Bookworm and the Beast

by corvusdraconis

Summary: [HG/SS] AU/NC Once upon a time, Bellatrix Lestrange created a monstrous beast to do her bidding. However, it doesn't work out quite the way she planned. The beast escapes the hands of one master only to be enslaved by another— one that no one believed would ever do such a thing. (COMPLETE)

Summary: [HG/SS] AU/NC Once upon a time, Bellatrix Lestrange created a monstrous beast to do her bidding. However, it doesn't work out quite the way she planned. The beast escapes the hands of one master only to be enslaved by another— one that no one believed would ever do such a thing. The war is now over, and all the masters and puppeteers are dead and gone, but some wounds will remain unhealed as long as certain memories remain hidden. Can either Hermione or Severus find happiness in the wake of a devastating war?

Warnings: Bad Weasels. Bad Dumbles. Bad Bellatrix (duh). Torture. Manipulation. Dark intent. Manipulative old coot.

A/N: Homework. Lack of inspiration. Blah Also, Dutchgirl01 really wanted a new S/H story, so here goes.

I've been working on a non-HP/fan-fic challenge every month along with all the homework/exams/etc. It's taking a lot out of me, and inspiration has been very lacking in the areas I need it in. As with all of my more upbeat stories, inspiration requires the proper mood, and let me tell you about trying to keep a good mood while staring at countless assignments and projects. Yeah— about that.

Many thanks for those of you who have shown such gracious understanding that homework and RL MUST come first, and please send homemade biscuits to Dutchgirl01 and churros to Dragon and the Rose for being stalwart rocks to cling to through my turbulent life.

Dragon's Note: Please send fresh elephant ears to Raven to feed her struggling muse, hey?

Beta Love: The Dragon and the Rose, Dutchgirl01, Flyby Commander Shepard

---

Bookworm and the Beast

Rare as is true love, true friendship is rarer.

Jean de La Fontaine

"Blah."

Hermione set down the ladle she was stirring with. "Really? That's all you can say?"

"Dunderheads. Imbeciles."

Hermione arched a brow. "Nothing new there."

Snape made a scowling face, his brows furrowing as he glared into the cauldron he was stirring. The shimmering green potion switched from bright green to a sickly yellow and back.

"I don't think this antidote is going to work," Severus said, his lip curling with disdain. "He shall be doomed to be a were-Tentacula for the rest of his life."

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "I know you don't have a good rapport with Neville, Severus, but for once it wasn't his fault."

Snape wrinkled his nose. "Put them all together in a room alone with no supervision and someone is going to die before the sun sets."

Hermione winced. "Surely they aren't that bad."

He gave her a scathing look.

Hermione waved her hands frantically.

"I suppose I can take comfort in the fact that Mr Longbottom's transformation landed the Weasel in the infirmary getting a great many antivenin shots and potions. Serves him right for using Neville as an excuse to keep visiting Hogwarts after he should have been long gone from these halls. Mr Longbottom has enough work to do herding incompetent children that he should not have time to properly babysit an incompetent adult."

"Way to look on the bright side, Severus," Hermione muttered, pouring the potion she was working on into separate flasks.

"If Longbottom is indeed a true were-Tentacula," Severus said, "now Mr Weasley will be sprouting tentacles and have an even worse temper three nights of the month."

Hermione twitched. "He was bad enough without that," she agreed.

"Let's just hope they don't mate when transformed," Snape said. "Pomona will be beside herself with a bunch of baby Tentacula seedlings taking over her greenhouse."

"Would that— could that— uh— oh, bother," Hermione said, shuddering. "I knew there was a reason I didn't like Herbology nearly as much as Arithmancy. I didn't hate Herbology, but I didn't like getting beaten up by mandrakes when they tried to knock your earmuffs off." Hermione flushed. "I ended up stunning mine so I could repot it without all the flailing and screaming."

Snape blinked. "You used a stunner on a plant?"

Hermione looked shifty. "Yes?"

The potions master's shoulders quaked with suppressed laughter. "I'm willing to bet no one else thought of that either. Hell, I wish that I had back in the day."

"Professor Sprout never has to use stunners on her plants," Hermione said dejectedly.

"Professor Sprout is a plant, I think," Severus mused. "That's her superpower. I swear she only looks human for our benefit."

Hermione's jaw worked up and down, but no sound came out.

"Paying too much attention to the stories of the dungeon bat instead of Professor Sprout?" Severus arched a brow.

"Erm—" Hermione trailed off. "To be fair, you have a sexier voice."

Severus almost dropped the spoon into the cauldron and tipped over some ingredients. He cursed under his breath, trying to get things back under control.

"I, uh— IhavetogodeliverthistoMinervanow," she said at once, scooping up her potions, Scourgify-ing the cauldron clean, and rushing out the potions laboratory with a flushed face and her mane of curly hair standing on end.

Snape's expression was utterly deadpan, but his dark eyes stared a hole where the exit of the younger professor had made her exit with all due haste.

---

"What the fuck are you doing, Bellatrix?!"

"Awww, don't get all bent out of shape, little baby brother-in-law," Bellatrix cooed over Severus' screams. "I'm just giving little bitty Sev'rus here all the power he always wanted to scare everyone. The Dark Lord will be so pleased."

"We do not harm our own!" Lucius yelled.

"Oh, but he's not really," Bella cooed. "He's just a dirty little half-blood wannabe. His heart belongs to that Mudblood bitch who will never love him. She won't even forgive him!"

"Tell you what, Sev'russsssss," Bella cooed. "I'll even give you an out. I'll say—" She waved her wand over him. "Love's mutual touch shall bring peace to the beast, and only then shall your pain decrease. Should three nights pass in your embrace, then, and only then shall my curse erase."

A bright green beam hit Severus in the chest, and his body arched, twisted, and cracked as every bone in his body shifted, distorted, and grew.

"I bind you to my service, now and for—"

Suddenly, Lucius yelled, "Expelliarmus!" and Bella's wand went flying before her spell could be completed. Severus stood in the binding circle, his body twisted hideously and transformed into that of an enormous, slavering beast. Pitch black wings unfurled from his back as a sickly green venom dripped from his fangs and multiple lines of shark-like teeth.

Lucius took his foot and broke the salt circle surrounding his friend, his eyes imploring Severus to flee.

Severus' black eyes glowed with an eerie greenish light. He flung himself up and crashed through the roof of the shack he had been forced to remain prisoner in. Rubble and debris fell from the gaping hole as a long, baleful howl of anguish echoed across the moors.

---

Severus bolted out of his bed in a cold sweat, shivering. Even now, when Minerva had moved his quarters out of the dungeon and into a set of chambers facing an inner courtyard, he felt as though he were back in the cold and damp again. Ever since the elder witch had taken up the reins of headmistress of Hogwarts, life had been much improved for everyone, and she had even advocated that Slytherin be moved into a tower like all the other houses and the old dorms and common room be converted into a fascinating subterranean observatory of Black Lake. She'd even moved Argus and Mrs Norris out of the oddball closet the pair had been living in and into a comfortable little cottage out on the green to give the old squib some well-deserved privacy when he wasn't performing his official Hogwarts duties from within his former-residence-now-office.

Her rationale to the Board of Governors had been if Rubeus Hagrid could have an outdoor hut, surely the other professors could have quarters that fit them as well. Aurora had a beautiful set-up in the Astronomy tower, and that had significantly cut down on the number of students trying to sneak up there to snog or— well, what most teenagers were wont to do. Poppy Pomfrey and her medi-witch team had their private quarters linked together with a common room to cut down on the frantic running around when emergencies happened. Rolanda had a bird's eye "crow's nest" overlooking the Quidditch pitch and recreational green. Flitwick had a charming abode overlooking Black Lake that was connected to the Charms classrooms. The list went on, but Severus was, even if he didn't say it specifically, highly impressed with the work Minerva had put into making life better for Hogwarts students as well as the teachers and staff. One of the main changes she had put in place was to create an all-house common room where students could mingle, study, and be together instead of being confined to their respective common rooms. She was tired of the bigotry, she had said.

"They start out as children, Severus," Minerva had said. "All of them start out precisely the same. They all possess the gift of magic and they are all frightened eleven-year-olds who desperately want, nay, need to fit in. We can't just segregate them all first thing. What message does that send? How do you promote tolerance and acceptance when we immediately shove them into segregated living spaces? Let them keep the private sleeping towers and even their house common rooms, but we have to give them a place where they can socialise together. During the Battle of Hogwarts, we all fought together, side-by-side. We died together. We cannot let them forget that what those who came before did endure to give them what they have now. That includes you, Severus."

Minerva had never completely forgiven Albus for keeping Severus' role in the war one of his deepest secrets. She had almost finished forgiving Severus for keeping it from her as well. The difference had been that Severus was alive to smother with Animagus cat cuddles and lap-kneading, headbonks in public, leaving patches of silvery cat hair on his robes, and other such feline forms of retribution.

In public, he scowled, but privately he had quite a soft spot for the Scottish witch.

Severus grunted, clutching his hand with the other. His hands were twisting, stretching into something inhuman. The spell Albus had cast on him to suppress Bellatrix' curse was beginning to unravel. Worse, his appearance was starting to revert back to how it had been when he had first been cursed. His wrinkles were smoothing out. His hair was growing longer. His veins were disappearing— at least in his human countenance. His OTHER aspect was probably the furthest thing from human as one could possibly become. Thankfully, his long robes covered most of it, and as long as he didn't smile, which wasn't exactly difficult or unexpected of him, his teeth didn't give away their very inhuman appearance. Glamours would do, he supposed, if he really had to, but what he really needed was to get rid of the curse.

A curse that Bellatrix, herself, had specifically designed to not have a counter.

Who could ever be attracted to him? How about a specimen of tall, dark, and slavery? Not bloody likely.

Lucius had spent a great many galleons trying to find a way to break the curse on Severus before the Dark Lord's return. Nothing had worked. Now, Lucius was lucky to have even a fraction of his fortune after the Dark Lord had squatted in his manse for a great many months and had freely used his funds to grease the wheels of so many people of influence. Hell, he was lucky to have his freedom and that of his wife and son as well.

The Malfoy family now owed a great debt of more than merely gratitude to one Master and Professor Granger for developing the first Arithmancy counter-curse to unravelled the long-term effects of Dark magic on the body. She had not intended for it to do what it had done— remove the Dark Mark itself— as it had originally been designed to help Mr and Mrs Longbottom. Hermione had tested it on herself— making many of her scars fade away to nothing, in particular the vile scar that Bellatrix had given her as a twisted parting gift.

Mudblood.

Preferring to stay well out of the limelight, Master Granger had returned to Hogwarts to teach at Minerva's request. Her counterspell and her years spent in multiple famed hospitals around the world, teaching their healers how to use it, had more than padded her coffers, paid off her entire debt to the goblins for crashing through their bank on the back of their own dragon, and made it so she really didn't have to work. Her talents in Arithmancy were sought all across the world, and people paid her handsomely to craft them custom spells from determining the likelihood of good crops to their baby's magical potential at birth.

That spell had been quite popular in favour of the traditional trying to scare the shite out of said baby to get it do accidental magic.

Merlin only knew why.

She'd even developed an Arithmancy equation to determine if a house-elf was truly happy and had been quite surprised by the results of her efforts. In fact, she'd discovered that most of the house-elves out there were, in fact, very happy with their respective families, forcing her to re-evaluate her misconception that all house-elves were slaves against their will.

To top it off, she'd developed an Arithmancy-infusion potion that allowed a spell to be suspended within a carrier liquid, and due to her (without even asking) giving him credit for half of the formula, had put him in a financial place he'd never dreamed he'd ever be in: out of debt and with a long list of clients that wanted custom potions done specifically by him.

Him.

Severus Snape.

Bastard extraordinaire.

His name actually carried weight, now.

At least in the potion-making business, people didn't care what you looked like as long as the potion worked. He didn't have to make public appearances. He didn't have to teach. He could be sodding anthropomorphic wombat with wings, but as long as he could still make a damn effective potion, no one was going to question it. At least when teaching here at Hogwarts, they already expected him to be some kind of hideous bat-monster that hung from the rafters by his feet.

Well, to be fair, he did have some seriously impressive, monstrous wings.

He couldn't remember much in his fully beast moments. Fragments trickled in here and there: flying, seeking, looking for something. The rest— the more he tried to remember, the more it hurt, as if his two minds, both beast and man, kept things hidden.

"To be fair, you have a sexier voice."

Severus twitched, the memory of the younger professor's confession caused his chest to seize and a low, rumbling growl to escape his throat. She—the bushy-haired Master of Arithmancy—liked his voice. Thoughts tingled in the back of his subconscious, begging to be realised, but he pushed the feeling away. Voice was one thing. He would not presume that meant other things. Besides, Hermione Granger had always been there help those who did not deserve help. Had she not "helped" the Golden Trio, they would never have passed their class essays. It didn't take a genius to tell when an essay went from sounding flat and barely coherent to frighteningly detailed.

"Let go of me, Ron!"

"Come on, 'Mione! You said you wanted a little time. I gave you a bloody week! Let's get married!"

Severus' head snapped towards the window and he was there in an instant, a low growl forming deeo within his throat.

Ronald Weasley did not belong on the grounds after hours.

"You're hurting me!" Hermione's voice came from the courtyard.

Pain twinged up his arm as her words reached him, and venom dripped from elongated teeth that were suddenly too big for his mouth.

Leave it alone.

She can handle it herself.

He saw their figures shadowed near the rose bushes. Weasley's hulking male body loomed over Professor Granger's as she yanked her wrist free of his grip.

---

"I know you don't actually needing time to think," Ron accused. "You went and filed a patent for another potion!"

"So what, Ronald? People do that sort of thing all the time." Hermione rubbed her sore wrist.

"You paid off the goblins for something we did to save the world?! Why waste that kind of money! Mum said you and Harry paid them all off. Why? We did it save the world!"

"We destroyed over twelve levels of a bank and a rail system!"

"So? We needed that money, Hermione. Mum and dad got practically nothin' left after the Death Eaters burned the Burrow down. The war stole most of dad's money, thanks to people like Umbridge taxing his income. If you were going to give away free money, it should have done to people who really needed it!"

"The goblins are people too!" Hermione said, voice raised. "They had living quarters we busted through. We're lucky no one died when that dragon tore through the floors! We missed the nursery by only a few feet, Ronald!"

"You should have saved it for our kids!" Ronald blurted.

"W— wha?" Hermione sputtered. "Ronald, I'm not marrying you!"

"We kissed! That means—"

"That means you need to go talk to Lavender Brown before you even start thinking what you're thinking, mister!" Hermione said.

"What do you—?"

"You were snogging her long before your lips met mine, Ronald Weasley, so if you are going to pull that old Pureblood thing about a kiss making a contract, then you need to go find Lavender and pay her retribution for having the audacity to kiss me!"

"Me, kiss you? You kissed me! You can pay her this— this— retribution!"

Ronald grabbed her wrists together and tightened his grip. "I don't know what stick you shoved up your arse to make you believe you even have a chance at a good marriage without me, 'Mione."

