Chapter 25: What Home Is

Every time Hermione went "home" during breaks, she felt… less like it was her home. Perhaps, it was because she only saw "home" a few weeks out of the year and the rest of the time was under the vast encompassing roof of Hogwarts. Maybe, it was because when she went home, her room was exactly has she had left it when she was eleven, save for a few additions here and there when she visited.

Hermione parted her lips, taking in the scent of her room with curiosity. Her lips curled back from her teeth slightly, feeling even more discombobulated.

Her parents, happy to see her home, embraced her eagerly, and she returned it happily, but a part of her felt like a stranger in her own parent's house. Since when did she call it her parent's house instead of her home?

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she rubbed the area between her eyes in her discomfort. It wasn't like she was returning to abuse. She had no ill feelings for her parents. Her parents were supportive, or as much as two muggles who had a witch for a daughter could be supportive… Her parents loved her, she had very little doubt. She didn't get into rows with them over small or large topics. There was nothing inherently wrong with the Granger family. They weren't always the most demonstrative of parents when she was away, but they weren't completely indifferent to her, and they were definitely not something Harry had to deal with when living with the Dursleys.

Yet, as she had struggled to get gifts for her parents for the late post-Christmas occasion, she found herself thinking of a hundred and some potion ingredients or random Wizarding trinkets instead of cologne names and typical family knick-knacks.

As she sat in her muggle jeans and sweater, she felt… strangely out of place, as if she were creeping around the halls of Hogwarts out of uniform and Filch would come sailing around the corner yelling.

It was the scents that bothered her the most, or rather, the lack of. As much as she adored the scent of her mother's cooking, she missed the scent of her Master and his chambers. She missed Draco's scent of freshly-mowed hay mixed with bergamont, Viktor's musk and scent of the sea combined, and pervasive scent of the dungeon laboratories and the mixture of countless herbs of Severus' storage closet.

Vik poked his head out from Hermione's hair and chirped curiously, and Hermione smiled, transferring the little creature to her bed as she flopped down upon it. He trotted along the comforter and fluttered onto her bookshelf, seemingly inspecting its contents. He alighted on the lampshade and fluttered, trying to remain balanced, then moved on to snuffle around her writing desk. Vik nosed the pencils and pens that were gathered in a small jar, grabbed one with his beak, and carried it over to the side and cast it off the side. Vik stared at it as though it had not done what he expected, though Hermione had no idea what the little creature was expecting.

Vik fluttered back to her and rubbed up against her hands happily, enjoying her attention as she stroked his head and wings. She hadn't introduced the little hippogriff to her parents, and wasn't sure if that would be a wise idea anyway. Explaining him would be one issues. Trying to explain an emotional connection to him would be another. Her parents lived in a very cut and dry "living things breath" mentality, and Vik the Hippogriff was probably not the way she wanted to start up a discussion on the matter.

Hermione wanted to shift forms and sprawl out over the bed to relax, but a part of her wondered if her old bed would tolerate having a few hundred kilograms of fur, feathers, and beak sprawled on top of it.

And there lay yet another thing she had kept from her parents. "Mum, dad," she played out in her mind. "I can turn into a mythical creature. It's not normal even for witches and wizards, but I never could be normal." No, that was not going to be a good conversation any way she tried to spin it. She filed that conversation away with things like "Mum, dad, this is my Master, Severus Snape," "These are my brothers from Bulgaria," and "That steak looks really good, don't bother cooking it."

Hermione sighed. Tomorrow, she would have to deal with being social at the Burrow, and now that Ron was being a certifiable prat, she wasn't exactly looking forward to it, even if she had other people to be happier about seeing.

Viktor had volunteered to "be her escort" to the Burrow if she was really feeling like Ron was going to try anything, and her brothers had eagerly volunteered to be "proper guardians of their little sister's honor." As much as she would have loved to see the drama having a regiment of Durmstrang show up with her at the Burrow, she had a feeling that wasn't going to help her situation with Ron. That being said, however, she really wanted to have Viktor and his brothers show up anyway. Ginny would be beside herself. Fred and George would be wanting autographs. Some for themselves… and some to sell for profit. Goblins, the both of them.

Hermione decided to compromise. She scrawled a message on a piece of parchment and tied it to Vik with a smile. "Take this to Viktor, please," she instructed the little hippogriff. The miniature hippogriff snuffled her face affectionately and flew over to the window and waited. She opened the window, shivering at the cold, and let Vik out. Owls? Who needed owls?

Crookshanks padded in from the hallway and leapt onto her bed with a meow. He smelled like tuna. Apparently, he hadn't wasted any time buttering up her mother for tasty tidbits.

