This is something else I've been working on at roughly the same time as the Elements. Not to worry, The Elements has not been pushed to the back burner, I'm just having issue's with writer's block - of course, mine is more like a city wall I can't find my way around, but whatever. I'm still working on it, just trust me.

Disclaimer: The only characters and/or concepts in this chapter that are mine are the rainforest tribe members. Everything else is the property of either JK Rowling or Stephenie Meyer.

Update, March 5: Some people have expressed hopes that this is not SSHG. I'm sorry to disappoint, but it is. I have too much of the rest of the story written to change it now. That being said, I also like the idea of Hermione with one of the wolves, especially Sam, so most likely my next HP/Twilight story will involve something like that. I hope this hasn't cost me any readers, and for those of you who stick it out and keep reading, thanks a ton.

RP13


Regarding Overgrown Dogs, Vegetarian Vampires, and Unexpected Babies

Chapter One

~Finding Her~

Severus had been searching for the insufferable little know-it-all for weeks, so when he finally found her in a rainforest village in northern Argentina, he was absolutely furious. His mood only blackened further when he took in the state in which he'd found her. She was dressed similarly to other women, in a peach colored cotton top and a brown cotton skirt that reached her knees, her dirty feet bare and her curls pulled back into a messy pony tail, and was sitting in the midst of a group of chattering native women and girls who all appeared to be making something out of what appeared to be vast numbers of vines. She appeared to be clumsily attempting to mimic whatever it was they were making, but her progress was greatly hindered as she kept dropping the object in order to gesticulate, clearly telling a story.

He was so angry that he promptly disregarded all thought of how it would look to the tribeswomen for him to swoop in dressed in his customary black robes – which were absolutely sweltering in this confounded heat and humidity, though she with her tanned skin and sun-kissed hair looked to be quite at home. He strode from the trees, though not before ensuring he still had his protective shields up. He hadn't forgotten where he was, after all, and while he was fairly well aware of his surroundings, there was always a chance that there might be a hidden native somewhere in the vegetation about him who had eluded his sharp senses.

Hermione froze, her animated tale halting mid-word, as she spotted the dark figure swooping down upon the small group of women and girls from the trees. The basket she was attempting to make fell from suddenly nerveless fingers as she gasped in horror. Without another thought, without even halting long enough to try to identify whichever Death Eater it was, she leapt to her feet, assuming her jaguar form in the same smooth motion, and was gone, bounding away into the trees only split seconds before the other women and girls also comprehended the danger.

The other women, their own senses finely tuned – theirs adapted from countless generations living in the forest rather than from necessity brought on by being a primary target in a massive war – glanced up and didn't stop to assess the danger once they, too, spotted the dark, billowing figure who so resembled a demon. Fractions of a second after the golden woman who had been living with them for the past several months had shifted and disappeared, they too assumed one animal form or another and vanished.

Severus had been stunned to see Hermione shift and disappear so quickly, and was even more so when the other women all did the same, but he'd retained enough presence of mind – and the necessary quick reflexes – to set a Tracking Charm on her even as she shifted. In retrospect, however, he realized he probably shouldn't have approached in the manner that he had. He realized the native women were reacting as they naturally would to any sign of danger, and that time had not diminished the effects the war had had on Hermione. All that time on the run with Potter and Weasley would have made her senses extremely keen and her reflexes extremely quick. And her time on the run coupled with her other experiences, such as her torture at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange and all the fighting she'd done in the Final Battle, had probably also made her paranoid.

With these thoughts, he removed his robes, stripping down to his black trousers and white shirt, rolled up his sleeves, stowed his wand away in his pocket, and held his hands up. The Tracking Charm he'd placed on her told him she hadn't gone far but was circling the clearing, hidden in the trees, waiting and watching to see who he was and what he would do.

"I know you're there, Miss Granger," he called. His voice was calm and measured, neither too hasty nor too casual. He wanted to show her he had nothing to hide and meant no harm. "It is only I, Severus Snape. During the Final Battle you, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley found me after Nagini attacked me and I gave Potter a vial filled with memories that he might view in Dumbledore's Pensieve. When Potter and Weasley left, you stayed behind to help me, and in a fit of pain-induced delirium I mumbled some nonsense along the lines of you smelling like roses. In the meantime you were able to slow both the snake venom and the blood flow enough to keep me alive until I could be transported to St. Mungo's, thereby saving my life. As much as it pains me to admit, I am in your debt. Now please come out so that I may speak to you face to face. It is a matter regarding your uncle, I believe, in a town called Forks in the United States." Under his breath he mumbled, "Though why anyone would want to name a town after some bloody silverware is beyond me."