Hermione's hair stood on end as golden numbers swirled around her, melded with her rage and her magic. Her magic burned, and Ron let go of her with a pained yelp. Magic lashed out from her body, and he went tumbling arse over kettle into the rose bushes.

"I would rather be alone forever than marry you, Ronald," Hermione snapped, her magic flaring around her body in a cloud of gold and red. "My answer is no. Consider my invitation to stay after hours and 'talk' with me at Hogwarts to be revoked."

The magic on the grounds flared in response, and the wards closed in, sending the alert for an intruder to every professor and staff on the grounds in a flood of cold magic. The lights in the living quarters around the courtyard began to light up.

Hermione turned her back on Ron and moved to walk back to her quarters. Ron, pulling himself out of the rose bushes, turned a very angry shade of purple. He pulled out his wand and ran towards her, casting a spell with every step he took.

A loud almost-draconic roar filled the courtyard as a spread of fathomless black wings descended upon the area. The spells ricocheted off of the membrane, and the wings pulled back to expose a ghastly muzzle filled with yellowed fangs dripping with venom. Fur rippled over large muscles, and eyes as black as the Abyss stared into Ronald Weasley.

A dark spot quickly spread between Ron's trouser legs, and he scrambled to flee in the other direction, but the beast was far faster. It towered over Ronald, its fangs bared in nothing short of pure hate.

Ron stumbled, getting torn up by the rose bushes, screaming for help. His arm trembled as he had his wand out, trying to cast spells at what could only be a demon from the fires of hell.

The beast's talons closed around his wand hand.

Crack!

Ron screamed, pulling his hand to his chest, but there was no blood, only the remains of Ron's wand falling to the flagstones on the path.

The beast moved to perhaps put Ron's screaming to a halt, but Hermione stood in front of it. "No."

The beast hesitated, lips pulling back from its yellowed teeth.

Hermione placed her hand on its chest. "Let him go. He knows he's not welcome here, now."

Great puffs of vapour came from the beast's nostrils, and its nostrils flared as it snuffled her bushy mane of hair. Its chest rose and fell with its great breaths. They stood, Hermione with her hand outstretched to its chest and it towering over her and Ron like an ominous shadow. It's wings unfurled, leaving an opening.

Hermione silently stepped into it, allowing the beast's wing to fold around her. It rumbled softly— a purr or a croon.

There was the sound of running in the halls, and Hermione pulled away. "Go!"

The beast growled, ready to stand its ground. It snarled towards Ronald and down the hall.

"Please!" Hermione pleaded.

It crooned at her, seemingly unable to leave.

"Please!" Hermione repeated.

The beast's wings unfurled, but its arm reached out for her.

Hermione, weighing her options, knowing soon the other professors would arrive to deal with Ronald, stepped into the beast's embrace. Its furred arm wrapped around her and it launched into the air, taking Hermione with it into the midnight sky.

As the professors arrived, Ron was curled into a ball, cradling the pieces of his broken wand, repeating nothing but one word over and over: demon.

---

Hermione didn't fear the beast as much as she feared for it. She feared it would be found and taken away, studied, tortured, or worse. It seemed as though he had always been there, ever since she'd run away from the disaster that had been the Yule Ball. It had been a time she she'd really wanted— no, needed— a friend and had nothing. The beast had been there— hulking amongst the statues of the ramparts, looking ever so much the gargoyle brought to life.

That was what she'd thought it was— one of Hogwart's protectors. She had been so afraid. There was nothing in Hogwarts, A History to tell her about that! But at the sound of her cry of terror, the beast's ears had flattened against its head, and it had visually slumped.

"I'm sorry," she had said. "You startled me."

The beast sat on its tail, wings crumpled around itself as it seemed unsure what to do or what movement wouldn't cause her to scream again.

Hermione sat down, pulling her legs up between her arms. "I'm sorry if I startled you," she said quietly. She stared into the dark gloom of the night. "I just needed to get away from… everything."

The beast made a strange, rumbling sort of sound.

"You sound a bit like Crookshanks," Hermione said. "When he really wants to jump in my lap."

The beast had slowly stretched out to snuffle her hair, his soft breaths sending her hair flying in all directions.

The warmth of his snuffles caused Hermione to giggle a little, and she reached up to try and soothe her hair back into place, but her hand touched the beast's muzzle, her fingers brushing against his velvet-soft nose.

She had realised, absently, that the beast had three sets of nostrils instead of one. They flared as he took in her scent. The skin around them was soft, covered by a thin, velvety down. She pet it gently, fascinated by the softness.

The beast's eyes fluttered closed as a low thrumming came from his throat.

"I'm Hermione," she said softly. She winced, pulling away. "I'm not anyone special." She sat down against the rampart wall, slumping.

The beast thrust his muzzle under her hand again, wedging his great head under her arm in a mockery of what Crookshanks would do for a pet.

He thrummed as she caressed his head, stroking his large, bat-like ears. A percolating sound came from his throat as he laid his head against her chest.

Hermione's eyes drifted closed as she listened to the sound, her hand continuing to stroke the beast's soft ears as her other ran her thumb gently across his velvety nostrils. Her body sagged against the wall as she relaxed, her head tipping forward.

The beast's wing went around her, pulling her toward its warm body, and it felt more than comfortable, like her favourite pillow could purr. She snuggled into that pervasive warmth, eyes drifting shut even as she watched the dance of magic writhe and slither from the beast's body and over her skin. Part of her struggled to alert her to the possibility of danger, but it felt calming— peaceful, as though Crookshanks suddenly became gargantuan and sprouted a pair of wings to go with it.

The magic swirled off the beast's skin and fur, wafting towards her like a visible scent, and she breathed it in. It tickled her nose, and she snuffled slightly, and the beast nuzzled her, it tongue slithered out to groom her hair in multiple directions. Hermione snuggled closer, her exhaustion claiming her as the lull of the beast's warmth covered better than any blanket.

Hermione felt the soft thump of landing as the beast released her from his embrace. She flushed as she realised he had brought her to his lair— the domain of Severus Snape when the beast was not awake. It was the one place she knew she'd never been invited— by the man. It hadn't been until she started working at Hogwarts as a professor that she had come to realise that her beastly protector was actually Severus Snape. She was almost positive that he had no idea of their friendship when he sported wings and fur.

She hadn't realised it at first, as the times he had come to her as a beast had always been at her loneliest, and she had to be honest that when she was lonely the last person she thought of when she was lonely was Professor Snape. He was prickly and cantankerous and then some. He snapped at her, even as a professor, calling her so many cruel names… that alone should have sent her packing.

It wasn't until she caught a whiff of his scent— the beast— on Severus' robes that she had started to realise that there was so much more to Professor Snape than she had originally thought. Even then, she hadn't realised what she smelled was the beast. It was so comforting and achingly familiar, like something remembered from childhood.

Eventually, when she had figured out how to weave Arithmancy equations into healing spell, she had found out that Dark magic could be dispelled from living flesh. Using herself as a test subject, she had made her battle scars disappear. Then, she had approached Severus for permission to test her spell on the one bit of Dark Magic she knew he'd so much wanted to see removed from his person: the Dark Mark.

That had been the start of an actual friendship between herself and the brooding Potions master. But, alas, that was all it was. He always made a point to avoid doing anything that would lead to a touch, no matter how normal it would have been between anyone else, it was never normal for him. Theirs was a relationship of friendly banter, book reading, tea, and complaints about student ineptitude.

But they never touched.

Harry said that Severus had never let go of his love of his mother, Lily, and Hermione was sadly resigned to believe it. Severus had made no secret of his absolute unwillingness to play the courting game. His scathing replies to the conversation at the Head Table made it even more clear that the very last thing Severus Snape wanted was a relationship with some random witch who thought she knew him or— worse— pitied him.

It wasn't until he had fallen asleep reading what must have been an outstandingly boring piece of parchment, that Hermione realised that Severus Snape had a very different kind of secret.

A secret with fangs and claws, wings and venom.

Sleep had brought about a startling transformation into the very beast that had been her secret friend and companion ever since her 4th year.

The beast seemed to care for her. He would always appear when she felt the lowest, or when her fear overruled her reason. The beast had been her comfort after getting a "private" session with Madam Umbridge and her quills, and again when she had realised Harry had been tortured too, but he had pushed her away telling her to mind her own business. He'd been her only comfort in the Forest of Dean when Harry and Ron snored away in the tent. For years, he'd been her silent confidant, her saviour against loneliness, and even the real reason she had survived Yaxley's attack on her coming out of the Ministry of Magic.

She had her own secrets as well. The night Bellatrix had tortured her, she had felt the warm curls of the familiar bond that had formed between them. Knowing that if the beast sensed her pain, he would come to her, she shut herself down, denying the beast the sense of her pain for his sake. She couldn't risk her friend being captured and tortured by Bellatrix and her sadistic allies.

Once the war had been over. She hadn't expected to see the beast again. Hogwarts lay in ruins. Almost everything she had known was changed. Part of her wondered if he had been slain in the war. Part of her hoped he had found a better place far from the violence and tragedy that was Hogwarts.

Part of her had only wanted to feel the warm wrap of wings around her again.

Her time in the Forest of Dean had laid to rest all her doubts about a future between herself and Ronald. There were simply not meant to be. Perhaps, they had never been, or perhaps they had changed too much. Either way, her heart was not happy with the thought of a lifetime with Ronald Weasley, whose only areas of interest seemed to be Quidditch, food and girls.

The time after the war she had chosen to dedicate to her studies, obtaining her N.E.W.T.s despite not being required to earn them anymore. She took up her mastery with an Arithmancy master in the Netherlands, spent a few years apprenticed to a Healer in Switzerland , and then she had allowed herself to be lured back to Hogwarts by Minerva. She had finally been ready to face Hogwarts again. So, before returning to Britain, she paid off her debts to the goblins by teaching them a spell of her own making: one that was designed to mend stone. It was more than simple transmutation. It was a little of that, plus a little Arithmancy, and a little ancient Earth magic. It was a gift from her studies abroad. There had been a lot of things she had learned during her time away from Britain.

But even with as much as she learned, she longed for something she could never seem to obtain no matter how many books she read or spells she learned or made. No matter how many wizards she had dated, no matter how kind or wonderful they were, the ache in her heart remained. She let them go, feeling it wasn't fair to lead them on when her heart refused to accept them as but shadows against the safety and warmth she so fondly remembered.

Safety in the arms of something that wasn't even human.

Truly she was doomed to be a witch with hundred Kneazles— a pining spinster who had never known love in her life.

Yet, when she had returned to Britain, he had been right there, perched in the shadows of the very first place she had met him.

She expected him to be angry for abandoning him. Hateful. Scornful.

But his wings were as warm as they had always been. His embrace and the tremor of his croon were as comforting as they had always been.

He had waited for her.

She might never have a lover or a mate, but she had her beast. And while he may never love her as wizard would love their witch, he was a kind and caring sort of beast. She would not make the mistake of presuming he had human emotions or human feelings, but she accepted that he found comfort from her in some way and she in him. It was enough. It would have to be enough.

She hadn't even made the connection between the beast and Severus Snape until sleep had finally transformed him right before her eyes. The parchments he had been reading had fallen off his furry chest as the beast's triple nostrils flared and his black, black eyes looked around. Upon seeing her, he made a soft croon that soothed the nerves she hadn't realised she'd had.

Severus Snape may not have wanted her close, but the beast wasted no time at all enfolding her within himself again. His wings wrapped around her and drew her close. His muzzle pressed into her hair, snuffling her deeply.

And the tenderness of that feeling, that strange sort of intimacy, was enough. Going to sleep in that warmth made everything else just fade away. But it was clear that the beast and the man were not on speaking terms. Severus, while as friendly in conversation as one such as him could be, avoiding touching her like the plague.

So, Hermione had resolved that while she could stay with him as the beast— something the beast seemed to insist on— she could not presume to seek such closeness with the man. She kept his secret, even unto himself, and slipped out his human embrace to spare both him and herself the painful drama of misunderstanding that would undoubtedly cause. She might not know him very well, for he rarely ever volunteered any information about himself, but she knew that as much as she longed to share such closeness with the man behind the monster, the monster at least made it perfectly clear that she was welcome. The man— she wasn't even sure the man knew what the man wanted.

Severus must have heard the row with Ronald, and the beast had most definitely answered, but again the beast and the man didn't seem to be on speaking terms. No small irony there, she mused. She was endeared to a beast, but she couldn't even get a small touch from the man.

She had no idea what had caused his condition, but she had a feeling he believed it to be a curse. Yet the beast was only monstrous in appearance. She wondered if he knew that or even suspected it. If their seemingly 180 degree difference in opinion of her had anything to say about it, she suspected not.

The beast nudged her, his wing pulling a book from the shelf and putting it into her hands. He looked at her expectantly, hopeful.

"You want me to read Exibar's Treatise on Wolfsbane?" Hermione asked with disbelief.

Hermione let out her breath with a chuckle. "Okay, but if you show any signs of changing back, I'm out of here. I am so not getting in trouble with your alter ego and being blamed for fondling his books!"

The beast huffed, steam coming from his triple nostrils. He nudged her with his nose and growled softly.

"Okay, okay," Hermione said sitting down. "I wish you could read to me," she said sombrely. "I really do love his voice— when he isn't spewing pure hate at me, anyway."

The beast rumbled and pulled her in closer, wrapping his wing around her.

"Wolfsbane is a deceptive plant," Hermione began to read, "and very few truly realise its greatness or its dangerous qualities…"

---

The beast had gone to sleep.

Hermione knew because the beast was now the man, and she had to carefully, oh so carefully extricate herself from his warm embrace. Oddly, the feel of their arms was so similar. Their scents were now one and the same, and it made sense considering they were one the same, even if they didn't realise it. It pained her to leave him. That feeling of safety and comfort was as addicting as any drug.

Hermione frowned. She shouldn't fool herself. What kind of life was it when only one half of the person truly cared for her? That half was also someone she could never take out for dinner and a show in downtown London. There would never be Sunday brunches with the parents. They would never be able to veg on the couch together and watch movies only to have her mom come and accost them both with popcorn and a homemade afghan.

Did any of that really matter?

Hermione carefully placed the book she had been reading to the beast back on the bookshelf, her fingers lovingly caressing the spines of his most impressive collection of tomes. She looked back on the sleeping potions master, seeing the fall of his hair across his face. He looked younger when he wasn't scowling. He looked— perhaps it was a trick of the light. He almost looked her age, as though the lines of stress and war had fallen away.

Hermione knew that she had to leave before he awoke as a human and things became— well, complicated, but a part of her was really tired of fleeing. But when she thought of the beast, she couldn't stand to think that her actions would harm him. If Severus tried to do something to himself to somehow harm the beast, then it would be her fault. The beast had done nothing— nothing but be kind to her. She couldn't bear to hurt him.

The selfish niggling in the back of her head told her that she didn't want to lose the one friend she had who had never once hurt her. Even Harry couldn't claim that. They had their ups and downs just as most friends did, which is what made her relationship to Severus' alter-ego all the more precious and yet all the more frustrating.

