private room. This almost made up for not being head girl. She sighed, but it also posed more questions than it answered. She had been dreading having to share with the other witches this year, especially Ginny. She had grown too fond of having her own space, but living with Draco Malfoy, and adjacent to Professor Snape, how was that going to work?
Hurrying up the stairs, and closing the door on her own little domain she kicked her shoes off, and after wiggling her toes in the thick rug she padded softly to the window and opened it. Sighing as the sweet summer breeze caressed her face she leant on the stone of the window frame.
It felt both good and incredibly confronting to be here. She was finally getting on with her life, but at the same time she was putting it on hold to do this, and she resolved then and there that she would throw herself wholeheartedly into her studies and forget about men. She would most definitely not lust after a professor who would not thank her for it, or anyone else for that matter.
She was drawn from her thoughts be a whooshing sound and focusing off to the side she saw Harry, Ron and several others racing towards the Quidditch pitch on brooms. She smiled, but then tsked, “Well, isn’t that just typical?” and then she laughed, “They’re not here five minutes and they’re playing Quidditch.”
To her surprise though, she saw three Slytherins amongst the group. “Well, I guess they can play Quidditch together now they’re all adults,” she laughed and turned back into the room to look around more closely.
~~~***~~~
Draco had to admit that he had been incredibly surprised when Potter suggested that they go and toss a quaffle around for a while. Not everyone had jumped at the idea, but if there’s one thing I know, it’s which people hold the most benefits. We have to move forward, we can’t hold onto outdated ideas that have caused us all so much pain.
Well, I didn’t expect Bulstrode or Nott to like the idea of playing nice with Gryffs. They went off with their noses in the air. I don’t think Granger heard what was going on, she was leaving like there was a fire in her tail feathers when McGonagall caught up with her. Beside she doesn’t seem to fly well, and of course that’s the reason I jumped at the chance so quickly. Astoria doesn’t fly either, and I needed to get the bitch off my case long enough to make my escape. I am not going to marry that pureblooded bigot! No matter what her father says.
Chapter 2: A Social Evening
Notes:
Disclaimer:-
I neither own nor own anything from this story. My plot is my own, but the world of Harry Potter is the intellectual property of JK Rowling and associates.~~~***~~~
A/N:- Big thank you to my beta, Golden Asp, for her work on this chapter.
Chapter Text
As Draco walked in to dinner that night, he saw a vacant seat next to Hermione with no sign of Astoria anywhere, and he took his chance to try and talk to the Gryffindor witch. He smiled and walked forward, but he couldn’t help himself when she saw where her eyes were fixed, and he had to stir the pot just a little bit.
He’d enjoyed the game of Quidditch that afternoon, and he’d also enjoyed Weasley’s sour expression at having to form up a mostly Slytherin, Gryffindor team even more. If he was going to be living with Hermione he had better try and make it as amicable as possible.
“May I?” he inquired, still watching where Hermione was looking as he approached her.
Hermione blushed as she tore her eyes away from examining the person of Severus Snape. “Oh… umm, sure,” she said, but her lip slipped between her teeth, and she glanced apprehensively at Harry and Ron, even though they weren’t taking any notice of her.
Draco sat next to her, and watched her seriously for what seemed like minutes. “Actually,” he said, glancing around quickly, before swiftly getting to his feet again.
Hermione thought he was about to leave, but she was more shocked than she could say when he went down on one knee beside her. She swivelled around in her chair to face him and saw his hand extended towards her silently asking hers to meet his. Tentatively she moved her hand forward, and gasped slightly when his connected with it and she watched him lay his forehead on it momentarily.
Looking back up at her, he said, “I am very sorry for being such a prick to you over the years. Can we start again?”
Hermione was uncertain of what she should say. Finally, she nodded and murmured a sound of assent and he looked up at her and smiled.
“Thank you,” he replied, and he kissed the back of her hand.
To her horror she couldn’t help the little sigh that escaped her, and then she realised that she was blushing like a firstie. What the hell? she questioned herself. Granger, get a grip.
The blond Slytherin watched her as he stood again and he chuckled decadently at her pretty flush. “Now, I wonder how far that blush goes,” he snickered as he bent to sit again, his grey eyes merry with mischief.
Hermione was slightly horrified that she could be undone this easily, and she got to her feet and said primly, “Whilst I appreciate the apology, Malfoy, do you really think it’s that easy to get around me?”
Unfazed, Draco just smirked. “I would be profoundly disappointed if it was,” he replied, knowing that he already had her number. “Now, please sit. Let us show the remainder of Slytherin and Gryffindor that we, the two with the largest gulf between us, can be civil,” and he guided her back to her seat with careful hands. “After all, we have to live together, so we might as well start trying to get on.”
Hermione was dumbfounded, but she appreciated the sentiment he was expressing, and she nodded and sat graciously. “True. Very well,” she replied.
Draco settled beside her once more, but her eyes kept sweeping up to glance at Severus. To her, he looked so different; there was not even a hint of what he used to look like in the man sitting opposite her around the dinner table.
His raven hair was silky and clean, and it was longer. It was caught up by a black velvet tie at the nape of his neck, and his nose, while still huge and hooked, was no longer crooked. In fact, his features now appeared in proportion, and in the current absence of his perpetual scowl, he was… well, handsome.
The young woman blinked as if to clear her vision, trying to take it all in. She also noticed that some of his many buttons were gone. His frock coat, while still as long, now had lapels and he was wearing a blue brocade waistcoat with a fob chain across it, which presumably ended in a watch on the other side.
His eyes were still as fathomless and mesmerising as they’d always been, and Hermione suddenly realised that his dark orbs were studying her in return, and she wondered if he’d also witnessed Draco’s apology. She flushed a painful shade of red, but seemed to be caught in his gaze as she watched his raven eyebrow slowly rise and the corner of his mouth twitch.
When she finally managed to snap her mouth closed, much to her embarrassment her teeth captured her bottom lip. Oh, my sweet Merlin, did he almost smile at me? And she tore her eyes from his and cleared her throat. His reaction to her made the guilt she felt at having left him without aid the day of the battle roar into life again.
“Yeah?” said Harry, from beside her.
Now he notices, Hermione thought, and she mentally rolled her eyes. But then I’m pleased that he didn’t see what just happened between Malfoy and me. “Pardon?” she questioned, feigning innocence.
“You cleared your throat,” he told her.
“Oh… err, nothing… it’s nothing,” she said, and snuck another look up at Snape from under her lashes as soon as Harry’s attention went back to Ron. However, she quickly looked down at her plate when she realised he was still looking at her, and he seemed quite amused.
That was when Draco chuckled, before he leant over and whispered, “Yes, now he’s dropped the glamours that made him look so nasty, he’s quite dishy, isn’t he?”
Hermione giggled nervously and straightened her cutlery. “Oh… err, yes, glamours… umm, yes, of course.”
It was at that moment that Ron took exception to Draco’s presence. “Oi, what’s he doin’?” he whispered loudly, leaning close to Harry’s ear.
Hermione looked around, but it was just in time to see Ginny stop behind Harry. She glared at Hermione, but Hermione ignored her, and listened as Harry answered Ron.
“Sitting, just like the rest of us,” Harry whispered back.
Ron pouted. “Well, I’m not sure I like it,” he replied, glaring at Draco.
Hermione’s eyes narrowed, and she called Ron out for being rude. “Hello, Ronald. We are sitting right beside you, we can hear everything you’re saying you know.” She watched Ron turn his glare on her, but she stared back. Malfoy had approached her, and she was not going to be nasty. What he’d said as he sat was true; in this coming year they were going to have to set an example for the younger years, so they needed to start doing this as soon as possible.
It was as she was staring Ron out that she heard Ginny demand, “I want to sit with Harry, move!”
“Pardon, Ginny,” Hermione replied, unmoved by her demand.
“I said move,” she repeated.
Hermione crinkled her brow. “Why?”
She rolled her eyes in a ‘duh, isn’t it obvious’ kind of way, and tsked. “Because I want to sit next to Harry,” she repeated more pointedly.
Hermione turned to Harry. “Harry, do you mind me sitting here? Would you rather Ginny sit next to you?”
Harry looked at Ginny. “There’s plenty of free chairs, Gin, you don’t need to steal Hermione’s chair.”
“Yeah, Ginny, stop bothering ‘Mione,” Ron put in, “she obviously wants to sit next to the slimy Slytherin.”
“Oh, ha ha,” Draco snipped and turned his attention to the other Slytherins who had been arriving while the stand-off had been building.
By this time Hermione was wondering if she actually wanted to stay if they were going to start snipping at one another. She felt displaced and her throat was starting to become tight as she watched Ginny stomping around to sit next to Luna. Her world felt like it was slipping sideways. There had been so many new discoveries just this afternoon and nothing felt like it should anymore. She cleared her throat tightly as their first course arrived.
Distractedly looking around the tableHermione’s eyes started to wander back to the professors sitting around the opposite side of the table. My, Professor Sprout looks tired, and Professor Flitwick seems to have aged. Her eyes flitted past the new head of Gryffindor, because she knew that Charlie Weasley had taken Hagrid’s position as Care of Magical Creature’s professor, as well as the head of Gryffindor. Apparently Hagrid hadn’t wanted to come back to teaching after the war, and he had returned to his Gamekeeper, Keeper of The Keys role.
Then she occupied herself eating her meal for some time, but soon her eyes wandered back to Snape. She still couldn’t get over the changes in him, or the quiver in her stomach every time she looked at him, especially when he caught her looking. Then there was Malfoy beside her; he’d been quite attentive until the Greengrass sisters had arrived, but he’d made his point, and she realised that flirting was in his nature, and further that it was fairly harmless.
Truly, she did realise that Malfoy was only pulling her chain, but the professor… Why was he watching her? She glanced at Harry and Ron. She knew as far as Ron was concerned Slytherins would be forever forbidden to her, and that rankled, but that was Ron. He just hadn’t accepted that there should be change yet.
She was happy to see Harry and Ron talking again. She still did not know what had really happened to make Ron scamper back to England like he had a fire in his tail, but she had a fair idea that it was something to do with Harry’s sexual proclivities, and she wondered if Harry had tried something with Ron. It had been fairly easy for her to see that Harry liked guys and not girls, but it was something that her dearest friend never talked to her about.
She sighed quietly. He would when he was ready, she considered and came back from her thoughts as the headmistress tapped her glass to gain everyone’s attention.
“Good evening, everyone,” Minerva McGonagall said. “Further to our meeting this afternoon, I have some more information for you.” She took a breath and started to speak again. “Several of your number have asked me which of the senior years the head boy and girl will be chosen from, so I’ve elected to inform you of the circumstances without the younger students being present,” and she paused and scanned the room.
“It has been decided that the traditional roles will be taken by seventh years. However, new positions have been created to involve the pair of students who would, under normal circumstances, have been the head girl and boy. The board of governors have sanctioned the creation of two peer support positions for the pair who would have been chosen had you completed seventh year under normal circumstances. In fact, as these people are both adults they will be something like assistant teachers.” Minerva paused once more and glanced around the room.
“So, who have you chosen?” Seamus called out.
“Thank you, Mister Finnigan,” the headmistress said, clearing her throat tightly, as a titter of laughter cascaded around the table. “It gives me great pleasure to announce that the new peer support positions will be filled by Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger.” There was applause and the headmistress gestured for the two in question to stand. She walked around the table and presented them both with a badge, something that Hermione for one wanted to sneer about.
This place and its bloody badges for everything, she thought. However, she was drawn from this thought when the clapping died down by a frantically whispered conversation.
“That should have been you,” Ginny was saying across the table to Harry.
“No!” Harry was heard to whisper emphatically.
Harry sat there a little shocked that Ginny would think he should have been chosen. “I’m happy for Hermione,” he replied quietly.
“No,” Ginny declared louder. “You should have the greatest honour, not miss brown-nose Slytherin suck up.”
Hermione had just been sitting back down when she’d heard Ginny’s comment, and she gasped in shock, drawing Ginny’s attention to her.
“Yeah, that right, Madam. Ever since you’ve come back you’ve been sucking up to Malfoy here.”
Hermione’s brow crinkled. “What?”
Ginny was now on her feet. “You heard me, first you steal my boyfriend and now you’re sucking up to a bloody Malfoy.”
“I’ll have you know, Weasley,” a very frosty Astoria Greengrass said, “that Draco Malfoy is my fiancé, and he would never sully his name with a mud…” she cleared her throat, glancing nervously around the table, and thinking better about using such a name, she said, “With the likes of her,” and she directed a withering stare towards Hermione.
Harry glared at both witches. “That’s enough,” he said, looking at Astoria. “Now is not the time or place,” and he turned to Ginny. “Hermione has stolen nothing from anyone. Now, both of you, sit down.”
“Are you going to allow him to speak to me like that, Draco?” Astoria asked Draco, obviously furious.
“Well, he’s right,” Draco replied, glaring at the witch next to him before leaning closer to her and hissing under his breath. “And you know as well as I do, that we do not air…” but Ginny drowned him out.
“She’s turning into a Death Eater, Harry. Can’t you see that?”
“Hey, that’s way out of line, Gin,” Ron put in. “Sit down,” and he stood as well.
However, that was when things spiralled down into total mayhem, but all heads turned as Professor Snape stood. “Silence!” he commanded. “Miss Greengrass, sit down. I will speak to you following this dinner,” he warned, and glanced at Aurora Sinistra as she did nothing to scold the girl in her care as the new head of Slytherin. Then he turned on Ginny. “And Miss Weasley, do as you have been asked!”
Astoria was cowered by her former head of house, but Ginny turned cold hard eyes to the professor. “You’re a great one to defend her, you’re a Death Eater!”
Minerva McGonagall seemed to recover at this point, about the same time as Charlie Weasley, and they both started speaking at the same time adding to the cacophony.
Hermione was mortified that such things had been said about her. She sat watching as everyone around her started fighting, and she couldn’t believe that it had come to this again in such a short time, or how close to the surface most people’s triggers still were.
This was not want she wanted. She had not put her life off for two years only to come back to England and have it come undone by the words of two jealous idiots less than twenty four hours after she’d arrived. She looked around the room. Most of the teachers were looking on in horror, as were some of her meeker peers, but then she saw the headmistress and Hermione’s anger boiled over. Is she actually telling Professor Snape off for sticking up for me? she questioned to herself, and that was the thing that made her snap. Bloody Gryffindors, they will always be the same, too hot headed for their own good.
Then suddenly she was on her feet. “Sonorous,” she cried, pointing her wand to her throat. “Enough!” her magically magnified voice demanded, and she was gratified that there was instant silence, much the same as there had been when the professor had commanded it. So she started talking before the shock wore off. She cancelled the spell and turned to the teachers present and said, “I apologise for what I am about to say, but I have well and truly had enough.” She then looked to Professor Snape. “Thank you for your words of support, sir,” she said.
She looked away before she saw him incline his head to her, as she glanced pointedly at Astoria and Ginny. “I have come back to Hogwarts to complete my education. I could have easily gone to one of the other magical schools and done so two years ago, but I wanted to be loyal to Hogwarts. However, in the light of this fiasco tonight, I find myself realising that very little has changed while I have been absent from England, and things need to change if we are to avoid another reign of terror similar to the one Tom Riddle brought down on us. I firmly believe that unity is the key. Draco Malfoy and I will be working closely this year in our roles as student representatives, and we have agreed between the two of us to set a benchmark in behaviour. Between us we represent the two furthest extremes in the conflict we endured, and if we can agree to work together, to put our personal differences aside, then we expect that everyone else can too.”
By the time she’d finished speaking Hermione could feel her throat starting to constrict again. This hadn’t happened to her for over a year, but the stress of the day was starting to get to her. She did not often lose her temper, but the situation Ginny had caused was not right, nor were the assumptions the Greengrass girl had made. This had to be nipped in the bud, and as she was thinking this she heard Draco draw in a breath beside her and she gratefully sat down as her head began to swim and her heart started to thump.
“Miss Granger is correct. Today I have seen several Gryffindors trying very hard to include Slytherins in their activities, overlooking the situation our houses found themselves in because of past circumstances. I hope that we can continue to build on this beginning and make it an enjoyable year for everyone.” He then walked around Hermione and held his hand out to Harry. “Potter… Harry,” he corrected. “Would you be interested in forming an eighth year Quidditch team? An inter-house team.”
Harry looked at Draco’s hand for a moment, and then grasped it firmly. “Umm… yes,” he replied, pulling away from the hand shake, but there was a tentative smile on his face, and he looked to the headmistress. “Could we, ma’am?”
“Oh,” McGonagall gasped. “I suppose so… I’ll look into it.”
Draco smiled. “Then you can be team captain, Potter,” and he looked over to the sullen looking Ginny. “Would that satisfy you, Miss Weasley?”
Ginny just glared at him and sneered.
“Well, perhaps not,” Draco said under his breath, but then he looked at Hermione. While he’d been talking to Harry she’d sat again and she was shaking badly and struggling to breathe. “Steady on, Granger, it’s okay.”
“Not okay, I think I need some fresh air,” she replied in a constricted voice.
Harry heard and turned to her. He saw what was happening and then turned to the headmistress. “Excuse us for a moment,” he said and helped Hermione out of her seat. “Breathe, ‘Mione. Count backwards, you know that helps,” he whispered as he started supporting her as he walked her from the hall.
However, McGonagall followed. “Is there a problem?” she asked.
“Please, Ma’am, allow me to get Hermione somewhere she feels secure and then I’ll answer your questions when I return.”
“Is she injured? Has she been hexed? Does she need the infirmary?” McGonagall insisted.
They had made it outside the hall now, but the headmistress still would not see that Harry wanted to get Hermione somewhere away from stress, or that her demanding questions were only adding to that stress.
Watching them leave, Severus recognised what was happening to Hermione and he was quickly on his feet and following after, saying to Filius as he left, “Best keep things moving, Filius.”
“Oh yes, righto,” the Charms professor replied.
As Severus approached the trio who’d made it to the bottom of the grand staircase, Severus heard Harry Potter pleading with the headmistress to allow him to get Hermione somewhere safe, and this reinforced his view that she was having a panic attack. Then he heard her gasping for breath as she spoke.
“Need to sit down, Harry, please.”
“Minerva, desist,” Severus barked. “Can’t you see that Miss Granger is suffering from what has just been inflicted on her? Allow Potter to help her.”
Then Severus squatted down in front of Hermione, who was clinging to the banister as she fought for her breath, her eyes full of panic. “Miss Granger, look at me,” he commanded. He watched her panicked eyes rise to his and he made his voice as soothing as he could. “Concentrate for me, and count.” Then he started counting for her. “Two hundred and fifty-three. The number four below…” he said.
“We usually start from one hundred,” Harry told him.
Severus shook his head and heard Hermione say, “Two hundred and forty-nine,” in a raspybreathy voice.
“Excellent,” Severus replied. “Continue… Two hundred and forty…”
“Five,” came the reply. Then, “Two hundred and forty-one… T-Two hundred and thirty seven.”
Her breathing continued to even out as she counted, and even as tears started over her lashes she counted. She raised shaky hands to her face. “I’m sorry,” she gulped, still wiping at her tears. Then she looked to her Potions teacher. “How did you know?”
“Experience,” he replied. “Can you stand?”
“Just give me another minute,” Hermione replied. She was still shaking badly.
Severus nodded and dug in his pocket for a handkerchief. “Here,” he said, offering the square of fabric to her.
“Thank you,” she whispered and started wiping her eyes.
Severus turned away, standing in front of her as he was confronted with an angry headmistress.
“How dare you scold me, Severus Snape,” Minerva stated tightly.
“Your questions were enflaming the situation, Minerva,” was all he said, and then turned to Harry. “I realise that one hundred is the recognised starting point, but for a witch such as Miss Granger, the attack will settle much faster the more complicated the distraction, her brain needs a more complicated path to circumvent such an advanced attack.”
“Oh,” Harry replied, surprised that Severus Snape knew what was going on with just one look.
Severus glanced back to Minerva. “I’m certain that when she feels up to it, Miss Granger will tell you her story,” and he looked to Hermione for her agreement.
“Yes, I’m sorry, ma’am,” she replied in a stilted voice. “I’m afraid that loud and hostile situations bring on a panic reflex in me. It started after the Final Battle, but I haven’t had one for quite a while. I try to stay out of situations that might bring them on, but…” and she shrugged, seeing that in McGonagall’s eyes she had somehow lost the elder witch’s esteem because she’d admitted a weakness. “May I go to my room now, please?”
“If you feel you must,” McGonagall stated coolly. “Perhaps I may have to rethink some of your responsibilities if you cannot handle them,” she continued.
With as much presence of mind as she could muster, Hermione drew herself up to her full height, and this was made better by the fact the she was two steps up the stairs. “Professor, I can assure you that I can handle my responsibilities. Good night,” and she turned away. Turning her eyes to Harry. “I’ll be fine, Harry, you go back to dinner.” Then she looked to the man standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Thank you, professor, I appreciate your help.”
Severus inclined his head to her. “No thanks are required, Miss Granger. I’ll provide you with some small doses of Calming Draught in case you need them.”
“Thank you, I would appreciate that.”
Despite having been told by Hermione that she’d be all right, Harry took her arm and started leading her up the stairs, and as the headmistress turned and headed back into The Great Hall, Severus stood and watched them climbing the stairs and then turning into the first floor corridor. He had the urge to follow her, but knew that he would not be popular for doing so.
He waited for them to disappear around the corner and he turned back to the hall. He would check on her later when he delivered her potions.
As he walked he pondered the events of the evening. He arrived back at the table and retook his seat.
Potter returned after some minutes, and Severus saw a very smug looking Ginny Weasley slide into what should have been Miss Granger’s empty seat, and start trying to ingratiate herself all over a scowling Harry Potter, while Draco was now sitting with his back to all of the Gryffindors.
It looked like all the good work that had been done tonight, has been undone by one person’s selfish act. It’s ridiculous that the Weasley girl expected Potter to have the place Miss Granger had worked so hard to get.
He stared at Minerva, then that hard-nosed bitch threatened to take the one thing that’s supposed to be the concession for not being head girl, but at this point he sighed softly as he pondered further. Poor Miss Granger, she must be bitter that she’s waited all this time and she’s still denied the position she actually wanted. I know Draco was furious that he missed out on being head boy. Then he censured his thoughts. Poor girl? What are you thinking, Snape? You can’t think that about her. It’s one thing to be planning to make it up to her for past injustices, but it’s entirely another thing to be thinking of her as a damsel you need to save.
He glanced at Weasley, talking animatedly with Brown, Abbott and Patil. I wonder where he sits in all of this.
~~~***~~~
Finally, Severus escaped the hideous dinner. He’d had words with the little Greengrass snob about bringing the already tarnished Slytherin reputation into further disrepute, and then he’d taken Sinistra to task over not acting on the matter.
He was still livid over what had happened to make Hermione Granger leave, as he stormed towards the door, eager to make certain that the Gryffindor witch was in fact all right. He didn’t even ponder why he was so upset about things.
By coincidence he found that he was heading out the door at the same time as Draco and Blaise were. “In a hurry to get somewhere, gentlemen?” he asked, trying to rein in his temper as he spoke to them
“Yes,” Draco answered. “Is Miss Granger all right?”
“She has gone to her room, presumably to rest,” Snape replied.
“This is going to be much harder than we thought it was, isn’t it?” Blaise commented.
“Yes, I believe it is,” Severus replied.
“Granger’s right, but it’s too late now. I wish there was somewhere else,” Draco said, as they rounded the corner into the library corridor. “I must admit that I’d like to be wherever that odious Greengrass witch isn’t,” he muttered. “I can’t imagine what my parents were thinking promising me to her. I might have been able to stomach her sister, but Astoria is simply an immature, shallow snob.”
“Mmm,” Severus hummed, he didn’t want to say too much to Draco, but he actually agreed with Draco. He had always hated the thought of arranged marriages.
They all nodded to Violet in her portrait as they went through the office door.
“I’ll join you in a moment, I promised Miss Granger some Calming Draught,” Severus stated, and he turned towards his own door.
The boys entered the other sitting room and saw Hermione comfortably sitting in a chair by the fire, her hands curled around a mug of tea. She seemed to be deep in thought, but looked around when she heard the door. “Hello,” she murmured, and drained the last of her mug. “I think I’ll catch an early night,” she stated after a moment. “There’s still tea in the pot if you want some,” she told them, getting up and carrying her mug back to the tray.
She nodded to them as she walked by. “Good night,” and had just started up the stairs when Severus opened the sitting room door.
“Miss Granger,” he said to gain her attention, and watched her come back down the few steps she’d ascended. “Calming Draught. You should take one phial when you feel the onset of an attack,” he told her, holding out a little wooden box filled with small phials. “I also thought you might be able to use this,” and he added a phial of pain potion to her hand.
“T-Thank you,” she said quietly. “My head is throbbing. I was just going to turn in.”
“Probably the best thing to do,” he told her. “Good night.”
“Good night, sir.”
Hermione finished climbing the stairs, still totally in awe of this new nicer Severus Snape; it just didn’t seem possible. On top of that, she was still wondering how she was going to manage this. Apart from anything to do with living around her new room-mates, she’d thought that her panic attacks were a thing of the past, but tonight had proven that assumption wrong.
She went through her bedroom door and leaned against it, taking her pain potion. She stood there with her eyes closed and her head resting against the door waiting for the potion to do its job, and she sighed when the pain dulled and then trickled away. “What am I going to do?” she murmured after a few seconds of blissful silence. When no answer came she sighed and pushed off the door and she went to clean her teeth before bed.
~~~***~~~
Once he’d delivered the promised potions to the Gryffindor witch, Severus went back in his lab. He discarded his outer robes and frock coat, rolled up his sleeves and tied on his work apron.
He surveyed his work bench, but then sighed and sat in his desk chair and lit a cigarette as he thought about tonight and his reaction to Hermione Granger. Then he recalled the particulars of the meeting with the headmistress and her ‘hand-picked’ new Potions teacher, and he knew that he was in for a very difficult year.
Miss Granger had grown into a lovely witch—temptation personified—and then there was the new Potions teacher the headmistress had introduced her chosen replacement to him yesterday. Severus had sat through his introduction in disgust, wondering if he could leave without completing his contract.
The witch Minerva had chosen had been a perfumed peacock, who’d appeared just as vain and shallow as the bird he’d compared her to. Severus had no doubt that she had the ability to turn into a viper with the least provocation as well. In fact, she’d reminded him very much of a female Horace Slughorn, but worse than that, she seemed intent on ingratiating herself onto him as some sort of would-be paramour.
He’d no choice but to accept her as the new Potions teacher, as he’d relinquished the outward appearance of being the headmaster to Minerva. He was leaving once he’d fulfilled the implementation of the new curriculum, but when he’d found out that the blasted witch had only trained in Charms and Magical Perfumery he had almost choked on his tea.
Coming back from his recollections Severus chuckled to himself. “Self-important dunderheaded bitch,” he murmured. “Thank goodness I will not need to have anything to do with her.” He took the last drag on his fag and raised an eyebrow. Miss Granger however, there are many things I’d like to have to do with her, he considered in his head. Then he stubbed his cigarette perhaps a little more violently than necessary. Well, that’s not going to be possible, is it? And seriously, Snape. You should be appalled with yourself lust after a girl of twenty something.
Really, he was only staying this year so he could have the chance to teach those who’d deserved better teaching than he’d been able to deliver to them during the war. To that end he’d agreed to teach a hand-picked eighth year Potions class as he developed the new Defence Studies syllabus.
He had only accepted students into his Potions class who had gained an outstanding in their OWLs results, the remainder were being absorbed into the seventh year class. Therefore only three students had been admitted into his class; Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and Hermione Granger, and he leaned forward in his chair and steepled his fingers at his lips, as he considered his only female student.
Hermione Granger was the one he owed the most to. He’d had to treat her very badly to keep her alive, but this year he intended to make it up to her. It’s one thing to want to make amends, but it’s another thing entirely to lust after her, but he chuckled. “But she certainly has matured into a lovely witch,” he murmured as he rose to collect himself a snifter of brandy.
As he walked he considered Minerva’s treatment of her tonight. Gryffindors do not like weakness, but then he chuckled softly, again remembering the look on Minerva’s face when he’d told her to shut up earlier.
There was still a good deal of animosity between Minerva and himself. They’d really never seen eye to eye. Then he snorted to himself. It must have galled her that the board of governors decided that I was the only person qualified to develop the new curriculum when she thought she’d been shy of me.
Defence Against The Dark Arts had been scraped as a subject. It was felt that the taint of the curse Riddle placed on the position would never truly go away, but the older years needed something to replace it with, and he had been asked to develop the new curriculum.
The new subject would be an elective like Arithmancy or Study of Ancient Runes, and would be aimed at those who wished to become Aurors more than anything, as it had been proven that defence skills were simply lost on those who were not interested in learning them.
Again he’d had very strict ideas of who he accepted for his classes, but the only person in the eighth year class who had received an outstanding in his OWL, Defence exam had been Harry Potter, and that would make for a very small class, so he had lowered his expectation to Exceeds Expectation.
The subject would only be a NEWT level exam. Children did not need to know defences against dark arts that most of them would never come into contact with. So he was only teaching years six, seven and eight. He sighed and downed his brandy, finally getting up to start his tasks for the evening.
Chapter 3: Getting Started Again
Notes:
Disclaimer:-
I neither own nor own anything from this story. My plot is my own but the world of Harry Potter is the intellectual property of JK Rowling and associates.~~~***~~~
A/N:-
Big thank you to my beta, Golden Asp, for her work on this chapter, and my apologies that my posting schedule has slowed down. I have my last exam tomorrow, and then I have a month before I start again, so things should speed up a bit. :-) (for all my stories)
Chapter Text
Because she’d gone to bed relatively early, Hermione woke early the next morning. She lay there for some time looking out her bedroom window contemplating, what she should do. She watched the sun rising and suddenly had the urge to be outside enjoying the early morning calm, and besides, a good run might help clear her head. She tossed the covers back and padded quietly to her bedroom window and watched the landscape waking up for a moment longer, before she smiled and headed to her bathroom.
Once she’d returned to her bedroom, she dressed in track pants and a tank top, laced up her trainers, grabbed a hoodie and left. To her surprise as she was walking towards the office door to leave, Professor Snape came into the office from his side.
“Feeling better this morning, Miss Granger?” he asked.
She smiled. “Yes, thank you, sir,” she replied, as she took in his rolled up shirt sleeves and work apron, and her stomach somersaulted at the usually forbidden sight of his wiry, well-muscled forearms. She’d never seen him like this before, and it made her slightly giddy that he did not seem bothered that she was seeing him like this now. “I was just going for a run,” she said.
“It is an excellent time for that,” he replied, and opened the office door for her. “After you.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, and started down the hallway. She had never seen him so casual, and it was delicious. To her further surprise he fell into step with her and they continued to walk until they got to the front doors of the castle. They walked in silence, but Hermione was simply happy to be in his company.
“Well, good day, Miss Granger,” and he walked off towards the greenhouses.
She stood there looking after him for some time, wishing she had the nerve to follow him. She assumed that he was working and that he’d needed a fresh ingredient, and she smiled as she watched him striding away, she was overjoyed about how he was treating her. It fed her hope that she might be able to get to know him, and she turned towards the lake with an added spring in her step.
Hermione ran for almost an hour but she did not see the professor again. She stopped in at The Great Hall when she returned, and after casting a quick freshening charm on herself, she had an early breakfast to avoid everyone else.
Professor Sprout and Neville were the only other people in the hall while she breakfasted, and Neville had come down and asked if she was feeling better this morning.
“I’m fine, Neville, but I’m already over the theatrics Ginny put on last night. Not to even mention what that Greengrass girl said.”
Neville grimaced. “Yes, it was all very uncalled for.” He glanced back to his professor and then said, “Well, I better get going, we’re pruning Devil’s Snare this morning.”
“Okay, have a good day, Neville.”
“You too, ‘Mione,” he called back, as he and Professor Sprout walked towards the teacher’s exit.
Hermione then escaped back to her room, happy to have reacquainted herself with some of the delights of Hogwarts and pleased that she’d not met anyone who she didn’t want to see.
She managed to stay away from almost everyone all day. The only person she went out of her way to find was Charlie Weasley, and that entailed a hike down to Hagrid’s old hut, which was now his classroom. Hagrid was living further inside The Forbidden Forest, closer to Grawp.
As she approached, Hermione saw Charlie and his partner Gavin in with the hippogriffs. She waited for them to acknowledge her, so as not to take their attention off the notoriously fickle beasts.
“Hey, Hermione,” he said, after a few moments, walking over and giving her a peck on the cheek. “What can I do for you?”
“Hi, Professor,” Hermione replied, embracing Gavin in the same way as Charlie.
“Charlie,” he told her, cutting her off. “I’m not your professor, and besides, it would just feel weird you calling me that.”
“Are you sure?” Hermione responded, glancing between them.
The men climbed up and sat on the enclosure fence and motioned for her to give them her arms and they pulled her up between them.
“Yes, sure. Now, tell me, how are you?” Charlie inquired.
Hermione grimaced. “Well, okay. I’ve come to see you for two reasons.”
“Yes?” Charlie said.
“I came to ask you if I can have my timetable today, please.”
“Sure, but they’re up in my office. We’ll walk up once we’ve finished here,” Charlie said. “And the other reason?” he asked kindly.
“Well, I thought I owed you some sort of explanation for my hasty exit last evening.”
“What? Apart from the fact that you were escaping the juvenile antics of my sister and that Greengrass girl?” He patted Hermione’s hand. “I think you did the right thing leaving. There were a number of us who wished we could have left with you. Such a horrible spectacle.”
“Yes, I heard what Charlie said to Ginevra in his office last night, and once he’d sent her away he told me that Severus had flayed both the Greengrass girl and Aurora Sinistra alive before he’d stormed out of the Hall,” Gavin told Hermione.
“He did?” Hermione gasped. “Wow!”
“Someone’s got a fan,” Charlie teased, bumping her with his elbow.
Hermione forced herself to be pragmatic, even as she felt the blush rising on her face. “It is true that Professor Snape has been civil towards me in a way he never has been, but so have Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. However, I’m certain it has nothing to do with any of them being my ‘fans’,” and she used air-quotes. “They, like Harry and I, can see that we need to implement changes from within,” she stated earnestly, and looking terribly serious.
However, Charlie was determined to tease. “Oh, so you’ve got… in fact, you’re living with an entire fan club,” he chuckled, and then he cackled louder when her blush deepened.
“Stop it,” Gavin told him, and then the quiet man—who reminded Hermione a lot of Remus Lupin—changed the subject. “Harry and Ron were here a while ago, but they were on their way to visit Hagrid and Grawp,” he told her. “Would you like me to fly you over to them?”
“Oh… umm,” Hermione hesitated.
“It’ll be okay. I’ll take extra care,” Gavin said, knowing how cautious Hermione was of flying.
Gavin was a dragon animagus, and Hermione was pretty certain that this was part of the reason Charlie and he got on so well, but she was happy to see that Charlie had finally found someone.
“If you want to catch up with Harry and Ron, I could drop your timetable onto the desk in your office,” Charlie said, jumping down off the fence.
Gavin followed him and seamlessly changed into a smallish—for a dragon—Antipodean Opaleye. The creature was beautiful, and Hermione considered that he might be unique amongst animagi, but while she’d been pondering this she heard Charlie encouraging her.
“Go on, ‘Mione,” he said, and before Hermione had made up her mind, he’d picked her up and set her astride the dragon, conjuring a saddle with a breast plate to make her more comfortable as he did so. “Don’t worry, Gavin can drop you off, and then I’ll ride him up to our quarters when he gets back. Charlie kissed Gavin on the nose and the small dragon rubbed on Charlie’s cheek before he launched his powerful wings up into the air.
Charlie was right; it was only a short trip to Hagrid’s new hut on the back of a dragon, but Hermione hung on tightly as they soared over the trees, squealing as they took off. She had only just opened her eyes and started to relax a bit when they circled and Gavin lightly touched down outside the hut.
Hagrid and the boys were sitting on the front porch, and a quick look around told her that Grawp was not near. As much as she liked Hagrid, she found his half-brother a little too confronting, and she watched Harry hurrying over to help her down off the dragon.
“Boy, you’re lucky,” he joked in greeting. “Hagrid would give almost anything to have a ride on Gavin. Look at him, he’s green with envy,” he whispered. Then he turned to the animagus. “Hello again, Gavin.”
Dragon Gavin lifted his head and shot flames into the air in response and then screeched before taking off again, and they all heard Hagrid chortling with childlike happiness at the sight.
Harry and Hermione exchanged quiet snickers at the big man’s response and started to walk toward the hut.
However, Harry, ever the worried one said, “Are you feeling okay today? I should have come and checked on you, but I had… stuff to do. Then Ron caught up with me, and well…”
Hermione wanted to hug Harry for his nervous concern for her, but she simply reassured him. “I’m fine, Harry,” but as she took in her best friend’s dubious expression she added, “Really.” She also wanted to tell him that Professor Snape had been taking good care of her, but she thought that would not be what Harry wanted to hear, and it was actually a bit fanciful too.
The man had given her Calming Draught, a Headache Potion, and had walked down to the front doors with her this morning, and it was merely because they were going in the same direction. She knew that she was writing far too much into it, but all of that was so uncharacteristic of the man that she really did want to talk to someone about it, and Charlie’s gentle teasing had only served to add hope to her desire. She sighed to herself. You shouldn’t be contemplating thoughts like that, Granger, she thought as she mounted the steps up to Hagrid’s front porch. “Hi, Hagrid,” she stated cheerfully. “Ron,” she nodded.
“’Ello, ‘Ermione,” the half-giant said. “Look at ya, all growed up.”
Hermione smiled as she sat down in the only other chair. “It had to happen, Hagrid,” she said pragmatically. What a thing to say, she thought, but I guess he’s always been an awkward one, hasn’t he?
The big man sighed. “Yeah, but…” and he shrugged without finishing his sentence.
As they sat there together, an awkward silence descended, and Hermione soon decided that she needed to go again, but she was still wary of Ron, and didn’t want him deciding that he should walk her back. So she sat there in idle thought as the boys started talking again.
Hermione glanced at Ron. She didn’t want to think that he had decided that there might be a second chance for them. She also wondered if it had something to do with Harry still. Something had changed with Ron since she’d last seen him; he seemed to have become less open-minded.
She shrugged to herself. What was going on was still eluding her understanding, and that made her annoyed, but time would tell, as she didn’t like nasty surprises. She quickly became eager to leave, and took her chance as soon as Ron nicked inside to the loo. She wandered off towards the castle, but as soon as she was out of sight of Harry and Hagrid, she deviated onto another path just in case Ron decided to catch up with her. She knew it was cowardly, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
~~~***~~~
Once she returned, Hermione found her timetable, and spent the remainder of her afternoon in her room studying it and constructing a schedule, but finally the dreaded hour to face everyone came. It was with some trepidation that she donned her new uniform and took herself down to The Great Hall for Hogwarts’ first official Welcoming Feast in over two years.
Missing out on the honour of being head girl, an honour she’d always hoped she might have qualified for, still stung. It was just another thing to be bitter about, and it was very much still eating at her. Mind you, she was determined to show that she was unaffected by it, no matter how upset she felt.
Then, on walking to the doors of The Great Hall, she found that things were again different from what she’d expected. Bloody hell, the glorious new headmistress could have warned us about this, her mind screamed at her, as she stopped in her tracks and searched the room, trying to make sense of what was she saw in front of her.
Where, last night they’d sat at a large table in the centre, tonight there were eight large round tables, and as she was working out what to do, Neville stopped beside her.
“It’s all very confusing, isn’t it?” he said kindly. “Apparently students are to sit in year groups now, not house groups.”
“Oh,” Hermione murmured. Couldn’t the old bat have told us that last night? her mind asked, and she was just about to answer Neville when Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and Greg Goyle also stopped at the door much in the same way she had.
“What in blazes have they done now,” Draco muttered under his breath.
“This is getting stranger and stranger,” his companion answered just as quietly.
“Draco?” the brutish looking Goyle asked, his brow crossed in confusion.
“It’s okay, Greg,” Draco encouraged, and he looked to Neville and Hermione.
Surprisingly, it was Neville who answered. “H-H-hello, M-Malfoy, Zabini, Goyle,” he stuttered apprehensively, and he tittered more worriedly and turned to Hermione when the Slytherin wizards nodded civilly to him, and he quickly went on his way. “Well, I have to sit with Professor Sprout, I’ll see you later.”
“Okay, Neville,” Hermione replied, smiling, before she turned to the Slytherins and said, “Neville has just informed me that we’re to sit in year groups this year.”
Draco rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Merlin, give me strength,” and he took a deep breath and looked at her. “Then, may we escort you to the eighth year table, Granger?”
Their efforts to get to the eighth year table were made easier when they were guided by a very loud argument that was happening between Harry and Ginny. Ginny appeared to be claiming ownership of Harry again, and her blatant attitude that he was her possession was starting to grate on everyone.
By the time they had arrived at the table, Charlie Weasley was approaching his irate sister and taking her aside to speak with her, and Harry was looking very annoyed.
Draco held out the chair next to Harry for Hermione and then he, Goyle and Zabini sat next to her.
“What was that about?” Hermione said quietly.
“Nothing,” Harry muttered.
“Are you okay?”
Harry nodded, but remained silent, and they watched Charlie sitting Ginny between Luna and Hannah on the other side of the table.
Their attention was taken away from Ginny’s baleful stare at them when Ron—oblivious to Harry’s displeasure—plopped down into the chair next to Harry, and glared at the three Slytherins next to Hermione. Then he leaned over and whispered to Harry, “I still don’t like this.”
Hermione heard and snapped. “We are all merely sitting at the designated table, Ron. Get over it.”
“Okay, there’s no need to snip, Hermione,” Ron bit back, and then turned away from her.
Hermione had the urge to sneer; she hadn’t been in good spirits to start with. She knew that the only reason Harry would not have told her what Ginny’s problem was if it was something to do with her, and she suddenly felt a headache brewing in her temples.
However, she was saved from any further incidents as the headmistress tapped her fork on her goblet, and they all moved their attention to the front of the room. McGonagall then nodded to Mr Filch to open the doors and allow the first years to come in, and she came down from the high table and walked to the one vacant table at the front.
As Hermione was watching the headmistress settling their new students, her eyes were unexpectedly caught by someone arriving late, and she saw that it was Professor Snape, but she was instantly on the back foot when she saw that he had a witch on his arm, and he looked anything but pleased.
She knew she was staring, and perhaps she was even aware that her mouth was gaping open, but she was so astonished as she watched him seating the youngish looking woman. What the hell is he doing with a witch beside him? she thought as jealousy stabbed through her. Then the witch laid her hand on his arm and leaned over to whisper something to him, and Hermione settled a little when she saw the professor sneer at the witch in response to her comment and bat her hand way, but it was all still very confusing.
Headmistress McGonagall was now back to her place at the teacher’s table, but she did not sit. Instead she spoke. “Good evening everyone. Welcome to Hogwarts. Some of you may be wondering why we’re not having a Sorting Ceremony tonight,” and her eyes glanced slowly around the hall. “One of Hogwarts greatest past headmasters, Professor Albus Dumbledore, was of the opinion that sorting happened too early. Therefore, it has been decided by the Board of Governors that students will now be sorted as they enter their second year. We believe this step to be very prudent given our recent history.”
Her words had only just died away when Hermione’s head spun around on hearing the scraping of a lone chair next to her, and she watched as Draco Malfoy stood and started clapping. Blaise Zabini and Greg Goyle followed Draco’s example, and then Hermione, Harry and Neville were next, followed by other students who had been pinned into their house loyalties and forced into a the war because of it.
The former head of Slytherin house was the first teacher to stand and start applauding, and he was quickly joined by the new head of Gryffindor and the other heads of house, as many people around the hall sat there confused at what was happening. However, as more heads started rising, and others joined them, the applause became thunderous.
Apart from the first years, who probably only had a sketchy idea of what had happened during the war, if that. Anyone who had been through the horrors of the war, or studied or taught here during the last year of it knew what an awful place Hogwarts was without its magic. The applause became more than just an acknowledgement to a well-loved wizard, who so many of them still remembered as such a great headmaster of Hogwarts, and it became an outpouring of relief and happiness to be back here, and have the school back to normal, even with all the new changes.
This in turn made those who had been here remember the man whose leadership during that troubled time had strived to make it as safe as possible for all the students, despite the resident Death Eaters. It was said that he had almost sent himself insane interceding between those intent on causing harm to the students, and the students they targeted.
No one seemed to know how he’d done it, but every time a situation got out of control, Severus Snape was there fixing it. He was always callous and cutting of course, but really, what else could he have been, and suddenly the ovation, cheers and wolf-whistles were aimed at this bravest of men. Hermione was ecstatic that the professor was being thanked, and this was the best way possible; by almost unanimous proclamation.
She felt her eyes moisten, remembering the scene in the Shrieking Shack, but then the familiar guilt flooded her once more, and she glanced at Harry who was smiling and clapping his dour protector. He’d had been blissfully ignorant about the professor’s true allegiances for the entirety of his school years, and it had been only afterwards that he’d finally worked it out - once he’d seen the memories given to him by the man when he’d thought he was dying after being bitten by that hideous snake.
Harry had told Hermione later that he thought he’d actually realised it as he had been confronting the reluctant headmaster here in this very hall the day of the battle, but it hadn’t sank in until afterwards when he’d had time to process it. Then he realised that he’d been watching the professor deflecting McGonagall’s curses back onto the Carrows standing behind him. Then Harry had realised that the professor had rendered the evil siblings unconscious so he could disappear to complete his mission.
Then Hermione’s eyes looked at the headmistress, and she noticed that her former head of house was looking around the room a little bemused, and Hermione could not help the next thought that slipped into her head - was Minerva McGonagall the best choice for the head of the school? So far Hermione had not been terribly impressed with her, but then perhaps she was forming a hasty opinion, and her eyes flitted to Snape. It must be very awkward for him too, she thought.
It was fair to say that Minerva McGonagall was astonished at the reaction to her words about Dumbledore, and especially that Slytherins had instigated the whole episode, and she worked hard to hide her sneer. She had never liked Slytherins, however, she allowed them their moment, even if she refused to acknowledge anything.
The jubilation finally died down, and the headmistress spoke again. “As you will notice there are some new faces here amongst the teachers. Hogwarts welcomes Professor Weasley as our new Care of Magical Creatures teacher, and head of Gryffindor.”
There was applause as Charlie stood and acknowledged the announcement, and as the headmistress watched him sit once more, she turned to Severus. “Professor Snape has agreed to remain on staff for this year. He will be teaching an advanced Potions class for some of the eighth years, and the initial year of our new elective, Magical Defence Studies, which replaces the Defence Against The Dark Arts subject.”
Severus simply sat in his seat and inclined his head to the smattering of applause this announcement received.
Minerva sniffed and continued. “Our new Potions teacher is Professor Ross, who comes to us from Amsterdam, and I hope you will all make her very welcome.” Here the headmistress paused as the new professor rose and accepted the polite applause, and she swallowed the sneer the threatened when Severus did not applaud. He’s up to something, I just know he is, she thought. Having the gall to tell me off yesterday; he’s so smug.
She tore herself away from her thoughts and continued with her announcements. “There is one more new face at the head table as well, Mister Longbottom. Mister Longbottom is Professor Sprout’s apprentice,” and Minerva waited as Neville shyly acknowledged more polite applause, and she looked to Hermione. “This brings me to our student leaders. Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy, would you stand please so the younger children know who you are?” She watched them stand. “Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy have agreed to act as our first Student Welfare Officers. Should any students have any questions or concerns then they should see either of these students; their office is located on the first floor, up the stairs towards the Training Grounds Tower. Now to our last student appointments; this year’s head boy or girl.” McGonagall took a breath before she spoke. “It was decided that we would continue the tradition of choosing the pair from the seventh years, regardless of the fact that this year we have a higher year, and because of this it has been left until tonight for them to be announced.”
She looked out over the students, and continued, “Therefore, it gives me great pleasure to appoint Lara Goodwood as head girl, and Colin Brocklehurst as head boy.” There was another outbreak of clapping and wolf-whistling. “This year the head boy and girl quarters are located outside the Albus Dumbledore Tower which will house the first years, and the duties of those just appointed will include shepparding our new first years.” She now indicated the first year table with her hand. “I ask the two relevant persons to now take their places at the first year table.”
Everyone watched Lara and Colin come over and sat with the obviously exhausted group of first years, and their reassuring smiles went a long way to settling the young students. Their badges appeared in their places as the headmistress announced their names, and they occupied themselves with placing them on their lapels once they were seated.
Minerva took another breath. “Now, only one more announcement,” she said, looking around the hall. “There has been a request from the returning eighth year students to form a Quidditch team to participate in our school league. Unfortunately The Board of Governors has decreed that adults competing against minors would be unethical. Therefore, it has been decided instead to allow a series of exhibition games between the eighth year team and visiting players and teachers etcetera. So, without further ado, let the feast begin,” and clapping her hands once, the food appeared.
As soon as the food appeared, Harry leaned over and whispered, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that McGonagall has rejected Malfoy’s idea because it was him who had it.”
“Mmm,” Hermione sighed.
“Yeah, but now we get to play against some big names,” Ron put in, his mouth already full of food.
“I guess so,” Harry conceded. “By the way, ‘Mione, congrats on your new position. I didn’t get a chance to say that last night,” Harry said, after agreeing with Ron that it would be exciting. “You too, Malfoy,” he said, glancing around Hermione.
Hermione felt her eyes prickling at Harry’s wish, and she cleared her throat, studying her dinner.
“I know you’re disappointed,” Harry said suddenly.
“I had thought that being head girl…” she whispered, glancing up at him, but was unable to finish her sentence.
Harry patted her hand. “It’s all right, love. I think student welfare officer is actually the perfect job for you.”
“Yeah, you and helping people,” Ron added, good-naturedly, rolling his eyes.
“I’m sure you won’t have any time to yourself,” Harry enthused.
They heard, Draco snicker from her other side, apparently he’d been listening as well. “And I think that’ll suit her fine, ay, Granger?” he scoffed.
Hermione tittered at his remark, but they heard Ron snip, “Hey, mind you your own business, Malfoy.”
Now, Weasleys and Malfoys had been natural enemies since Merlin’s time, but Draco had resolved that he wasn’t going to be dragged into any new fights this year, and especially not with redheads, so he shrugged and went back to his food.
However, Ron took this as victory and all but crowed, “What, too much for you, loser?”
Draco sighed, and there was a bite of his old venom in his words. “No, Weasley, it was not ‘too much’ for me, as you so eloquently put it. I’m just over the pettiness, so put a sock in it will you, I’m trying to eat.”
Hermione and Harry, glanced over as Ron’s expression turning shocked, and Harry said, “We’re all trying to eat, it’s been a long day.”
Chapter 4: Lessons Start and Boredom Sets In
Notes:
Disclaimer:- I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.
~~~***~~~
A/N:- Thank you all for you comments and kudos for the last chapter, I appreciate them all. Thank you also to, Golden Asp, for betaing this chapter. I also thought I’d add a small note here that this story will contain what the summary has promised, but the first seven chapters or so are building the story line before the club starts to become a reality.
Chapter Text
Hermione did not have her first lesson with Professor Snape until Tuesday, and it was Potions. Monday had been less than stellar; she’d had Charms, Transfiguration, double Arithmancy, and then more Charms after lunch - a double this time. Today she was hoping for better, and Potions was their first lesson of the day.
She did not miss the trip down to the dungeons or the fact that she would be in a class without time wasters. She crossed the threshold of their potion’s room with her two fellow classmates, and as soon as they walked in it was apparent that their teacher was going to treat them as none of their other teachers had so far.
“Good morning,” Severus said, looking up from his large work bench at the front of the room, as he finished his measurements and slipped the next ingredient into his potion.
Hermione smiled. It didn’t surprise her at all that he—out of all of their teachers—had realised that they were adults. Most of the teachers here had been cloistered away from everyone for so long that they’d become introverted in their teaching style, with set lessons that they did not deviate from no matter the level of accomplishment of the student.
She had been particularly disappointed with Arithmancy yesterday, and she hoped that Runes wouldn’t be as boring tomorrow. She very much wanted to learn more than she already knew where those two subjects were concerned. Of course, she didn’t spare much of a thought for History of Magic; it had always been boring and she did not expect that to change, but she turned her full attention to the professor now as he started to explain to them how their class would work.
“In this class, we are not going to concern ourselves with NEWT level work beyond the 2nd of October, it will then become assumed knowledge. We are going to use it as the foundation of our course, but then we are going to expand on it. As you can see there is one work station per person, and it is for your exclusive use. You may therefore leave your Potions kits here if you wish; they will not be tampered with.”
He waited for the three of them to choose a desk, and then he continued to speak. “In front of you is a parchment containing the list of the twelve examinable NEWT level potions. Your first task will be to memorise all twelve recipes. We will spend this month perfecting them, and then you will be choosing a personal project based on the one that most interests you, and that builds on it. Any questions?” he waited, his eyes moving between them. “No, very well, proceed.”
As she started work, Hermione reflected that the work space that had been provided was the best she’d ever seen. The desks they would use were smaller, carbon-copies of the professor’s large work area at the front of the room. She arranged her things in her work area and wondered if Hogwarts had paid for them. Somehow she thought not, but then she didn’t give it another thought as she happily set to work on her assigned task.
~~~***~~~
Down in the dungeons, Harry and Ron were also having their first Potions lesson, but things were not going so well. It was instantly apparent that Professor Ross knew nothing about controlling unruly behaviour. She’d probably had no trouble with the younger students, or even the older Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, but a class of Gryffindors and Slytherins, especially one with students with a history of being disruptive… well, that was something new.
Typical of this group of people, they’d all sensed her lack of authority and most of them were taking total advantage of it.
“This is mental,” Ron whispered to Harry. “This witch can’t control this class. What’s going to happen when we start brewing?”
Harry shrugged. “I guess we just need to stay away from anyone who’s likely to blow us up.”
“I wish ‘Mione was here,” Ron said.
“What good would that do? She’s better where she is, mate.”
“What, surrounded by Slytherins?”
“We’re surrounded by Slytherins,” and he looked around the classroom dubiously. “At least where ‘Mione is, none of the Slytherins are likely to hex her,” he whispered, glancing at Millicent Bulstrode watching him with a snarl on her face. “I don’t think we’re going to learn much here. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss Snape.”