There was a long pause in which he waited, his expressionless face completely concealing his anxiety and his irritation. Finally, the jaguar emerged warily from the trees and approached him. But it stopped just out of the line of trees and crouched, tail twitching and eyes fixed on him, as if waiting for him to make one wrong move.

When Severus saw Hermione's continued wariness, he slowly took out his wand, his free hand held up, palm facing outward to show her he was otherwise unarmed, and told her, "I hereby swear upon my wand that I am Severus Snape and intend neither you nor your companions any harm." As he swore the oath, a silver glow engulfed his wand before spreading to engulf his hand, then his arm, and eventually the entire left side of his upper torso before fading in the same order.

That was good enough for Hermione. She'd read enough about wand oaths that she knew what the magic looked like when done properly. She straightened and loped over to him, and when she reached him, she returned to her human form, still dressed as a native. Severus had to deliberately keep himself from shifting in sudden discomfort when he realized how much more revealing her present outfit was than traditional witches' robes, her school uniform, or even the Muggle clothes he knew she favored when she wasn't in classes.

It was immediately clear to him how she'd matured. Once, as a student, her body had been slightly soft, a little rounded in some places. She'd never been by any means overweight, but she didn't have the natural athletic build of Harry, Ron, or Ginny. Then the hard year on the run had cost her enough weight that she'd looked rather malnourished the last time he'd seen her, the night of the Final Battle, when she'd saved his life. But apparently she'd been residing here in this village among these peoples long enough for her to have gained both weight and muscle. She'd filled back out – rather magnificently in some areas, the man he was couldn't help noticing – but she'd also toned up. Now her belly had flattened and firmed up a bit, and her once slightly soft thighs and biceps had become sleek and strong. He could only imagine what her posterior looked like, and had to actually force his eyes away from her breasts.

Where the hell had the insufferable little know-it-all who'd been the bane of his existence at Hogwarts gone? Who was this siren who held herself with such self-assurance under the scrutiny of the once-dreaded Potions Master, who arched an imperious eyebrow at him, one corner of her lush mouth quirked up in a smirk as she noticed where his eyes had lingered?

Realizing he'd been caught in his appraisal of her form, he cleared his throat, blushing faintly. But before she could say anything, he spoke.

"Miss. Granger. I have been searching for you for weeks. Do you mean to tell me that you have been hiding out here all these months in a village of heathens in the midst of the bloody rainforest while the whole of the British Wizarding World – and half the Muggle one as well – has been looking for you?" he demanded, using abruptness to save face.

As he observed her reaction, he realized the effects of the war were perhaps more visible in Miss Granger than in anyone else. Once that tone of voice would have, if not brought tears to her eyes, then at least cowed her sufficiently so that she responded quietly, her head bowed and eyes averted in shame. Now, however, neither her gaze nor her tone faltered as she answered him, her eyes meeting his.

"I felt lost, Professor," she replied. Her tone was neither defensive nor hostile, nor was it suffused with pain. It was matter-of-fact. "I needed time to recover from the torture Bellatrix Lestrange put me through, and I had to do it alone. And the people here in this village have helped me do that more completely, I think, than any of the professional healers from St. Mungo's could."

Severus frowned at her. "Miss Granger, surely you know there are many people who love you, who understand what happened to you. What in Merlin's name made you think you had to recover alone?"

Her brow furrowed slightly. "I didn't feel I could turn to anyone else," she answered slowly. "My parents have no memory of me, and the magic is irreversible. Anyone else who might have understood was already dead, like Sirius, or vanished, like Harry and Ginny did when they eloped, or had enough of their own healing to do, like the Weasleys who lost Percy."

He scowled. He wanted to tell her she could have come and spoken to him, but he didn't think she would have, even after learning where his true loyalties lay. For one thing, he'd never given the impression of being the least bit inclined to have a heart-to-heart with anyone, and had done his utmost to convince people he hated all students who weren't Slytherins, and Potter and his two friends above all others. For another thing, she probably would have figured he had enough of his own healing to do after Nagini's bite without worrying about her as well.

As if she'd read his mind, she continued. "I didn't think I should turn to you, either," she said softly, "because you had enough of your own healing to do without worrying about mine. You had done more than enough for Harry, Ron, and me without me adding to your concerns."

"But why did you not tell anyone? Your friends, including Potter and Miss Weasley, who returned two weeks after they left, have been worrying frantically over your disappearance. There are teams of Aurors that have been investigating your disappearance, and half the Order of the Phoenix is searching for you as well. There has been talk of giving up the search and presuming you dead."

