A rather soggy Severus Snape stepped into the embracing warmth of his private quarters deep in the dungeons of Hogwarts. In contrast to the rest of the dungeon's halls and even his own Potions classroom, he kept his personal rooms in a perpetual state of warmth. The fireplaces were constantly refilled with fresh logs and a kettle of water was at steady near-boil on a trivet in the corner of the hearth. He shivered and stifled a sneeze before dragging his soaked robes from his body. He tossed them over the fireplace screen to dry, unworried about them catching fire. They'd been thoroughly charmed by his own hand to resist fire after a rather unsettling incident with the infuriating Potter brat and his sidekicks during the boy's first year.
He sighed and slumped down into the comfort of his favorite wingback chair. With a flick of his wrist, the teapot poured a steady stream of hot water into his mug. He sent the kettle back to its place with little more than a thought and a wave of his hand. The good, strong scent of steeping tea began to seep from the mug and he lifted it to his chest. He let his hands rest there, wrapped around the mug, absorbing the heat from the ceramic. He sipped the brew carefully, trying not to scald his tongue and mouth. He sighed again, this time in pleasure as the tea sent a spiral of warmth into his stomach.
He could hardly believe his fortune. He'd just returned from the final meeting with his "probation officer". Kingsley Shacklebolt was a good man, and Severus was glad to have had him on his side when the Battle of Hogwarts and the destruction of the Dark Lord had been finished. The word of The Boy Who Lived to Annoy had certainly helped, along with Severus' own memories, but Kingsley had truly gone to bat for him, keeping him out of Azkaban with the promise to meet personally with Severus weekly to gauge his return to society. For two and a half years now, he'd had to justify his every move with the Ministry. Well, no more. Severus Snape was finally a free man!
Severus scoffed. As if he wanted to return to society. If he'd had his own way, he'd have retreated to a cabin in the middle of the Arctic. And then he'd sit and ruminate just as he did now, on the complete stupidity of people in general. And so Severus sat, gazing into the flames of the fire and thinking his dark thoughts as outside the storm continued to pound the stone facade of Hogwarts.
After the Battle of Hogwarts, it had been amazing how quickly the wizarding community had banded together to return Hogwarts to its former glory. Every brick, every stone, every statue, every staircase had been painstakingly repaired with magic. Within six months, the beautiful old school had been ready for students again. It had taken some shuffling, but those who had wished to return to take their seventh year N.E.W.T. studies had been granted a special allowance. Not surprisingly, Hermione Granger had come in at the top, along with the surprising Draco Malfoy in a very close second. The two had made their peace and within a year, both had positions as Hogwarts Professors. Malfoy as Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Hermione taking over Transfiguration from now-Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.
Hermione slunk back inside the safety and warmth of her room, slunk being an apt word for it. She watched stealthily for any sign of Mr. Filch, or gods forbid, Mrs. Norris, that mangy tattletale. She tried to keep her frantic nerves under control. Oh, what was Minerva going to say about this? That Hermione was an utter disaster, and didn't deserve her teaching certificate, certainly. What brainless idiot went out alone to practice animagus Transfiguration?
Apparently, Hermione Jean Granger, she thought, sitting on her rump, a very feline tail curling around her side. She had been sitting in the Forbidden Forest, meditating and focusing on her animagus form. The first blast of pain had startled her, the rush of fur and the bending of bones had frightened her and she'd lost her focus. And then she had become so frightened that she couldn't turn herself back!
Her tail flicked back and forth. Who could she go to for help? She wracked her tiny kitten-sized brain as she started to pace back and forth listing off her friends in her head. Certainly not Harry or Ronald, as much as she loved them, neither of them had the capacity to understand what she'd done. Draco was at the Manor for the break. In fact, the only teachers here besides herself were Minerva and ...Severus! She raced down the halls towards his quarters, her tiny paws making little thumping noises as she ran.
She reached the doorway...now what? How was she going to get his attention? When it came to her, she wanted to smack herself in the head. She lifted her paws and began to scratch repeatedly at the door. It only took a few minutes before the door swung open and Severus Snape appeared, looking rather annoyed. He scanned the hallway looking for whatever miscreant had decided to interrupt his evening in front of the fire. He finally looked down when Hermione let out a soft "Mreow?"
"What do you want, you mangy feline?" he huffed.
Mangy? MANGY? Hermione hissed at him. Without hesitation, she raced inside his quarters before he could grab her.
"What do you think you're doing? Get back here!" Severus called out, turning to give chase. He noticed that the kitten had jumped up on his couch and had immediately curled up there, giving him what appeared to be a smug look. And indeed, if Hermione's face had been her own, it would have shone with smugness. She still couldn't believe he'd called her mangy. Ok, so maybe she was a bit bedraggled from the rain and mud on the way back to the castle. And maybe her hair had transitioned into a rather wild, messy coat, but still, mangy?
Severus sighed and shut the door. He eyed the kitten and made a shooing motion with his hands. "If you're going to stay, you're going to scoot over, you little beast." He raised an eyebrow when the kitten delicately sniffed before standing and padding over exactly one cushion and plopping down again before looking up at him with distaste. He had to stifle a laugh. "So, whose familiar are you?" he asked thoughtfully. He watched as the kitten drifted closer to his fingers, which were drumming on the cushion. He grinned and began to move his fingers quickly, flicking them left to right.
Hermione watched in fascination as Severus' long, strong fingers flicked back and forth in front of her. She couldn't control the kitten-ish urge and reached out to swat at them. She bounced happily, chasing them back and forth and was stunned and distracted enough to fall off the couch itself when Severus let out a long, loud laugh. She was similarly astonished when he reached down and picked her up by the scruff of her neck and placed her on his chest. He began to run his fingers through her thick fur and an involuntary purr began to rumble through Hermione's chest.
Quickly and efficiently, Severus swung his long legs onto the couch and leaned back against the cushions, staring into the fire as he let his fingers run through the wild, but incredibly soft fur of the kitten. He slowly let the flames soothe his mind, letting down the barriers he still carried from years of being a spy. Between the warmth of the flames on his face, and the warm, purring little kitten perched on his chest, he slipped into a sleep deeper than he'd enjoyed in twenty years.
Hermione herself was feeling rather sleepy in the surprisingly warm dungeon room. She blinked sleepily and closed her eyes as Severus' fingers mechanically, but gently, sifted through her fur, lulling her into sleep. She laid her little head on his chest, still purring as she too drifted off into deep dreams.