It was quite a bit later when Vik tapped his beak against her window glass. She let the little hippogriff in, and he darted in quickly, fluttering in and landed on top of Crookshanks. Crooks flopped on his side on Hermione's pillow and curled his paws around Vik as if to welcome him back.

Taking the hint, Hermione closed the window and changed into her pajamas before she slid in under the covers and closed her eyes at last.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The Burrow was ablaze with excitement this particular winter day, and even though Christmas was technically past, one would never have guessed by the flurry of activity going on in the Weasley's home.

Molly Weasley zoomed around the house like her own personal storm, setting out table settings and making the most marvelous food smells to grace the noses of all who attended. Her ability to take humble foods and turn them into something spectacular was never so evident than during the holidays.

Herding both her children, her "adopted" children, and the adults around like a herding dog with sheep, Mrs. Weasley was a master of seemingly doing everything at once.

Lupin and Sirius had engaged Arthur in an excited debate on muggle "technology" that had recently been under investigation at the Minstery of Magic after a raid. Arthur, as to be expected, was entirely fascinated by muggle things. He found muggle inventions to do things the Wizarding world had been doing since time immemorial absolutely intriguing.

Ron, or so it seemed, had been on better behavior for the entire morning, bringing a sort of relief throughout the house. However, if there had been any doubt as to what was his trigger into 101 ways to be a total prat, it was never more evident than when Hermione arrived at the door with none other than the Bulgarian Seeker Viktor Krum at her side.

Ginny, much to be expected, squealed with delight as she slammed into Hermione with a hug that practically defied gravity. She blushed fiercely when Viktor bowed his head to her.

Crookshanks, who had been curled up lazily in Viktor's arms, leapt down and made himself a pest around the Burrow, batting at ornaments and tinsel like he was just another normal cat.

Little Vik darted around like a hummingbird, charming the pants off of any who was in range, save for Ron, who just glared at the little hippogriff with disdain.

Fred and George took turns tying things to Little Vik to see how much he could carry and still fly, which ended abruptly when Molly saw her favorite mixing bowl being flown around the house by a small hippogriff.

Molly, however, was not immune to Vik's inner charm, and soon, she was cooking away in the kitchen with the little hippogriff chirping to her from her shoulder.

Quidditch became the talk of the living room, and it seemed like every male save one was eager to interrogate Viktor about his experiences on the Bulgarian Quidditch team. Ginny was no exception to the excitement as she gleefully joined in on the Quidditch talk.

Hermione, still not overly impressed with Quidditch, ended up somewhat dozing off, and Viktor pulled her against him as he spoke to the crowd. Subtly, he pulled her against his side in manner where his scent was strong, knowing that she would take comfort in it. Hermione, appreciating his socially acceptable gesture that was so much more under the surface, snuggled into him.

The moment Viktor's arm pulled Hermione to him, Ron's mouth descended into despicable and shameful sniping.

Sirius, Arthur, and Remus exchanged glances, having just seen first hand what Ron was all about, stood up, dragged Ron off outside "for a talk long overdue," and disappeared for the next few hours until Molly yelled out into the fields that dinner was ready and so help her if she had to reheat anything.

When the adult males came shuffling back in, with Ron behind, looking utterly submissive, a great sigh of relief seemed to descend upon the Burrow.

And Hermione, as much as she wished to believe Ron had seen the light, was reserving her forgiveness for when she was sure he was really repentant. All the forgiveness in the world wasn't going to do much if he was only temporarily chastened.

Viktor, nothing if not observant, stayed at her side the entire visit, always sure to offer both his touch and scent in a manner he knew was important to both her and her inner gryphon.

Dinner went without a hitch, but not without humor. Fred and George charmed a turkey leg to come alive and lunge and Ginny, causing her to squeal in surprise and almost fall off her chair. Sirius shared the improvements and restorations he did on his place at Grimmauld place to make it ultimately more habitable. Harry noted, with a little cheer, that the place even let the sun in and that there weren't bars on the windows. Everyone agreed that Harry was much better off with Sirius, even if it was a dilapidated shack in the middle of the Dark Forest rather than with the Dursleys.

Molly mothered Remus mercilessly the entire night, commenting on his health, that he needed to eat more, and a hundred other things that had the children at the table were glad that they weren't the ones being picked on that particular moment.

Arthur whipped out muggle board games after dinner, and everyone had fun trying to explain to Viktor how to play them. Hermione caught Ron staring at her throughout the night, but at least he had control over his mouth in front of his family. Each time Ron got looked like he was about to say something, Viktor would catch his eyes, staring back at him with his own impenetrable black ones.