Hermione closed her eyes. Maybe she should stay and let the fact that his virtually impregnable wards had not been breached do the talking for her. She sighed. No, Severus deserved a proper talk, but not like this. So far, they had been lucky. The transformation from beast back into man left Severus in a deeper sleep than usual, and left her sufficient time to preserve both of their dignities. While she had never felt shame in her bond with the beast, she doubted Severus would ever feel such compassion for the likes of her.

She was just a annoying, buck-toothed, know-it-all, Mudblood Gryffindor chit. And that was all she would ever be.

No amount of impressive achievements would ever erase that taint from her past. Lucius Malfoy may have set down his sword and wand and asked forgiveness for past deeds, but it wasn't the same as equality.

And, perhaps, what she wanted wasn't truly equality. A part of her, while she wanted conversation and understanding, was tired of being the one that always had to be looking over her shoulder for the next dagger in the back, best friend leaving after accusing her of sleeping with her other best friend, grief stricken friend accusing her of holding out magic while he held his dying house-elf— the list went on. For a time, with her beast-friend, she was safe and protected. She could sleep forever and feel that it was safe to do so.

Yet, despite the bond she knew was between her and Snape's beastly other-self, her relationship with the potions master remained continually frozen in the friendzone. Part of her believed that it was karma for not accepting Viktor's offer of courtship when all he had wanted was simply a chance. But instead of accepting his offer to get to know him better, she had foolishly clung to the ridiculous idea that she and Ron could be together.

What. An. Idiot.

When she'd seen him at the wedding, she'd actually tried to reconnect with the Bulgarian Seeker, knowing that it may be the last time she saw him if things went pear shaped on the run. But when she'd tried to approach Viktor, he'd given her such a sad look before blending back into the crowd. Harry had given her an odd look. She'd tried to find him, but then the Death Eater attack had happened.

It was useless crying over it now. Viktor was happily married, probably very happy to be away from the ongoing drama that was wizarding Britain and Rita Skeeter's poisonous quill.

Hermione gently pulled the duvet over Severus' sleeping form. Her fingers oh-so-tenderly touched the lock of black hair that fell across his face. It, much like the beast's velvety muzzle, reminded her of his soft, warm breath and gentle nuzzles.

Maybe she should stay—

She instantly froze as Severus began to stir, pulling the duvet more tightly around himself like a cocoon.

"Lily," he said, his voice cracked with pain and longing.

Hermione closed her eyes, calling upon her all of her control to drive her emotions deep. When her eyes opened, the normal whisky-brown eyes had darkened into black. She swept the room, allowing the door to close behind her with a click.

---

"Lily, please!"

"You're a monster, Sev," Lily yelled, brandishing her wand at him. "Just look at you!"

"Please, Lily! It's a curse! I need—"

"I warned you what would happen if you stayed with the likes of Mulciber and Avery!" Lily accused.

"This isn't—" Severus dropped to his knees, his talons digging into the dirt as he struggled to speak through a muzzle filled with rows of jagged, shark-like teeth. "Please, Lily. It was Bellatrix! She put in a way to break—"

"Kill some innocent? Is that why you're here?" Lily demanded angrily.

"No!" Severus groaned. "No, Lily. Please, there is a counter curse. I need your help! You're the only—"

"Go find help from your non-Mudblood friends, Sev," Lily said coldly. "I told you not to even bother trying to come back while you were still hanging out with your Death Eater pals."

Lily then turned her back on him and began to walk away.

"Lily!" he cried, "Did you ever really care for me? Why can you not forgive me one mistake when you can forgive—"

Lily whirled. "Don't you DARE bring James into this, Severus," she seethed. "He's not a Death Eater."

"But Death Eaters were the only ones willing to protect me from HIM!" Severus spat.

Lily curled her lip disdainfully. "He told me about all those dark curses you threw at him, Sev. So maybe whatever this is you have now is karma. Or maybe you are just trying to lure me in so I pity you, take you in again. Either way, I'm not falling for it. My wedding is in month. Make your gift to me not being there."

Lily turned and left as the beast threw back its head and howled.

---

Severus awoke feeling like he'd just been punched in the gut and kicked between the legs, and as a person who had his fill of the the Dark Lord's Cruciatus curse, he wasn't all too keen on a reminder of exactly what that had felt like either. Worse still, he felt a tangible emptiness that reminded him greatly of when Lily had refused to even humour even the possibility that she could dispel the curse on him. It was a memory he couldn't help but remember with the bitterest of pain and loathe himself over.

Bellatrix had known, just as any of the other Purebloods had, that Severus' sole weakness was his childhood friend, Lily. It had been only fitting to bind his curse to the need for willing and mutual affection knowing that Lily would never forgive him for his transgression. Even as a part of him knew that the Death Eaters "club" was just an excuse to push him away, he had still returned to her, begging for a chance to break Bellatrix's twisted little "gift".

She had made him utterly impervious to most spells, including the ones that could undo the curse, intending to use him as a weapon for her Lord— but Lucius had given him time enough to flee before she could bind him to her service. And each night after that, he became less and less human, and after he had groveled to Dumbledore, he and his beastly counterpart weren't even on speaking terms.

While before, he could always feel the beast's longing for that essential, compassionate touch to ease the pain, now there was nothing. At least, that was how it had been until Dumbledore's spell had begun to unravel. Now, little bits of the beast were trickling into his mind, just as the physical transformation was beginning to come upon him during the day.

And the chaotic jumble that was the beast's thoughts was quite confusing to him— a mixture of what could only be his daily experiences thrown into a blender and set on pulverize.

The aching loneliness and pain of the beast had been maddening after the war. It was like he howled for something every night, but he was bed-bound and under the constant care of Lucius' personal healer after Nagini's parting gift. Lucius said he owed it to him to see him well. It had taken years to get back up to where he could stand for an hour without teetering over due to an embarrassing lack of muscle tone. When he had finally returned to Hogwarts to teach, the restlessness stirred again in his soul, trying to claw its way out and drive him to find something far away— a something he had to get to.

And just when he was about to lose the battle of wills, the strange drive stopped. Then Hermione Granger had returned to Hogwarts along with Neville Longbottom. Longbottom, thankfully, stuck with Herbology most of the time, and Granger was always talking complicated equations with Septima Vector of the like even his mind found some awe in.

So, he had switched the torture of his beast's endless, aching loneliness for the torture of having Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger coming back to haunt him. He hadn't been sure which was truly better.

He rubbed his face and shook off the sleepiness as he pulled on his black woolen robes. Even now that he wasn't in the dungeons, he was used to having them as a shield against potion explosions, sun, and other bothersome things.

There was a strangely familiar scent that teased his nostrils, and he rubbed them absently. It was light, like milk and honey with a dash of— what was that scent?

Was it neroli? Slightly sweet, almost metallic, a little bit spicy?

There was hint of musk to it, reminding him of something very much alive. His eyes closed as he rolled the scent around in in the back of his mouth. A low rumble escaped his throat.

His eyes opened in a flash. "What the hell is wrong with me?" He shook himself off and ran a comb through his hair.

The feel as someone gently passed a comb through his hair.

Soft hands brushing against his face— gently rubbing his ears.

The hell?

Severus winced. Was this what the beast wanted now? Someone to groom him? Pet his ears?

Warmth of a body nestled in his embrace, his wings wrapped around the only one that mattered—

Severus washed his face in cold water and tried to shake away the strange feelings, scents, and desires.

Small, delicate, pianist's fingers curled around his giant wing, pulling it closer.

His tongue slithered out and groomed her— the one, the only one— as a purring rumble resonated.

A giggle and a shove, firm, but not cruel. "That tickles!"

"It's not your fault," a voice said.

He saw the beast's tongue lave over a star-shaped scar over and over.

"I should have used a stronger spell. I shouldn't have held back."

The beast rumbled. Severus couldn't see her face, but he felt her hands cup his muzzle lightly.

"I'm afraid," the voice said, the touch of her warmth clung to his wing. "I'm afraid if I kill someone, I'll lose myself."

She clung to him, pressing into his warmth as his wings curved around her until she disappeared.

Severus felt a strange seizing in his chest that was akin to true pain. What was— how could— Someone had befriended the monster?

The ghost of that phantom touch came with a feeling, such acceptance, that it it shook him to the core. How was that possible? How did the beast… have a friend? A human friend?

A jolt startled him as the beast's thought was clear. She wasn't just a friend. She was the only one that mattered.

"That's impossible!" Severus argued outloud. "That would mean she— Lily couldn't even bear to touch me! How could some random girl allow the beast to bind itself to her?"

Is that why there weren't any murders? Reports of some monster rampaging across Britain's nights?

The beast had found— acceptance? Even when he could not?

That was who the beast pined for when he was fighting off Nagini's bite.

But who? Who was his monstrous alter-ego meeting? Who would possibly love… a beast?

The trickle of memories had stopped with an almost angry denial of service. Snape realised the beast was angry with him for presuming that it— he— was any less deserving of love.

"Come on! You're a giant slavering monster!" Severus cried, tugging at his hair.

Nothing. Whatever spirit of conversation had started was there no longer. He'd managed to piss off his alter just as easily as he antagonised his coworkers and his students.

He was a hopeless mess.

But, who was the witch? No face surfaced in his memories, almost as if the beast had purposely censored the memory to test his response— and he had failed it utterly.

Wonderful, Severus, he bashed himself. Not only can you piss off your best friend in school, you can also piss off a part of yourself you didn't even realise was sentient.

He pulled on his boots and exited his chambers, feeling as though he should never have gotten out of bed.

---

"Severus, you look like absolute shite," Pomona said, shaking her fork at him reproachfully.

"Thank you for your most astute observation," he growled, peeling a boiled egg with a scowl on his face. His gaze fell to the seat beside him, which, for once, was entirely unoccupied.

"Poor woman is staying with Neville this morning," Poppy said grimly. "He had a really rough night. Woke up this morning to find himself wrapped in the less-than-tender embrace of a Venomous Tentacula."

Minerva sighed. "The DoM has been rather busy analyzing the remnants of that potion, and apparently it's more than just a simple botch job. It's— like somehow other potions were mixed in with it after the initial explosion. So the potion in the cauldron wasn't quite the same as what hit Neville. Could you kindly explain why the cure you brewed isn't working, Severus?"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "What potion did it "mix" with? The memories Professor Longbottom gave us were very precise, if inept. I was very specific on the counter-potion."

"They aren't sure yet, Severus," Minerva said. "Whatever it was wasn't a standard potion that leaves traces that are easily recognisable. They were very thorough on the trace."

"Making an antidote will be next to impossible without knowing precisely what went into the mix, Minerva," Severus pointed out. "Longbottom's memories were bloody awful to sort through, but I can assure you that I did not miss anything."

Minerva waved him off. "I do not suspect that you did, Severus. I am simply wondering what else we can do for him short of locking him up every full moon."

Severus growled softly. "Send me their analysis and I will look it over again."

"Thank you, Severus."

Severus' lips pulled back from his teeth in a grimace, but he said nothing. He was beset with unease, and he knew it wasn't because of worry over Longbottom.

What, then, was it?

---

Hermione sighed as she watched over Neville.

"At least this is the last full moon this month, Neville," she said to the agitated Tentacula-man. He threw himself against the magical containment field that Poppy and Minerva had constructed with Pomona's assistance. He hissed at her, eyes glowing an unnatural, glowing green.

"Only Ron could help you turn into a were-plant," Hermione said, shaking her head.

They had moved the containment field to a small cottage away from Hogwarts as to not endanger the children, registered it with the Auror's office so there were no surprises if she or anyone who was watching over him needed assistance, and the place was unplottable to the Muggles.

"At least you can't hurt anyone out here, eh Neville?" she said, wincing as he threw himself against the cage. "You're going to be hurting tomorrow morning," she said, pity in her eyes.

Neville made a bunch of hissing, growling noises, trying to reach out and get his tentacles into her.

"I don't think so," Hermione said making sure her seat was well and truly far from the range of the seriously annoyed man-plant. She sighed. "Hannah sends her love and the hope that you can beat this thing. I know you were planning that wedding next year and were trying to keep it hush hush until it got a little bit closer, but— she kinda told us everything when she found out about your, erm, condition."

Hermione flipped through her book idly. "She really loves you. Hannah seems like a wonderful woman now that we've gotten to know her a little due to all of this. I just wish you'd let us meet her properly before all this. Hell, Harry didn't even realise you two were serious. He feels like he's a horrible Auror now because he didn't even suspect it."

Snarling and hissing was her only answer.

A book fell off the nearby shelf, and Hermione frowned. She picked it up, putting it back on the shelf in the correct alphabetical order. Her nostrils flared, a strange sense of layered scents infusing her senses. Sounds of the floor creaking under her seemed oddly heightened. Strange. Was a migraine coming on?

A knock on the door alerted her to a guest just before Neville-tacula slammed himself against the cage rather violently. She put her eye to the peephole and then opened the door. "Good evening, Professor Snape."

"... Professor Granger," he said awkwardly. "I have isolated a potion for an antidote, but I fear it will need a touch of your personal Arithmancy infusion to work."

"I see," she answered. "Please come in." She opened the door and gestured for him to enter.

He drifted in, totally ignoring the snarling, hissing, snapping Neville-tacula. Hermione silently brushed past Severus as she went to shelve her book. Suddenly, she slammed into something, yet nothing visible, and the book and she went flying in opposite directions.

Severus was there in an instant, catching her in a flash of movement. His black eyes were deeper, a low growl in his throat.

"I'm so clumsy. I'm terribly sorry," Hermione sputtered.

Snape's nostrils flared. For a moment, his nose pressed into her hair just before he straightened and released her. "Are you alright? H—" he stumbled over what to call her, feeling some tangible barrier between them that should have reassured him that there was nothing between them, yet it did not provide the relief that he thought it would.

He'd spent so many times pushing her away, establishing firm boundaries, walls, and shields to push her attempts at connection away. Now that she seemingly took his pushes away to heart, he felt a painful ache, a cold emptiness, settle in his chest.

Hermione stood and brushed herself off, holding her shoulders and rubbing them as though she were cold. "I'm fine, just— I'm not sure what I could've tripped over. Clumsy of me. I'm sorry, for troubling you." She looked up at his face and frowned. "You look— like you really need some sleep."

Severus snorted. "You are not the first to say that today."

"Perhaps that's a hint you should take to heart," she said, picking up the book and placing it carefully on the shelf.

Severus sat down on the couch and frowned it made a faint cracking noise.

Severus stood up abruptly "Who brought in this couch?"

Hermione blinked. "Um… Flitwick I think? Filius said it was in the common room and there were too many."

Severus patted the couch, feeling nothing untoward, and frowned, sitting down again. The couch squished and made no further protest.

"I fear sleep is not the great equaliser that it is for others," he confessed.

Hermione tilted her head, offering him a hot cup of tea. He took it without a word, sniffing it and then drinking deeply. "Care to tell me about it?" she asked.

Severus tugged at his collar. "It's a long history of pain and woe."

"I have nothing but time," Hermione said, pointing towards Neville-tacula.

