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Hermione stood with her arms crossed over her chest, absentmindedly chewing on her thumb as she stared at the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets appraisingly. Every now and again she broke her trance long enough to scratch the skin at the back of her neck. Harry and Ron stood regarding their friend at what they thought was a safe enough distance to whisper without her overhearing them.
Harry gave his friend a nudge to the ribs. “It’s your turn, Ron.”
Ron snorted derisively. “Not gonna happen, mate. The last time I tried to confront her about her odd behavior, she hexed my eyebrows off.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “The last time you tried to talk to her about her behavior was when you cheated on her with Lavender and tried to convince her that it was her fault. You had that one coming.”
Ron turned crimson. “Fine. Maybe I did, but that’s all the more reason why I shouldn’t be the one to talk to her. We’re finally friends again and my eyebrows have grown back, but in her current mood she might get hex happy again.”
“Are you two finished talking about me like I’m not here?” Hermione called back to them without taking her eyes off the serpent-studded sink.
Harry crossed the room to her, putting a hand on her shoulder and turning her to look at him. “I’m sorry, Hermione. We’re just concerned. You’ve been acting strangely the last few weeks.”
Hermione’s head tilted to the side as she looked at him quizzically. “How so?”
“Okay. Well, let’s start with the fact that you’ve been spending most of your spare time in Professor Snape’s quarters.”
“Minerva and Filius asked me to help them organize his personal effects and his library.”
Harry shook his head, his gaze dropping to the floor. He slipped a hand into his pocket and held a single glossy black button in front of Hermione’s face.”
Hermione’s brows furrowed as if she didn’t recognize it, but a soft gasp gave her away. “What’s that?”
“You know what this is.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Hermione! Why have you been taking Snape's clothes to your rooms? I found this in your sitting room when we visited you for tea last week. You’ve also started smelling like birch and tea tree oil and bergamot…like him. Did you take his shampoo?”
Hermione assiduously avoided his gaze, but her face burned with the thought of the dozens of frock coats and linen shirts and cloaks tucked into the cushions of her couch and under the pillows and mattress of her bedroom. If Harry was concerned about a button, it was quite likely he’d be alarmed with the candles and aftershave she’d pilfered, much less the journals and potions books that had fostered a sense of closeness to the deceased potions master.
With his usual compassion and sense of propriety, Ron chose that moment to barge into the conversation. “Yeah, Hermione. It’s all a bit strange. I know you’re disappointed that I chose Lavender over you, but pining after a dead man is pathetic even for you.”
Harry grabbed Hermione’s wrist just in time to save his friend from a well-aimed hex. He leveled Ron with a glare. “This is why I can’t take you anywhere. Just let me handle this.”
Ron exhaled a sigh of relief. “That’s what I’ve been wanting from the beginning.”
Harry let his hand slip from Hermione’s wrist to hold her hand in his. “I’m your friend, Hermione. I want to help you, but I need to understand.”
Hermione turned away from him, gently pulling her thick curls over her shoulder to expose the nape of her neck. Harry was surprised to see what appeared to be a figure eight or infinity symbol tattoo. “This doesn’t really clarify things, Hermione. Why did you get a tattoo?”
Hermione shook her head, bringing Harry’s hand up to feel the skin. He gently squeezed the area, noticing an egg-shaped bump in each of the two loops of the infinity symbol. It instantly reminded him of Dudley’s bout with mononucleosis, and he was on the verge of recommending that she visit Madam Pomfrey when Ron interrupted his train of thought.
“Oh bloody hell, Hermione. You and Snape?”
She narrowed her eyes, staring daggers at the clueless ginger. “There’s nothing wrong with Severus.”
Ron sputtered indignantly. “So it’s ‘Severus’ now, is it?”
“Given the circumstances, I think it’s appropriate.”
Harry held up his hands to interrupt. “I’m completely lost. What circumstances? Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?”
Ron shook his head in disgust. “Apparently Hermione shares a soul mark with Snape. I didn’t even think it could happen to someone muggle-born. Soul marks have only been documented in pureblood families.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Most historians think that claims of soul bonds in pureblood families were fake. They were just a means of justifying systemic prejudice and inbreeding, a way of preventing marriages to anyone not in the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Real soul bonds are quite rare.”
Harry pointed to her neck. “And what are those lumps under the mark?”
Hermione touched her hand to her neck, trying to soothe the constant aching she’d been experiencing over the last week. “They’re scent glands.”
“Her soulmate will bite them when they bond.” Ron stifled a gag.
Hermione smirked. “After he knots me, of course.”
Harry immediately looked confused. “What’s a knot?”
Ron looked conspicuously ill. “Don’t ask, Harry. You really don’t want to know. Besides, this is all a moot point. Snape’s dead.”
Hermione shook her head and gestured to the sink. “I’m going to bring him back, but I need one of you to open the Chamber for me. It’s not like it’s the first time we’ve been here.”
Ron shook his head in disbelief. “The last time we opened that door, we only did it because we were desperate from being hunted by a murderer. Before that, Harry and Ginny nearly got themselves killed and you were petrified for half of the bloody school year, or have you forgotten?”
“That has nothing to do with my current object. Tom Riddle used this room for his own purposes, but neither he nor Salazar understood its true nature.”
