Wandlore Wordsmiths & Betas Rare Pairs One-Shot Writing Competition

Entry: If the Fates Allow (Number 3)

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Rating: M, Light Smut

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Salazar Slytherin/Hermione Granger

Trigger Warnings: NA

Disclaimer: All canon characters, plots and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. None of the Author's represented here are profiting from these stories.

If the Fates Allow

"Well, look who I ran into," crowed Coincidence. "Please," flirted Fate, "this was meant to be."

JGL

Hermione Granger had been filled with anticipation for a week now. Her magic was pulsating for everyone around her to feel, and for how deserted the Burrow was today, her optimism did not go unnoticed. Ginny Weasley demanded to know who she had met and did not believe for a second she hadn't started seeing anyone new.

Not after your brother stomped on my heart, she thought to herself, cringing at the bitterness she felt. Truthfully, Hermione didn't know why she was feeling so upbeat. "I'm just in a good mood, Gin. That's all!"

She later apparated to her modest flat in Muggle London. It was exhausting going to the Burrow, but she missed the Weasleys. Now that Ron was with Lavender, Hermione's visits were much too few and far between. No use crying over spilled milk, Hermione. He's moved on and so have you, she inwardly scolded.

It had been six years. She had moved on - truly - but she missed the family that so lovingly took her in. While Hermione's inner dialogue ran, she let her magic roam freely in her home. There was nothing more comforting than letting her magic flow, and she had been so careful to keep it reigned in this past week. She didn't need anyone else noticing her magic crackling around her. Suddenly, her magic threw up a wall of defense.

There is someone tampering with my wards.

••••

There was a persistent nudging at his consciousness, like an annoying cat - kneading at him, trying to wake him up. He forcibly shoved the intruder out of his mind. He was a skilled Legilimens and no one was getting past his shields. He drifted back into a slumber, satisfied he would no longer be bothered, but there it was again! "What?" he roared.

"Your line has fallen," the detached voices whispered to him. "Your children are no more."

He was humbled. "I apologize, Moirae, I did not know it was you."

"You are forgiven, young one, so long as you heed our instruction." Their melodic voices caressed him. "You may return to the Living. Your house shall not fall to despair. One more chance, by Fate, we are giving. With a witch of our choosing, shall you conceive an heir."

He was wary of the Fates words, but knew better than to doubt them. "Yes, I accept," he said. He felt his consciousness being pulled as if by portkey, and a strange tingling overtaking his senses.

Suddenly, he found himself, body and all, outside of a building called "The Leaky Cauldron". Well that's nothing to be proud of" he thought, eyeing the building before walking away from it. He soon found himself surrounded by very loud, very fast carriages.

They've made carriages run without horses? What wonderful magic! He resolved to learn the spell as soon as he could, but for now, he had to find the witch Fate had chosen for him.

He extended his magic, feeling for any trace of magical energy. He immediately felt a magical signature that seemed drawn to his own. Morgana, it was powerful! He quickly strode toward the apex of the energy, knowing his witch-to-be was the creator of such beautiful magic. Her magic feels strong - the strongest I've felt in a long time. Strong and pure, just like myself. The Fates are never wrong, he thought with pride.

He had found her flat and reached his magic out to feel for wards. He was surprised at the strength and complexity of the warding magic surrounding her door. He reached out again, looking for a break or weak spot when her felt magic sliding over his like a warm bath. As quickly as it came, it retreated and threw up a block so hard that he was thrown backward. His head hit the wall with a sickening thud, and he taste copper and rust, blood, in his mouth before the blackness took over.

•••

Hermione was pacing the floor in front of the still unconscious intruder. She contemplated a quick peek into his mind before mentally scolding herself. Merlin, Hermione. You can't just rummage around in an unconscious man's mind!

She stalked back and forth, gathering all the information she could by the man's appearance. "Tall. Dark hair. Is that a ribbon holding it back? Well dressed - he comes from money. Plain white shirt, obviously well made. Black trousers, tailored to him. Pureblood, probably. Merlin, he looks fit! I wonder what colour his eyes are?" She whirled back toward him when she heard a small groan.

"Who are you!" She demanded, wand pointed under his chin. He opened his eyes and blinked slowly at her.

"I'm looking for the Master of the house, girl. Fetch him for me," the man said while trying, and failing, to stand.

Hermione's magic visibly sparked around her. "Girl? Girl?" she spat. "This girl put a permanent sticking charm on that chair. This girl put you flat on your arse with occlumency shields. This girl is the brightest witch of her age!"

He was taken aback by her rage. Surely, a nice witch as herself would know to take better care of a guest. Why hadn't the Master of the house come to greet him? The manners in this time were simply atrocious. He started to speak again when he was interrupted. "I am the Master of this house," Hermione stated. "And what is your business here?" "Forgive me, Mistress Granger. I have been sent by the Moirae to mate with a witch whose magic calls to me - who's magic they have marked for mine."

"Fate? Fate sent you? They just think I can't find someone myself? They have to send some guy to shag me?" Hermione began to pace again. She turned sharply back to him. "Prove it."

He partially opened his mind to her and allowed her to view his memories. After feeling her intense and focused magic wade through his thoughts he gently closed his mind again.

"Merlin's beard, you're Salazar Slytherin? What kind of cruel joke is this?" Seeing the bewildered look on the Slytherin's face, she quickly yanked up her sleeve and held her arm in front of his face. "I suppose you want to kill the mudblood too?" She fumed, wondering if the Fates had sent him back to kill her.