"You heard about the memories I gave Potter?"

Hermione nodded. "I didn't see them, but Harry— he said you cared for his mother."

"We grew up together," Severus said, frowning. "I could not help but love her. She was everything I had never before had in my life. I could not resist her light. She was only one who gave me the time of day for a very long time. Then, I called her something horrible."

"You were tortured, by Harry's father and Sirius."

Severus sighed. "All of them. Potter, Black, Pettigrew, even Lupin. They all stood by as Potter and Sirius strung me up by my ankles, exposing my disreputable pants to the entire school. She tried to defend me, but I was far too angry. I called her that, and she never forgave me. She blamed it on my hanging out with Mulciber and Avery and the like, but I don't think that was really the reason."

Severus drank down the last of his tea. "She needed a reason to let me go, but I held her in my mind and guilt for what seems like forever. So much so that I— have the same nightmare over and over. I plead with her to forgive me, to help me. But she always walks away."

Hermione frowned. "I'm sorry, Severus."

"You deserve to know. She is the reason I push everyone away to this day. No, I am the reason, but— she was the start of the distrust I had. She was all I had and she walked away. She touted the light and repudiated me and married the man who had gleefully tormented me for seven long years. Yet I still tried to save her life— for all the good it did."

"I'm cursed, you see," Severus sighed. "The people Lily thought were my best friends gave me to Bellatrix as a toy for her to play with. She tried to turn me into a monster, a slave, to do her bidding, but Lucius, the one Lily believed to be the worst of them all, saved me at the very last moment. But I was still cursed. I am no one's catch, Hermione. You deserve so much better than the likes of me."

Hermione met his eyes, a trickle of whisky brown leaking into her dark irises. "Why don't you allow me to decide that for myself?"

Severus turned away, his eyes closing in shame. "I am a monster, Hermione."

"Maybe you are," Hermione allowed grimly, "but maybe a monster is only a thing that scares us because we do not understand."

Severus stared at Neville-tacula. "You aren't afraid of him."

Hermione shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't fancy any slow dances with him like this, if that is what you mean."

Severus snorted.

"Hannah can't even bear to look at him— not like this. I worry for him. It's not like he asked for this to happen to him. Hannah said that she loves him, and I do believe her, but I also know that she cannot accept what he has become. For three nights a month, unless we get this cure to work, he will be alone, save for those like me— those few who are willing to sit here and listen to him hissing so murderously at them."

Severus arched a brow. "You feel sympathy for him."

Hermione took in a deep breath. "Maybe, he just needs to find the right one, someone who can calm his anger and frustration."

"A closet romantic, Hermione?"

Hermione snorted. "Is it so very wrong to think there is someone special out there for you? Someone who can truly accept you, no matter what your face looks like, if your teeth are little too big, or your blood just a little too… impure."

Severus frowned. "Do you truly believe that about yourself?"

Hermione stared him in the eyes. "Do you truly believe yourself a monster?"

Severus winced. "Trust me that I am."

Hermione shook her head. "Believe me that you are not."

A planter crashed to the floor, sending bits of plant, dirt, and broken ceramic all over the floor.

Hermione startled. "I swear this place has a poltergeist." She pointed her wand at the mess and cleaned it up, neatly repotting the plant and guiding it back to its place on the shelf.

"How often do you have plants committing suicide on your watch?" Severus asked carefully.

"Normally— I don't." Hermione shrugged. "I don't usually trip over air either."

Severus frowned as he pulled out the stoppered potion flask, setting it on the table.

"Who warded this place?" Severus asked, eyes narrowing.

"Minerva, Pomona, and a few Unspeakables from the DoM," Hermione said. "The only ones that can arrive here are those they authorised and the Aurors in case something happens."

Severus frowned. "That is a lot of unknowns."

Hermione's brows furrowed. "I couldn't very well leave out the Aurors, Severus." She took in a long breath and released it. "Is that the potion you needed infused?"

"Yes," he replied. "The potion is complete but it alone will not cure his condition. There is grey magic in his condition, easily Dark magic had it been used maliciously. Had I not reevaluated the memories, I would not have realised it. There was a brief moment when there was a darkening of the potion. It looked like a blink, but it wasn't. It was when the potion came in contact with another potion just before it contacted Mr Longbottom."

Severus frowned, tugging at his collar. "I know where the connections need to be made, but Arithmancy is not my forté." He fidgeted. "I could guide you, but it would require— a connection, like a touch."

Hermione flinched.

Severus frowned. "I have hurt you."

"It's not your fault," Hermione said. "You made your feelings about being in a relationship plain. It is my fault for desiring something you have never wished for nor wanted to give."

It was his turn to flinch. "I never wished to hurt you," he said quietly. "Please believe it was entirely the opposite."

Hermione snorted, turning her head away.

"Hermione," Severus said quietly. "I am being truthful."

Hermione shook her head. "I know you are, Severus, which is why it is so painful. I do not think the reasons you have are as valid as you believe them to be. And that— is what hurts most of all."

"You have no idea what kind of foul curse has been placed upon me, Hermione." Severus said bitterly, his dark gaze shifting towards Neville-tacula, who was, for once, not throwing himself up against the cage bars or hissing viciously.

Hermione sighed. "Like the potion, magic is grey, Severus. What you do with it is what makes it something we consider light or Dark. Monsters are simply what the mind determines too alien to believe any other way. It is the difference between what we know is a dragon and what Muggles know as a mythical beast that shouldn't exist. Don't look at me like I'm Hagrid," she said, turning away. "I know there are dangerous things out there. I'm saying that there is far more to such 'cursed' beasts than being mindless and murderous. Werewolves seek out other werewolves and are not violent to each other or to Animagi. Neville isn't trying to murder us anymore. Even what Muggles consider 'normal' animals can recognise those who have tried to harm them."

"Why do you care so much for how I view my curse?" Severus asked, his dark eyes flicking toward her and holding her gaze.

Hermione closed her eyes. "Because I know what it is like for everyone to think I am nothing for no other reason than whatever they could make up. I am more than my blood. I am more than my Order of Merlin and war-heroine status. I am more than my Gringotts vault."

Severus seemed to be in deep thought. "Why did you give me a share of the credit for that potion? You could have easily taken it all. My contribution was minimal."

Hermione looked away.

"Hermione," Severus said again.

"You've provided help in far more ways than you think, Severus."

"I rather doubt that insulting you throughout your entire Hogwarts career was even remotely helpful."

Hermione closed her eyes and opened them again. She stared at her hand and very purposely held it out, fingers outstretched. "Tell me, why is it you would never touch me, even for the things a colleague would. Mundane things. Will you? Even for a moment? I need to know that you can and will, not just for a mental connection to make a potion. If I am going to open my mind to you for that— give you access to whatever random memories you might find— I would like to know."

Severus flinched, automatically pulling away from her.

Hermione's response was immediate. Her hand dropped and her shoulder's slumped. "I see."

Severus' hands clenched. "I can't."

Hermione's eyes cast down to the floor and and she shook her head. "It's fine. I realised now I've been a fool hoping for something that can never be.

"No," Severus said, teeth gritting together. "I. Can't... " He stared at her, his arms shaking. "Touch me. I. Cannot. Do it. I—" His body trembled as he attempted to force himself to ask for her assistance. Please."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed, looking for some sort of trap.

"I give you permission!" Severus hissed, his teeth grinding audibly. "Please! Something is terribly wrong— I cannot—"

Hermione reached out to touch him, but the moment she did, Severus flung himself out of the couch's seat with a cry. His eyes were wild with confusion and desperation.

"Please!" He pleaded. "Something is— I can't— do whatever you have to!"

Hermione frowned, realising that something was very, very wrong. She pulled out her wand, and her eyes widened as she saw Severus' body instinctively tense in response. She threw out a stunning spell, and he shielded against it, throwing a spell back at her. His face was twisted in anguish, his body jerking to protect itself from her, but his expression told all. He wasn't in control.

She cleared her mind, remembering the life and death responses that kept her alive. She remembered how then Professor Snape had stood calmly as he awaited Lockhart's duel.

Clear your mind.

Focus.

Survive.

She sprang up off the couch and started flinging spells, silently and mercilessly. He countered. He threw more spells at her. A lock of her hair went fluttering to the floor after magic sliced it away. She ignored it. She ignored that his spells were becoming ever more desperate and lethal. She ignored it all.

Something was definitely influencing him, and she had to subdue him.

Green and red went streaking by her, and she threw up shields over and over. She used a tea service platter to reflect the spells back toward him. She flung it at him, direct to the face, forcing him to move instead of cast. Had she even been paying attention, she would have notice Neville-tacula huddling in the back of the cage, seemingly having no interest in taking part of whatever fight was going on, but she wasn't.

Severus snarled at her, throwing the pot of hot tea at her, and she dodged. The tea pot shattered and splashed scalding water all over the floor and shelves. His eyes were glazed— controlled— and Hermione fell into a battle haze of her own making.

Cast.

Counter.

Cast.

Counter.

She grabbed whatever she could and threw it at him, buying her precious seconds to dive behind something else. There was one main difference.

Severus was out to kill—

She was trying not to and to somehow survive.

Hers was the more difficult job by far. Severus was downright lethal in the area of martial magic.

Death Eater.

No! A man pretending to be a Death Eater— far, far more dangerous.

Minerva had once said how Severus had deflected one of her fire spells to hit Alecto and Amycus Carrow. The Carrow twins had been very "neatly" obliterated by Severus cleverly twisting Minerva's spell onto them. Severus Snape was no small talent in fighting magic. Someone was counting on that to make it so no one ever broke the compulsion geas on him.

ZING!

Hermione cried out as a cutter caught her right across the temple, and a trickle of blood slid down the side of her face.

Her cry of pain seemed to cause Severus to hesitate, the glassy look on his face twisted into a bestial snarl as his teeth bared, mouth opening as he scented using his mouth instead of his nose.

Hermione couldn't waste time. "Incarcerous!" she cried, catching Snape in ropes. He went crashing down. Hermione stumbled forward, her hand reaching out—

"Subjicere silentium!" a familiar voice yelled, and Hermione suddenly felt the tightening of magic-restricting ropes around her body, she landed face first and slid across the floor, her hand still outreached for Severus' hand.

"I can't believe you gave money to that bastard git!" Ron's voice yelled.

"Constricto maxima!"

The ropes tightened so much that Hermione could barely breathe.

How did he get a wand? His wand should be in pieces! Hermione's thoughts raced.

"You were supposed to have a nice dinner with me so I could give you the potion my big brothers made, but then the bloody cauldron blew up. So I'm just going to funnel the last of it down your throat. We'll get married. I'll take all the money that belongs to me, and I'll go live with Lavender, leaving you heartbroken for all the trouble you put me through!"

Hermione fought to say something, but her lips moved soundlessly. Her fingers wriggled, but her body felt like it was being sat on by an invisible elephant. She could hardly breathe, hardly think.

Oh he'd been good. He'd waited until she and Severus were exhausted after fighting each other. She strained against the spell, almost passing out, but Snape's fingers were almost in reach. She felt her arm bone twisting in its socket. He must have been there all night. The air she had run into— the things that kept dropping. It hadn't been a poltergeist; it had been Ron!

Pain.

Tearing.

Agony.

Her middle finger reached out and just barely brushed against Severus' hand.

Protego! She screamed in her mind, giving Severus the last of her energy, her will, her rage, and her defiance.

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

There was a loud CRACK as a spell broke and the counterspell backlash sent a blinding nova of magic throughout the room.

---

"Albus, you can't mean to do this!" Minerva's voice protested angrily. "This is a powerful magical bond!

"Ms Granger is barely of age, Minerva. We need Severus to do what he must and I cannot allow him to be distracted by her!"

"This was Bellatrix's curse! If this is the cure he's been needing, you have no right to deny him it! You have no right to deny them both if this is a magical bonding!"

Hermione Granger lay cradled in the beast's wings and body, protected in an embrace of body and wings. Magic was flowing around them both, slithering across their bodies and breathed into their lungs.

"It doesn't matter that she's only just turned seventeen, Albus! Magical bonds are the most sacred bonds we have! You remember the wording. Bellatrix said only true, mutual love could end his curse!"

"This is for the greater good, Minerva. This must be done!"

"No! Albus!" Minerva cried, holding back his arm.

"I'm sorry, Minerva. This must be done."

"Alb—"

"Obliviate."

Minerva fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.

---

"Planning on getting married, Headmaster?" Severus said with a scowl, staring at the ornate rings tied to a parchment scroll on his desk.

"What? Oh no, Severus. I'm beyond marriage. These are just left from some students who thought they'd fake an official marriage notice to get out of exams."

Severus curled his lips. "Wonderful."

"Why, Severus, don't you ever wish to get married?"

Snape jerked his head back. "Are you mental, old man? Who on this entire sodding planet would want someone like me let alone someone I would want?"

Albus drummed his fingers on his desk as he tucked the rings and scroll away into his desk.

Severus spied the lettering on the scroll.

Lord Severus Tobias Snape and Lady Hermione Jean Snape

Writ and Official License of Marriage

Severus scowled darkly. "Tell your idiot students that if they are going to write up a marriage scroll, they should at least make it plausible. Idiots."

Snape stormed out of the Headmaster's office with his black robes billowing behind him.

Albus popped a lemon sherbet into his mouth and smiled.

---

"You'll accept me?" Snape fell to his knees.

"Severus, of course I will," Hermione scoffed. "If I can accept tall, dark, and beastly, I think I can work with tall, dark, and snarky."

Snape snorted, taking Hermione's hand in his.

"Besides," Hermione said with a smile. "I think the choice had already been made."

Severus' expression was pained. "Do not think you are obligated just because the beast—"

Hermione shook her head. "If anything, the beast has petitioned that I give you a fair shake— that you are more than just a grumpy and cruel man who has nothing better to do than insult my teeth."

Severus' expression softened, regret flickered across his eyes.

"I will not deny you peace with the beast, when you have suffered for so long trying to push him away. But Bellatrix didn't finish what she started. She created a body and a potential for great harm, but she forgets like so many people forget— that what matters is on the inside. Maybe, you will give the beast a chance to be at peace with you, now. And maybe— you can learn to give me one too."

Snape winced. "Please do not think my previous words were all I think of you. There are reasons— things I cannot speak of."

Hermione turned away. "Will you tell me, when all of this war business is done?"

"I cannot tell you— but perhaps—" Severus extended his hand. "Perhaps he can."

Hermione looked Severus in the eyes.

"Think like a Slytherin, Hermione," Severus said meaningfully. "I cannot tell you, but you find the answer yourself if the door was open and waiting to be found. I'm sure in all your reading, you were not negligent in certain old spells, especially those most fascinating in the restricted section."

Hermione's eyes widened. "You knew about that?"

"Who do you think gave you the pass?"

"You— but I thought—" Hermione's eyes went wide.

Snape snorted. "Perhaps there is more to me than you thought."

Hermione's expression changed, going from astonishment to glee. Her hands clasped his as she met his eyes—

And the flood of his memories washed over her.

---

"Is it odd to admit that it's easier to consider a good snuggle with a beast than the man?" Hermione said awkwardly, her hand touching his.