Ron snorted. “You really are mental.”
“At least we knew we were safe with him.”
Ron sighed, glancing at the almost hysterical teacher at the front of the room. “Should we do something to help her, do you think?”
Before he’d had a chance to answer, Harry heard Ron’s stool scrap on the floor as he stood.
“Oi, you lot!” he yelled, and watched his friends as well as the Slytherins who were ignoring the teacher stop talking and look at him. “Harry an’ me would really like to pass Potions this year, so stick a sock in it, yeah.”
There was instant silence, and Pansy Parkinson actually clapped as she eyed the redhead with an unreadable expression.
Ron took it in, but then he also saw the daggers being glared at him, but he shrugged and simply turned away. “Professor,” he said.
However, the professor gave Ron a withering stare as well, and sniffed before sitting at her desk and saying, “Silent reading.”
At the end of the lesson, Ron was aware that he’d helped nothing. The professor was obviously upset that a student had more control over her class than she did, and most everybody else was pissed off with him for calling them out over their behaviour, and Ginny told him so as they walked back up from the dungeons.
“What the hell was that?” she demanded.
“Huh?” Ron replied, “we’re here to learn, Gin. I haven’t given up a year of earning money with George and playin’ with the Cannons to fail,” he told her.
“Well, I gave up stuff too,” she told him. “But Mum would have killed us if we hadn’t come back.”
Ron stopped and looked at her. “You know, sometimes I wonder about… Nuh, never mind,” and he shook his head and started walking again.
~~~***~~~
When Hermione heard what Ron had done she congratulated him, and over the course of the next few days, Ron started to accept Harry and Hermione’s idea that change had to happen between Slytherin and Gryffindor. However, Ginny Weasley and Astoria Greengrass remained belligerent.
The youngest Weasley still firmly blamed Hermione for the fact that Harry wanted nothing to do with her. The main problem was that Ginny had obviously not stopped to think that Harry might have chosen not to rekindle his relationship with her for another reason, or because he’d moved on. That didn’t seem to matter to the redhead; as far as she was concerned Hermione had stolen her boyfriend.
The only thing that saved Hermione from Ginny’s constantly spiteful stare was the fact that they only had about half of their classes together. Transfiguration, Charms, History of Magic and Defence Studies were the only classes where she had to put up with the constant negativity, the remainder of Hermione’s classes were Ginny and Astoria free.
~~~***~~~
The nineteenth of September arrived, and Hermione was fairly certain that no one would remember her birthday. She privately took a moment to savour turning twenty-one, but she didn’t expect anything. However, when she arrived at breakfast early, she was quite touched that Harry was there, and he slid a slim package across the table to her.
“Happy Birthday, love,” he said quietly.
“Oh, Harry, thank you,” she gasped, giving him a hug.
Of course, that was the moment that Ron turned up. “Oi, what you huggin’ ‘Mione for?” he asked. Ron had become very critical of Harry touching Hermione over the last few weeks, and Hermione was at a loss to understand why, because he was known to be involved with several witches within the student body, and she had very much hoped that Ron chasing after her was a finished subject.
“She’s twenty-one today,” Harry reminded Ron, giving Hermione a kiss on the cheek as their hug ended.
“Oh shit,” Ron muttered under his breath. “I’m sorry, ‘Mione, I forgot. Happy Birthday,” and he leant down and tried to give her a kiss on the lips.
Hermione turned her head so his lips only landed on her cheek. “Thanks, Ron,” she replied, opening the present that Harry had bought her. It was a delicate bracelet with a diamond encrusted H charm on it. “Oh, Harry, it’s lovely,” she gasped.
“We should have a party,” Ron decided, sitting down beside Hermione and draping his arm over the back of her chair.
“No!” Hermione was quick to say, leaning forward. “No, no parties. You know how much I hate them. Promise me, guys. No party!” she stated emphatically.
Hermione hated the type of parties Ron organised. They were nothing like she thought parties should be, and she decided that she would keep clear of everyone for the remainder of the day so they didn’t get any ideas. She was almost pleased when at this point Ginny turned up and everyone started eating breakfast without talking. Ron removed his arm from her chair so he could use both hands to shovel food onto his plate, and everything went quiet.
While the Gryffindors were taking so much notice of their breakfasts, had they cared to notice, they would have seen that their discussion about Hermione’s birthday had come to the attention of Slytherin ears, and the wheels started to turn inside the head of one Draco Malfoy.
As soon as she’d finished eating, Hermione made her escape from the table, after emphatically making certain that there would be no horrid surprises. In fact, she left in such a rush that she didn’t see Harry trying to follow her, only to be waylaid by Ron as he got up, and he didn’t want Ron to know yet what he wanted to discuss with Hermione, so he sat back down and continued their conversation.
~~~***~~~
That night, as Hermione stomped into their sitting room after spending an hour tutoring a seventh year Gryffindor—whose hands she’d had to keep dodging the whole time—she was surprised to find Draco waiting for her with cake.
“Happy Birthday, Hermione. I heard that you didn’t want a party, but I thought you might like cake and champagne.”
Hermione’s bad mood evaporated. “Oh, Draco,” she said, noticing that he had used her given name. “Thank you. Yes, I would… like cake and champagne that is.”
His lips tilted upward and he poured two glasses of the wine. “I was just going to leave it on your desk, because I wasn’t sure that you would want to celebrate with me, but then I saw what you did to the roses that Longbottom left for you.”
“They were from Neville?” Hermione gasped. I thought they might have been a joke…” She huffed. “Never mind.”
Draco cackled. “Yes, he came just before lunch.”
“Oh,” and Hermione’s lip slipped between her teeth as she remembered casting several detection spells on the roses before she touched them. The spells had not left the flowers looking their best, and it saddened her that she still had to be this vigilant here in England. She had become fairly laid back during their travels, as there had been no one who wished to hurt her. “He should have included a card maybe,” she said, blushing.
He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, I still test unknown packages too,” Draco replied. “Anyway, Happy Birthday,” and he handed her a glass.
They had a piece of cake each, and were on their second glass of champagne, and sitting talking about their day when the professor came in.
“And what do we have here?” he asked as he approached them. “A birthday, Miss Granger?”
“Umm, yes, sir. Would you care to join us?”
“Thank you, but unfortunately I have only come to deliver a private message to Draco.”
Hermione had been having a good time, but she easily took the hint that he didn’t want her to hear what he had to say. It hurt, but she got the message. “Then I will leave you both. I have an essay to finish before bed anyway,” she said. “Thank you for the cake and champagne, Draco, I enjoyed it very much. Good night.”
“That’s fine, Granger,” Draco answered. “Good night.”
“Good night, sir,” she stated as she walked by the professor.
He inclined his head to her. “And many happy returns, Miss Granger.”
“Thank you,” she replied mounting the stairs.
They watched her climb the stairs and shut the door of her room, and Draco said, “Well?”
“Well, what?” Severus replied, distracted by the look on Hermione’s face.
“You only came in here to wish her happy birthday, didn’t you?”
Severus glanced up at the recently closed door. “I do not know what you’re talking about,” he replied.
“So what’s this ‘private message’ then?” Draco challenged.
Severus had been to visit Narcissa’s sanatorium to deliver her potions, and he’d noticed with some concern that her condition had worsened significantly since his last visit, but suddenly it seemed cruel to tell Draco, and he merely said, “Your mother sends her best.”
“You could have told me that without chasing Granger away.”
His lips tightened at his godson’s rebuttal, but he was the one who’d requested the private meeting, so he replied, “You know what your mother is like.”
Draco sighed. “Yes, my apologies, Severus. How is she?”
“The potions seem to be still working.” Well, it was the truth, but they just weren’t working as well as they had been.
Narcissa had been badly injured in The Final Battle, and she now resided in an exclusive sanatorium. Severus made some of the more intricate potions she required, and delivered them about once a fortnight.
Draco nodded and sighed. “Thank you,” he said. “I better go and finish my own work. Are you still able to attend the board meeting with me tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Severus replied, turning to leave. “Good night.”
“Night,” Draco called from the kitchenette, where he placed what was left of Hermione’s cake in their small cool cupboard.
~~~***~~~
Another fortnight went by, and they were about half way through the first term. Draco and Hermione found their class work had gone from easy to bloody boring… well, all except for the two classes that Severus taught. They also seemed to be competing for the top position in every one of their classes, and as term wore on, Draco found himself admiring Hermione’s dedication and passion more and more.
They’d settled into an easy friendship after her birthday, and he often watched her, wondering why he’d never seen what an amazing person she was before. Well, he’d hated her early on because of his upbringing and the fact that he’d been punished every time she bested him in a class, but later… Why had he not seen through things then? He sighed as he thought, I should have, especially once his father’s attitude had started to soften. Of course, that was another story entirely, and Draco often wondered what had happened to make his father’s attitude change.
~~~***~~~
Time dragged its way to mid-November, and this particular night both Draco and Hermione were sitting in their office waiting for fellow eighth years who hadn’t showed up for tutoring, even though they had said they’d wanted help with their homework. It was nine o’clock and Draco was sitting at his desk leaning back on his chair with his hands laced behind his head watching Hermione reading from a heavy tome she’d set to levitate in front of her.
There was a pleasant amount of arousal pulsing through him as he thought about the date he was planning for later tonight that involved a well-built Ravenclaw. However, he broke the silence with a far more practical thought. “Who were you waiting for?”
“Ron,” she muttered, not looking around her book. She was actually pleased that Ron hadn’t turned up. He was her friend, but he was really starting to annoy her with his possessiveness, and she just couldn’t understand why he was bothering. She wasn’t interested in him and he wasn’t interested in her. She sighed, putting her book down. “And you?”
He snorted. “Goyle. Poor Greg; not that I could have helped him that much.”
She nodded. “I guess they’ve all gone to their respective post Quidditch bashes and forgotten us,” Hermione commented. It had been the first Gryffindor, Slytherin game today. She snickered slightly, but then her brow crinkled. “Malfoy, what do you think of the new Potions teacher?”
“Well, let’s just say that I’m pleased we don’t have her,” Draco replied.
“Mmm,” Hermione stated thoughtfully. “Harry says she has trouble controlling their class. That’s not very safe.”
“Yes, I’ve heard similar things,” he replied.
“We’re very lucky. Professor Snape is a really brilliant potioneer, and…” but then she remembered what Ron and Harry told her when she started to go on about study, and she said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m probably boring you.”
“No, not at all,” and he smirked mischievously. “You seem very full of praise for Severus.”
“The professor has been a very different teacher so far this year,” and even as she said it, she could feel the blush staining her cheeks.
“I can see that you have a special interest in Potions,” Draco teased.
“Oh yes, I do,” she gushed, not getting that he was pushing for information. “But I’m also interested in Arithmancy, and Runes and, and…” but she stopped herself before saying anything else and changed the subject. “What are you interested in?”
He chuckled at her and smirked, wondering what she’d been going to admit, but he answered her question. “Of course, I do not need to specialise. You know, all that glorious money and such,” but then he sighed. “However, at present I’m stuck running Father’s enterprises, as well as my own, while he’s ‘repaying society’ for the error of his ways. I’m studying my NEWTs, but there’s no guarantee that I’ll ever need them. In fact, I seriously suspect that for what I’m interested in doing, NEWT levels will mean nothing.” He thought for a moment. “I’m thinking of doing further studies in business management, so you see...” He sighed as his words tapered off. “No, I’m just here because I wanted to finish them. You know, tick it off the list.”
“Wow, that’s a lot on your plate; running Malfoy Industries while you’re here, as well as everything else that’s going on,” but then she stopped and her lip went between her teeth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound surprised. I should learn not to assume, I can’t presume to know what you can do.”
Draco came forward in his chair and looked at her seriously. “You don’t have much confidence in yourself sometimes, do you, Granger?”
She shrugged.
“You should have more confidence,” he told her.
“Why, no one notices me here,” and she scoffed and shrugged again, but images of her dancing in the club in Germany flited through her head as she said it. “When I’m here I’m just a know-it-all bookworm,” and she got up, picking up her book. “Unlike you, when I came back here I gave up all my other pursuits. Here I’m uncomfortable to be myself, there are too many people who will judge me for it.” She shrugged again. “Well, I guess I better get to my own work. Night, Malfoy.”
He rose from his chair and walked towards her. Despite her adult status, she looked the picture of innocence as he closed the distance between them. He raised his hand to her cheek. “However you came to believe that no one notices you while you’re here I don’t know, but you’re so wrong,” he told her. “You shouldn’t worry about people judging you, you could have it all you know. All you have to do is reach out and take it.”
Her eyes seemed locked on his face. “I could?” she whispered, gazing up at him.
He smiled. “Yes. Think about it, I’d love to see the real you,” and he leant forward and captured her lips in a searing caress. “Good night, Hermione,” he murmured.
His voice rumbled through her as she stood there swaying, clutching her book to her chest as through it would anchor her from the swarm of emotions that instantly descended on her. “What did you do that for?” she whispered, her eyes searching his face.
He smiled at her. “It might be the only opportunity I get, so I took it. Once a certain Slytherin gets his head out of his arse and realises what he wants… Well, perhaps that a little unfair, it’s more complicated than that.” He took a step back. “I’ll see you later, I’ve got a date.”
“Oh… okay, good night,” and she turned and walked into their sitting room, wondering exactly what he’d meant.
Draco watched her go. She had seemed far more confident when she’d first arrived here. In fact, she’d looked glorious, and he’d been watching. The corner of his lips ticked up, and he collected his own work and followed her into their sitting room, only she’d obviously made a quick escape up to her room.
He sighed, quite forgetting about the girl he’d promised to meet. Placing his finished work on the table he plopped down in one of the chairs by the fire with one leg swinging over the arm as he sat back to think. He accioed a tumbler from the kitchen and tapped it with his wand to fill it from the store of Firewhisky in Severus’ rooms.
Then his eyes followed the stairs up to Hermione’s bedroom door. There were lots of things he’d like to do with Hermione, and he knocked back his drink and poured another one as he continued to think, but he knew that Severus was interested in her, and a lot more than the man was currently letting on. Draco owed Severus such a huge debt, and he wasn’t going to repay him by stealing the woman he was interested in from under his nose. In fact, he would warn other blokes off her for him.
That was when it hit him. Shit, hasn’t that been what Weasley has been doing for years now? No wonder she feels awkward coming back here where Weasley is. He could see that the redhead didn’t actually want her, but he seemed to think he had the right to bully everyone else away from her, and that’s probably how she’s got the idea that no one’s interested in her. He took another sip of his drink, but what did she mean by saying that she didn’t feel comfortable here to be herself?
He sighed, and suddenly remembered how aroused he was. He glanced down at his slightly swollen groin. He was in desperate need of some relief, and that made his thoughts spur off into another direction. The Greengrass shrew had been throwing herself at him, but there was no way he was touching her. He took a swallow of his drink and smirked as he recalled that he had touched two seventh year Ravenclaws, a sixth year Slytherin and a sixth year Hufflepuff numerous times in the weeks he’d been here, and that was when he suddenly remembered that he had a date. He downed the remainder of his whisky and strode out the door.
~~~***~~~
Hermione managed to walk up to her room, but she still felt like she was in a trance. He’d kissed her… Draco had kissed her. She sighed. What did that mean? Was he planning to do more, or was he just teasing her again? She suspected that it was that latter, but what he’d said about another Slytherin… Now, who would Draco Malfoy—Mister Sex on legs—not take what he wanted for? Hermione wondered. The pool of people in that category would have to be very small, and really there was only one person that she thought he would owe enough to… Severus.
Her stomach suddenly felt like it had something heavy fluttering around in it. Severus. Draco must have meant Severus, especially when he’d said it was complicated. Oh how she wished that she knew. Hope flared in her, but then reality crashed over her.
She sighed. Coming back here had seemed like the right thing to do, but now she was very bored, annoyed and almost constantly randy. Not only had she left most of what she loved doing to come back here, she was starting to wonder how she was going to manage to get through life until term ended, let along endure the whole year.
She wished she had someone with some discretion whom she could go to. She glanced at her closed bedroom door. Well perhaps that wasn’t as impossible as she’d first thought. What had he said? ‘Once a certain Slytherin gets his head out of his arse and realises what he wants…’ She snorted to herself. Mind you, there’s no point hanging around expecting the professor might suddenly lose his professionalism and make me an offer. No, that simply isn’t going to happen, he’s the most controlled person I’ve ever met.
Pushing off the door and moving towards her bed she sat down to continue her mental dissection of facts. Also, I still have so much baggage where he’s concerned. I cringe every time I think of leaving him in that bloody shack, and she cleared her throat as all the issues she’d been trying not to think about suddenly crowded her mind again.
Chapter 5: New Discoveries and Old Animosities
Notes:
Disclaimer:-
I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.~~~***~~~
A/N:-
Thank you all for your comments and kudos for the last chapter, I appreciate them all. Thank you also to, Golden Asp, for betaing this chapter.
Chapter Text
It was Friday evening, the last week of November, and it was an unseasonably warm night for just before winter. It should have been a pleasant evening, but Hermione was rather brassed off.
Ron continued to hound her, and she suspected that she was going to snap and hex something very unsavoury across his forehead in the near future. I mean, really, she thought, as she sat by the lake. What is his problem? Why is he so completely clueless?
Tonight he’d really annoyed her with his attitude. Harry and Hermione were having quiet words together, having deliberately arrived early for dinner to catch up. They’d even arranged it by owl just after lessons had finished for the day. Hermione had thought that it was a bit ridiculous when she’d received the note, but what could she do? These were the times they were living in.
They didn’t often get the chance to talk alone, and she remembered Harry telling her as soon as he’d sat down that he had something he had been waiting for a while to tell her. Then Ron arrived and steamrolled over their conversation, immediately starting in on the latest Quidditch stats for their practice the next day.
“Ron, we were talking,” Hermione complained.
That was when he looked at her and said, “Well, this is important,” and started talking again.
Harry argued, trying to tell him he was being rude, but he only looked at him and laughed. “Its ‘Mione, Harry, she doesn’t care.”
It was at that point Hermione stormed out. She was now sitting on a soft piece of turf cradled within the gnarled roots of an ancient tree near the lake. This was the spot she had always come to when she needed escape, and there she sat, quietly bemoaning the fact that Ronald Weasley would always be this insensitive.
After having been without Ron for over a year and a half, Hermione seemed to be hyper sensitive to him, and not in a good way. He belittled and laughed at everything she did, and because she was ‘one of the guys’ he thought it was all right. What he didn’t seem to recognise was that he was being very sexist with his attitude, and in many ways just plain hurtful.
What she wanted to do more than anything was to continue to learn new things. She still had so many unanswered questions about the things she’d learned while on the Horcrux hunt. She sighed. Things like that were considered dark magic, and she knew she’d never be able to learn at Hogwarts, even from the restricted section of the library.
She sighed once more. This was ridiculous, coming back here was a complete waste of her time. Then she thought about her true reason for coming back, and even though she knew that the witches and wizards on the side of light would no doubt condemn her for wanting to learn what they considered the darkest type of magic, she still wanted to get answers to her questions.
Of course, that was when her thoughts turned—as they often did—to the two dark wizards she felt an unexplained affinity with. Lucius Malfoy was completely out of her reach, and probably always would be, but Severus wasn’t, and he was the one person on the side of light who she knew would know the answers she was looking for.
Then she remembered that academia was not the only thing she wanted from them. Draco had as good as told her some weeks back that the Severus was interested in her. These thoughts were followed by an image in her fertile mind of Severus thrusting into her while whispering dirty things in her ear in his gorgeous voice. She didn’t dare imagine Lucius in that same position, although she wanted to. He was married, and she was quite a bit scandalised that she lusted after both of them.
She laughed humourlessly. There’s a whole year before I can do anything about approaching Severus with any plans I have outside academia, and in the meantime I’m stuck in this school being sidelined by people like Ronald, and his bloody inane Quidditch stats... I wonder what Harry wanted to talk to me about. It must be something he obviously doesn’t want Ron to know.
Sighing, she rested her head on her knees as she looked out over the lake, and she allowed the fantasy in her head to surface again. She wanted Severus so badly and it was an itch she just couldn’t scratch.
Now thoughts like that were stirring up trouble in her mind, and it was getting late. The breeze suddenly picked up from nowhere, and Hermione sighed and shivered slightly as goosebumps erupted over her skin. She relished the sensation, but then she shook herself.
Then it was there in her mind again, the picture of Severus the day of the battle as he lay bleeding on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, and she’d not done anything. This was the dangerous time of day, the time that she felt most vulnerable and exposed since she’d returned to Hogwarts, and she didn’t like feeling like that again. More than once this term nce she’d come back, she’d had seriously thoughts of leaving, or even disappearing off into the Muggle world. She wiped at the tear that slithered past her control, and she decided that it might be time to go back to the castle.
While she’d been thinking, dusk settled and it became twilight, and Hermione sighed heavily as she rose from her protected nook and stretched. Looking up the path she started walking back to the castle. She hadn’t gone far when she heard the crack of a twig further on. Her wand fell effortlessly into her hand and she prepared to face an opponent. She was becoming war wary again, and that was something she had not expected coming back here. All she could see in the gloom was a figure coming around the corner in the path. The figure froze about ten metres away with their hands in a submissive gesture as soon as they saw her in a defensive pose.
“’Mione, it’s me, don’t shoot,” Harry said. He’d watched Hermione leaving the hall earlier with an expression of regret on his face. He was starting to wonder if this was all worth it, especially when Ginny turned up just as he’d been going to follow Hermione. That would have caused more problems, she he’d sat back down. As it was he was pretty certain that Ron was still following him. The guy’s completely clueless, Harry thought as he listened to Hermione’s reply.
“I’m sorry, Harry… old habits,” and she looked sheepish.
“Yeah, I know…” but he paused and glanced behind him.
Hermione thought he looked decidedly uneasy, and when she then heard, “Umm, Hermione?” and as he continued, she could tell just by the inflection of the words that something was amiss. She soon found out what as she heard a voice further up the path.
“Oi, Harry, why’d you run off so quick? Hey, where are you?
“Harry! I really do not want to see him again today, I’m just about ready to strangle him.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I thought I’d given him the slip, but he’s followed me again.”
“I’ve remembered why I was calmer after he’d left,” Hermione said.
“Yeah, he has his moments, but he means well.”
“Really, Harry,” Hermione snapped, but her expression softened when she saw Harry’s eyes drop to the ground. This wasn’t his fault, although he’d always been bad at giving people the slip.
“Look, ‘Mione, disappear. I’ll deal with him, I’ll catch you later, yeah?” Harry said, and he sighed, noticing Hermione glaring into the gloom as their friend approached.
Hermione quickly hugged him. “Thanks, Harry,” and without another word she shimmered out of view, and only a moment before Ron rounded the bend in the path.
“Oi, why’d you run off like that?” Ron said, and he looked annoyed.
Harry smiled and easily turned Ron around. “I thought Hermione might be out here, I was a bit worried about her, but I can’t find her. She’s probably in the library.”
The redhead sighed. “Her and that bloody library, honestly,” and he rolled his eyes. “I swear she needs a life,” he continued, unaware that the woman in question was silently fuming as she followed them.
“Hermione likes to learn, Ron. Your thing is Quidditch, she likes to find new things out; that’s what she’s is best at, and you shouldn’t belittle her for it. She’s bloody brilliant,” Harry praised, “Scary brilliant... but in a nice way,” he added, suspecting that she would be listening. He wasn’t going to incur the wrath of one Hermione Granger; her Stinging Jinxes hurt, but Ron couldn’t seem to help himself, and Harry cringed as he kept going.
“Bloody brilliant? Yeah, she’s scary all right,” and he thought for a minute and then shook his head. “Why can’t she just be normal?”
Harry felt slightly guilty when Ron yelped loudly. “What the fuck was that?” he asked rubbing his bum cheek. “I’ll swear someone just hit me with a Stinging Jinx.”
Harry laughed, “Probably insects, mate.”
Ron scoffed, “Bloody big insects.”
Harry forced a laugh out, but glanced behind them. “Well, let’s get back to the castle quickly, mate, or they might bite again.”
Hermione stood very still, watching Harry and Ron turn onto the path that led back to the castle. Her fists were clenched at her sides and she was forcing herself to drag one breath after another into her lungs as her heart beat an angry tattoo in her chest. “Arse!” she muttered, before she stomped back towards the castle too.
~~~***~~~
Draco had watched Hermione leaving the hall as he’d been about to enter. He’d opened his mouth to speak but she simply glared at him. Weasley had done it again; the stupid idiot seemed to have a gift for pissing her off.
As he thought about this he was back in their common room, and he sat back in his arm chair swirling his whisky as he thought. It was after dinner and yet again Hermione had not eaten. Then he turned his thoughts to Severus; he was in the same position. The new Potions teacher had chased him from the hall before he’d eaten too.
Draco had watched Severus snark and snap at and about Hermione Granger over the years, the personification of hate in his voice and gestures. However, as he’d grown up he’d come to know Severus well, and he knew that he was covering up. Listening to what his mother had told him, Draco realised that Hermione had been very like Severus was when he had first started Hogwarts. Oh, they were worlds apart in how they had been brought up, but they were both brilliant, both had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and the brilliance to realise any goal.
In Hermione’s last year, Draco had actually wondered if Severus may have been just a little in love with her, and despite everything he couldn’t help wondering if they would have made a good match, despite the age difference. Older wizards often married younger witches, and visa a versa, and as he’d learned recently, Hermione had still gravitated towards the man, regardless of his cruelness. Maybe she needs someone older than her.
Then, speak of the devil, Hermione came through their sitting room door. She turned stormy eyes to him, and said, “I’m just so over him. He’s so bloody rude, and he just can’t leave me alone.”
“Weaslby?” Draco questioned.
“Who else!” and she flopped down in the chair opposite Draco. “I just don’t think I can handle him anymore, he makes my skin crawl… m-my brain itch. I hate him. I’m so fed up with him. All the redheaded pillock can think about is being a rude, possessive prick… and the worst part is, I don’t really think he actually wants me, it’s just because I’m female.” She snorted. “Like he could satisfy me, he has no idea. He follows me around like a lost puppy, making soppy eyes at me. I don’t want him,” she spat bitterly. “I want a man, real wizards… b-but I can’t have them… u-umm, I m-mean him…” and she abruptly stopped talking and wiped her eyes sniffing noisily.
There were tears still spilling from her eyes, and she hadn’t even realised that she was crying, but then shock at what she’d just said rushed over her and she blushed. “I’m sorry, Draco,” she said meekly. “I think I’ve just let my mouth run away with me,” and she blushed brighter, remembering some of the things she’d just said.
Draco chuckled and accioed a plate of food from the kitchenette. “Here, eat your dinner, and once you have, I think you may need a strong drink, but there’s no way I’m giving whisky to a light-weight like you on an empty stomach,” and he smiled, watching her eagerly tucking into the food.
“Thank you, Draco,” she said between mouthfuls.
“You’re welcome, and you’re not the only one I saved food for tonight, but Severus hasn’t come in yet. Now, while you eat, would you kindly backtrack to the part of your rant where you told me that you were lusting after Severus?”
“Oh,” Hermione gasped. “Did I say that?”
“You did,” and he chuckled once more as he produced a glass for her and tapped it with his wand to fill it.
“Where’d that come from?” she questioned, somehow hoping that her question would deflect from what he wanted to know.”
“A bottle of Firewhisky,” he replied calmly.
“Oh, ha, ha. Who’s Firewhisky?”
He smirked. “Who’s do you think?”
And that was the moment she remembered that Slytherins were masters of deflection, and she took in his mischievous expression, but all her mind could fathom was that only teachers were allowed to keep liquor if they wished to. Even as adult students they had been discouraged from doing so, in case the younger students got hold of it. Then she took in his smirk and shrieked, “You’re stealing a professor’s Firewhisky?”
Draco laughed. “Oh, righteous anger from the Gryffindor princess at a perceived wrong,” he taunted. Then he had the audacity to wink at her as she drew herself up to her full height. “Don’t get your lovely tail in a twist. I have permission.”
“Y-You do?”
Lounging back in his chair, he took a sip of his Firewhisky and laughed. “I believe I like having you on the back foot.”
Staring at the whisky like it would bite her, she gingerly sat back down and turned her eyes to him. “Truthfully, Draco. Which professor would give you access to their stash of Firewhisky?”
Draco grinned impishly. “The one who is my godfather,” he replied.
“Professor Snape?”
“The one and only,” Draco grinned, and said, “Now, drink up. I can assure you that he is fine with it, and in any case I want to hear about you and him.”
He watched her tentatively bringing the glass to her lips as he waited for her to speak. However, just as she was about to drink, the door opened and Severus strode in.
As soon as Hermione saw him, guilt flooded her, and in her shock the glass slipped from her fingers. She gasped and deftly caught it, but the contents ended up down her front. “Oh, bugger,” she cursed, and she watched Snape with guilt written all over her face. To her surprise his mouth turned up at the corner, and she became extremely confused when he merely sat down on the opposite lounge.
Draco simply chuckled, and accioed another plate of food and then waved his wand over Hermione’s wet blouse. “You are a Nervous Nelly tonight, aren’t you, Princess?” Then he turned his eyes to Severus. “Hello, Severus. I noted that you did not eat tonight either.”
Hermione watched as the professor’s brow unfurled slightly at Draco’s concern, and as it did some of his worry lines relaxed, and his countenance looked like she’d never seen it before.
“Good evening, Miss Granger,” he said, turning his eyes to Hermione.
Hermione was almost instantly lost in the depths of his dark eyes. So many people saw them as cold and empty, she not only saw deep intelligence shining out of them, but now she also saw a sensual regard. “Hello, sir,” she replied shyly, trying not to also see the pain she remembered seeing in his eyes the day of the battle.
Severus eyed the Gryffindor witch for some moments before conjuring a glass and tapping it to fill it with Firewhisky. He glanced at Hermione’s glass, obviously intending to refill it, but she placed her hand over it.
“Then some wine, perhaps?” he asked, wondering why Draco had been plying her with hard liquor.
“Yes, thank you,” she replied.
Severus transfigured the tumbler into a wine glass, cleaned it and tapped it to fill it with red wine that would complement the beef stew that was part of her half-finished meal.
“Thank you, sir,” Hermione offered.
“You’re welcome,” and it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her not to call him ‘sir’ in social situations, but Draco interrupted.
“Had a difficult day?” he asked.
The Potions Master continued to watch Hermione, before took a sip of his drink. Then he scoffed and his expression turned sour as a sneer appeared on his lips.
“I’ll take that as a yes then,” Draco laughed.
“Fools and idiots, the lot of them,” he replied, his scowl deepening.
The blond took another sip from his glass. “Hermione here could agree with that, couldn’t you, Princess?”
Hermione sighed. “Yes, I suppose I could.” She took another deep breath and added, “In fact, with everything considered, I’m starting to wonder how I could have conceived that coming back here was ever going to work in the first place.”
“That bad?” Severus replied, before taking another mouthful of food.
“Don’t get me wrong, sir. I love your classes, I’m actually challenged, but there is so much more that I want to know, and I’m not certain I know where to start with it all.”
“Indeed,” Severus replied, his raven eyebrow ascending in silent question.
To her surprise, Hermione found herself responding. “Well, like the Arithmancy calculations I did for my Potions project. I want to know more about how that works, and runes, I want to know more about their subtle meanings, so I can combine them better, understand them better, but both Professors Vector and Babbling do not seem capable of telling me.” Then she watched him before blurting, “And there are other things I want to know too.”
Severus’ expression did not change as he finished his meal, and he sat back in his chair and withdrew a cigarette case from the folds of his robes as he eyed her thoughtfully. He withdrew one and lit it before pushing the case towards Draco. The blond opened the case and offered it to Hermione, his head tilted slightly.
“Oh, no, thank you,” she said quickly.
A little too quickly, Severus thought as he watched that lip of hers slip between her teeth as her eyes devoured the contents of the case. “Wizarding cigarettes do not contain the carcinogens of their Muggle cousins, Miss Granger,” he told her, observing her almost salivating as she watched Draco withdrawing his offer and then taking one and lighting it. He handed the case back to Severus.
She smiled slightly, obviously uncertain, but nodded. “Oh, I wasn’t aware of that,” she murmured.
Snape’s mouth twisted up at the side into the semblance of a smile. “Something that the well-informed Miss Granger does not know,” and he leaned forward in his chair and smirked shark-like at her. “How intriguing,” his luscious voice rumbled.
The tone of his voice had such a predatory edge to it that Hermione almost melted in her seat, and she blushed scarlet. She glanced from one to the other of her companions, and her brain screamed at her. You will not flirt with him. You will not! There is no way that he will thank you for it, she told herself, but it seemed that her mouth was not listening to her brain as it then continued, “I’m certain that there are many things I could learn from you, sir.”
“Oh, I’m certain that there are, Miss Granger,” and as he said it Severus stood and inclined his head to them. “Thank you for the food, Draco. Good evening to you both,” and he was striding back out the door again.
When the door closed behind him Hermione looked at Draco and said, “I wonder why he came in?”
Draco smiled slyly at her. “I am not the only one who finds your companionship refreshing, you know,” he declared.
Hermione watched him vanishing the butt of his smoke and she wished she’d had the courage to take the opportunities that she’d missed tonight. She was just so uncomfortable here. It wasn’t like she’d never had a cigarette before, but her prim persona had already taken a good beating tonight as her mouth had run away with her, and she hadn’t known what to say… how much to reveal. As she was thinking on this, Draco inclined his head to her as he got up off the lounge.
“I have some things to finish. Good night, Hermione.”
“Draco,” she replied, distractedly. She watched him walk all the way up to his room and she still sat there thinking. It was only then that she remembered that she’d forgotten to thank him for providing her dinner, and she scolded herself.
~~~***~~~
That night when Severus returned to his rooms, he found himself sitting at his desk wondering what he could do build a friendship with Hermione while his hands were tied by the fact that—adult or not—she was his student.
He glanced down at the assignments on his desk that he’d been marking. Hers was truly excellent work, and he’d given it the mark it deserved, an Outstanding, and he was so pleased that he could treat her as he always should have. He tilted his head slightly. “But this is not enough,” he murmured to himself.
Chapter 6: Growing Friendships
Notes:
Disclaimer:- I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.
~~~***~~~
A/N:- Thank you all for your comments and kudos for the last chapter, I appreciate them all. Thank you also to, Golden Asp, for her beta work on this chapter.
Chapter Text
Hermione only realised the next morning while she was out running that Harry had not turned up after she’d bid Draco and the professor good night. The fact was that she’d been so happy that the professor had stayed and listened to what she’d had to say that she’d forgotten about Harry.
Her Potions classes were going really well, but unfortunately her Defence Studies class was a much bigger class, and the professor was not the same man he was in their Potions classroom. She knew that Harry often lingered after class to discuss things with him, but Hermione was not confident enough yet to reveal what she wanted to learn about the dark arts, especially in front of Harry.
She used a freshening spell on herself and walked straight into breakfast after her run, and to her surprise she found Harry alone at the eighth-year table. She smiled as she sat down next to him. “Hello, stranger.”
He stopped contemplating his coffee and smiled in return. “Hey, Mi. Geez it’s hard to get away sometimes,” and putting his mug down he pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t get back to see you last night.” He took a deep breath as he released her from the hug. “I’ve got so much to tell you, but having any time to ourselves seems almost impossible. In fact, there’s something that I’ve needed to tell you since the day of your birthday.”
“And I’ll listen to everything you have to tell me, Harry,” Hermione replied, but then she placed her hand over his. “But, how are you, really? All of this must be weighing you down too.”
He sighed. “In some ways I’m great, but in other ways I’m not brilliant, but I’m more worried about you. You seem to be in a no win situation.”
“Mmm, well I have friends other than you now, and that helps.”
“Draco, ay?”
Harry’s tone of voice made Hermione grimace, and then explain. “Yes, we’ve become friends, Harry. When you strip away everything that he was, there’s a decent human being under there,” she stated earnestly, and then contemplated her friend before her lip slipped between her teeth and she added, “I’ve made a similar discovery about the professor.”
To her surprise he chuckled. “You’re a wonder, Mi. Only you could discover a decent human under the dungeon bat,” but then his expression turned serious. “Mind you, he is being very accommodating about all the war stuff I keep asking him, so…” and he shrugged the way Harry often did when he was uncertain.
“I’m so glad that you’re accepting this so readily,” Hermione said.
“What’s the point in not accepting it? We’ve all grown up. We’re not children anymore, and I’m trying my best to let go of the hate.”
“So are they, Harry,” Hermione said excitedly. “I mean, I’m not just going to start trusting all Slytherins, but Draco and the professor have realised what we’ve concluded. We all need to make an effort to move on. Did you know that without people who do not want to learn in his Potions class that he’s a brilliant Potions teacher?”
Harry nodded. “Yes, actually I would. As I said, I’ve had several discussions with him about different things that happened during the war, and he hasn’t sneered once.”
Hermione chuckled. “Yes, I know, and I’m so pleased.” Then she sighed. “I just wish Ron would be a bit more considerate.”
“We went flying last night… Ron and me.” He inhaled before he continued, and he said, “We had a good talk last night, and I’m hoping that he gets now that he can’t be so possessive of you; that it’s making you uncomfortable.”
Hermione sighed. “Oh, Harry, thank you,” and she pulled him into another hug.
“Oi!” they heard behind them, and Hermione jumped back as if she’d been burned.
This made Harry angry, and he turned to their friend. “Bloody Hell, Ron,” he said, his eyes narrowed. “What’s the problem now?”
“You said last night that I should keep my hands to myself, so how come you still get to touch her when you told me not to?” Ron all but yelled.
“What?” Hermione hissed as she stood. “Harry and I are friends,” she declared.
“Well, aren’t you and I still friends?” Ron wanted to know.
Hermione could see a nasty smile blooming on his face, and she knew she had to cut and run. There was not going to be any winning here. “You’ve got to be kidding!” she replied, as her mind quickly worked out where he was going with that line of thinking, and she glared at him, her face contorted with rage. She turned back to Harry. “Excuse me, please, I can’t be near him anymore,” she said, and stormed out of the hall.
As she walked quickly towards her quarters she took one of her doses of Calming Draught because her throat had instantly started to tighten. This is just as bad as it was before, she thought as she walked. I hope I don’t lose Harry over this too, but she’d left so fast that she didn’t hear Harry taking Ron to task over his attitude.
As she hurried towards her room Hermione’s thoughts started to swirl. There were so many issues clouding her mind that she became lost in them. How could she have thought that it would be that simple with Ron? He was so pigheaded, vindictive even… but it was a step too far for her. He was being deliberately nasty. Right at this moment, all she wanted to do was pack her bags and leave. Here she was, stuck in a school, bored with work she realised she’d already learned and surpassed with just simple life experience. The only classes that she was learning things in were the two that her favorite professor presented, and the rest of the time…
Then there were the myriad of other issues associated with things she could do nothing about. Things that she was unable to change, and things that were forbidden to her because she was here. Right about now her NEWT levels could be buggered, she was done worrying about it all.
She was over Ron, and she was over watching her best friend and the two other wizards she had come to admire being hounded by witches they didn’t want, while she was constantly bearing the brunt of the nastiness from the two younger women.
The situation with the professor was the worst though. She idolized him, and under different circumstances she would be trying her best to win his affections, but he had Professor Ross chasing after him every chance she got, and Hermione just wanted to slap the stupid witch.
It didn’t matter that she could see that Severus was not interested in the woman. Hermione had often seen him putting her in her place with a scowl on his face, but the fact that this odious witch was free to chase someone that Hermione badly wanted to be closer to, even if she still felt guilty over that past deed the day of the battle... Well it hurt, it hurt a lot that she could not be seen to be anything more than just a student.
At this very moment it all became more than she could bear. She made it all the way back through their office to their sitting room, fobbing off Violet’s inquiry as to whether she was all right as she was admitted, but once she was safely inside the tears welling in her eyes spilled over. She turned towards the stairs in a blind panic to get to her room before she really was crying but as she barreled headlong towards the stairs she collided with something solid.
The something solid grabbed her by the arms and stopped her from falling, and then asked, “What’s the matter, Princess?”
Hermione blinked as she stood there attempting to make her brain spit out her problem. Her eyes could only see Draco as a blur because of her tears, and her mouth just started talking. “Ron… pig-headed… Stupid. Deliberately misunderstanding… Idiot arse!” She was only saying the words that expressed her anger as her anguish over the situation took centre stage.
However, Draco seemed to know what her problem was. He nodded. “You summed it up when you called him an idiot arse, love. He’s just being spiteful,” and as he said it he pulled her to him and that was when the floodgates opened. “Shh,” he told her as she started sobbing on his clean shirt.
After a time, Hermione started to settle, and Draco pulled her back so he could see her face and he used one hand to brush her hair from it. “Feeling better?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes, but he is such a dick sometimes.”
Draco snorted. “Only sometimes?”
Hermione laughed, but then had to sniff loudly.
“Eww! Gross,” Draco said, pulling a face, but laughing as he conjured tissues. “Here, you clean up and I’ll make us some tea,” and he gently pushed her in the direction of the lounge.
Hermione caught his arm as he turned towards the kitchenette. “Thank you,” she said, having just wiped her face.
“You’re welcome, Princess. Now, sit back and relax while I make the tea, and don’t give the idiot arse a second thought,” he said, gifting her with a kiss on the forehead. However, Draco had just turned towards the kitchen when Violet arrived in her portrait on the inside of their sitting room and announced. “Mister Harry Potter wishes to see Miss Hermione Granger.”
Hermione looked at Draco, and her lip slipped between her teeth.
“Don’t worry, I’ll let him in,” he said and went out into their office. As he walked he cleaned and dried the wet patch on his shirt before he opened the door.
“Hello, Malfoy. Is Hermione here?” Harry said, looking very agitated, and glancing behind him.
Draco, being Draco, couldn’t help having a little dig, and he cocked an eyebrow. “Perhaps. Is Weaslby going to jump out of the woodwork from somewhere? Because if he is I’m going to hex him. Hermione’s putting up with enough without him being a complete dickhead as well.”
“I’ve already hexed him, and I would have been here quicker if I hadn’t had to have words with his sister as well before I left the hall. Can I see Hermione, please?” Harry stated. Even though Hermione had admitted to friendship with Draco, Harry was still surprised at the Slytherin’s concern for his friend, as well as his use of her name.
Draco stepped aside and allowed Harry through. “Don’t upset her again,” he warned.
“I wasn’t the one who upset her to start with, mate,” Harry replied, trying to put into practice his resolve not to react to Draco Malfoy’s taunts.
“I know, but I’m just saying,” the blond said, giving Harry a cheeky grin.
Harry scowled but quickly turned his attention to Hermione who was getting up off the lounge.
“I’m making tea. Do you want a mug, Potter?” Draco asked, turning towards the kitchen again.
Accepting Hermione into his arms, Harry said, “Yeah, thanks, Malfoy,” and he held Hermione tight as she started talking.
“I’m so over everything, Harry. My life was simple before I came back here. We had so much happiness,” she said.
“Yes, we did,” he agreed. “But it might be harder somewhere else.”
Draco was levitating a tray with the tea pot, milk and sugar, and three mugs back into the sitting room. “Yes, besides Hogwarts is the only place where people our age can finish our education, and only this year. I inquired at the other schools before I came back,” he said, handing her the mug of tea he’d been preparing as he spoke.
“Oh,” Hermione said, dejectedly.
“Hey, there’s not much of this term to go, and we can go where ever you want for the Christmas hols,” Harry put in.
Hermione nodded, but then said to Draco, “So you didn’t want to come back either?”
He snorted softly and shook his head. “How do you take your tea, Potter?”
“Milk and two, please,” Harry said, very taken back that he was actually accepting a mug of tea from Draco Malfoy. Even though he could see what Hermione had told him about the blond being a different person, it was still going to take some getting used to.
Hermione was carefully taking measured sips from her tea, and Harry looked at her before he said, “Why don’t we escape for the weekend? Get away until Monday.”
“Because that will just make life even more unbearable when we returned,” Hermione replied. “There will be more questions, more unfounded accusations, and even more nastiness to endure.”
Harry sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”
“However, we could disappear to Hogsmeade for lunch,” Draco put in. “Just a temporary reprieve.”
“How do you propose we do that?” Hermione asked.
Draco laughed. “Broomsticks and disillusionment,” he stated calmly, but then drew breath and added, then giving Hermione a mischievous looked, he added, “You know, we should really be a quartet.”
“But a quartet is four,” Harry said, and then looked to Hermione for clarification. “Isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she confirmed but then turned to Draco. “Why four?”
“Well, isn’t that new Potions teacher just as batty as the Weasley girl and that shrew who’s trying to get her talons into me?” Draco answered.
“Oh, you’re including the professor in our quartet,” Hermione answered dreamily.
“Huh?” Harry answered.
“Yes, I like that idea,” Hermione added, blushing slightly.
“I thought you would,” Draco answered. “See you’ve forgotten all about Weaslby.”
Hermione smiled. “You’re right. So, how did you say we were going to get out of here unobserved?”
Draco was about to answer, but then he looked at Harry. “Before we discuss anything more, we need your word that whatever happens once that outer office door is closed does not go beyond that door.”
Harry pursed his lips, but then gave a crooked smile. “I can see that there’s already a lot going on in here that the remainder of the castle does not know about. Sure,” he agreed. Then his eyes moved around the space. “I wish I was lucky enough to have a private domain lie this,” he said, sighing.
Draco snorted. “You’re the sodding boy wonder, Potter. Surely you of all people could manage a private room.”
“Draco!” Hermione cautioned, thinking he was making fun of Harry.
“No, ‘Mione, he’s right. Perhaps it is time for me to stand up for myself. I’m off to speak with McGonagall,” he said, but then looked back to Hermione, as he muttered under his breath, “If she’ll listen to me after I cursed Ron.” However, then he seemed to remember the reason he’d been here in the first place. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he said to Hermione.
She smiled. “Yes, I’m fine now, Harry.”
“Good, then I’ll meet you back here before lunch. It’s time to play them all at their own game,” and he grinned. “Gryffindors and Slytherins together.”
Hermione had heard what Harry had said under his breath, and she knew he’d need backup. “Actually, Harry. I think it might benefit us more to front Professor McGonagall together,” she said, getting up off the lounge.
She hadn’t noticed the door open while she’d been speaking.
“What’s this,” Severus asked smoothly. “Mutiny?”
Draco and Hermione saw his lip twitch and knew that he was joking. However, Harry stood there like a stuffed fish, gawking at the elegant man in black, uncertain of this development.
They watched as Hermione’s jaw jutted out defiantly, and she looked at the Potions Master seriously. “Yes, we’re fed up with the stupidity that is going on around here. Aren’t you?” She took a step towards him. “That odious Potions teacher is one of the things were taking a stand against. I’m sick of watching her slobbering all over you, you deserve better than that… S-S… sir.” The last word was added when she truly was unable to read his expression, and also as her bravado flagged a bit.
Snape, in true Snape style, goaded her. “Are you indeed,” he replied, and his raven eyebrow sailed up as he questioned her. “And what pray are you planning to do about it?” he asked in his silkiest voice.
Both Harry and Draco were simply standing there, waiting to see what would happen. Of course, there were completely different thoughts going through their minds about things.
Draco was thinking - Come on, Princess, you can do it. Show him there’s a better… no a best option.
Harry on the other hand was thinking - Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! She’s going to have detention until she’s thirty.
“There’s not a great deal I can do in my present situation,” they heard Hermione say as she reached him. She made an attempt to raise her hand to his cheek, but then thought better of it. “You deserve so much better, and I wish I could show you what I mean.”
He eyed her cautiously, but then the corner of his mouth twitched up. “Haven’t you got a big enough fan club?” he asked softly, indicating the two younger wizards.
The corner of her mouth lifted in response. “I know that we’ve been on a different footing this year, and I have been enjoying it” and her lip turned up more. “However, I feel like my hands are tied at present, even though I would dearly love to get to know you better.”
“Indeed,” he smoothed. “Then we might need to find a way around that, my dear, mightn’t we?”
“Oh, that would be wonderful,” Hermione replied, exhaling the breath she’d been holding while he’d been watching her.
He observed her for a long moment, and then leant forward so his delicious voice tickled her ear as he whispered. “And you are right, I am not in the least bit interested in the new and very odious Potions teacher.”
However, it was at this point, as Severus and Hermione were sizing one another up that a very flustered Violet arrived in her portrait. “The headmistress is outside, and she’s angry,” she said, her eyes on Snape.
This made Severus’ eyes flick to Harry. “Ah yes, that is why I came in. The headmistress is baying for your blood, Potter, something about hanging Weasley up by the collar of his robes from the ceiling of The Great Hall and leaving him there. I indicated that I would help find you, as I have done. I had a strong feeling you would come to check on Hermione.”
Hermione grinned at his use of her given name, and watched as he turned and inclined his head to her before walking back out and opening the office door to Minerva. No one knew that Minerva McGonagall did not have full power as the headmistress—including the witch herself—and Snape was almost certain that if she knew that he still did that she’d be demanding that he immediately relinquish them to her. Apparently she had a short memory, and could not recall that Albus had never had to gain permission to access any part of the castle, but Severus had commanded Violet to not admit her when he’d come through the door; he’d wanted the chance to see what was happening before she blundered her way in.
“My apologies, Headmistress, I have only just found Mister Potter.”
“Is that right?” Minerva stated as she entered. She was just about to walk into the sitting room when she turned back. “Oh, and I believe that Apolline is looking for you, a question about... oh something,” and she waved her hand dismissively, obviously hoping he’d just leave.
Severus controlled his expression of irritation that she was obviously trying to get rid of him.
“Apolline?” he questioned innocently. “Who’s that?”
Minerva did a double take, and said, “Apolline Ross, my niece; the new Potions teacher,” like he should have known that.
“Well, she can look for me all she likes,” Severus replied, sniffing disdainfully. “I’m not interested in answering her stupid questions. In fact, any questions she has a moderately bright first year could answer,” he muttered as he followed Minerva back into the sitting room.
Of course, this garnered her ire. “You should be more accommodating of the new teachers, Severus,” she scolded.
“Oh, so I should allow her to grope me and I should listen to the asinine dribble she sprouts just because she’s a new teacher?”
“What? Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Severus.”
“I’m not being ridiculous, Minerva, that is what she’s like. Last night after dinner she suggested, while handling my person without my permission, I should add, ‘that I could use a good seeing to’”, and his graceful fingers used air-quotes. “Should I allow that in the context of being more accommodating? Mmm?”
“Certainly not. That type of behavior is to be discouraged,” Minerva stated, obviously rather flustered at what he was saying.
“Then perhaps you would have words with your new Potions teacher, Minerva. In fact, perhaps you should have words with quite a few of the eighth year adults as well, telling them something that some of them do not seem to understand. No means no!” He turned and gestured with his hand. “Mister Potter is being pursued against his will by Ginevra Weasley. Astoria Greengrass is under the mistaken notion that a non-binding discussion by her parents to Draco’s parents when they were both babies allows her to take uninvited liberties with him,” and he moved his hand to indicate Draco. “Then there is the case of Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, which I believe you will find is at the seat of Harry Potter’s hexing of said redhead this morning,” and as he turned away from the now obviously annoyed headmistress he winked at a watching Hermione.
“You seem very well informed, Severus,” Minerva stated coolly.
“Merely observations, Minerva,” he replied, indicating the three young adults watching. “Speak to those being affected yourself.”
“Yes, perhaps you three had best inform me of what is going on,” Minerva stated, sitting in the chair opposite the lounge. “I did tell everyone at the commencement of term that I would not be standing for any trouble.”
“Yes you did,” Hermione confirmed. “Would you care for some tea, Ma’am?” she asked.
“Thank you, Miss Granger,” Minerva nodded.
“Then I’ll just refresh the pot,” Hermione replied, and got up, leaving the boys with the headmistress.
When she returned Severus was gone, and a stab of disappointment went through her as she prepared more tea for everyone while listening to the boys informing the headmistress of their impasse with other students in eighth year.
“And you, Miss Granger,” Minerva said, after listening to Draco and Harry.
“I have been trying to rise above my problems since term has started, but Ron has been constantly harassing me both physically and verbally, and I thought an agreement had been reached last night… that he would desist.” She sighed, but when she went on, she said, “Ma’am, I think I speak for all three of us. Coming back as adults is difficult enough, but being stuck in the position without being able to cut those out of your life who are causing you trouble… Well, I’m seriously considering leaving Hogwarts, and doing without my NEWTs.”
“Gracious, child. You are touted as the brightest witch of your age,” the headmistress said, her cup clattering to its saucer.
“Well, it has come to my attention during these last weeks that on the whole, I am wasting my time. The only classes I’m finding challenging are Professor Snape’s classes. No offence intended, Ma’am.”
Minerva was still teaching Transfiguration, and her lips tightened in displeasure at the comment, but then she sighed, she couldn’t have the cream of the crop leaving. “It has not escaped my attention that some of you are well beyond the required curriculum,” she stated seriously. “But what would you have me do about it?” she asked. “We are not a university.”
It was Draco who answered. “I for one, would be satisfied with more advanced classes for those willing to work harder. If the classes have strict cut off points like Professor Snape enforces, and perhaps even extra tuition fees for the honor of participating.”
“I cannot ask the teachers to teach extra classes.”
“You could approach the ministry. Tell them that it is their opportunity to give those who were held back because of the school’s closure the chance to excel. Get them to foot the bill for extra teachers, even if it is just for this year,” Harry stated. “And there’s another thing too. I for one would gladly pay for the privilege of having private quarters. What Hogwarts charges me for that opportunity could contribute to the hiring of guest teachers, or whatever you want.”
“Yes,” Draco agreed.
The headmistress was already shaking her head as she rose from her chair, and she sighed. “You have given me much to think about, but I must be fair to everyone…” However, then her face paled, apparently that had reminded her of Ron. “Oh, Mister Weasley!” Her face took on a strict seriousness. “Now, you are all adults and I can see why you hexed him, but would you kindly go and release him from your spell, I’m certain that he’s very irate by now.”
Harry could see what they all could; McGonagall had already dismissed their suggestions, and he told her, “He’s always got his broom in his pocket, all he’s got to do is remember that, Ma’am,” and he turned to Hermione and Draco as soon as McGonagall was out of ear-shot. “I’ll meet you back here in half an hour, and we’ll fly to Hogsmeade,” he told them. “I have a surprise for you, ‘Mione,” he said quietly.
