Rating: NC-17/Explicit
Warnings/Content: Grey!Hermione, BAMF!Hermione, Post-War AU, EWE, Enemies to Lovers
Notes: myfirstisthefourth, you are a rockstar. Thank you, articcat621, for the prompt; I hope you enjoy. :) And mods, you've been wonderfully organised bringing this fest together. Thank you! Written for 2018 HP Creature Fest.
Summary: One day, Hermione fell down an unexpected rabbit hole and discovered a never-imagined world of secrets and myths. A decade later, she lives a life of monotony and little challenge, that is, until she's tasked to use her siren abilities to hunt down Top Priority Suspect Rabastan Lestrange.
Hunting for Business or Pleasure
Chapter One
Thick smoke surrounds the trees of the Forbidden Forest like choking hands. With flames illuminating the already bright spring day, it's the Final Battle all over again.
Falling to my knees, I groan. My body feels as if it's just slammed into a wall of cement. "Harry, I can't Apparate!"
Harry echoes my sound of pain. "Same for me."
"How did they manage an Areal Anti-Disapparation Curse from such a distance?"
BOOM!
Another wall of flames erupts behind us. Dammit! They're trying to smoke us out, and it's working.
Harry looks around frantically. "Hermione, how doesn't matter right now." He takes my hands, helping me to my feet. "Come on. We need to get out of here."
Feeling the intensifying heat behind us, we run.
We're closer to Hogsmeade than Hogwarts, so that's the direction we head in. As we manoeuvre through the forest, I don't risk looking over my shoulder for the five masked Death Eaters pursuing us. I know if I trip and hurt myself that Harry will put himself in danger to aid me. Merlin knows what they would do if they got their hands on him.
I nearly twist my ankle on a slippery stone, and Harry's newly earned Auror robes momentarily get stuck on a low-hanging branch, but we manage to reach the wizarding village without getting caught.
"Let's try again," I suggest, panting.
Harry nods.
This time after failing to Apparate, I find myself on my bum. Ugh! Fuck me, but do I feel dreadful…and foolish. It's like we're a pair of silly birds that can't learn and keep crashing into a windowpane. I turn and see Harry has also landed less than gracefully on the ground.
Harry stands and then violently dusts off his robes. "Fucking Merlin! We should be out of range by now."
While Harry surveys our rear for our pursuers, I crawl back to my feet. I raise my wand and concentrate. "Expecto Patronum!"
My otter Patronus swirls joyfully around us before it comes to a stop in front of me.
"Outnumbered. Need help. Hogsmeade." I picture Kingsley's face. The otter nods and then speeds away to relay my message.
Wiping the sweat from my face with my sleeve, I glare at the sky. "This is not what I had in mind when I said I wanted a diversion from my studies." I turn my glare on Harry. "I blame Ron and you, Harry, for putting the blasted idea in my head in the first place. I enjoyed being in my 'stuffy library' perfectly fine; I didn't need 'some fresh air.' And then, at the last minute after all that nagging, Ron decided to stay inside and play wizard chess." I huff out a breath.
Harry cracks a smile.
I pinch my lips. Of course Harry's smiling during a situation like this. "Come on, if Apparition's out of the question, we need to find a connection to the Floo Network."
He rubs the back of his neck. "I reckon the closest one is in the Three Broomsticks."
Not wasting another second, I yank on his sleeve. "Then let's go. The sooner we're gone, the sooner everyone here will be safe. After all, it's us they want."
We jog further into Hogsmeade.
Even with large plumes of smoke from the Forbidden Forest fouling the air, we find four wizards loitering outside of the Hog's Head.
Harry slashes his wand in the air to get their attention. "Hey! You there! You all need to leave and seek safety."
With his now torn and dirty robes, Harry looks a right mess, and I'm there next to him in the bedraggled department with my hair resembling an electrified poodle.
Still, the wizards soon realise who we are and scuttle off without incident. Being vanquishers of the worst Dark wizard in recent memory does have its perks.
Harry turns back to me. "We—" His eyes widen. He wraps his arms around me protectively and dives to the side.
A hunter-green line of smoke zooms past, missing us by mere inches. As the curse smashes into the shopfront of Dervish and Banges, I land hard with Harry's added weight on top of me.
Pushing Harry off me, I try to catch my breath. I groan. The back of my head throbs horribly, and I'm fairly certain I have, at least, a mild concussion.
As more curses fly in our direction, Harry and I scurry for cover into the partially destroyed shop. We crawl over busted wizarding equipment, such as Sneakoscopes and Remembralls, and hide behind a counter.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Merlin, we're trapped. We're so fucked unless help can get here in time.
"Any ideas?" Harry whispers to me.
No! Instead, I say, "Thinking. I'm thinking." Alright, what we need is a distraction… What would be the best distraction…
My eyes fly open when I hear the crunch of debris under heavy boots nearby. I clutch my wand tighter.