“Its true nature? Let’s take stock, shall we? Everyone who goes in there either dies or gets damn near close to it, and now you say you want to go there to retrieve a dead man. Offhand, I’d say death is the lowest–” Ron’s brow scrunched in concentration. “The lowest–what’s that expression–”
“The lowest common denominator, Ronald,” Hermione snapped. “For Merlin’s sake, if you don’t have the vocabulary for the analogy, then kindly restrict your dunderheaded remarks to Quidditch scores.”
“Dunderheaded?! You’re even talking like Snape right now. Do you even hear yourself?”
Harry had largely tuned out his friends’ fighting, stepping up to the sink and murmuring the sibilant susurrations to gain entrance to the chamber. When Hermione heard the gears turning and realized what had happened, she instantly abandoned her argument with Ron, leaving him crimson-faced and slack-jawed in her wake. She planted a hasty kiss on Harry’s cheek, along with a delighted “thank you” and rushed into the room.
Harry and Ron followed close behind her. Ron lasted approximately ten seconds before berating his friend. “Why did you do it, Harry? She’s gone round the twist and you’re only encouraging her.”
Harry was unfazed. “She’s my friend, Ron. If this is what she wants, I’m going to help her.”
Hermione walked out onto the stone bridge that crossed over the obsidian waters of the Chamber, passing between the serpent’s head statues on her way to the open mouth of the Salazar Slytherin effigy on the far side.
Ron mumbled to himself as they followed, staring absentmindedly into the opaque water. “I ask him and my sister to invite Lavender to a family dinner and he’s reluctant, but the second Hermione asks him to get arse-deep in the River Styx, he’s on-board.”
“Acheron.” Hermione had turned to face them.
“Excuse me?”
“This is the River Acheron, not the Styx.”
Harry looked past her shoulder to the effigy. “So Salazar Slytherin built the Chamber of Secrets on a mythological river?”
“No. The only thing that Salazar built were these ridiculous serpent statues. He also raised the basilisk that you killed. Beyond that, nothing here belongs to him. In a particularly Slytherin move, he did none of the work and took all of the credit.”
Ron snorted in derision. “Really? Then whose face is that right there, Hermione?”
Harry squinted as he looked at the effigy more closely. “It’s Hades, isn’t it?”
Hermione beamed at him, thankful that at least one of her friends wasn’t an idiot. “That’s right. Don’t touch his statue, but come closer and listen.”
Harry followed her, not bothering to hide his surprise when he heard voices coming from the mouth. “It’s like the veil in the Ministry.”
“Exactly. The difference is that this entryway is still situated in its original location. The veil in the Ministry used to be located on the Black Water in the mountains of the Peloponnese. It was one of the entrances to the underworld on the River Styx.”
“And you’re going to cross the veil to bring back Snape?”
“Yes.”
Harry looked at her, searching for any sign of reluctance or doubt. “You’re sure this is what you want?”
“I’m positive.”
He sighed before his features adopted the resolute look he got when he made a decision. “Alright then. What do you need from us?”
Ron’s jaw dropped. “US?! What do you mean ‘us’? I’m not helping her with this insanity. Even if it works, the idea’s completely mental. She wants Snape to be her mate!”
“And my husband,” Hermione interjected cheerfully before dropping her voice to a whisper so that only Harry could hear her. “I don’t know what I’m walking into on the other side, Harry. I don’t know what state either Severus or I will be in if I’m successful. I may need your help getting us back to my chambers, and then I’ll need you to let Headmistress McGonagall know that I succeeded. She knows what I am planning to do. Severus and I will need to bond quickly and repeatedly for him to remain here.”
Harry couldn’t help the blush that crept up his cheeks at the implications. “I’m not going to say that I don’t have my concerns, but I’ll help you.”
Hermione pulled him into a hug. “Thank you, Harry.”
Ignoring Ron’s vociferous ranting behind her, Hermione turned to the mouth of Hades and crossed over the veil to the underworld. A chill washed over her that was reminiscent of attempting to cross through protective wards when one is an uninvited guest. She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the feeling to pass.
She knew where she was before she opened her eyes. The smells of old parchment and book bindings were overwhelming, and she opened her eyes to see afternoon light pouring in through the west windows of the Hogwarts library. Hermione would have thought she was in the real library except that the usual sounds of robes swishing, quills scratching on parchment, and Madam Pince’s whispered admonitions were conspicuously absent.
This space was shrouded in an eerie, oppressive silence. The research on the underworld was limited, with most writers relying on vague myths and mindless speculation in their approach to the topic. In spite of her thoroughness in reading what little literature was available on the subject, Hermione had to admit that she had no idea how to start in her search for Severus.
She yelped when a familiar baritone echoed through the room. “Is it not enough that you had to interrupt my classes with your incessant questions and insistence on regurgitating textbooks, Miss Granger? Isn’t death enough to protect me from insufferable know-it-alls?”
She spun around, eyes wide as she took in the imposing figure of Severus Snape. He wore the same frock and robes that he did when he was professor and headmaster. His appearance was unchanged from the last time that she saw him in the Shrieking Shack. His long, black hair flowed down his back, a touch of silver gracing each temple. He stood with his arms crossed, but the hint of a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. The glint of amusement in his eyes suggested that he wasn’t occluding.
“Severus…” His name came out breathier than she intended.