Hermione blanched as she stood watching them. Her emotions were on a roller-coaster again. She was very happy that she’d made inroads with Severus, but she was suddenly feeling sick at the thought of flying, as well as being overcome with curiosity at what Harry wanted to show her. Then she felt Draco curl an arm around her waist.
“Don’t worry, Princess, I’ll keep you safe,” he told her.
She turned to look at him and placed her hand on his arm. “You’ve been a good friend this morning, Draco.”
He chuckled, but then he took a deep breath and said, “You almost told Severus how you feel this morning. Why didn’t you?” he inquired quietly.
Her lip slipped between her teeth and she shrugged. “I’d like to get to know him without having something like that hanging between us. I don’t think it would be conducive to a developing friendship,” she said as she looked up at Draco and saw that he had an impish expression on his face.
Chapter 7: The Genesis of An Idea
Notes:
Disclaimer:- I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.
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A/N:- Thank you to you all for your comments and kudos. I appreciate every one of them. Also thank you to Golden Asp for her beta work this chapter. We’re finally starting to discuss the promised content of this story. Onward!
Chapter Text
Hermione survived the experience of flying out their sitting room window on the back of Draco’s broom, and by the time they’d reached Hogsmeade she was not hiding her head in his cloak anymore either.
They’d disillusioned themselves so no one would see them leaving, and as they landed just outside of town, they were surprise to see Harry waiting for them. He turned them to The Hogshead, leading the way.
Since the war, Aberforth and his goats had retired to sunny Spain, and he’d sold his pub to fund it. However, nobody quite knew who’d bought it, and unless you were in the know, it looked like a derelict building.
“In here,” Harry encouraged. “This is the surprise.”
“Here?” Draco complained.
Harry smiled. “Offending the Malfoy snobbery meter, am I?” Harry cackled. “You’re in for a surprise, Malfoy,” and he leant in closer to his companions and waggled his eyebrows, but before he could say anything else the penny dropped in Hermione’s mind.
“Harry!” she gasped. “You’re the one who bought it,” she said.
“Guilty,” he grinned. “The outside looks the same for a reason. It’ll be fixed up once I’ve left Hogwarts. Come in and I’ll explain things to you both.”
Harry held the door open and gestured for Hermione and Draco to go through before him.
As soon as they’d entered Hermione stopped, shocked. The interior of the bar was now an elegant sports bar. There was a highly polished circular bar in one corner with sparkling glasses and bottles lined up behind it. The floor was just as polished and there was a leather chesterfield type lounge that lined the opposite two walls with tables dotted along its length, as well a few stand-alone tables in the middle.
The walls were covered in Quidditch memorabilia from all sorts of places, and the only thing that was there from the original Hogshead was the mounted hog’s head over the opposite door, but it was sporting a Gryffindor scarf around its neck.
“Oh, Harry, wow,” Hermione gasped.
“Yeah, I’ve got to say, it does have a great atmosphere,” Draco agreed, looking around at the mostly Quidditch player patrons.
Harry led them towards a table that was hidden by the bar, greeting the man behind the bar as they walked.
“Hey, Ollie,” he called.
“Harry,” the handsome Scotsman called back.
“Is that Oliver Wood?” Hermione asked in a whisper.
“It sure is,” Harry grinned. “How are you, Ollie?” he said, lowering the hood of his travelling cloak. “He’s my manager,” he told them, sitting them at the table.
They watched from their table as more people came in for lunch, and Hermione recognised George and Fred with their friend Lee.
“Harry,” the group called. “How are you, mate?”
Then they saw Hermione. “’Mione!” and they were coming over and pulling her into one hug after another.
When the Gryffindors had finished greeting each other Harry noticed that Draco was sitting very quietly.
“What’s the matter, Malfoy?” he asked.
“Why didn’t they try to hex me?” Draco asked.
“Because everyone in here is here as my guest. You have to be approved by me to come through the door, and one of the main things I ask for is discretion. You’re sitting at my table, Malfoy, so everyone will just accept that.”
“Oh, Harry, this is wonderful. You’ve made a retreat,” Hermione gushed.
“Yes, as much as I hate to admit it, I thought we’d need a place like this when we came back to England.”
Hermione pulled him into a hug, but then let him go and started looking around again. “Oh, it truly is lovely, Harry.”
“I’m glad you like it. So, what are we all drinking?” Harry asked, catching the waitress’ eye.
They watched a tall willowy blonde smile and walk over. “Hi, Harry,” she said. “What can I get you guys?”
“I’ll have a lager. ‘Mione?”
“Do you have wine?” She watched the waitress nod. “Then a glass of the house chardonnay, please,” and she looked at Draco.
“What’s lager?” he whispered to Hermione.
“It’s a Muggle type of beer,” she told him quietly. “Not Butterbeer, but hops beer.”
“Okay, I’ll try that then.”
“Very good,” their waitress said.
“Okay, so two premium lagers and take the wine from my reserve. What are the specials today, Estelle?” Harry asked.
The waitress conjured menus and handed them around.
“Cool,” Harry said. “We’ll have a look while you get our drinks.” It was then that he saw Hermione’s lip stuck between her teeth, and he could just see what she was thinking. He sighed. He felt like he’d let her down since they’d arrived back in England. The last thing either of them needed was more public speculation over their friendship on top of what they’d known they’d be facing with Ron and Ginny, but lately because of the trouble, he felt like he’d even lost her unconditional friendship. Well, he hadn’t lost it, it had just been very difficult to have it under the circumstances. He’d been trying to tell her about the place they were currently sitting in for weeks. He’d wanted to surprise her, but it had only been in its planning stages before they’d arrived, and he’d made Fred and George promise not to tell anyone before he’d granted them membership.
The worst thing was though, that he knew that Ron would love this place, and he felt very guilty about not bringing him here. Mind you after this morning… but Harry didn’t finish that thought.
Things were complicated with Ron at the moment. They had been since Lisbon, and now because of his attitude towards Hermione, Harry wasn’t going to tell him about it until after they’d graduated. Then he scoffed to himself; this wasn’t even really about Hermione, he was certain it was about what Ron saw in Lisbon. But as usual poor ‘Mione’s been dumped into the middle of it. She doesn’t deserve that.
As he thought this, Harry made a mental note to make certain that Hermione was away from here before Ron found out about the bar. Harry was pretty certain that Ron would be furious with him once he found out. Of course, that’s if he speaks to me again after this morning, but then his anger surged forward again. How dare he accuse Hermione of being a nuisance.
Hermione meant a great deal to Harry. She was like his sister, and he hated seeing her so torn up. His friendship with Ron had strings now, but he knew that Hermione was his lifelong, committed friend, something that Ron no longer was.
He sighed and looked back to his menu as Estelle came back with their drinks and for their orders. Once the waitress had left Harry told them more about the place. “I guess it’s really a private club. At the moment, there are wards similar to those that guard The Leaky Cauldron on the front door, not that I have a problem with Muggles, it just screens wizarding passers-by.”
“Yes, we have similar ones on one of our businesses,” Draco said, nodding.
Harry acknowledged Draco’s comment, and then continued, “I don’t need to make money, I just wanted a place where people feel safe to socialise without fans hassling them or people bothering them in any way. Since we’ve been back here I’ve spent a lot of time here, but I’m glad I’ve finally gotten to share it with you, ‘Mione. I’ve felt bad that you didn’t know, but we’ve all been so busy, and the night it opened I was having another problem with Ron and you were nowhere to be found. I’d been planning to bring you then and surprise you.”
Hermione huffed. “I’ve spent that much time hiding since we’ve been back. I’m sorry you couldn’t find me.”
“How long has it been open?” Draco asked.
“It opened on ‘Mione’s birthday,” Harry replied.
It didn’t take Hermione long to figure out that Harry had planned it that way, but that she’d been denied because… and that woke her anger again. “This is exactly why things need to change up at Hogwarts. I hate that I’ve got to hide away all the time if I want any peace.” She gave both of them each a side-long glance. “I knew it would be hard coming back, but I didn’t think it would be this hard. I’m still considering leaving, you know.”
“Let’s hope that it doesn’t come to that, Princess,” Draco said, taking her hand, then looking to Harry. “We have to carve out a niche for ourselves up at Hogwarts like you have here.”
“That would be good, but you two already have that,” Harry sighed. “Dodging everyone to get out and then flying backwards and forwards to here all the time is very time consuming. We need a place to study and hang out where we feel safe, and with only people we trust.” He thought about it for a moment. “I suppose we should give McGonagall the benefit of the doubt. She might solve our problem for us.”
Draco snorted, but remained silent as Estelle returned once more, with their food order this time.
Once she’d gone, he leant forward. “If she manages to come up with a solution—and I’m pretty certain that’s a lost cause—she’ll only think of being fair for everyone, that’s her job. We want somewhere that we’ve got control over, like you have here.”
“Yes, but let’s not ruin the mood,” Hermione replied, and they turned their attentions to their food.
As they atethey talked and savoured the peace and quiet, watching the comings and goings of the other patrons.
“This was exactly what I needed,” Hermione sighed as she sat back in the corner of the booth. “Thank you, Harry, it has been great.”
“Yes, I must concur on that point,” Draco added. “It’s been like a true reprieve.”
“You’re welcome, guys. Sometimes I wish I could just live in my office here and only go up there when I had to,” and he indicated the hill behind them where Hogwarts was.
Hermione snorted. “Oh yes, please,” she sighed. “I would never have thought my panic attacks would come back, and that wasn’t even after twenty four hours of being back.”
“Have you had anymore, since that first night?” Harry asked, annoyed with himself that he hadn’t even thought to ask her. He picked her hand up and caressed her knuckles with his thumb.
“I’ve had a few, but Severus has kept me supplied with Calming Draught, and it really helps.” But then she snorted. “It’s kind of weird having him looking after me so well. Nice… but weird,” she added, smiling as she thought about it.
“Hey, have you ever thought of having a dancer here?” Draco asked.
Harry suddenly grinned at Hermione, but he appeared to go off on his own train of thought. “I wonder if performing might be the key to the problem?” Harry asked, and when she gave him a thoughtful look, he added, “Do you think that might be why the attacks disappeared while we were away? Every time you were stressed you would perform.”
“You, performed? How?” Draco asked.
“Burlesque,” she answered plainly.
Harry cocked an eyebrow. “Might be time for your alter ego to make an appearance again,” he said.
“Germany is a long way away at present, Harry,” Hermione laughed. “I’d need to prepare, practice again. Raven doesn’t just happen you know.”
“Raven?” Draco asked, he was becoming more and more interested.
“Yes, and that’s not for public consumption, Malfoy,” Harry stated seriously.
Draco smirked. “The same rules can apply as they do behind our office door, mate. Do tell me more,” he insisted.
“There’s nothing more to tell, Draco. When we came back to England I decided that Raven—my performance persona—needed to take a holiday too,” Hermione told him, then she turned to Harry. “But you’re right, it used to get rid of a lot of my stress, and not feeling able to cut loose here has been hard.”
“So just reinvent yourself, Princess,” Draco stated, like it was that simple.
Her head swung back around to Draco, and she smiled at him. “It’s not that simple, Draco. Here is not the right place for something like burlesque.” She turned back to Harry. “Don’t get me wrong, Harry, this place is amazing, but it’s not right for…”
“It’s okay, love, I know what you’re saying,” Harry said, chuckling. “And you’re right.” Then he turned to Draco. “And it’s plain to see that you do not even know what we’re talking about.”
“So show me,” Draco returned.
Harry took Hermione by the hands. “We could owl Franz and tell him that Raven will make an appearance on New Year’s Eve.”
“But Harry, my costumes are packed away. Where could I rehearse? I haven’t performed for months.”
“Snape has a whole duelling space. It’s got mirrors and everything,” Harry replied.
“You said yourself that we needed to involve him,” Draco added. Uncertain of exactly what was going on, but fairly confident that he was being handed the key to something amazing.
Harry and Draco’s faces registered great excitement, and to Hermione it looked like a runaway train gathering speed, and she felt like she needed some control. “What are you guys planning?” she asked warily. “I’m fairly certain that wizarding Britain is nowhere near ready for clubs like we’ve seen on the continent, and I would not be comfortable with people outside our group knowing who Raven is.”
“Your true identity could be hidden, but it’s a fabulous idea,” Harry replied. “It would be like a gentlemen’s club,” he enthused, becoming carried away with the idea, even if he was vaguely wondering if he was making a deal with the devil allowing Draco to be involved.
“I’ve got an old warehouse at the other end of Diagon Alley, off Maple lane, and Blaise and I had been considering opening an exclusive club of some kind.” He looked at them and smirked smugly. “And I think that perhaps I’ve just heard exactly what we need. I want to learn more.”
“I was just thinking of one performance, Draco, not a whole business,” Hermione warned.
“Yes, Princess, and I’m looking forward to your one performance, but I think Malfoy Zabini Incorporated may have just found the project we’re looking for.”
“Make it, Potter, Malfoy, and Zabini and you’ve got yourself a deal. I’d like in,” Harry told Draco.
Harry saw Hermione sitting there with her brow furrowed in consternation, and he said, “Come on, what do you say, ‘Mione? We could show the filthy rich men who want to open a club for other filthy rich guys how it works?” he laughed.
Hermione considered it for some moments but then nodded. “Okay, it might be exactly what we need,” she smiled. “So, what’s first?”
“Well I vote that over the Christmas break, the five of us head for the continent and check out how they do it,” Draco proclaimed. “I’ve got nothing better to do over Christmas.”
“Five?” Hermione asked.
“Yes, you, me, Potter, Blaise and Severus.” Then he took in her confused expression. “Oh, you two don’t know, do you? Severus is my business mentor at present,” and he sighed. “Since Father is indisposed and Mother is not well enough…” but he paused to glance at them. “If father ever gets out then he’d…” He suddenly stopped talking and looked uncomfortable. “Would that be a problem?”
“From what I saw just before the Final Battle, your father was a different man to the one I met in Flourish and Blotts just before second year,” Harry said. “The question is, is he likely to ever get out?”
“I’m hoping so,” Draco replied. “You’re correct, Potter, he really has learned his lesson.” He felt Hermione thread her hand into his and her head come to rest on his shoulder.
Harry looked at the pair of them and said, “Look, I’m really interested in this idea, but I’ve got some business to attend to, so I’ll catch you later, yeah?” and he leant across and kissed Hermione on the cheek.
She pulled him into a hug. “Thanks, Harry, I’ve enjoyed this lunch. How about we all meet up in our sitting room after dinner, and later you can sleep on our lounge if you don’t want to go back to Gryffindor Tower,” she said, glancing at Draco.
“Yes, that’s fine with me,” he agreed. “When we get back I’ll owl Blaise and speak to Severus too,” he added.
“Great,” Harry replied. “Now I feel like I’ve got some purpose,” he said, smiling.
“We’ll get back up to the castle so Hermione can start organising herself,” Draco said, lacing an arm around Hermione’s waist.
“Cool, see you both at dinner,” Harry replied as he got up.
~~~***~~~
Draco and Hermione arrived safely back in through the same window, and as soon as they were off the broom, Draco smirked. “Well, I kept you safe, now come on, dance for me,” he commanded.
“Oh, I see, blackmail,” she laughed.
“You bet,” he grinned.
“No, I’m not going to do anything until I’m properly prepared, besides you’ve got to owl Blaise and talk to Severus.”
“Smart girl,” he told her. “Want to walk to the owlery with me?” he asked.
“I need to change, and I want to start working out a new routine for New Year.”
“I could assist you with a different kind of workout,” he said suggestively pulling her closer.
“Tease!” she laughed and pulled away as she batted his arm. “Out!” she told him smiling. Then before he could answer she was running up the stairs to her bedroom to look through her drawers for workout clothing. Mind you, she did stand there for a minute smiling. What had she gotten herself into?
Hermione had always loved dancing and singing. She’d taken lessons until she’d gone to Hogwarts, and of course then she’d only been able to practice during the holidays. However, after the war she’d started practicing again to keep the physique she’d gained running around the country side.
Then once they were away from England she’d found a dance studio that taught dance with some gymnastics and circus tricks and she’d really loved it. It had been her teacher there, Marta, who’d taken her to her first burlesque club and she’d instantly wanted to try it for herself, and that had been when Raven had been born.
She sighed and sat on her bed. Wow, where could this new opportunity lead? and she decided not to think about it, and went back to finding her stockings and leotard. While she’d been here at Hogwarts she’d not had anywhere to dance, she’d been taking regular walks and three times a week she ran from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade and back again, but she’d not danced.
Her bedroom really didn’t have enough room for dancing activities, but she went out into the middle of the space now and started stretching. As she did so she thought that she should owl Marta and see if she could catch up with her over Christmas to take the rusty edges off whatever routine she came up with.
~~~***~~~
As he walked to the owlery, Draco decided that he was actually a coward. He was willing to send an owl to a good friend who was in the same building just because he didn’t want trouble with the witch who was chasing him. He hadn’t told Severus—or anyone else yet—but the witch had tried to dose him with a love potion on Thursday.
He laughed to himself. Stupid bint, doesn’t she realise that all Malfoys are inoculated against such things. However, he was starting to think that being here was not worth the trouble, and if that were true for him, then a troubling thought occurred to him, and he wondered how Greg Goyle was coping. He hadn’t seen his friend much since they’d returned; he’d tutored him a couple of times, but more often than not he hadn’t been turning up. Draco knew that he’d joked with Hermione about it, but he and Blaise had promised Flint that they’d keep an eye on the boy.
Poor Greg, he never was the brightest candle in the box. His description made him snicker softly. Greg really wasn’t a candle at all, but still, Draco did feel guilty for not keeping up with his house mate. He’d realised some time back that Greg and Vincent had turned into the thugs they’d been because of his influence when they’d first started at Hogwarts.
Vincent had lost his life because of it. Draco sighed. It didn’t matter that they’d all been products of their fathers’ misguided beliefs, everyone deserved a fair go in life, and at that moment he realised just how much of his godfather had rubbed off on him. That was one of Severus’ sayings. Must have been a Muggle thing.
Snape had a very brilliant head for what Muggle concepts could be adapted to work in the wizarding world, and he also seemed to know what would help people who seemed to be unreachable because of their circumstances. It had been Severus’ idea to buy the old ware house on Maple Lane, as well as the property next door, and with his help they had opened a duelling establishment.
Severus was a crack dueller, and he’d trained Marcus Flint and Miles Bletchley as instructors. Now, wizards who fancied themselves as duellers could come and train, and learn. They had even gained a training contract from the Aurory recently. Then a security firm had developed alongside the duelling business.
Straight after the war everyone had wanted extra wards and safety measures, so Severus had met demand. The business was called ‘Flintlock’ and with Lucius’ blessing, it was Malfoy Industries’ first forage into the security business. Of course, most people would run screaming if they knew that the Malfoys were the ones supplying security to their businesses and homes, so they were silent partners, and Marcus Flint ran it.
He was now on his way back from the owlery and he ducked into a shortcut one floor below his rooms, as his thoughts turned from business to Hermione. He was really looking forward to seeing her dance. She came across as such a straight laced witch, and even though he’d seen behind that façade now, he still couldn’t wait to meet Raven.
He’d just started deliberating on how much of the story to divulge to Severus, and was deep in thought not taking any particular notice of his surroundings, when he suddenly found himself hung up by the ankle from the ceiling.
Once he had his bearings, he listened into the sudden silence, as it was a very badly lit corridor, and his blood ran cold. There was no noise, and that meant that he was not dealing with Gryffindors; he had allowed himself to be taken by surprise by Slytherins.
“Let me down!” Draco commanded.
“No,” said an obviously angry voice. “I’m sick of you ignoring me, Draco!” It was Astoria, and she was having a complete hissy fit, and he wondered who had goaded her into doing this.
“I said, let me down,” Draco repeated, trying to organise himself enough to get a hand to his wand. He managed to touch his wand, but the answer to his question came in the form of a stinging jinx.
“Oi, stop that,” he said, managing to move his upper body so that the jinx sizzled past his ear. “What the hell are you doing?”
More jinxes followed and her screechy banshee voice abused him with every one of her hexes. “I’m going to make you marry me, you know. You’re not going to get to keep your Mudblood whore either. I’ll see to that. I’ll fix her.”
Draco was listening to the madness spewing out of her mouth as his eyes were madly scanning the hallway looking for movement, and finally he saw something. “Incarcerous,” he shouted, and heard a satisfying thud.
“Bastard!” she yelled. “Untie me this instant. This is no way to treat the witch who’s going to be your wife.”
“Silencio!” Draco spat the silencing spell, and started trying to work out how he could get down. His head was starting to feel really heavy, and he was having trouble breathing deeply, but even if he used magic, he knew he would crack his head open if he tried to release himself from the sticking spell, there was not enough room between his head and the floor to turn before gravity did its job, and he couldn’t see what might be in the way either.
~~~***~~~
Hermione had come down into their sitting room to have more room, and as she stretched herself out after her workout she wondered why Draco was not back, but then she thought, he must be having a good talk with Severus. She went back up to her room and had a shower and changed, before starting down towards dinner.
As she went through the office she met Severus coming out of his quarters. “Oh,” she said, “Draco’s not with you?”
“No,” Severus replied. “Is he supposed to be?”
“He was going to send an owl to Blaise, and then he was coming to talk with you.”
Severus shrugged. “Well, perhaps he decided to visit Blaise instead.”
“Maybe,” Hermione replied.
They walked out into the hallway and saw Blaise coming up the hallway. “Draco sent me a note,” he said. “So I thought I’d come and give him my answer while we walked down to dinner.”
“So you haven’t seen him either?” Hermione asked. “Oh,” she said turning to Severus. “I don’t like the sound of this.”
Severus nodded. “Indeed,” he replied. “He was going to the owlery, you said?”
“Yes,” Hermione replied, now obviously concerned.
“I will take a walk to the owlery and see if he’s gotten lost somewhere,” Severus chuckled.
“I want to come too,” Hermione said.
“Yes, me too,” Blaise agreed.
“I’m sure it’s nothing. You two go to dinner, I’ll find him,” Severus said, waving them off.
Hermione’s lip slipped between her teeth, but Blaise placed a hand in the middle of her back. He could read his former head of house better than Hermione could, and he saw concern pass across the man’s brow, and he knew he would be better getting the little witch to go to dinner with him. “Yes, the professor is correct. He’ll just have lost track of time somewhere,” he told her. “Come on, we’ll go to dinner.”
After watching Severus walking away in the direction of the owlery, his robes billowing out behind him, Hermione finally nodded. “Okay,” she said, but her stomach felt like it was in knots and as hungry as she was she knew she’d never be able to eat anything.
Chapter 8: Things Get a Little Too Serious
Notes:
Disclaimer:- I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.
~~~***~~~
A/N:- Thank you to Golden Asp, for her beta work on this chapter, as well as to all for your comments and kudos, I appreciate them all.
Chapter Text
They arrived for dinner, and Hermione noticed that only one of her usual nuisances was present, and she wondered where the Greengrass girl was. She also noticed that Ron seemed to be very subdued after this morning, and she thought he was about to speak to her, but then Harry arrived, and sat on her other side, and Ron seemed to change his mind.
Hermione couldn’t eat anything, because as time went by neither Draco nor Severus arrived, and this made her very unsettled.
Of course Harry noticed that she wasn’t eating, and he said, “What’s wrong? Has something else happened?”
“Draco’s gone missing,” she whispered, but then said louder, “I’m not that hungry, I think I’ll go back up,” and she glanced at Blaise, and was just about to get up when Millicent Bulstrode spoke.
“Has your blood-traitor boyfriend gone missing, Mudblood?” and a couple of the others tittered softly.
“You think Malfoy is a blood-traitor?” Harry gasped. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Shut it, Potty,” Millicent said, sneering.
Hermione turned to see the sneer on the face of the black-haired young woman, and said, “Careful, Bulstrode, you’re letting you mouth get away with you.”
Of course, Ginny chose that moment to add petrol to the fire. “Of course, she doesn’t have a boyfriend of her own, she’s too busy stealing everyone else’s,” the redhead stated, glaring at Hermione, before turning to Luna. “You better watch Neville, she’ll be after him next.” She warned spitefully.
“That’s enough!” Harry said, glaring at Ginny. “The reason I do not want to go out with you has nothing to do with Hermione, so stop spreading lies.”
However, before Harry could retaliate, another voice cut in.
“Mudblood, bitch,” Daphne Greengrass spat. “But your little friends are right about you and Draco, aren’t they?”
Hermione looked on stone-faced. As difficult as it was she was determined not to allow them to get to her. She remained silent, even as her heart started pounding and her throat started to close over. Then a strange thought entered her head. She was reacting to Draco Malfoy being hurt as she would to Harry being hurt. Had she become so close to him, that it hurt her when there was something wrong with him?
However, as she was thinking this, to her profound surprise Ron stood up for her because Harry was still dealing with Ginny. “You know, Hermione puts up with a lot, but let me tell you,” he said, glaring at the Slytherins. “You really do not want to get on her bad side.”
He’d just finished speaking when Ginny jumped to her feet and all but screamed. “Well, who is it then?”
Harry glanced around the hall at their gathering audience. While they’d been arguing, more and more people had started watching. His eyes flitted up to the head table and thankfully the headmistress wasn’t there, but Professors Flitwick and Sinistra were giving them disapproving looks. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not ready to tell yet.”
Quickly realising several things at once, Hermione got up from the table. Her mind was a whirl. “Well, I think the lot of you are nutters,” she said to the Slytherins, hoping that they hadn’t seen the moment she’d worked out what was happening. They knew something, she was sure of it, and she pulled on Blaise’s sleeve as inconspicuously as she could and gave him a significant look.
Harry saw the look that passed between them, and he saw Blaise lean over and say something to Greg Goyle, and they got up and followed Hermione from the table. This made Harry get up and follow her too as she walked out of the hall.
Hermione was trying to appear like she was not hurrying, but as soon as the doors of the Great Hall closed behind them she grasped her throat and grimaced before reaching into her pocket for the phials of Calming Draught, as she said, “Those Slytherins are responsible for Draco being missing, I just know it,” she managed, starting to cough as she opened the little wooden box and reached in for a dose. She noted with some concern that it was her last one, but she downed it and pushed off the door and started back towards their rooms with Harry, Blaise and Greg following.
Hermione made it to the portrait in record time, with all the boys keeping up. “Has Draco come back?” she asked Violet, as they also heard the others stop behind her.
“Yes, the professor and Mister Malfoy have just gone in with someone else,” Violet answered, looking very worried. “The headmistress is on her way too,” she added.
Hermione didn’t stop to ask any more questionsshe just went in with the boys following her. However, she stopped suddenly in shock, causing a five person pile up in the office door way. There was Severus standing over Astoria Greengrass in full snarky Potions Master mode.
He spun around as they entered but only glared at them. He was obviously incredibly angry. “Madam Pomfrey is with Mister Malfoy, move through and stay in the sitting room until I tell you otherwise,” he told them, not a flicker of emotion on his face.
The scene that greeted them in the sitting room was no better. Draco was laying on the lounge and he was covered in blood. The matron was casting diagnostics on him, and she glanced up as they came in and stood around gaping.
“Oh no,” Hermione whispered as the very wane Draco looked up at her from the lounge but remained silent. She grabbed Harry’s hand and held on. How had this become so nasty? They hadn’t even quite made it to the end of the first term.
Eventually, Madam Pomfrey nodded. “You’ve broken a small blood vessel in your nose from being upside down for so long. I’ve repaired it, other than that you’ve been lucky, young man. I’ll report this to Professor Snape on my way out. Just take it easy tonight, all right?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Draco said, sounding like his nose was blocked. “Thank you.”
They all watched the matron leave, and then Draco sat himself up a bit. There was silence for some moments, but then Hermione asked what they all wanted to know.
“What happened?”
Draco shook his head. “The Greengrass girl decided that I needed to be punished for not wanting her. She took me by surprise,” he muttered, as he watched Greg sit beside him. “It’s okay, mate,” he said, when Greg grunted. “I’m glad they brought you too,” and he put on a brave face for his friend.
Hermione had not thought of Greg Goyle apart from thinking that he was a simpleton bully, but seeing the care that Blaise and Draco were sparing for him, she realised that there might be more to the story then she’d first thought.
As she was considering this, Severus walked in. “What happened?” she asked him.
Severus looked around the people present before he answered. “I found Draco hanging upside down from the ceiling in that hidden passageway on the floor above, the short cut,” he told them. “Miss Greengrass has been taken by the Aurors, she will be charged with assault.”
“I can’t believe this,” Blaise said, obviously trying to keep a straight face. “It’s not like you to have your guard down.”
“No, it’s not,” Draco replied, aware of his friend’s amusement. “I was distracted by everything going through my head. It won’t happen again.”
Hermione had been leaving for dinner tonight with a confidence in her step that she’d not been able to find often here at Hogwarts. She’d been happy after her workout and very surprised and pleased at how well Harry and Draco had gotten on today. Now this, well it made her feel sick to the stomach.
“However, that’s not the worst of it,” Draco said, looking to Severus. “The stupid bint made certain threats against Hermione while she was taunting me.” He turned to Hermione. “I’m sorry, Princess.”
“It’s not your fault, Draco” Hermione said, her mouth tight.
“She’s been suspended from Hogwarts,” Severus told them, but there was grave concern in his tone.
“What about the rest of them, the other Greengrass girl, Bulstrode and Nott? They all made threats too,” Harry said.
“Yes, there’s got to be something we can do?” Blaise insisted.
“There is,” Severus answered. “Be more vigilant and as much as possible do not go out of the main areas of the school alone.”
“Oh, you must be joking?” Harry scoffed. “Is that the best we can do? Has nothing changed since we left?”
“Mister Potter, have you ever known me to joke?”
“No, sir,” Harry replied, a little uncertain.
“However, you are correct, little has changed. It is one of the reasons that those who were most effected by the conflict do not stay within certain English wizarding provinces for long. This place is a prime example,” and he gestured around them. “Most of us here in this room are already feeling like we’re beating our heads against a wall.”
Harry just looked at him, and nodded dumbly. He had never seen Severus Snape like this, and he realised just how different this was. The man’s answers were very astute comments on what was happening. “Do you think we’ll succeed, sir?”
“No,” Snape replied. “This is like wading in mud, or even worse, sinking in quicksand. Yet, like lemmings we continue to trudge forward.”
Hermione watched her friends struggling with her new reality, and she changed the subject. “Are you sure you’re all right, Draco?” she asked, as she sat down on the other side of him. She looked him over. The matron had tended his wounds in her usual efficient style, but he still looked a mess.
“I’m fine, Princess,” he said, getting up on what looked like slightly shaky legs. “But now I’m going to have a shower and then a bit of dinner, rattle their chains a bit,” and he looked to Severus and Blaise, but then glanced at Greg. He walked forward to speak softly, leading his godfather and friend further away from the others. “This afternoon, Hermione, Potter, and I came up with a plan for the warehouse on Maple Lane, that’s what we wanted to meet about tonight,” he said.
Draco glanced at Harry, and he looked back to his fellow Slytherins and said, “I suspect it will be tomorrow before we can meet now.”
“Very good,” Severus replied, nodding, and then he was turning towards Hermione.
Blaise remained, talking quietly to Draco as Greg came over to them.
Hermione saw Severus coming towards her and asked, “Would it be all right if I used our Potions classroom to brew some more Calming Draught?” she asked.
“I can’t see that as a problem, but bear with me for a moment please, my dear,” and Severus looked to Harry and Greg. “Leaving now, gentlemen?”
“Oh, yes, sir,” Harry said, taking the hint and hurrying towards the sitting room door, nodding to the professor as he went out the door. Blaise and Greg took the same hint and followed.
As Harry walked up towards Gryffindor territory, he was deep in thought. Ron was very quiet tonight. He so isn’t ready for knowing the full extent of things, and he sighed. I wonder if he’ll ever be ready? I’ll be taking Hermione’s offer of their lounge once I’ve collected some things from Gryffindor Tower.
He sighed. Earlier in The Great Hall, he’d wanted to scream at Ginny that he didn’t want her because he was gay, but that would have just made everything a hundred times worse. No, he couldn’t say anything, and for the first time he wondered if being here was the right thing.
He and Hermione had discussed his options in the Muggle system, and she was right; it offered so many alternatives for education, and the wizarding system was coming with all the baggage that they thought they’d left behind by escaping the country. It looked like all they’d done was postpone the problems.
~~~***~~~
Back at the little office, Severus had just seen the Gryffindor and Slytherins out, and as soon as the door closed he turned to Hermione, and as he did the serious Potions Master dropped from his expression. “Hermione, you require more calming draught already?”
“Why do you ask?” Hermione countered, closing her eyes to try and centre herself as she contemplated what she’d heard Draco relate, but she took a deep breath and nodded.
Severus exhaled, she was going to be stubborn, but he continued calmly. “I did not know that your attacks were happening this frequently, and now it looks like you’re going to be suffering more stress.”
“I can look after myself, s-sir,” she stated grimly, swallowing slowly and deliberately, and even as her eyes welled up regardless. She forced her emotions back down and cleared her throat.
“However, I insist that you must take care.”
“I can easily promise you I will take care, s-sir,” but her voice trailed off as she stumbled—for the second time—over calling him ‘sir’, and that was not even mentioning the subject of their conversation.
Severus noticed this, and said, “Hermione, within the confines of these walls, you are an adult who is a student, and when we’re alone I am Severus.” He opened the door that led to his quarters, and gestured that she should precede him. “Now, would you do me the honour of dining with me? I would like to learn from you about the idea Draco spoke to me about concerning Maple Lane.”
As if on cue her stomach rumbled. “Oh, pardon me,” she gasped.
“I believe your stomach might think it’s a good idea,” he replied, the corner of his mouth rising into a smile.
“All of me thinks it might be a good idea. I would love to have dinner with you,” she laughed.
“Excellent, then please have a seat while I organise it with my elf.”
While they ate Hermione explained what the three of them had discussed that afternoon, and then she told him more about the types of entertainment that she thought might suit.
“So, almost a cross between circus, cabaret, and burlesque,” Severus commented.
“You know about all of those things?” Hermione gasped.
“I’m a half-blood, Hermione. The circus often came to our home town, and there was a fairly dubious burlesque—well really more of a strip joint—up the road from where I lived.”
“Wow,” Hermione gasped. “That’s great, Draco had no idea what it was,” she said, smiling.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Severus said, sitting back and lighting a cigarette. “However, you seem to know more than I do,” he commented.
She smiled. “It’s my thing. I enjoy performing.”
He blew a plume of smoke over her head, and noticed her inhaling deeply, and his smile had a wicked edge. “Do you dance to tease?”
His lovely voice rolled over her, and her brain almost stopped thinking, but she managed to answer him. “I enjoy singing, dancing and on occasion teasing as well.”
“Ah, I see.” He nodded, and they sat in silence for some moments, but then he changed tack. “Where are you going to get the people to staff such an establishment?” he asked, blowing more smoke up and over her head. “I cannot imagine any wizards and witches wanting to perform. Whilst they’ll want to watch, they are incredibly lazy when it comes to physical pursuits.”
“On the continent, most of the wizarding clubs like the one we’re describing are staffed and run by Muggleborns and Squibs,” she told him. “In fact, this sort of enterprise tends to be a way for Squibs to maintain a presence in the world they were born into whilst using Muggle skills they have acquired because they do not have any magic. Did you know that in some countries Squib births are as high as one in three, and Squibs are still cast out of wizarding families? It’s really sad. I wish there was something we could do to address this problem as well.”
“Indeed I did, however, it is a rather touchy subject with a lot of people.”
“Well, it would be great if there was a halfway house of some kind where Squib children could learn about both worlds safely.”
“A lot of Squibs are too bitter to want to participate in the wizarding community,” Severus said.
“I believe if they were not made to feel like they’re worthless before they even have a chance to grow up as whole individuals then that might change,” Hermione told him seriously.
“So, you’ve moved on from saving the house elves to bigger problems, have you?” Severus chuckled.
Hermione blushed. “You knew about that?” she said, cringing.
He chuckled darkly. “I certainly did,” and he leant forwards. “And just between the pair of us, I was supporting you.”
Hermione looked at him seriously. “Well, I know more about house elves now, and I know that they do not thrive unless they’re serving. I still believe that they should be treated humanely, but I can see it from their side now as well,” she stated, her eyes narrowed and her fork being used as a pointer as she spoke. “I think it’s time that the wizarding world stood up for all its parts, and not just the convenient ones,” she declared.
“I whole-heartedly agree,” Severus chuckled. “Now, do you have any more information I need to know?”
“Oh,” Hermione gasped. “Yes, we’re planning to take the Christmas holidays and use it as a fact finding and information gathering excursion throughout Europe’s best burlesque clubs.” Her eyes rose to meet his. “I hope you can come.”
“Indeed,” he said, the corner of his mouth rising. “How could I say no? I will be in Europe over Christmas anyway as I have some library research to occupy me,” he said, picking up his wine glass. “Coffee?” he asked.
However, Hermione hadn’t heard anything after the word ‘library’. “Oh, are you going to some of the exclusive wizarding libraries?” she asked, her eyes as large as saucers.
Severus chuckled. “Oh, I do declare, you are a faultless combination of innocence and cleverness,” and he observed her over the rim of his glass for some moments, enjoying her rosy blush. Then his eyebrow rose enticingly. “It might be possible that I would be able to use an assistant…” he told her, keeping his sentence open-ended, and using his best bored tone. “I don’t suppose you would know of anyone who might be interested in that position?”
“Oh, me, Severus!” she enthused.
His lips twitched as he continued to tease her. “Oh, a know-it-all Gryffindor assistant. I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said, his infallible expression still in place, but just as she was about to launch into a pleading speech she saw the very subtle twinkle in his eye.
That was when she realised why it had been so easy for this man to be such a successful spy for so many years, people only saw what he allowed them to see.
“Oh, very well,” he said, and to his surprise she was up and around the table in record time, and he found himself with his arms full of sweet smelling witch.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” she kept repeating enthusiastically. “You won’t be sorry, I’ll be an amazing assistant,” she babbled at him.
Pulling her back to arm’s length, Severus chuckled. “Well, in all honesty, you already are being an amazing assistant. Daily hugs could be very nice.”
“Only hugs?” she asked flirtatiously.
Pushing her away gently, he smiled at her as he got up from his chair. He kissed her forehead and looked at her seriously. “More is too complicated here.”
She couldn’t hide her disappointment, but she nodded. “I understand… Oh, I better start brewing,” but just stood there looking at him.
“There’s no need. I’ve just completed an order for the infirmary, you can have some of that,” he said. “However, next time the infirmary order will be yours to fill, my assistant,” and he chuckled.
His decadent rumbling laugh went straight through her, but she managed to say, “Thank you.” However, then, in the face of another kindness from him, her guilt over the day of the battle roared into life again, and before she knew it she was she’d blurted, “You’re being so kind to me, but I can never forgive myself for leaving you without aid the day of the battle.”
To her surprise, he sighed and said, “Again, I am unwilling at this time to explain to you why you left me that day, but allow me to say that it was not your fault. You fully intended to assist me.”
Hermione just looked at him. “You did something?” she asked. “To make me go away?”
“I did,” he admitted, “but that explanation can wait for another day,” and as he’d been speaking he’d also been guiding her towards his lab. He picked up a flask of Calming Draught and handed it to her. “Now, my little friend, rest easy,” and he held out his hand to her.
Hermione met his long cool fingered hand with her smaller one, and he grasped it securely.
“Thank you, I’ve had a very pleasant evening,” and he brought her hand to his lips.
“So have I,” she replied, watching his gallant gesture with eager eyes.
“Excellent. Now, remember, do not venture out of the main areas of the castle alone. I am hoping that the next week until term ends will pass quickly, but of course we all know it will drag.”
Hermione then found that she was back in the little office that joined their quarters, and he was backing back into his quarters. She hadn’t even noticed that they’d been walking as he’d been speaking to her, but more importantly she hadn’t noticed him whisper the words of a dream spell before he’d shut the door.
She smiled. “Sneaky bugger,” she muttered, and turned toward her own common room, but as she opened the door, her heart sank when she saw Harry, Draco and Blaise sitting on the lounge all with questioning expressions on their faces.
“Where have you been?” Harry asked. “Snape told you to be careful.”
“Well,” and she glanced back at the door. “I was being careful. I was next door.”
They all looked at the Calming Draught flask in her hands and understanding dawned. “Oh, that’s right, you were brewing that stuff,” Draco said.
“Yes,” she replied quickly. “That’s all I was doing, brewing,” and she laughed softly.
Of course, the Slytherins saw that there was more going on here than what she’d just said, and one particular blond Slytherin called her out on it.
Draco smirked at her. “Oh really, Princess?” He rose from the lounge and sauntered towards her. “It’s close to ten. We left at seven, and Calming Draught takes twenty minutes to brew. Spill, pussycat, you’ve got cream all over your whiskers.”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “All right, I had dinner with Severus and we talked,” she stated. “Now, I’m going to bed. Good night all,” and she hurried up the stairs to the sound of male laughter.
~~~***~~~
She didn’t give her friends downstairs another thought as she got ready for bed, and sleep came easily for her she really was very tired, but with it came a dream.
She was in the Potions classroom and she was brewing, just like she’d thought she’d be tonight. However, then she noticed a presence behind her, and Severus was there, watching her. As she brewed he came closer and closer, and soon he was up against her looking over her shoulder.
“Am I a distraction?” he questioned softly, his silky voice caressing her ear. She shook her head. “Good. Leave that and dance for me,” he commanded.
She was suddenly wearing her favourite black leather leotard, with her spiky-heeled black boots and the scene had changed. She was posing on the stage of the German burlesque house she often performed in, waiting for the music to start, and her eyes were on Severus watching her as her only audience member.
A heavy bass started to thump and then percussion was added and she writhed up and down as he watched, a cocky grin on her face as Severus surveyed her with his arms folded across his chest.
Then he was with her on the stage. Up against her again, moving with her. “Lovely,” his delicious voice said smoothly, as his hands ran up and down her body. He grabbed her and twilled her as the music continued it sensuous sax line.
When she arrived back from her spin he caught her and pulled her possessively to him before he took a step back. His fathomless eyes perused her form, following the line of his questing hands on her. “Do you like men watching you?” he asked, his eyebrow cocked in that enticing way of his and his head tilted slightly as he took the step back towards her.
Hermione felt her heart thumping hard in her chest, and she hissed in a breath as his hands came up and cradled her breasts. His thumbs ghosting touches over her nipples through the leather.
He leant forward so his lips were near her ear. “Well, do you?” he breathed in her ear.
“No… Yes… um, only sometimes,” her mind wouldn’t think, he was too close, and his sinful voice was in her ear again.
“Which times?” he drew out the whispered syllables, and emphasised the beginning of the word which, the breath huffing in her ear.
“Mostly it’s just dancing... B-But you…” but he chose that moment to gently lick the shell of her ear.
“Yes?”
“It’s different with you…” was all she could manage to say.
His lips were sucking on her neck and suddenly she was naked save her boots. “Why with me?” he questioned, his head travelling down to her breasts.
“Ummm…. ohhh, god,” she hissed, when his tongued flicked over a nipple and then his hot mouth closed over it. “Ummm…. Oh, Severus,” she moaned.
The dream choose that moment to change again. The music was still thumping sinuously around them but they were where she’d been just hours before, and he back her up onto the dining table where they’d shared dinner. His tongue moved down, travelling in delicious circles around her belly button as his fingers sank into her waiting heat.
She was lost. A tight band of desire was building inside her, and the only thing stopping her knees from buckling under her were his hand holding her waist, as well as her grip on the table behind her.
A hoarse and throaty rush of words left her mouth. “Oh, Severus…. Oh, yyeeeessss!” she exclaimed as he pushed her onto the table and bent down so the tip of his tongue swept over her clit. “Yes,” she repeated in a moan of want, holding his head in place.
He indulged her for some moments, but then he stood. Moving to stand between her legs, his lips capturing hers in a heated exchange as he freed himself from his trousers. “My lovely girl,” he said, his voice low and silky.
By this time Hermione was completely incoherent with lust and as he thrust into her willing body she wrapped her legs around his waist that she murmured, “Oh god…” and that was all she managed before a scream of passion escaped her as the heat that had been tightening inside her suddenly snapped and lashed her with its beautiful fire. He had worked her up so perfectly that she fell over the edge into bliss after his second thrust.
The remainder of what might have happened was then lost as Hermione’s eyes shot open and she sat up in bed. She was sweaty and she’d cum; it had been the most realistic dream she’d ever had. Not to mention the best sex, but then dream-sex was like that, and she flopped back down and sighed. “Wow,” she muttered in a long exhale, still attempting to get her breathing under control. That was amazing, but how I’m I going to face him in the morning? she wondered to herself, and she sighed again before she rolled over and tried to get back to sleep.
Chapter 9: A New Reality
Notes:
Disclaimer:- I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.
~~~***~~~
A/N:- Thank you to Golden Asp, for her beta work on this chapter, as well as to all for your comments and kudos, I appreciate them all.
Chapter Text
The next day was Sunday, and Hermione woke feeling delicious. Before she’d completely banished the sleep from her eyes she even rolled over to see if Severus was actually with her. She was a little stung to find herself alone, but then she laughed and recalled her dream. Now she thought about it, she had a very distinct feeling that last night’s dream had been woven especially for her, and she smiled to herself.
She showered and dressed, and then refilled the small phials in her Calming Draught case. She came out into the sitting room but found no one else there. There was a note however, and it was stuck on the back of the sitting room door. The note read - Potter and I will be back at nine thirty. Stay put until we arrive, Draco.
“Bloody cheek,” she muttered, and continued on her way out into the office, and knocked on Severus’ door. It took all of her control not simply launch herself into his arms, but she was glad for her self-control when he answered the door.
“What can I do for you, Miss Granger?” he asked officiously, his former dungeon bat expression set in stone.
At first Hermione was terribly disconcerted by his manner, but then she took in his attire of full teaching robes, stiff posture, very furrowed brow and warning eyes, and she thrust the empty flask out at him, and stuttered, “I’m s-sorry to interrupt you, s-sir, but I j-just wished to return the flask I t-took from the classroom last night when I’d finished brewing. Thank you for allowing me to take my project upstairs to finish.” Then she handed it to him, seeming stuck to the spot unable to leave.
Severus hated doing it, but he took the flask and with a curt nod he snapped the door shut again without a further word to her.
Hermione stood there for some moments just blinking at the door. Eventually she organised her feet and turned away. She wandered over to the desk where she flopped down into the chair. “What the hell just happened?” she muttered, looking back at the door. After everything last night… well I guess he made me no promises. That dream must have just been my wishful thinking.
~~~***~~~
When the boys arrived back, she was sitting at the small table in the sitting room writing an essay. Well, actually doodling on her piece of parchment was more accurate.
“Where have you two been?” she asked, looking up, glad of the distraction.
“We’ve just been sorting out our first Quidditch exhibition game with Madam Hooch,” Harry said excitedly. “Viktor’s coming,” he added.
“That’ll be nice,” Hermione commented, not really interested. “Is Kara coming too?” she added when Harry’s eyes narrowed. The last thing she wanted to do was admit that there was something wrong, Harry had enough things to think about. Besides, there was nothing he could do.
“I don’t know,” Harry replied, his expression clearing.
“Well, are you ready for breakfast,” Draco said. “I’m starving.”
“You know, there are startling similarities between you and Ron,” Harry laughed, and ducked the stinging hex that Draco sent his way.
“Bite your tongue, Potter!”
This made Harry cackle and he looked at Hermione. She reluctantly got up. She’d lost her appetite long ago, but she didn’t want questions.
The three of them were walking towards the door when it opened and Severus walked through. After being brushed off earlier, Hermione was wary this time, and she glanced behind him.
His face tightened as he watched her, but he addressed Harry and Draco. “Gentlemen, I will escort Hermione down to breakfast, I wish to speak with her.”
“Okay,” Harry and Draco said in unison without any question, and they just kept walking.
Hermione watched on guardedly, and once they were alone she felt very off kilter, even though she’d been so full of excitement to see him this morning.
He walked to where she was standing and picked up her hand. “I’m sorry about earlier,” he said. “Come,” he encouraged and tugged her along towards the lounge.
Once they were sitting, he kept her hand in his. “One of the elves who brought our dinner last night must have commented on something when it went back to the kitchen, because the headmistress landed on my doorstep half an hour ago, accusing me of all manner of heinous crimes against a Gryffindor.”
Hermione sighed heavily. “And I blundered in at exactly the wrong moment,” she sighed. “I’m sorry, Severus.”
“There is no need to be sorry, for all she knows you were only returning a piece of glassware, and you actually played your part beautifully.”
“I did?” she gasped, but then her lip slipped between her teeth. “Does this change our agreement in any way?”
He shook his head. “No, not that I can see. I have informed madam headmistress that I have enlisted you as an assistant, and that she can lump what she thinks about it.” He inhaled deeply, and then looked at her seriously. “Hermione, it may come to pass that I do not stay for the entire year; my tolerance for idiots is already growing extremely thin.”
“Yes, you and I seem to be in the same predicament on that respect.”
“You know you are beyond being here, don’t you?” he asked, ghosting his thumb over the knuckles of the hand.
“Yes, but I came back with the resolve to finish what I’d started.”
“And an honourable resolve it was. However, I fear it may be fatally flawed.”
Hermione heaved a deep sigh. “And I fear that you are completely correct in your analysis. However, being that we are almost to the end of term, I believe the real test for me will come in returning after spending two weeks away as a ‘normal’ adult,” and she used air quotes to highlight her statement.
He snorted softly. “An understatement, if ever I heard one.”
The both laughed together, and that was when Hermione stilled and covered his hand with hers. “Thank you, Severus. Thank you,” and she squeezed his hand.
“What are you thanking me for?” he asked, a raven eyebrow rising in a way that made her wonder if the dream really had been a planted, as she’d originally thought.
However, she didn’t mention that, she merely said, “I’m thanking you for what you’re doing for me. Making our lessons as involved as you can...” She glanced down at their joined hands, and then added, “And Harry’s ecstatic about his discussions with you.”
“You both deserve answers I could not give you before.”
Her earnest eyes watched him. “Yes, but most people would not have bothered to correct the inaccuracies. I mean, I worked out long ago that your situation prevented you from showing any consideration to any house but Slytherin, and whilst I do appreciate that you’re doing it now, I can’t help but wonder what you stand to get out of it.”
Her frank statement shocked him a little. He hadn’t thought her that insightful, after all she’d come back here. He was pleased that she had, but still. His answer to her was just as honest. “Hermione, you will discover when I get you alone and away from here that things are not truly as they seem, but I am unwilling and completely unable to explain that to you here.”
“Oh,” she gasped. “But you will explain it?”
“Yes, you’ll have to trust me on this one until the holidays commence.”
She nodded once. “Very well, until the holidays I will not question you further.”
“Thank you,” he replied.
“Severus?”
“Yes, my dear?”
“Would it be possible for me to use your duelling area as a rehearsal space for what I’ve promised to do on New Year’s Eve?”
“I can see several problems with that idea,” Severus replied.
She grimaced and nodded her understanding. “Oh,” she said, and her lip slipped between her teeth. “Sorry.”
“There is nothing to be sorry about,” Severus answered. “It’s just that the duelling room is in a public area of the school. While I have utter control over these room,” and he gestured around with his hand. “Yesterday and today’s developments negate you using that particular space I’m afraid.”
Hermione sighed. “Mmm,” she hummed in agreement.
“However,” and he pursed his lips, giving her a roguish look. “I could be persuaded to find an alternative for you. There is another premise that has rooms identical to the Hogwarts duelling space, and I can facilitate your practices there if you wish.”
She laughed at his leering expression. “Is it possible that you might like to attend these practices.”
“Perhaps,” he intoned in his most velvet of voices.
She laughed gaily. “Perhaps I might like a second opinion on my routine,” she said returning his expression with an impish one of her own.
“Indeed,” he stated. “When would you like to practice?”
“Would before lunch be too soon?”
“I will let you know. I have an errand to run this morning, but I will owl Flint and see when a room can be available for you.”
“Excellent,” she replied, her mouth twisting up into a smile. “How much will it cost?”
“I’m not expecting it to cost anything, now we best get you to breakfast,” Severus stated.
“Yes, I am rather hungry now,” she decided, tilting her head to one side.
Severus seemed to understand why she hadn’t been hungry before, and apart from the fact that he really did want this witch’s regards, it was one of the main reasons that he’d asked to speak to her as soon as the old bat had left.
As they walked down to breakfast, Severus thought about the fact that McGonagall did not know yet that he had actually finished developing the curriculum for the new Defence Studies syllabus, and if things continued the way they were going he was planning to hand it in to the chairman of the Hogwarts board of governors and leave. Of course, he couldn’t do that until those he had decided to ‘care’ for had also left, but he reasoned under the current circumstances that Hermione at least was not going to make it to the end of the term.
He and Draco had already had the discussion about whether or not Draco was going to stay. Although his problems may have been solved last night—with the temporary elimination of Astoria Greengrass—but there were still at least three Slytherins who took exception to Draco, as well as himself these day, and they could still cause him trouble. He came back from his thoughts as they arrived at the door of The Great Hall, and Severus opened them and ushered Hermione inside without showing that he was with her.
Before she entered the hall, she said, “Thank you,” softly, understanding that he could not be seen with her.
He nodded once. “Pleasure,” he replied, giving her one of his little half smiles, before he watched her walking to her friends. Only then did he walk through the doors himself and stride up to the teacher’s table. He nodded curtly to the headmistress. He was still seething about her insinuations, and he purposely ignored the Ross woman and went to sit next to Pomona Sprout.
“Odious witch,” Pomona commented as he sat down, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“I would prefer not to know,” Severus stated, and poured himself some coffee, before he held the pot up in offer to Pomona.
“I bet you don’t,” the little Hufflepuff cackled, holding her cup up for a refill. “Can’t think what Minerva was thinking hiring such a witch.”
Severus leant in closer and turned his upper body away from the others. The pair were sitting on the extreme end of the table, and several of the other professors had already left table. “She’s her niece,” he murmured.
Pomona tutted. “Of course, that would explain it.” She glanced up the table. “Some of my badgers have informed me that she’s a woeful teacher.”
