The day at Hogwarts had dawned sunny, but windy, and as the hours had progressed it had only worsened. Asher Erised looked pityingly out onto the Quidditch pitch at the poor team who'd booked the hour to practice; it appeared to be Hufflepuff, and she chuckled. Though she had never bought into the House politics and stereotypes, the Quidditch captains surely did, and whoever captained Hufflepuff was exemplifying the hard work and dedication their House was praised for.
"Look at the poor things," she lamented as a small player was buffeted about by gusts. "They really ought to just go in and sneak some cocoa from the kitchens."
"As the Cup is approaching, I think you'll find that a slim possibility," came the wry voice of Hermione Granger. She didn't think much of Quidditch, but understood the gravity of the situation from the players' point of view. "Hufflepuff hasn't had a decent shot at it in decades. Besides, it's nearly summer- cocoa would be too hot."
"Ever the practical one," the teal-winged magpie chimed in, rather uncharitably, from Hermione's bedpost.
"Practicality has its uses, Amon," she shot back. "For example, it's hardly practical for an animal that makes its habitat out of doors to be inside them." She hid a grin from the bird- she knew as well as he did that the wind would bowl him out of the sky. "Unless, of course, it was someone's pet."
Offended, the bird fluffed his feathers and let them down again in a sign of disapproval, but Hermione's goal had been reached- he shut up. One could never tell him to stop talking and expect it to happen- one had to be rather more devious. She happened to know that "pet" was practically an epithet to the magpie, who considered himself an equal.
Asher smiled to herself at the exchange; a year ago, things between herself and Hermione had been tense, uncertain, and difficult, but now they had fallen into a more or less comfortable routine. If anything could be routine at Hogwarts.
They divided time between rooms, because staring at Asher's tower all the time (unchanging except for the occasional migratory flora) had become a bit boring after months, and while Hermione's quarters somehow managed to be feminine and austere at the same time, they had an excellent view of the quidditch pitch, and her bed was very comfortable- and also had an excellent view of the pitch, if you had your feet at the headboard. Amon accompanied them more often than not, having decided that if he didn't tag along, his chance at regular, civilized meals would plummet. Their proposal to McGonagall about consolidating quarters next year had not gone well. Minerva aside, the wizarding world tended to look unkindly upon people like Asher and Hermione, or more often, not look at them at all and pretend they didn't exist. The discussion Asher had had with Hermione about this hadn't gone terribly well, either.
"Hermione, you don't get it," she had said, exasperated. "There's this sense of... Well, that witches and wizards... Not just should, but must plan on having children if they're going to bother falling in love. It's this fear that there won't be enough of us one day. No one says it, of course, but it's there, especially in the old families. They practically want you to procreate before you even meet." This last was said with not a small amount of venom.
"That's ridiculous," the ever-logical brown-haired woman had replied. "There are plenty of us. Hogwarts is certainly full. And we cheeky Muggle-borns keep popping up."
"Look, you can't have failed to notice that nearly everything in our world is old," Asher had persisted, changing tacks. "Hogwarts is bloody ancient. Families have crests that have existed for centuries. If anyone knew I'd made my own, they'd laugh me out of whatever room I was in."
"Not me."
"Of course not you, you're Muggle-born. But if I showed that crest to the Malfoys or the Blacks or, God forbid, my uncle, they'd blast me for putting on airs. New laws with new thinking hardly ever come through the Wizengamot. It's nearly always spins on old ways. More restrictive, even."
"I see your point there," Hermione had conceded, having done rather a lot of reading on that subject. "I just don't see how we'd be hurting anyone."
"It's not about what actually is going to do any harm, don't you see? It's about how it's always been done. And we don't fit into that." Asher sighed. "Have you ever noticed how people like us simply aren't mentioned?"
Of course Hermione had noticed- well, after she'd noticed her sexuality she had, anyway. She'd floated the topic with Harry and Ron once, offhandedly, and Ron had nearly choked on his drink. She recalled the scandalized look on his face and how he'd rapidly found another topic. "I just don't understand how Muggles are surpassing us in this area," she had said finally, chewing a lip. "My parents were a bit surprised, but I suppose with me being a witch they'd already had experience with taking surprises in stride." She had smiled fondly at Asher then. "Doesn't hurt that you're practically a Muggle yourself."