"I didn't tell anyone because they would have come after me, as evidenced by your presence here and now. Being found and carted back to the Wizarding World, which would have been inevitable, would not have enabled me to heal and recover properly. Molly caught me as I was packing my things, so I explained everything to her and made her take a wand oath not to reveal anything of my whereabouts, even under the influence of Veritaserum or Legilimency. Not that she would have been able to reveal anything, since I never told her where I intended to go.

"Remus Lupin is the only person who knows where I am, and only because a month after I left he stumbled upon some notes of mine regarding Animagi and a tribe of Native South Americans who knew how to access the form of any animal in existence. He had an inkling I might have gone there, but no more than a hunch. So without telling anyone, he came and found me and confronted me. I told him the same thing I told you, and he made me promise not to go anywhere else. In turn I made him swear on his wand not to tell anyone. He's been coming once a month to check on me, but he understands that I need time and space. Everyone else in the Wizarding World expected me to continue helping locate all the Death Eaters who got away and went into hiding, especially since Harry disappeared. As if I haven't done enough already by helping Harry defeat Voldemort." Her voice was quiet by the time she finished speaking, sounding tired and immensely careworn, as if she could no longer summon the energy required to feel as angry at this injustice as she once had.

Severus studied her as she fell silent, pondering what she'd said. She had a fair point, he admitted to himself. She had given everything she had to help fight the war. She had sacrificed her health, as evidenced by the emaciated appearance of her body the last time he'd seen her. She'd forgone the completion of her education, having gone on the run instead of returning to Hogwarts for her seventh and final year and her NEWTs. She had given up romance as well, as he knew from having overheard a conversation between Potter and the youngest two Weasleys after Potter's return from eloping with Miss Weasley. Apparently the Weasley boy and Miss Granger had shared a heated kiss at the Final Battle but she had told the boy that they wouldn't work; it seemed the gist of her words had been that she felt the war had damaged her and she didn't want to drag him down with her. And to top it all off, she'd also sacrificed her family, as her parents were now living in Australia, happily ignorant of magic, the Wizarding World, Harry Potter, and their own daughter.

Finally he recalled the other reason he'd been searching for her. "Very well, Miss Granger, I can understand your reasoning. And if it were just a matter of me having searched for you simply to cart you back to the British Wizarding World, I would leave you be. But the fact of the matter is that there remains a problem regarding your uncle in the United States."

"Uncle Charlie?" she asked, surprised. To her shame, due to the escalation of the war over the last couple of years, it had been a while since she'd thought about her relatives in the United States. How long had it been since she'd seen them?

"Indeed," he replied. "It seems your uncle Charlie has been attempting to contact your parents about his daughter, your cousin, what was her name? Elizabeth? Isabel?"

"Isabella," she supplied absently.

"That was it. It seems she is gravely ill. I was at your Muggle home in England a week ago, searching to see if I could find any information regarding your possible whereabouts, and the phone rang. When I didn't answer it, the…responding device, or whatever it's called…did, and your uncle's message played. He said he wasn't certain the invitations for his daughter's wedding ever reached your family, as he never received a response, but it seems now she is deathly ill and her husband's family is keeping any visitors, including him, away from her. I relayed the message to Minerva, and she asked me to continue searching for you, thinking you would wish to know. There is a possibility that you may be able to help her, though she is a Muggle and apparently unaware of the Wizarding World or the fact that you are a witch."

Eyes wide, she nodded emphatically. "Of course I would like to try and help her!" she exclaimed. Then, she seemed to deflate as her eyes filled with sadness and shame. "She and Uncle Charlie are all the family I have left, and over the last couple of years I never even thought about them! I have to see them again, I can't lose any one else!"

Then she turned pleading eyes to him. "Please, will you come with me? You might be able to help, too, especially if I can't. Please, I don't want to do this alone."

He inclined his head. "Very well. I will accompany you. It would be best to leave as soon as possible, then. If, after we resolve the matter with your uncle and cousin, you wish to come back here, I will not stop you, but only if you agree to allow me to inform everyone else of your whereabouts."

She shook her head. "That won't be necessary. I'll come back to England with you after we help Bella and Uncle Charlie. I think I've been gone long enough, and I've finally managed to make my peace with everything that's happened. As for leaving as soon as possible, I just want to say goodbye properly to the tribe. The elders will also want reassurances that you're not a threat, and I know they'll want to give us their blessing."

Seeing him raise an eyebrow and open his mouth to speak, she cut him off and said, "It's not the same thing as giving us permission to leave. Since I am not a member of this tribe in the same way as those who were born into it but rather an honorary member, having earned a place here through helping them as they've helped me, I don't need their permission to leave. But giving us their blessing is a way of wishing us good fortune on our journey and reminding me that should I ever wish to come back, I will always be welcome."