“I have heard the same,” Severus agreed. However, their conversation was interrupted by a disagreement at the eighth-year table.
“Oh, not again,” Pomona commented. “Who is it this time?”
They both turned their attention to the fracas, and saw Charlie Weasley hurrying towards the table, as yet again one of his siblings became the centre of attention. This time it was Ron, who appeared to have two witches fighting over him.
“Ladies! Ronald. My office. Now!” everyone heard Charlie say as he walked by table without even breaking stride.
The hall as a whole watched Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil, who had been squabbling loudly, glared at one another and fall into line after Ron as Charlie marched them all from the hall.
Severus’ eyes searched for Hermione’s, and he saw amusement in her chocolate eyes. In fact most of the others around the table were chortling. He was glad that whatever had happened had not upset his witch, and then he thought, my witch… interesting. So, my heart has already claimed her. Then that led to thoughts of, why not? It’s obvious she wants you… and you want her, another voice whispered in his head. I wonder, he considered silently. Could she be the one that has escaped us for so long… and he disappeared into his own thoughts as Pomona excused herself to go and start her day.
The only other thing that he noticed as he finished his breakfast was that Hermione had left with Potter and Draco. However, he also saw the belligerent look levelled at her back by Ginevra Weasley, and this worried him. It worried him more than what the Slytherin dissenters were capable of. He inhaled deeply, and levering himself up, he also left to start his day.
~~~***~~~
As they walked up to the first floor, Draco, Harry, and Hermione decided that tonight would be the perfect time for the five individuals concerned to meet and discuss the project for the warehouse on Maple Lane.
“I have no problem including Blaise and Snape as members of The Hogshead,” Harry stated, as they walked. “We could meet at the bar. Let’s say, eight o’clock, and this time I’ll bring ‘Mione,” he said grinning knowingly at Draco.
“All right, that’s fair, you can be deafened by her squeal as you take off,” Draco smirked.
“I don’t mind,” Harry laughed, glancing at Hermione’s scowl.
“Oh, ha ha,” Hermione replied, pulling a face at them. “I don’t like flying, so sue me,” she said as they walked through the office adjoining their quarters.
“We wouldn’t want to do that, Princess,” Draco laughed, opening the sitting room door, but then glancing at Snape’s door. “I’ll go and inform Severus,” but he paused and looked at her slyly. “Unless you’d like to instead,” he added, waggling his eyebrows.
“No, Draco,” she stated primly, ignoring his innuendo. “I trust you to carry a simply message to Severus faithfully,” she replied, smiling sarcastically before turning away so he wouldn’t see her smile. She heard him spluttering, and she cackled softly.
Then Harry said, “She’s got you there, Mister Slytherin.”
“Oh, shut up, Potter,” the blond replied irritated, and then turned and stalked out the sitting room door leaving the two Gryffindors to it.
~~~***~~~
Draco knocked on Severus’ door, and heard, “Come,” from within. Draco had always wondered how Severus knew who was at his door, he assumed that it was a spying spell of some kind, but he’d never fathomed which one. However, it probably helped that it could only be him or Hermione, and he smiled and opened the door.
Snape finished his task of attaching a note to an owl’s leg, before he glanced at Draco and moved to what he’d obviously been doing before the owl arrived. He started packing potions into a small rack again before he spoke. “I’m just on my way to see your mother’s healer, and I believe it might be wise for you to accompany me,” he stated.
Draco replied casually. “Yes, I haven’t seen her for some time.” The truth was that he did not like visiting his mother in the sanatorium, but he hated visiting her alone more, so having Severus for moral support made it at least tolerable. “I came to ask you if you’re free to attend the meeting tonight, that was postponed last night following the problems?”
Severus nodded. “Yes, that will be fine.”
“Great,” Draco replied. “When are you leaving to see Mother?”
“As soon as I’ve finished packing this, but I can collect you from your rooms. I wish to speak with Hermione before we go.”
Draco’s expression turned suggestive, and Severus scolded, “And you can wipe that look off your face, young man.”
Undeterred, Draco said, “You know she’s crazy about you, don’t you?”
“I am not discussing this with you, Draco,” Severus stated in a warning tone,
Anyone else would have ceased speaking immediately, but not Draco Malfoy, he kept talking. “You know she said something very interesting the other day,” and he watched Severus closely for his reaction. “I want men, real wizards…Plural, she said plural,” he mimicked with startling realism, and he smirked as he went on to say more. “Then she said that she couldn’t have them… Them,” he chuckled. “Then she corrected herself and said that she’d meant to just him…” He tapped his finger on his lips and looked very sly. “Now, I wonder who she meant as well as you? Mmm?”
Severus took a deep breath, not giving anything away, and merely stated, “You know, your arrogance rivals that of your father’s,” and he huffed a breath out in annoyance. “What did you come in here for anyway? Oh, that’s right for that meeting tonight.”
“Yes,” the younger wizard stated, crowing inside at his godfather’s change of subject.
“Now I’ve told you that I am free… So take your arrogant arse out of here before I hex it for you,” Severus barked, going back to his task.
“Yes, sir,” Draco replied, and headed quickly for the door. He knew exactly how far he could push Severus before he did end up on the business end of his wand, and he had learned that the hard way, so it was an experience he never intended to repeat.
He made it out the door, but then turned back and asked, “Would you like me to send Hermione in to see you?” Draco saw Severus going for his wand and decided it was best to leave now.
When the door snapped shut, Severus chuckled to himself. “Meddling little brat,” he muttered. “Still… interesting information,” he said, pursing his lips, and then he cleared his throat and closed the case containing the potions. He summoned his cloak and prepared to leave. This warrants investigation, he thought as he walked across the little office. I might allow her to keep whoever she’s lusting after on top of me… Depends who it is, he thought, opening the door that led to their sitting room.
When he walked in, and noted that Draco was nowhere to be seen, and he smiled to himself. However, he also noticed that Potter was monopolising Hermione’s time.
Hermione looked up from pointing out a passage to Harry for his Charms essay, and she smiled at Severus. “Hello,” she said melodically.
For a moment she looked like she’d been about to rush over to him, and Severus found himself wishing that he could act how he wanted to with this witch. He would have loved to accept her into his arms and kiss her how she deserved to be kissed, but as he looked at her he remembered Draco’s words, and again he wondered who the other wizard might be. He would make it his business to either steer her clear of him, or at least find out. “Greetings to you too, Hermione. May I have a word, please?”
Hermione—who had been gazing at him while he’d been considering her—turned to Harry, “I’ll be back in a mo,” and she came over with a smile still happily attached to her pretty bowlike mouth. “Yes, Severus?” she stated quietly.
“Would after lunch suit you to go to Flintlock?”
“Flintlock?”
“I am part owner of a duelling premises on Maple Lane. I am authorised to book out rooms when I require them. I have booked us my favourite room for one this afternoon.”
She smiled at him. She didn’t seem to be able to stop smiling where this wizard was concerned. “I’ll be waiting,” she told him, and she thought about kissing his cheek, but glanced up at the noise of Draco coming down the stairs and then the moment had passed. She sighed, she so wanted to be nearer to him, and she sincerely hoped that he was as wickedly sexy in real life as he had been in her dream last night.
Of course, thinking this made her blush, and she quickly turned away. She walked back to Harry with her head bowed cursing herself for allowing that thought to surface. She had often wondered why someone like her was so at home on the stage, especially doing the provocative type of dancing that she did, but it was like there was a veil of some kind between her and the audience. They could watch and she could dance, and she did it with a kind of detachment that spoke of a seasoned performer. She sighed as she went back to helping Harry with his essay, and the thought entered her mind that she might not be able to do this if Severus was watching. Then a wicked thought slipped to the forefront of her mind. She could go further than she should if it was only him watching, and this made her blush brighter. So much so in fact that Harry got worried.
“Are you all right? You’re very flushed, ‘Mione,” he told her.
She smiled wistfully and glanced to the now empty space where Severus had been. “Yes, I’m fine,” she murmured, her eyes unfocused.
It didn’t take Harry long to fathom what was happening and he chuckled. “You really have got it bad for him, haven’t you?”
Hermione cleared her throat. “I do not know what you mean, Harry,” she stated.
He laughed louder, even snorting. “Right, pull the other one.”
Hermione sat back down beside him and glared at him before she glanced at his work again. “I’m sure that you want to go fly your broom fairly soon, so let’s get this finished,” she snapped.
“Oww, ‘Mione. You’ve got no sense of humour,” he huffed. He looked down at his work and grabbed the ruler. He measured his parchment. “A quarter of an inch off two feet. I’d say I can go flying right now. Besides, I promised Ollie that I’d help with stocking the bar this arvo,” he said with a grin.
“All right then, go on, bugger off. I’ll see you tonight,” Hermione said snickering. She flopped back in her chair and sighed at he squeezed her shoulder affectionately, and she turned her head to watch as he opened the window and flew out. Laughing, she got up and wandered over to close it after him as she thought about some personal things she wanted to take care of while there was no one around.
While she’d been here at Hogwarts her personal grooming had gotten a little bit out of control. It was coming up to winter, she didn’t currently have a partner to consider, and she wasn’t dancing. However, if she was going to feel confident this afternoon, there was one thing especially that she really wanted to do before she met Severus, and she might as well have a bath at the same time.
She started up the stairs to her room and thought that being alone was also a great time for a good soak, regardless of whether it was the morning or not. It was Sunday for crying out loud, if she couldn’t relax in the safety of her room on Sunday, well it was time to leave.
Starting up the stairs some of the other things that she could do while she was in the bath also slipped into her mind, and a pulse started at the apex of her thighs as she walked. It was also some time since she’d sated that need as well, and she sighed. I can’t wait for Christmas, and being away from here, and she glanced at the clock. Man, it’s only ten. I want time to go quicker.
She warded her bedroom door once she was through it and walking into the bathroom she started the bath.
Chapter 10: The Lasting Results of War
Notes:
Disclaimer:- I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.
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A/N:- Thank you to Golden Asp, for her beta work on this chapter, as well as to all for your comments and kudos, I appreciate them all.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
As much of a nuisance as Draco was sometimes, Severus was very attached to him, and as they entered Narcissa’s room at the sanatorium it made him feel quite guilty that he hadn’t told the boy an important fact. Well, he had tried to tell him after the last time he’d visited Narcissa, but in the end he hadn’t wanted to upset him when he knew that he had so many other obstacles in his way.
However, Draco should know what was happening, and that was why Severus had insisted that he come with him today, but seeing the look on his godson’s face at the moment, he was certain that he should have prepared him better before they’d come.
Draco was very attached to his mother, and her illness had hit him hard. Even though Severus hoped that the frail blonde witch in the bed was actually making a turn for the better, at this precise moment he considered that he would rather be consoling his godson at her graveside than standing here at the mouth of hell listening to the dribble spewing forth from her mouth.
This was the lowest she would get, but the healers were not convinced that she would turn the corner, and this was why Draco had to know what was happening. Narcissa was a strong witch, and Severus was convinced that she could recover well enough to go home and lead a relatively normal life anyway. She would never enjoy full health again, but she might be able to recover enough to be content.
Narcissa had been cursed the same day that Severus had almost died, but it had also been a glorious day, as it had been the last day that Tom Riddle had been alive to torture them. They did not know who had thrown the curse that afflicted Narcissa, but Severus suspected that it had been Riddle himself when he realised that she’d lied to him about Harry Potter’s state of health.
Of course, it made no difference now who had been responsible, but Riddle had been very good at the long slow death. The only other person who had been that twisted was Narcissa’s own sister, but Severus could not believe that Bellatrix—even in her madness—would curse her sister.
As he stood beside Draco, Severus took a deep breath. He could see from the spontaneous bursts of magic arcing out towards the containment shield her caretakers had erected around her before they’d allowed them in to see her that she was losing control of her magic. This was the last stage of the curse, and from this point onward you either died or fought back. Severus knew that because of the potions he had been supplying Narcissa that she was fortified enough to manage the latter, but of course Draco didn’t understand that yet.
He observed his godson standing gravely quiet, and he thought back to near the beginning of the term. He knew that the younger wizard had not been to see his mother since her birthday some months before, and the boy needed to stay informed so that whatever outcome came from this he would know how it came about. However, the night he had resolved to tell Draco, he couldn’t bring himself to upset the young man who meant so much to him. The boy had just started to find his feet again, but looking at him now Severus cursed his lack of tenacity on the issue; he should have prepared Draco for this.
Narcissa then took his attention with a rather louder than usual outburst. “Chicken bones, fire. Gilly weed… hate you, salt,” she cried as an arc of magic shot from her and singed the ceiling.
“Bloody hell,” Draco gasped, his frightened eyes turning to Severus. “I think it may be time for a change of potions,” he whispered. “This is ridiculous.”
Severus cleared his throat delicately. Of course, it was a pity to see, and he glanced at Draco and sighed as he saw tears welling in his godson’s eyes. This was the price of war. “Everything is being done that can be done, Draco,” and he paused before saying, “This is why I wished you to see her today, so you understand that. You have seen the picture for yourself now.” He watched Draco glance uselessly around at things as he tried to rein in his emotions, and he added, “I am still convinced that there is a hope she will improve.”
“Improve… Hope?” Draco repeated disbelievingly. “She’s going to die, isn’t she?” he said quietly.
“The curse is at its worst, but that doesn’t mean that hope is lost.”
Draco snorted weakly. “She’s become so gaunt and vacant looking. Isn’t there something else that can be done for it?”
“As I said, everything that can be done is being done. My potions have brought her this far, and they will continue to sustain her.”
“You’ll pardon me if I don’t believe you,” Draco snapped, anger replacing pain.
“We can speak with her healer, he will tell you the same,” Severus replied calmly.
“Yes,” the younger wizard replied, “but I will not believe him either.”
“Please yourself,” Severus murmured. The Potions Master had never been good at dealing with non-logical behaviour, it wasn’t something he’d ever learned. If Lucius was here, he’d know what to say, he thought, and then sighed. He wished Lucius was here, then perhaps Narcissa might improve quicker; he had often heard her calling for her husband amongst her ramblings.
Theirs was a complicated marriage. Neither party was faithful to the other, but Lucius had always cared for his family fiercely, and he would be here beside her if he wasn’t currently being made an example of for stupid people who knew nothing.
“I want to get out of here,” Draco announced suddenly, and started walking towards the door.
~~~***~~~
As they walked Draco seemed to be in deep thought. “How would things have been different if you’d been here when it happened? You would have recognised the embedded curse, surely,” he stated finally.
“Perhaps, but I had to cure myself before I could cure anyone else, and that took time.” Apparently too much time, Severus thought as they walked down the hallway and past the nurse’s station.
They continued to walk, and soon Draco sighed as anger suddenly reared up again. “Why couldn’t I have normal parents?”
They were moving quickly because of Draco’s anger, and they were almost down the drive of the convalescent home now. Severus stopped and looked at his godson. “Draco, your parents had no choice, they were caught in a very rigid marriage system. Their part in things was forced while they were children by their own fathers and Tom Riddle. I think they did well surviving as well as they did under the circumstances.”
Draco sneered, he knew all of this, and it was why he’d fought his own mindless betrothal. “You know, that’s one of the reasons I fought against Astoria so fiercely. I mean I could have made it work, she’s a good looking witch, but I want to choose for myself. I don’t want to end up like my parents.”
“You can choose for yourself now,” Severus reminded him.
He sighed. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry, Severus. Perhaps I shouldn’t have come.”
“No, I wanted you to recognise the stages that your mother is going through so that, Merlin willing, she will look better to you by Christmas.”
“Oh,” Draco gasped. “But it’s been almost two years,” Draco sighed.
“Yes, the Insania Interiorem is a brutal and long-lived curse, but I believe—and her healers agree—that this may be the turning point, if she’s going to survive this she will start to improve from here.”
Draco sighed, and he seemed to shake himself. “I think I’d like some time to myself. I’ll come back for our meeting tonight, but right now it’s Sunday, and I do not have to be at fucking Hogwarts.”
“Very well, it might do you some good.” Severus agreed, and he did not think much more of it as he watched Draco apparate away for some free time and he wished that he could do the same. However, the safety of a certain Gryffindor witch was weighing heavily on his mind, and he wanted to make sure that she was kept safe. It angered him that threats were being made against her, and once he was free to do so, he was going to make certain that everyone knew that if they hurt Hermione Granger they would be answering to him, but at present that was not an option.
He sighed before apparating away himself, landing straight back into his sitting room at Hogwarts. He glanced at the clock, and wondered if the morning could manage to pass quicker; it was only eleven thirty.
Sitting down in his favourite chair he pulled his cigarette case from his jacket and reclined back as he lit one. Since when did he worry about the speed with which time went by? He took a drag of his smoke and cleared his mind, focusing into the wards around him. It was amazing what Hogwarts could tell you if you had the ability to listen.
His mental investigations told him that the witch whose welfare he was concerned with was the only occupant of the quarters across from his at present. It appears that Potter is gone, he thought. I wonder what she’s doing? He blew out a plume of smoke as his mind provided him with several things that she could be doing while she was alone, and a sly smile spread over his mouth. “Would that I could see,” he murmured, resting his head back against the back of the chair.
He had no qualms about imagining what Hermione—as an adult—might be doing in the privacy of her room. It was not like she was a student under his care… yes, he cared for her, but she was not a dependant. However, it was as he was considering this that a troubling thought accosted his mind and it had him forgetting the picture his mind had created, and scrubbing his hands over his face after vanishing his cigarette. “You idiot!” he growled to himself. “You’ve just shown Draco hell and you’ve allowed him to go off by himself? You fucking fool!”
He was on his feet pacing. “Where would he go?” he questioned. “Bloody hell. Lucius will never forgive me if something happens to him. Shit! What can I do?”
Then his mind unexpectedly turned to Hermione, and he knew that he should seek the support of the compassionate little witch; she would know what to do. “She knows how to comfort people,” he muttered, and started walking faster. “But where would Draco go? Shit! Shit, shit… Shit!”
Suddenly he abandoned his pacing and was striding for the door. “The manor,” he decided, as he walked from his sitting room. “That’s where he’d go… Hermione?” he called, coming into the sitting room next door. “Hermione!”
Hermione had just been dressing after her bath. She had a towel wrapped around her hair, and was only wearing her underwear and a long sleeved tee as she sat on her bed and painted her toe-nails. She was shocked to hear Severus calling her, and there was such urgency in his voice. She grabbed her dressing gown and pulling it on she opened the door. “What’s wrong?” she asked in a panicked voice.
Severus looked up at her, and started up the stairs. “I think I’ve just made a grave error. Will you come with me, please?”
“Umm… Yes, of course. Why? What’s happened?” she asked.
Severus was too busy taking in all the bare skin visible through her half on robe, but he quickly looked back to her eyes. “It’s Draco. May I explain on the way? You’ll need to put some clothes on,” he added, gesturing with his hand.
“Oh! Oh yes,” and she threw the robe away and grabbed the jeans she had on the bed without worrying about Severus being there. “Start explaining now,” she said.
It was quite correct to say that Severus’ mind was fairly useless right now, as his eyes greedily took in the view from the back of Hermione, as her high-cut lace knickers showed him the perfect creamy globes of her backside. He watched with rapt attention for some moments, but then cleared his throat and started to explain. “Oh… Right. Draco and I went to visit Narcissa this morning, she’s gravely ill in a private sanatorium. She will get better…” he told her, his eyes still eagerly roving her curves as she pulled her jeans on and found shoes and a coat.
Hermione listened but had felt his eyes on her and she knew that what she had planned for later would be welcomed. “Yes?” she said in encouragement to continue.
“I was determined that he see what is happening, I felt that he’d been avoiding the reality of things.” He watched her winding her half dry curls up into a loose bun. “However, Narcissa was having a bad day today,” he continued, “and Draco was very shocked. I thought he’d be all right, and I allowed him to go off by himself, he seemed calm about things, but as soon as I returned here I became uncertain that I’d impressed on him strongly enough that all hope is not lost. I shouldn’t have…”
“And now you’re worried that he’s going to do something stupid?” Hermione finished for him.
“Yes,” Severus said, but then an ‘oof’ noise escaped him as she launched herself into his arms.
“Then take us to where you think he might be,” she said, gazing up at him earnestly.
~~~***~~~
Draco had apparated to Malfoy Manor. It was all boarded up now, and he very rarely came here. He lived—when he wasn’t trying to finish his schooling—in a luxury townhouse in Kensington, but today he just needed the sights and smells of his mother.
He ran up the darkened stairs and into his mother’s domain, and he breathed deeply. Yes, there it was that smell. The lingering perfume of his mother, and her things… All her things were just as she’d left them, and he closed his eyes against the pain that consumed him at what the war had cost them.
He stood there breathing deeply, trying to find comfort in the lingering scent of an absent mother. A mother who—after almost two years—was still fighting for her life. Then he spared a thought for his father, fully cognisant and locked up in a worse than bleak place. Lucius had learned his lesson long before he’d started paying for crimes that must now live in his memory as heinous deeds against innocents.
Neither of his parents were bad people, but they’d had coercive magic used on them, been twisted and warped by a manipulative bastard—especially his father—and it had cost them everything.
Draco wiped at the tears trickling over his cheeks but then his eyes took in the scorch-marks on the walls near the curtains. The ones that had signalled the beginning of his mother’s current suffering and he sank to his knees, crumbling under the weight of it all.
His mind went back to the panicked Floo-call he’d made to summon Severus some weeks after the battle, informing him that his mother had gone made and was trying to burn the house down.
A sob broke from his throat, and he curled up with his arms laced over his head. “I’ve lost everything,” he cried. “What am I without my family?”
He lay there crying, sobbing for the hole in his heart at what his family was going through, and his crying was what Hermione and Severus heard as they arrived at the open front door.
Hermione hadn’t really had time to take in her surroundings. To start with she was overcome by her closeness of Severus, as well as the realisation that she’d been correct about him; he really did still have all the powers of the headmaster, and somewhere inside she metaphorically punched the air.
However, as soon as she entered the same entrance way that she’d been dragged into that awful day near the end of the war, she stopped dead. Anything good she’d been feeling instantly disappeared as a gut churning horror invaded every fibre of her being. “No!” she gasped. “Not here.”
Severus knew what had happened to her here, and it was one of the things he’d most hated about his role in the war. He’d been unable to help her, and he’d often wondered what he might have done that day if he’d been present. He was very thankful that he had not been, because even then he’d had a healthy respect for the witch. Nothing like he felt for her now, but he suspects that he might have been tempted to throw caution to the wind that day had he been there.
Of course, that did not help the situation now, nor did it make him feel any better about bringing her here. He turned to her. “I know you are stronger than this, Hermione,” he told her, hearing her cry of distress.
“This is my worst nightmare place,” she whispered, swallowing around the lump building in her throat. She swallowed again, and turned frightened eyes to him. “The things she did to me…” and her lip quivered.
Severus took her securely by the upper arms. “You are safe now, love,” he told her. “I know what happened to you, and I am so sorry I was not there to help you,” and he pulled her against him, resting his head on top of hers as he hugged her. “She paid for it. I made certain of that,” he whispered into her freshly washed, sweet-smelling hair.
“I wanted to kill her for what she did,” Hermione replied. “I’ve never felt that much hate.”
He pulled her back to arm’s length. “Do you still feel it?” he asked, concerned for her.
He watched her wipe her eyes and shake her head. “Can we talk about it more once we have Draco safe?” he asked.
“I’d like that,” Hermione said, and took his cheeks in her hands. “That’s not all I want to talk about,” she told him resolutely. “Many things happened at the end of the war that still bother and confuse me.”
“Then you will have my undivided attention,” but then he grimaced. “I’m sorry, Hermione,” and his eyes glanced up the stairs.
Hermione nodded. “I know,” she murmured, turning that way to, and she bravely took a step back from him. “Okay,” and she wiped her tears away resolutely and squared her shoulders. “I can do this,” she stated determinedly, as the thought flitted through her mind that she was in her worst nightmare place and she was not having a panic attack. So what was it that was causing her panic attacks?
She sighed. She could work that out later, but just for good measure she took another deep breath. “Lead the way,” she said to Severus, holding out her hand and looking towards the sounds of Draco’s misery.
She really was surprised when Severus accepted her hand and started leading her toward where he thought Draco would be. He was still mentally berating himself for allowing Draco to go off by himself. Yes, he was an adult, but Severus knew that he was only just managing the separation from his family.
Then he considered the new intimacy he’d just achieved with Hermione, and he was pleased he’d brought her with him, but he was equally annoyed that he hadn’t thought of what had happened to her under this roof. That bloody bitch, he thought. I hope she’s rotting in hell for what she inflicted on my witch.
Severus was still thinking as they arrived in the doorway of a pleasantly decorated parlour, and they saw Draco curled up on the floor.
“Draco!” Hermione called, running into the room and falling to her knees beside him. “We’re here for you, love. Your mother will get better,” she told him, rubbing his back.
Draco blinked and a snarl left his lips. “You can’t know that,” he growled, angry and embarrassed that Severus had brought Hermione here. He got up and turned away, but then stopped as he thought about what he’d been thinking. No, he didn’t have any of his family, but Severus had cared enough to come looking for him. He turned back around and look at them. Perhaps it was not quite the same as having his real family, but Severus and now this little Gryffindor witch were his surrogate family.
“Draco,” Hermione said softly, reaching out and placing her hand on his arm. “Don’t be like that, we care about you.”
Yes, they were good to have regardless, and he allowed his new closest friend to pull him into a hug and he cried on her shoulder.
Severus watched the interaction of the pair and he was pleased that they responded to one another like this. He’d been hoping that they’d build a bond. They were the two—well, perhaps apart from Potter—who’d been damaged the most by the war, and the three of them needed each other. He watched as he thought, and eventually he walked to the drinks cabinet and poured Draco some brandy.
“Here, drink this,” he encouraged, catching Draco’s eye. “I’m sorry, Draco. I should have encouraged you back to Hogwarts with me,” Severus told him.
Draco took a deep breath, and after some moments he said, “I guess I’ve been in denial. Do you really think Mother will improve?” he added in a whisper.
“She’s a strong witch, and she’s had every possible thing done for her that could allow her to improve,” Severus stated. “And I believe she will.”
“I wish Father was here,” Draco said, walking to the drinks cabinet himself for another drink, as he wiped his face.
“You know that it’s not that simple. Yes, he may be able to stabilise her, but theirs is not a stable marriage bond, in a lot of ways they’re toxic to one another.”
“But they used to be happy,” Draco insisted.
“Maybe that’s only because you were looking at it from a child’s perspective,” Severus offered.
Draco sighed and downed his second drink. “Maybe,” he conceded.
Hermione listened to all of this as she came to stand very close to Severus. To her surprise he placed an arm around her waist.
Draco watched this, and said, “I’m going to disappear and clean up a bit before we return,” and he placed his glass down on the cabinet. Hopefully if he left them alone for long enough they might work out some kind of commitment to one another.
They watched Draco leaving and Severus turned Hermione. “Are you all right now, my dear?” he asked.
“Surprisingly yes,” she replied. “I am all right,” and she turned within his arm. “Which leads me to wonder about my panic attacks.”
Severus raised an eyebrow. “Indeed,” he intoned. “If you were going to be under stress, right this very moment should be the most stressful.”
“Very true,” she agreed.
“This warrants further investigation,” but then he sighed. “Hermione, my dear girl,” and he caressed a hand over her cheek. He saw Hermione smile, but he only said, “Thank you,” and he stepped away as they heard Draco coming back.
Disappointment stabbed through her, but it eased somewhat when he picked up her hand, and squeezing it gently, before he said, “We had best get you both back to Hogwarts. Come, Draco.” Severus’ other hand grasped Draco’s arm as his grip pulled Hermione closer and they disapparated.
As they landed, Hermione found herself tightly pulled to Severus by one arm, with her hands flat on the solid plane of his chest, and a knowing smile arrived on her face, and she remembered what she’d been thinking before she’d realised where she was, and she all but crowed. “You know, I knew it!”
“Knew what?” he asked, an eyebrow raised imperiously.
“The castle still recognises you as the headmaster,” she announced.
“Always the know-it-all, my dear,” he said to her evenly, tightening his arm around her.
She smiled broadly. “Always, Severus,” she told him.
The corner of his mouth ticked up, and he glanced at Draco who then said, “Well, I believe a shower might do me good,” and he disappeared upstairs.
“Will my assistant give me away?” he murmured.
“Never,” Hermione declared, and she bravely threaded her hand up around his neck and started bringing his head down for a kiss.
A sly smile ticked at the corner of his mouth, but he pulled away. “I believe you have a dance rehearsal to think about.”
Hermione gave him an impish smile, but thought, a dance tease rehearsal more likely. However, she’d only just opened her mouth to ask if he’d meet her here and they heard a heavy pounding on the outer office door and Violet arrived in her inner portrait.
“Headmaster, Mister Zabini wishes entrance. He told me it was urgent.”
“Very well, Violet,” and Severus turned to Hermione. “All going to plan, I will be back to collect you at one,” he told her.
Hermione’s spirits sank with this announcement, but she gave him an encouraging smile. “Thank you, Severus,” and she turned towards her room.
Notes:
I know, I hear you all groaning. I'm sorry about the cliff-hanger, but I wanted a whole chapter for the next bit. xox :-)
Chapter 11: Frustration
Notes:
Disclaimer:- I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.
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A/N:- I normally alternate between posting on all my stories, but I’m posting again on Maple Lane to overcome the cliff-hanger I left you all with last time. Thank you all for your comments and kudos for the last chapter, I appreciate them all. Thank you also to, Golden Asp, for betaing this chapter.
Chapter Text
Can nothing be without complications? Severus wondered irritably as he strode out into the office. He was happy that Hermione had taken the hint and gone to her room. He knew that he had no right to tell her not to follow him, but anything urgent these days seemed to be trouble. He opened the office door and saw Blaise Zabini glancing worriedly over his shoulder.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, sir,” the dark-skinned Slytherin stated, his eyes returning to Severus as he heard the door open. “But they’ve fed Greg a lust potion and I think they may have cast the Imperius curse on him…” and raising his wand he cancelled the disillusionment charm on the levitated Slytherin who was bobbing lazily in the air behind him. “I think they wanted him to… play for their entertainment,” he finished with significant look.
Severus nodded his understanding and looked at the stiffly rigid form of Greg Goyle. “You best both come in,” Severus said, taking in Zabini glancing down the corridor once more. Severus closed the door as he evaluated the situation. He noticed that even under the petrification spell Goyle was flushed and his eyes were very restless, but Severus could not see any haze of the Imperius Curse in them, and he thought he had best inform the young man’s saviour of that. “I doubt an Unforgiveable would have been necessary, Mister Zabini, the potion alone would have made it impossible for him to resist their plan.”
Blaise nodded. “That is true, perhaps that is all it is, but he seemed very intent,” he agreed.
“Was anyone … injured as a result?” Severus asked carefully. Severus knew exactly how much Greg Goyle had been through to get where he was today, and the last thing he needed was any allegations of rape against him.
“No,” Blaise said, “I managed to get him out of the common room—using a confundus spell against Nott and Bulstrude—but I did not know how long it would take them to realise what had happened, that’s why I was a little jumpy about being in the hallway.”
Severus breathed a sigh of relief. “I see, so only those two were involved?”
“I can’t say for certain,” Blaise informed him. “I should think that Greengrass was not far behind either, but it was definitely Nott who gave him the laced Firewhiskey.”
Severus could see that the young man had all the tell-tale signs of being under a lust potion, but he had to ask. “And you know for certain that it is a lust potion?”
“Yes, sir. I had been coming into the common room from our dormitory, when I heard them taunting him. I stopped and listened before they saw me, and I plainly heard Bulstrode say, ‘Oh look, he’s got an incredible boner, who knew. I want that one for myself’. Then Nott told her, ‘we didn’t give him the lust brew just for you to get off, we have bigger bitches to deal with.”
“Do you know who they meant?” Severus asked.
“No, sir, no idea, but I suppose it would have to be a Slytherin because Greg would not have made it too far in the condition he was in, would he?”
“Very true. Then this needs to be dealt with as quickly as possible,” Severus stated, then added, “Stay here with Mister Goyle. I will return momentarily.” He turned towards the sitting room on the left and for the second time that day he sought Hermione. He was glad that he had a task for her that would keep her out of things, and as he glanced through the door, he saw Hermione working on something at the table. “Are you able to brew the Cupid’s Blessing Draught?” he asked, a slight grimace of distaste on his face at the name.
If she thought his question strange she never said; she just smiled, aware of how much it must have pained him to say that particular potion’s name. It was a stupid name for a potion, but she just said, “I have researched it for my project, and I have the recipe in my notes. Why?”
“Would you be good enough to test your research then? A cure is needed for a lust potion. Get Draco to brew...” but then he seemed to think better of finishing that sentence. “Never mind I’ll speak with him as the pair of you move through the office.”
“Oh, okay,” she said uncertainly, and she hurried from their sitting room and up to her room to fetch her notes, and then to knock on Draco’s door. He opened it, and she said, “Severus wants to speak with you in the outer office.”
“What’s happened now?” Draco said, growing panic on his face.
“I don’t know the details, but Severus asked me to brew the cure for a lust potion, and he started to tell me what he wanted you to do but then said not to worry he’d talk to you as we went through the office.”
“Oh… Oh, yes,” he said nodding, and grabbing his outer robes he shut the door to follow Hermione. He knew what Severus wanted him to brew, and he chuckled to himself that the man had been too much of a gentleman to tell Hermione that he needed a potion to make the male organ relax.
Draco had only ever seen someone under the effects of a lust potion once, and Severus had brewed the cure that time, but the problem was that the cure calmed everything except the erectile problem, and he’d since read that it could take days for it to deflate normally without a prolonged screw to solve the problem. However, he did not say anything, he simply followed Hermione.
When they arrived in their little office and Draco saw who had been affected as well as Blaise’s stoic but warning eyes he was shocked. Poor Greg, he thought as a gasp escaped him. He really can’t cut a break.
The office was getting very crowded, as it now also contained Minerva McGonagall and Aurora Sinistra, and McGonagall attempted to stop Hermione and Draco as they came through the door. “Go out another time, Mister Malfoy, Miss Granger,” she said in an irritated voice. “We are dealing with something very serious here.”
“They are on an errand for me,” Severus stated, an expression of irritation flitting quickly across his face at her attitude. “A cure needs to be brewed for Mister Goyle,” and he gave Draco a significant look, but before Draco could say that he understood, Minerva cut in.
“Then Professor Ross should be asked to do that,” she stated irritably.
“I actually want the cure to work, Minerva,” Severus said, a sneer arriving on his face while his voice brokered no argument.
Minerva’s eyes narrowed. “So you’re asking students to brew it?” she spat, like he should have known that was a stupid plan.
“I have every confidence in the abilities of Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy,” Severus informed her imperiously.
McGonagall glanced at the still restrained Goyle, obviously thinking, then she snapped irritably, “Well, they best get to work then,” and her narrowed eyes returned to the two young adults.
Anger flooded Hermione; she had just about had enough of Minerva McGonagall. What had changed since this witch had been Hermione’s head of house? Why was she still treating them as children? Hermione had credited her with more intelligence than that, but so far this year she’d proven herself to be a weak leader in a crucial time.
As she thought this Hermione forced her eyes not to look at Severus as she and Draco walked from the room. There was no point in giving the headmistress more fuel for her insecurities. She was also upset because she just knew that this new crisis meant that Severus wasn’t going to be able to take her to her rehearsal, and she knew that she should not have been worrying about that, but she had been so looking forward to spending time alone with him.
Hermione sighed as they moved the short distance to the Potions classroom and opened the door. They were included in the wards because they had the privilege of being in Severus’ class, and they simply walked in and quietly started setting up at their respective desks to brew the cure.
~~~***~~~
Back in the office after Hermione and Draco had left, Minerva started to give Blaise the third degree about the incident.
“So, you’re telling me that you apprehended Mister Goyle after other students had given him a lust potion?” and she cast dubious eyes on him.
“I did not apprehend him, Ma’am. I saw what happened and I intervened, and then brought him up here where I knew a cure could be arranged.”
Minerva’s anger was sharp her next words, her niece should have been given the opportunity to furnish the cure. “The infirmary is the correct place for the curing of magical mishaps,” she stated tersely. “How do we know that you did not do this?” she asked.
“Well, you don’t,” Blaise managed to splutter, incredulous that he was being blamed for this, let alone that he should not have brought his friend somewhere he trusted. “And I’m not certain that Greg will be any help. It’s likely that he won’t remember, but I didn’t do it,” Blaise said, glancing at Severus for support.
Professor Sinistra sniffed. “Minerva, really. This is ridiculous. Mister Zabini is a model student,” she said. “How could you think he is responsible? You know that out of the eighth-year Slytherins this group is the least of our worries. Some of the others…” and she left that sentence open.
“Yes, I must agree with Aurora, you are being most unreasonable,” Severus stated, a raven brow rising as he said it. He was starting to wonder why she was being so unfair about things. It was one thing to be contemptuous of a house when you were the leader of another house, but now that she was the headmistress she should be being impartial to all houses.
“I can’t see why you’re all making such a fuss over a silly prank,” Minerva said, failing to hide her contempt.
Blaise’s dark skin flushed with anger, and he stated in a voice full of disdain, “I do not appreciate your inference, Ma’am. The people who perpetrated this obviously had…” he started indignantly, but stopped when Severus cleared his throat.
“You do not need to concern yourself, Mister Zabini,” Severus told him, then he turned to McGonagall, his eyes narrowing. “Minerva, I cannot even begin to fathom your thought processes on this issue,” he told her as he thought, or many of the other things I’ve seem you take umbrage about recently, and he glanced at Aurora Sinistra as she agreed with him.
There’s something very wrong here, Severus considered to himself, but he said, “Now, since none of this can be solved definitively before Mister Goyle is cured,” and without giving the scowling Minerva a chance to answer he went on. “I propose that perhaps the process of collecting evidence and those accused of the so-called prank should be the first thing done. Mister Zabini, would you be kind enough to stay with Mister Goyle until he is cured?”
“Yes, sir,” Blaise replied, levelling narrowed eyes at the headmistress as he thought, surely this is a farce. I will not be blamed for things I have not done. If Greg leaves after this—and he’s likely to—I’m not staying either. This is a complete waste of my time. I don’t need it.
Severus nodded his approval, and turned his attention to Aurora. “Would you like me to accompany you to collect Miss Bulstrode and Mister Nott and escort them to the headmistress’ office?” he asked, knowing that getting the belligerent young adults to do anything was going to be difficult, and that his fierce reputation would help the matter.
However, before Aurora had a chance to answer, Minerva cut in. “I will collect the two concerned,” she stated unequivocally. “You wait here, Severus!” she demanded. “You are not a head. Professor Sinistra will accompany me.”
Severus raised an eyebrow, but conceded. Actually, here was exactly where he wanted to be, as it meant that he could still get Hermione to her rehearsal if she wished to go. He could send her with Draco and Blaise, but of course, that was like sending the spiders out to mind the fly, and he quickly backtracked his thoughts on that idea. Before he could claim Hermione as his, he was not tempting two red-blooded sons of Slytherin with his witch, especially while she was dancing provocatively in front of them.
As he watched Minerva leaving, and his thoughts turned to her. Yes, there definitely is something strange going on here, he thought. He would watch the situation, and he turned and levitated Greg Goyle into the sitting room, laying his ever-restless form on the lounge. “Draco and Hermione should be finished the potions very soon, I’ll go and check on their progress,” Severus said, turning towards the door again.
He left, walking to his Potions classroom deep in thought. Certainly he still had control over the castle, but part of that was that Hogwarts was allowing him control. This meant that it had not wholeheartedly accepted Minerva McGonagall as its head, when in reality, she was next in line for the headship. The school had accepted him as the best person to lead through the crisis of war, but he had fully expected not to have privileges he currently enjoyed now he was back.
He was still thinking as he entered the Potions classroom, and saw that indeed his two brewers were both almost finished their task. He looked into Hermione’s cauldron and saw the gaudy hot pink colour distinctive to this restorative potion, and he nodded, his lips ticking up as he acknowledged her achievement.
She smiled at him, understanding his gesture as an indication that he was pleased with her work.
However, Severus saw her cast several quizzical glances at Draco’s project while he was inspecting her work, apparently his godson had not informed her of its purpose either, and he could see her mind working on the information she’d gathered, trying to form an opinion and he wanted to laugh. She certainly did not like not knowing things.
Draco was currently placing the ointment he’d brewed into a small glass jar. “Here you are, Severus. The balm is finished,” he said, handing the jar to Severus.
“Yes,” Hermione added, setting up to measure a dose. “Would you care to estimate how much Greg will require?” she asked, glancing at Severus.
“I would estimate that a dose for a person of one hundred and twenty kilos should suffice,” and with pleasure he watched Hermione pick up her quill and start working out the dose.
Severus knew he was a lost cause where this witch was concerned when a warm fuzziness settled in his chest as she came up with the same answer he had already settled on in his head. He nodded in response and watched her fill the phial to the correct amount. Her warm whisky-coloured eyes sparkling with happiness at a task well done as she handed him the mixture.
They started walking back to the office, and as soon as they were behind the office door, Severus handed the phial of cure and the jar to Draco, and said, “You had best tend to your friend with Mister Zabini, Draco. I will be there momentarily.”
At the same time as he said it his other hand came out to halt Hermione’s progress. He watched Draco purse his lips and then walk into the sitting room without comment.
“I am sorry, Hermione, but I will need to make certain that Mister Goyle is represented correctly here,” he told her gently. “Could we postpone our trip to Flintlock?”
Hermione swallowed her disappointment. “Yes, of course, you will be required here,” she said, her eyes gazing up at his.
His traitorous hand started the journey up to stroke her cheek. The look she was giving him was so filled with need and want that the intensity of it almost burned him. He managed to abort the almost unconscious movement of his hand, and he said, “Would you know where Mister Potter is? Perhaps he could keep you company while I deal with things here, and I will see you at the meeting tonight.”
Hermione’s lip slipped between the teeth. “Harry went to his bar to help Oliver with restocking,” she answered.
“Do you think he would mind if I delivered you there?” He watched her face falter, and he added, “Perhaps there is a space there where you could rehearse this afternoon.”
“Perhaps,” she said absently, but then jerked a nod. “If it will make things easier for you I will go to Harry.”
“No, my witch. I will escort you to Harry before I must deal with the situation here.” Severus wanted to say more to her, but he knew that under the circumstances he shouldn’t, even as he realised that his mouth had run away with him. Where was his legendary control? This lovely little witch was totally obliterating it; that was the answer to that question. “Where is this bar?” he asked as his arms curled around her to apparate her away.
“The former Hogshead,” she answered, instantly nestling into him. Oh, how I want him, she thought as being against him again made her legs weak. Then they were travelling, and they arrived at the Hogshead in a moment.
He stepped away from her and she felt cold. She swallowed. “Thank you,” she whispered, and she watched the corner of his lip tilt up slightly.
“I’m assuming you’ll be coming back by broom?” he questioned.
Hermione nodded. “Yes, that is how Harry left.”
“Then I will add Mister Potter’s signature to my wards so he may return you straight to our tower.”
She wanted to be back in his arms, but she knew that was not possible. “Thank you,” she said, and turned away, raising her hand to knock, thinking that the door would be locked. However, she was surprised when an image of Harry appeared and said, “Welcome to The Hogshead,” and the door opened. She glanced back to where Severus was and just caught the end of his disapparition. Swallowing again she walked in and saw Harry carrying a crate of Butterbeers around to the bar. “’Mione,” he said, smiling, but he saw her sad expression and asked, “What’s happened now?” as he placed the crate on the bar.
“Umm, Severus has asked me to stay here with you until you return. There’s been another attack, but this time Greg Goyle’s been laced with a lust potion.”
“What for?” Harry asked, sitting at the bar and patting the stool next to him.
She came and sat down, but shrugged. “I don’t know, but the up-shot of it is that Severus can’t take me to Flintlock this afternoon, and he wondered if you might have a place for me to practice here,” and she sighed, slumping forward onto the bar to rest her face in her hands. “Only, I’m not certain that I want to practice anymore,” she said.
“Cheer up, love,” Harry said suggestively. “You’ll have all Christmas to live out your Snape fantasies.”
“Excuse me, but they’re not fantasies, Harry. They’re real desires,” she told him haughtily.
He chuckled and grinned cheekily at her. “It’s the real reason you came back, isn’t it?”
She blushed, but nodded. “It’s one of them,” but her lip slipped between her teeth. “But sometimes I still feel so very guilty for lusting after him,” she admitted quietly.
“I know, and I’ve told you hundreds of times that there has to be a logical explanation for that day. You were going to help him, we both were. He did something to stop us, it has to have been him, because Ron was already out of the room, and he’s not powerful enough to cast that kind of magic. Snape was the only other person there.”
Hermione inhaled slowly. “Yes, I know, your explanation make perfect sense, but how?”
Harry shrugged. “He’s a Potions Master, and a right sneaky bugger. Look what he’s achieved,” Harry cackled, and he moved his hand to rest over hers. “And he survived. He must have done something.”
“Yes, you’re right. I’m being silly,” but their conversation was interrupted by Oliver coming in the door from the back.
“Hey, Harry, we’ve still got seven cases… Oh, hello, Hermione,” he said, changing tack as soon as he saw Hermione.
“Yes, we’ve got a visitor,” Harry told Oliver as he walked towards them, and grabbing a stool he went around the bar to sit on the opposite side.
“I can see that,” Oliver replied, smiling. “Oh, and I forgot to tell you. Your new furniture arrived earlier.”
This announcement had Hermione looking around. “It all looks like it did yesterday to me.”
Harry laughed. “It’s the next stage of renovations,” he said. “Before you offered me the lounge in your common room, I’d started refitting Aberforth’s old digs so I can live here and just attend lessons.”
“Will they let you do that?” Hermione asked, blinking.
“Don’t give a flying fuck whether they will or they won’t,” Harry said, scowling. “McGonagall said at the beginning of term that we could come and go as we liked as long as we attended our lessons and did our work.”
Hermione inhaled. “Things are pretty desperate, aren’t they?” she said, smiling at his defiance.
Harry nodded. “Yes, and I do wonder if it’s all really worth it? I mean… we both wondered if it was worth coming back to Hogwarts when there are so many other ways we could have gone.”
“True, and I am starting to feel a fool for putting my education off like I have,” Hermione agreed.
“Well, it’s not too late to change your minds, most universities have a pathways program,” Oliver put in. “I mean, Harry’s told me that’s what you’re considering.”
“Yes, that’s what we did consider,” Hermione replied. “But, Severus has asked me to be his assistant, and if things do not improve I might just see where that takes me before I consider anything else.”
“Assistant?” Harry laughed. “Since when?”
Hermione smiled. “Since I haven’t had a chance to speak to you since yesterday.”
“Wow,” Harry said whistling. “That’s quite some achievement, so you think it might lead to an apprenticeship?”
“Something like that maybe. Let’s just see…” and she paused, suddenly remembering about going to Malfoy Manor and having no panic attack, but she didn’t feel comfortable talking about that with Oliver there, besides, that would reveal lots of information that wasn’t hers to tell, so she changed the subject. “Why didn’t you just go back to Grimmauld Place? You know, instead of renovating here.”
“Here’s easier. I can fly back and forth,” Harry replied, getting up and walking around the bar.
She nodded. “Yes, I guess so, you don’t need the Floo or anything,” she said, watching Harry squeezing past Oliver to get around him, and she saw them smile at one another, and she smiled watching their intimate little gestures to one another. Well, I never thought of them as a likely pair, she considered to herself. Actually, they suit one another, she pondered further, and that could be another reason why Harry decided to have accommodation here… and he calls Severus sneaky, and she pulled the bowl of peanuts on the bar that Oliver had filled just after he’d sat down towards herself and started munching as she watched.
Oliver and Harry stood talking quietly, but they were only discussing business, and soon Hermione became restless and got up and started wandering around. She kept glancing back at them. She saw just how interested Harry was, but he was also holding back, and she wondered why. Mind you, Ollie might already have a partner, she considered as she came across a jukebox in the corner, and that took her attention as she starting fiddling with that.
Soon Harry approached her. “Feel like walking back to Hogwarts?” he said.
“Sure, at least that will be some kind of workout,” she laughed. “Are you ready to go now?”
He smiled. “Yeah, I’m ready. We’re all set up here for lunch.”
“When do you open for lunch?”
“Soon,” he replied, and as they left, they passed the chef coming in to start. “Hi, Norm,” Harry said.
“Harry,” the elderly wizard said, eyeing Hermione and nodding. “Ma’am,” he said politely.
“Hello,” Hermione smiled as they kept going.
The two best friends started walking in the brisk wind that was starting to whip up, and Hermione pulled her coat tighter around herself. “How about we apparate to the gates and just walk up the drive?”
Harry cackled. “Yeah, it’s colder out here now, well, I guess Christmas is approaching quickly, isn’t it?”
“Sure is,” Hermione said, smiling. She loved Christmas, and this year she was spending it with Severus.
Chapter 12: Tango
Notes:
Disclaimer:- I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.
~~~***~~~
A/N:- Thank you all for your comments and kudos for the last chapter, I appreciate them all. Thank you also to, Golden Asp, for her beta work on this chapter.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
That evening Harry flew out his dorm window in Gryffindor Tower to go and pick Hermione up for their meeting. He was not dumb enough to think that Snape would not have the tower that contained himself, Hermione and Draco warded as tightly as a drum, so he circled the castle and landed off to the side of the front doors. Because they’d walked back this afternoon, Hermione had forgotten to mention anything about wards to him.
As he flew to the hidden landing spot he knew of, it suddenly struck him that Snape had willingly accepted a Gryffindor into what was essentially Slytherin territory, and he wondered why. He would have known about Hermione being made a student welfare person beforehand, therefore he must have approved it, because they’d all been witness to what happened when you pushed Severus Snape into a position he wasn’t happy with.
Harry landed in the hidden courtyard he’d pinpointed as his landing spot. This particular courtyard contained a small fountain, the centre piece of which was a spitting fish. Now, Harry was not certain if it had always been like that, or if Fred and George had modified the brass fish while they’d been students here, but people avoided this courtyard because of it. The fish had remarkable aim, and Harry cast an impervious on himself as he landed.
The fish showered him with water, but he remained dry thanks to his spell, and he chuckled at it. “Better luck next time,” he called as he walked out of the confines of the yard and around to the huge front doors of the castle while he shrank his broom again.
Of course, his fantastic plan to avoid being seen leaving Gryffindor Tower came crashing down a second later when he was about to mount the staircase and he saw Ginny and her mates coming down.
“Where are you going?” she demanded, her hands on her hips. “I thought I saw you go up to your dorm, and I didn’t see you leave again.”
Harry stopped, and his eyes narrowed. “What, stalking me now, are you?” Harry knew it was the wrong thing to say, but everywhere he went lately, there she seemed to be.
Her lip turned up into a sneer. “Oh, so mature,” she said.
He could have thrown that one back at her, but he didn’t, especially when he saw her friends all glaring at him as well. “I’m just about over all the shit you’re giving me. We tried a relationship in fifth year, and it didn’t work.”
“It worked from my point of view,” she replied angrily.
“Oh well,” Harry replied sarcastically, but then he sighed. It would do no good to provoke her “Look, if you actually want to discuss this with me rationally, I’m happy to catch up with you over the holidays somewhere quiet. My reasons for not wanting to go out with you are personal… very personal and they have nothing to do with anyone but me,” and having said this, he added, “I’m going to be late, excuse me,” and he stalked past her and quickly disappeared up the first flight of stairs.
He didn’t think to check if she was still watching him as he turned into the library corridor and mounted the stairs to the training grounds tower, and he certainly didn’t hear her growl when she saw where he was going.
To his surprise, when he arrived at the door Violet said, “Good Evening, Mister Potter, you are expected.”
Harry quickly went in and seeing no one in the sitting room, he took the stairs two at a time up to Hermione’s room and knocked.
“Yes?” she answered.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure, Harry,” came the response.
“I just came to see if you’re almost ready, I’d like to get there first if that’s all right.”
Hermione was sitting on her bed pulling on her suede plum coloured ankle boots. She had on plum-coloured hipster jeans and a cream camisole. She’d charmed her hair black and plum to match her jeans and she had a loose cream coloured knit jumper on the bed. She stood on her impossibly high boots, but paused before she went to her mirror. She looked at him. “What’s happened?” she asked resuming her progress to her mirror.
“Happened?” he asked feigning innocence.
She started to attach a necklace with red stones, but looked around at him. “Don’t try and hide it, love,” she said. “Was it Ginny or Ron?” she asked, picking up the matching earrings.
“It was Ginny, but I don’t want to talk about it, we’re escaping and you look yummy. Who are you dressing for?” he asked, even though he knew who she was dressing for.
She gave him the ‘really’ look. “We’re having a meeting that includes the sexiest wizard I know. So, I’m sure you do not need to be told who I might be dressing for,” and she giggled, adjusting one of the charms on her smoky makeup, before she warned, “And we’re talking about what she did or said later,” and she twirled for him.
“Understood,” Harry acknowledged, but then waggled his eyebrows at her. “So, Snape means that much to you, does he?” he asked, as he went to the trunk he’d stashed in her room to find his cloak.
Hermione stopped halfway through picking her jumper up off the bed. She looked at him seriously and replied, “Yes, I think he is going to be very important to me, but we’ve already discussed that. Do you have an issue?”
“No,” he said easily, and then changed the subject. “I hope you don’t mind me putting some of my stuff up here.”
“Its fine, I want you to have a safe place too,” she replied, carefully pulling her jumper on and then swinging her cloak around herself. She glanced up at him when he didn’t answer, and found him just smiling at her. “Right, ready,” she said. “What?” she asked, when he just stood watching her and didn’t move.
“You’re brilliant, you know,” he said finally. “I’ve always thought that if I’d had a sister I’d have wanted her to be as wonderful as you,” and he stepped towards her and pulled her into a tight hug.
Hermione was pleased that she’d charmed her makeup and hadn’t used Muggle cosmetics, because she found herself crying at his declaration. “Me too,” she said, sniffing. “I consider you the brother I never had but dearly wanted,” she told him.
They finally overcame their emotional declarations of siblinghood and Harry opened the window and enlarged his broom.