Asher had snorted and scoffed and that had been the end of the serious discussion, but she knew it had been on both of their minds lately. Asher banished her recollection and resumed grading the bane of her existence: essays. They were a necessary evil, she knew, but she despised them nonetheless. Still, she'd managed to have fun with this one; she'd told her students to find the twelve ways that the ingredients in a particular potion could explode if added incorrectly, when in fact there were only ten. She grinned at the tiny writing in front of her- her most apt student in sixth year had become increasingly frantic on nine and ten, and had written three whole paragraphs on how he was sorry that he couldn't find the last two. "Herm, look at this one," she chortled. "Poor lad reminds me of you."
Hermione gave a small frown at the nickname and the implication and took the essay. After she'd looked at the title, she made the noise Asher had given her the moniker for and tsked as she skimmed through. "You're so mean. Even I know there are only ten." She noted that the boy did write in a way reminiscent of her own, but she kept that to herself in order not to give Asher more fuel.
"That's half the fun! Plus, my sixth-years are becoming complacent. I've got to keep them on their toes. At least I'm not using Snape's methods," she added with a bit of mischief.
"I'm not fully convinced they were methods," Hermione muttered. She handed the essay back and wandered to the window. "Oh, the post is here. Wonder what took it so long?"
Asher lifted her head from the parchment to watch the owl wing up to the window. "Here we go…" she murmured.
The grey owl tapped just before Hermione thumbed the latch. It entered and landed on the post-perch, noticed Asher sitting nearby, and squawked, looking as if it might simply fly out the window again without delivering the letter clutched in its talon. Hermione reached out for the envelope, but the owl snatched it away, hopping from the perch to the low table at which Asher sat. It squawked again and flung the letter into her lap, then quickly made its exit.
"Clearly it's not my post," Hermione said lightly, closing the window again. She turned, ready to laugh with Asher over the owl's behavior, but Asher was staring at the unfolded letter with a blank face. "What is it?"
"Here," the other woman said, and shoved it into Hermione's hands as she rose from the chair. Hermione watched her begin to pace, and turned her attention to the letter with creased brows. The heading said it was from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
Dear Ms. Erised,
It has come to our attention that you are a succubus, a non-human being classified under and subject to the regulations and restrictions of Law 5, section J. Per these current laws set in place by the Wizengamot, you must register and submit to an examination at St. Mungo's. Failure to respond to this letter will result in a fine and potential imprisonment. Failure to submit to the law will result in back-fines and further imprisonment. Please respond by 31 July.
Sincerely,
Akers Allsopp, Being Division Head
"You should show this to Minerva," Hermione said, watching Asher's face.
"I know, and I certainly will. What worries me is, how did they find out?" A frown was sprouting, and Asher's dark eyebrows pulled together. "The only people who know what I am wouldn't tell, or have no reason to. Even my uncle wouldn't dream of it unless I'd threatened him, because he's already broken several laws not reporting me in the first place."
They weren't given time to ponder this further, as there was a knock on Hermione's door. She went to answer, shooting a worried look at Asher. Surely the Ministry hadn't sent someone already? She opened the door, and the man who stood there was one of the last she'd expect. "Harry! You didn't tell me you'd be at Hogwarts."
He grinned at her. "I've just taken the position for Defense next year."
"Bloody hell, really?" Hermione exclaimed excitedly. "That's-"
But Harry cut her off, his expression turning serious. "There's something else, too. Can I come in?"
"Of course," Hermione said, stepping aside. He entered, saw Asher, and paled.
Amon, who'd dropped down to read the letter, said darkly, "One guess as to why he's here."
"That's an interesting-looking bird," Harry said. "Hullo, Professor Erised. Is he yours?" The casual way in which he said this didn't quite match his face.
Hermione watched Asher worriedly. The other woman's face had gone carefully blank, almost pleasantly so, and she knew that this look hid fear or anger.
"He is," Asher replied calmly. She knew that the Boy Who Lived-cum-auror hadn't understood Amon's words, and just as well. No need to tip her hand.
"He's a bit scrawny for law enforcement, isn't he?" queried the bird, causing Asher to stifle a chuckle. "Never fear, the man-child is here!"
"Amon!" Asher chided. She sent him a warning look. "Sorry, Mr. Potter. Those are his hostile tones."
"Harry's fine," he replied. "He's not going to, er, attack me or anything?"
"He'd better not, if he knows what's good for him." An awkward silence fell over the room, and Asher quickly realized she was the source. "I'll just be going, then," she said after a few moments. Scooping up her essays, she said, "Welcome back to Hogwarts, Harry," and held out an arm for Amon. The bird didn't move. "Guess he's staying with you, Herm," she continued, and left the room, glad she'd at least know what happened next.