She crossed the space between, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist as she buried her nose in the wool of his frock. His entire frame went rigid with shock, but Hermione was undeterred, humming softly as she breathed in the heady scent of birch bark and bergamot. She sighed in contentment when strong arms finally folded around her and the tip of a hooked nose nestled on the crown of her head.
“I take it you have something you wish to say to me, Miss Granger?”
“I do, and I take it from your current response that you’re well aware of our connection.”
“My current response?”
Hermione turned her head to look up at him, propping her chin on his chest. “Well, you’re not shouting at me about assaulting your person or lecturing me about how you’d much rather have a leech attached to you than me.”
Severus chuckled. “It’s true that leeches are useful in a number of valuable potions…Ouch!” He reached behind him to rub a spot where she’d pinched his left buttock. “That seems altogether uncalled for, Miss Granger.”
Hermione grinned up at him. “That’s Hermione or Professor Granger to you, Severus, and it was well-deserved. You were being cheeky.”
He removed his arms from her and crossed them over his chest, smirking when she whimpered in protest. “Is this the sort of abuse I get to look forward to on a daily basis, harridan?”
She played with one of the buttons on his frock in an effort to mask her nerves. “Only if you decide to come back with me.”
He snorted in amusement. “You want me to come back from the dead…for you?”
Hermione sensed that he was teasing her, but the small part of her that feared he could never be interested in her clawed its way to the surface. “Oh…I’m sorry, Severus. You spent so long serving two masters to protect us. I don’t want you to feel forced to be with me if you don’t want to. You deserve better than to be chained to yet another person.”
An arm snaked around her waist as long fingers made their way into her hair. “Don’t be foolish, Hermione. I’m glad you’re here.”
She closed her eyes, momentarily distracted by his calloused thumb stroking her cheek and the tip of his nose gently ghosting over her forehead. “I would have come to you sooner, but it took some time for me to sort things out. It was difficult to find anything about soulmates that wasn’t about purebloods.”
Severus nodded sympathetically. “And those are little more than propaganda mills.”
“Precisely! There truly are an alarming number of academic journals out there positing rubbish as credible research.”
“So you met with dead ends?”
“I did until Minerva gave me access to your library.”
Severus smirked. “And how long did you stand there gawking and salivating before you did anything useful?”
She smacked his chest playfully. “It’s not my fault that you have a well-appointed and varied library. I confess that I might have been distracted for an afternoon before I got any serious work done.”
“You found my journals?”
“I did, and I promptly tossed them aside as useless.”
“Rude.” His brows furrowed in an attempt to look stern.
She smoothed his brow with her thumb. “It’s not rude. I could tell that you’d written them to be found by Death Eaters or by Voldemort.”
Severus’s chin tilted slightly, and she could tell that he was impressed with her. “What makes you say that?”
“All of the dates in the journals were during your year as headmaster, and the language was more detached and calculating than your usual writing. I know your manner of expression from your comments on our assignments and from your contributions to academic publications. Those journals were clearly written to convince anyone who found them that you were loyal to Voldemort.”
She continued to fiddle with his buttons, absentmindedly unfastening the first two. “After giving the matter some thought, I remembered that the Half-Blood Prince had a tendency to write marginalia in his books.”
“Indeed. Cheating from my notes was the only way your dunderheaded best friend could pass his sixth-year potions class.”
Hermione ignored the jab at Harry. “I started looking in your potions and spell books rather than your journals, and mixed in with your other notations was a symbol that looked conspicuously similar to the mark that appeared on my neck not long ago. I concluded that you knew I was your mate before you died and that you were trying to communicate some sort of message to me.
He opened his mouth to interrupt, but she put her hand up to stop him. “I also noticed that the symbol appeared in the margins next to a number of plants in your potions books, along with where you went to harvest them: Chrysopleniifolia near the sites of Lake Lerna and Taenarum in Greece; Spino santo on Mt. Etna in Italy, and Skull Mushroom at Mt. Osore in Japan. You marked dozens of them, and they are all associated with entrances to the underworld in mythology and folklore. I inferred that you expected to die in the war, and you wanted to give me a breadcrumb trail to find you.”
“That’s a rather bold conclusion given that you didn’t have any concrete evidence, Hermione.”
“I’m well aware of that, but the part of me that was excited to have any kind of lead in finding you steamrolled over any concerns about research methodology. Tell me, Severus, however tenuous you may find the thread of my argument, am I correct in my conclusions?”
He raised a single eyebrow. “Perhaps.”
She reached up to cup his cheek, and he instinctively leaned into her palm. “Then come back with me, Severus. I want you to be my husband, my mate…my alpha .”
The last word was so hushed that he barely heard it, but a shiver went up his spine at her admission. He gripped her wrist, pulling it away from his face. He made no effort to conceal the riot of emotions flitting behind his eyes. “Hermione, I need you to be very sure that this is what you want. If you choose me, I will claim you. Are you quite certain?”
She smiled then, her expression betraying the affection that she’d begun fostering before the start of the war. “I’m sure.”
Hermione squeaked as he turned her facing away from him, an arm snaking around her waist and pulling her against his chest. He loomed over her as he whispered heatedly in her ear. “So Hermione, it’s not enough to have a husband? You want a mate? An alpha?”
“I want you, Severus.” She squirmed in his arms, trying to turn her head to kiss him, but he held her fast.