Hermione rode side saddle on the front of Harry’s broom, with sticking charms to keep her cloak in place, and they arrived outside the Hogshead at five to eight.
Almost as soon as they landed, Severus came out of the shadows taking the last drag on his cigarette, and as they were greeting one another, Draco and Blaise arrived via their brooms.
“Welcome to my bar,” Harry said, and he opened the door and ushered them in.
Severus offered Hermione his arm, and she accepted it happily. She was hoping he had a pleasant surprise when he saw her in the light, and they walked inside.
Being a Saturday night, the place was much busier than it had been at lunch time. Fred, George and Lee were still there, and they were now playing pool with Alicia and Angelina, in a part of the place that Hermione had wandered around while Harry and Ollie talked this afternoon.
Harry saw her looking. “We only open the games room of an evening,” he said, as he vanished his cloak.
“Exactly how many people are members of your exclusive little club?” Hermione asked as she watched them all taking off their cloaks.
“Oh, about fifty,” Harry stated nonchalantly. “Well, fifty-two now,” he corrected himself, indicating Blaise and Severus.
Hermione nodded. “That many,” she said, as she calculated that she had everyone’s attention, and she vanished her cloak.
“Sweet Nimue,” Blaise chocked out.
“Well, you are full of surprises,” Severus stated smoothly, his eyes ravenously devouring her.
“Raven, I presume,” Draco said, smirking, and he was happy when Blaise and Severus snapped their heads around to him. “My fellow snakes, please meet, Raven. Our beloved Hermione’s equally charming alter ego. This is the reason why Hermione will be the artistic director of our new club.”
Blaise looked at Severus and said, “Do you get the feeling that we’ve missed several steps here?”
“Mmm, indeed,” the Potions Master replied. “Perhaps you’d care to enlighten Mister Zabini, Draco,” and his eyes took another look at Hermione. “And I believe our delightful witch has neglected several details in her explanation to me last night.”
“Certainly,” Draco said. “It doesn’t surprise me, Hermione probably didn’t say a word about Raven.”
“No, she didn’t,” Severus confirmed, casting a speculative look at an innocently smiling Hermione.
“I wanted it to be a surprise, Severus,” she told them.
“Well, you’ve certainly managed that, love,” Blaise snorted.
“Please, let’s sit and talk about it,” Harry added, gesturing to his booth in the corner. “I’ll organise drinks.”
Harry walked to the bar while Severus once again took Hermione by the arm, securing her attention. He quickly moved her towards the booth and installed them together in the corner. His eyes were still avidly taking her in. “Lovely,” he murmured close to her ear.
“I’m happy that you approve,” Hermione replied, a smirk tipping the corner of her red painted lips up. “I thought that the concept might be easier to visualise if I dressed more appropriately.”
Harry handed out drinks from a bottle of aged Firewhisky, but as he slid a glass of wine towards Hermione he said, “Perhaps you better wait until your food arrives.”
“My food?”
“Yes, I noticed that you left dinner yet again without eating,” he said. “Do you think you could eat something now?”
“Why did you not eat?” Severus cut in before Hermione could answer.
Hermione sighed and shrugged. “I lost my appetite. It happens a lot lately.”
“Yes, the taunting did get quite out of hand again tonight,” Blaise commented.
“Taunting?” Severus questioned, he hadn’t been present at dinner. “The Slytherins who usually trouble you were absent,” he said.
Hermione sighed. “Yes, they were absent after the incident with Greg, but they’re not the only ones who trouble me.” She hadn’t wanted to go into this. “Ginny is still warning people to take extra care of their boyfriends when I’m around, that I might steal them, even after Harry assured her again that he is not involved with me. It is so childish, but it is difficult not to be affected by it. I just wanted to hex her and all her stupid friends.” She sighed again. “But that would make me as bad as them.” Then anger surged up through her anew at every aspect of her situation. “It is totally intolerable,” she stated. “The headmistress indicated that she would deal with things, but even now, after both Draco and Greg have been attacked, nothing has been done.”
“I know you’re bearing the worst of this, sweetie, but you didn’t expect McGonagall to change things overnight, did you?” Harry asked, speaking for the first time.
“Well frankly, yes, she seemed to go away from our talk with a clear idea of what was needed.”
“I hate to say this, Hermione, but having a clear indication of something and knowing how to fix it are often two entirely different things,” Severus said.
“Yes, and I know that rapping people over the knuckles often has the opposite effect, and they become more defiant,” and she huffed again.
A waitress arrived with a plate of food and looked to Harry.
“Here, please, Rose,” he said.
“Thank you,” Hermione said, as she looked down at the meal Harry had ordered for her. “Thanks, Harry.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied. “Would anyone else like any food?” and when everyone else shook their heads, Harry turned to the waitress. “Thanks,” he said, and then, “Okay, let’s get onto the subject we came here to discuss,” and he cast a Muffliato around the table. “So, what has Hermione told you?” he said, looking at Severus.
“We have discussed the themes of the club and where we could source staff, but for the benefit of Blaise, perhaps we had best start at the beginning again.”
“Yes, that’s reasonable,” Hermione replied, but then looked at Harry and Draco accusingly. “Haven’t you pair told Blaise anything?”
“Yes, we,” and he gestured between himself and Blaise, “have discussed what you might do on New Year’s Eve,” Draco told Hermione.
“Have you organised the pièce de résistance yet?” he asked Harry.
“Pièce de résistance?” Severus asked.
“Yes, on New Year’s Eve we will get to watch Hermione… I mean Raven perform at a club in Germany,” Draco stated, perhaps more excitedly than he should.
“Yes, Kurt returned my owl this morning. It’s all booked, and he says that we can bring as many guests as we like, he’s reserved a private balcony for us,” Harry replied.
“I think Kurt is being a little grandiose telling us to bring as many guests as we like, those balconies would be too crowded with more than ten people in them,” Hermione added. “The place isn’t that big.”
“Well, that’s a guest each,” Draco said.
Harry scoffed. “If you have a guest you want to bring.”
“We’re getting off track,” Severus stated.
They settled into a conversation where they discussed everything from the beginnings, and Draco and Blaise told the others what you’d envisaged prior to this idea coming up.
It was close to midnight when they finally wrapped up the conversation. Most of the patrons had left, knowing that the place closed at midnight.
Severus glanced around the place; he’d heard music before, and he spotted a jukebox in the corner. Then he noted that they were the only people present as they door closed behind the last of the paying customers. “Now,” he said, “Is there any other business that we need to discuss?
“I think the next meeting might be best held at the warehouse, so Hermione and Harry can see the space and give us more delicious ideas,” Draco suggested.
“Yes, that’s an excellent idea. Perhaps it should include Flint and Purcey as well.”
“Excellent, that’s decided,” Severus stated, turning his head to Hermione. “Would you care to dance with me?”
Hermione grinned eagerly.
Slipping gracefully out of the booth, he extended his hand to her. “Do you tango?” he asked, raising a raven eyebrow.
Her smile widened and she accepted his hand. “I hope you can keep up,” she challenged, her eyes locked with his.
Draco and Blaise knew that Severus was an exceptional dancer, it was part of the reason that he was such a talented dueller, and they eagerly got up to watch. Harry was a little bemused, but followed them.
The jukebox at the back of the games room was currently playing some slow piece, but as Severus flicked his hand towards it a heavy metal beat started to reverberate around the bar. (1) He struck a tango pose and Hermione followed his lead.
The music started to thump out the beat and Hermione smiled as they started dancing, flawlessly mirroring one another without touching. They were only millimetres apart, and Hermione was following his lead without question, matching him every step with precise movements.
Harry watched mesmerized as they danced, their leg movements perfectly matched and their eyes locked on one another as they circled and spun around one another. This was the first time that Hermione had gone out in England in this guise, and she looked like the woman he’d come back to England with, before all of the trouble from small-minded people had started.
Now Hermione had one leg wrapped around Severus’ hip, her other foot sliding on the floor as he held her by the waist and pulled her as he backed in perfect time with the music. The movements of their hips in time to the music was precise and sensual.
Then he lifted her by the waist and she arched back allowing him to trail her around. Once he placed her feet back on the ground he turned her so she was facing away from him and pulled her backside into his pelvis, his hand splayed out over her stomach, and he held her there as he ground against her, all in time to the music. Her head came back and rested on his chest and she was putty in his hands just moving with him.
“Fuck!” Harry murmured. “This is like shagging with your clothes on,” he said to Draco, who was next to him.
“Yes, it’s hot, isn’t it?”
“Hot?” Blaise said, “It’s so fuckin’ horny.”
Then the song cut to an instrumental guitar break that was slower, with a more traditional tango instrumentation and Severus spun her back around and their steps became more in unison again and liquidly sensual. The song ended and the dance finished, and the three boys on the sideline just stood there watching the dancing couple who were caught in one another’s eyes.
Finally, Severus moved them so his back was to the others, effectively hiding Hermione from them, and he smirked at her. “And this is the girl who was so nervous the first night I sat with her that she spilt Firewhisky down her front.”
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t know how to act with you.”
“Well, you certainly do now, my dear,” he replied.
“Here I do,” she replied, suddenly realising that this could only happen here, and she couldn’t keep the disappointment off her face.
“Then we shall have to spend more time away from that school, won’t we?” he said, turning her and placing her arm through his.
“I’d like that,” and she laid her head on his arm as they walked.
Severus had already worked out that it would be a bad idea if anyone recognised Hermione as Raven, and he also wanted to tell her that he thought they might need to set some rules about her performances; he was not having his witch strip for other men, but he was very willing for her to dance if she wished to, but he realised as he thought this that he did not have the right to claim her yet, so he could not say a thing
They walked back to the table and Severus said, “I believe you have chosen your team well, gentlemen.”
“Excellent,” Draco stated, “Thank you, Severus.”
“Then I will bid you all good night,” Severus replied, and he turned to Hermione. “My dear, it was a pleasure,” and picking her hand off his arm, he brought it to his lips “Good night,” he said.
~~~***~~~
The next morning, Hermione arrived at breakfast with Harry on one side and Draco on the other. Harry had spent the night on the chair in Hermione’s bedroom that she’d transfigured into a bed for him. The thought of going back to Gryffindor tower and all his problems had been more than he could face and Hermione had already offered.
However, now it appeared that not going back had only made his problems worse. Now, not only was Ginny glaring at him, but Ron was as well. “I’ve just about had a gut full of this,” he muttered to Hermione and Draco.
Suddenly, all the good feelings started to slip away as Hermione found herself assaulted with all the usual problems and irritations. Her thoughts instantly turned to packing it all in again, and this was all made worse by the fact that at that moment Severus strode into the hall, and her memory of him grinding against her on the dance floor the night before roared back into life, and she had a hard time thinking let alone functioning.
He’d felt so good against her, but now that they were back at the school, and of course nothing was going to happen. Here it was just one more thing added to her problems.
~~~***~~~
All through the next week Hermione laboured through all of her problems, wondering how she was managing to keep going.
However, the final straw came at the end of the week when Professor Ross swooped on Severus as soon as he approached the head table, and because the eighth year table was so close to his side of the teacher’s table they all heard what the new Potions teacher said.
“I’ve saved you a place, Severus, dear,” she said batting her eyes at him.
“Severus, dear?” Draco snorted softly. “She’s got to be joking, hasn’t she?” he chortled next to Hermione’s ear, but was shocked when he heard Hermione simply growl at him under her breath.
Hermione watched Severus repelling the woman’s advances yet again, and her problems of the week that had just past became insignificant to the rage that consumed her, even as she heard Severus speaking severely with the woman.
“Madam, am I to have no peace from you? You will desist this instant. I have categorically informed you on a number of occasions that I wish to be addressed as Professor Snape by you, yet you continually ignore my wishes. I am not interested in you in any way,” and he sneered fiercely at her, turned on his heel and went and sat at the other end of the table.
Hermione hadn’t realised that she’d started to rise from the table as she drew her wand until Harry’s arm around hers pulled her back down. “You can’t hex a teacher,” he hissed in her ear. “And you don’t want everyone to know you’ve got the hots for Snape,” he warned her.
As angry as she was, Harry’s words filtered into her mind and she fought with herself to maintain control as she glanced around the table and saw people giving her questioning looks. However, it was then that she saw Ginny looking every bit as angry as she felt, and she realised all too late that the redhead’s wand was also in her hand, and suddenly pain sliced into her arm just above where Harry’s hand was still resting on it.
She squealed in shock and pain, and bolted up from the table, desperately trying to staunch the flow of blood coming from her arm. “What?” she cried, “No!”
“It’ll teach you to touch what isn’t yours,” Ginny screamed, obviously beyond reason.
Much to her mortification Hermione felt tears springing to her eyes. She felt herself being pushed behind Harry and suddenly there were more bodies in front of her.
Hermione could hear Harry’s voice. “Why the hell did you do that?”
“Harry, open your eyes, she’s keeping company with bloody Slytherins. Look now, she’s got Malfoy, Zabini and Snape in front of her. It’s no wonder Ron doesn’t want her; he must see that she’s a Death Eater slut.”
“Well, you’ve changed your tune, I thought you said it was me she was with?” Harry roared.
Not wanting to be left out, Ron waded into the argument. “You know nothing about it, Gin,” he snapped. “Don’t comment on stuff you know nothing about, yeah? ‘Mione’s the last person you should be callin’ a DE.”
Ginny put her hands on her hips her wand still drawn, and she started in on her brother loudly, and the crowded hall heard every word. “Well, how was it then, Ron, ay? You know mum was counting on you and her to match up,” she indicated Hermione with her head.
“It’s not like that,” and he glanced around at their vast audience, and added, “Now is not the time to discuss this.”
“I agree,” Charlie put in. “You know the routine,” and he gestured with his hand. “My office,” and he marched his sister from the room with the headmistress following.
Hermione couldn’t take anything else in, but then she heard Severus’ voice. “May I see the wound please, Miss Granger?”
She was just plain shocked, but she nodded her shaky consent and Severus’ long, dexterous fingers gently peeled back her cloak. However, it was hearing Draco’s gasp that made her look down at the wound.
The leaking blood had slowed, but there was a gaping slice through her upper arm. She squeezed her eyes shut in disbelief. “Oh,” she managed feebly, trying valiantly not to buckle at the knees.
“Madam Pomfrey will need to repair this. There is too much damage to the muscle for me to simply close it. Here,” Severus told her in an almost matter-a-fact voice, and he reached into his coat pocket. “Take these,” and he handed two phials to Hermione.
He watched her shakily take first the Calming Draught and then the pain potion. Using his wand, he pointed it at her arm and said, “Ferula,” which splinted and bandaged the wound. He then withdrew a neatly folded handkerchief from his pocket and muttered, “Engorgio.” The small square of pristine white linen grew and he made a sling with it.
Hermione was shaky enough as it was, but as he leaned forward to position the makeshift sling around her neck after carefully moving her hair out of the way, she almost swooned remembering the night before.
While he was close, he murmured, “The boys will take you to the infirmary, and I will come as soon as I’m able.”
Harry apparently heard, and she felt him sling an arm around her shoulder, and her feet started to walk almost without her permission.
“Come on, love, we’ll take care of you,” Harry told her.
“Yeah, they’re all crackers,” Draco put in, nudging Blaise to follow them, as the three of them walked her towards the infirmary.
Notes:
(1) Metal Tango by Doro
Chapter 13: the Last Straw
Notes:
Disclaimer:- I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.
~~~***~~~
A/N:- Thank you all for your comments and kudos for the last chapter, I appreciate them all. Thank you also to, Golden Asp, for betaing this chapter.
Chapter Text
Harry turned his gaze to Hermione as they started walking. She’d cast a longing look back to the professor they’d just left, and was now looking at the floor in front of them as they walked, and he heard her sniffing softly. His best friend had suffered far too much to be enduring this calculated victimisation by his jealous ex-girlfriend just after she’d just gotten rid of unfair persecution from Draco’s equally deranged ex.
He glanced back at Snape as they walked out of the hall and he saw him watching them before he turned away to enter the fray with Charlie, and Harry realised that Hermione must have wanted Snape to be the one with his arm around her caring for her, and when he’d shot a quick look at Snape himself, he could see that the professor felt the same. This shocked him slightly, but that was the moment Hermione finally started to vocalise her feelings.
“I d-didn’t see this one coming,” but then she cleared her throat when her voice came out quivery and nasal.
It was Draco who answered her. “There are very few witches who would understand your friendship with Potter,” he said, but Hermione only blinked at him, her eyes swimming with tears.
“I’m so pissed off at her,” Harry added.
Blaise waited outside as they entered the infirmary--he’d just come along for support—he didn’t feel comfortable going in with them, but was pleased that Draco seemed to be at ease to go in with them. His friend needed more support as Blaise wasn’t always around, and he sighed as he watched them disappear into the infirmary. He found himself thinking of leaving, coming back here had been a huge mistake, and besides, he’d only come back so that Draco had an ally.
In the infirmary Madam Pomfrey bustled over and took Hermione from Harry. She seemed to know what had happened. “Up on the bed, dear,” she instructed, taking Hermione’s cloak off and tutting at the damage as she undid the bandages. She glanced at Harry and Draco, who had positioned themselves at the foot of the bed like ominous guardians. “You gentlemen can leave me to it now,” the matron tried.
“No,” a voice from the fireplace said. “They will remain. We will stay with Miss Granger until we can take her to safety,” Severus stated, striding towards the matron. “Too many threats have been made against her, and now she cannot even defend herself.”
Ignoring the essence of what Severus had just said, the matron tut and her lips thinned. “Miss Granger will not want three men witnessing me removing her blouse. If you feel you need to, you may visit with her later,” she instructed Harry and Draco, and then she turned to Severus. “And I’m certain that you, Severus, have better things to do than watch me treating a student.”
“Please, ma’am, I don’t mind,” Hermione stated, her voice still nasally. “I would actually feel safer if they remained.”
Of course the matron took this the wrong way. “I and my infirmary are perfectly safe, young lady, and you will do well to remember that, and you should be ashamed of yourself for wanting them to stay and ogle you while I treat you.”
Amongst everything else being accused of yet more stupidness instantly had her ire rising, but she tried to remain polite. “I did not mean that I thought that you or your infirmary are not safe, ma’am. I meant that I do not wish to be alone, and these men are my friends.”
“Tosh, dear. You can’t be friends with a professor. Be on your way, Severus,” she told him dismissively. “No good will come from you staying, and I will not treat this girl until you’re all gone.”
Harry turned to the two Slytherins. “What if we compromise? We want Hermione’s arm fixed.”
“What do you have in mind, Mister Potter?” Severus asked, starting to realise that he’d just shown his hand where Hermione was concerned, but he hadn’t thought twice as soon as he’d seen that the redheaded bitch had attacked her. He’d been at her side before he’d realised that his feet had carried him there. This would probably not mean anything good, so he had better put plans in place before the hammer fell.
“We could wait behind the screen here,” Harry said, pulling the screen between him, Draco, Severus and the bed containing Hermione.
However, the matron was obstinate, and she came around the screen. “You have classes to go to, Mister Potter, leave!”
“Madam Pomfrey, I respect you and admire you for your role in the war, however, you are allowing our friend to suffer while you argue semantics with us. We could just leave and take her to St. Mungos.”
“You are students,” Poppy gasped.
“We are adults who are still studying,” Hermione said as her feet hit the floor. “And I for one, have had enough of this,” and she started stalking towards the Floo, even though her head was spinning with shock.
“Miss Granger, where are you going?” Madam Pomfrey cried.
“To St. Mungos where I will not be questioned on the appropriateness of having my friends standing by in support of me, where I will feel safe out in public, and not be afraid that there’s some loony waiting around the next corner to accuse me of something I haven’t done, or worry me about the pureness of my blood, or attack me because she thinks I’m sleeping with her ex-boyfriend when I’m not. I will return once I’ve been treated.”
“No!” the matron cried. “You cannot go through the Floo system with an open wound on your arm. Please, come back here, and allow me to treat you.”
Hermione eyes narrowed further. “And my two friends may stay if they wish?” She was careful not to include Severus in her statement this time, as she thought about his position in things.
“Yes, dear, your friends may stay. They may sit behind the screen if they wish, and perhaps I misunderstood you about the professor,” the matron told her, casting a look at Harry and Draco, but not daring to look at the scowl on Severus’ face.
“Perhaps you did,” Hermione replied. “Thank you for making certain that I am safe, sir,” she said to Severus, turning away from the matron and giving him a crafty little smile.
“You are welcome, Miss Granger.” He then turned to the matron. “You are correct, Poppy, I have many things to see to,” and turning on his heel he strode from the room. “I’m going to fry Minerva for allowing this idiocy to continue,” he muttered as he left.
Both Harry and Draco heard him, but said nothing as they obediently positioned themselves behind the screen.
Hermione was sorry to see Severus go, but she understood why he had, and she thought that he’d covered his tracks well once she’d given him the option to do so. She settled down to finally have her arm treated.
It was almost lunch time by the time she was allowed to leave, but Harry and Draco had stayed with her. They escorted her back to her rooms, and Draco made her a mug of tea while Harry went to see Charlie.
~~~***~~~
In the wake of what had happened at breakfast, Harry felt that he needed to at least make sure that Charlie knew what was going on, and he caught him just as he was leaving his office for lunch. “Hey, Harry,” the cheerful redhead said.
“Hi,” Harry replied, and then said, “I wish to tell you why I’m not interested in Ginny.”
“You don’t need to, Harry. Your reasons are your own.”
“But I want to. Hermione has suffered enough. She’s been muttering about leaving all term, and I think that she actually might now.”
“Well, if you feel you wish to. Come in,” Charlie said, and as he shut the door he added, “Ginny’s been confined to her dorm until Mum and Dad get here. It’s much the same stipulation that was put on the Greengrass girl.” He sat at his desk and gestured for Harry to sit too. “Well?” he questioned quietly, pretty certain that he knew what Harry was going to tell him.
“I’m sorry that Ginny’s been hurt by me, but my relationship with her kind of led me to where I am at the moment. I broke it off with her at the end of sixth year because I knew I’d have to go on the run, and I didn’t think it was fair to leave her hanging, but also because I’d had an encounter during the Easter holidays that year… It was something life changing. I met someone at a tube station café, and we got talking over the period of about a week and then we hooked up…” He took a deep breath. “The thing is, and I haven’t even admitted this to ‘Mione yet… but the person I had the encounter with was m-male, a-and it made me see things really differently.” Harry just stared off over Charlie’s left shoulder after his admission, and he started when he saw Charlie get up and come around his desk.
“I had suspected things might sit somewhere around that area,” he said softly. “Do you feel better for having told me?”
Harry was blushing, but he was feeling a little bit better for having admitted at least part of what was going on with him, and he smiled and nodded. “Yes,” he said, and then he added, “I’ve had several casual boyfriends now, but I’d been hoping that Ginny would have moved on by the time we’d come back here… I guess that’s why I’m here really, you know coming to see you. I’m at my wit’s end. I’ve told her several times that it’s got nothing to do with Hermione, but she just won’t believe me, and now this…”
Charlie sighed. “Weasleys, we’re all pig-headed, but Gin’s taking it to new heights.” He patted Harry on the shoulder. “I’ll see if I can talk to her. Is Hermione all right?”
“Not really, it’s her wand arm, and now it’s in a sling. The matron has told her not to use it for five days, and she’s pretty devastated, as well as boiling mad. It’s left her even more open to attack with everything else that going on,” Harry continued angrily. “And there was no need for her to…” he looked at Charlie. “Frankly, if I ever lay eyes on her again outside this place I’m not going to be responsible for my actions.”
“And no one would blame you, Harry, but remember, she is my sister,” Charlie warned.
Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he exhaled slowly. “Yeah, but it doesn’t change anything. This whole venture has been a useless waste of time,” Harry said. “I’m so angry that we fell for the ministry’s spiel yet again, nothing has changed.”
“Ministry’s spiel?” Charlies asked.
“Part of the reason Hermione and I didn’t go to one of the other schools two years ago was that the ministry wrote to both of us and begged us to wait until Hogwarts reopened. They said they wanted their ‘war heroes’,” and he used air quotes, “to lead the way. At the time I didn’t think anything of it, but I know it tore Hermione apart for a long time, she’d had such plans for herself, and now it looks like she’ll be leaving without her NEWTs, without being head girl, an honour she should have had, and without the recognition she deserves. It’s just plain wrong, she gave up so much for this world and she’s only received kicks in the teeth back.”
“I’ll see what Minerva is going to do about it, and I’ll get back to you, Harry. Thank you for telling me all this.”
“And that’s another thing too. What the hell is going on with McGonagall? Why is she letting this all happen?”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve already put all of this to her, tried to discuss it with her rationally, pointed out where things could be improved, but it’s like she still thinks that we’re first years.” He got up and started pacing, throwing his arms about.
Charlie sighed. “I suppose I should be reprimanding you for that, but surprisingly I tend to agree with you, and I think it might just be her way of coping with what was always going to be a difficult situation.”
“Yes, we realise that it must be difficult for her, but she was the one that told us that she would not be putting up with any problems, and look…” he swept his arm around as he left the sentence open-ended.
“Well, I better go and see her,” Charlie said, moving towards the door.
“Actually, perhaps you should wait a bit; I got the impression that Snape was on his way to flay her over the whole situation when he left the hospital wing.”
Charlie chuckled. “In that case that is excellent advice, she’s probably still applying the burn cream.”
Harry laughed. “Thanks, Charlie, I needed that.”
“I’ll come and see Hermione after lunch. See how she is, Gavin and I are very fond of her. I’d hate to think she’s suffering.”
“Cool, I’ll let her know,” Harry said, also heading for the door. “I better let you get your lunch.”
“Thanks, Harry. See you later,” Charlie replied as they walked out of the office and parted company.
~~~***~~~
That night, Hermione had been visited by the headmistress, who had urged her not to do anything rash.
“Ma’am, with all due respect, I believe I mentioned once before to you that I was not going to waste my time here, and frankly, I have yet to decide the meaning of the word ‘rash’. It could be applied to several situations that I and my friends have found ourselves in of late, and none of which have been our fault. I have not decided what I plan to do, but I am very angry that I am now a virtual prisoner because of threats made against me by one sector of the population of this castle, and because of the idiocy of another resident that my right hand is now useless to me, and my left hand does not cast as quickly as my right hand does. I may as well go on holidays early, at least in the Muggle world I will not be threatened simply because I cannot use my wand.” Hermione then sat there defiantly, making no apology for her words.
“Well,” Minerva spluttered. “You must do what you think advisable. I will wait to hear what you’ve decided,” and there was a definite sarcastic tint to her words, and with that she rose and left.
Hermione sighed and rubbed her hand over her forehead, as if it would stop the headache that was developing there.
Next, Charlie and Gavin arrived with Harry and Ron in tow.
“Hi guys,” she said from her position on the lounge.
Violet had allowed them all in without her getting up because Hermione had told her to.
“Mum’s taken Ginny home,” Ron said, by way of greeting.
“Well, I can’t say I’m sorry,” Hermione replied coldly.
Unfortunately, this was not what Ron wanted to hear, he may have supported Hermione’s side that morning, but that was only because his sister was including him into the problem. Now, he took offence at Hermione getting cross. “Oi, you know Ginny waited for Harry, and she thought that you’d stolen him.”
Hermione looked at him, her mouth open. “Exactly what are you saying?” she asked finally.
“Yes, exactly what are you saying, Ron?” Harry cut in angrily.
“It’s just that everyone’s going on about Hermione. Ginny is just as much the victim here,” Ron said.
“Now, just a minute, Ron,” Charlie said, stepping into the discussion. “That’s incorrect. Hermione was not the one who resorted to violence on flimsy evidence. I agree that Ginny’s a victim, but only of her own pig-headedness, and if you’re not here to support Hermione then I think you’re in the wrong place, mate.”
Ron stood up, his fists clenched. “Yeah, well maybe I am. It stinks of Slytherins here anyway,” and he said, and walked out, slamming the door as he went.
It wasn’t long after Ron’s exit that Charlie and Gavin also left. “I want to make certain he’s gone back to Gryffindor Tower,” Charlie said as they left. “Both Ron and Ginny can be pretty unstable sometimes. I love them both, but…”
It was here that Gavin cut in. “You’re both welcome at our place for Christmas.”
“Thanks, Gavin,” Harry said, glancing at Hermione. “But we’ve half made plans to be in Germany already. Can we let you know?”
“Sure,” Gavin replied.
Hermione sighed; she was feeling really tired, her arm was starting to throb again and the only person she really wanted to see was Severus. “Thank you for coming. Bye, guys,” she said as Charlie and Gavin started towards the door.
Harry and Hermione watched the pair leave, and a moment later Draco came out of his bedroom and came down to join them.
“This is such a bloody mess,” Hermione sighed, rubbing her arm. “I can’t take this anymore.” Then she sighed. “I believe I’ve realised that waiting to finish here at Hogwarts was foolish. You can’t go backwards, and that’s effectively what I’m trying to do. I need a more adult environment, somewhere that nobody cares who I am. Where I can learn without all this drama,” she told them passionately, but then she sighed. “However, there are so many things I want to learn about magic too.”
“So you’ve decided to leave?” a voice asked from the doorway.
A smile lit Hermione tired face. “I think it’s the only option left, Severus,” she said, watching him walking towards them.
The Potions Master settled into the chair opposite the lounge, but when he saw Hermione rubbing her arm, he got up again and said, “I’ll get you some pain potion.”
“I think I’ll go for a fly,” Draco said. “Want to come, Potter?”
“Sure,” Harry replied. He walked the short distance to Hermione and lent down, kissing her forehead. “Whatever you decide to do, love, I’ll do as well, because I totally agree, this is a complete waste of time. We’ve got so many other things that we could be doing.”
“Thanks, Harry,” Hermione whispered, emotion starting to bubble up inside her again.
Harry stepped aside and Draco stepped up. “You know, I’m a rich bastard,” and he chuckled. “What do I need NEWT levels for? I’d made my mind up weeks ago that this was useless, but I’d just made two new friends and I didn’t want to lose them so quickly, and now we’re all going to be in business together... It’s going to be great!” he enthused, and he also kissed her, and then turned to Harry. “Come on, Potter, I’m going to whip your arse good,” he challenged grinning cheekily.
“Not bloody likely, Malfoy. Bring it on,” Harry said, chuckling as they brushed past Severus coming back in.
“Do I want to know what that was about?” the Potions Master asked, glancing back as the door shut. He sat down next to Hermione and handed her the phial he was carrying while he waited for her answer.
“They’re going flying. I just hope they don’t end up wrapped around a tree somewhere. They’re both in reckless moods.”
“That as it may be, they’re also both prodigious flyers; they’ll be fine,” he encouraged. “Now, how about you?”
She sighed, wanting nothing more than to cuddle up to him. “I’m torn,” she admitted.
“There are more ways to learn magic than attending Hogwarts, Hermione,” Severus told her, instantly cutting into what was troubling her.
“There are?” she replied, blinking. “B-But who would teach me without NEWT levels?”
“You’d be surprised. What do you wish to learn?”
“Everything,” she replied, smiling at him.
He smiled in return. “Well, isn’t that a typical Hermione Granger answer. If you could be more specific, then perhaps I could see if I can advise you on how to gain the knowledge you require. You will find that many scholars will willingly impart their knowledge to those who are interested in acquiring it, as long as they benefit from it in some way and they can see that you have a genuine passion for their field.”
“Like you?” she questioned.
“Yes, little miss know-it-all, like me,” he said, returning her smile.
She grinned at him, and leaning over she kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
Taking advantage of the situation, Severus gently pulled her into his lap. “I am very much looking forward to having you away from here,” he told her nuzzling her hair with his nose.
She rested her head on his chest for a moment, and then cleared her throat and pushed away enough to look at him. “And that’s exactly the thing I’m torn about.”
“How so?”
“If I leave here, you’ll be here, and I’ll be…” and she shrugged.
“Perhaps not,” he stated enigmatically, and pulled her head back down onto his shoulder.
“What do you mean?” she asked, happily falling against him again.
“It is possible that you and your little band of fans are not the only ones who are unhappy here. As I stated earlier, I cannot wait to get you away from here. I also cannot wait to be away from here, and if say the only things I’m remaining for were to leave…” he said slyly, leaving the statement open-ended.
“Oh, Severus,” she gushed, and wound her good arm around his neck, pulling him closer.
She loved being in his lap, and as she pulled back to look at him again, she found that their lips were mere millimetres apart, and it was too much for her. She surged forward covering his mouth with her own.
They sat there devouring each other’s mouths, their tongues battling and tangling, and to Hermione it was a revelation. She moaned into their kiss, wiggling on his lap and she felt more than heard a rumbling chuckle rising from his chest.
He broke the kiss and watched her.
“I want you,” she whispered, trying to pull his mouth against hers again.
He resisted, but said, “And I you, but we cannot engage in anything more than this here, regardless of my circumstances, that beastly witch upstairs has placed certain wards into the castle fabric that inform her about certain activities. I will collect you on Saturday morning. Where will you be?”
Hermione was shocked by this information; she hadn’t thought Professor McGonagall would be so sly, and her mind turned over a fresh what Severus meant by saying ‘circumstances’, but she answered him. “I’ll be at Grimmauld Place. The plan at the moment is to leave after the Quidditch match Friday afternoon.”
“That is reasonable. I cannot leave until term finishes. I had been planning to stay and teach those who deserved it for the year, however, I am currently only contracted for this term. I was planning to renegotiate, but after what I’ve heard tonight, I believe I might be free to do as I please, especially if those I have stayed to teach will no longer be here.”
“Oh, Severus, that would be wonderful,” and he allowed her to kiss him again. They explored each other’s mouths for some time again, but as soon as Hermione started to shift to straddle his lap, he called an end to it.
She moaned softly, but understood his reasoning, even though she was so turned on that her head was spinning. “No,” she groaned in a drawn out breath.
His hands came up to cradle her cheeks. “You’re sitting on my lap so I’m certain that you can feel how much I want you, Hermione, but we are both adults, we can wait until we’re away from here.”
Hermione’s mouth tightened, but she nodded. “Of course, you are correct, and thank you,” she murmured. She took a deep breath seemingly to calm herself. “Then may I offer you some supper and conversation?” she said, reluctantly slipping off his lap.
Yes, she had felt the hard lump that had been digging pointedly into her backside, and she wanted very much to give in to temptation, but Severus was correct, doing so here would be stupid for both of them, especially after what he’d just told her.
“Perhaps over supper you feel you can be more forthcoming about what subjects you would like tutorage in.”
“Oh, I think I can manage that,” she replied, as she pushed herself into a standing position.
He offered his hand and she happily took it. “Then, come. I took the liberty of having supper prepared.”
They walked to his rooms, and once he’d settled her on his lounge he went into his small kitchen and came back with a tray of spiced biscuits and what smelt like mulled wine.
“It’s quite chilly tonight, so I thought this might be nice,” and he sat next to her and handed her a goblet.
“Thank you,” she said, inhaling the spicy fragrance before blowing on it and taking a small sip. “Mmm, nice,” she commented, and watched him for some moments before placing her goblet down and turning back to him.
He took a sip of his wine. “So, about the things you wish to learn?” he asked raising a raven eyebrow, and gesturing with his hand for her to continue.
Hermione didn’t speak immediately, obviously taking a moment to get her thoughts in order, before she held up her hand and started to list off subjects she wanted to know more about. “I think that the subjects that I wish to learn more than NEWT level allow are Arithmancy, Runes… and Potions,” but then she paused and her lip went between her teeth.
“That is easily achievable, but I get the feeling that there is more,” and he leaned further forward. “Something that you’re not certain you should tell me about perhaps,” he said, his eyebrow rising again.
She watched him for a time. “There is, you’re correct. I would also like to learn about wandlore… and… a-and…”
“Yes?” he asked, curious to know what would make her so hesitant.
She took a fortifying gulp of her wine. “I want to learn about… the dark arts as well,” she whispered.
Severus pursed his lips and sat observing her for some moments. “Why?” he asked simply once he’d settled his emotions.
“So many things happened during the war that I did not understand. If I’d had knowledge I would have known how to act. I have so many questions and… a-and I want to be able to fight back if it ever happens again.”
“I see,” and he nodded. “Hermione, you are a gifted witch, but believe me when I tell you that you do not possess what it takes to practice the dark arts. You would be a failure, as I was.”
“But you learned so much about them, didn’t you? And I suppose it depends on which way you look at it. I do not see not being black-hearted enough to succeed at the dark arts as being a failure,” she said smiling, and turning to face him with her knees tucked up under her.
Severus laughed. “You are correct.”
She smiled again, but sighed. “I’m explaining this rather badly. I do not want to practice them, I merely want an academic knowledge of them.”
“It’s still a slippery slope,” Severus informed her.
“I can understand your concern, but I’m confident that you’ll assist me in avoiding the pit falls.”
“Yes, I will not allow any harm to befall you,” he assured her, but his mind was working overtime trying to overcome his libido which had just soared further into life thinking of having a witch with like interests to himself. He was still interested in learning about aspects of the dark arts, for one thing, it kept him one step ahead of those who actually practiced them. He’d been right when he told her that he’d not really had the stomach for practicing them, even at the height of his passion for them. In any case, he changed the subject to a safer one.
“So, Potter is not planning to stay for the inevitable post Quidditch celebration on Friday?”
“I do not think Harry feels like celebrating at the moment. He and Ron are fighting again, and Harry’s pretty cut up about it.”
Severus’ brow twisted. “There’s more going on there than everyone thinks, isn’t there?”
“Yes, I think so,” Hermione sighed. “I’m pretty certain that Harry’s g…” she started to say, but Severus cut her off.
“No, don’t say it. I get the picture,” Severus stated, his face showing a dubious expression. “And Weasley’s not tolerant?”
“No, he’s not, and I think Ron’s too uptight about the subject.”
“Indeed,” Severus intoned. “And this would be why Potter hasn’t introduced his friend to his bar?”
“Yes, I believe so, although, he told me that he’d thought that he might need a place to escape to.” Hermione drained the last of her wine, and sighed, a yawn escaping her control. “Well, I suppose I better try and get some sleep.”
“Are you not sleeping well?” Severus asked.
“Yes and no,” she replied, standing up. “It depends. Sometimes things play on my mind.” She wasn’t about to tell Severus that she’d woken every night since her dream about him in a dire state of need that had required her to take things into her own hands. If real sex with him turned out to be half as well as her dreams she’d be an ecstatically happy witch.
Severus saw her blush, and replied, “I believe you may have to tell me about why you cannot sleep at some point. I may be able to assist you.”
“I’m very certain that you will. Good night, Severus. Thank you for supper.”
“You’re welcome. Good night.”
Chapter 14: The Damage Is Complete
Notes:
Disclaimer:- I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.
~~~***~~~
A/N:- Happy New Year everyone! Thank you all for your comments and kudos for the last chapter, I appreciate them all. Thank you also to, Golden Asp, for the beta work on this chapter.
Chapter Text
Hermione started attending her classes again the next day, even though she still had her arm in a sling. Of course, this prevented her from participating in anything practical, and as far as she was concerned, this was the final straw. The exercise of gaining NEWT levels was now a farce, and after her conversation with Severus the previous evening she had already resolved that she would trust him to provide her with her intellectual treats. Of course, he was already doing that; she loved her potions project and the things she was learning in his Defence Studies class, but she also longed to be free with him, and that was the most painful thing that was being denied her here.
She found that she had to be extremely careful where Severus was concerned. Every moment she was with him in public she had to be aware of her actions and speech, and this was a problem. Whenever she saw him her mind busily started cataloguing her so far brief but intense amorous encounters with him, both real and imagined, and in public she’d had to hide her expression on more than one occasion as she found herself smiling at him as he billowed ominously through the sea of dunderheads that surrounded him. She simply adored the way his robes caught the breeze as he walked and the scowling countenance that he showed to the world as large.
She knew that this face was deceptive, and that made it even more delicious because she often found herself imagining him stalking through the halls of Hogwarts with that expression affixed to his face as he walked while he was actually thinking of her writhing seductively for him on his bed. However, it was all very stressful.
Not half as stressful as it had been with Astoria Greengrass and Ginny Weasley glaring at her every opportunity that they got, or fearing for herself over the threats that had been made against her, but it was like she was walking on egg shells all the time. Of course, some of the remaining Slytherins were still trying to get a rise out of her, and that would probably never change, but on the whole they were actually leaving her alone now the trouble had been temporarily eliminated.
She felt fairly safe as well, even though she couldn’t cast with her right hand because it was confined at the moment. She could do a passable job with her left, but when she was out in the school she always seemed to have at least two ‘bouncers’ at her side.
Her bouncers, or ‘fan club’, as Severus called Harry, Draco, Blaise, and Greg were never far away from her. To everyone’s surprise, Greg had elected to stay after his problems, and was much happier now that Bulstrude and Nott were not there, and she couldn’t help thinking how things had changed.
Of course, it was only temporary, as next term would see them return, but it was giving those who remained time to organise what they would do. Hermione would never have thought that she’d have called any of the Slytherins valued allies, especially Greg Goyle, but on Thursday afternoon just after lunch Greg and Draco were with her, and Greg had literally flattened Theodore Nott’s younger brother in the hallway when he’d snarled, “Mudblood,” at her as he and Daphne Greengrass walked by, and she found herself thanking the goliath of a lad for his support.
Daphne Greengrass and the younger boy seemed to be looking out for each other, which as far as Hermione was concerned was incidental. It made it even plainer as to which side of the fence they sat on and that they still blamed Hermione for Daphne’s sister being expelled, even though she’d had nothing to do with it.
Daphne even spat at Draco, and then said, “Prick!”
Draco had managed to wriggle free of his obligation to Astoria because of her attack against him. This had pleased him very much, but of course it meant that the Greengrass’ were now unable to ally themselves with the Malfoy family. Despite the damage that had been done to the Malfoy name in the war, the Malfoys were still the most influential family in wizarding Britain, and their name afforded lesser families a significant rise in status.
It all left a bitter taste in Hermione’s mouth and just added to her resolve to leave. Therefore, it came to pass that afternoon before dinner that Hermione, Harry, Draco, Blaise, and Greg all met in Hermione and Draco’s sitting room and the conversation quickly turned to whether they were planning to come back next term.
“Why are you obsessing over this so much?” Draco asked. “We’ve all already decided that this is a farce.”
“I guess so,” Hermione countered. “I just want to make certain that we’re doing the right thing.”
“You’re looking at this all wrong, ‘Mione,” Harry said gently. “You’re thinking that we’re all as dedicated to our studies as you are. Now, I don’t want to speak for our Slytherin friends here, but you’re destined to be an academic, we all know that,” and he swept his hand around those gathered watching them nod.
“Yes, you have a thirst for knowledge that rivals Severus and Father,” Draco put in. “You’re a good match for Severus, Princess.”
“You can’t know that this early on,” Hermione scoffed, but then the remainder of his words sank in. “Your father is an academic too?” she asked, unable to hide her shock.
Draco chuckled. “Yes, if you think Severus’ library is huge, wait until you see Father’s. It rivals the library here. Well, it probably surpasses it,” and Draco sighed. “Anyway, we were discussing other things,” and his voice cracked slightly.
Hermione reached forward and covered his hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Draco cleared his throat. “My father was a monumental git, but the man who’s now locked up in Azkaban is not that man. The man he is now is a very humble man who’s seen the error of his ways, and I hope… Well, never mind.”
“If that is true then I hope he gets out to experience life again,” Hermione stated, squeezing his hand.
“Thanks, Princess,” Draco replied.
“Right,” Blaise said, “Back to our subject. So, I suppose I should tell you that I completed my wizarding education at Beauxbaton.” He glanced quickly at Draco.
“You what?” Draco said, his head snapping around to look at his friend. “Sneaky bloody git.”
Blaise shrugged easily. “You were still under house arrest. I was at a loose end, so I finished school.” Then he added quickly. “But I wanted to come back here anyway, and I’m just as fed up as you guys. So, I really don’t need to be here.”
“Well, I’ll be. Bloody hell,” Draco replied, and looking at them all one by one. “Then that makes it easier. I didn’t want to leave you here alone, but as I told Princess here, I don’t need NEWTs, especially if they’re going to be this much trouble. I’m always going to be a rich bastard.”
“Yes, we have accumulated a lot since we’ve been in business, haven’t we?” Blaise said, smirking.
“And I guess I fall into the same category,” Harry said, laughing with them.
“Yes, I keep forgetting that you’re a bloody lord, Potter,” Draco laughed.
Harry stood and bowed with a flourish. “Lord Potter-Black, at your service,” he cackled. “And I say, to hell with it,” Harry stated. “I’ve already got a business plan in place, and I’ll go the Muggle system and get a business degree to round things off.”
“So, we really can leave?” Hermione gasped, smiling when each of them nodded.
Greg had been sitting there very quietly, and then suddenly he said, “What about the Quidditch?”
“We can’t forget about that,” Harry said, sighing. “We’ve agreed to play.”
“But we’re a player down,” Draco helpfully informed them.
“Mmm, I guess I could ask Ollie to play,” Harry decided.
“All right, then let us know at dinner,” Draco and Blaise said together.
“Okay,” Harry replied thoughtfully, watching Blaise and Greg getting up to leave.
~~~***~~~
That night, Hermione sighed as she sat at dinner. She hated the idea of giving up on gaining her NEWTs but it was just becoming too difficult, and she reasoned that she may well be better off, well … really anywhere but here. She had allies, she had support, but nothing in that had changed her reasoning that coming back to Hogwarts had been a mistake. It was doing her head in. She was so bored with the majority of her work and there was so much stress around, she firmly believed that it was a completely lost cause.
On Wednesday she’d even had one final go at talking Professors Vector and Babbling into offering her more challenging work, but both teachers had simply quoted the requirements of the curriculum at her, and told her that she did not require any further knowledge. Her talks with both had left her convinced that they themselves did not know anything beyond what was required of them, all aspects of which Hermione had managed to master as she’d read about the and used them the year they were on the run.
It left her feeling very cheated that her teachers would not recognise that she was beyond what they were teaching. Then she thought of what Severus had said. He had already proven to her that he could challenge her mind with what it needed, and she also spared a thought that he might have the same effect on her body once they were away from this place.
However, before she got too far into thinking about things best not thought of at the dinner table, her attention came back to the table as the man she’d just been thinking about walked into The Great Hall via the teacher’s entrance. He was looking quite smug and Hermione wondered why, but as soon as he sat down at the head table Professor Ross started simpering something Hermione could not hear close to his ear and she saw red.
She knew that Severus was not interested in the woman, but it still annoyed her that the odious woman was able to claim his attention in public and she was forbidden to do so. She watched as Severus’ iron-clad façade fell into place as he brushed her off attempts at engaging him. In fact, Hermione saw him deliberately move away from her and glare, and then she saw his lips move forming words she lip read.
“Unhand me, Madam,” he said.
Severus and Hermione had not spent any time alone since Monday night, and Hermione was missing him terribly, but they had made a plan to meet on Saturday so she was content that it would only be two more days.
Then her focus was diverted as a heated discussion between Harry and Ron started. Tomorrow was the Quidditch exhibition game between the eighth years and an all-star side, and the only reason Hermione had decided not to leave earlier in the week was she wanted to be there for the boys.
As he’d said he would, Harry had asked Oliver to make up numbers by taking the place left by Ginny’s sudden departure and it appeared Ron was getting his knickers in a knot over it.
“What the bloody hell did you do that for?” she heard him hiss in a whisper.
“What choice did I have, mate?”
“Ginny was really looking forward to playing against Gwenog Jones.”
“Well, perhaps she should have thought of that before she let her jealousy get the better of her,” Harry replied in an equally heated hissed whisper.
“She only hexed ‘Mione because… well, you know,” he whispered, glancing at Hermione.
Hermione had been watching and she couldn’t help herself. She was sick of this old argument, and glancing around the table she deliberately placed her cutlery down. “Why was that, Ronald?” she asked, smirking sarcastically. “Because I was sitting here eating my dinner and minding my own business?”
Ron flashed her a wary look; he knew that tone and it was a dangerous one. He looked back to Harry. “You know how touchy Ginny was about you and ‘Mione,” he whispered quietly.
“Well, she has no reason to be, and you both know it,” Hermione stated fiercely. “Excuse me, I’ve just lost my appetite,” and before anyone could stop her she was striding towards the doors of the hall.
Unfortunately most of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team were closing in on the Great Hall from the other side of the door. They were late for dinner because their practice had run over and they were hurrying because they didn’t want to miss their dinner. Therefore, just as Hermione reached the doors they flung open, taking her with them.
There was a collective gasp from those watching from where she’d just left the eighth year table, and a cheer from the other group of Slytherins.
“Go Hufflepuffs,” Mandrake Nott yelled.
“Looks like they’re good for something after all,” Daphne Greengrass agreed, as Pansy Parkinson laughed along with her.
Most of the teachers had been watching Hermione’s words with Ron, and their eyes had followed her as Hermione left. Severus’ eyes were glued to Hermione falling after being slammed by the door, and before he’d thought about it he was on his feet. He only realised that the situation had overcome his iron-clad control when he was already half way up the hall. The only thing he was focused on at this moment was his Hermione, and he was running up the middle of the hall to get to her.
It didn’t register with him that Harry and Draco were taking Nott, Greengrass, and Parkinson to task over their comments, nor that Neville Longbottom had hurried towards the eighth year table, and Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, and Luna Lovegood had come to Harry and Draco’s aid in support.
Hermione squealed as she was hit by the door, and then she was falling. The Quidditch players realised too late what they’d done and a seventh year managed to catch her by the arm.
“Oh no, Miss Granger,” he gasped, but by this time Severus had made his way through the shocked and sorry players and was leading Hermione from the hall.
They made it outside, and he turned her to look at him. “Hermione. Let me see.”
“Seberus,” she gasped. “I’m habing a really horrible week,” she muttered, holding her nose.
Severus grimaced. “I know,” he said.
There was blood still trickling from her nose, and he could see that the pert little appendage was slightly crooked. He quickly incanted, “Episkey,” and cringed when her nose snapped back into place and she yelped in pain. “I’m sorry, but it’s better to get it over with quickly, love.”
Not caring who was watching, he wound his arms around her and held her to him. He’d cemented his plans for the coming term this afternoon. The headmistress did not know it yet, but he’d been to see the chairman of the Hogwarts board of governors, Arcturus Rosier. He’d handed him the finished curriculum for the new defence subject, and they’d gone through it together in depth. They’d made a plan to inform Minerva tonight, so this was simply pre-empting things a little.
The old man had been very impressed, and Severus had then confided in him his plans should a certain young lady and her friends decide that they did not wish to remain at Hogwarts next term. Arcturus had chuckled knowingly and patted Severus on the back. “Well, done, young man,” he’d replied. “You deserve some happiness now your life is back on track.”
Arcturus had always been a genial and fair wizard. In his working life he’d been a magistrate for the Wizengamot and Severus liked the old wizard a lot. He valued his opinion; he hadn’t thought about things that way yet, all he knew was that he wanted this witch in all her forms, and he glanced down at her in his arms now and gently pushed her back to arm’s length, as he bent down to look at her wounded nose again.
“Thank you,” she said, as she became aware that the boys had all arrived and were congregating around her, as well as several others. She felt Severus tending her bleeding nose further as he used a spell to clear the blood away, and she took a deep breath.
She blinked at them all, but the doors of the hall were still open from where they’d thrown them in their hurry to get to her and Hermione gasped as she saw Minerva McGonagall making steam-train like progress up the middle of the hall with the odious Potions teacher whispering furiously at her as she scurried along after her glaring at Hermione.
“Professor Snape!” McGonagall called as she strode towards him. “A word, if you please.” She’d seen everything, and she had started her journey towards the little group in complete shock that one of her professors was giving such intimate comfort to a student. She could not understand why. She was livid, and not only because of that, she knew that the witch whispering to her was interested in Severus, and here he was carrying on with Hermione Granger behind everyone’s back.
Severus saw Minerva’s expression and he was happy to see shock on her face. “Draco, get Hermione up to your rooms, all of you, and stay there until I arrive.” He knew he’d just signed his own resignation, but he didn’t care. He turned, allowing the fury he felt to show on his face.
He wasn’t about to speak to the headmistress about Hermione, that was their business and no one else’s. So to shift the focus he commanded the doors of the hall to shut and block out the view of the miscreant brats in the hall. He turned towards McGonagall’s shocked expression and said, “A word? No, actually I’d like to use a few more than that, Minerva.” He spared a scowl for Apolline Ross watching from behind Minerva and he started stalking towards them.
Minerva stood her ground as he started to approach but as he closed the distance between them he saw fear in her eyes, and then he saw her start to back away.
Minerva had never seen him this angry.
He stopped right in front of her. “The new curriculum was delivered to Arcturus Rosier this afternoon. He will arrive in one hour’s time and we will discuss things then,” he said, “However, allow me to inform you that I did not survive the war and clear my name to waste my life being hounded by this banshee of a woman while she is indulged by you.” He pointed at the Potions teacher before turning back to Minerva. “I had my fill of that with Sybil Trelawney until she left. I’ve given too many years of my life to other people. Now, my life is my own, and I will see you in your office in one hour,” and he apparated away.
The headmistress just stood there stunned, and then she realised that she had not even managed a word of what she’d been planning to take him to task about. After that it hit her that he’d apparated away. “How did he do that?” she muttered, still too shocked to think or move.
Severus knew that he’d just given the game away as he redirected himself to the portrait in front of their shared office so as not to break the wards he had on the area; the young people still benefiting from them would need them until they left. He was just about to go in when he heard the others still coming up the stairs, apparently they’d stopped to watch the show because they were all smiling at him. Well, all but Potter; he was busy questioning Hermione with a concerned look on his face.
“But you can’t just leave, ‘Mione, it’s not Friday yet,” he said.
“I can, and I will!” she said. “I’m not staying another moment.”
“But what about the Quidditch match?”
“Sod the Quidditch match, I’m sick of this crap. You don’t need me for a fricking Quidditch match,” and by this time she’d arrived at the office door and was looking at an amused looking Severus and she smiled at him.
“Tut, tut, my dear, such language,” he said, returning her smile. “Your nose appears to be better.”
“Yes, it is. Thank you,” and she leant up and kissed him. “Now I’m going to pack and leave, are you coming?”
“Yes,” Severus replied, the corner of his mouth tilting up into a smile.
“What?” Draco put in, his head snapping around towards Severus.