"Come out, come out, playtime's over," a smooth male voice taunts.
Another wizard laughs. "I don't know… I'm thinking things are only just beginning."
As they carry on at my and Harry's expense, I hate that I find myself listening to the first wizard's voice. The tone and cadence of it are undeniably sexy. It isn't as deep as Professor Snape's was, but it's still one that would make Rita Skeeter's articles sound appealing—and that's saying something.
Harry pats my shoulder for my attention and then points.
It takes me a second to find what he wants me to see. When I do, I shake my head vehemently. "No," I mouth.
Harry widens his eyes with exasperation. "Would you rather die here?" he mouths back.
As I think about it, he rolls his eyes. I watch him crawl away towards the pile of flying brooms lying on the floor, then sigh and follow.
Making my way on my hands and knees, I continue to contemplate what type of distraction would be best. A typical offensive spell like when we were first ambushed wouldn't cut it.
While Harry quickly checks to see if any of the brooms are operational, I notice the reflection of a red blob hurtling towards us in the display case above. Hastily, I cast a Shield Charm, protecting us from the raining shards of glass. Unfortunately, I also give our exact location away.
Harry shoves a broom at me. I grimace as I accept it, then mount it clumsily.
Need a distraction. Come on. Think! What's the one thing they wouldn't expect? I gasp when inspiration finally strikes.
"Ready," Harry whispers.
I nod.
With sharp, precise movements, I construct a curse of my own. This isn't going to be pretty—or pleasant. I inhale a deep breath. "Ben Síde Comploratus."
"Now!" I shout.
The instant we kick off, a piercing wail fills the air. The Death Eaters get the brunt of the spell and fall to their knees. As they scream in pain and their faces contort with indescribable horror, blood seeps from their ears, noses, and eyes.
I feel a trickle of blood running down my upper lip and worriedly glace at Harry. He also has a bloody nose but, other than that, looks fine. I exhale in relief. However, my moment of calm is short lived when I notice the blurring ground beneath me.
I whimper and wrap my hands around the broomstick more firmly.
Every second that I climb higher and higher into the air, more and more terror crawls down my throat to weigh down my heart. Trying to keep my mind occupied, I focus on Harry who is three-broomsticks ahead.
"Breathe in. Breathe out. Don't look down. Don't look down," I mentally repeat to myself—but it does little good.
I hate flying. I hate it. The only thing truly innate about a person being in the sky is them succumbing to the force of gravity, plummeting to their untimely death.
Harry glances over his shoulder. When he sees me struggling, he slows down.
Over the strong wind, he yells, "Are you okay?"
I bob my head. But in fact, I'm not okay. I want to cry because I can sense how close to losing it I am.
Harry opens his mouth to say something more but instead closes it and frowns. He looks intently behind me.
I turn my head to see what he's staring at and spot five dark figures tearing towards us on brooms of their own.
"Go, go, go!" Harry shouts.
Swallowing hard, I pick up as much speed as I dare. The forest far below becomes a solid green smudge, and my hair stings my skin as it whips around my head. I groan with despair. Hogwarts still looks so far away.
A Killing Curse flies past my left side.
"Harry, look out!"
Harry effortlessly completes a loop to avoid the Unforgivable and, during the manoeuvre while upside down, manages to fire off a shot in return. I can't help but admire Harry's skill as a flyer and wish I shared it.
Needing to know how far the Death Eaters are behind us, I look over my shoulder. They're only about fifty feet away and closing in. With their billowing black robes, the Dark wizards could be mistaken for Dementors if not for the sunlight reflecting off their masks.
More curses zoom past.
I hate that Harry's having to defend the both of us, but my hands are glued to my broomstick. I do try to fly randomly from side to side so that I'm not a sitting duck.
When I make out the bright flags located around the Quidditch field, hope surges inside me. We're so close. Come on! Only a few more feet until we're safely behind Hog—.
"HERMIONE! WATCH OUT!"
Something impacts my back.
The next thing I know, I'm falling and falling and falling.
"HAARRRY!"
As the ground rushes towards me, full panic hits. All I can feel is terror. I can't breathe. I can't think.
"Nooo! Hermione!" I hear Harry yell faintly.
As I see more flashes of spells that narrowly miss me, sorrow and disgruntlement fill me. Dammit. This is how I'm going to die.
Feeling cold tears run into my hairline, I brace myself. A second later, I scream as agony rips into my back. Rotten luck. I can't just simply die. Fate has to throw a nasty Dark spell on top of it. I guess it's my own fault. Ron always did complain I was too much of an overachiever.
My vision wavers; things become muddled. For a brief time, I have a sense of absolute freedom. Something jerks me from behind, and then, thankfully, everything goes black.
"Miss Granger…"
I must be dreaming. I exhale a long, content breath. Everything's so nice and toasty, although the bed I'm on could be a tad more comfortable.