After she'd shut the door behind her, Harry turned concerned eyes on Hermione. "'Herm'?" he questioned. "She's your friend?"
"Yes, she is," Hermione said indignantly. "What of it?"
He cast a silencing spell on the door and said, "Hermione, I came here to tell you what's been going around the Ministry about her. She's likely to lose her job; the Board is furious. You were right. She's dangerous. She shouldn't be around the students."
"Harry," she said sharply, "I know exactly what she is, more than you probably do. As for the students, none of them have ever come to harm under her care, and she actually saved a boy's life end of last year."
"She's a succubus, Hermione. A bloody succubus."
"Half, actually."
"There's no such thing," Harry retorted. "Maybe I was behind you in school but I've caught up, and I know there isn't."
"It doesn't matter, anyway!" Hermione's voice rose in frustration. "She's fine. She's a good professor and a better friend, and I'll be first in line to vouch for her, right after McGonagall."
"You'd better not tell anyone you knew," Harry said. "Cornelius Fudge is already in loads of trouble for not reporting her. He's her uncle, did you know?"
Hermione threw up her hands. "Of course I knew, she's my friend."
"Dark company you keep," Harry scowled.
"Oh shut up. For Heaven's sake, know what you're on about before you presume to tell me what kind of company I should be keeping."
"I'm telling you this because I want you to be safe. I don't want you to be caught up in the media storm this will generate, and I don't want you to be her.. her victim!"
Hermione glared at him. "She's had ample opportunity to do me harm, and has never done so. She's a far better person than you make her out to be, and you know so little about her. The magical world has really got to you, you know? Are you going to be shunning Hagrid next, because of what he is?"
Her words must have stung, because Harry rocked back on his heels. "That's different, Hermione."
"How?" she demanded.
"Hagrid- Hagrid loves us, loves his students and friends.. He's done whatever he could to protect us."
"And one half-human is capable of love and loyalty, and another isn't?" Hermione asked coldly.
"Succubi don't love. They feed."
"She does love, and she doesn't feed."
"And how would you know?"
"Because she loves me. We're together," Hermione blurted, and immediately regretted it.
"Now you've done it," Amon inserted.
"You're- you're-" Harry spluttered, having gone a bit red in the face. "Like.. snogging, and all that?"
Hermione almost laughed, but she was still angry. "If you must know, yes."
"Bloody hell." Harry sat heavily into the chair Asher had vacated earlier. "Merlin, Hermione." His face when it lifted was bewildered, and after a few moments he managed, "What about Ron?"
Hermione snorted. "What about him? We haven't been together for over two years. Shouldn't have been in the first place."
Harry, his face still crimson, stammered, "So- so you're in a relationship?"
Hermione raised her eyes upward and replied, "Has the definition of 'together' changed recently?"
Amon offered into the resulting silence, "He really doesn't catch on quickly, does he?" Hermione had to squash a grin, giving the bird a hard look instead. "Don't worry, I'm not about to reveal myself to a Ministry official. I've no need to be probed and questioned by curious wizards."
"That bird isn't thinking about eating me again, is he?" Harry asked, feeling this a safer topic.
Hermione's lips twitched. "I almost wish he would. It might give you some sense."
"What do you expect me to say? Last I knew, you were dating men, and now I find out you're not only snogging a woman, but one who's-"
"Think before you complete that sentence, Harry James Potter," Hermione interrupted sharply. "I don't expect you to understand why I'm with her, but I do expect you to respect my choices, or at the very least, not lecture me about them."
Harry heaved a great sigh, resting his forehead on his hand for a moment before looking up at her again. "Look, I came to warn you that this is going to blow up, and quickly. She's going to be on the receiving end of a massive amount of bad press, and if they even find out you're friends, much less-" He stopped, then started again, "You know what the Prophet is like about you, me, and Ron. It's not going to end well. One of the board members' wives is in the Being Division, and I guarantee you that he's already found out and is drafting letters to the other members of the board, if he hasn't sent them off already."
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. "Okay, okay. Thanks for that." She pressed her lips together fretfully, then asked, "What could happen? How bad could it be?"
Harry twisted his lips in thought. "She's almost certainly going to lose her job. She could be arrested, if she doesn't do what the Ministry asks of her. If it gets really bad, she could be shunned." He looked at Hermione pityingly. "I'm sorry she's your friend. Things aren't going to be easy from now on." He lifted the Silencing Charm from the door and turned to leave, then hesitated. "I'll be around, alright? I'll keep you updated." With that, he opened the door and left.