Severus smiled shark-like at them. “I’m sure you heard and saw that I’ve just signed my own resignation,” but then he looked up the hallway from where they’d just come and added, “and Minerva will be getting over her shock right about now, so I suggest that we get behind this door before she gets here.” He opened the door and gestured for them to go in. “No one gains access until I tell you otherwise, Violet,” Severus told the portrait guardian. “Oh, and thank you for your discretion.”
“You’re welcome, Headmaster, sir,” Violet replied, smiling.
Severus ushered them inside as he heard Hermione saying to the boys. “I’ve been a bloody fool to think that it would be any different in wizarding England than it was before, so I’m out of here. If you want to stay here and play your game of Quidditch that’s up to you.”
Severus cackled. “Do you have a place to stay, Hermione?”
Hermione glanced at Harry. “Well, that depends on what Harry says,” she stated, her lip suddenly slipping between her teeth.
Harry nodded. “You’re welcome at Grimmauld Place any time you want, love, but I think you might be just about to receive a better offer,” and he looked towards Severus and smiled. “Thank you, sir. I have learned such a lot from you this term,” and he held his hand out to shake.
Severus shook it, replying, “I never thought I’d say this, Potter, but you do have an excellent head for defence.”
“Thank you, sir,” Harry said, before adding, “And I’m happy for you both to stay at Grimmauld Place tonight if you want, but I did promise that we’d play Quidditch tomorrow…” and he grimaced. “Although, I don’t know if we’ll have a goalie now.”
“Thank you, Mister Potter, but I have a perfectly acceptable residence that Hermione is welcome to come and share with me.”
Draco watched all this, slightly dumbfounded that it was happening so fast after simmering all term, but then he cut in, “I might be able to solve the goalie problem. I’ve been seeing a seventh year on and off this term… She’s of age, and she’s the Ravenclaw goalie.”
“Melanie Taylor-Smith?” Harry asked.
“Yes, you’ve noticed her?”
“Yes,” Harry smiled. “She’s great! Then it’s settled,” he agreed. “We’ll play Quidditch tomorrow, and then resign after the match, gentlemen.” He turned to Hermione and Severus who’d been listening. “We’ll all meet up at The Hogshead after the game. A private party if you want to come.”
“We will keep it in mind, Mister Potter,” Severus told him.
Then Hermione added, “You can have my room for the remainder of your time here if you want it.”
“Thanks,” Harry said, starting for the door.
Chapter 15: Leaving Hogwarts
Notes:
Disclaimer:- I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.
~~~***~~~
A/N:- Thank you all for your comments and kudos for the last chapter, I appreciate them all. Thank you also to, Golden Asp, for the beta work on this chapter. This chapter is where this story starts to earn its MA rating, yes, we’re finally here, and Lucius will be making an appearance soon (not this chapter) as well.
Chapter Text
At seven fifty-five, Hermione met Severus in the office between their quarters. She was going to the meeting with him in the headmistress’ office, and if anyone objected they could lump it.
“Do you have everything?” he asked, his eyes panning over her traditional robes. He watched her nod and pat her robe pocket, and he pulled her into his arms. “You look lovely.”
She laughed softly. She’d decided to dress traditionally as she wanted to feel as equal to the others present as possible. “Thank you,” she replied softly. “I have my normal clothes on underneath,” she confided.
“I’m hoping that won’t be the case for long once we’ve left,” he murmured into her hair.
She smiled. “Me too, but we better get going. I have the urge to pull you down on top of me right here on the desk, so don’t tempt me.”
“Indeed,” Severus murmured. “Then I believe that I may have an equally suitable desk in my study at home that we could use if that is your desire,” and he patted her bottom and started leading her to the door. “And you are correct, we need to get this over with as quickly as possible. After the way my control collapsed when you were hit with that door tonight…” He looked her over once more. “Are you ready?”
“Very much so,” she replied, smirking at him.
“Minx,” he replied, offering his arm. “Shall we take a short cut?”
“Charmed, Headmaster,” she giggled, taking his arm.
~~~***~~~
They landed at the inner door of the headmaster’s office, at the top of the moving stairs, and Severus knocked brusquely before simply walking in. As they entered the office, they heard Professor Ross say, “It is totally inappropriate, Aunt Minerva.”
“What is totally inappropriate?” he asked, and then feigned surprise. “I do hope we have not interrupted something, Minerva,” he stated, completely unapologetic.
Minerva stood as soon as they’d entered and opened her mouth to speak, but her niece decided to take matters into her own hands.
“You slut!” she screamed at Hermione.
Of course, this was an incredible stupid thing to do. Hermione’s wand slipped easily into her hand and she blocked the hex that followed. She calmly stepped away from Severus and she took a step towards the other witch.
“My apologies for what I am about to say, Ma’am,” she said to McGonagall, “but I’ve well and truly had enough of idiots blaming me for things I have not done.” She turned back to Apolline and said, “You are most probably not aware of where I sit in the scheme of things, Ms Ross, so allow me to inform you. I am not Harry Potter’s lover, nor am I Draco Malfoy’s lover. However, as soon as I leave here, I am going to be Severus Snape’s lover, and under those circumstances I will only tell you this once. I started fighting a war when I was eleven years old, I have grown up being tempered by conflict and hate. I have fought and defeated many Death Eaters during that time, and if you make one more play for my wizard, or attempt to throw anymore hexes at me you will seriously regret it.”
Hermione could see how weak this woman was as she cowered slightly, but her nasty expression told the Gryffindor witch to watch her as she turned towards McGonagall. “I will not be returning next term, Ma’am. I have discovered a far more satisfying and vast wealth of knowledge elsewhere and it has made attaining my NEWT levels redundant. I would appreciate you having my academic record transferred into Muggle terms and owled to number twelve Grimmauld Place, please.”
Minerva sighed, but gave in surprisingly easily. However, as she finished agreeing that she could do that, Hermione saw a movement out of the corner of her eyes, and her eyes narrowed. “I did warn you,” she stated to the Potions teacher, and erected a shield around herself before the hexes had even left the witch’s wand.
There was a pained shriek as they rebounded off Hermione’s shield and straight back to the caster. Suddenly Apolline Ross stood there as bald as a badger with festering boils covering her body. Her teeth had all turned into fangs that crowded her mouth, and her eyebrows were so long that they covered her eyes.
She ran to the Floo shouting out for her quarters, but who knew where she ended up because she couldn’t speak properly around her new mouthful of pointed teeth.
McGonagall watched on in horror, but knew that you didn’t meddle with Hermione Granger, and besides all Hermione had done was shield herself.
Hermione managed not to laugh, even as she heard a quietly swallowed chuckled behind her. As cool as a cucumber, she looked back to McGonagall. “Well, I did warn her... and my, what a cocktail of nasty curses,” she commented, an eyebrow aloft.
Minerva sighed, and seemed to unfurl a little as her lip twitched upward slightly. “Yes, you did, lass.” She then glanced at Severus and back to Hermione. “I’m sorry, Hermione, I feel like I’ve let you down this term.”
“Minerva?” Severus cut in, seeing the witch turning a little pale. “Are you certain that you’re well?”
“No, I’m not that certain actually. The castle still recognises you as the headmaster, doesn’t it?”
“I did not ask it to, but it seems to believe that I still am, yes.”
“And it has cut me off at every turn. It’s wearing me down, Severus.” She looked at him, but then took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was unaware that it was impacting on you, and I wished to keep my private domain just that, private.”
“Typical,” Minerva snorted. “Secretive Slytherins.”
“Minerva, we are what we are, and blaming your strange behaviour this term on me is not solving anything. In any case, I believe now that I’m officially resigning that it may change things.” He wasn’t going to tell her that he’d already alerted Arcturus Rosier to the fact that Minerva had been acting suspiciously, nor that he informed him that Apolline Ross was a sub-standard teacher. These things could be dealt with by the board once he was gone.
Minerva was just opening her mouth to speak again when the Floo chimed. She sighed and turned towards it. “Yes?” she called.
“Arcturus Rosier, for a meeting with the headmistress and Professor Snape.”
“Step through, Arcturus,” Minerva told him.
“Good evening, Minerva,” the elderly pureblood greeted as he dusted his robes off. Then he looked around the room. “Severus,” he nodded, and then he spied Hermione. “Ah, and you must be Miss Granger. I am prodigiously pleased to meet you. Arcturus Rosier.”
“Sir,” Hermione replied, shaking his offered hand.
He turned back to Minerva. “Well, let’s get this dealt with so these young people can be on their way.”
Minerva gestured that they should all sit down, and Hermione and Severus Floo’d away fifteen minutes later with Severus having finished his contract. He’d not had any classes the next day, so he was released from term a day early.
However, Hermione and Severus had not left before Arcturus had asked if he would consider staying as headmaster, and he’d turned to Minerva once the words were out of his mouth to see her looking at him with horror written on her features. “My dear,” he told her. “It is very obvious to me that you need a rest, perhaps even a spell in St. Mungos where it can be ascertained if you are indeed suffering from some malaise.”
“I assure you, Arcturus, I am perfectly capable of running this school,” she replied haughtily.
It was at this point that Severus cut in. “I beg to differ, Minerva, I think you should take the offered sabbatical and allow Filius to run the school next term,” and he glanced at Arcturus on saying this. “Thank you, Arcturus, but I have no wish to run this school. I have a desire for private research now I have the facilities to devote myself to it, and we had best leave you to it.” He stood and offered Hermione his hand. “Come, my dear,” he stated softly.
She rose and allowed him to lead her to the Floo.
~~~***~~~
When he’d given their destination to the Floo, Hermione had been shocked to hear him say ‘Prince Hall’ as she’d thought that his mother’s family had disowned him, but she stepped out into a well-appointed arrival chamber.
Severus stepped out behind her as she was looking around, and his arms curled around her from behind. “Welcome to my home,” he murmured, nuzzling her ear as his hands unfastened her cloak, which had materialised around her shoulders on her command before they’d left. “Come,” he instructed, and with a hand in the middle of her back he led her from the apparition parlour into a well-lit entrance hall.
To Hermione’s surprise there was a large Christmas tree in the curve of the stairwell, and garlands extending the full way up the banister of the stairs. She looked up at the huge crystal candelabra hanging from the ceiling and gasped. “Wow!”
“This was the home of my mother’s family. I inherited it two years ago.”
“Gracious,” Hermione murmured. “It’s beautiful.”
“There is something more beautiful that I’d very much like to see,” he countered.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“You, spread out naked on my bed,” he whispered into her ear. “Hermione, you will discover now we are free to act, I am a passionate and in some respects insatiable man.”
She smiled seductively at him. “Then the remainder of the tour can wait,” she said. “Lead the way,” and she wound her arms up around his neck.
His mouth covered hers as she felt the pull of apparition. When they landed they stood kissing for some time before he broke their kiss and smiled as he backed her towards his bed.
She stopped as her knees contacted cool silk, looking up at Severus and pulling him down for another kiss as she shimmied backwards.
He followed her onto the bed as his hands started with her buttons, and as he did so he leant around, nuzzling her ear. Then he murmured into it. “Did you like the dream I wove into the seal of the letter I sent you with the papers?”
“Yes,” she answered instantly, and it made her mind click back into gear through the cloud of lust. “It was the most potent sexual experience I’ve ever had. It has left me wanting much more of you.” She took a breath. “Severus?”
He pulled back enough to see her face in the soft light of the room, hearing her unspoken question in the tone of her voice. “Yes?”
“The contents of the chest… I’m overwhelmed by it.”
He gave her a knowing smile that made her stomach curl with want.
She returned his smile as he said, “It helped me remain sane, being able to hide something from them all when everything else had to be so open and scrutinised. You were my special little secret,” he told her, kissing her again.
He’d managed to undo her blouse as they’d been talking and his hands now parted the material and started caressing her breasts as he kissed her.
Hermione knew there was more that she wanted to say but she was just too turned on at the moment to think of anything, and all that came out of her mouth was an inarticulate noise.
Severus chuckled darkly, and he became impatient with undressing her and vanished her clothing as well as most of his own.
She sighed and smiled at him as she felt her naked body coming into contact with the cool of the silk bedspread. At some time whilst they’d been talking and undressing he’d made the fire spring into life, and regardless of the fact that it was near Christmas the room was warm and comfortable.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes ravenously drinking in her body. “Just as I imagined you’d be,” he said, sitting back on his heels and ghosting his longest finger up and down the cleft between her legs as he spoke. She was mostly as nature had intended her to be, but bare on the edges, presumably in deference to the line of her dance costumes, and he thought she looked perfect. He gazed at the delicious hints of her rosy flesh visible through the guarding thatch of hair, and found himself very pleased. Then his finger started teasing up and down, and it made the most delicious squelching noises as he gently ploughed it through her soft wet flesh. She was so soft and silky, her breasts were heaving, her eyes were closed and she was murmuring words of encouragement to him.
Her legs started opening further in invitation, and he smiled. “But I do not want you on your back, my sweet. Come,” and he moved, laying down on his back on the bed. “Kneel over my face and show me your pretty cunt properly.”
She missed his caresses as soon as they stopped, but smiling, scrambling to her knees and crawling herself up to his head where she did as he asked. She watched him inhale her scent, and then his fingers parted her, pulling her labia away so he had a bird’s eye view of what he wanted to see.
He’d wanted to see her like this for weeks, and his first glimpse of the rosy inner petals that surrounding her gapping, pulsing sex was not a disappointment. He’d always loved everything about a woman’s most secret femininity, and his mouth could not wait any longer.
Hermione instantly forgot how to think, and how to breathe as he drove his tongue up into her. He fluttered it up inside of her while holding her open with his thumbs, flicking back and forth repeatedly over her clit.
“Oh my god,” she gasped. He was playing her like an exquisite musical instrument, and it felt so good she was helpless. She lay her head on his groin and rubbed the hardness she found there with her cheek; that was as much as she could manage. Never had anyone made her brain shut down like this from just having their tongue inside her pussy.
She started squealing and flexing her hips in time with his lips and he chuckled against her, sending sensation spiralling up through her and she knew she was close, so close that his next lick sent her careening over the edge into the most toe-curling orgasm she’d had in a long time. She simply lay on top of him as she came down, and even when she felt him lifting her and shimmying out from under her she couldn’t move.
Then he was behind her and she heard him undoing his last piece of clothing. “Did you like that?” he questioned as the bed dipped again and he rubbed himself up and down her excited slit.
“Mmm,” she managed. “Fuck me,” she murmured, pushing back against him.
“Gladly,” he replied, chuckling and he pushed into her.
She groaned; it felt so good and she squeezed her internal muscles hoping that it would get him to move. It worked, and he started pumping in and out of her strongly.
Being behind was his favourite position; it was easier to watch his cock ramming in and out. It had been some time since he’d been with a woman, and he found very quickly that this witch was the most delicious partner that he’d been with for ages, and soon he was reciting heat tolerances in his head to stave off coming and finishing before he was ready.
Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for him to find that even boring heat charts were not overcoming his urge to come, and his thrusts became erratic as he lost the fight. Then her next orgasm was washing over her, and her inner muscles were squeezing and pulsing around his cock so deliciously that he knew he was about to lose it. He whined low and long as he slammed into her one more time and gave in to the bliss of coming inside her.
When it was over, the only thing holding Hermione up was Severus’ grip on her hips. She was so boneless that she couldn’t stay up right.
He chuckled at her and rolled her onto her back. He pushed her legs wide apart and watched his seed dribbling out. “Watch me in the mirrors,” he told her.
Hermione looked up and saw that the under canopy of the four poster bed there were mirrors, and she groaned as she spied the sight he was looking at. “That’s so beautifully dirty,” she sighed.
“You’ll find that I’m a very debauched wizard. There’s not much in the way of carnal pleasure that I don’t enjoy.” He was still watching the thick viscous liquid sliding out of her with eager eyes. Then he leant down and started licking her again, relishing in their shared fluids.
Once he’d finished, he licked and kissed up her body before latching on to one of her as yet neglected nipples, and this time as he lined himself up and entered her, he curled his tongue around the rosy nub of flesh and sucked in time to his thrusts.
The pleasure that Hermione felt was almost overwhelming. She was pleased that she was laying down and she caressed her breasts, pushing them together to make it easier for him to lick and suck at both of them as he continued to pump in and out of her.
He worked like a madman with his mouth on her breasts, thrusting in and out of her, and she climaxed twice more and he kept thrusting through. After the latest orgasm she was a babbling mess of incoherent noises, and unbelievably his finger arrived on her clit, demanding another orgasm from her, which to her surprise she was helpless to deny. Then, and only then did he give in and come again.
They both lay there completely spent for some time before Severus cleaned them both of the mess they’d made, and then pulled the covers up and kissed her good night as he curled up behind her, pulling her to him with his arm possessively around her waist.
~~~***~~~
As Hermione and Severus were sinking into exhausted sleep, Harry was dealing with Ron’s latest spiteful defection. To be honest he’d expected it, but it still stung.
“I still don’t understand how you could not want Ginny? What you’ve done to her now is cruel,” Ron yelled.
“What I’ve done to her?” Harry gasped in a heated voice. “Mate, I haven’t done anything to her, she’s brought all of this on herself.”
“You could have been more supportive,” Ron countered.
“More supportive? Ron, you must be kidding. Ginny took out an irrational campaign against ‘Mione. I was just plain wrong. ‘Mione’s like a sister to me, we’ve never had any interest in each other beyond friendship.”
“So why aren’t you goin’ out with Ginny then?” Ron demanded.
“You truly are blind, aren’t you?” Harry said, disappointment clouding his voice. Ron just stared at him, and he found himself looking at his friend with new eyes. He had obviously blocked out what he’d seen in Lisbon, not able to believe it. “I think you know why,” Harry said softly. To his surprise Ron sneered and he knew that nothing was salvageable.
Ron turned away, and Harry sighed. “So, are you going to play tomorrow, or not?”
“No,” Ron replied in a clipped voice. “I’m goin’ home to help Mum as soon as classes finish.” He glanced around at Harry with narrowed eyes, but remained facing the wall. “I wish you and ‘Mione had never come back, we were much better off without you,” he muttered and then said, “I’m tired, piss off and let me sleep. Freak!”
Harry stared at his back for a few more moments and then grabbed the remainder of what was his and walked to the window. Throwing it open he was on his broom and gone before Ron had even turned around.
So he did remember. He knew why Ron had called him a freak, and once again he saw the look of horror that had been on Ron’s face that night like it had been yesterday and not the best part of two years ago. Like he hadn’t seen it a million times already inside his head, but it seemed to be burned onto the screen of his mind. It had been the reason that Ron had left them, and now as he flew at breakneck speed into the icy wind that promised snow for Christmas, he remembered his very mixed feelings about that night.
That night had been preceded by a blistering day. The three of them had been in Lisbon for about a week, and Harry had met Ramon the day after they’d arrived. The pair of them had hit it off immediately, and that night they’d gone out to dinner. Ron and Hermione had not been with them, but as often happened Ron had upset Hermione and once she’d told him to bugger off, he’d come looking for Harry.
Harry had been very happy; Ramon had been the first guy he’d met since Gerald in London before they’d gone on the run. They’d had a wonderful dinner, probably a little too much wine, but they’d both known what they were doing.
They’d gone down to the beach for some privacy, and Harry recalled that it had been the first time that he had been able to be in sand dunes without the horror of the war invading this thoughts, as it often did in those early days. He’d finally managed to forget, and the reason was because such pleasure had been short-circuiting all his thinking processes.
Ramon was lovely, and Harry was on the bottom. He loved being on the bottom, it made him feel more feminine. Of course he was aware that heterosexual couples did not just use missionary position, but he liked it, and then he thought about his other secret.
As he flew he shook his head. “Fuck, if things weren’t weird enough,” he muttered, his teeth starting to chatter slightly, and he flew towards the bar.
When he arrived, Ollie was just closing up.
“Hey, Harry,” he started. “We had a slow night, tonight,” but he could see that Harry was out of sorts, and he sighed. He often came in late looking like he didn’t have a friend in the world, and Ollie was often there to pick up the pieces.
“Yeah, well I don’t mind,” Harry shrugged, his pain and confusion evident on his face.
“You look like you could use a shoulder,” Oliver stated.
Harry snorted. “I’ve just had a fight with Ron. He’s decided that he’s not playing with us tomorrow. He’s so bloody pig-headed.”
Oliver sighed. “He’s a Weasley,” and he poured them each a large glass of whisky.
“He’s also very touchy about anything gay,” Harry replied, in what seemed to be off the subject.
“Oh!” Ollie said knowingly.
Harry laughed. “How the bloody hell did you work out so much from what I’ve just told you?”
Oliver chuckled. “Harry, I’ve known you since you were eleven. We’ve been friends for years.”
“Yeah, I guess we have, haven’t we?” Harry stated dumbly. He picked up his glass off the bar and downed the contents. “I’m just so over Ron, the only thing I feel for him at present is anger. Most, and perhaps even all the respect I ever had for him, is gone.”
“Then it’s time to move on, isn’t it?” Ollie said, refilling their glasses. “Are you planning to tell him about this place?” he added, waving the bottle around.
“Don’t know,” and Harry ran his hands through his hair messing it up more than it usually was. “I guess I will. What the hell, maybe it’s time for the grand opening. I’ve felt incredibly guilty keeping the secret from him anyway. I know he’d love it here, and ‘Mione has moved on.” He took a healthy swig of his drink. “She’s gone home with Snape… Bloody Snape!” Then he sighed again. “She does seem to adore him though, but I can’t help thinking that it’d be like going home with a viper. Don’t get me wrong, I have every respect for the man,” he added quickly, holding his hands up.
Oliver chuckled. “He still rattles you, doesn’t he?”
“Bloody oath!” Then he snorted. “But he’s so possessive of her that I just know he adores her too, so I guess I’m fine with it.” Harry smiled wistfully. “I saw something tonight that I never thought I’d see.”
“What was that?” Ollie asked.
“Hermione was accidentally hit by the door as she was leaving The Great Hall, and Snape almost had a fit. I’ve never seen him like that.”
“Is she all right?”
“Yeah, he’d fixed her up before we even got there,” Harry nodded. “But it was the beginning of the end really... for ‘Mione anyway.”
“The end?”
“The sequence of events that saw her and Snape quitting and leaving,” and finally a yawn overcame Harry’s control. “I think it might be time to turn in. I’m going to sleep in my office.”
“Okay, mate. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ollie said, taking the hint as Harry got up and wandered into his office. “You know,” he said before Harry got to the door. “I like talking like this to you.”
Harry stopped and turned. “Yeah, well I like talking to you too. You’re my rock, you know?”
Oliver smiled at him. “Bet you tell that to all the guys,” and he winked and chuckled. He watched Harry take in his flirtatious comment, and then he finished locking up as he considered that it was good to have Harry back. And Merlin isn’t he hot to trot, his mind told him. He took one last glance at the door to Harry’s office. He even turned around to go and knock on it, but then he thought better of it and apparated away.
Chapter 16: An Unexpected Surprise
Notes:
Disclaimer:- I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.
~~~***~~~
A/N:- Thank you all for your comments and kudos for the last chapter, I appreciate them all. Thank you also to, Golden Asp, for the beta work on this chapter. I have to add here that Golden Asp tells me that the new character that comes in this chapter is a little out-of-left-field, and I apologise if anyone thinks so, but I wanted it to feel like a surprise (hence the title of the chapter).
Chapter Text
Harry smiled as he locked himself into his office and flopped down on the lounge in the corner. The wind was whistling around the building, rattling the window and howling in the attic, but to Harry this moment was blissful. He loved being alone like this, and he wished for perhaps the millionth time that he felt more comfortable at Grimmauld Place, but he simply missed Sirius’ presence there too much.
He shot a spell at the grate and a cheerful fire started roaring as he toed his boots off. “Bugger Ron and all his bloody hang ups,” he muttered, still angry even though he had a pleasant amount to fuzziness humming around his brain from the whisky. Flopping down on the lounge in front of the fire he laced his hands behind his head and reflected on what Ron had said before he’d left Hogwarts tonight. Harry also wished that he and Hermione had not returned, this had all proven to be a complete waste of their time.
Then he chuckled to himself—although he wasn’t so sure about Hermione’s thought on the matter—he suspected that she’d had an ulterior motive for returning. Even for someone as studious as Hermione too much time had passed for it to be easy to go back to school, and she’d ummed and ahhed only agreeing to return as soon as it was confirmed that Snape was going to be teaching her. “Well she’s got what she wanted now, hasn't she?” and he chuckled. Then he set his mind to wondering what impact her new relationship might have on her ability to perform as Raven; Snape was one very possessive son of a bitch.
Another sigh passed his lips and he decided to make himself more comfortable. The room was warming up and he was alone. Getting up he discarded his outer robes and jacket before going to his desk on the other side of the room and unlocking one of the drawers. Turning around he drew the curtain on the only window and pulled what he needed from the drawer before going back to stand by the fire.
He stripped off completely, savouring the warmth of the fire on his bare skin, and he took a moment to take in his reflection in the mirror above the mantle. His earlier thoughts of Ramon had made him slightly hard, and Ollie’s flirting had lit a new—and somewhat unexpected—fire in him. He took in his smooth torso, running his hand over himself before smirking and starting to dress, pulling on his treasured silk pyjamas.
Harry loved the feel of silk against his skin, but because he’d been—well until the last few nights—living in a male dormitory he hadn’t dared wear them. He still hadn’t worn them even when he’d moved in with Hermione, because there was a very important part of his life that he hadn’t come clean about yet, even to her. He wasn’t certain if Ron had told her anything about what he’d seen that night in Lisbon, but he would bet that he hadn’t. Finding the guy you thought of as your best mate laying back in the sand dunes having his cock sucked by another guy was not the type of thing you told anyone, especially if you were shocked by it.
“Well, it could have been a lot worse,” he chuckled, climbing back onto the lounge after spreading the fluffy blanket from the arm over it. Sliding his legs against one another and moaning softly at the feeling of it, he summoned two shrunken pillows and a silk covered doona from the drawer in his desk that had contained the pyjamas. He settled himself comfortably and then he turned his attention to the situation he now had in his pants and after stroking it for a moment he pulled the waist band down to expose his rock-hard prick.
The cool air curling around his rigid appendage made it twitch and harden further and he smiled proudly down at his rather stellar cock as it stood to attention, weeping from its slit after having his silk pants caressing it. “Shit I’ve missed privacy,” he muttered and wrapped his hand around his shaft, whispering, “Lubricus,” before he started stroking up and down with his closed fist as he undid the buttons of his shirt to caress his chest.
His hand soon slipped down to fondle his balls as he stroked himself and he watched his hand moving over his length. He was now so turned on that it didn’t take long and he groaned deep in the back of his throat as thick ropes of cum erupted from him, landing on his stomach. He kept pumping himself as he came; he loved wanking, and he’d denied himself this term. “Well, no more,” he said in a breathy voice. “This is more like it,” he murmured, and his hand started moving slowly again as he thought about things. He’d missed Oli’s interest in him, but maybe he shouldn’t have. He exhaled as he thought, this term has been really difficult, and he watched his hand caressing his tool. Mind you, I’ve made some unexpected friends. Who would have thought that Hermione and me would be going into business with a bunch of Slytherins.
Then his mind went back to Oli, and his hand picked up speed, he would have to see where that led, because when he thought about it, his manager was one hell of a sexy wizard. He groaned as he brought himself off again and finally tiredness over took him, and he yawned and curled up under the covers after banishing the mess he’d made.
~~~***~~~
Hermione was not certain what time it was when she was being woken by her wizard with his head between her legs and his tongue busily licking again.
She knew it was morning because there was light filtering in through the curtains, but she didn’t really care past that, and she moaned softly in her sleep and opened her legs wider. His hands came up as she did so and started massaging her breasts, and he woke her up, bringing her to orgasm. The noises of it were lovely, and she pulled him to her, wrapping her legs around his middle and guiding his mouth to hers.
“I love being woken like that,” she whispered.
He chuckled into her mouth, as he guided his cock into her. “You’re not sore, are you?” he asked softly.
“A little,” she admitted, “but I want you,” she moaned. This man was such a fierce and mercurial man, but he was allowing her to see his soft vulnerable side and she was so happy.
He smiled and claimed her mouth as he slowly pulled out only to push back in again just as slowly. It made her sigh softly. The pace was so slow, but so lovely; she could feel every inch of him as he pushed into her, every ridge and vein of his shaft as it slid across her slippery, eager flesh.
The control it took to maintain the torturous pace and build the ache inside her astounded her, and she thought momentarily that she might die before the throbbing tension broke and bliss rippled outwards from it and made her scream in release. It was only after he’d brought her to this climax that he gave in and set up a different rhythm as he searched for his own release.
Shifting her legs with his hands around her inner thighs, he pushed them out and up, effectively folding her in half and opening her completely to him, pleased that her dancer’s body was so flexible; yes, he was going to enjoy being this witch’s lover, and with that thought he felt his climax approaching and started pounding into her. He was silent, always silent, but his mouth opened into a silent ‘o’ of pleasure as he felt himself slip into bliss.
After they’d laid there recovering in pleasant abandon for some time, Severus stepped out of the bed and lifted her, carrying her into the bathroom. “A bath is in order, I think.”
“Yes,” she replied, surprised with herself that she was allowing him to carry her. She’d heard the water start as they’d left the bed and as Severus placed her in the bath she sank to her knees. She hadn’t had a good look at him yet, and now as he stood beside the bath she was determined to do so.
Her hands wrapped around his thick manhood and then one hand scooted back to fondle his heavy sack. She watched him coming to life once more under her hands, and she reflected that he might have been right when he said he was insatiable.
He stepped into the bath and she turned to keep her hands on him. She giggled and grabbed the soap and started lathering his very impressive tool. Her hands worked, sliding over him as the soap washed him, and the wash cloth from the side of the tub cleaned and caressed him.
Finally, she rinsed the soap off and her mouth started exploring him. She licked his cock from base to tip, swirling her tongue over the head. “Mmm,” she moaned, her eyes looking up to see him watching her. Smiling, she worked her mouth back down his length and then pushed it up out of the way and started sucking on his balls as her hand pumped his shaft.
Her eyes never left his as she lathed him with her tongue and mouth. “Severus,” she hummed, and felt him twitch under her hands. Very soon she had him grunting as she worked, while he thrust his cock in and out of her hand.
It was delicious. She was brilliant at working him, and his legs were having trouble holding him up by the time she left his bollocks and engulfed his cock with her mouth again. He only lasted seconds once she had him in her mouth, and he grunted as he lost himself in pleasure, roaring his release.
Hermione watched him sag and quickly helped him to sit safely, gratified that she’d made him vocalise his pleasure. She allowed him to recover while she straddled his lap, using a wash cloth to clean and caress the rest of him. Then reaching forward she grabbed the bottle of shampoo from behind him to lather his hair.
As she leant forward her wet breasts brushed by his face, and his eyes opened and he smiled. “You are perfect,” he murmured to her, capturing a nipple in his mouth as she grabbed the hair care products.
She laughed gently and started washing his hair, massaging his skull as he suckled at her.
“Come closer,” he urged softly, and his hand came forward to cover her pussy. He smiled around her tit as his fingers went up inside her and he pulled them in and out as he suckled. “You may continue to wash my hair,” he said, and he closed his eyes again.
Hermione managed to wash his hair with his mouth wrapped around her nipple and his fingers plying her so perfectly, but as she smoothed the conditioner over his hair her legs started to shake violently, and she began moaning and mewing her pleasure.
The bath was so warm and inviting, and they simply sat there recovering once they were clean. Severus pulled Hermione against him, across his lap, and it was only hunger that drove them from their warm haven.
When they arrived back into the bedroom, breakfast was set out on a small table next to a window that overlooked the gardens.
“So, I take it you have elves,” Hermione snickered softly.
“Does that bother you?”
“It has been my experience that elves are not well treated by their masters.”
His eyebrow rose and he pursed his lips. “My elves—like most elves—have everything they could ever want. They are cared for and satisfied. I hope that you have not based your entire experience of house elves on one malcontent.”
“Dobby?” and her eyes were narrowing as she said it.
“Yes,” he said, putting on a black robe as he turned to watch her fishing her own out of the wardrobe next to his before collecting some food from the plates in the middle of the table.
“But he was constantly punishing himself,” Hermione said passionately.
Severus sighed. “Have you ever considered that he may have had a problem? Look, I will grant you that the Malfoy family have not always been the nicest, but most of their elves are content and well cared for. As are the ones at Hogwarts and here.” He took in her disbelieving attitude, and he leaned across the table and cupped her cheek with one hand. “Hermione, I’m not saying that elves are never abused, sometimes they are, but it is the exception rather than the rule.”
“Then I’ll be certain to take more notice and see. Thank you for pointing out my error to me,” she stated stiffly.
“Hermione, don’t be like that. I do not want you to have a mistaken notion, or start to try and free any of my elves. They would be horrified and take it as a personal failing that they were being offered clothes.”
She was silent for some moments as she pushed some food around her plate, but then she looked up at him seriously. “Is that why elves are so wary of me? Because they think I’m going to try and free them?”
“If that is your experience, then yes they probably are. They do not want to be free.”
“Dobby was proud to be free.”
“I believe that Dobby may have been an exception. Most elves wither away and eventually die if they’re not being of service to others.”
Hermione nodded. “Yes, I do know of an elf that happened to, but she was abused.”
“As I said, I’m not saying that it doesn’t happen.”
Hermione sighed and nodded as she tentatively started eating.
Severus watched her and knew that he’d upset her, but she had to be set straight about these things. It was simply a lack of knowledge in wizarding ways that was holding her back.
He also noticed that when she sat that she’d done so gingerly, and he changed the subject. “After breakfast I’m going to pamper you a little.”
“Why?”
He smiled. “You’re sorer than you let on, Madam,” he said simply. “Now, back into bed with you. I’ll be back in a moment,” Severus told her. “I do not want you uncomfortable, we’re still on a promise to find the perfect desk later.”
Hermione smiled knowingly at him. “Yes, I’d enjoy that.”
“Excellent,” he said, heading for the door.
He came back with a healing potion and then climbed in beside her, and after he’d tended her soreness they quickly cuddled up and went back to sleep.
~~~***~~~
Harry woke the next morning to the sound of bottles clinking out in the bar. He blinked and glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. It was only seven thirty. He shot a spell at the fire to make it burn higher and he buried his head under the covers.
However, the noises persisted, and then he heard Ollie rattling around in the kitchen and he decided that he should get up. The only down side to sleeping in his office was that there was no shower, but then he remembered that he could take his things back to Grimmauld Place, because even if he disliked it there, term… school was really over for him.
He sighed. He knew that he should not be master of it because Sirius should be still here, and the most un-nerving part was that he had never accepted that Sirius was really gone, because the house had not accepted him as its master. Dumbledore had tried to coach it into accepting Harry, but he had abruptly stopped unexpectedly, saying that if it was to continue to serve as Order headquarters it must remain as it was. Harry had often wondered since then what the old headmaster had sensed in the house wards, but he’d known better than to ask.
Running his hand through his hair, his fingers snagged on the knots in it and pulled. “Bugger,” Harry muttered, and stood up. He turned around and shank the bed linen, levitating it back to his desk drawer, which he locked again before taking his trunk through the Floo with him to Grimmauld Place.
Walking out into the kitchen, he expected it to be dark and cold. To his surprise, Kreacher greeted him cheerfully and he was just getting over that shock when he heard a noise in the entranceway coming towards the kitchen.
His wand slapped into his hand and he prepared to meet whoever was in his house without permission, but his binding hex died on his lips when the doorway was suddenly filled with a sleep-tousled shirtless Sirius Black.
“Sirius?” Harry gasped. “Where the fuck…” but then his mind snapped into gear. “Who the fuck are you? You can’t be my godfather!”
Striking grey eyes met Harry’s. “Why can’t I be?” Sirius’ voice said.
“No! I watched that bitch kill you,” Harry continued, tears already welling in his eyes.
“The Veil sucked me in before the curse hit me,” Sirius stated.
“I want to believe it’s you, b-but…” and his words trailed off.
“Harry, it is me,” Sirius insisted.
But this made Harry angry. “If it’s you, where have you been for the last four years?” he demanded.
Sirius rubbed his head and gave his godson a puzzled expression. “To tell the truth I’m not certain.” He sighed. “Limbo would probably describe it best. I was alone, I know that,” he said as he walked forward to the kitchen table and picked up a packet of Muggle cigarettes. “Kreacher! Coffee,” he demanded.
“Yes, master,” the elf replied.
“Limbo? So, inside The Veil?” Harry asked, watching him light his fag and inhale deeply.
“Yes, and last night the bloody irritating magical artefact unceremoniously spat me back out into the same room I’d left from… but I was alone,” he replied, exhaling a plume of smoke. He took another drag and looked at Harry before pulling him into a fierce hug.
Harry finally relinquished and admitted that it had to be Sirius. This was all just too much like him.
“Shit it’s good to see you,” Sirius continued, now holding him at arm’s length. “I was going to come and find you today. Kreacher told me you’d…” but he suddenly changed tack. “Why the bloody hell are you still at Hogwarts?”
Sitting down at the table, Harry accepted a cup of coffee from Kreacher and took a steadying gulp before he started telling Sirius what had happened.
“The school has only just opened again. The war has been won now for over two years, but things have been slow to come back into working order again. ‘Mione and me have been travelling while we waited for things to happen.”
Sirius nodded. “You and ‘Mione? What happened to Ginny?”
“No, no, no, it’s nothing like that. ‘Mione is my best friend, like my sister… She’s recently become attached to Snape,” Harry said earnestly.
“What?” Sirius replied. “Snivellus? How could you let that happen?” he said angrily.
That was when Harry remembered how Sirius had victimised Snape, just like Ron was doing to him at the moment and he realised that it was a terrible thing. He shook his head. “Look, Sirius, I’m really pleased to have you back, but the professor singlehandedly won the war for us. I will not have you saying anything against him, and ‘Mione has suffered enough, they’re happy. We must respect that,” he said.
Sirius looked at Harry with disbelieving eyes. “What’s happened to make you change like this?”
Harry took a deep breath and said, “I’ve fought a war where almost everyone deserted me. The only people who didn’t were Hermione and Snape.”
“Oh, you must be kidding,” Sirius scoffed. “What the fuck did that greasy death eater do?”
“Well, it’s simple, after Dumbledore’s death he kept working tirelessly to support me. He provided us with the tool that allowed us to finish the task Dumbledore set us. If we hadn’t been able to do that then we’d only have another stalemate like we had between the first and second wars. Voldemort is gone for good now, Sirius.”
Kreacher placed plates of food in front of them and Sirius started to eat while he considered this information. “What about Ron? He’s your best mate.”
Harry shook his head and shrugged, picking at the food in front of him. “Ron has disagreed with my life choices. He’s turned out to be very small-minded, and I’m sick of his abuse. We’re no longer friends really.”
“Abuse?”
“Yes, I’ve now got some idea of what it must have been like for the professor when you and my father used to torment him, and it’s not fun.”
“It was only harmless fun, we were school kids,” Sirius replied, his aristocratic smile easily slipping into place.
“No, what you did to Snape was bullying at its worst. None of us are school kids anymore. We’re adults now. I had hoped that Ron would have been more mature about things, but he doesn’t seem capable of it.” He looked squarely at Sirius. “I hope you are.”
Sirius had the grace to look chastened. He knew that he’d victimised Snape for years, but he’d deserved it. He’d… Screw me, Sirius thought. What the fuck did he do to deserve it? This all started because James wanted a crack at Lily and Snape was her friend. Oh, fuck me, Harry’s right. It did get a bit out of hand. He lit another cigarette. “But it was just for fun,” he muttered, unaware that he’d said it out loud.
However, Harry jumped on it. “Fun! Look, far be it from me to be Snape’s champion—and I firmly believe that he doesn’t need one—but you marauders made his life hell.”
“Has he told you that?” Sirius demanded.
“He doesn’t know I know,” Harry replied. “I’ve pieced the information together from what you and Remus have said. From what Dumbledore didn’t say and from an episode in my Occlumency lessons with the man himself. There were four of you, and he was a poor, dispossessed, introverted bookworm. He was not a threat to any of you, yet from the moment you met him you hated him. Why?”
“Why do you care?” Sirius asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Because I will not abide anyone, even you, making life hard for Hermione. She deserves the best of everything for the sacrifices she made, and if she wants Snape then…” and he shrugged. “Besides, I’ve seen a different side of him this last term, now that he’s not bound to act like a git.”
“I’ll admit that you’ve made some good points, Harry, but it will take a lot for me not to see him as a git,” Sirius laughed.
“But you will try?”
“I’ll steer clear of him, okay?”
“All I’m asking is that you try to see over your preconceived ideas. A lot has changed since the war, and the only way forward is for us to change with it. Be more tolerant and allow for each other’s differences. There are no evil gits running around anymore.” Although, this made him snort softly. “Well, no really dangerous ones, anyway.”
Sirius smiled. “Okay, let it not be said that Sirius Black cannot change with things,” and he saluted Harry. “I will do my best.” He refilled his coffee. “Now, to the important things. I’ve satisfied my cravings for fags, whisky and sleep, and I’m planning to spend the day shagging.” Then he laughed. “Maybe the whole weekend. What are your plans?”
“I’m going to play in a Quidditch exhibition at Hogwarts and then I’m having the grand opening of my new sports bar in Hogsmeade.”
“You own a bar?”
“I bought The Hogshead, and I’ve renovated it.”
“So why do you need to be at Hogwarts?”
“You mean as a student?” He watched Sirius nod, and Harry barked a laugh. “I’m not going back next term. It’s proven to be a terrible mistake to try and go backwards. After the Quidditch match this afternoon I’m leaving, and I guess I better tell you that Hermione and I have agreed to open a club with Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini.” He conveniently let out the fact the Snape and Lucius Malfoy would be involved too.
“Have you indeed,” Sirius stated. “Do you think that’s wise? Going into business with Slytherins.”
“They’re good blokes.” Harry laughed, but then he looked a little sheepish. “Never thought I’d say that.”
“This is all too weird,” Sirius stated. “But I’m willing to try,” he added, holding up his hands in defeat when he saw Harry’s eyes narrow.
“Great,” Harry said, smiling. “So, do you mind if I still live here?”
“I left it to you in my will because you’re family. Family is always welcome. Hey, what did you do with Buckbeak?”
“He’s back in the herd at Hogwarts,” Harry replied.
“Okay,” Sirius said, starting to walk from the kitchen. “Well, I might see you tonight. The Hogshead, ay?”
However, this statement had Harry turning back to his godfather. “Umm, Sirius?”
“Mmm?”
“Do you think that’s a smart idea?”
“What?”
“Just turning up unannounced in front of most of the people we know. Wouldn’t it be better to have a welcome home Sirius party after we’ve broken the news to everyone?”
Sirius stopped and blinked at Harry. “Of course, you’re right. I’ll just entertain myself in the Muggle world until then.” Then he sighed and clapped Harry on the back. “My godson, the entrepreneur.”
Harry grinned. “It’s so good to have you back,” he said, pulling Sirius into another hug. “Well, I better shower and get back to the bar to help Ollie before the match,” and he took off up the stairs ahead of Sirius, a new spring in his steps.
Chapter 17: Quidditch, Parties, and Where To Bury The Hatchet
Notes:
Disclaimer:- I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.
~~~***~~~
A/N:- Thank you all for your comments and kudos, I appreciate them all. Thank you also to, Golden Asp, for betaing this chapter.
Chapter Text
At lunch time the next day, Madam Hooch was hosting a lunch for the Quidditch players of both sides of the afternoon’s exhibition match, and she looked around the room very satisfied with what Harry Potter—via Viktor Krum—had managed to organise for her.
After Harry had left the night before, Draco had finally caught up with Melanie—the girl he’d told Harry could play in place of Ron—and he’d asked her whether she was up for playing Quidditch with them tomorrow. She’d easily answered yes, and he snickered as he watched her drooling all over Viktor Krum now. Who wouldn’t say yes? There’d been a notice up all week about the match and exactly who was playing.
“Hey, Malfoy. Better go and pull your girlfriend off Viktor before his wife hexes her,” Harry cackled as he arrived beside Draco.
“Not my girlfriend,” Draco replied, sniffing disdainfully.
“Trouble?” Harry asked.
Draco was slightly gobsmacked to hear genuine concern in the Gryffindor’s voice, and he answered accordingly. “She was just another gold digger.”
Harry clapped him on the back. “Then better you find out now, mate.”
“Yeah,” the Slytherin answered, watching the Gryffindor walking over to rescue his Bulgarian friend from the clutches of the overzealous Ravenclaw. Draco was a little more cut up about Melanie than he‘d let on. She was exactly his type; delicate features, alabaster skin, long dark hair, bluish green eyes. She was lovely on the eye and he’d enjoyed spending time with her, and he’d been very disappointed to find out that she was the cheap trollop type.
The problem had started the night before she’d heard that he was not returning next term before he’d talked to her. To tell the truth, he’d been a little shocked that the news had spread through the student body so quickly. He couldn’t think of a possible way that it had, but there you go. He shrugged, well, in a few hours that won’t be my problem, he thought, but he was still livid over the performance the teasing little bitch had put on last night.
“Pity,” she’d said, pouting prettily. “I’m going to miss you.”
Draco had snorted, and he’d watched her expression change.
She’d smiled knowingly at him. “Of course, you could set me up in an apartment when I’m finished here, and then I would happily be at your beck and call,” she’d told him seductively.
Draco had taken umbrage at that, and he’d sneered. “Pussy is easy to find, love, don’t flatter yourself,” he’d told her, but then remembered why he was here. “So, you will play tomorrow, or not?” he’d asked coldly, his sneer still twisting his mouth.
“Yes, I’ll be there,” she’d said, her eyes narrowed, and she flounced out of the library, leaving a rather annoyed Draco in her wake. He hadn’t exactly thought she was different, but he had thought that they’d had a connection.
He sighed, and snagging another drink from a passing tray, he glanced left when he saw Blaise and Greg arriving at his side. “She’s not worth the trouble mate,” Blaise snickered. “You can do much better than that.”
“Indeed,” was Draco’s only comment, but he still looked put out.
Blaise tutted. “Has the great Draco Malfoy forgotten something,” he whispered, leaning over.
“And what is that?” Draco asked irritated by his friend’s smugness.
“You’re a millionaire. Girls fall at your feet and open their legs, don’t allow a snotty school girl to upset you.”
“True,” Draco replied, smirking. “Well, let’s get this match over with. I have the urge to be anywhere but here, and preferable somewhere on a comfortable bed with a comely witch bouncing on my cock.”
“Sounds perfect,” Blaise agreed.
~~~***~~~
As the Quidditch match was starting, Severus and Hermione were just waking up from their post breakfast nap.
“This feels very decadent,” Hermione murmured sleepily, rubbing softly against the hardness she could feel up against her backside as the haze of sleep started to subside.
“Indeed,” Severus’ voice rumbled from behind her, adjusting so his rigid shaft slid between her legs. He started thrusting back and forth gently. “Is your discomfort gone?”
“Mmm,” she replied, adjusting her hips so that the end of his cock caught her clit with each pass.
“I believe it will be some time before I’ve had my fill of fucking you,” he said against her ear. “You’re simply delicious.”
However, his words concerned her. “Some time?” she said, feeling his hand wandering over her body as she wondered if that meant hours, weeks or years. The way he was making her feel, she didn’t think that she’d ever be sick of him.
“Most probably decades,” he chuckled, drawing her earlobe into his mouth as his wandering hand came to rest on her breast and he started playing with the nipple.
She smiled. “Decades is good,” she sighed, her breath starting to hitch.
He continued to ply her body but decided that he should start getting her to think about all the things that she didn’t know about him yet. Some of the facets of his personal life were interesting to say the least, and he wondered already if she would tolerate them. “Of course, there are many things that could come between us before then, but perhaps we’ll pass those barriers as we reach them.”
“Mmm,” she agreed. “Oh Severus,” she groaned, “…feels amazing.”
While she’d been answering him, he’d slid his hand down from her breast and lifted her leg up with his hand under her thigh to give himself more room to move, and then he’d angled himself and pushed inside her.
He snickered and he started thrusting in earnest. “Does that feel even better?” his sinful voice said close to her ear.
“Yes,” she groaned, arching her back to angle her pelvis to a better position as he stroked into her.
~~~***~~~
An undefined amount of time later, Severus had shown her the remainder of his home before they’d settled in the library. As manors went she thought that it was a moderately sized one, and it was certainly comfortable and well appointed.
He’d laughed when she’d said that. “It certainly wasn’t when I first arrived,” he scoffed. “Many years of neglect had started to take its toll.”
“There are no portraits,” Hermione commented.
“Bigots and arses the lot of them. It was one of the first things I did. I burnt them all.”
Hermione had gasped.
“They’d all had frames in other places,” he told her, before adding, “In any case, it is not like the essence in a canvas is the entire soul of the person it represents.”
“But it is part of them?” Hermione questioned.
He’s nodded.
Her brow had crinkled. “There must be a very thin line between right and wrong with that spell,” she considered.
“Many ancient spells cut a ‘thin line’ as you put it between… well, perhaps not right and wrong, but positive and negative intent. Whilst it is safe to say that the animation spell is not a form of necromancy, it still does have elements of it contained within.”
“How?”
“At Hogwarts, for example. All the past headmasters have portraits, yes?”
“Yes.”
“They are all part of the wards that protect the castle. True headmasters are bound to the castle, and a new headmaster cannot take the position while the true headmaster still lives.”
“Like when that odious Umbridge woman tried to take over?”
“Indeed, and the castle eventually rids itself of them, like rot must be excised from a tree to save the whole.”
“But hang on, then you’re the true Hogwarts headmaster?”
“Ah, but there are mitigating circumstances to my appointment, it has allowed me… to avoid being fully committed to the post. McGonagall is welcome to it.”
“But, isn’t the castle going to see her as rot eventually?”
“Perhaps,” and he’d smirked. “However, I am not entertaining any idea of ever returning to a place that has been my prison for over twenty years. They can shove any ideas of that nature up their arse; Severus Snape will never again be headmaster of Hogwarts school!”
Hermione smiled. “Bravo, you deserve your freedom,” and she saluted him with her glass of wine. It wasn’t long though and her head tilted slightly. “What were the mitigating circumstances?”
Severus pursed his lips slightly before taking a sip of his own wine and saying, “Albus Dumbledore,” and then he chuckled. “That old man should have been a Slytherin,” and his eyes flashed with something undefined before he told her, “He truly was a powerful old bugger, Tom’s first choice for headmaster was Amycus Carrow, but the castle would not accept him.”
“Thank goodness,” Hermione gasped.
“Indeed,” Severus said.
“But why?”
A smirk cursed his lips. “Albus had convinced the castle that in the event of his death, and until the war was over, that I was the only person who could be considered as headmaster of Hogwarts. It was powerful magic, and is taking longer to wane than I thought it would. I am surprised that it is,” and he shrugged. “But there you go.”
Hermione finally took another mouthful of her lunch, shaking her head slightly. The more she learnt about Albus Dumbledore, the more amazed she became at the level of his manipulations. “It was Professor Dumbledore’s way of protecting Hogwarts, and the students.”
“It was, even though most people saw my appointment as similar to appointing Dracula as head of the blood bank.”
Hermione giggled. “A Muggle simile, Severus?”
His eyebrow rose imperiously. “I am a half-blood you know.”
She grinned at him. “And isn’t it wonderful.”
He didn’t understand what she meant, but he saluted her with his glass regardless, certain that her meaning would become more obvious at some point in the future.
~~~***~~~
The Quidditch match had been fun, and the Hogwarts team had not been trounced. In fact, it had been a fairly even match that had ended with a thrilling chase for the snitch between Harry and Viktor. They’d both grabbed the snitch at the same moment, so each team had been granted one hundred and fifty points. However, the professionals had been two goals up at the time, so they’d won.
It was now early evening and almost all of the Quidditch player had retired to Harry’s bar to celebrate.
However, Severus and Hermione were not planning to go until later. They were still in the library at Severus’ home.
“Is this library as big as the one at Malfoy Manor?” Hermione asked, flopping down on the opposite end of the couch to where Severus was sitting studying a text.
He glanced up. “No,” he replied. “The existing library here was woefully neglected when I took possession of the house, and the Malfoys have had generations to accumulate their stunning collection,” and he watched her swinging one leg as she thought. She had a mischievous look in her eyes that he was getting used to seeing. “What are you up to, Madam?” he asked.
She was so straight-laced around almost everyone, but where he was concerned she was a provocative little coquette. He really loved the idea that no one but those she chose to share them with knew her hidden sides, and he pursed his lips as he listened to her reply.
“Do you ever use the Malfoy library?” she asked craftily.
Severus placed his book down and turned to face her. “Is it not enough to have all this?” and he gestured around with his hand.
She smiled artfully, and sat forward to look at him more intently. “Severus, one can never have too many books.”
He chuckled. “Too true,” he said as he nodded. “Yes, I do refer to the Malfoy collection on occasion.” He watched her start to smile and he added, “And no, I’m not going to take you there yet.” He saw disappointment pass over her face, and he explained further. “There are many things you must learn about books in large magical collections before you can be let loose in the Malfoy collection. This one,” and he gesture around them again, “is relatively safe, and I am here. The master of the Malfoy collection is absent and the collection is very defensive because of that.”
“Does that mean that you will not allow me to explore the collections we visit once we’re in Germany?”
“That’s different. Public collections are kept in line by rigid librarians, and you will be with me.” He saw her taking in what he was saying. “Enthusiasm is not always wise, Hermione, some things take great patience and restraint. Not even Draco goes into his father’s collection alone. The books are very defensive without their master.”
“So they protect themselves?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Severus stated thoughtfully.
She was now listening intently to what Severus was saying. During her travels she had visited many magical libraries, and had always wondered why the curators of the collections had been so strict with their perusal. In most cases it had been a complete waste of time even trying to use the books for research.
“Will I be able to look at the books while you’re there?”
“Which books?” he asked, wanting more information.
“The ones in the libraries we visit following New Year.”
“Oh, you will be able to study them with me,” he replied.
Hermione smiled. “Good.” She studied him for a time. “Severus?”
Severus placed his book down and looked at her. “Yes?”
“When is your birthday?”
“Why?”
“You wished me all the best on my birthday, so I do not wish to miss yours.”
“My birthday is of no consequence, Hermione.”
“Well, it is to me,” she declared, glaring at him.