"You're saying you prefer furred and snarly?"

"Yes, I mean— gah!"

Snape's shoulders quaked as he enjoyed her awkward confession.

He grew serious after a while. "This could very well be a permanent magical bond, Hermione. You are allowed to say no. You have every right to."

"I like it when you laugh," she said quietly. "Your hair falls about your face and your get these wrinkles around your eyes."

Severus tilted his head. He huffed almost silently, the sound barely an exhale. "Have you spoken to your parents?"

"Dad feels like he's missed out on the important interrogation and shake down. Mum says it's not about her approval as much as it's that I'm truly happy with my choice. She says I have to live with the choice, not her and dad."

"Pragmatic," Severus said, a hint of a smile on his face.

"Dad says I've always been ahead of my peers," Hermione mused. "I noticed that I aged more than I should have the year I had the time turner. I think he's really just disappointed that he can't play the overprotective dad who gets to send some young guy packing, screaming in fear."

"I may be able to do that for you," Severus said with a snort.

Hermione swatted him on the arm. "You will not. Your reputation is scary enough."

"So you admit that I'm scary," Snape said, eyebrow raising.

"I admit that your reputation is scary enough," Hermione said. "You are under evaluation."

"Evaluation?" Severus eyed her suspiciously.

Hermione chuckled. "That's what people do, right? Get to know each other. Courtship is just evaluation to see if it will work for the long haul?"

Snape stared at his lap. "I feel I must apologise that you haven't has as much time to get to know me— as much as you've had with the beast."

Hermione shook her head. "You two are more alike than you think," she replied. "He just doesn't hide anything."

"You're saying I'm really a hulking, furry, fanged monster, and I should just accept my furrier self?"

Hermione slumped. "Don't put words in my mouth."

Severus shook his head. "Despite the Wizarding world supporting arranged marriages and magically bonded marriages regardless of age, I hope you will understand that we will not be able to— go public until after you have left Hogwarts, even if this bond results in a magical marriage bond."

"Look at the bright side," Hermione said. "I dodge the bullet on the marriage act."

Severus snorted. "Most useless piece of garbage out there. There could be side effects. Knowing Bellatrix— you could end up being furry and fanged too."

Hermione frowned and then shook her head. "At least I won't have to worry about a broom being yanked out from under me?"

Snape stared at his hands. "How can you be so accepting of a fate that was intended to be my eternal torment?"

"I've seen the beast, Severus," Hermione pointed out. "The true face. The only torment is what you associate with the beast and not what he actually is. Maybe it would have been different if Bellatrix had finished her binding spell, but even then— I do not think the beast she created was as inherently evil as she surely wanted it to be. She wanted you to think it was. And she succeeded."

Severus' head went up. "The sun is setting." The dungeon walls were cold and unchanged, but already the spread of fur was working across his skin. "I think the beast knows you are here, Hermione."

"Maybe he knows I didn't bring a sweater."

Snape shook his head. "You are— a really special young woman, you know that, right?"

"I could hear it a few more times to make my insecurity seem less."

"You, Miss Granger? Insecure?"

Her lips curved up slightly. "I have my moments," she admitted.

Severus gave a low growl, grimacing as his body twitched to both simultaneously transform and stay human at the same time.

Hermione touched his twisted hand-talons. "It's okay. I'm not afraid of you. I'm more afraid of losing a friend if I do something that offends you."

"I cannot promise to be the man most women dream of. I have no fortune to share nor a family to be proud of. I cannot promise we will not argue, that I will not get angry over trivial, stupid things and then end up regretting what I say— But I can promise that I will try very hard to give you the consideration your deserve."

Hermione wrapped her hand around his transforming talons. "Let go, Severus. Trust me to catch you."

Severus' face was haunted. "My best friend— couldn't."

"Maybe it's a good thing I'm not your best friend," Hermione said, warmth in her eyes rather than mockery.

Snape touched a talon to her cheek, brushing a tendril of her curls away from her face. "I do not deserve such kindness."

"You're wrong," Hermione said. "You deserve far more than you think."

"You have three days and nights with me to change your mind, if the curse's wording is literal," Severus warned her.

"Do I get bathroom breaks?" she enquired rather cheekily.

Snape rolled his eyes.

"I will stay until the bond is sealed," Hermione promised him.

The beast transformation consumed him with a rush of heat and wings. The beast stared at her with onyx eyes, crooning softly. He opened his wings to her invitingly. Hermione smiled, allowing his wings to curve protectively around her. As he drew her close, the rush of magic flowed across their skin and began the most delicate weave of magic.

---

Severus' awareness during the next few days was fleeting at best, but the longer they were together, he began to become increasingly aware even while the beast was full control. He watched her, nestled into the winged embrace of the beast, her honey-coloured curls intermixed with the pitch black fur of the beast— her small hands curved around the leathery curve of his wings.

She slept deeply, the magic swirling around them, weaving in and out as it burrowed into their skin. She snuggled tighter against him, her very touch causing a thrill of painful pleasure as he realised she had meant every single word when she'd said she trusted him. She truly didn't fear the beast— and the beast cared for her. He was pure and dutiful, protective and loyal. He was devoted— to her.

Ever so often Hermione would whimper in pain as a part of his shared magic hurt her as it had hurt him— Bellatrix's "gift" to him. Power— at a price of the beastly transformation. She whimpered, her hands half twisting into talons. Her teeth sharpening. Her hair became even more of a mane. But the beast would groom her tenderly, and she would sigh with relief, snuggling closer. The pain eased, and she pulled closer to him rather than pushing away. Then the change would ease, releasing her to her humanity once more. It would rise and fall, little by little, but she wasn't fighting the bond.

Even in the sleep, she sought his comfort, just as she had said she would.

He hadn't believed her.

How could he?

Lily couldn't even bear to touch him, and she had been his best childhood friend.

The beast groomed her, his tongue soothed her hair into order or into chaos depending on who was judging.

But what really stunned Severus was the smile on her face. Even in her sleep, even with the waves of magic-induced pain, she smiled as she snuggled into him. The bond was real. It was true.

Severus felt the beast's contentment flowing through him, and for the very first time, he let himself go with it, enjoying the intoxicating warmth between himself and the sleeping witch nestled close in his monstrous embrace.

---

"I know what you did, Severus," Albus said, facing his window, his back to him.

"Headmaster?"

"You charmed a young witch—a girl— to satisfy your curse."

"Headmaster, you of all people know that the conditions of my curse require a willing and mutual regard. I could never force such a thing," Snape replied.

"You do not deserve her, Severus. She is needed out there, protecting Harry from the Dark Lord. Keeping him on task. She cannot do that if she is entangled with you."

"Entangled? You must be joking. She of all people knows how important it is to keep Potter out of trouble. She's been doing it since she was eleven, trying to keep him safe from YOUR little tests and manipulations."

"You are out of line, Severus," Albus warned. "Sit. Down. Now."

Severus's body trembled as he tried to resist the compulsion, but he sat.

"Your fascination with that girl will not do, so I am ordering you, under the Vow you took to serve me, to sit right there until I am finished with you."

Albus paced. "The old traditions may condone such abhorrent bonds to one so very young—"

"She is seventeen, perhaps even more if you consider the time turning that you, yourself, sanctioned. She is an adult witch. You have no right to call a solidified magical bond something loathsome. If anything, I pushed her away."

"Then you should have pushed harder and made her go away! Albus yelled. "How can you stand in front of Tom when you have a marriage bond connecting you?"

"The same way I always do! If anything it will be easier now because the beast will not be constantly struggling to rise to the surface!" Snape reasoned.

"And that is the only positive in this. It will keep the beast under control as I do what needs to be done."

"What are you—"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Snape froze in place in the chair, but his eyes glowered at the Headmaster.

"You'll be happy to know I invited Miss Granger into my office earlier. And I placed a memory charm on her so she thinks she had a wonderful weekend at the Burrow. She'll even think that young Ronald is perfectly redeemable now." Dumbledore slammed the marriage writ scroll down on his desk, his blue eyes as cold and hard as chips of ice. "I'm making your unfortunate marriage disappear, Severus, because the greater good cannot afford your dalliance with a young witch who doesn't know enough to shun you as you deserve.

Severus' jaw tightened, his wand hand twitching spasmodically.

"It's bad enough that Minerva stumbled in and saw the bond taking place. She always did care far more for you than she should have," Albus said, scowling. "Well, that is taken care of too. Now, while you're safely human and vulnerable, I'm going to take care of you, Severus, so you can do the job you're meant for, and she can do the job she's been groomed to do."

Snape's eyes bored into Albus' with rage and pain twisting his face into a mask of agony.

"Obliviate."

Snape and the chair tumbled to the floor and Albus crumpled, trying to cling to the desk and sliding down onto his knees. Magic had backlashed the moment he had tried to obliterate the memories of Hermione Granger's compassion and sacrifice— her willing choice to bind herself to him and his beast to ease his curse.

A quick scan using his Legilimency told him that the spell was only placing a temporary block on Snape's memories— the bond between the two was already too strong. It was— a true magical bond.

Damn it all.

He crafted a Dark compulsion spell that had once been the favoured weave of Grindelwald and implanted it deep within Snape's subconscious to make him fear and desperately fight physical contact of any kind— especially the touch of one Hermione Granger. "I can't have you touching Hermione Granger and have you both remembering what happened between you, thus ruining all of my plans, Severus. Maybe after the war is over and done, she will find herself irresistibly drawn to young Ronald Weasley, an appropriate Gryffindor partner for her, which would certainly reinforce your feelings of disgust towards her. That will do all the work for me. You will continue to believe yourself to be unloved and an unforgivable monster, and she will be with someone, anyone, other than you. Let's face it, Severus. You were always trying to be the very best Slytherin possible, and that just made you into the perfect Death Eater. Sadly, you forgot the one thing any great Death Eater should know well: even being a Pureblood doesn't protect you from the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange."

Albus aimed his wand at his unconscious spy. "Time for you to go back to work, Severus."

---

The beast broke out of the ropes and roared, burning with a black, smoky energy that seemed to bleed out from the corners of his eyes. His powerful wings fanned outward, knocking Ron Weasley clear across the room, smashing him into the plants and bookshelf.

Venom dripped from his fangs as he snarled viciously. Rows of jagged teeth snapped into place, one row rising behind the others. Triple nostrils flared as the beast shook himself free of the ropes, his armoured tail whipping around with an audible snap.

Ron let out a panicked yell, casting spell after spell at the beast, but one by one, each spell pinged harmlessly off his wings. He shook the wand with a snarl, cursing at it. "Stupid wand. Do what I say!"

"Hrrrrrsssssss," the beast growled, wickedly sharp talons extending from gnarled fingers.

Ron looked this way and that, eyeing the door and then the open window. He pointed his wand at the containment cage's door. "Alohomora!" he cried as the cage door clicked and creaked open. Ron smiled victoriously, casting something up over his head and disappearing from sight.

"Sssssss," Neville-tacula hissed, tendrils and vines rustling threateningly.

The beast braced itself, placing itself firmly between the bound Hermione and the man-plant.

But Neville-tacula seemed to have other things on his mind, as the man-plant launched itself out of the cage and into thin air, landing on "nothing". That same nothing let out a shrill scream as the plant-beast tore into the hidden Ron, ripping the invisibility cloak to shreds as it chomp, chomp, chomped on its now-visible prey.

Ron's screams seemed to go on forever until he finally collapsed in a bloody heap on the floor, bleeding from a great many nasty tentacula bites. Neville-tentacula hissed, dragging Ron into the cage and stuffing him inside. He closed the door with a click and curled up on top of the cage, foliage rustling.

Ron began to scream again, but this time, his freckled body was convulsing and twisting where the moonlight had struck him. His skin was turning a strange, luminous orange-y hue as overly exposed veins popped out. His arms slowly elongated into twisting tendrils along with his feet as he threw himself at the back of the cage, not even realising which side was the front, hissing in a blind, mindless rage. His wounds closed, but the eerie transformation continued to consume him, turning the formerly-human Ronald Weasley into a very orange, extremely pissed off tentacula-creature.

Hermione sat up as Severus-beast crooned lowly, snapping her bindings with his claws. He nuzzled her, grooming her face worriedly. "I'm fine, love," Hermione assured him, gently stroking his velvety triple-nostrils. He whuffled her hands, giving her concerned onyx eyes.

Hermione touched the statue on the hearth and the glowed softly. "You know, when Harry warned me to be careful— that someone was stealing out of the Auror's storage room, that you'd been acting funny, that our best friend could be involved, that there was money missing that Harry couldn't account for, I didn't— couldn't— believe it. I couldn't understand why Neville, even transformed, was so violent lately, when all times before he had been quite docile and peaceful— but he knew you were here. He knew you were responsible for his condition, however indirectly."

Hermione very deliberately placed her wand on the top of the hearth next to the random statue of Typhon, the ancient giant son of Gaia, father of many, many monsters. She shrugged off her outer robes as her hands lightly stroked the back of Severus-beast. Venomous drool dripped from his mouth, but she tenderly soothed his nostrils with her hand. "You know, I'm tired of being used. I'm tired of being manipulated by wizened old wizards that think they know best for me. I'm tired of being told I'm worthless because of my blood. I'm tired of being told that my only option is to marry someone like you because no one else would sodding take me. Did you think I didn't know about you and Lavender? Hermione's eyes darkened, a strange vapour-like smoke trickling from the corners.

"I made my choice long ago on who to trust and who to care for, and magic bonded us in marriage. Yet, somehow, I was made to forget. I was made to believe no one could possibly care for me— that my lord husband and my mate despised me," Hermione said, her voice like the crackling of ice. "He, was compulsed to loathe the very thought of touching me to serve an end. I was compulsed to find you strangely attractive despite how horrible you treated me."

Hermione tugged at her collar, shrugging off her robes to expose a Muggle tank top. "I am sick of being used by those I should be able to trust. Are you still in there, Ronald Bilius Weasley?"

The plant-man-beast snarled at her in response.

"Oh, you are then. When you shift back when the sun rises, I will challenge you to a duel, Ronald. A duel of honour, if you can manage it. Bring whatever magic or rage that powers you. Defeat me, and you may have a chance of escaping, if Severus doesn't tear you to shreds. Lose and the Aurors will take you and trace every little thing you've nicked, tell Lavender exactly where all of those pricey and impressive gifts you've been giving—"

Hermione stopped, seemingly in thought. "Wait a minute. She's in on this. She has to be."

Ron-tacula threw himself bodily against the sides of the cage.

"That store she has in Knockturn Alley," Hermione said. "It isn't because it was all she could afford. She's hocking your goods and buying herself jewelry!"