By the time things had started to wind down into a dull roar of snoring, Sirius and Remus snagged Hermione and Viktor and respectfully bowed out. Molly wouldn't allow them to leave empty handed, packing them all baskets filled with leftovers and baked goods. She gave Remus the largest basket, telling him he needed it more. Sirius punched him on the shoulder as they left the Burrow carrying more than they had brought in.

Sirius offered his arm for a side-along, and Hermione smirked, allowing him to pull her near as Remus took Viktor with him. They arrived outside the gates of Hogwarts in light laughter.

"I bid you good evening, Moonie," Sirius laughed as he pointed at the large basket of baked goods and leftover food. "Try not to stuff yourself silly."

"Shut it, Padfoot," Remus snapped. "You know full well she's been trying to fatten me up for over a decade.

"And yet, you're as skinny as a bean pole, you scruffy looking wolf," Sirius ribbed.

"I can't help that everything I gain, I lose," Moonie huffed.

"Weight loss for the Wizarding world. Just let old Moonie give you a little nip under the full moon," Sirius barked.

"Do stuff it, Snuffles," Remus scoffed. "Or are you so much wanting of a good flea dip?"

"Dey sound like my brothers," Viktor said as he escorted her back into Hogwarts.

"Just like them, actually," Hermione agreed with a tired smile.

Viktor chuckled as little Vik chirped his agreement from Hermione's hair.

"You think there is enough in that basket to share with the hungry birds?" Hermione asked in reference to Aleksander, Lazar, Valko, and Petya.

"I tink so," Viktor lifted the basket up speculatively. "If not, ve hunt together again soon enough."

Hermione smiled. It had been odd suddenly having company on her hunts. Odd… and comforting in a way that she was fairly sure those who didn't have second forms that were apex predators wouldn't understand. Then again, not all apex predators were social, but it seemed that the part of them that was human tempered the beast into something that walked a line between. "It was odd at first… having someone to hunt with other than Draco."

"He hunt vith you?" Viktor questioned.

"Mmmhmm," Hermione answered. "Severus has us drill together regularly. Mounted and non."

"Your Master is wise," Viktor said respectfully."Look ahead better than most."

Hermione nodded. "He wants us to be prepared. More prepared than he was, he says, when he was my age."

"Sign of good Master, Her-my-own," Viktor said softly. "He vatch for danger always to protect things dear to him. Sad that so few here under dis roof… can see it. Dhough… probably best dat only few do now that storm is brewing. Storm dat only few of us can see and know what it means."

"Sometimes it's hard… knowing," Hermione said as seriousness washed over her face.

Viktor put his palm to her cheek, brushing the surface of her skin with his thumb. "It hard to be animagus surrounded by dhose that cannot understand. No matter how well dhey vish to. Is harder still, to know someting coming and must do nothing, lest secret reveal too early."

"Dis is vhy Durmstrang strong," Viktor continued. "Durmstrang know power not in blood. Power here," he said, placing his hand upon her heart. "Power here," he said as he touched her temple with his finger. "Strength in purpose. Unity in heart. Protect vhat you care for… to dying breath."

Hermione smiled at Viktor genuinely and nodded. "Your High Master… Igor… he makes us think Durmstrang is a pureblood only institution. That is why… I have such a hard time understanding how close I have become to you and your brothers."

"Durmstrang old," Viktor replied. "Older than Igor. Older than most tink. Long ago, created by great Bulgarian witch named Nerida Vulchanova. Dere vas no pure-blood then. Only dhose that can use magic and dhose that could not. Later, some tink she killed, and position taken by Harfang Munter, vho turned school into one of dueling and magic of var. Trends come and go, but some of us remember older ways than Igor. One day, Igor will meet his end, and Durmstrang will change again, like the swell of seas. Ve vill remain strong because ve have to be strong. To protect vhat is most important."

Viktor held her hand to his mouth and gently pressed his lips to the back of her hand as they approached the corridor leading down to the dungeons. "Even if vhat is between us never progress beyond. You always be Sky Sister. I protect you till dying breath. Dis I swear."

Hermione trembled slightly, biting her lip as she looked into Viktor's black eyes.

"I ask permission," Viktor said softly.

Hermione's eyes widened, and felt her stomach grow alive with butterflies. "Yes," she replied, her voice barely audible.

Viktor's eyes flicked downward, and he leaned down, gently pressing his lips to hers. His kiss was gentle as his hand wove into the hair on the back of her head, pulling her into him.