“Ah, I see,” he murmured. He sighed and studied her for some moments, his mind tickling hers gently. What he found in her mind seemed to convince him to divulge the information. “The ninth of January,” he said, his eyes panning over her again.
She’d felt him invading the surface of her mind, and only he was allowed that freedom. In fact, she was fairly certain that only he would be the only one capable of bridging her defences if he wished to, but the nice thing was that unless he was teaching her more about how to protect her mind, he didn’t.
Of course it was a two way street. However, she didn’t need to look into his mind at the moment to see what he wanted, and she obliged him. She was secretly loving being submissive to him where sex was concerned. The feeling of letting go was very special, and she’d only ever felt it with Severus.
She’d just known that he’d be the one who’d be able to make her feel safe enough to relinquish control. She’d already discovered that she loved allowing him to be in command of her in the bedroom, and it suddenly hit her that they had only really been together for a little less than twenty-four hours, and this shocked her, as they’d fallen into such an easy routine.
~~~***~~~
It was late by the time Hermione and Severus arrived at Harry’s post Quidditch party, and things had started to get a little out of hand. Frivolity and abandon seemed to be the order of the day for most of the revellers, and Hermione found herself swept into the drunken embrace of Viktor Krum.
“Hermy-own,” he cried, as he danced her around the room.
“Severus!” she shrieked, laughing at Viktor’s enthusiasm, but concerned about Severus’ reaction to his forwardness. “Viktor, put me down!” she laughed.
She needn’t have worried, when her feet touched the ground Severus was right beside her. “Krum,” he stated.
“Ah, Professor,” Viktor beamed. “Hermy-own is vith you?”
“Yes,” Severus answered.
“Then I am happy for you both, come have drink! Kara!” he called to his wife. “Hermy-own and her professor are here.”
However, Hermione and Severus did not get to sit with Viktor and his friends, because as soon as Harry saw them he was there beside them. “Hermione,” he greeted her. “Sir,” he said to Severus. “I need to speak with you two most urgently. Would you follow me, please?”
Harry saw that Viktor was about to object, so he defused the situation. “I’m only borrowing them, Vic. I’ll bring them back,” he assured the Bulgarian.
“Da, da, da,” Viktor agreed, slapping Harry on the back and turning back to his vodka.
Hermione and Severus glanced at one another, but followed Harry into his office without another word. Hermione’s heart started thumping as she walked; she just knew from Harry’s body language and sombre expression that something was wrong.
Harry’s elation at Sirius’ return had slowly been morphing into doubts all day. He wanted to believe that the man at number twelve Grimmauld Place was his godfather, but he had worked out that he needed at second opinion that he trusted. This had made him think of the two smartest people he knew, and he turned his eyes back to them now as he settled them on the lounge.
“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked as soon as the office door shut behind them and she’d sat down.
“I went to Grimmauld Place this morning to shower, and I met someone… someone unexpected,” he told them.
“Who?” Hermione asked worriedly, her lip slipping between her teeth.
Harry flopped down beside his best friend, and patted her hand. “Don’t worry, love,” he encouraged, but then he looked passed her to Severus, and his expression turned serious. “Sir, is it possible to come back from within the veil?”
“Why on earth… No!” Severus gasped. “You’re not thinking that Black has come back, are you?”
“He looks and acts just like Sirius. He says he’s been in a kind of limbo,” Harry explained. “But we all saw him fall through the veil, and the question is…”
“Was he dead or not?” Hermione gasped as she cut in. She looked at Severus.
“Merlin’s hairy left ball sack,” Severus muttered.
“Oh, don’t worry, sir. I’ve already read him the riot act. I’m fairly convinced that it genuinely is Sirius, because he started in on all the crap he used to hand you as soon as I told him that you and ‘Mione were together, so I informed him that I would not tolerate him giving either of you a hard time over it.”
“How magnanimous of you,” Severus said, sneering.
Harry ignored the jab. He knew only too well how much the Potions master hated Sirius Black, and with good reason, and he said, “I’m sorry to ask this of you, sir, but I just thought that you would be able to tell better than me, and I really need to be certain.”
“Indeed,” Severus replied. “Where is he now?”
“Number twelve, I think. I’ve convinced him to only go out into the Muggle world until I’ve been able to inform the people who need to know, and you two were top of my list.” Then Harry scoffed a laugh. “Although, he’s on his own with the Weasleys, I’m not exactly their favourite person at the moment.”
“I appreciate this unusual display of discretion,” Severus told him.
Hermione had noted Harry ignoring Severus’ barb a moment ago, and it showed her just how far they had all come. She didn’t doubt that her friend had spoken on their behalf with Sirius, and she found herself very happy that she still had him as a friend, especially as she heard Severus’ next words.
“Then there is no time like the present. Lead the way,” and he gestured towards the fireplace.
Harry rose and opened the Floo. “Follow me,” he said.
He spoke his destination and disappeared. Severus followed suit and then Hermione followed him.
When Hermione arrived she found Severus with his arms folded across his chest, staring down Sirius Black with an imperious expression on his face.
“Black,” he stated, keeping his expression neutral.
“Snape,” the dark-haired aristocrat replied, leaning back in his chair with a twisted little smirk on his face and with every bit as much authority. “I didn’t think I’d ever see your huge nose again.”
“Nor I your bad attitude,” and as he said it, Severus came forward and leant over the table, buttressing his arms on the surface. “You’ve been in limbo, so Mister Potter informs me. Tell me, what was it like in no man’s land?”
The corner of Sirius’ mouth twitched up. “Very fucking boring. Planning to send me back there?”
“No, that’s not my style anymore, Black. I’ve retired from the fighting. Why, do you want to go back?”
“No, I just wanted to see if you harboured any malice towards me. Harry tells me you and me are the only ones left now.”
Severus straightened and took a step back, his eyebrow arching as he did so. “Yes, survivors obviously,” and Severus’ lip twitched into a smile. “Then, may I suggest that we remember just where to bury the hatchet?”
“And where would you suggest?” Sirius drawled, raising an eyebrow artfully.
“Squarely in the portrait of the old poof who encouraged us to stay at one another’s throats all those years ago?”
Sirius nodded once, and picked up his bottle of whisky. “Yes, I suppose he did do that, didn’t he? Drink, Snape?”
“Thank you, Black,” and Severus took Hermione by the hand and pulled her towards the table.
Up until this point they hadn’t taken their eyes off one another, and they hadn’t seen Harry and Hermione standing there looking dumbfounded, but Severus now took in Hermione’s expression and he laughed. “What?” he said. “Didn’t you want us to play nice?”
Hermione wrapped her arms around his bicep and levering herself up she kissed his cheek. “Of course,” she told him, and then looked at Sirius. “Hello, Sirius.”
“Hello, kitten. My, haven’t you grown?” he replied, looking at her as if he hadn’t noticed her before this moment, and openly leering as his eyes panned over her body. “You’re a lucky bastard, Snape.”
“Yes I am,” Severus agreed without batting an eyelid, and he seated a very confused Hermione before sitting beside her.
Harry flopped down beside Sirius, and sighed. “So, neither of you are going to start the childish crap again?”
Both of the older wizards gave him haughty looks and said together, “Who, us?” They both looked entirely too innocent, and Hermione couldn’t help herself as she wove her arm through Severus’ again and started to laugh.
“I think there’s something that they are not telling us,” she giggled.
Sirius finished pouring shots of whisky and arched an eyebrow. He handed them around and then raised his glass to Severus. “Bastard,” he saluted with a knowing smile on his face.
“Prick,” Severus answered with a matching smile.
They knocked back their drinks and Sirius refilled their glasses saying, “Come on you two, you’ll get behind,” as he noticed Hermione and Harry still sitting there without having touched their drinks. Then he cackled. “We buried the hatchet years ago, but we kept up the pretence for Albus’ sake.”
“Yes, the old bastard revelled in keeping people at one another’s throats so nobody would realise that it was him who was manipulating them,” Severus added, knocking back his second drink.
Finally, Hermione picked up her first drink and downed it. “Ugh,” she commented swallowing. “Whisky really isn’t my thing,” and she turned her glass upside down.
Harry slugged his own drink back and said, “Why don’t we show you my new bar?” he said to Sirius.
“Excellent idea,” Severus cackled. “Most people will be too drunk to notice a dead man in their midst.”
Chapter 18: The Season for Sharing
Notes:
Disclaimer:-
I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.~~~***~~~
A/N:- Thank you to Golden Asp, for her beta work on this chapter, and to everyone for their comments and kudos, I hope you enjoy this next chapter, and for those who have been patiently waiting, it is the next chapter that sees Lucius entering the story.
Chapter Text
Hermione realised by Christmas Eve that her life had become a haze of learning new things, rehearsing for New Year’s Eve, sex, and she didn’t care at all. She was learning so much from Severus and they were developing a wonderful, easy relationship. She’d discovered only this week—on their first visit to a university library—that he had almost unlimited admittance into most places that she’d never been allowed to go.
However, this afternoon Hermione was on the top floor of Flintlock with her dance teacher, Marta, who had Portkeyed over from Germany to meet with her. Marta and Hermione were refining Hermione’s routine for New Year’s Eve, and Severus was watching them rehearse.
As he watched he reflected on his relationship with Hermione. They had gone from strength to strength over the past two weeks, and he couldn’t help thinking that this was turning into something rather special.
He knew that having him there watching her turned her on and he was really looking forward to seeing how that affected her next week when she was up on stage. On the other hand he was feeling very possessive of her, and uncertain he wanted her being ogled by others.
Hermione had explained to him that whilst she wore revealing dance costumes she never striped in public; the dancers around her were the ones who striped, she only danced and sang.
However, all of the burlesque clubs that Hermione had told him about so far were on the continent, and while it was exciting to think that they were creating something similar here in England he had very mixed feelings about Hermione performing at the club. He watched her perfecting the spin up into the air where she apparated away in a streak of black feathers at the end of the routine, and it was going to be spectacular. However, she was also going to need a way of protecting her identity better here in England.
Once the club on Maple Lane opened she would require a way of being anonymous. He’d seen the way Black’s eyes had pursued her, and Hermione had told him that when they’d had Sunday lunch with him and Harry the next day that the pureblood had been very touchy.
Hermione hadn’t seemed worried about it, but that small incident would be nothing if wizards like Black found out she was Raven, and he resolved that they should hide her identity better when she performed. Being in a place where few people knew you was different to being in England where she was famous. They needed to have a discussion about it.
Severus could see other things too. Having grown up on a war footing had made Hermione a little too addicted to adrenaline. Severus could understand it; it was the same reason that duelling was one of his favourite pastimes. However, he was fairly certain that she would not want to be known for her hobby, but as an academic, and imagine what a small-minded family like the Weasleys would say about her if they knew that she had a persona called Raven.
There was another thing that he wanted to discuss with her too. He was teaching her advanced Potions and Arithmancy, as well as certain aspects of the dark arts, but he knew that Lucius was much more knowledgeable on interpreting runes and wandlore, and he wanted to propose that he teach her those aspects of magic.
Apart from anything it was his way of testing the waters for including Hermione as the witch he and Lucius had been looking for all their adult lives. He was certain that Hermione would be open to the idea, as he’d seen certain things in her mind during one of their Occlumency sessions. As long as she didn’t have a hang up about Lucius being married.
Of course, the biggest problem with his idea was that Lucius was currently in Azkaban, and would be for another three years unless rumours that he’d recently heard were actually true. It was being said that the ministry was in the process of adopting a scheme similar to the Muggle idea of parole, and that they were considering it because frankly Azkaban was crammed to breaking point following the war.
Severus visited Lucius and Rabastan Lestrange weekly, and he corresponded with Lucius in between. In fact, just last night Severus had sent a letter to Lucius with the idea for him to teach Hermione embedded in the text.
One had to be careful what one said in a letter to a prisoner in Azkaban, and he hadn’t mentioned it directly. However, he was certain that his friend would get the idea without words that would light every detector spell surrounding the prison. No, but he’d proposed that he had a very eager student working with him who was interested in runes and wandlore, and he’d sent him a dream spell imbibed in the seal of the envelope to give his friend the identity of the student, and an idea of what he might gain from assisting.
Severus smirked to himself as he focused back to Hermione, now going through her routine once more from the beginning. The music thumped and her hips gyrated as she ran her hands down her sides bending her knees outward to open her legs more as she danced provocatively.
She saw his smile and returned it before glancing around to see that Marta was not paying attention to her anymore, but was on her phone ranting at someone in German. Taking her opportunity her hand started rubbing her crotch as she licked her lips. However, as soon as Marta finished her phone call the hand was back on her side where it should have been and she was doing her choreographed moves again, although her knowing smile remained.
She was so beautiful when she danced, and she’d danced several times privately for him this last two weeks. Anyone who only knew the straight and prim Hermione Granger that the world saw would not dream she was capable of this, nor that she was a wanton sex goddess.
It was a joy to have her around in his study and in the libraries they’d visited for his research. He liked having her alone best though, so he could admire her charms whenever he liked, and his mind flitted to many scenes they’d played out during the short time they’d spent devoted to her learning and each other’s pleasure so far.
He watched her finishing her rehearsal and thanking Marta, and he picked up her coat, knowing that she would cool down quickly. Despite the cold winter weather, Hermione had been dancing in a tiny pair of boy shorts and a tank top as she worked through her routine.
The duelling area over the security firm had transformed easily into a rehearsal space, as the warehouse was not even insulated yet, and it would have been a freezing place to hold the rehearsal at the moment; after all, it was snowing outside.
Work on the warehouse was not due to start until after Christmas, and thinking about that made him reflect on something that he’d skimmed off Potter’s thoughts earlier. The boy’s thoughts were still ridiculously simple to pick up on, and Severus had become aware that Harry thought that Severus would stop Hermione from performing. The Potions Master scoffed to himself; he had no intention of stopping her from dancing.
What right do I have to do that? he thought. Obviously Potter doesn’t understand that my relationship with Hermione is mutually beneficial. She’s getting free tuition in subjects that are not normally accessible, and I get her whole attention as well as her lovely body as often as I like. He’d noticed how much she loved pleasing him, and she was so sexy. Why would he want to stop her from doing something that was her release from her staid, prim side?
She saw Severus watching her walking over to him, and all she wanted was him to pin her to the wall and fuck her. Having his eyes on her while she danced was different to everyone else, and she was surprised that there wasn’t a wet patch on her shorts; he made her so hot.
She arrived under the gaze of his watchful eyes. “Severus,” she sighed, accepting his assistance with her coat, but very aware that they had to escort Marta out before they could be alone.
He helped her into the soft, but thick, woollen garment that doubled as her dress. He pursed his lips slightly as his eyes travelled over her body from her braided hair to her black spiky heeled boots, and he leant forward as he placed her scarf around her neck. “You’re lovely,” he whispered, but then turned to Marta. “May we offer you an early dinner before you return home, Marta?”
“The rehearsal was all the time I could spare today. I’ve already missed my Portkey back to Berlin, and I have problems to deal with before tonight’s show,” the witch with the orange bobbed hair told them in her thick German ascent.
“You could Floo back,” Hermione said, looking up at Severus. “Couldn’t she?”
“Yes, certainly. Follow me,” Severus replied, and ushered them out of the top floor room, locking the door behind them.
They started down the stairs in silence and Severus knocked on Marcus Flint’s office door when they arrived at the bottom of the stairs.
“Yes?” Marcus’ voice said from inside.
Opening the door, Severus ushered the two witches inside. “We need your Floo,” he told the huge wizard, sitting behind his desk.
“Help yourself,” Flint stated absently, but then looked up to see who ‘we’ was, and he rocketed to his feet seeing the two witches. He hadn’t been in his office when Severus and Hermione had brought Marta passed his door earlier, and he now found himself staring at her.
She was a striking woman, and she smiled at him. “Thanks for the Floo connection,” she told him.
“Any time,” Marcus said, watching her with open interest.
Marta was a small woman in her late twenties with a strong dancer’s body, large blue eyes that were well defined with dark makeup, ruby lips and shocking orange hair. She smiled at Marcus before turning to Hermione and patting her arm. “You’re doing well,” she told her. “We will work again on Kurt’s stage on the morning of your performance. I will owl you a time once I’ve seen the run sheet.” She then turned back to Marcus and smiled invitingly at him. “You should come too on New Year’s Eve. Thank you for the use of your premises,” and she walked towards the Floo. “Auf wiedersehen, schätzchen,” and she was gone.
“Any time,” Flint stated as he watched her leaving, but then his eyes narrowed as he saw Severus smirking at him, and he went back to his work as he barked, “Are you pair going to stand there gawking all afternoon?”
“I do not ‘gawk’,” Severus stated. “Come, Hermione. Let’s leave him to his work,” and he ushered Hermione towards the Floo as well.
~~~***~~~
As soon as Severus followed Hermione from the Floo and into his study, she stepped into his embrace, her arms winding around his neck, and her coat already undone. “Severus,” she moaned, rubbing herself on him before claiming his mouth.
It did not surprise him; he knew what she wanted, it was not a foreign request, and he was more than happy to oblige her. She moaned as she found herself up against the wall beside the fireplace.
Hermione broke their kiss and smiled salaciously at him before balancing with her arms around his neck and lifting her legs. She wound them around his hips as soon as her back was pressed up against the wall and rocked her hips against him.
He smirked at her. “Is this what you want?” he asked, rubbing his cock against her in return.
She moaned. “Yes,” she sighed. “Want you inside me.”
“Demanding Madam,” he murmured hotly as he reefed the crotch of her shorts aside with a distinct ripping sound and undid his fly.
“Yes, Severus,” she moaned, smiling against his neck.
He quickly produced his cock and settled her on top of it.
“Mmm,” she murmured as he filled her. “Fuck me.”
He snickered in return and started thrusting strongly, his hands buttressed on the wall either side of her as he pushed her against it with his pelvis.
“Ooohh, yessss,” she sighed. “That’s it,” and she joined their mouths once more and groaned as she felt herself tightening towards orgasm. So far Severus was the only man who did this to her. She never felt anything but professional in front of everyone else, but this man made her so hot that when he watched her she was almost incoherent with lust before she finished her dance.
She felt herself falling over the edge and she screamed into his mouth as she came.
Severus continued to thrust through her orgasm, but soon followed her. He pulled out quickly and lowered her to the floor after he’d come.
They simply stood there together as they recovered from their slightly frenzied coupling.
However, finally Severus stepped away from her. “Shower,” he said, helping her out of her coat.
She laughed prettily. “Thank you,” and her eyes hungrily scanned over his body. “Coming?” she asked.
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not the one who’s just spent that last three hours dancing.”
“But I’d like your company,” she told him.
“Is that so?”
“Mmm,” she replied, smiling cockily.
“Then how can I refuse. Lead the way, my dear,” he gestured with his slim hand.
~~~***~~~
Hermione did feel a little guilty living with Severus because she felt like she was neglecting Harry. Mind you, she did feel a little better about it now Sirius was back, and her best friend told her not to worry about it, to grab happiness while she had it in her grasp. However, despite having someone other than her to confide in now, last time she’d seen him she’d noticed that he still didn’t seem to be himself. His lovely green eyes always seemed to look so lost, but every time she asked whether there was anything wrong he fobbed off her concerns.
However, she was getting him all to herself this afternoon, and she was planning to find out what was bothering him. It was finally Christmas Day, and after spending the morning with Severus and having lunch together, she was going to visit Harry, while Severus—who was apparently an honorary Malfoy—was going off with Draco to visit his parents in their respective prisons.
It pleased Hermione that Draco had Severus’ support, because visiting a sanatorium and Azkaban on Christmas day was something Draco could not have wished to do. It also troubled her that there was still so much pain, things hanging on from the war, even though it was well and truly over. After the war, she’s been able to make her escape when it got too bad, but Hermione had forgotten that some of them had been unable to leave.
When the so-called ‘Golden Trio’ had left, it had been after Severus had been exonerated, but people like Draco had still been under house arrest, waiting for their chance to clear their names. Mind you, when Hermione had left England she’d never have thought that she’d be friends with all these Slytherins two years later.
They hadn’t cared much about people from the other side of the war, even if Hermione did have very specific feelings about some of them, and that made her guilt over leaving Severus without aid in that shack flare again. She still didn’t know his answer to why she’d left him that day, and that was something she needed to ask, and as she watched him preparing to leave she said, “Severus?”
“Yes,” he answered without looking.
“We still haven’t talked about the day of the battle.”
He knew what she meant. “True,” he replied. “Is it still bothering you?”
“Yes, although,” and her lip slipped between her teeth. “I had managed to forget it until I just started thinking about all the things that people like Draco are still facing because of the war.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t think about things like that. We’re all coping as best we can.”
“True, but it still bothers me.”
He finished securing his cloak and turned to her, pulling her to him. “The do-gooder Gryffindor is never far from the surface, is it, Madam?” he teased.
She swatted his arm. “I can’t help it.”
He smiled. “I know. Now, you go and spend time with Potter and I’ll go and assist Draco to be morbid and I’ll meet you back here later and ravage you into forgetting about it again.”
She giggled, but then looked at him seriously when another thought hit her. “Are you certain that me living here with you is not too suffocating for you?” He’d always been an island, could he really have changed that much?
“Now, what gave you that notion?”
She shrugged, uncertain, and not really ready to share her thoughts. “I guess it’s just Christmas making me morbid as well.”
“Then stop thinking like that. You will know if you ever over-stay your welcome, and I cannot see that happening. Now, off with you,” he said, kissing her.
She smiled. “Thank you, Severus. Bye,” and she walked through the Floo and into Grimmauld Place.
“Hey, Harry. Happy Christmas,” she said, seeing him waiting for her as she stepped out of the Floo. She walked around the table and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around for you much since we left Hogwarts.”
“It’s okay, love. I’m a big boy now, and Sirius has been… entertaining,” he replied, smiling about something she obviously didn’t know about. “And happy Christmas to you too,” and he kissed her cheek and handed her a box from his coat pocket.
She did the same with her present for him, and they exchanged them.
“Thanks,” he said, but then a glimpse of the cheeky Harry surfaced and he cackled as they opened their presents. “So, living with Snape. How’s that going?”
Hermione laughed. “Actually, wonderfully,” and she smiled. “He’s brilliant.” Then she looked at the rack of crystal phials of all different shapes that he’d given her. “Oh, Harry, they’re lovely. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, love,” but then he laughed again. “And I suppose it doesn’t hurt that he can get you into places you can’t get into alone?”
She chuckled. “No, that doesn’t hurt either… But Harry, I was only half talking about that. As you know I’m very choosy about who I sleep with,” she paused and flashed Harry a grin, “and he’s amazing.”
“Amazing, ay,” Harry told her, cocking an eyebrow, but then his face fell.
Hermione placed a hand on his arm, and she just knew this all had to do with everyone else having someone and him being alone. “Harry, tell me what’s really worrying you?”
Sighing, he nodded and said, “I’m just not sure where to start.”
Hermione noticed the wine that Kreacher had left out to breath. “How about we have a drink, and sit by the fire and talk.”
He sighed. “Okay,” he said finally, and led the way up to the library. He shut the door and plonked down in one of the chairs.
The room was warm and pleasant all decorated for Christmas, and a tiny twinge of regret that they had not been invited to The Burrow this year surfaced in Hermione’s mind. However, instead of dwelling on that she reflected instead on thinking that pleasant was something she’d never associated with Grimmauld Place before.
However, she hid her thoughts and turned her attention to Harry. “You can tell me anything, you know. Just talk and the words will come out.”
He took a drink from his glass, but sighed again and took a great gulp of it as well, before admitting in a rushed tumble of words. “I feel like there’s this void. Fighting Voldemort for eight years left us little time for being normal teenagers.”
“That’s true, but you know you’re still ‘teenage’ enough to let loose now if you really want to.”
“May be,” he conceded, but still looked just as hesitant. “I’m just not sure I know how.”
“You know, this has all been brought on by being back at Hogwarts, don’t you? You were experiencing life just fine before you went back to Hogwarts and Ginny and Ron screwed around with your feelings.”
Harry nodded. “Yeah, I guess I was,” he said, glancing up at her. His smile was tinged with sadness as he saw her so focused on him. “We’ve come a long way since we met, haven’t we, love?” he intoned thoughtfully.
“Mmm,” she replied. “So much has changed, yet where England is concerned nothing has,” and what she’d been discussing with Severus before she’d left flitted through her mind again.
“I know what you mean.” Then he chuckled. “Turned out all right for you though.”
She snorted into her drink. “Right, sure it did. I was a virtual prisoner in my room before the end of term.”
This made Harry smile. “Yeah, but you have the most fearsome wizard I’ve ever met on your side.”
“Yes,” and she smiled, running her thumb over the bracelet on her wrist, and remembering exchanging presents with him this morning after they’d thorough explored one another as they did every morning. She shivered in delight; she loved waking up with someone who was so passionate, and she sighed dreamily. “Yes, I don’t think I’ve ever been more content than I am at the moment.”
“You deserve it, love. Have I ever told you what an amazing friend you are?”
“You don’t need to, but thank you.” She saluted him with her drink, and then added thoughtfully. “Are you planning to catch up with Ramon once we hit the continent?” and she took a sip of her wine, like she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell.
They’d decided that if none of them were going back to Hogwarts after Christmas that they didn’t need to rush their fact finding expedition, and instead they could start getting to work on the club, but they were still going over to Germany in a few days to look around before New Year’s.
Harry spluttered. “You know about Ramon?” he all but squeaked.
“Harry, I worked out that you were gay a long time ago, so just tell me what’s on your mind!” it wasn’t a question but a demand this time.
Hermione was right when she’d told him that it was only when they’d gone back to Hogwarts that everything had seemed to simply unravel for him, but Harry still wondered if she was ready for the unvarnished truth.
She was watching him, waiting for him to answer her, and finally he cracked and stated bluntly after taking a deep shuddering breath. “I don’t want to catch up with Ramon, I want Oli,” he told her, mumbling slightly and blushing bright red.
Hermione’s mouth gaped open. “Oh, so what’s stopping you?”
“I guess I’m scared,” he said, shrugging as he looked into his friend’s honey-coloured eyes.
Hermione’s glass clinked as she hastily placed it on the coffee table and grinned at her flustered friend. “Why ever are you scared?”
Harry sighed, there she was. There was his wonderful friend whom accepted him for who he was. He was brought back from his thoughts as she’d asked her question. He cleared his throat and shook his head. “Actually, I don’t know, I really like him… b-but I just don’t want to bugger things up. Am I being stupid?”
Hermione leant forward and covered his hand with hers. “You certainly are being stupid. Where is he spending Christmas?”
Harry swallowed. “A-At his flat I guess,” he admitted.
She had to fight to keep her expression neutral as she said, “Then Harry James Potter, you get on your knees in front of that fireplace and you Floo-call Oli and invite him over. Now, Mister, and I’ll go back home to give you privacy.”
“No!” he all but squeaked, and then cleared his throat again. “No, could you s-stay actually,” he stuttered.
“Harry!” she stated exasperation in her voice. “You don’t need me here. Why are you being so hesitant about this? Come on, the real reason, please!” she demanded.
He sighed, “Ron caught me with Ramon.”
“Ron caught… Oh, now I understand why he left…” Hermione snorted and then laughed. “The look on his face when he came back to the hotel and told me he was leaving was priceless, but I misinterpreted it. Now I see, but Harry that's no reason not to call Oli. Go on, make the call, love. If nothing else, you’re just inviting him over for lunch.”
“And you’ll stay?” Harry asked.
She patted his arm. “Yes, I’ll stay, but if it looks like you might need time alone I’ll excuse myself.”
“You’re brilliant. I’m starving.”
Hermione laughed. “What? Didn’t you eat enough at lunchtime, or are you channelling your inner Weasley?”
“Oh, shut it you,” he laughed in return. “I feel like a weight has just been lifted from my shoulders. Talking to you has been brilliant. Now I feel like I have an ally, and I’m hungry.”
“Make the call, Potter,” she told him laughing at him.
“Yes, ‘Mione,” he said sheepishly, and got up to go over to the fireplace.
Chapter 19: A Different Kind of Christmas
Notes:
Disclaimer:-
I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.~~~***~~~
A/N:- Thank you to Golden Asp, for her beta work on this chapter, and to everyone for their comments and kudos. Here is the chapter that many of you have been waiting for the arrival of Lucius into the story, I really hope you enjoy this next chapter.
Chapter Text
Draco handed his mother the bottle of perfume—her favourite—that he’d brought for her. It was good to see that she’d settled since their last visit, but now she was ever so quiet, and she simply looked at them. Draco’s hand scooted out and covered hers awkwardly. He wished that theirs was the kind of family that told each other that they loved them, but they weren’t. He pulled her into a hug, and she felt like a rag-doll against him, and he just wanted to cry. That was when he felt Severus’ firm hand on his shoulder, and he released her and looked to his godfather.
“Come, Draco,” he told him. “She might respond to you next time,” he encouraged.
“This time of year just gets to me,” Draco murmured, standing at the door now, looking at the hollow witch who was his mother.
“I know what you mean,” Severus agreed, however, then he thought back to the luscious witch who’d been in his bed this morning, and he couldn’t really bring himself to commiserate, well, not entirely. Hermione was a rare find, and if the truth was known, Narcissa was a rampant snob, who had spoilt her son rotten whilst constantly working against Lucius’ attempts to moderate. However, his thoughts came back to Draco though as he pulled out the special Portkey to take them to Azkaban, but Draco didn’t know any of that.
In order to get this type of Portkey, you had to apply weeks in advance, filling in copious amounts of paper work to be granted visiting rights, and he would be pleased when he never had to jump through the ministry hoops again. He held out the Portkey and they both touched it before he activated it.
They landed on the small gavelled courtyard with the yawning gates of the prison behind them. It was bitterly cold and the wind was whipping sea spray up all around the platform of rocks on which the prison stood.
No matter how many times you’d already visited Azkaban, it still filled you with a foreboding coldness every time you saw it. Severus hated that Lucius was here, but reforming at the end of a war—especially one being controlled by Gryffindors—did not grant one immunity from anything, and he shivered as he remembered how easily he could have ended up here as well.
The pair walked into the foyer and were relieved of their wands before being seated on cold metal chairs while they waited. Finally they were escorted to two separate visiting rooms. Severus was a regular visitor, but Draco only came on special occasions, and always visited Rabastan Lestrange when he came, as well as seeing his father.
Severus watched his godson go into the other visiting room, and he waited until the guard shut the door before he headed towards the door he was being directed to. He hated being without his wand, but he took heart that he could protect himself wandlessly, even under the oppressive magic dampening charms here. Of course, the guards didn’t need to know that. “Good day, Lucius,” he stated formally, listening for the tell-tale click of the door before he spoke candidly.
“Severus,” the blond wizard acknowledged.
Lucius looked paler than normal, and as always he was painfully thin, but otherwise he seemed to be coping with his incarceration. Although, today he had a black eye which was worrying. “Was it a door?” Severus asked, indicating his friend’s eye.
“Rookwood was being his usual charming self,” Lucius stated smoothly, with a sniff of distain. He still had the aristocratic bearing and air about him.
“Rabastan?” Severus queried, pulling out his cigarettes and lighting one the Muggle way for them both.
“Of course,” Lucius replied, taking an eager drag on his fag, he’d ran out two days ago. “Bastian is not cut out for this place. How is his appeal coming along?”
Severus sighed. Rodolphus and Bellatrix had Rabastan imperialised, and when they went down during the battle, Rabastan came out of his haze very confused and disorientated, and he’d just started throwing curses randomly. If he hadn’t done that then he might have stood a chance of not being found guilty, but there was nothing anyone could do about it.
“Nothing new I’m afraid. We continue to present concrete evidence that he was imperioed,” Severus stated, “and we continue to submit it to all the appropriate departments, but the wheels of the ministry move very slowly.”
“Yes, that is true,” Lucius agreed, watching Severus producing a hip flask and placing it in front of his friend. “Thank you,” he said.
Severus could see that Lucius needed something to assist him to keep going. “However, take heart,” he said, and he leant forward. “I have heard talk of releasing eligible prisoners on a condition similar to the Muggle concept of parole,” he said softly. “You would be released to a responsible person to serve out the remainder of your time, and serve it under house-arrest.”
“A man cannot help but wish for salvation,” Lucius answered somewhat emotionally.
“I know what you mean,” Severus agreed. “Have patience, dear man.”
Lucius nodded and took a healthy swig before pinning Severus with his astute grey eyes. “Now, about Hermione Granger?”
Severus took a drag of his cigarette and chuckled.
“You’re a bastard, you are. Fancy giving a man in my situation a reason to wank.”
Snape raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “She’s a gem, Lucius.”
“She certainly is,” Lucius said, examining his friend’s countenance carefully. “Oh, how I envy you.”
“I believe that she might be the one, Lucius.”
“You are correct there, my dear man. I have been honoured to be of service to her twice in unmentioned deeds throughout the war, when she found herself in the worst of situations, but I long to be more to her.”
“Yes, when her mind was weaker, during the course of her Occlumency lessons I saw what you did for her,” Severus acknowledged. “You saved her twice.”
“Have you spoken to her about it?”
“No, I have not spoken to her about what I saw or how I can see that you would be the missing piece in our arrangement.”
“I see,” the blond wizard stated. “I would very much appreciate her visiting me,” he murmured, his emotions threatening to spill over for a moment, even though he knew the answer to the question before Severus even opened his mouth.
“She would never gain permission,” Severus continued. “No ministry flunky—no matter how inept—would allow a Muggleborn war heroine to come to Azkaban to visit...”
“Yes, point taken. There’s no need to say it,” Lucius said, a hint of irritation playing around his mouth.
The Potions Master watched his friend, and paused before speaking again. “I should also inform you that I believe that Narcissa is no longer dying. Even though Draco was just as horrified when we visited her today,” Severus informed his friend.
“Mmm. He is still very fond of his mother,” was Lucius’ only comment.
They then sat in silence for a time, each seemingly consumed in their own thoughts before Severus spoke again. “Sirius Black has returned from within the veil as well.”
“Really? Lucky bastard,” Lucius replied.
“Indeed.”
Then Lucius chuckled. “Oh, to be in his shoes and up to my armpits in honey,” and he sighed.
Severus decided to ignore that comment, as agreeing with him would do no good, it would only serve to make him reflect more on what he didn’t have, so he changed the subject. “The warehouse on Maple Lane is starting to undergo its renovations following Christmas.”
Lucius remained silent for a time, but then sighed and nodded. “That is excellent,” he replied, finishing the liquor.
“The renovations are rather extensive, and it may take some time to complete,” Severus continued, placing the empty flask back in his pocket, and offering his friend another cigarette. “Have you run out of cigarettes?” he asked, wandlessly enlarging the box of fags, toiletries, books and magazines he’d brought with him for Lucius.
“As you know, they’re as good as currency in this place, but recently the demand has increased,” Lucius replied.
“Is there anything I can do to assist in that respect?” Severus asked.
“No, nothing,” Lucius replied.
“Then I will obtain more cigarettes for you for next time.”
“That would be appreciated,” Lucius stated, his expression starting to falter. He knew that any form of physical contact was banned. There were spells in place to monitor things. They were primarily to stop inmates from beating one another, but it also monitored any comforting touches as well, and Lucius knew that should Severus touch him the room would be swarming with guards in a matter of moments.
The measures didn’t stop people from fighting, but it did stop them killing one another. The only contact you got here was the cold feel of knuckles or the cane on your flesh. Oh sweet Merlin how he missed warm human contact.
Lucius craved contact, and lack of tactile sensation made him ache, and as much as he appreciated Severus’ visits he wished things were different. Anyway, apart from the monitoring spells, it was not wise to open yourself up to another here, the taint of the dementors was everywhere. Draco’s visits with his father were always fairly emotional, and Lucius did not wish to get emotional, as emotion could eat you alive in the dead of night here.
Severus knew that Lucius’ cold emotionless façade was a lie, and that he was a highly emotional being. In fact, he was an empath. He felt things very deeply, and being here sucked the life out of him. So, it was best to remain aloof and detached for his sake.
However, with the news Severus had imparted to Lucius about Narcissa some moments ago, they both knew that things would get more difficult when Draco came in, and as if on cue the door opened and Draco was walking towards them. Lucius forced his most rigid façade into place. Just as the blond wizard did not like his son coming to visit him, he understood why Severus did not want Hermione coming here, but he put up with Draco coming because the option of not seeing him at least occasionally was worse.
Severus glanced to the door and stood, before saying, “Very well, Lucius. I will meet with you again next week,” and he gestured for Draco to take his chair.
“F-Father, did Severus tell you about m-mother?” Draco asked his father while still standing pale and pained behind the chair without sitting, his knuckles in a death grip on the back of it.
Lucius sighed. “Yes, son.”
It was obvious that Draco had been crying, and Lucius sighed turning his eyes to Severus. “Severus, perhaps you had best check on Bastian.”
“As you wish, Lucius,” Snape replied, and placed his hand on Draco’s shoulder, squeezing slightly in support before turning to go and do battle with a guard to allow him to see a prisoner he had not previously arranged to see.
It was this petitioning process that was the bitch, you were subject to the whim of some ministry flunky’s approval, and they were all a pretty dim lot. He wasn’t planning to tell Lucius, but he had a plan forming in his head where Hermione could assume the role of a distance cousin of the Malfoys who had just arrived back in England. He chuckled softly to himself. She’d probably love the play acting experience.
Surprisingly, the guard about to go into the visiting room to take Rabastan back to his cell was accommodating, and Severus walked towards the room Rabastan was in, noting which guard he’d spoken to. Perhaps there was a chance there that could be exploited at a later date, he considered as he found Rabastan as he’d suspected he would, sitting immobile.
After so many years of mind control, he did not think well independently, and his mind was ripe to persuasion and stunted to that of a very unconfident callow youth. Severus visited him periodically and planted ideas into his head that helped him survive here until they could get him out, and today after Draco’s visit there were tears trickling down his cheeks as he stared at the bare stone of the wall.
“Bastian. Look at me,” Severus said, sighing.
~~~***~~~
After they returned from Azkaban, the Potions Master took his godson to Blaise Zabini’s penthouse apartment, and as Draco headed for the liquor cabinet he quietly told the young Italian what had taken place.
“Don’t concern yourself, Severus. I will keep him entertained.”
Severus glanced knowingly around the room at the scantily clad women, the alcohol and food and he raised an eyebrow. “Interesting Christmas celebration, Zabini.”
“We all have our own way of celebrating. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine,” Blaise said, indicating Draco being taking in hand by two of the five girls present after an unspoken request from Zabini.
This type of party reminded Severus of the ones the Tom Riddle had specialised in back in the early days, but the difference here was that these two young millionaires were not trying to lure anyone into deeds by bribing them with booze, sex and drugs Draco and Blaise were simply being hedonistic because they could afford to be.
No doubt in an hour’s time a very pissed Draco would have one nymphette riding his face, while another bounced on his cock. Being that young again might sound like a good thing, but Severus decided that he didn’t want that anymore, and as he bid Blaise and Draco a good night, he was looking forward to getting home and unwrapping his bed partner once more.
~~~***~~~
However, when Severus arrived home, he found a very thoughtful Hermione waiting for him.
“A knut for them,” he said as he walked in.
“What? Oh… umm. I’m not certain where to start,” she said, reaching up and encouraging him to bend forward for a kiss.
“I have found that the beginning is always a good place,” Severus replied, straightening and going to pour himself a large tumbler of whisky before coming back to stand in front of her.
She looked up at him and just blurted it. “Harry’s finally admitted to me that he’s gay, and more interestingly still that he has the hots for Oliver Wood.”
Severus sat down beside her and reached for her, pulling her into his lap. “Does he indeed?” he chuckled, downing his drink before placing the tumbler down and sliding his cold hand up under her skirt as he spoke.
She giggled and squirmed, but then said, “Well, I’d always thought he fancied Ron… I know it sounds ridiculous after all the trouble Ron’s caused but…” she replied, opening her legs as he pulled her skirts up.
“Ah, there you are, you pretty little thing,” he murmured, his fingers pulling the crotch of her knickers aside to examine what the material had been hiding. He opened her nether lips, and his eyes drank in their fill before he glanced up at her face. “Weasley, you say?”
“Mmm,” she said, her eyes still on the sight he’d just raised his head from, she loved when he bunched her skirts up like this.
“So you were surprised by his choice?” Severus asked absently, his fingers starting to tease her.
“Mmmm,” she sighed.
“Is that nice, love?” he murmured, making his voice a deep rumble, and seeing her eyes falling shut in response. He smiled. “However, Weasley is most definitely not what I wish to discuss right now.”
“It isn’t?” she said, sighing.
“No,” and he smiled quietly as he felt her pelvis starting to rock gently as he continued to ply her with his fingers. He added his lips to the mix, nuzzling her neck as his voice rumbled close to her ear. “I’ve found you second mentor, a very dear friend who can teach you what you wish to know about runes and wand lore.”
“You have?” she sighed, feeling the delicious ball of tension tightening in her abdomen.
“Yes, do you want to know who it is?”
“Yes,” she moaned.
“Then come for me, and I’ll tell you,” he told her, his hand working her perfectly.
Her legs strained open, and her voice rose higher until she couldn’t take the exquisite teasing any longer, her legs shook and her body tightened and she groaned out his name like a prayer. “Severus,” she moaned as her body released, bathing his hand with her warm liquor.
He watched her as she writhed on his fingers while he continued to stimulate her. “Good girl,” he praised, kissing her pulse point. “The instructor, who will work alongside me to give you the knowledge and pleasure that you crave will be Lucius Malfoy.”
His hand was still rubbing her, and she opened her eyes and looked at him. “Lucius Malfoy?”
“Yes, he has agreed to tutor you under the same arrangement as I have with you. Would you like that?”
Now, Hermione had to admit that if there was anyone else that she had ever thought of in the same terms as she thought of Severus, it would be Lucius, but even though he’d saved her twice so far, he was still a very unknown quantity to her. She sat up straighter and looked Severus in the eye. “Yes,” she stated. “I believe that I might like that.”
“Excellent,” Severus replied, his mouth working around to her lips.
They kissed languidly for several minutes, but eventually the questions bubbling up in Hermione got the better of her.
“But how would that work?” she wanted to know, as soon as he broke their kiss.
Severus chuckled darkly and claimed her mouth again. This time when he broke their kiss he said, “By mail to begin with.”
“Oh,” she murmured, starting to undress as he continued to kiss her. She knew how this would end. He’d promised as much when he’d left earlier, and Severus always kept his promises.
As he kissed her, Severus was happy. Here was a witch who had no plans to collar him and make him play families. She understood that he was not interested in doing that, however, when Lucius was finally released from that awful place he was likely to need someone to help him feel safe again, and this giving little witch would be the perfect person to do that.
Then his thoughts turned to Rabastan. What would he need when he was finally free of Azkaban? He’d been a callow youth of fourteen when Bellatrix first imperialised him, and he’d been unable to escape since then. He was likely to need a mother figure…
However, that was when Hermione turned on his lap and turned the tables on him. He found that while they’d been kissing and he’d been deep in thought that she’d undressed and was now straddling his lap and fishing his cock from his trousers.
He sighed when she succeeded, and then impaled herself on him. “Madam,” he said, slapping her bum playfully. “You’ve taken advantage of me.”
She smiled salaciously and pulled herself up to plunge back down on him again, before she said smugly, “Me, take advantage of a Slytherin? That is simply not possible… Is it, sir?” and she laughed prettily and started bouncing up and down more animatedly.
“Minx!” Snape stated, grabbing her around the waist and taking control of the situation.
She laughed louder, allowing him to control her rise and descent over him, and she leaned back in his arms slightly so his cock brushed against that spot inside her each time.
He watched her getting herself off on him, and he realised that he might actually like being collared by this witch if she ever did take it into her head to do such a thing. He allowed her to come and then he pulled her off him. “On the rug on your knees,” he commanded.
She grinned at him, and scrambled off his lap on fairly unsteady legs. Landing on all fours and turning to wiggle her bum at him in invitation, Hermione was very happy. The fire was warm, she had a deep warmth thrumming through her despite the bitter cold outside, and she’d just been told that as well as Severus, Lucius wanted to teach her. She couldn’t think of a better Christmas.
Severus disrobed, only leaving his shirt on and he came to kneel behind her. “Tease,” he told her, wasting no time in pushing into her once more.
She laughed happily and pushed back against him.
He growled and grabbed her hips, starting to slam into her. He grinned when her laughter turned to moans of pleasure, her arms gave way, and her legs shook as another orgasm started to descend on her.
This time he satisfied himself with her, and once he’d finally roared his release they collapsed in a tangle of arms and legs in the soft, deep pile rug in front of the fire and she snuggled into his side as she dozed.
Severus lay on his back, his arm around her as he summoned the rug from the back of the lounge and draped it over them. As Hermione dozed euphorically, he set his mind to wondering exactly how he might be able to reverse some of the damage done to Rabastan by his years of mind control. Then how he could sneak health potions into cigarettes and liquor for Lucius.
The strict rules about what you could take to a prisoner in Azkaban were ridiculous. They sanctioned fags and booze, but you could not take in other food stuffs or medicine. Merlin help you if you needed other potions.
However, he was finally brought from his thoughts by Hermione shivering slightly in her sleep and pulling at the blanket, and he realised that the fire had burned down and the room was cooling off. Without another thought he apparated them to his bed, and cast a warming charm on them.
“Thank you,” she murmured sleepily.
“You’re welcome. Go back to sleep,” he encouraged. He knew if he woke her too much that she’d want to play again, and he was content to just think on things at the moment. Merlin I am getting old, he scoffed as he realised what he’d just thought.
Years ago, he would have gone all night. Mind you, there was every chance that would still happen. So, he supposed that not much had really changed; he just needed a bit of recovery time between now sessions now.
Hermione shifted again and her hand started rubbing him, and he decided that he’d thought enough. “Suck me,” his voice rumbled, and he smiled as he felt her sliding lower, and then her mouth nibbling and licking at his cock. He pushed the bedclothes back so he could watch, bringing up the lights to a soft glow.
For someone who had been dozing she seemed to be wide awake now, and his eyes couldn’t choose between watching her licking his tool or the view in the mirror opposite the bed of her kneeling with her lovely cunt visible in the mirror behind her.
Her mouth was now moving enthusiastically over his shaft and she moaned around her mouthful sending the vibrations up through him and he had the sudden urge to be pounding her into the mattress.
He flipped them in one quick movement, pulling her up the bed and entering her as he took in her look of total surprise. “Hello,” he smirked.
She grinned at him, but then flexed her hips and said, “Move, oh move, Severus.”
So he did, and he watched her eyes roll back in her head and her mouth open. “Yes,” she groaned.
Yes, nights like this were all he could ever want now. He adored this witch, but he wanted his freedom too, and he felt the need fairly soon to go on another trip, especially now that he was free of Hogwarts. But this time, he could choose to take her with him.
~~~***~~~
As Hermione and Severus were recovering from their second round of sex in their warm bed. In his cold cell in the middle of the North Sea, Lucius Malfoy was lying in the dark contemplating life as he often did here in the dead of night.
He had to admit that he really wasn’t moved by the plight of his estranged wife. They hadn’t really been together since Draco’s conception, and as hard as he’d tried to bring Draco up without prejudice, Narcissa had seen to it that the boy understood how vastly superior she thought they should be to ordinary people.
Lucius rubbed his hands together, trying to stave off the cold as he thought. In winter they kept this place just above the temperature that could do serious damage to a person, but you were never not cold. Then in summer, you were never cool. He was convinced that it was an insidious plot to keep the prisoners as uncomfortable as possible.
Bringing his hands up to his mouth, he exhaled a long slow breath trying to warm his hands. His breath came out as a white plume in the cold light of the moon, but it was still warmer than his hands so he succeeded in warming them a little. He quickly shoved them between his legs in the hope that he could keep them warm, and as he did he vowed for perhaps the millionth time that once he left this place he would never come back. He would make damn certain that he didn’t, and with this resolve still stinging his brain he turned his thought to one of the beautiful things he cherished.
There was one thing that remained unblemished in his thoughts, and that was Miss Hermione Granger. It had been an incident when Draco was in first year that had first brought her to his attention and started him acting for the betterment of the wizarding world, and not simply his own future.
At first those acts had only been small steps, a thought here or a small deed there. However, by the time he’d meet Hermione again in Flourish and Blotts before her second year at Hogwarts, he’d sold all the truly dark objects whose use could have been twisted by Tom Riddle. Yes, they’d all known that Tom Riddle wasn’t dead after the boy-who-lived had supposedly killed him, but Lucius had been joined by several prominent Death Eaters in not wanting the fiend to return.
Even back then, he’d become sick of playing Riddle’s twisted game. Yet, here he was now, paying for crimes he’d already repented for. He sighed as he considered that he had succeeded along the way to get Draco to realise the truth of matters.
Now, Draco and Hermione were friends, Severus had told him, and furthermore that very same little witch—who had shown such promise—had grown into a lovely woman. A warm and giving witch whom the other beautiful soul in his life was now screwing, and his cock twitched despite the aching cold. Oh, how he wanted to bury himself in her warmth, but then he had since he’d first seen her as a grown witch.
Although, he’d known their destiny for much longer than that. Lucius had a gift for seeing into the soul of a person. It didn’t matter to if it was a witch or a wizard, he thought of people as souls, in his eyes they were not gender specific. However, during his lifetime he’d spent more time denying that he had soul-mates than enjoying them. He’d only ever found two perfect souls, and he was confident that they were the only two he’d ever find.
Severus had one of the most beautiful souls he had so far encountered, but the only other person who he’d chanced upon who could out shine Severus for him was Hermione. He had noted her pristine white soul as soon as he’d met her, and his had instantly longed to be connected with it, just as it had when he’d met Severus.
Severus’ soul had not been as pristine as Hermione’s when they’d met, it had been silver tinged with grey, but it had still been pure regardless of his upbringing. Pureness was not necessarily a measure of goodness, but a measure of worthiness, and he sighed as he thought on this.
Of course, he and Severus had bonded years ago, long before he’d married Narcissa or had been called into the service of the fiend, Riddle. Lucius had always known that there was to be a third, he had sensed that their bond was incomplete, but he hadn’t known who until he’d encountered an eleven year old Hermione in the entrance hall at Hogwarts being abused by his brat of a son. However, he’d hidden the information from Severus because of the Potions Master’s position in things. Lucius knew how much Severus had hated treating such a bright student like Hermione Granger with the utter contempt he’d had to use to keep her alive. If he’d known their destiny on top of that it may have been too much for him.
Severus had been such a different wizard back then, but now it looked like he’d known more than he’d let on, because he’d come here today and basically announced the very fact that Lucius had concealed, and then he’d told him that there was actually a chance he might earn the right to leave here early. Lucius sighed, for the first time in a long time he found himself with hope blossoming in his heart; this was the best Christmas present anyone could have given him, and a fitful sleep finally took him as he thought on the things he actually did have, even if he had no access to them at present.
Chapter 20: Perspectives
Notes:
Disclaimer:-
I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.~~~***~~~
A/N:- Thank you to Golden Asp, for her beta work on this chapter, and to everyone for their comments and kudos, I hope you enjoy this next chapter.
Chapter Text
The next day, Severus was brewing in his lab and had asked not to be disturbed. Hermione was happy to oblige as she had her own work to do, but she was sitting in their study and she couldn’t concentrate. Her mind was a whirl thinking about the new opportunity that he had just handed to her concerning Lucius. Normally under these circumstances she would go for a run to help clear her mind, but it was far too cold to run today.
She had several texts open in front of her and she was supposed to be researching delaying charms so she could create an incantation to retard the release of a potion. There were rudimentary charms for the purpose, but no one had ever invented one that worked with precision and she was setting her mind to that task at present.
It felt good to have an intellectual challenge and she’d been making good progress, but today she couldn’t concentrate on her task as every part of her mind was considering Lucius Malfoy. She had a partially penned letter to him beside her, but it was more a letter of introduction than one asking him to consider what she wanted to learn. To be frank, she wasn’t quite certain where to start. She understood what was required, and she supposed that she should have been shocked, but she wasn’t. In her mind, somehow Lucius and Severus were the perfect counterbalance for each other. She couldn’t explain it; she simply accepted it.
She paused, placing her quill down as she thought back to the battle at The Department of Mysteries. It seemed such a long time ago now, but it had been her first time alone with Lucius Malfoy. He had come out of nowhere and shielded her against the wall as one of the large shelves of glass spheres had toppled and cascaded down over them.
When the tinkling of glass had finally stopped, he’d pulled back and looked at her, but what he’d said had shocked her. “This is no place for you, Miss Granger. Do not allow those boys to get you killed.”
She’d looked up at him and had become lost in those stormy grey eyes, and oh how she’d wanted to dive in to their cool grey depths. By the end of her fifth year at Hogwarts Hermione had finally resolved to think the worse of Lucius Malfoy, but there he’d been saving her and being concerned with her safety. At that moment there’d been no one else around, and that had made it even more important to her. That fact alone had convinced her that he must have meant it; that he’d been being honest.
Her scant—but intense—interactions with the blond wizard always made her pause in accepting the Weasley verdict that he was a stuck up snob and an all-round evil git. The man had been polite to her when he’d come across his bratty son abusing her in her first year, and he’d chased the boy away. This made her laugh softly; yes, Draco had been a bratty horror back then. My how things have changed, Hermione thought, but she soon turned back to considering Lucius again. The few times she’d meet with him after that he’d been faultlessly polite, and here was Severus offering to allow him to participate in their relationship; it felt strangely like a full circle.
However, that was when images surfaced unbidden in her mind and saw Lucius as she had the last time she’d seen him in his awful house… when that witch had… that time he’d somehow been broken, but… No she best not think on that. She cleared her throat as her mind wondered back to the end of term when Severus had taken her to Malfoy Manor before to search for Draco. That trip hadn’t caused a panic attack, on the contrary, she’d felt safe with Severus. She shook her head, it was all confounding her. She hadn’t actually had any problems since she’d been away from Hogwarts… and Ronald. No! Could it be Ron and all his hang ups that caused her the problem? She snickered softly; well, it didn’t matter if it was or wasn’t Ronald now, she’d most definitely burned that bridge.