He brushed her hair away from her neck with his free hand. “Very well, my little omega.”
Hermione’s back arched into him when his tongue darted over her mark, putting gentle pressure on her scent glands. A growl rumbled against her back as he nipped her neck possessively. “Mine.”
The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled them out of their haze. Severus turned around to glare at the intruder. He kept Hermione pinned against him, unwilling to relinquish her even in the presence of their unwelcome guest.
The man looked very much like Albus Dumbledore, complete with periwinkle blue robes. His gray beard tumbled to his waist, a goblin-wrought silver clip cinching it in place. He regarded them with obvious amusement over his oval-framed glasses. “As much as I hate to interrupt the reunion, I’m afraid I must speak with Miss Granger.”
Hermione eyed him skeptically. “You’re not Albus.”
“Brightest witch of her age, indeed. You are correct. I assumed this particular form because I thought it would make you more comfortable to speak with someone familiar.”
“No–” she cut him off, “you’re going to make a deal with me to take Severus from the underworld, and you thought that taking on the form of an authority figure would make me more likely to capitulate and agree to whatever ridiculous demands you plan to make. I would expect nothing less from you, Hades, but you miscalculated. The man you’re impersonating used us all. Taking his form will do nothing to advance your cause with me.”
His smile wavered for just a moment, showing a hint of the malice that lurked beneath. “I see why you fancy her, Severus. She’s brilliant, and quite magnificent when she’s angry. If I had more time at my disposal these days, I’d consider taking her for myself.”
Severus’ arm tightened around her waist as Hermione scowled at Hades. “I’d never agree to go with you.”
Hades’ voice dropped to a menacing bass. “If I wanted you, my girl, your agreement would be a matter of indifference to me.”
He glanced at Severus, who’d drawn his wand and moved to stand in front of Hermione. “Now, now. No need to get defensive, Severus. I’ve no intention of harming her, and I think you’ll find that my offer is quite reasonable. Eternity can be quite cumbersome and dull, you see, which is why I like to amuse myself with games.”
Hermione peeked around Severus’s side, an eyebrow raised in mocking. “And by games you mean people’s anguish and suffering.”
Hades chuckled. “Not necessarily. The game I propose for you, Hermione, is one of trust.”
“I have absolutely no trust in you, Hades, so how would that work?”
A sadistic smile contorted Albus’ face. “The game would put your trust of Severus to the test. If you can walk from here back to your chambers in Gryffindor Tower without looking behind you to see if Severus is following, you may keep him. If you doubt him and turn around, Severus will be forced back to the underworld, and you will live the rest of your life without your mate. Your little friends may accompany you, but they cannot tell you whether or not Severus is following you. If they do, Severus will be returned to me. And Severus, you are not permitted to speak a single word to anyone during the journey.”
Hermione didn’t respond immediately, content to stare daggers at Hades. He soon grew tired of her petulance. “You can glare at me all you wish, Miss Granger, but this is the only offer I will extend to you. Either take it or stop wasting my time.”
Severus cupped Hermione’s face in his hands, pressing his forehead to hers. “It will get more difficult the closer we get to your chambers. Hades will test you, but you have to trust me. We can do this.”
Hermione nodded slowly. “I trust you.”
She turned back to Hades, unable to completely hide her bitterness. “I accept your terms.”
His smile froze the blood in her veins. “You know of the Three Brothers, Hermione. Even if you win, you know that you can’t escape me forever. Death comes for everyone.”
She gave Severus’ hand a final squeeze, drawing strength from him. “Eventually, Hades, but not today.”
Not wishing to prolong the unpleasant exchange, she turned on her heel and walked out of the library, shivering as she stepped back through the veil. Harry and Ron rose from where they were sitting on the cold flagstones as she approached them. Harry gasped as he looked over her shoulder, and Ron looked as though he’d seen a ghost, which was enough for Hermione to know that Severus had followed her through the veil.
Harry forced his attention back to his friend. “Are you alright, Hermione?”
“I’m okay, Harry, but I don’t have much time to explain. I had to make an agreement with Hades to bring him back. I have to get all the way to my chambers and trust that Severus is still following me in order for him to stay. If I look behind me, Severus will have to go back. You can come with us, but under no circumstances are you to tell me if he is still following me. Severus isn’t allowed to speak to any of us either.”
Harry nodded. “Right. We’re with you. Just out of curiosity, Hades didn’t make you sing, did he?”
“No. Why?”
“Because I used to sit next to you in potions class, Hermione. You always hummed when you were preparing ingredients, and I swear I could hear Fang howling along with you every time.”
Ron snickered into his hand. Severus might not have been allowed to speak to them, but Hermione still heard the clumsy attempt to stifle a scoff in the sleeve of his frock. She rolled her eyes. “That’s quite enough from the peanut gallery. Let’s get going.”
Harry and Ron fell in step behind her, trying to avoid the temptation to gawk at Severus or distract Hermione. As they crossed the Acheron between Salazar’s serpent statues, she felt Severus’s mind reach out for hers.
“Before you needlessly panic, keep in mind that I am not breaking any of Hades’ rules. Having said that, he will no doubt catch on soon and attempt to disrupt our connection, so I suggest we enjoy it while we can.”
He saw the back of Hermione’s head dip slightly, as she was apt to do when in deep thought. “Does our connection make it easier to use legilimency?”