Hermione frowned as Neville-tacula started to rustle in agitation. "You didn't visit Neville because you cared about his upcoming marriage and friendship. You used him to get an invite so you could access the Hogwarts grounds often enough that the gargoyles didn't think it abnormal for you to be there. You used Harry's invisibility cloak to lurk in the castle so you could overhear passwords. Were you nicking things from Hogwarts too?" Her face darkened as her fists tightened, knuckles whitened. "Madam Pince said that she's lost at least twenty-some rare tomes over the last year alone. The staff members all dismissed it as just random students forgetting to check things out or return them when they were finished using them. Hagrid was also saying he'd lost his stashes of various rare things, like unicorn and thestral hair, but we just took one look at his messy hut and post-war disorder and figured it was lost there— somewhere, but it wasn't was it? It was you. You knew where he kept his stuff from all those times we took tea in Hagrid's hut as students."

Ron threw himself against the cage.

Blam!

Blam!

CLANGGGG!

Neville-tacula was thrown off the top of the cage into the pile of debris from the earlier fight, and Ron threw himself at the weakened cell door that had not been sealed with magic after Neville had closed it on Ron due to his condition. Ron tumbled out of the cage with a hissing snarl, his blue human eyes blazing with pure hatred. He glowered spitefully at Hermione and then proceeded to attack. Snapping out his twisting, tendril-like arms like twin bullwhips, Ron-tacula threw himself at Hermione and Hermione alone, paying no heed whatsoever to anything else, his bulbous orange head opening to expose a gaping maw filled with large, thorn-shaped teeth, dripping and oozing with infectious venom.

Hermione went down under a mass of grasping, writhing orange vine-tendrils and a heavy humanoid plant body. Yet, when Ron's maw clacked only a breath away from her face, he seemed to pause as he suddenly noticed that her face looked neither fearful nor intimidated.

"Oh, Ronald," Hermione said serenely. "You can't turn me into a monster by force." Black oil seemed to fill her brown eyes, stealing away all colour and replacing it with inky pitch black that swallowed all of the light. Her hands clenched around his lower jaw as talons dug into Ron's plantlike maw of teeth. Her lips parted in a bestial smile, rows of jagged teeth erupted as a muzzle pushed out from her face, replacing what was human with something most definitely not. "I'm already a monster— by choice."

Wings erupted from her back as an armoured, whip-like tail slashed back and forth angrily. Her claws dug deep into the planty skin, sending rivulets of green blood trickling down the plant-monster's body. A plate-like scale pulled back from her tail, exposing a sharp, almost transparent barb, glistening with prismatic, colour-shifting venom. Her maw parted as her fangs sank deep into the plant's fibrous neck and her barb-tipped tail embedded into his posterior, driving it deep, deep, deep into his transformed flesh.

Ron's tendrils tried to twist around Hermione's neck and limbs, attempting to wrench off her limbs in a desperate attempt to save himself, but the looming black shadow behind her had had enough. Venom dripped from Severus' fangs as he buried them into one of thick "arm" tendrils and his tail buried itself into Ron's transformed, bulbous head.

Severus-beast roared, ripping out a chunk of plant fibre, and he cracked Ron's grip off of Hermione and flung him out of the half-open window with a spasm of his powerful arms. The moment Ron was out the window, Neville-tacula let himself back into the cage and closed the door with a click.

Severus crooned, nuzzling Hermione and grooming her fur with his tongue, his tail wrapping around hers in a comforting corkscrew as he enfolded the rest of her with his wings.

"Stupefy!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

"Subjicere silentium!"

"Defloresco!"

"Inalgesco!"

Luna peered in through the destroyed wall of the shack. "Oh hello, Hermione, Professor Snape. It seems we arrived just in time. We would have come earlier after you touched the statue, but I figured we might need a few extra wands."

Luna stepped into the remains of the virtually-destroyed room and pulled out a thermos, pouring water into a enlarged bowl. "Thirsty, Neville? I'd imagine all this excitement has you quite parched. Just water and some vitamins that daddy taught me how to make. It's fruit punch flavoured."

She flopped down next to the cage without a care, handing Neville-tacula the bowl.

Neville-tacula lowered his "face" into the bowl and made the liquid disappear gratefully. A few of his tendrils reached out to touch Luna almost reverently, and she patted them gently. "There, there, I'm not mad at you for leaving. You were probably stung by a billywig and got the stinger stuck in your ear canal. It makes people do hurtful things and then throw themselves heedlessly into odd relationships that don't really work for them."

Neville's tendrils drooped slightly, but she pet them tenderly. "It's okay. Professor Snape and Hermione will help fix you up— as soon as they have hands again."

Neville-tacula shimmied closer to Luna, his tendrils wrapping around her very carefully. Luna leaned into his rather leafy embrace. "I wonder if you can keep a few of those tendrils. They could be mighty useful in… certain situations."

Neville's foliage turned bright red in sort of planty blush.

Harry stumbled into the remains of the room, skidding to a halt as he took in the sight of Luna in a plant-hug and two gargantuan beasts engaged in a grooming session. His eyebrows shot up high into his mop of hair and disappeared. "Hermione?!"

A beast head poked up out of the folds of the larger beast's black wings, both ears perked forward. Her maw opened in a strange grin, tongue lolling across rows of sharp, jagged teeth.

"Don't mind them, Harry," Luna said calmly. "They're married, after all."

"WHAT?" Harry blurted.

Luna yawned, snuggling closer into Neville-tacula. "I'm sure the others are trying to figure out how to transport Ronald back to an appropriate containment facility, so you might as well get comfortable until Hermione and Professor Snape feel comfortable enough to shift back."

"How do you— how can you just— aren't you afraid of—?" Harry tried and failed to come up with a complete sentence.

Luna shrugged. "Lovegoods have always had various interesting quirks. Mother apparently had this talent that made things turn inside-out whenever she got angry, but one thing we all seem to have is that we're immune to memory charms and Legilimency, either that or no can seem to figure out what's going on in our minds to have any idea how to erase it. Either way— I've known they were married for years, but Headmaster Dumbledore went through a lot of trouble to make sure they both forgot about each other, so I didn't want to say anything until the Headmaster was safely out of the picture. I'll admit I waited a bit too long because I had really expected Headmaster Dumbledore to rise from the grave as a half-zombie, but that didn't actually happen. Daddy wins that bet, I fear."

Harry sat down on the remains of the couch. "I see." He waited a moment. "It doesn't bother you at all that you're cuddling up to a possibly deadly or contagious plant-monster?"

"Don't be silly, Harry. Neville is only mindless when he's exposed to the person who turned him. That would be— Ronald, I think."

Harry stared at his hands. "And you know that's Hermione and Professor Snape?"

Luna gave him the eye. "Come now, Harry. Who else could it be?"

Fwoop!

Hermione appeared, half-dressed in one of the monster's places. She squeaked in mortification, diving into the beast's winged embrace as one hand felt around the floor for her clothes.

"See?" Luna said, completely unshaken. She pointed her wand over to Hermione's discarded clothes under the rubble and guided them over to her seeking hands.

The sound of someone hastily dressing behind the beast's large wings were heard and then Hermione poked her head up over the top of them. "Hi, Harry," she squeaked, giving him a rather sheepish smile. The beast pegged her hair with his tongue, grooming her gently.

"Care to help a bloke out here with an explanation?" Harry mumbled, blushing.

"It's a really long story, Harry, and I've only just remembered much of it myself," Hermione said with a sigh. "Let's clean this place up and get Neville here sorted, and then I can try and explain the parts I do know."

Harry sighed. "There's more to this than my best mate being guilty of stealing from both the Auror Department and Hogwarts using my dad's invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map?"

Hermione frowned. "Unfortunately."

Harry squared his shoulders resolutely. "Alright then. Let's clean this place up."

---

After Neville stared down at his now-human hands for a moment, he practically tackled Luna in an ardent embrace. "Thank Merlin!"

The sun began to rise shortly after Neville had returned to his human self, and he boggled as Luna seemed almost saddened by his return to humanity. He cured it by giving her a long, passionate kiss before begging her to forgive his behaviour.

Neville even mustered enough courage to humbly thank Severus for his help in the cure. The dour-faced potions master curled his lip at him, but nodded silently in affirmation.

Minerva had arrived in the aftermath just in time to see Neville cured, and she wearily plunked down the Writ of Marriage and offered the two Ministry-bestowed wedding rings to Severus and Hermione. "I found this under a loose slat in the floor," she sighed. "The portraits told me where it was once the spell on me was broken and I knew what to ask them. I'm so sorry, laddie. I should have been able to help you."

Severus shook his head. "We were all— used, Minerva. At least I now know why the cursed ring took him so quickly. All that energy he was using to suppress our bond left him very little magic with which to protect himself. It's no wonder he didn't like leaving Hogwarts, what with the risk that others might discover what he'd done, and it also explains why he had so little reserves left to stave off the Dark curse you found him victim of."

Minerva frowned, nodding. "I just wish I'd known sooner that he'd already sent Harry on his fool's quest alone save for two friends, like something out of a Tolkien story. Impossible odds."

"We wouldn't have ever made it without Hermione," Harry admitted. "And Professor Snape too. He's the one who put the Sword of Gryffindor in the lake for us to find. His Patronus lead us right to it. I can't even count how many times Hermione saved us. The tent. That beaded bag of hers. Her supplies— her careful planning. She warded our campsite when she was dead on her feet. She protected us even while being tortured by Bellatrix— and I still paid more attention to Dobby than her." Harry turned away, ashamed of his past behavior.

"Married," Harry said, boggling. "All those times when you seemed so infatuated with Ron, I thought it was really strange because of all the times he was so mean to you. I had no idea were under a spell. I mean you were Hermione Granger. I couldn't imagine anyone ever getting the drop on you— and I would never have suspected Dumbledore. I did… everything because I trusted him implicitly."

"I'm hardly perfect, Harry," Hermione chuckled, leaning automatically back into Severus and snuggling into his side. Harry flinched, but seemed to realise that all he had come to know as fact was now in question more than ever before.

"You make a perfectly scary monster, Hermione," Harry said. "I wasn't sure who to be more intimidated by, you or Professor Snape."

Severus snorted, rolling his eyes expressively.

"Any idea why Ron isn't changing back?" Harry asked, frowning.

Severus frowned. "Bella's curse on me created a beast that was made to have all the abilities she wished to use to torment others. She gave it a body that people would instinctively fear, but she also gave it weapons that could take out her foes— or extend their suffering. My best guess is that whatever venom cocktail was created within the beast, it mixed badly with the magic that initially transformed him into something similar to Mr Longbottom."

Harry closed his eyes. "I don't quite understand how the end to the curse somehow meant Hermione being transformed too."

"I'm not unhappy, Harry," Hermione assured him. Then her hand grasped Severus'. "Besides, the phrasing of the conditions 'Love's mutual touch shall bring peace to the beast, and only then shall your pain decrease'. And then she added the three nights within mutual love's embrace, then and only then the curse erase. But, knowing Bellatrix, she would think that the easing of the pain was the only thing worth erasing— the only goal anyone would want. In her mind, the power of the beast would never be unwelcome. That— and I have a feeling she wanted to bind Severus to her service, willing or not— preferably not, and she wanted to make sure that even if he found a "cure" to his mental torment, he would still be 'useful' to her."

Harry shook his head violently. "That's one messed up witch!"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "I believe you are quite correct in that theory, Hermione. In her mind, losing the power of the beast was not an option. She wanted to bind me one way or another, but she never expected Lucius to stop her— and she never expected me to find compassion outside of Lily. Even I, at the time, would never have thought it possible."

Harry abruptly seemed to realise something. "My mum— refused to help you?"

Severus' expression seemed torn between disgust and pity for Harry. "To be fair, it would not have worked, as Hermione was the one the beast chose, but your mother did not, as you say, put in any effort to prove otherwise."

"Remus once told me not to think that my father, him, Sirius, or any of their friends from the past were perfect. They all had sins that they should have been ashamed of, but not all of them did. He died before he could tell me all of it. He said it could wait until after the war." Harry frowned.

"You once told me my father was a swine, Professor. I didn't believe you until I saw for myself what he did on the day when I sneaked a peek into the Pensieve. I know you were furious at me, but—" Harry trailed off. "I'm glad I know the truth. Part of it, anyway."

Hermione bumped her head into Severus' side. He fidgeted and then sighed. "I fear that any memories from me, Mr Potter, will be tainted with his hatred for me. You should know that even watching memories of mine will only give you one half of the story. I was not acquainted with any of his more redeeming qualities, as I never saw them. That does not— mean he did not have them. He died to protect you as a baby. You and his wife, and a wizard willing to put their life down for another holds the other in great esteem, whether a husband to his wife and son or a fanatic to the Dark Lord. Such a bond is strong, which is why those such as the Dark Lord nurtured such extreme fanaticism. What your father and mother had for you was not something charmed or seduced, manipulated or paid off. It was true, and that is something that you should hold in your heart even as you regret the knowledge that he was not as perfect as you may have previously believed him to be."

Harry looked his old professor in the eyes, great emotion swimming through his emerald gaze. "Thank you, Professor. I hope—perhaps we could start again, sir? If Hermione was willing to do what she did, then I would rather know the man she could do such things for rather than the one I thought I knew during school."

Severus let out a breath slowly. "That would be acceptable, Mr Potter."

There was a loud thump as Neville and Luna disappeared behind the other couch, making distinctive snogging noises.

Harry flushed deeply, Severus rolled his eyes, and Hermione snickered into Severus' robes.

"I guess the marriage is off," Harry chuckled after a moment.

"Or still on," Hermione mused. "To the correct witch."

"Oooo! You did keep a few!" Luna's voice cooed. "Excellent!"

Severus, Harry, Minerva, and Hermione quickly tiptoed out of the shack, leaving the two new lovers to enjoy one other's company.

---

Rita Skeeter Releases New Book after Longest Trial on Record

Rita Skeeter's latest book, Dumbledore Was Worse Than I Thought, was released today, one month after the three-month-long trial of Ronald Bilius Weasley, Lavender Brown, and Ginevra Molly Weasley.

Ronald Bilius Weasley was found guilty of stealing from his best mate, Harry Potter, and using Mr Potter's cherished family heirlooms to steal from the Auror's evidence lockup and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His two accomplices, Lavender Brown (who used her business The Busy Bunting to hock stolen items into the underground market) and his sister Ginevra Weasley, who would use her charmed purse to smuggle out whatever her brother gave her when she visited him at the Auror's office.

War hero, Harry Potter, had the misfortune of having to inform the Weasley family of their youngest son's arrest, causing Molly Weasley to have an emotional breakdown and proceed to throw turnips and cast iron cookware at Auror Potter until he left the grounds of the Burrow, their family home in Ottery St Catchpole.

Interviews with the elder Weasley brothers about their youngest brother, Ronald, was met with a chorus of shaken heads and sour faces.

"It doesn't surprise me at all," Percy Weasley said rather sadly. "He's always wanted to be well off, but he never failed to choose the easiest way to go about it. He said we should have been born wealthy like most other pureblood families and that being an Auror didn't earn him enough money."

William Weasley was recorded during the trial detailing some of the items that had mysteriously turned up missing while he had been transferring them from the tomb to the goblins on a job. "They were never big or flashy items, but one gem of many or a single coin in a pile. They were always easy enough to dismiss as a simple mathematical error— but now I realise that every time something went missing, my baby bro had been visiting the site."