Hermione practically lost her grip on the basket of food she was carrying.

Viktor pulled away slowly, gently brushing her hair back from her ear with his fingers. "Goodnight, Ari," he rumbled softly. "Had good time today."

Hermione shook off her stunned look as she realized Viktor had used her nickname.

"Found name in book in library," Viktor said as he bowed goodnight. "Seem appropriate."

Hermione beamed and dropped into a curtsy. "Goodnight," she replied softly.

Viktor turned and retreated down the corridor to the courtyard, heading back to the Durmstrang ship.

Hermione's brain was so lost in thought as she headed towards Severus' private chambers that she almost forgot to disillusion herself. She hustled down the corridor, suddenly glad that no one could see her face flushed so red it could have matched Aleksander's fiery wings.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Severus returned to his chambers late. It was far more late than his usual "late." His errand running for the old man was annoying, but at least it had been months since the last time Dumbledore had demanded him fetch something in the middle of the night.

It wasn't as though he didn't send Draco and Hermione off to fetch things in just the same utterly random time of night for his own equally important reasons, but Severus hardly believed Albus cared for him as he had come to care about his two unlikely charges. He was pretty sure that Albus forgot he was even there until he needed something.

Irritating old man.

As he walked out of the antechamber into the larger living quarters, all of his frustration melted away as he realized there would always be one creature that roamed the world with him that would never cease think of him in both peacetime and war.

Hermione was sprawled out in the middle of his room rug, wings spread out as she lay on her back, her lions legs and eagle talons splayed outward and up in random directions. Vik the Hippogriff was sitting on her stomach in a far more dignified position than his mistress. Beside her was a plumply filled basket of what could only be food from her excursion to the Burrow.

When Viktor had come to his chamber to beg an audience, he had no idea what he Durmstrang youth had intended. He had dropped to his knees in front of him like a supplicant, and begged permission to both escort Hermione to the Burrow and, in the future, court his Apprentice.

It had been a good thing Severus had vast experience keeping his expression completely deadpan, or he might have done something unseemly in front of the Bulgarian Seeker that would not have been remotely dignified.

Viktor Krum was, without a doubt, a naturally skilled wizard. He was bright, intelligent, experienced, and a natural born leader. Those things aside, the young man had a deep resounding respect for his elders and his betters. He also respected Hermione in a way it seemed her own peers could not. Hermione could do so much worse than Viktor Krum. And, Viktor was an animagus… cut from the same supernatural cloth as Hermione… a cloth that defied all the rules that animagi could only be an animal from the natural world.

He and his brothers would, he knew, be honor bound to protect their sister till their dying breath, with or without the element of courtship.

Severus had approved Viktor's appeal, adding the expected conditions that if he ever hurt her, that he would take it out on his corpse.

Viktor had smiled at that, saying, he would expect no less of Hermione's Master.

When Severus had asked why Viktor would appeal to him for permission over her biological father, Viktor gave him an almost sad smile.

"Her loyalty to you absolute," Viktor had told him. "Her love for you greater than parents. Greater than friend. Dere is no one else dat has her respect and trust so strong, and I would ask no one else but you."

Seeing the gryphon laying on his room carpet made the memory sink in a little deeper. She rolled her head back and forth on the carpet, nostrils flaring. She focused on him and gave a small affectionate chirp.

He sat down beside her, gently rubbing her exposed belly.

Hermione groaned softly, the sound coming out a strange purr that resonated from her open beak. Her eyelids fluttered.

As his hand pulled away, her eyes opened, and she looked into his eyes, her adoration as plain in her eyes as it would have been on a human face.

:Did your trip to the Burrow go well, my Apprentice?: he asked softly.

:Better than I expected,: she replied to him, nudging his hand with her beak so he'd keep rubbing.

Severus smirked at her forward request, but obliged her, soothing her soft fur.

:I brought you dinner, my Master,: she said warmly.

:Spoils from the Weasley Matriarch?:

:Best kind, Master,: Hermione said. :There's even pie.:

Severus gently rubbed the area between her "ears" and let his eyes show the smile his face could not. "Thank you," he said out-loud.

Hermione's mental presence surrounded him in a warmth as strong as her body heat filled the room. :You are welcome, my Master."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N: Happy Halloween, everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's horrible outside tonight. Only had two trick or treaters so far. So sad. I guess that means more snickers bars for me. Not so sad!

I'm debating on the redemption of Ronald Weasley or just torturing him by sic'ing Lav-Lav on him eventually. He could spend the rest of the story trying to escape her unsuccessfully. Muahahahaa…. Ahem.