That night Severus sat beside Hermione before the bonfire in the center of the village. Members of the tribe sat on either side of them, forming a large circle around the bonfire. On Hermione's other side sat a group of old men, the tribal elders. One of the elders addressed the tribe as a whole, and Hermione quietly translated for him.

The tribal elder wrapped up his speech, and Severus started internally pondering the turn of events that had brought him here, sitting beside the Gryffindor Princess before a bonfire in the middle of a rainforest amidst a tribe of natives, when suddenly he realized drums had begun to sound, followed shortly by the sounds of other instruments. And in response to the cacophony of rattling, shaking, and pounding, as well as the breathy whistling of reed pipes, all the women got to their feet and stood in a tight ring around the bonfire. He blinked, momentarily thrown off as he realized that Hermione had got to her feet as well to join them.

He watched, his attention captured, as the women began to move as one in a dance that seemed older than time. It was a dance that, coupled with the rhythm of the drums and pipes, found its way straight to his blood. Entranced, he hardly even noticed that his eyes remained glued to the spinning, whirling, dipping, and stomping figure of a particular curly-haired witch, looking so out of place amongst so many with straight black hair yet dancing as if she'd grown up among them.

Finally, the circle, which had gradually been spinning faster and faster around the bonfire, came to an abrupt halt, with Hermione throwing herself to her hands and knees, kneeling before the still-seated tribal elders with her chin ducked just a little in deference to them but her eyes meeting theirs, seeming to thank, admire, and beseech all at once.

The tribal elder she knelt directly in front of, who looked to be the oldest and most official-looking and who seemed to be wearing the most elaborate form of the tribe's traditional clothing, gazed deeply into her unblinking eyes for what seemed like both an eternity and only a heartbeat. But then he smiled.

The tribal elder smiled at her, and touched his hand to her forehead as he spoke. Severus was intrigued by Hermione's reaction to the elder's words. She blinked and her eyebrows furrowed, confused and slightly distressed as she spoke in response. Her expression was clearly an inquiring one, and was just as clearly pleading with him to help her understand. But the elder just smiled toothlessly at her and patted her cheek as he replied, likely telling her something along the lines of understanding when the time came.

Severus knew exactly when Hermione realized she wouldn't be getting any clearer understanding from the elder; a forced smile came to her face, confusion and pain still in her eyes but respect and trust shining through just the same. She bowed her head, trying not to let him see her doubt, and then stood to rejoin Severus.

That seemed to be the end of the ceremonial part of the bonfire, as some of the women returned to their seats while others, mostly consisting of younger women and older girls, remained to be joined by men and boys of related ages. This time the dancing about the bonfire seemed to be purely for fun, and while it seemed to still be fairly synchronized, it was far less formal-looking.

"I don't suppose you'd want to join me for a dance, Professor?" Hermione asked as she came back to him.

"Severus," he corrected, surprising her. "And you suppose correctly, Miss Granger. I will be content to watch."

She nodded, not really having expected anything else. "All right then. I'll be back in a bit. And if I'm to call you Severus, then please call me Hermione," she replied as she turned back to rejoin her friends about the fire.

Severus watched as the small group of young women that she joined pulled her into the dance, all of them laughing. As he once more found himself caught in the spell woven by the movements of the young witch's nubile body – not even realizing how his own body responded – he found himself marveling at how much a part of the land she seemed. She seemed just as much a part of it as her black-haired, olive-skinned friends even with her much fairer golden skin and masses of wild chestnut curls that caught the firelight and turned into a flaming halo. In that moment, it seemed she represented a riot of light and life and warmth and growing things – everything in contrast to his darkness and stillness and calm and coldness. He hated himself for wanting her to turn that radiance and goodness on him, and then reminded himself that the war was over and he had been absolved and forgiven. There was no need to hate himself any longer.

Still, watching Miss Granger…Hermione…now, he found himself thinking that being near her could only do him good. So he found that he didn't care to examine the inexplicable relief he felt at having found her too closely.


So, what do we think so far?

Note: the rainforest tribe is completely mine. While I know that there are in fact native rainforest tribes that originated in Northern Argentina, this one is not based on any of them. This one is just a tribe that I made up that happens to live in the rainforests in Northern Argentina. If you've noticed there is no dialogue written for the natives, that's for two reasons: one, making up a language is far too much trouble for characters that only appear in this one chapter, and two, if I used words from real languages of real native Argentine tribes, people would think I am in fact basing this tribe on one of them, when I'm not.

RP13