“Yes. In fact, that’s how I became aware of…what we are to each other.”
“How long have you known?”
“Since you were on the run with Potter and Weasley.”
Hermione tripped slightly in surprise, assuring Harry that she was fine when he asked if she was ill. “That long?”
“Yes. I started catching glimpses of feelings, images, and conversations when I slept. At first I dismissed it as concern for your safety, but then I started experiencing it when I was awake.”
“What did you see?”
“It would be difficult to articulate the impressions, but some of them stood out more than others. I felt a sense of betrayal at the actions of someone close to you. At the time it felt as though the feeling was directed at Mr. Weasley.”
“Yes. The locket was affecting his moods. He grew paranoid and couldn’t sleep. He accused me of being romantically involved with Harry or wanting to be involved with him. I wasn’t, of course, but that hardly mattered. He abandoned us. He returned later, but I don’t think our relationship ever fully recovered from it. I’m sorry…this is probably more information than you wanted.”
“Don’t apologize. I want to understand. Sometimes the impressions were of pain. At one point it felt like you were shrouded by a curse. It was devastating to sense that much pain in you. It was worse than the cruciatus curse.”
“That was probably Malfoy Manor. I’ll show you the scar later. Bellatrix used a cursed blade to carve a slur into my arm. I’ve never been so terrified. I was convinced I was going to die, and I undoubtedly would have if Dobby hadn’t saved us.”
“I’m so sorry, Hermione. I wish I’d been there to protect you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You wouldn’t have been able to defend me even if you wanted to without revealing your true allegiance.”
“I still regret it.”
She signed heavily, wanting to change the subject. “What else? Surely not everything you sensed from me was pain.”
“There were…other images as well.”
Hermione could sense his embarrassment, but gently encouraged him to continue. “What manner of images?”
“The flesh of one hand between your teeth as you tried to stifle a groan. Delicate fingers ruffling through dark curls as you sought some form of release from the constant fear and starvation.”
“And?”
“And my name falling from your lips.”
Hermione didn’t answer immediately, carefully considering how much to reveal. Severus made no attempt to view her thoughts without her permission, waiting patiently for her to decide how much she wanted to share with him. “I’ve had what many would call a schoolgirl crush on you for years, Severus.”
“WHAT?!!”
She laughed at his response. A strange look passed between Harry and Ron, but they made no comment. Hermione was just thankful they weren’t privy to her conversation. “I mean it.”
“But I was horrible to you.”
“Sometimes, but you were also brilliant and protective of us even though you weren’t kind. Even if you often mocked me for my questions, you still took the time to answer them.”
“Is this crush the reason you came to my office every day without fail?”
“No. I suspected that Harry would eventually have to leave Hogwarts when the war started, and I wanted to be well-versed in defense and healing before we were forced to run. Getting to spend time with you was just a pleasant bonus.”
“Pleasant? You must be delusional. All that time with the two dunderheads has compromised your high order reasoning skills.”
“Why? Because no one could ever enjoy your company?”
There was a long pause. “No one has ever found it pleasant before, at least not for any length of time.”
“Well I do, which is rather important given my plans for you.”
“Your plans, Miss Granger? And what would those be?”
“To have you wedded and bedded within the week.”
She swore that she could actually feel him smirking. “In that order?”
“Afraid not. I fully intend to have my wicked way with you this very night before I make an honest man of you.”
“That desperate to act on this schoolgirl crush of yours?”
“What I’ve felt for you for the last several years isn’t just a crush, but I am sorry if my thoughts at the time made you uncomfortable.”
“They made me feel bereft. I wanted to go to you, but I couldn’t do so without putting the lives of every child in Hogwarts in danger. I also knew that I wouldn’t survive. It was a foregone conclusion that Voldemort would find an excuse to kill me. The only thing I could do was offer you a path to find me afterwards.”
Silent tears were slipping down Hermione’s cheeks. Severus’ thoughts felt strained when he addressed her again. “Hades is aware of our conversation, Hermione. I won’t be able to hold the connection much longer. You know I don’t have the sort of disposition to be a cheerleader, but you can do this. I’ll be there at the end. I promise.”
Hermione flinched when Hades cut the thread between them. She forced herself to focus on her goal as they emerged through the snake-studded sink tap of the girls’ lavatory. Moaning Myrtle was preparing to lecture her about opening the Chamber of Secrets when she noticed who was following her.
“Oh my. Look what the cat dragged in. Did you have to bring him back alive, Hermione? You could at least have left him a ghost. I rather fancy the dour Bat of the Dungeons, after all.”
Ron snorted at the joke, but Harry elbowed him in the ribs. “Sorry, Myrtle. I’m afraid Severus isn’t allowed to speak to anyone right now. Besides, he belongs to Hermione.”
Hermione smirked. “That’s right, Myrtle. No one gets his lovely knot except me.”
Her senses were suddenly overwhelmed with a scent that reminded her of silver birch trees and oranges and chopped herbs. Heat immediately pooled between her legs, and for a brief moment she thought her knees would buckle. The room felt very warm, the glands on the back of her neck itching uncontrollably. It took her a moment to realize that Severus had enjoyed her possessive instincts and released a cloud of pheromones.