"Before my brother Fred died, he told me there was something he needed to tell me, but it could wait until after the battle as none of it would matter if we were all dead," George Weasley said. "After he died, I forgot all about it, but when Ronald was arrested, I dug through Fred's old things. He had a log of several different things that had disappeared over the years from our place of business, from the product storeroom and from our experimental lab."

The trial was delayed on a number of occasions due to the mental breakdown of family matriarch Molly Weasley to where she would not settle until she had a visit from her daughter Ginevra who had to be taken out of holding and escorted to St Mungo's under Auror guard.

The next delay in the case came soon after Ronald Weasley's arrest when Lavender Brown, believing him to be held against his will without justification, decided to do something rather drastic. She had apparently broken into his holding cell and was attacked and infected by what remained of Ronald Weasley after he was attacked by a were-tentacula during a full moon and then exposed to a second venomous agent that reacted quite violently when combined with the former and caused Weasley's strange transformation to become permanent.

Now, both Mr Weasley and Ms Brown are in a very special holding cell awaiting the Wisengamot's decision. The case will continue without the pair's input as it seems that all sentience trickled away the moment the pair engaged in creating baby tentaculas. No further activity has been reported.

Charges against Mr Weasley, gathered from memories of both the victims and from the mind of the Ronald-tentacula, include: theft, trespass, possession of an illegal potion with intent to use, tampering with a potion with malicious intent, unwilling transfiguration of a human into a plant-human hybrid during a lunar cycle, intent to drug and influence an unwilling target into marriage in order to access monetary savings, illegal trafficking of Dark objects and artefacts, conspiracy, collusion, and multiple violation of the Auror's oath.

Charges against Lavender Brown include: illegal trafficking of Dark objects and artefacts, conspiracy, use of an illegal potion with malicious intent, and collusion.

Charges against Ginevra Weasley include: illegal trafficking of Dark objects and artefacts, transportation of stolen items from the DMLE offices, conspiracy, and collusion.

Mr Weasley and Ms Brown, immediately upon their sentencing, were transported to Azkaban island to live out their lives with their extensive collection of progeny as another means of discouraging potential escapees.

Ginevra Weasley is currently serving out her 10 year sentence working in the kitchens of Azkaban prison.

There are reports that Harry Potter has nullified his marriage to Ginevra Weasley, washing his hands of her and the loathsome activities that have brought much shame to both himself and the rest of the Weasley family. Some rumours claim that Mr Potter recently discovered that his personal vault was devoid of every single coin and that Ginevra stole his family heirlooms to allow her brother to commit his thefts entirely undetected.

The next rather unconventional Wizengamot trial was posthumously judged on the once Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore for both collusion, conspiracy, first attempting to break and then tampering with an official marriage bond recognised by magic, multiple counts of Obliviation without Ministry authorisation, wilful memory tampering, magically influencing a married witch to be attracted to another wizard, the collection and use of Dark artefacts, and the virtual enslavement of another wizard by illegal usage of the Unbreakable Vow. As the wizard in question has already passed on, no conventional sentencing was deemed appropriate in this case. His remaining estates and vaults, which have been frozen ever since the time of his death due to the recent war, has been split between his multiple surviving victims.

---

Super Secure Guarded Vaults Opening Soon at Gringott's

Gringott's is constructing subterranean vaults even lower than the extravagantly guarded vaults in what had been the lowest levels of Gringott's. Rumour has it that they have been in a bidding war to acquire live-in guards who will have living quarters on the very floor they will guard, providing the type of security that goes above and beyond the traditional dragon-guarded vaults.

Who they were bidding on and how they will be guarding the vaults is unknown to those outside the Goblin Nation. It is rumoured, however, that once these vaults are available, anyone who attempts to break into Gringott's would be very foolish indeed.

---

Hermione woke to the rush of the ocean surf and the soft, gentle breeze of salty air. An arm curled around her waist, and she felt the warm breath of her beast on her neck—only it wasn't just the beast. It was Severus, her mate, her Lord Husband.

Severus growled softly, pressing his face into her curls with a low rumble that resonated through her body. She yawned sleepily, snuggling into his warmth and enjoying his touch and the pleasure of knowing she did not have to hide herself away before he woke anymore. She didn't have to run from him or her hidden attraction and desire for his touch or her need for it. She didn't have to feel shame for her attraction to a person who seemingly didn't care.

It all made sense now— how no one ever seemed to fill the hole inside herself or how she so desperately wanted more than just a relationship of colleagues between them. Some part of her had known, even through Obliviates, that he was the only one that would satisfy the emptiness inside herself.

And the beast had always known what he needed— perhaps even what she needed— all along. He had always protected her even with the man could not, by no fault of his own. As she thought on the events that had led to where she was, she pondered is Darkness had curled itself around the Weasley family through the finding of Tom Riddle's journal. Had it grown inside Ginny's heart and mind like a foul corruption? Had the Horcrux locket woven so insidiously into Ronald's psyche that he became so unlike anything either Harry or she could wrap their minds around it?

What of Lavender? Was she corrupted by Greyback's taint? Or was she so very needy for shiny and expensive trinkets that hocking dangerous Dark artefacts seemed perfectly okay to her?

The answer, she realised, was right beside her. The beast was crafted with the Darkest of magic, yet the creature that was birthed by Bellatrix's ill intent had never been mindlessly violent— tortured, perhaps, and alone, but never the instrument of pure evil that Bellatrix had desired. Hermione, too, had worn the locket— as had Harry— and they weren't trying to make a living stealing from the Aurors evidence lockup.

Yet—

"They made their choices," Severus' voice rumbled, his voice rippling down her spine like a caress.

Hermione rolled over, looking into his face. "You know, when I was a kid, they used to say you could read minds. What would they say if they knew you actually could?"

He rumbled, his palm brushing against her cheek as he looked her in the face. "I may have an unfair advantage when the subject is you."

Her lips quirked upward as she thought something very strongly.

Severus' eyebrows shot into his hair. "Oh, really?"

"Mmmm," Hermione replied.

His face neared hers, his nostrils flaring as he gently ran the tip of his nose across her cheek.

It was Hermione's turn to growl, and she pounced him, her lips meeting his as she braced her arms around him as she tumbled him to his back. When she parted from him, breathlessly, he looked at her with such wide, surprised and haunted eyes that she tilted her head at him. "Did I—" she said, frowning.

He shook his head. "You may cage me with a kiss anytime you wish— well, preferably not in front of Neville and Luna. I have no doubt Luna would take it as a personal challenge to discover just how many shades of red we can both turn."

Hermione snorted, shoulders quaking in mirth. "You thought I was need of professional counselling when I said I was willing to give us a chance. You hadn't even considered Luna, had you?

Severus brushed the back of her hand with his fingers. "I believe, even before we were married, as it were, my beast only had eyes only for you."

"Well, I'm glad of that," Hermione admitted. "I don't imagine I'd have done well having to fight over you against a hundred other witches."

Severus snorted. "Like that will ever happen."

Hermione hrrrrrred. "I might be jealous."

Severus leveled a look at her as he rubbed the space behind her ears just so, causing her eyes to roll back into her head. "You have nothing to be jealous of. I, however, will be sharpening my claws and urinating in the corners of our domain to deter your endless stream of would-be suitors."

Hermione laughed silently, shoulders quaking. "How very primeval."

He grunted in response.

"There is only one beast for me, love," she whispered against his skin, her pheromones wafting across his nostrils on a direct stomping path to his brain.

His pupils swallowed his irises as a rumbling growl formed in his throat. "My wife, we shall never leave our marriage bed at this rate."

"Oh—" Hermione replied, lips forming into a pout. "Darn." Her sneaky tail spiraled around his leg and rubbed against his skin very suggestively. "I was just getting the hang of having extra appendages. Whoever shall I practice on?"

"You had better not be practicing on anyone but me!" Severus growled, hair rising in instinctive response.

Hermione's eyes sparkled victoriously, and Severus realised he had fallen right where she'd led him, hook, line, and sinker.

"Minx," he muttered.

"She-beast," Hermione corrected.

"Mine," he rumbled, eyes narrowing.

"Mmmm, maybe." Her eerily long tongue flicked over her sharpening teeth.

Severus moved in a flash of movement, his arms caging her with her back against the slightly abused bed. His wings unfolded from his back as his face twisted into a muzzle filled with sharp teeth. His hair writhed into a living mane of thick fur. Ever so slowly, his tongue extended and deliberately ran across her cheek.

Hermione's eyes went dark as she purred loudly in invitation. She lapped at the bottom of his chin just before her wings burst from her back and she wriggled free of him and escaped out the door, crowing as she took flight into the barely dusk sky.

Severus' head jerked up and he stared at where his mate had made her timely and sneaky escape. His ears flattened against his head as he launched himself into the air, giving chase to his mate across the cool evening sky.

---

"How is Molly doing, Arthur?" Severus asked as Arthur helped hun shelve the rather extensive book collection into its new home deep in the bowels of Gringott's.

Bill shook his head as his father silently continued to shelve. "Denial is a powerful thing," he said grimly. "She's not improved since Ginny hasn't been able to visit. None of us are sure why she focuses so much on Ginny. She has more than one kid."

"We were all brought by the stork," George said, elbowing him. "We're not her real kids."

"I have seven heads of red hair that prove otherwise," Bill retorted.

George grinned. "This is quite an impressive place they made for you."

Hermione looked around as if seeing it for the first time. "It's amazing. I never imagined there could ever be something so beautiful this deep within the earth." Sun trickled in from outside, beams stretching in from carefully constructed reflectors coming from the outside. The goblins were so considerate— even after what we did during the hunt for the Horcruxes."

"Well, I doubt they blamed you entirely for that, Hermione. It was a war, and you and Harry did pay for reconstruction," Percy said, hanging a portrait on the wall, peering at it, then re-adjusting it so it was straight.

The painted Crookshanks and tabby Minerva mrowled against the canvas, batting at Percy's nose. Meanwhile, the real Crooks and tabby Minerva looked up at the portrait as if evaluating its realism.

"Mrowl." Crookshanks swished his tail.

"Mrrrt," Minerva replied.

"Hey, Hermione, where do you want this picture of your parents?" Harry poked his head around the door frame, his hands hoisting part of a framed picture.

"Oi! Harry— come on now!" Charlie chided. "My dragons have better picture hanging skills than you!"

"You take that back, you scaly git!" Harry laughed.

"Just hang it there in the nursery," Hermione said with an amused grin. "They can watch over our future spawnlets, but I refuse to allow them to stare at me in my own bedroom."

Harry laughed, disappearing down the hall. "Come on, Charlie, let's set up the Grangers all proper. Don't want them passing out somewhere because their portraits saw Hermione getting it on with Snape."

"Harry James Potter!" Hermione yelled. "Don't make me chomp your neck and inject something horrible into your arse!"

Harry's giggling was her only reply as he ducked into the future nursury.

Hermione glowered until George patted Hermione on the back with a grin. His smile was bright and wide, something he hadn't been able to do much of since the end of the war.

"Hey, little sis. You won't hold little git bro and little bint sis against us, I hope. We'd always wondered what it was that you saw in Ickle Ronniekins, but I'm a bit relieved it wasn't really you who felt so passionate about him."

Hermione looked down at her toes. "I never suspected that Ron would use the cloak to steal from Aurors— Aurors and Hogwarts. We didn't really get along, yeah— he was always better friends with Harry than he ever was with me, but Ginny—" Hermione shook her head. "I had no idea. I'd make a terrible spy."

"Good thing I was the spy then," Severus rumbled, leaning in to give his wife a kiss.

Hermione flushed as just the touch of his lips send her mind spiraling and her thoughts derailing completely.

"Oooo, ex-Granger, look at you," George said, eyebrows wiggling.

Hermione growled at George, her eyes leaking black mist.

George waved his hands in appeal. "Not that there is anything bad about it!"

"Be careful when you tease the beast," Fleur chided as she placed a planter filled with begonias on the shelf. "Unless you have your own beast to answer the challenge." Her eyes rimmed with fire for a few seconds, and she winked at Hermione.

Hermione smiled at Fleur and they shared a knowing touch, fingers brushing against the others.

Arthur turned around, straightening his shoulders. "Hermione, I know the last thing Molly said to you was— not her finest moment, but do you blame her—"

"No, Arthur," Hermione said immediately. "Molly took care of all of us. We were all her children, I think. And, my mum told me once that parents take the triumphs of their children personally because they also take their failures personally. A parent can't help but think it must've been something they did that caused it— they raise their children. But I don't blame her for Ronald's bad choices. They were his. I don't blame her for Ginny's choices either."

Hermione frowned. "And I can't really blame her for calling me a monster. But I am not ungrateful. I wasn't leading Ron on in any way, shape or form. I believe I was quite clear on that. But I was also not the only one who got the epic tongue lashing of the year. As long as the right people know that I was NOT a loose, heartless, seducing slag, then I can only hope that Molly recovers enough to eventually accept that Ron made his choices of his own free will. Lavender may have suggested it, but he agreed to do it. He's the one who suggested it to Ginny, and Ginny also agreed to take part. No one put a wand to their necks and forced them to do what they did. And it was Ron who knew exactly where Hagrid kept his unicorn hair and other valuables. But—"

Hermione slumped, and Severus rumbled softly, wrapping her in his arms. "I am disappointed, Arthur. I won't lie about that. I am sad that she felt I did those things— that she could even think I did."

Hermione's expression hardened. "I don't think I will ever be able to trust her again, Arthur. Even if she's recovered because more than once she's proven she doesn't believe in me. She'll believe anyone but me— like Rita Skeeter. Worse still, she accused Severus of unspeakable things he had never done, least of all to me, and for that alone forgiveness will be a long road. But mistrust is not the same as blame. I will not trust her, but I do not blame her."

Arthur slumped. "I suppose that is fair."

"Come on, dad," George said, patting him on the back. "Old Dumbledore had her convinced because she so desperately wanted it to be true. Ginny with Harry. Ron with Hermione. Both her youngest marrying wealthy and all her dreams just falling into place. She didn't want her kids to ever have to struggle like she did. She's always dreamed of that for us. Look at the grief she gave Fred and I over the business, worrying that we'd never make it. She was so convinced everything was finally working out just right. Though— I'm not sure we'll ever be right." George wiggled his eyebrows at his father, causing Arthur to laugh.

Arthur squared his shoulders and let out a sigh. "Well, no use wool-gathering when there is unpacking to be done. Who knew Dumbledore had such an extensive library tucked away in that old house?"

"He had quite a few years to collect," Percy commented, closing one of the glass doors on the cabinet he'd been examining. "I think even Aberforth had no idea of how much stuff his brother had been hoarding away over the years. Then again… maybe he did considering all the stuff Aberforth took with him when he sold off Hog's Head and moved to— what was the place?"

"Aruba," Severus said. "Tropical place with no goats. Sadly, I think he's now visited by llamas."

Percy winced. "Well, hopefully he got that compulsion taken care of before he left. At least we never had to worry that Fred and George would take their humour into obsessions with random livestock."

A collective shudder went through the room.