"Is that a thing they do in this time?" He spoke. Salazar was confused about her strange tattoo, but he was over 1000 years old. He didn't know what wizards were doing in this day. In his time, Morgana, witches were burning themselves at the stake. He was not unaccustomed to tattoos in his time, but generally they were reserved for men.

"Mistress Granger, I do not wish you any harm. As you can see, I'm not a Goblin or Troll, but a wizard. The blood of the Earth is in my veins as well."

"Wha-what?"

"I am a wizard, or mud-blooded as your arm so clearly states" he explained. He was beginning to suspect she was a tad simple.

"What? No. I'm muggle born. My blood is dirty, according to you."

"I have said nothing of the sort, Mistress Granger!"

"Hermione", she breathed out, flustered. This was Salazar Slytherin, the founder of the most prejudiced house at Hogwarts. Mister blood supremacist himself, and he just called himself a mudblood. "You can call me Hermione."

"My friends called me Sal," he offered to her as well. Hermione wrinkled her nose.

"You don't really look like a Sal," she said primly as her eyes roved his body once more.

Merlin, he was fit!

Thank you Hermione. Salazar's face was smug. You are quite lovely yourself.

Hermione's face flamed red. "Get. Out. Of. My. Head," she seethed as she stormed off into the inner depths of flat. Salazar did an intricate incantation and smoothly stood up from his chair to follow Hermione. He sensed her magic trailing behind her like a sweet cloud of perfume. He found her sitting on the edge of a bed, face buried in her hands. Her hair was wild around her. Salazar decided he quite liked her unruly hair. It was untamed and beautiful, like her magic.

Hermione could sense him standing in front of her. She took a deep breath, ready to yell at him again when she caught his scent. It was better than the strongest Amortentia, and she inhaled once more as the smells clouded her mind. It was like laying in a freshly mowed field while reading an old book, spearmint toothpaste and something spicy, like men's shampoo. It was intoxicating. Salazar seemed to be caught in the same trance as he murmured "parchment and vanilla."

Their eyes locked as he sank to his knees before her. She faintly nodded as he reached for her, as if he was caught in a spell, their lips barely brushing. Hermione pulled him deeper into the kiss while his scent enveloped her. She felt a sweet, slow burn settle in her stomach as they slowly moved toward the top of her bed.

Salazar suddenly stopped - his eyes wild - drinking in Hermione's flushed face and beautifully swollen lips. "You are a goddess," he said to her, his voice low. Hermione blushed as Salazar slowly removed his shirt, his stormy blue eyes never breaking contact with hers.

"A goddess worthy of worship," he whispered reverently as he slowly lifted the hem of her dress, revealing her thighs. Salazar's breath caught in his throat. "So beautiful," he breathed onto her bare skin. Hermione shivered with anticipation as she felt slow kisses traveling up her thighs.

She was going to combust. She was sure of it. Fervent whispers "so good" begging "please don't stop," punctuated with a loud "Yes!" Her fingers and toes curling into her previously well-made bed. Hermione finally came undone, her magic crackling around her, with Salazar finishing close behind her. He leaned down to kiss her once more. His mouth sweet and tasted of her, Hermione realized, blushing. Their bodies gleaming in the darkness as sweat beads slowly evaporated from their skin.

Hermione cast a quick scourgify on them both as they lay exhausted in her bed. "Merlin! Did you see the-"

"Actual fireworks? Yes. Beautiful " Salazar grinned at her. "And I knew Merlin, not a very impressive wizard really. I'm much better. There's a reason they say Merlin's beard." He arched an eyebrow suggestively at her.

Hermione's eyes grew wide as she realized what he was insinuating. "You foul old man!" She teased him. The Moirae knew what they were doing when they sent him to me. Hermione thought as her eyelids grew heavy. Before sleep finally claimed her she snuggled into the crook of Salazar's arm feeling more complete than she ever had.

Hermione woke, startled. Her bed was empty and judging by the cool sheets, had been for a while. She ran out of her room and immediately ran into Salazar who was now wearing a full English. "I was trying to bring you breakfast in bed," he explained while looking down at the food at his feet. "Although, I'm sure you could find something else to eat." His heated gaze traveled back up her body.

Hermione loved the impish smile on his face. "To the shower with you! And maybe I'll join." She grinned back at him as he carefully made his way to the bathroom. She heard the water start and faint singing as she quickly cleaned up the mess outside her door. Salazar Slytherin is singing in my shower right now. She shook her head and hurried to join him, eager for a repeat performance of the night before.

Two showers later they were finally clean.

•••

Hermione was joyous. It had been the best month of her life. "I could live every day like this," she exclaimed happily. She cast her magic toward Salazar so he could feel her elation but quickly drew it back upon seeing the frown on his face.

"Your magic feels different," he explained. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head. He quickly grabbed his wand and pointed it at her belly. A faint glow around her lower abdomen confirmed his suspicions. "I'm going to be a father?" He asked, already knowing the answer. "I'm going to be a father!" He spun Hermione around, elated. "I think I'm going to be sick," he quickly added. Salazar quickly put his beloved down and rushed to the bathroom.

Hermione did another incantation and saw the golden glow turn to blue. A boy! She was having a boy! She moved to the bathroom when she heard quiet voices.

Our prophesy has been fulfilled. The child of Slytherin, so was willed. Within your belly, his heir grows. But this son, he shall not know.

All former happiness quickly drained out of her. No. Hermione's heart was racing. No. No. No. She threw open the bathroom door, praying to find him behind it. She crumpled to her knees, sobbing into the empty bathroom, her wails echoing off the stark white tile.

She was alone.

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