Had they been safe in her own chambers, she would have been thrilled, but as matters stood she still had multiple corridors and staircases to navigate before she could respond to his overtures. He’d unintentionally made the challenge more difficult for her. It took every ounce of her restraint not to turn around and plead with him to bend her over the sink, Moaning Myrtle’s prying eyes and her friends’ protests be damned.
She forced herself to keep walking, encouraging Harry and Ron to hurry as best she could without revealing the nature of her distress. She was surprised at the reception they received as they made their way through the quiet corridors. The students were all in their beds, but the portraits and ghosts were happy to burn the midnight oil and greet their unexpected visitors.
They largely ignored Hermione with the exception of a nod of acknowledgement, as they were accustomed to seeing the transfiguration professor on a daily basis. A few said hello to Harry and Ron, but since the pair were frequent visitors to the castle, the portraits were far more interested in Severus. Portraits of several former headmasters and renowned potions masters greeted him warmly.
Hermione heard the heavy chains of the Bloody Baron dragging over the flagstones as he came to greet the former headmaster. Even Nearly Headless Nick expressed pleasure at seeing his return. She took courage from the voices and laughter that suggested that Severus was still with her, but she knew that Hades was likely to remove even this small comfort before they reached their goal.
As she arrived at the staircase for Gryffindor Tower and began the ascent to her rooms, the sounds disappeared altogether. No laughter and chatter from the portraits or ghosts. No footsteps of people behind her. No asinine comments from Ron or chastising from Harry. It was as though a silencio charm had been cast over the whole castle.
She tried to reason with herself. Severus warned her that Hades would test her. In spite of her best efforts, doubt began to creep in. Surely she should still be able to hear some evidence of them behind her. Anything.
She stood at the entrance to her apartment. The portrait of former headmistress Eupraxia Mole regarded her calmly, waiting for her password.
“Harry? Ron?”
The answering silence jarred her nerves, chipping away at what little confidence she could muster. They’d abandoned her. She knew it. Her best friends were laughing at her. Severus would rather go back and live alone in the underworld than be with his former student. Just as she was about to turn around to confirm her worst fears, hands landed on her shoulders to prevent her.
Ron’s voice was quiet but resolute. “Don’t turn around, Hermione. If there’s one thing I regret, it’s leaving you and Harry alone. I don’t want you to have to feel that way. Don’t give up on Severus.”
Hermione’s mind reeled. How was she supposed to believe him? He’d spent weeks gaslighting her while he carried on with Lavender. He’d been obnoxious in expressing his dislike for Severus and the futility of this exercise from the beginning.
It suddenly dawned on Hermione. Her current thoughts were remarkably similar to her doubts and anger when she’d carried the locket before they knew how to destroy the horcruxes. Hades was using her memories and past frustrations against her. Ron had already apologized for leaving them and for not being honest with her about Lavender, and she’d forgiven him.
Hermione tilted her chin to meet Eupraxia’s gaze. “Nest.”
The door to her chambers opened, and Hermione walked into her sitting room, hearing a soft snick as the door closed behind her. She couldn’t tell based on his scent if he was there because she’d doused her entire living quarters in his aftershave and shampoo and potions ingredients in her effort to prepare their nest.
She heard a rustle of robes behind her, but continued to stand stock still, not even daring to breathe until lips brushed the back of her ear.
“Good girl.”
Goosebumps erupted on the skin at the nape of her neck as strong hands turned her around. Obsidian eyes bore into her as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Well now you’ve done it, Miss Granger. You’re stuck with me. What have you to say for yourself?”
Her arms snaked around his neck. “Mine.” She stood on tiptoe to press her lips to his.
Severus growled as he hauled her roughly against him. He didn’t bother with preambles, deepening the kiss, only stopping to chuckle when she made a faint whining sound in the back of her throat to demand more. Hermione matched his fervor with her own, the years of repressed longing evident in her touch. As the heat quickly rose in her, she grew impatient and seized his frock, ripping frantically until buttons scattered over the stone floor.
“That’s enough, Hermione.”
She flinched at the coldness of his tone, and quickly found her mind at odds with itself. The rational part of her brain understood that her actions might be construed as aggressive, not to mention the fact that it was rather rude to destroy his clothing in a lust-induced frenzy. The other part of her, however, the omega that she had only recently discovered, was mortified at having displeased her alpha.
“I’m sorry. I just–”
“Stop.”
His tone was gentler, but Hermione felt the subtle influence of the alpha imperative curling around her consciousness. She was vaguely aware that she could resist his influence if she needed to, but found that she was content to let his rumbling baritone wash over her, settling into her skin and wrapping her in warmth.
“You’re so often forced to be responsible, Hermione. You had to take the initiative to adapt to the wizarding world when you had little more than books to help you. You felt responsible for helping Potter and Weasley pass their classes and exams. Dumbledore essentially gave you the task of discovering how to destroy the horcruxes. You made a deal with death to bring me back even though you owe me nothing. Even now you have the care of your students. You’ve always been burdened with responsibility, but not here, my little omega. I will support you in any goal you may choose, but during your heats, you will let me take care of you. Do you understand?”
Her pupils dilated as he continued to meet her gaze, waiting patiently for her answer. “Yes, alpha.”
He smirked at her. “Good girl. Now be still.”