"Miss Granger."
I definitely am dreaming because Professor Snape is speaking to me, and I know for a fact that he's dead.
"Open your eyes, Miss Granger."
I do as Sounds-Like-Professor-Snape says. Once my vision adjusts, I let out a headache-inducing shriek.
Standing over me is…is… I'm not quite sure who he is, but he could easily pass for Professor Snape's brother: Professor Snape's mouth-watering, deliciously sexy brother.
I gape unattractively until I realise what I'm doing. "Uhhh, wh-who are you?"
He grins wickedly, revealing two worryingly sharp canines. "I'm Severus, a prince of the Sidhe," he sardonically says in a very Snape-like manner.
I stare at him dumbfounded. The Sidhe? As in the race also known as the High Elves? Prince is the maiden name of Severus Snape's mother, but this elf can't be him. Can he?
"Severus," I say weakly. "Not a very common name."
"No, it is not." He doesn't elaborate further.
"Ummm, do you have a surname?"
"Yes."
I huff. "What is it?"
"I think you already know, Miss Granger."
My mouth drops open. Impossible! Professor Snape's alive and an elven prince? "B-But how?"
He ignores me and asks, "What year is it?"
"Nineteen ninety-nine." I sweep my gaze across the room but can't discern where I am. It lacks the stone walls found in Hogwarts, and unless St Mungo's redecorated recently, I'm not there either.
"Professor"—he doesn't bat an eye at the title, further confirming his identity—"please, at least tell me where I am," I stress every word, needing to know.
Professor Snape tilts his head to the side in thought. After a second of silence, he says, "You're at St Francis' Hospital." He fluidly lifts up a hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Three. St Francis' Hospital? I don't recall a wizarding hospital by that name. Are we in the Muggle world?"
"No, we are in the High Realm."
I grit my teeth and fake a pleasant smile. "And where is the High Realm, sir?"
"The High Realm is not any one place, and only those who belong may enter."
Okaaay. Wait a minute. "But that would mean I belong. I find that hard to believe since I've never even heard of this 'High Realm' before. Why would I belong, and why do you look the way you do"—I gesticulate at his smouldering black eyes and elegantly pointed ears—"and why does this bloody bed feel so bleeding odd!"
Preferring not having to look at Professor Snape's smirking face for another second, I turn to see what's going on with my mattress.
My brows knit together. What in Merlin… No wonder my bed feels so strange; I'm lying on a giant pile of brown feathers. I flip my head to the other side, finding the same thing. Reaching out, I touch them, and they shiver in response. Did I just feel that? I do it again. Holy shit! I did!
I jump from the bed and gasp when a pair of wings protruding from my back extend and flutter. The left wing knocks the bedside table, causing a potion bottle filled with a purple liquid to shatter on the floor.
"Why do I have wings!" I touch my face, feeling relief when I don't encounter anything out of the ordinary. Then I catch sight of my hands and yelp when I see black talons emerging from my fingers. "What the fuck!" I yell, actually saying an expletive aloud instead of just in my head.
"Miss Granger, I need you to calm down."
A stunning woman with blood-red lips and a man with ram horns enter the room. Both are wearing Healer garb.
The woman lifts her hands in a placating gesture. "My lady, please return to the bed. You are still adjusting to your transmutation."
Transmutation? Transmutation! My eyes wildly search for my wand, but it's nowhere in sight. "What's happened to me! Did you do something to Harry, too? Where is he!"
"You needn't worry about Potter. He's fine. To answer your other question, you have…miraculously become a siren."
"A siren…" My mind automatically flips through my knowledge. In Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, sirens are stated as being the earliest race of merpeople. They are known for their beauty and natural talent of Sway, which allows them to control or influence others. Their affinities are air and water, and they manifest in a variety of ways. One such way is the appearance of their wings that take after those of an osprey, also known as a sea hawk, river hawk, and fish hawk.
I peer at my brown and grey-speckled wings. Remembering my time as a partial cat, I cringe. "Is it reversible? How is this even possible? Tell me."
Professor Snape snorts and grins. "You were always quick on the uptake. That's twice now you've used your gift. Well, tried at least." He smiles smugly.
I stare at him incredulously, not sure what the bloody hell he was talking about.
He gestures for the Healers to back off, and they immediately obey.
"There's no going back," Professor Snape says with finality. "This isn't some accident; this is who you are now. The best analogy I can think of is that your near-death experience pushed you off the nest and, due to your magic and blood, allowed you to find your literal wings."
"My blood? But, Professor, how can that be? I'm a Muggle-born witch."
"No. Not anymore." He touches my cheek.
I groan at the intoxicating feel of his magic. Lost in its potency, I let him pull me closer.
"Now, Miss Granger, you're so much more. You're one of the High Realm, one of us… Welcome home."