George sniffed. "Did Neville and Luna ever finish moving into the old Dumbledore place? I heard Aberforth was all about selling it quickly and getting on with his life."

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, Luna and Xenophilius are taking charge of all the decorating and renovations— so you can imagine Neville is banished to working on his greenhouses until it's all finished."

"Somehow I don't think he's complaining," George said. "Neville was always good about plants, except for that time the mandrake made him faint."

"We all start somewhere, I suppose," Percy said.

"You did a little fainting yourself," George ribbed.

"Ffft," Percy replied. "Not about mandrakes."

"I seem to recall—" George started.

"Falling into a bloody tiger pit you two idiots dug in the orchard does not even rate a comparison!"

Hermione and Severus' eyebrows lifted quickly into their hair.

Percy seemed to realise he just exposed himself to more questions and quickly grabbed a box of things and fled the room. "I'm going to put this stuff away."

Hermione and Severus eyed George suspiciously.

Severus glowered down at George. "If you ever teach any of my future spawn to dig tiger pits anywhere, you will find yourself in the jungle beset by tigers until it stops being funny."

George waved his hands. "I swear I shall never do anything to encourage such things to your future children."

Bill conked his brother soundly over the head. "That had better apply to my children as well, Georgie."

George slumped. "Yes, brother."

Arthur clapped his hands. "Well, let's get all this stuff moved in. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm really looking forward to those sour cherry tarts that the goblins are making for tea."

"That's our dad," Bill chuckled wiggling his eyebrows.

---

Crookshanks let out large yawn as he placed his paw on Lucius' hand every time he tried to ring the bell. The blond wizard eyed the half-Kneazle suspiciously.

"I do have an appointment."

"Mrowl," Crooks replied, spreading himself over the ledge in the door that looks suspiciously like it was crafted just for lounging felines.

Reach.

Paw bat.

Reach.

Paw bat.

Lucius sighed.

"We're in the back garden," Severus said as he carried in a very large basket piled high with fresh seafood. "You can come around the gate here if you wish to avoid the war of feline attrition with Crookshanks."

Lucius' mouth twitched but he walked around the garden path to the back, opening the gate for his wife and son. Each of them carried their own hefty hamper covered with colourful paisley fabric.

A small gathering of goblins were busy setting the tables as large bat-like creatures flitted about adjusting the table settings to be just right.

"Sit, sit!" one of them squeaked. "Dinner almost ready!"

The Malfoys found their seats at their assigned table. Goblins filed in and seated themselves around the tables as food began to appear on ornate serving platters and bowls , thanks to the helpful creatures.

An elder goblin, distinctive by his crinkled nose and slightly more jagged teeth and a few notches in his ear, stood on the podium that had been erected toward the front of the garden.

"Friends, family, comrades— welcome," the elder goblin said. "Today we celebrate not only the opening of the fifth sub-level of Gringott's but also the opening of a very special series of vaults and our relationship with our newest friend-allies, the Snape family. It is with great joy that we have been told that they are more than a little happy with their new home and are more than willing to guard a series of vaults that will provide not only security for our clients but also security for our next generation as well."

The goblin raised a glass of shimmering drink. "May we always support each other in the covenant that it may never be broken."

"Hu-hai!" the goblins cheered raising their glasses.

"Here, here," the humans and not-quite-as-human-as-they-were-born answered.

"There is plenty to eat and drink. Enjoy and be merry, for in honour of this celebration, Gringott's shall enjoy a holiday tomorrow."

"Hu-hai!" the goblins cheered even more loudly, celebrating not only the alliance but the all too rare random holiday.

Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco uncovered their baskets, exposing rare wines, cheeses, oysters, seafood, and the coveted Kobe beef, enlarging the shrunken serving platters that had been carefully placed in stasis. The goblins muttered in approval, nodding their heads and baring their teeth in respect for the consideration.

Crookshanks had his own platter at the almost-head of the table, piled high with succulent slices of fresh salmon and tuna. The half-Kneazle looked appropriately smug, his tail curled slightly in feline approval.

Lucius raised a glass to Severus. "To many more long years, old friend," he said.

Severus' lips tugged into an almost smile. "To true friends," he replied, giving his old friend a knowing look.

Narcissa slowly raised her glass, silent,but nodding in affirmation, respecting the bond between the two wizards. If her feelings were shared with her husbands, her expression was not telling,

Severus' hand wrapped around Hermione's, squeezing as his wife's senses seemed to pick up on old feelings that had a hard time leaving, despite all that had happened.

Suddenly, Draco raised his glass, his other hand rubbing the space where his Dark Mark had once sat both on and under his skin.

"To second chances born in great adversity," Draco said, his shoulders squaring resolutely as he lifted his head. "May the years ahead stand on the firm foundation of what we have learned— however humbling those lessons might've been."

Lucius eyed Crookshanks, who had appeared silently and undetected only to sprawl over the box Lucius had brought with him. "Ahem."

"Mrrrowl," Crooks said, stretching out impossibly long over the box.

"Crooks, don't be such a pest," Hermione chided the half-Kneazle.

The orange feline yawned, exposing all of his teeth with a dramatic lion-like flair.

"Well, I would give you both your house-warming present," Lucius said, "but it seems a certain feline has other plans."

"Crooks," Hermione said, scooping up the sprawling cat. "Leave Lord Malfoy alone, you silly thing." Hermione shook her head as Crooks purred louder, snuggling into her and somehow making himself weigh twelve stones in dramatic flare. She sat down in her chair again, setting him in her lap, which seemed to be his idea all along.

Lucius sighed and nudged the box closer to Severus and Hermione. "A gift for your new home. It is— traditional."

Severus' eyebrows shot into his hair. He looked at Hermione and she gestured for him to go ahead, but it was obvious her curiosity was bristling. He touched her hand, rubbing the skin on the back of it with his thumb before proceeding to go for the box. He hesitated. "We could wait if—"

Hermione hissed. "Don't you dare!"

His eyes sparkled with amusement. He tugged the bow off the box and lifted the lid, peering inside. Hermione fidgeted with barely contained curiosity. Severus slowly lifted the object out of the box— keeping it folded to pester his mate all the more.

"Ragggh!" Hermione complained. "You're doing this on purpose!"

Severus gave her the eye, crooning deeply. "That's for leading me on a merry chase all morning!"

"You weren't complaining!" Hermione protested.

"Hrrr," he replied.

"Ahem!" Lucius interjected.

Severus eyed Lucius, his lips twitching. He pulled the object out of the box and unfolded it, and it spread out and expanded by magic into a huge wall tapestry. Swirling browns and blacks extended decoratively from a tree with Severus and Hermione in the middle. Out from the ovals that portrayed them, two branches extended outward into darkened portraits, hazy and unfinished.

Hermione's eyes grew wide. She touched her abdomen and gave Severus a look. He tenderly placed his hand over her belly and a serene look crossed his face. Hermione leaned into him, closing her eyes, but a warm smile stretched from one side of her face to the other.

Severus pressed his face into his mate's curls, but his eyes went to the Malfoys who had given them such an impressive gift. "The artisans that are capable of weaving such Old Magick are not great in number," he said. "Thank you."

One side of Lucius' mouth twitched. "There are still older masters out there," he said. "I think they are glad to have a true commission, fearing that their art will die out with them."

Severus tilted his head. "Perhaps, Draco, you might have a calling in learning such magic. You'd fill a very specific niche and people would begin to think more positively of the Malfoy name."

Draco perked. "Severus, you're a genius!"

Severus arched a brow. "I'm Slytherin."

"And brilliant," Hermione said, purring.

"Hrr," Severus answered.

Lucius nodded. "That is a very good idea, old friend. Draco has been mulling over what to do with his life since our family name has not been looked upon with favour in quite some time. As I recall, Master Candlebury was especially worried that had no apprentices."

Draco, who had looked fairly dour-faced since his arrival, began to look much more enthused.

Hermione looked towards Draco with a warm look. "I heard you were working to improve conditions at the orphanages and create a better screening process to search for magical children who are being treated like demonic possession cases or freaks."

Draco nodded. "Penance, Gran— Hermione," he said, a haunted look in his grey eyes. "Sometimes you have to almost lose everything to realise just how much you have and how little others have because of people like you."

Hermione nodded. "I am— glad you didn't lose everything, Draco. I did something truly unforgiveable to my parents, and somehow, they forgave me, even when I couldn't forgive myself." Hermione looked away for a moment. "Sometimes love makes you do— really questionable things. It's enough to make you wonder if I was a true monster all along."

"No," Lucius said, his blond hair falling across his face. "I've seen a true monster, Lady Snape. And you, even with claws and fangs, even after what you did in the war, all of pales to the face of a real monster. And the real ones often come looking like salvation wrapped in the finery of smooth words and honey-venom. You are not a monster. You and Severus— you are both survivors, protectors of those who do not respect you or expect you. It makes you dangerous. Lethal, but not a monster. I enslaved myself to a monster that had no body—pureblood supremacy—for years longer than I had to a man who was truly monster. I wore a mark upon my arm with pride until I realised it was a badge of shame, arrogance, and cruelty. I let my anger and my pride justify horrible acts. Worse, I molded my family to support it. Only one day— I found my twisted sister-in-law torturing the only friend I ever really had. A man with more loyalty and conviction than any of my other 'friends'. A man scorned by his best friend and tortured by a band of boys who wore the faces of innocents."

Lucius scowled. "That was my turning point, Lady Snape. My epiphany. The start of a new Lucius, but by then, I had an image to keep and family to protect. A son on the way in a world that looked very bad for those not under the Dark Lord's banner— We've all done things we regret."

"I think," a jagged toothed goblin said as he raised his glass, "is that we have all been given a second chance at being as great as truly are inside. Human and goblin both. We should not squander it."

"Gnashtooth, you are brilliant," Hermione said with a genuine smile.

The goblin bared his teeth in a very goblin smile. "At your service, my Lady."

"To the future," Severus said, placing his hand over his mate's. He leaned in and tenderly pressed his lips to hers.

Two bat-like ears popped up out of Hermione's curly mane as she purred loudly.

"They are going to have a full litter at this rate," Draco muttered under his breath.

"I heard that, Malfoy," Hermione said.

---

Time passes…

---

"No hoofprints in the kitchen young lady!"

The cherub faced child with elaborate viney dreads and tiny cloven feet sighed at her grandfather. "Yes, grandfather."

"So, Luna," Hermione said as she watched Xenophilius chase his grandchild and her own children around the garden with something that resembled a plush cactus— with tentacles. "Care to tell me how little Pandora Alice Longbottom ended up sporting some pretty cute cloven hooves as well as tentacles?"

Luna shrugged. "Daddy says there was a time when part of our family lived in Greece and was quite partial to fertility magic."

"Uh— huh," Hermione said, shrugging, perhaps realising that as a monstrous she-beast with a family of spunky beastlets that she didn't really have anything to protest over. "Well, at least you know your magical family roots."

Luna grinned, chopping vegetables and throwing them into the stewpot as the nearby Venomous Tentacula stirred it dutifully.

"You guys are amazing," Hermione said, beaming. "Your Tentaculas are so well-behaved. Well, most of them are," she added dryly as she watched Pandora dump a pot of dirt over Xenophilius' head.

"Neville thinks she takes after his mother," Luna said. "Apparently she was quite the spitfire as a child. Her accidental magic used to explode food."

Hermione blinked. "Neville never said anything about that!"

"Apparently he didn't even know until Augusta had a little too much to drink one night and blurted out the more embarrassing facts about Frank and Alice."

Hermione laughed. "That's kind of— amazing."

Luna grinned. "It was the night she found out that Neville had certain… fun accessories. She couldn't quite accept it without consuming copious amounts of alcohol. I have no idea why it bothered her so much. I personally find them to be quite stimulating."

Hermione coughed into her hand-talons. "I see. Well, I'm glad you both are getting on well, despite all the family drama."

"Daddy accepts everything, and he treats Neville like a son. Neville isn't sure why that means he has to wear the orange cone on his head during the holidays, but he's getting better at it."

Hermione blinked. "I'm sure he thinks it's worth it."

There was a soft crack of an Apparate as a black shadow stepped out into the garden.

"Daddy!" two voices chimed as a pair of beastlets pounced on their father followed shortly by a fauntacula child.

"Uncle!" she squealed.

"Well, hello," Severus rumbled, folding his great wings behind his back as they disappeared. He swirled the giggling beastlets and fauntacula around, kissing them each on the head and ruffling their headfur or tentacles as the case required. "Minerva wished me to fetch everyone for dinner," he rumbled. "Did you tie up Xenophilius or dig him into a tiger pit?"

"No, daddy," the beastlets pouted.

"Not you," Severus said. "Her."

Pandora's hair writhed mischievously. "Not today."

"Miracles do happen," Severus sighed, patting her on the head. "I'm sure Mr Potter's children are hoping you can do them the same courtesy."

The beastlets crossed their arms, their twin scowls remarkably like their father's. "James Sirius deserved it after trying to prune Pan's hair. Uncle Harry tanned his rump but good for that."

"Good to know that your uncle is turning out to be a far better man than his father," Severus mused. "Lucian, Minerva, have you been behaving here with the Longbottoms?"

The beastlets bounced on their legs. "Yes, father."

He smiled slightly, a small tug against the corners of his mouth. "I must fetch your mother so we're not late to dinner and Crookshanks doesn't eat all of our food."

Lucian and Minerva jumped. "Come on, Pan, let's grab our go-bags!" They dragged the fauntacula girl by the arm and dragged her off.

"No running in the kitchen!" Xenophilius' voice chimed in as the kids screeched to an exaggerated walk.

Hermione's arms snaked around Severus' waist as she pressed into him, snuggling into him. "Hello, my love."

Severus purred. "Hello, my mate."

Hermione smiled warmly at him. "Time to go home?"

"Anywhere you are is home," Severus said, his voice a whisper.

Hermione stepped on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his mouth and then the tip of his nose. "Charmer."

"Beast."

"My beast," she replied, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

Severus smiled, a real, genuine smile spreading across his face. "Always."

---

Fin.

---

Spider brigade shuffles onto the screen carrying party food.

"Hurry, hurry, don't be late!"

"We're never late!"

"Fashionably late!"

"Shh! That's not late, that's on time!"

"Two stories in a week! Amazing!"

"Needs more spiders though."

"Maybe the next story!"

"Wait, what's the next story?"

"Um… maybe she'll finish one of the other stories?"

"But which one?"

"..."

"..."

"Let's be in all of them!"

"Okay!"

Spiders scurry off the screen, drawing the curtain closed.

One spider in particular almost falls off the screen, a shiny bucket stuck over his head.

"This way, Bucket!"

Bucket scurries back in the right direction and ducks under the curtain.

---

Finis.

---

A/N: Praise The Dragon and the Rose for being the awesome poker of me, righter of grammar wrongs, translator of my horrible typing, questioner of my brain spasms, and sharer or my brain cage (which is strangely comfortable, has a tea service and great biccies.)

She also withholds my coffee and keeps me sober, regardless of how much my brain thinks it wants either. Send her Godiva chocolates in thanks.

Dutchgirl01: Hope you liked the story!