She stood still as he undressed them, shucking his frock and peeling her red jumper over her head. Her black leggings and his trousers quickly found a home on her couch, The lacey black bra she’d picked for just this occasion somehow ended up dangling over a sconce on the wall, and her panties found a rather unfortunate spot draped over the teapot on her sitting room table. Hermione couldn’t bring herself to care as his hands languidly touched every inch of skin he could access.
He pulled her close again, tilting her chin up to look at him. “Do I need to raise wards or arrange for anything that you’ll need for the week?”
She shook her head. “The wards will only allow patronuses to interrupt us in case of any emergency. House elves can enter, but only when we ask them to bring us food or other necessities.”
“Excellent.”
Hermione squealed when he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her down the short hallway to her bedroom. “I think it’s time you showed me our nest.”
Severus placed her on the edge of the bed and crawled up to lean against the mountain of pillows she’d gathered for them, smirking when he saw corners of his cloaks and shirts sticking out haphazardly between the pillows.
“If I checked my closet in the dungeons right now, would I find any clothing left?”
She looked at him sheepishly. “Perhaps a cravat or two? In all fairness, most of my clothing is in here too.”
He inhaled deeply, a low rumble beginning in his chest as he enjoyed her honeysuckle and vanilla scent mingling with his own sylvan strains. “You did well, Hermione.”
Hermione preened under the praise, a whispered “please” escaping her before she could rein in the crushing need for him. His proximity and the almost cloying mix of their scents made her desperate. He took pity on her, pulling her with him until she was seated between his thighs, her back resting against his chest.
Severus still wore his black boxers, but Hermione could feel the outline of his erection pressed to the small of her back. Desire urged her to turn and fish it from his cumbersome garment, but her omega instincts hinted that he would not be pleased with her if she did. Instead she settled for resting her hands on his legs, appreciating the dusting of dark hair on his thighs.
His chin dropped to her shoulder as he relished the sight of her bare for him. “For months I was tortured with broken images, Hermione, fleeting glimpses that nearly drove me mad. Now you’re going to show me.”
Hermione turned to look at him, her confusion evident.
“Touch yourself, omega.”
The command sent a shiver up her spine, and her hand quickly trailed down her stomach and ruffled the dark curls between her thighs. Her middle and index fingers dipped lower, gathering the arousal that started the moment he touched her. She positioned her clit between two fingers, stroking along the sides of the little nub to heighten her sensitivity. Severus groaned as he watched her prepare herself for him, but it didn’t escape his notice that her other hand remained idle.
“Do you mean to tell me that when you imagined me touching you, you never played with these delightful little tits, Hermione?”
Hermione blushed fiercely. “No.”
He chuckled darkly. “Then you’ve a great deal to learn about me, my little omega.”
She whimpered when his large hands cupped her breasts, gently caressing and kneading the flesh. He brought his hand up to her chin, and she instinctively took his thumb in her mouth, delighting in the thrust of his hips against her as she circled the digit with her tongue.
He returned both hands to her breasts, cradling them while his wet thumbs circled around her areolas, teasing them with featherlight touches until they puckered in protest. He brushed her hair away from her neck, exposing her mark and her swollen glands. Hermione keened as he licked a broad stripe over her neck.
Any attempt to think rationally was quickly abandoned as he chafed the calloused pads of his thumbs over the tips of her nipples. He lapped insistently at her neck, nibbling and sucking her scent glands as his long, nimble fingers plucked her pebbled nipples. Hermione gripped his thighs, writhing in his grasp in an effort to tempt him to touch more of her.
“Please alpha…need your bite…your knot…”
Severus stopped abruptly, prompting a whine of protest from Hermione. “You want my knot, little one?”
“Yes!”
He shuffled from behind her, leaning her back on the pillows as he settled between her thighs. “Very well, but you need to be dripping for me before you can take my knot. You neglected your poor little clit while I was touching you.”
She looked chagrined at having displeased him. “I’m sorry, Severus.”
Severus kissed the inside of her thigh. “It’s alright, Hermione. Let me take care of you. Get you ready for my knot.”
“And your bite?” she asked hopefully.
He laughed as he regarded her fondly. “Yes, greedy little omega. And my bite.”
She closed her eyes and sighed in relief, missing the moment when Severus’s chin dropped to indulge in his first taste of her. She cried out loudly enough to draw attention had she not been conscientious about her silencing charms. Her hands flexed over the blankets, clutching them tightly in her fists.
“Open your eyes, Hermione. I want you to watch.”
She opened her eyes to find him staring at her hungrily. He pushed back her clitoral hood to admire the delicate bud. He stared for so long that she started to feel self-conscious under his scrutiny. His eyes snapped back to hers when she squirmed. “You’re beautiful, Hermione.”
He pinched the sides of her clit between his fingers as he’d seen her do, his tongue darting out to flick teasingly over the top. Hermione’s hips canted into him, chasing his touch. “Please, Severus…alpha…I need more…”
His hands splayed over her thighs as pushed them apart to open her for more of his searching tongue and fingers, delighting in the resultant begging from his omega. His chin bobbed rhythmically as his broad tongue assaulted her clit. Two long fingers slipped inside her, gently stroking until he found the spot that made her eyes fly open in shock. He grinned wickedly as he pumped his fingers, crooking the tips to graze over the spot with each thrust.