She exhaled a long breath, trying to cleanse herself of her thoughts. The problem was she’d always loved Christmas with the Weasleys and she’d sent presents this year, but nothing had come in return. She shrugged and sighed once more. She couldn’t contemplate a better life for herself than the one that she currently had, and she smiled as she thought once more on who could have predicted that two years after the war she’d be surrounded by Slytherins, and totally at ease with it all.
She was very grateful that she was here; this place was perfect for her… Severus was perfect for her, and she sighed as she looked around his huge library study. He had made her feel so at home. He’d even procured her a desk of her own—it had been part of her Christmas present—and she ran her hands over the silky wood now as she thought about it.
He was including her in his life, and she couldn’t be happier. She knew he cared about her, and she would happily be his partner in life and in pleasure, but she was certain that they were never going to be an ordinary couple. He wanted his freedom, and he deserved it after all the vows he’d been subjected to. She was not going to hold him back, and while they were happily residing here now that might change.
She sighed. She did not want it to change, but she supposed that at some point the master would deem her no longer his student. She hoped that was a long way off yet, but she had to be realistic. Yesterday Harry had been worried about her just moving in with Severus. “Isn’t it too soon for that?” he’d said with his usual worried frown on his face.
“It just feels right,” she’d told him with a shrug. She trusted Severus, but she knew he might not always want her around, and this brought her thoughts back to Lucius. Severus wanted to add Lucius to their arrangement, and she was looking forward to seeing him again, but was he proposing Lucius as an alternative to himself?
Yes, he still wanted to be with her, but already she’d seen a restlessness in him and she wondered how long it would be before he acted on it. Would he wait for Lucius to be released? Did she have until Lucius was granted parole or would Severus want his freedom before that?
There had been murmurs in The Daily Prophet this morning about what Severus had told her days ago and that was that Azkaban was overcrowded. One solution that was being pushed by Kingsley Shacklebolt was to allow some of the less dangerous prisoners to have their magic dampened and be released early to live in the community under house arrest until their sentences were served.
From what she’d heard about it, Rabastan Lestrange would be one of the prisoners this might apply to, but would Lucius be one as well?
Her mind truly was all over the place at the moment, and the thought occurred to her that even if she couldn’t go for a run, she could dance through her routine for New Year’s Eve to clear her mind. Just as she’d made up her mind to change into her dance gear, Severus’ raven patronus arrived in front of her.
“Hermione, come down to my lab. I require your assistance.”
She knew better than to reply, as Severus would not be expecting a reply and it may disturb a crucial stage in his brewing, especially if he required her assistance. He had explained to her in their first days together that unless she was unable to come at his summons for some reason that she should not bother replying; she should simply come. She smiled, welcoming this as her distraction instead of physical exercise… and in any case, her summons may turn into physical exertion anyway if past experiences were a guide.
Rising from her desk and only sparing a glance for her unfinished work and letter, she started walking towards the door that went down to the underground cellar that now housed his extensive brewing area. To be fair, the back part of the room was still a cellar that housed a broad and exclusive collection of wine and liquor, but you accessed that through a second door now, and Severus had claimed a large part of it as a working area.
Because it was underground, the temperature in Severus’ lab was fairly constant, and it did not surprise her to find it rather warm as she opened the door and slipped inside.
“Take over stirring. I need to make some notes and calculations before the next step,” he stated as he saw her.
Hermione shed her coat and quickly picked her work apron from its hook and tied it on. As she approached she heard him say out loud, no doubt for her benefit, “Seventy-six,” and she slithered in so she was in front of him at the bench, and placed her hand over his.
“Seventy-eight,” she recited with him, having mentally added seventy-seven whilst moving into position and ascertaining the rate and rhythm of his stirs and then adapting to it.
“Good girl,” he praised, squeezing her bum as he stepped back to leave her to it. “One hundred and fifty stirs, and then set a countdown timer for ten minutes.”
“Eighty. Yes, Severus,” she replied, their conversation having her adding another number in between in her head as she watched him turning away out of the corner of her eye and she continued to count.
Severus went to the paper strewn desk and pulled a particular parchment free and started making notes on it. He continued to write as Hermione stirred, and she was so focused on her task that initially she didn’t hear him coming back to glance over her shoulder. “Add ten more stirs,” he commented, chuckling when she jumped slightly. He caressed her waist. “Settle,” he told her in a velvet whisper close to her ear before disappearing back to his desk to write more notes.
She shivered at the sound of his lovely voice but managed to keep her count and her rhythm as she kept stirring. The next time he arrived behind her he stood very close and his hands arrived around her waist again. He waited for her to finish counting stirs, including the extra ten he had told her to add. Then he watched her set the timer display above the cauldron, and only then did he turn her around. “Thank you,” he murmured.
She saw the glint in his eye. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” she questioned.
He reached around and untied her apron, pulling the strap that secured it around her neck over her head. “What were you doing up there all alone?” his lovely voice rumbled.
“I was trying to research for my project.” She looked at him with honest eyes.
“But?” he questioned, easily seeing that something had been distracting her.
She smiled. “I’ve been having trouble concentrating today.”
“Ah,” he murmured sagely. “Were you thinking about Lucius?”
“Yes, but not just about him.”
“Indeed,” he intoned, and that eyebrow rose. “Then if you cannot concentrate upstairs, why don’t you disrobe down to those delicious looking stockings I saw you put on this morning and recline on the lounge in the fur rug so I may see you while I finish my work? You can continue to ponder your thoughts, and I can look at you.”
She smiled knowingly, and walked over to the lounge he had facing his desk and did as he’d asked; easily slipping out of her clothes in the warm room and laying on her side in the long strands of the white synthetic Yeti fur rug.
He glanced over at her as she made herself comfortable on the lounge, dressed only in her lace-top stockings, and he thought she looked wonderful. It was the image of her laying in a similar position to this that he’d sent to Lucius in the dream spell he’d attached to his last letter.
The only difference that time was that it had been evening and she’d been wearing a gauzy salmon coloured peignoir, and it had been open so he could see her sheer white underwear, only she’d not been wearing it properly. She’d only had the bra covering one breast, and she’d removed one leg of the knickers, holding them in her hand as she displayed herself for him. She’d looked lovely lying on her back on the fur rug showing her charms off, so lovely in fact that he’d captured the whole picture in his mind for Lucius.
She was very accommodating of his whims to see her lying around naked, and she was surprised with herself for not thinking it a gross waste of her time; in fact she rather liked it. She usually occupied herself with a book while she lay there allowing him to look at her, but today she merely watched him in return. He finished his work and wasted no time in coming over to her. She smiled and rolled onto her back.
“This is very comfortable and warm here,” she told him.
“Is it indeed. So why were your thoughts preventing you from researching?”
She laughed prettily, and snuggled into the fur a little further. “Too many things on my mind today. For one thing, I was also trying to write a letter to Lucius, and I was thinking about how we are…” but then she shrugged one shoulder, a little uncertain as to how much she should say. “Lots of things really.”
“Yes, I can see that,” Severus replied, sitting on the lounge as she opened legs to accommodate him. He started running a warm hand up the leg closest to him, watching his hand’s progress as he caressed her gently.
His hand was slowly getting closer to where he intended to go, and she was wriggling, trying to get his fingers where she wanted them, but he was stubbornly maintaining his own schedule.
“I’d be interested to know what you were thinking about us,” he said, his hand finally arriving at the apex of her thighs and opening the lips of her sex up to his view.
She leant back, closing her eyes. “Mmmm,” she hummed.
The index finger of his other hand came forward and started rubbing the slick flesh, as he watched what he was doing and his voice caressed her senses. “Are you concerned that I might want you less when Lucius is involved?”
She opened her eyes and watched his dark eyes rise to meet hers. “Maybe,” she hedged. “Severus, I know you want your freedom, and you deserve to be as free as a bird, but I do not want to lose you.” Her lip slipped between her teeth. “I guess I’m worried that things will change.”
His finger stilled, and he looked at her seriously. “Things do change, little witch. It is the nature of life.” He watched her eyes open wider, and he was quick to reposition himself so he could pull her onto his lap.
She settled against him as he started speaking again. “I have seen a shadow in your eyes since I told you about Lucius. Tell me what’s bothering you.”
Hermione looked up at him and spoke. “I do not want to appear clingy, but I’ve been feeling like you’re about to leave.”
“Why would you think that? I have no thoughts at the moment of going anywhere without my trusty assistant. Hermione, I do not wish to give you up. What fool would?”
“You haven’t?” she questioned, genuinely touched by his admission.
“You’re a conundrum, my dear. One moment you’re brash and sassy, and the next you’re an innocent,” he chuckled, and claimed her mouth in a luscious kiss. When their kiss ended she was panting slightly and he chuckled at her. “You should have worked out by now that I like to watch as well as participate. Yes, there will be times when I wish to go away alone, but I will not leave you until I have to, and on those occasions, when I return I will happily admit you to my bed once more.” He gestured around himself. “You are to consider my home, your home. The only thing I ask is that you do not bring anyone here who I have not approved of. There are far too many sensitive books, papers and artefacts here to allow…”
Her heart was singing, he wanted her to stay and she placed her finger on his lips. “I would never bring anyone here you did not know and approve of, Severus. I value the sanctuary of this house too.”
“Excellent. Then you will continue to be my assistant, and play the coquettish innocent for our pleasure?”
She smiled. She hadn’t thought that she’d have liked playing an innocent—and he was also right in saying that sometimes her act was genuine—but the role was addictive, and he was so good as pleasing her. Her role with Severus was kind of an extension of Raven, who danced so brashly and teased so perfectly, but remained clothed while the dancers around her did not.
“It would be my pleasure,” she replied, feeling his hands starting to caress over her.
“Then straddle my lap and fuck me,” his voice demanded.
She grinned at him and moved so her legs were on either side of his legs, and his hand arrived between them as she started opening his trousers.
“That’s it, my dear. Gently,” he commanded, watching her small hands easing his trousers down his legs to allow his cock to come out.
Her hands rubbed him and she took the step forward so she was straddled over him and then lowered herself onto his cock.
“Good girl,” he told her, his hands now caressing her breasts as she rose up to plunge down again.
He cradled them and caught one of her nipples in his mouth and happily suckled on her while she rocked up and down on him, supporting herself with one hand on the arm of the lounge and the other on his shoulder.
She moaned her pleasure, and then again when his finger arrived on her clit while she impaled herself up and down repeatedly on him.
Sliding forward on the lounge and planting his feet firmly on the floor, he started rising up to meet her on each downward stroke, pushing his trousers further down his legs to allow him to flex better. It was as he was being consumed by the feel of her tight heat around him that he considered that this was the perfect relationship for him. This was just right. She was someone who—like Lucius—could keep up with him intellectually, even if she still had much to learn, and she also valued the same things as he did.
However, the best part was that the world saw them both as boring straight intellectuals, and that was so far from the truth, but her with her tight bun, and her reading glasses perched on her petite nose, her straight, staid robes and serious attitude, what else could people think? His thrusts sped up just thinking about it as he took her by the waist and started controlling her rising and falling, and he brought them both to their climax working her over him, pulling her down over him over and over. Bringing her down one last time, he held her there as her heat gripped and clenched around him and he spilt his seed deep inside her. Then with the last of his strength he pulled her up before he was finished so he could watch the last of his cum marking her.
“Beautiful,” he panted. “Simply lovely,” and his eyes watched the liquids leaking out of her where their bodies had been joined. “I can’t wait to watch Lucius fuck you.”
He pulled her to him and she curled up on his lap again. “Have you watched Lucius before?” she asked timidly.
He stretched slightly and chuckled. “Yes, many times.”
“Has he watched you?”
He smiled, and kissed her. “Yes.”
“Have you participated together?”
“So many questions,” but it was not a criticism. “Yes, we’ve both fucked the same witch.”
“Would you like to do that with me?”
“Definitely,” and he started caressing her again. “Do you think you might like that?”
She smiled coyly at him. “Perhaps…” but then a slow smile spread across her face. “Yes, I think I might.”
“Excellent,” he said.
However, as open-minded as she was, the thought of two wizards whom she thought were incredibly sexy focused on her made her blush scarlet. “How many libraries are we going to visit while we’re away?” she managed to say.
The smile that had been playing around his lips increased. “Oh, a change of topic.” He gave her a knowing look, and he chuckled when she ducked her head into his coat lapel. “I have confirmed visits to the wizarding sections of one German and three Austrian historical libraries throughout the New Year period.” He kissed her temple. “I believe that will satisfy your craving for libraries, just as I seem to have satiated your hunger for wizards.”
Her eyes were round and sparkling as she hugged him. “Yes, oh yes, that sounds wonderful. It’s true you have done both, and I’m so very happy.”
He chuckled sinfully. “Indeed.”
“I wish we could visit Lucius now,” she murmured, snuggling in to Severus.
“Little witch, I believe you may have some misinformation about what will happen when we see Lucius. He will not be permitted to touch you. He will be chained to the chair.”
“Oh no…” and she looked at Severus with huge eyes. “I t-thought that conditions in Azkaban had changed now,” she whispered.
“They have,” Severus assured her. “Prisoners are now allowed visitors, cigarettes, soap and reading material. They were not before.”
“What about clothes, blankets and decent food?”
Severus could see her ire rising, and he wondered what she was planning to do about it. “While it is true that they only have one prison uniform, they do have a blanket and are provided with sufficient food.”
Hermione still looked irritated, and he clarified.
“Hermione, there is little you can do to improve what is a vastly better system since the dementor spell was lifted.”
“The dementor spell?”
“Haven’t you ever wondered where dementors came from?” he asked.
She sighed. “I’d suspected, but I never definitely knew.”
“What did you suspect?”
“That they were the souls of those who died in the prison,” she stated, looking earnestly at him.
He nodded. “That is partly correct. They are dead souls. Those who have broken their soul so many times that there’s nothing left but an empty shell. It is an eternal punishment. The dementor seeks to suck everything good from his victim to stop the pain inside himself. It is the worst kind of dark magic.”
She blinked at his explanation, but then shook her head. “So, the worst kind of dark magic in a place that bans dark magic.” She barked a mirthless laugh and shivered. “Isn’t that bloody typical of wizarding Britain?”
“Yes, it is,” Severus replied. “I’m afraid our conversation has made you cold, dear one,” and a swish of his wand had her and him clothed again.
Hermione had to say that she felt better discussing things of this nature with clothes on, and she snuggled back into his offered warmth, as she said, “But doesn’t magic like that leave a stain even when it’s removed?”
“It does,” he replied.
Now she was clothed again she seemed to settle a little, and Severus took the opportunity to end the conversation. “Come, little witch. Let us forget about Azkaban. I have some research to do in the study before I can go any further down here, and you have your own project to finish. Thank you for an immensely pleasant interlude,” he said, caressing her once between her legs before gently pushing her up off the lounge.
Chapter 21: The Creation of the Countess
Notes:
Disclaimer:-
I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.~~~***~~~
A/N:- Thank you to Golden Asp, for her beta work on this chapter, and to everyone for their comments and kudos, I hope you enjoy this next chapter, and that where ever you are in the world that you’re staying safe and healthy.
Chapter Text
Since no one in the Maple Lane project was planning to return to Hogwarts after Christmas, the planned fact-finding tour of Europe’s premier burlesque houses during the holidays had been cancelled. They were now only going to Germany on New Year’s Eve to see Hermione perform, and the Maple Lane project—which needed extensive building work completed on it—sank somewhat into the background. After all, there was little that could be done until the basic remodelling was complete.
Their original New Year’s Eve plans were still going ahead, and Hermione was meeting with Marta for a final run-through with her once she was in Germany. In between now and then she was using the raised duelling platform at Flintlock to go through her routine daily, but every time they’d gone there since she’d first used the space with Marta, Severus had spent his time being her body guard rather than her audience. Flint had obviously opened his mouth to the others and they were all trying to see what she was up to. This was problem number one.
Then there was the party of people coming to the actual event on New Year’s Eve, which had also increased from the original five. Harry now wanted Ollie and Sirius to come, and Marta had invited Marcus Flint. Then Blaise and Draco wanted their collection of fangirls to come as well, so with Hermione and Severus the party had effectively more than doubled in size.
Sirius had made a spectacular return to wizarding society once Severus had confirmed for Harry that he was indeed who he said he was. An interesting development on that front was his return to the Weasley family. They had accepted him with open arms and he now seemed to be making it his mission to heal the rift between them, Harry and Hermione.
The biggest problem there was that he did not have all the facts, and Hermione was currently urging Harry to confide in Sirius the real problems between them and the Weasleys before he found himself in the midst of an armed stand-off.
However, Harry was just unwilling to admit his inclination to Sirius yet, and Hermione was fairly certain that if Ron knew anything about it, he wasn’t going to tell. It would be just too confronting for him. However, that was not mentioning Ginny’s part in their disagreements.
Then last night she’d received a panicked owl from Harry saying that Sirius wanted to invite the younger Weasleys to New Year’s Eve, and Hermione had paled, and that was when Severus had replied on Hermione’s behalf.
Mr Potter,
Make Black understand what is going on.
I am not going to tolerate imbecilic Weasleys ruining something that Hermione has worked very hard on.
-
S. Snape
~~~***~~~
As to this moment however, neither Hermine nor Severus had received a reply from Harry. They were having breakfast in their bedroom by the fire and Severus was reading more about the proposed prisoner release program to Hermione. However, he was having a hard time keeping his eyes to himself as his witch sat opposite him demurely in her red silk dressing gown. He knew that she was naked under it—as he was under his—and his imagination was running away with him as he watched her nipples pebbling under the caress of the silk.
He finished reading and she sat back in her chair further, making her ample breasts more visible as the material of her gown parted when she moved. He felt his cock twitching in interest and he watched her lovely cleavage as he listened to her comment.
“I wonder how much of this The Prophet is making up?” she said thoughtfully, as she took a sip of her coffee and noticed where his eyes were looking.
Severus placed his coffee back down and his eyes moved up at her face. “I would imagine that a good portion of it is hearsay. However, the core of it is true. I spoke with Shacklebolt about it last night at the meeting I went to.”
“Well, that’s good news,” Hermione commented. “Mind you, I suppose they’ll have all kinds of strict stipulations for inmates to qualify,” she added, sounding more than a little displeased.
“No doubt,” Severus replied, turning the page and forcing his eyes to the paper, but his expression turned sly and he pursed his lips and smiled smugly as he started reading again.
Hermione pinned him with astute eyes. “You know more than you’re telling me, don’t you?”
Severus chuckled, his sly expression turning into a smile as he looked over the paper. “Shacklebolt also admitted that they were willing to work with wealthy inmates.”
“That’s blackmail!” she declared.
“Nevertheless,” Severus replied, setting the paper down altogether and taking the last mouthful of his coffee. “I do believe that it is blackmail that Lucius would be open to,” he continued after swallowing.
“And what about your other friend, the Lestrange man?”
“His appeal is almost complete. I am confident that he will be released into Draco’s custody within the next week.”
“And Lucius would be released into yours?”
“Yes. Does that trouble you?”
“No,” Hermione replied evenly.
“Excellent. Now, there is something else I’ve been meaning to mention to you.”
“Yes?” she questioned.
“With talk of idiots being included in our party on New Year’s Eve, and all the trouble we’ve been having with prying eyes while you rehearse, I believe it might be fortuitous for you to have a public alter-ego for your stage character here in England. You know, throw nosey parkers off the scent so to speak.”
She looked at him thoughtfully. “I’ve never considered that, but you’re correct. If I wish to remain anonymous, adding another layer to the deception would make it harder to draw the correct conclusions. That would be wise,” she agreed. “Do you have something in mind?” she asked, knowing full well that he probably did.
“Yes, something regal,” he pursed his lips. “Contessa Balfour… Contessa Hortence Balfour,” he told her smugly.
“You have given it some thought then,” Hermione replied, meeting his smug smile with one of her own. “And who, is Contessa Balfour, Severus?”
“An aristocratic you, my dear. I want you to allow your imagination to play,” he suggested with a raised eyebrow, as he studied her over the paper he’d just picked up again.
Severus had been giving Hermione tuition in the art of Legilimency and it had given him the opportunity to see into her mind on several occasions. In her mind, not only had he seen her utter devotion to him, and also her attraction to Lucius, but also many bits of herself that she had not yet recognised.
As she thought on what he’d just told her, Severus considered Hermione’s devotion to him. Lucius was the only other person that Severus trusted completely. Their friendship had been tempered through fire and it was unbreakable, and he was certain that adding this little witch to it would complete things.
He had realised some time ago that there had been things about their own relationship that Lucius had not told him, yet he understood why. He’d recognised that they’d bonded the first time they’d slept together, but he’d only pickup up on who their third was to be from teaching Hermione Legilimency.
Severus had been surprised when he’d found that Hermione had been capable of Legilimency, that she’d only had to unlock that part of her brain which facilitated it just as he had when he’d started learning the art. Sometimes gifts we are born with go dormant after a time if they’re not used, and they just need the correct trigger to make them spring into life.
Her early life with two strict parents had stifled her creative side, and that’s really what Legilimency was, a creative use of the mind. Her parents had been strictly people of science, and their reinforcing that answers to everything were to be found in books had been a serious mistake in Hermione’s case. This was something that he was pleased to see now that she’d seemed to have overcome to a greater extent.
He then became aware that while he’d been thinking she’d finished her breakfast and was about to leave the table. “Where are you going?” he questioned.
“I was just going to shower and get ready for our walk.”
“You seem very eager,” Severus replied.
“Yes,” and she smiled. “I have something to show you.”
“Indeed. Should I accompany you to the shower?”
“I’d like that, but it’s after the shower I’m more interested in.”
“I’m certain I can make your shower worthwhile as well, Hermione,” he said, leering at her.
Hermione snickered and started walking towards the bathroom, slipping out of her dressing gown on the way and turning to him. “Promise?” she said over her shoulder.
“Promise,” he told her, rising to follow her.
It was as he was stalking towards her that Severus realised something. In a very short time they fallen into a perfect routine, and he was running the risk of becoming lost in this witch, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. This then led him to consider what he’d been thinking about her completing things. Perhaps he should bind himself to her; he’d never found another person—apart from Lucius—whose company he accepted like Hermione’s.
It was something to consider. However, then he thought of Lucius and he realised that they both needed to bond with Hermione so she could enter into their relationship equally between them.
He caught Hermione just as she turned the shower on and grabbed her around the waist, spinning her around and pulling her to him. His mouth descended onto her hers as he backed her into the water.
You only needed to turn the water on in his shower and it was the perfect temperature. It would never burn you or freeze you; it was always perfect.
They came to a stop against the cold tiles of the side of the shower and Hermione gasped a breath in as her back connected with the wall. This made Severus chuckle darkly as his mouth took a path over her jaw and onto her neck.
Her gasp of surprise soon turned to moans of want as he licked and sucked at her pulse point and flexed his hips to slide his cock back and forth at the apex of her thighs, teasing her, grazing her clit with his rigid tool with each pass. This had her gasping and wanting more as the water cascaded down over them.
“Oh Severus,” she groaned, and wound one leg up around his hip. “Please,” she gasped.
He lifted his head from adoring her neck, and looked at her, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Please what, dear one?”
“In,” she replied.
“No, tell me exactly,” he commanded.
“Please, fuck me,” she replied in a heated whisper.
His mouth found hers again and he slipped his cock into her already grasping sex. She moaned and he chuckled into her mouth as he started thrusting. She was simply perfect, and he suddenly found himself shocked that he thought that, but he didn’t miss a beat, and he happily lost himself in her.
~~~***~~~
They finally made it outside for their walk, and somewhere on the way through the frozen wonderland that made up the gardens and the forest beyond, Severus had decided that he did indeed need to wait for Lucius to be free to secure this witch, but that he would have to take her entirely into his confidence before Lucius was freed.
It was a fact that they had only been together as a couple for a short time but in that time he had come to trust her completely, and this surprised him too. However, he’d had the added security of being in her lovely mind to reinforce his resolve that he was doing the correct thing.
He glanced at her now, and he reflected that she was indeed the wonder. She was his Hermione again now, but after their shower she’d amazed him at how quickly she’d come up with an alter-ego.
She’d dressed in the many petticoats and frills she’d come to prefer since they’d been together and she’d charmed her mane of hair into sleek glossy raven locks and arranged it in a curly chignon, then she’d changed her eye colour to violet and dressed herself in a matching violet coloured corset, black lace top stocking and stylish kitten heel ankle boots.
She was still wearing those undergarments, but now she also wore a warm woollen cloak over her violet silk blouse, black skirt and jacket, and the cloak was fur lined around its edge.
“You approve?” was all she’d said, a salacious smile curving her painted lips as his eyes drank in the changes to her hair and eyes while his gaze panned over her lovely body in the decadent underwear.
“Most definitely,” he’d murmured, pulling her against him and dancing them around the bedroom. He loved dancing with her, and realised that they hadn’t danced since the tango in Potter’s bar. He needed to rectify that, and he thought to New Years; they definitely should celebrate together.
“What are you thinking about?” Hermione asked, pulling them to a stop amidst the snow covered landscape.
Turning her, Severus pulled her into his arms. “Perhaps we’ve walked enough today, Hermione. I have some things I wish to tell you. Would you allow me to apparate us back to the house?”
She nodded, and in a blink of an eye they were back in the cosy study with her still in his arms. He gently pushed her back and undid her cloak.
Once he had both of them free of their outdoor clothing, he walked to the sideboard and poured two tumblers of whisky. “Here, this will warm you,” and he handed her one tumbler. However, his choice of words as he continued seemed like a change of subject. “There may be the need on occasion for the countess and you to be in the same room,” and he watched Hermione’s face turn puzzled, and this made him wait for the inevitable.
“Is that what you were thinking while we were walking? How would that be possible?” she asked.
He chuckled, and again he didn’t answer her how she expected. “Perhaps it’s time for me to tell you how I survived the day of the battle.”
She blinked at this next abrupt change of subject and gave him her full attention. “Umm… okay.” Severus often explained things like this, so while she registered that they were speaking about two entirely different things, she knew that he would make it clear by the end of his explanation.
“At first I meant to show you my memory of that day, but then I considered that I did not wish you to relive that horror, therefore I will give you a practical demonstration. Make yourself comfortable.”
Hermione took a sip of the amber liquid in her tumbler, and sat on the lounge as he sat beside her.
“You wish to know why you never assisted me when I appeared in such dire need of assistance.” He took in her sweet face watching him, and he saw the familiar guilt she wore like a mantle cloud her face. Perhaps he should have addressed this earlier. Well, no matter he was dealing with it now. “I sent you away, Hermione,” he stated, watching her.
She gasped. “You what? How?” Her face contorted in confusion. “You did? No!” She brought her eyes back up to his and shook her head. “No! You were dying. How c-could you send me away? I didn’t see you do that… Severus?”
“Shh,” he said, placing a long finger on her lips, urging her to wait while he explained. “You did not see me because you were not looking at me.”
However, his explanation only confused her further. “Sorry?”
“When you and the others entered the room that day, I was standing behind you. What you saw in front of you was only part of me.” He took her hands, she looked like she was about to explode from confusion and he could see the questions bubbling up in her mind. “Settle, dear one, and watch.” He went to his wall safe behind the landscape picture and opened the blood lock. He healed the small prick mark on his thumb and then pulled two items from the safe. A phial that glittered gold, which he placed in his pocket, and something in a deep burgundy velvet bag.
He closed the safe and walked back to her. “This is believed to have been destroyed,” he said, handing her the small bag.
Hermione gasped as she opened it, and glanced at him for permission to empty it into her hand and inspect the contents. “The Philosopher’s Stone,” she whispered reverently, her eyes taking in the beauty of the stone that seemed to have a fire of its own in its depths that crackled and burnt as you moved it in the light.
Fire had always been Hermione’s one weakness. She loved her bluebell flame; she could now conjure creatures in it and wield them to do her bidding. “It’s so beautiful,” she murmured.
Severus watched her eyes glazing over as she looked at the stone, and he knew he’d found the next alchemist. He covered the stone with his hand before pulling her chin around so she was looking into his eyes. “Tell me your thought before they dispel,” he commanded.
“The fire,” she replied, gazing directly into his eyes in invitation. “Look,” she sighed, melting against him.
Severus eagerly dove into her mind to capture her feelings on the subject. He understood that sometimes words did not do feelings justice. In one of his earlier excursions into her mind he had seen a glimmer of what he’d just discovered, but now, well her passion was beautiful. He saw pathways to innate knowledge connecting, that like other part of her mind had been dormant, unused, and he saw how it changed and enhanced her.
He pulled from her mind and drew her to him, holding her as she processed what had just been revealed to her. Finally she pulled back slightly and looked at him.
“The stone is an organic entity. It has so many uses, but most wizards have only ever been concerned with its ability to prolong life.”
“This is true, but I had to read many dusty tomes to find that out, and I still do not have the knowledge to brew more than a handful of the potions. I am a clumsy wielder of its power, but I suspect that you can commune with it.” He stroked her face with the back of his hand. “I am very pleased that Albus did not know what we have just discovered.”
“Why?”
“Because he was every bit as dangerous as Riddle. He would have used and burnt your mind to get the secrets of the stone.”
Hermione gasped. “But I thought…”
“And you—like everyone—thought incorrectly, dear one. Albus Dumbledore was a wizard who had everyone’s trust, but he was as cruel and callus as his opposite number. The cagey old bugger never destroyed this stone. He simply hid it again and that night on the Astronomy Tower he placed the knowledge of where to find it in my mind before my curse hit him.”
“My goodness,” was all Hermione could manage to say.
“You are now the only other living person apart from Lucius who knows of the stone’s existence,” he told her. “In some ways this binds us together in more ways than a simple marriage bonds ever could.” His eyes connected with hers. “Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Hermione?”
She smiled at him. “Yes,” she replied, and she watched him replacing the stone into the pouch. “When can I start working with the stone?”
Severus chuckled. “There is much control you must learn first, Hermione. Many control issues, because the stone would have devoured you had I not covered it. We will continue with our lessons and I will tell you when you’re ready.”
She nodded. “Very well.” Then she remembered the other thing he had taken from the safe. “What did you put in your pocket?”
“Ah, yes,” and he pulled the phial of glittering liquid from his pocket. “This the reason you didn’t see me the day of the battle. I stumbled across this little gem in one of the books Albus bequeathed to me.” He uncapped the potion and drank a small portion, he didn’t want to waste a whole dose. “It is like the liquid form of a Gemino spell, but it doesn’t produce a useless copy, it temporarily splits a being.”
Hermione gasped as without warning another Severus was suddenly standing beside the one holding the empty phial.
“Oh my,” she said, standing and approaching them. “How long does it last?”
“Under normal circumstances approximately an hour, but today it will only be a few minutes,” he said. “I took the potion before I went in to see Tom Riddle that day and I followed my copy in under a disillusionment, so I was behind you when you, Potter and Weasley entered the room.” Here he took her by the shoulders and said, “And I sent you away, dear one, because you told Potter and Weasley that you were going to help me.”
Hermione gasped. “Yes, suddenly I followed them,” she cut in, understanding finally dawning. “That was the bit I couldn’t understand,” but then her words trailed off.
“The time was not right for you to know which side I was on, and I had the situation in hand. Potter needed you more. I apparated my second self here after I’d managed to staunch the flow of blood, and the elves tended us. When we reconnected it took me almost two weeks to be able to move from my bed, but I was alive and thankfully the war was over.”
“Oh, Severus,” Hermione whispered, and she stepped into his arms. To her surprise his second-self stepped up and enclosed her from behind.
They stood together for some time, but then Hermione said, “And the stone allows this transformation to happen without harm to the person or their soul?”
“Yes, as long as neither the person nor their copy is killed in the time they are apart,” and he caressed her cheek. “That is why I needed to get my copy away so urgently.”
“But I still could have assisted you,” Hermione declared defiantly.
“Hermione, I only just stopped the bleeding in time, if I’d had to explain what I was doing to you as well it would have taken time I did not have. You have my sincere apologies for the pain I’ve obviously caused you in delaying my explanation, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”
She looked at him and nodded. It still felt strange that she’d left him seemingly alone, but now she knew why. “Yes, now I understand, and you’re right, back then I would have cost you too much time. Thank you for explaining this to me,” and she leant up and kissed him.
Of course, their kiss didn’t take long to turn heated. Hermione was used to Severus being a very passionate person under all his control, but she was a little shocked when his second-self brushed the hair away from her neck and started kissing the column of her throat.
She’d never been with two men at the same time before, and the idea of doing so now really excited her. Apart from anything there were two Severus’ with that sinful deep-throated rumbling chuckle that made her knees weak and her knickers wet, and that was enough to have her breathing hard as two sets of hands caressed her. “I can’t help but wonder what it would be like having two of you,” she stated, her voice airy as she spoke.
Severus chuckled. “Unfortunately, today isn’t that day,” and he was suddenly one person again. “There is something else that this potion will be able to assist us with.”
Hermione could not help but be disappointed, but she smiled at him. She just knew by his words that this wasn’t the only time she would see this potion. “What else could it help with?” she asked genially.
“If you and the Countess have to be in the same room at the same time for example. I do not like where this New Year’s Eve fiasco is developing,” Severus told her, “it’s all very worrying.”
“Oh yes, I see your point,” she replied. “Mmm, it has gotten out of hand.”
“It certainly has, Black and Potter can be menaces sometimes,” Severus stated.
“They mean well.”
“That’s debatable,” Severus muttered.
Hermione slipped her arms around his waist, and resting her chin on his chest, she looked up at him with warmth in her gaze. “Why don’t we curl up and read by the fire for the remainder of the afternoon?” she said, giving him a warm smile.
The weather had suddenly closed in again, and rain was coming down in torrents outside, so the fire side seemed like a wonderful place to be.
Severus nodded. “That could be easily arranged,” he said smirking, and he leant down and gave her a kiss before leading her to the fireplace. He had no intention of reading, and was now wishing that he’d indeed taken the full dose of the potion, but it was a tedious potion to brew at best and they might need the remainder of that dose.
Chapter 22: Shifting Responsibilities
Notes:
Disclaimer:-
I neither earn nor own anything from this story except my plot. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates.~~~***~~~
A/N:- I’m publishing this chapter without my beta having seen it first, so please forgive any mistakes, it will be betaed in due time. I just wanted to get this posted as it’s been far too long since I’ve updated it, or anything else for that matter.
I’m sorry for the length of time between updates on all of my stories, I’ve been going through some personal stuff, and it kind of took over.n.b.- I've also corrected my miss-spelling of 'Rabastan' in the preceding chapters, as pointed out to me by a helpful reviewer :-), thank you. However, I've decided to leave the contraction of his name, 'Bastian', as used by the Slytherins with it's 'i'.
Chapter Text
Hermione still lay sleeping while Severus pondered their situation, it was something that he had been thinking about all day, so it was not surprising that it had also broken his sleep. Apart from the issues with Black’s idiocy and Harry’s reaction to it, his main concern was far more personal. As much as he wanted to wait to bond with Hermione until Lucius was free, that was not going to be so simple, as Lucius’ wife was still living. His magic’s urge to bond, forming a triad with his lovers was very strong, but it was something that Severus had chosen not to think about often, as he knew that it was mainly wishful thinking.
He exhaled a long breath, frankly he’d come to see—especially now that Hermione was here with him—that it wasn’t going to happen. Besides, Severus knew that it would destroy Draco completely if his father divorced his mother whilst she was unaware of what was happening, regardless of whether Lucius and Narcissa had been planning to divorce or not before she’d been cursed. Add to this, the last thing Lucius needed right now was any more negative publicity, and that’s exactly what the press would seize on if the ex-Death Eater decided to rid himself of his supposedly dying wife.
Therefore, they were all stuck with the situation now until it resolved one way or the other, and there was nothing else they could do. After all, there was still the possibility that Narcissa might get better, Draco would get his mother back, and he, Hermione and Lucius would be free to do as they pleased.
Severus would not wish harm to Narcissa, the situation he found himself in was of magic’s making, not man’s, and despite what many people thought of him, he was not a cruel person. In fact, he was a very loving and giving person to those he cared about, therefore, he needed to allow the situation to play out as it would.
As he thought on this Hermione stirred in her sleep and snuggled in closer to him, and his heart filled that she wanted to be as close as she could get to him. Severus knew that it was her magic subconsciously entwining around his, and he loved the feel of her magic around his. Her magic was a sinuous, living entity, and where he was concerned it seemed to be insatiable. This thought made him chuckle deeply, just a whisper. Despite the fact that they’d had one another several times yesterday and last evening, he knew that she’d be willing to indulge him again now at a moment’s notice. Yes, her magic was insatiable in the pursuit of her pleasure, and he knew well that their lovemaking pleased them both very much.
He looked at her in the early light of dawn, and saw her naked torso bare of even bed clothes. Even in the winter cold the room was warm, and he gently pushed the bed sheet lower so he could see his most favourite place of all. As he did so, he considered that it should be bothering him that he was now referring to their play as ‘love-making’ and not straight out fucking, but he couldn’t bring himself to worry about it, and with that thought he realised that he loved this witch with all his heart and soul. This thought astonished him; he hadn’t considered that he could love again, not after Lily, he supposed what he and Lucius had was love too, but he’d never thought on it like that.
Sighing softly in pure contentment, Severus allowed his longest finger to reach out and ghost over her sweet pussy. It was completely visible to his eyes as his witch had gone bare in preparation for her costume tomorrow evening, and Severus loved the look, the thought that her most private part was now also completely exposed to his eyes pleased him greatly.
She moaned in her sleep, the sound no more than a whisper, but he knew that he was affecting her and leant over and kissed her. “Open up and let me see you,” he murmured against her lips.
Her eyes remained closed, but she knew exactly what he wanted, and she rolled slightly and opened her legs for him. He kissed her lips again, and then licked down her chest, pausing to roll one nipple around his mouth before sliding lower to situate himself between her legs. There she was in all her glory, the sight he loved most in the world. He couldn’t wait to show Lucius this sight too, but he wouldn’t send him another dream spell. No, Severus wanted Lucius to discover this sight as he first had with her hovering over his mouth. It was his favourite position, and he knew it was Lucius’ too, especially when the watcher was sucking your cock.
Merlin he couldn’t wait to have Lucius here too, their lives really would be complete, and his eyes stopped watching as his fingers pulled her labia wider and his mouth took action kissing and licking against her gaping little hole and then licking up to give her clit the same treatment.
Soon she was running with juices and moaning softly, her pussy undulating against his mouth. “Severus,” she sighed.
“Mm?” he groaned, engrossed in his actions.
“In, love, in… please,” she begged.
He could feel her tightening into an orgasm as she spoke and he became relentless, rubbing his mouth and nose on her.
Moments later she cried out in pleasure, bathing his face. He grinned and surged up, burying himself inside her quivering quim. Another screaming moan left her lips and she tightened around him as he started thrusting. He loved how tightly her cunt squeezed his prick, and he set about pleasing himself with her, his eyes watching his tool thrusting in and out as his balls swung in the inertia created, he didn’t think he would ever get enough of this witch.
The morning sun breeched the horizon as he reached for completion. He could feel his orgasm approaching, his thrusts became erratic, and his mouth opened in bliss as with one final thrust the dam broke and he came for the first time that day.
Her arms welcomed him as he collapsed on top of her. “Good morning,” she sighed, close to his ear. “I will never tire of being woken this way,” and her mouth searched for his to affirm her resolve.
~~~***~~~
After their satisfying early morning start, the day took off at a cracking speed for Hermione and Severus. Currently, Hermione was practicing for her performance in the Flintlock main duelling arena and was trying to forget that the period between Christmas and New Year was being punctuated with any owls from Harry because Sirius was acting like a big kid.
Hermione was polishing the magical ‘tricks’ in her number today, the special little bits that elevated her routine above a purely Muggle one. She was really looking forward to getting into the actual club on Maple Lane and helping with the stage design, but renovations were not starting until after New Year’s, so there wasn’t even a stage at present.
The Flintlock main arena, where she currently was, had an observation gallery and Severus was leant on the supporting rail watching her. He knew that she was very frustrated, and he was very annoyed about it all, and was doing his best to protect her from the idiocy of her friends, but it just kept coming.
He looked around as Marcus Flint opened a side door with a ‘staff only’ sign on it that led out of the gallery area and quietly walked up to him.
Severus’ eyes narrowed. “I thought I said no interruptions,” he intoned softly.
There was a warning timbre to his voice that Marcus knew well. “Apologies, Severus,” he replied. “But I thought you’d like to know that Potter is here and yabbering on about needing to see Miss Granger urgently,” and his eyes flicked down to the arena where Hermione was, to see her spiralling around in the air trying to coordinate her airborne pirouettes with the music. The aerial swing they’d set up—which was really more of a trapeze—was not as decorated as the one she’d be on tomorrow, but it did the job as she practiced her exit. She’d been going at it for close to an hour now, it was difficult to get it just right, and Hermione always liked everything to be as perfect as possible.
“Is the nuisance boy alone?” Severus asked, watching Marcus’ eyes raking over Hermione’s scantily clad form, and knowing that it was inevitable that men would ogle her, as long as no one touched then that was fine. Severus was fairly certain that Flint would never betray his trust, in the same way that he trusted Harry Potter with Hermione. Flint wasn’t gay, but Severus knew very well that the Flintlock manager was well aware that he would be minus a very important part of his anatomy if he touched Hermione.
The Potions Master had come to terms with Harry Potter, and was willing to be in business with him and show him regard because Hermione valued him, but he was creating so many problems at present through those who hung off his shirttails that Severus was finding him burdensome once more.
Flint looked back to Severus. “Yes, and he’s looking nauseatingly needy,” he replied, his face remaining emotionless, although his lip twitched to lift into a sneer. He had little time for the hero boy-who’d-lived, finding him far too precious and troublesome. “You know, there aren’t many witches how could hold their own in that arena down there. Has Hermione ever thought of duelling?” he asked.
Severus looked down at his witch. “No, I don’t believe she has, but you’re right, I’m sure she’d be excellent, she certainly has the required nimbleness that most lack. He watched her for a moment longer, but then exhaled a long breath. “Very well, escort the boy in here to me.”
“Yes, Severus,” Marcus replied, and turned to leave.
Apparating down to the duelling arena where Hermione was still busy, Severus couldn’t resist spiralling up to meet her as she left the ground. He instantly fell into step with her and pulled her into his arms bringing them both back to the ground.
She was panting softly and glowing with perspiration, and he smirked at her. “We’re about to be interrupted by the boy-blunder, would you like to take a break?”
“I hope he has good news about the situation that Sirius has created,” she replied, giving Severus a kiss in welcome as she happily wrapped herself around him.
He raised an eyebrow. “That is doubtful, Flint said he was looking nauseatingly needy,” and he lifted an eyebrow when she gave him the ‘don’t be like that’ look. “His words,” Severus stated, like that made it all alright.
Hermione sighed. “Oh dear,” she murmured, heaving another breath in and out.
Summoning her outer robe, Severus settled it around her shoulders and handed her a towel to wipe her brow.
“You take such good care of me,” she told him, smiling and reaching up to kiss him again.
He accepted her kiss and deepened it for just a moment before quietly apparating them up to the gallery. “It is my pleasure,” he whispered into her ear before turning to face Marcus and Harry.
“I’ll leave him to you,” the Flintlock proprietor stated, and turning, he left.
“Mister Potter,” Severus intoned in greeting, feeling Hermione stepping up closer to him after picking up her water. All this trouble was making his witch very uncertain, and that was not something that he was going to tolerate for much longer.
“Thank you for allowing me in, sir,” Harry replied. He knew how secret these practices were for both of them. “It’s just that I wanted to speak with ‘Mione, you see, something’s happened and I think that it will affect New Year’s Eve.”
Severus gestured to one of the comfortable looking seating areas in the deserted gallery, and guided Hermione over to it, his hand in the middle of her back.
Harry followed, watching them moving as a couple. They don’t know how lucky they are to be a normal couple, he thought, but he turned his attention to Hermione as she settled next to Severus.
"So, what has happened now?” she asked, her exasperation bleeding into her words.
Exhaling what sounded like a long and pained breath, Harry admitted quietly, “Ron found out about me and Oliver.”
“It is Oliver and I,” Hermione corrected, but then nodded. “So, I assume that does not mean anything good.”
“We were out window shopping in Diagon Alley, that was all,” Harry replied. “Ron and a couple of his other mates came upon us just as Oli placed his hand in the middle of my back to draw my attention to the new broom polish display in the window,” and he shrugged. “It was like a red haze descended on Ron,” and he yelled at us and just started hurling abuse and going for his wand. Soon there was a crowd watching, and the Prophet… It will be all over the front page tomorrow no doubt,” and after admitting all this he fell silent, his eyes cast to his lap.
His predicament made Hermione very angry, because the simple gesture Oliver had used, was exactly the same one that Severus had just used moments before, and it shouldn’t be cheapened just because Harry and Oliver were not a heterosexual couple. “So, where is Oliver now?” she asked.
“He’s getting ready to open the bar tonight,” Harry answered.
“Is he all right?” Hermione continued.
Harry drew in a shaky breath. “It was Oli who kept his cool and got us out of there; he’s fine. However, he shook his head sadly. “As usual, Ron’s nastiness took me by surprise,” he admitted.
Hermione tutted. “You really are going to have to stop thinking that everything is going to be all right there,” she warned sternly, her voice sounding tight.
“Yeah, I know, but…”
“But nothing, Mister Potter,” Severus added, his eyes narrowing as they rested on Hermione starting to become agitated. “You must remember that England is not as progressive as Europe’s wizarding community.”
Harry snorted. “And we’re opening a burlesque club here? Perhaps we all have rocks in our head,” he huffed.
“The one factor that you’re forgetting here is that you’re going into business with Slytherins, and we will not be failing. It will not be as liberal as the European clubs are to begin with, but over time…” and he allowed his words to drift off and a hand gesture to tell the rest of the story.
“Yes, that’s not the problem,” Hermione added, bringing them back to the issue at hand, and getting up she went to sit beside Harry. “Sweetie, I think it might be time for you to make some decisions about things.”
“I’ve already decided to move back to live in my office,” Harry cut in.
Hermione brow furrowed. “That’s a weird choice, surely you’re okay with Sirius?”
“Well, the thing is, there’s something else I haven’t told you too. Umm… Sirius has started seeing Ginny, and she’s telling him all sorts of shit that isn’t true…”
“And of course he’s willingly believing her,” Severus cut in sarcastically, his eyes watching Hermione. “It hasn’t taken him long to return to being the prize prick we all remember,” he muttered under his breath.
Hermione’s head whipped around to look at him sitting on the opposite lounge. “I thought you said that you and he had made up?” she said.
“We’ve more agreed to be adults about our animosity toward one another, it doesn’t mean that both of us will always act like adults. Black has always had a childlike streak as thick as his head. Some days we’re entirely amicable with one another, but others,” and he shrugged. “It’s true to say that we get on now on the whole, but he’s still a five-star cunt most of the time.”
Hermione huffed an annoyed breath. “So, where does this leave us?” she asked, watching Severus lighting a fag.
He took a long drag as he thought about things. “Well, for one thing,” he stated, exhaling his smoke. “This most probably solves the issue of unsuitable persons coming on New Year’s Eve,” and he watched Hermione’s countenance clear a little, but then furrow again immediately after.
“Severus,” she said sternly.
Harry would not have believed it if he hadn’t seen it, but Severus Snape with a child-like innocent expression on his face was a wonder to behold, even Harry knew instinctively that he should keep his mouth shut about what he’d just seen. He sighed. “No, ‘Mione, he’s right. I think to get the chance that I so dearly want with Oli, I am going to have to cut some people out of my life. I’d kind of already done so with Ron, but well Sirius, I was kind of hoping…” but his words morphed into thoughts. However, he was abruptly brought back from those thoughts by Severus snorting as he flicked away his cigarette but into nothing.
“Black screwed around with Lupin for so many years that he’d be a complete bloody hypocrite to give you trouble over your homosexual relationship,” the Potions Master stated as both Hermione and Harry looked at him.
“What?” Harry all but yelled. “Sirius is gay?”
Severus exhaled a long breath. “No, I believe he might be bi, but still, his interest in wands is well-known amongst his peers.”
“I see,” Harry said nodding. “So why do you think he’s suddenly so interested in Ginny?”
“Who knows, perhaps she’d got a cock hidden up her skirt somewhere,” Severus told him, another casual shrug of his shoulder indicating that he did not care one way or the other. What he had noticed however was Hermione’s breath-rate increasing as they spoke about the Weasleys, and it made him even more determined to cut the redhead’s out of their lives.
However, that was when a nasty thought slipped into his mind, and he wondered—since they had as yet failed to pin down the cause of her panic attacks—if Hermione had been subjected to something post war, the memory of which someone had removed from her mind afterwards. Often an Obliviate—especially if not cast well—left an echo of the event that could cause an unknown distress without the person able to remember what had taken place to begin with.
As Severus was thinking this, Hermione cleared her throat delicately, her hand coming up to it as the characteristic tight cough arrived, and it spurred him into action.
The Potions Master rose from the lounge and came across to her. “Breathe slowly, my dear,” he advised. When she looked up at him, he saw panic starting to settle in her eyes. “Count, seven backwards from eighty-two,” but her eyes seemed to glaze over and he took her by the upper arms. “Concentrate, sweetheart. Count with me, seventy-five, sixty- eight,” he intoned, and heard her whisper to him.
“S-Sixty-one…” and she coughed, her breathing becoming strangled.
“Look at me… Keep counting, Hermione,” he commanded calmly, as panic rose within him. He did not have any potions with him to assist her, something that very rarely happened, and he was just thinking of sending Potter to get Flint when the boy started assisting him to calm her.
Seeing what Severus was doing Harry joined in. “Fifty-four, ‘Mione. Count,” he told her.
At last she seemed to start joining them as they attempted to get her mind off what it was fixated on. “F-Forty-seven… F-Forty… umm… Thirty-three,” she said with more resolve.
“That’s it, good girl,” Severus told her, and he pulled her to him holding her tightly. Then he quickly swiped a silencing spell around her as he saw Harry’s mouth open to speak.
“She hasn’t had a panic attack…”
“Since we left Hogwarts,” Severus cut in.
“Then why now?” the Gryffindor wizard wanted to know.
Severus’ eyes narrowed. “I’m almost certain that it has something to do with the younger Weasleys. It is always after trouble from them or talk of them that this happens.”
Things started dropping suddenly into place for Harry, he’d never considered it like that before. “Yes, Sir, I think you might be right,” he agreed.
Severus scowled. “Oh, I’m so pleased that you agree, Potter. So, if only for your friend’s sake sort this mess out and remember we have made great concessions to try and accommodate every additional layer of complexity of this issue into our lives, now the least you can do is sort this fucking mess out before it ruins something that is very dear to Hermione’s heart. Excuse us, I wish to escort Hermione home,” and without another word they were gone.
~~~***~~~
“Dearest?” Severus said softly, as they landed in their bedroom.
Hermione looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I’m sorry, Severus.”
He leant down and kissed her gently. “It is of no consequence, as it is not your fault. Come, let us get you into the shower.”
Her lip quivered. “Could we have a bath, please?”
“Of course we can,” he replied, the smile he reserved for only her on his face.
She snuggled back in against his strength as she heard the water starting to fill the bath. She loved his prowess with wandless magic, and she soon smelt the scent of lavender and roses curling out the bathroom door. This was followed by Severus easily picking her up, and she happily let him.
“Let’s get you comfortable,” he told her, having immeasurable patience for this witch. This was something foreign to him, but very welcome indeed. Severus found that he loved nothing more than caring for Hermione, and he smiled as he whispered a banishing spell.
Their clothing vanished and he stepped into the bubble-filled, scented bath water and easily lowered them both into the welcoming heat of it.
“Thank you,” she murmured, turning as soon as they were settled so that she was straddling his hips. “I love you,” she told him for the first time, and her mouth covered his.
As they kissed, Severus’ mind rocketed back to his thoughts early this morning as he’d watched her sleep, and he pulled back from her a little. “I love you too,” he told her, the words tumbling out of his mouth easily, something he’d not thought would ever happen. He’d never told another living person that he loved them, and his admission surprised him. His mouth covered hers once more, and he possessed it, devouring it while his hands caressed her curves.
He could feel wetness on his face and was shocked to find that they both had tears leaking from their eyes. His voice was rough with want as he told her, “You’re so very special to me, and I do love you truly.”
“Severus,” she sighed, and it sounded like a benediction, as her hips started rocking against his cock trapped between them. She sighed in pleasure into their kiss. “I feel the same, I’m so lucky to have you,” she told him and lifting up a little, she worked on positioning herself so she could bury his rigid shaft inside in her heat. She needed him so much right now, and he did not disappoint, allowing her to take what she needed from him.
Knowing how worked up she got dancing for him, it didn’t not take him by surprise when almost immediately she shuddered into a climax, crying out as her excited channel squeezed and massaged his prick. It wasn’t enough to make him come, but he was content to allow her the comfort of their coupling at present; he would satisfy himself later.
Therefore, with their bodies still joined, he set about cleansing her, and once she was all washed and fresh, he lifted them out of the bath and wandlessly dried them before carrying her to the bed.
Sighing she wound her arms around his neck, encouraging him to follow her on as she opened her legs to accommodate him and smiled happily up at him. “Thank you,” she said.
Kissing her, Severus said, “You are most welcome,” but then he added, “I believe that it might be a good idea to travel to Germany tonight instead of tomorrow.”
She turned her head sightly. “What about the rest?”
“Draco and Blaise can find their own way there, I will owl them momentarily, but frankly I couldn’t care less how Mister Potter is going to get there.”
Hermione exhaled a long breath. “But I’ll still let him know that we’re going.”
“Very well,” Severus agreed. “And I will add a note to the end of your missive reminding him who his actual friends are.”
She tittered softly. “You’re amazing, love.”
He smirked. “I aim to please,” and his lips descended on hers. “Before we leave I will also file an application for myself and the Countess to visit Lucius upon our return,” he told her, pulling back from her lips again.
Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist and smiled softly at him. “I’d like that very much,” she replied, but soon her voice became lost in their passion, especially as he lined himself up and slid into her once again. “Oh, yes,” she sighed, closing her eyes and clinging on to him as he thrust into her, every push sending her just a little higher. “Oh, Severus.”
“That’s it, tell me how much you love my cock,” he replied, moving his hands to adjust her hips so he could reach greater depths.
Her voice rose in a litany of praise for his prowess, and also this improved position, and soon she was squeezing his length so perfectly that he was also lost as she came once again, and they came together.
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