The addictive mewls that Hermione was making for him suddenly increased in pitch, and he could tell that she was close. He sealed his lips over her clit, suckling and nipping while his fingers worked in tandem to finish her off. Hermione’s fingers slid into his hair and tugged hard as she fell apart panting his name.
He propped his chin on her mons with a smug smirk. “Enjoyed that, did we, Hermione?”
Hermione laughed as she gave his hair another tug. “If I’d known it’d be like this, I would have punched Hades and dragged you from the underworld a long time ago, Severus.”
He chuckled as he rose from the bed. “I’m glad you feel that way, especially since we’re just getting started, Hermione.”
He tucked his thumbs under the waist of his boxers, slowly pulling them off and freeing his erect cock. Hermione’s breath hitched as she gawked at the purplish glans and thick veins. Her mouth watered as she reached to take him in her mouth.
Severus gripped her wrists, his voice turning austere. “Do you just want to play, omega? Do you want me to waste myself down your throat, or do you want my knot?”
Hermione answered by turning over on her stomach, resting her head on her forearms and wiggling her arse at him. Severus groaned, stroking his cock firmly as he fixated on the slick glistening on her folds and the tops of her thighs. He gripped her hip as he sank into her, trying to delay the coiling feeling in his stomach that started the moment he was fully seated in her tight heat.
Hermione pushed back into him, encouraging him to move. He withdrew slowly before snapping his hips forward, pulling a moan from both of them as his skin slapped against hers. Hermione shifted her knees farther apart to allow him better access, and he rewarded her with a hard thrust. He set a brutal pace, his need for her winning out over concerns about longevity or prowess. He reached under her and rubbed firm circles into her clit. His fingers matched the pace of his thrusts, pulling her closer and closer to the edge.
When her walls began to flutter around him, Severus loomed over her back, panting as he whispered. “Do you know what I thought about when I was in the underworld, Hermione? Do you know what made it bearable for me? It was you. It was the thought that one day that brilliant, know-it-all mind of yours would figure out where I was. That you would come to me and I would fill you with my knot, bathe you in my cum, and claim you once and for all. No ginger haired gits or dunderheaded quidditch jocks would bother you. The whole world will know you’re mine.”
Hermione was a weeping mess beneath him. “Yes! Please, Severus! Fill me up! Make me yours!”
With one last pinch of her clit, Hermione’s walls clamped down on him. Severus continued rolling his hips into her. She made only a slight whimper of discomfort when his knot swelled. He leaned forward to wrap her hair around his hand, pulling her back into an arch as he pounded into her, his bulbous knot continuing to swell and stretch inside of her. Just before his knot locked them in place, he leaned over her, running his finger over her mark. He grunted the word “mine” before sinking his teeth into her scent glands. She went rigid beneath him as he thrust twice more, stretching her deliciously as he spilled into her.
Hermione’s entire body was a livewire, the strength of their bond insinuating itself into her nerves. The only comparison she could make was that it was like having a second nervous system. She could sense his feelings and the outline of his thoughts in a way that she’d never been able to master with legilimency. She felt his sense of satisfaction as he moved his hips once more to check his handiwork, pleased to feel how securely his knot locked them together.
He gently rolled onto his side, pulling her with him so that he was spooning her. He checked her carefully, propping a pillow between her knees to open her hips and alleviate some of the pressure from his knot.
He kissed her shoulder. “How are you feeling, Hermione?”
She snickered into her pillow. “I feel like the cat who got to eat all the tuna and take a lovely nap in the afternoon sun.”
Severus laughed at her, returning her kiss when she turned her head to look at him. “Are you hungry or thirsty?”
“Not at the moment.”
“I’ll let it go for now, but after your heat rises again in a couple of hours, you’ll need to eat and drink something. We’re going to at this for an entire week, and you need to keep up your strength. For now, I think it best for you to rest, love.”
He threw an arm over her waist, and she stroked the back of his hand thoughtfully. He licked the back of her neck, soothing the wound. “Before I rest, Minerva has instructed me to tell you that Slughorn wants to retire, so you can teach potions again if you like. The professor currently teaching DADA is just filling in for this term, so you could also have that position if you like. You are under no obligation to teach here, but she wants you to know you’d be welcome if you wish to. We can also move to your old chambers in the dungeons if you would prefer to live there rather than here in Gryffindor Tower.”
She felt him chuckle behind her. “I rather like it here. Everyone assumes that the Great Bat of the Dungeons wants to be underground, but they forget that bats also enjoy flying. I’m inclined to say that I would like to try teaching again, but what will happen if I decide to pursue something away from Hogwarts?”
“Minerva has agreed to allow a floo connection into Hagrid’s hut from wherever we decide to live so that I can continue to teach here.”
“That’s remarkable. Such an offer isn’t extended to faculty very frequently.”
She wiggled her arse against him suggestively. “I can be very persuasive and persistent when I need to be.”
“Thank Merlin for that, my little omega,” he mumbled drowsily into her neck. She relaxed into his embrace as the exhaustion of the day finally caught up with her.
Outside of her chambers, Ron slowly pulled the Extendable Ear back under the door. Harry was shaking his head, blushing fiercely.
“I had no idea.”
Ron clapped him on the back. “Don’t look at me that way, Harry. You’re the one who insisted on knowing what a knot is.”
They slowly made their way down the stairs as Harry wondered how he was going to look Hermione and Severus in the eye when he visited them for tea next week.