The Daily Prophet, 1 March 2000.
In the spotlight: Ron Weasley turns twenty today! The playboy, famous for his numerous escapades, has been well and truly caught. He and Jenna Shacklebolt, the Playwizard model, announced their betrothal yesterday. They claim to have fallen helplessly in love. However, speculations are rife. Rumour has it that Kingsley Shacklebolt, who is also Ron Weasley's boss, didn't take kindly to the fact that the young wizard had impregnated his niece without a ring on her finger. There are whispers of him striking a deal with the Weasleys, invoking the old Pure-blood tradition of an arranged marriage in lieu of a duel for the Playwizard model's honour. Will there be even more juicy scandals to come from the young war hero?
Their morning coffee had proved to taste even better in bed. She had taken Severus' advice, moving in with him, because she couldn't refuse in the light of those very real concerns for her safety. Over a couple of nights, they had performed a spell that let him pinpoint her position with a frightful accuracy, another spell that let them both - she had insisted - send a message of S.O.S., plus spells that created a connection, letting them feel the others' stronger emotions like fear, anger or wild joy.
She had chuckled at that, telling him: "If this makes me feel your fury every time a student acts up, I'm going to regret this."
He had arched an eyebrow smugly, before whispering into the shell of her ear: "Are you sure I'm actually angry every time that happens?"
Shivering at the pleasant tickle of his breath against her sensitive skin, she had muttered: "I should have known. You're just … playing them, are you?"
"Quite right," he had said, his tongue flicking her earlobe, making her gasp. "I do enjoy my games."
The only thing they had absconded from, was a binding spell. It was too early, she told herself, though she suspected that if she'd ever bind herself to anyone, it would be him, and no other. But... did he feel the same way? She hoped so, but hadn't dared to ask.
Cohabiting with him felt very strange, but also surprisingly normal. During the day, it was much the same as it had always been. They saw each other at meals, and went about their day separately. In the evenings, they worked together in his quarters.
At first, after dinner, he'd finish up his marking sitting by the desk, while she traced calculations, standing in front of her trusty magical blackboard, working through arithmetic problems, going through her students' predictions.
The only sounds would be the scratching of his quill, while she would at times mutter to herself, jotting down observations on a notepad.
Then, they'd turn to reading, taking a chair each in front of the fireplace, having tea or a Firewhisky. They ended, invariably, on the sofa, still reading, she curled into his arms, while he carded his fingers through her hair absently. The excitement built up in her body, tingling at his proximity, promising ecstasy to come, as he slowly got hard when she stroked his thigh.
Finally, it would be bedtime, and by that time, they couldn't get their clothes off soon enough.
This morning, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder, her sex throbbing almost uncomfortably by the rough treatment he'd given her the night before, she almost spilled her coffee as a Patronus burst into their bedroom. It was a white dove, and the unearthly, desperate voice clearly belonged to Euphemia Rowle:
Severus! He's here - I can see him prowling on the outskirts of the property. He can't get past the wards, but he's trying. Gods, he's come to kill me, you know? I'm activating the emergency Portkey in three minutes. Meet us by the gates. Please!
Severus shot up from the bed, spelling his clothes on with an incantation Hermione had never even heard of, and he was the immaculately dressed Professor Snape in a second.
"Wait here," he said, eyes dark. "I'm getting Euphemia and Morgana to safety."
"Was that about… Thorfinn Rowle?" she asked, and he nodded curtly.
"It must have been. We'll see."
Xxxx
He strode down the icy corridor, the hastily performed clothing spell working like a dream, though he could still smell the sex from last night on his body. Or maybe it was primarily from his chin.
Stopping briefly outside the great Entrance doors, squinting at the early March sunlight, he cast a quick Scourgify on himself. While it made him clean, it also felt like he tried to rip off his skin, the spell scouring like an abrasive cloth used much too roughly for comfort.
Oh well, better than smelling like a brothel as he met his Goddaughter and Euphemia.
Last night, he had forced Hermione to stay still, her legs quivering on all fours in the bed, telling her to obey, ignoring the way she begged for release, as he licked her slick little pussy from behind.
Her sighs and whimpers had made him rock hard, palming his cock as he tasted her sweet little cunt, his tongue barely being able to enter that tight hole, her hard nub begging for his attention, making her squirm and rock her body back at him.
"Stay still," he had admonished her, but she hadn't listened, writhing her hips, trying to get off without him allowing it.
Her disobedience had earned her a few good, hard smacks on her arse, making the cheeks jiggling enticingly, turning red, her moans growing more loud with each strike. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore, rising up, freeing his cock and pushing inside her. It was still such a stretch, his cock barely fitting inside that tight opening, but she had gasped, arching her back, showing her willingness to take all of him.
Using force, he had slammed himself fully inside, and she squealed, legs trembling, but as he snaked an arm around her round hips, rubbing the her aching nub, she quickly became a panting little mess, thrusting back on his cock, the wet sheath sliding with a growing ease on his shaft as he widened her, stretching her to fit his size.
Leaning back, both hands on her hips now in a hard grip, eyes slitted in concentration, he had watched the delicious drag of his cock thrusting in and out of her, seeing the shining slickness coating his shaft. His heart hammered, listening to the mewls coming from his witch, knowing that he was filling her to the point of bursting, and his balls were tightening, lifting up, getting ready to give her all he had got.
"Take it," he had groaned, "take it all, you take my cock so well, now take it all!"
"Yes, fill me up," she had almost squealed, "I want you to come inside me! Please, Severus, give it to me!"
Her head had been hanging down between her arms, jolting by every hard thrust he gave her, but when he rubbed her clit again, she raised her head, looking back over her shoulder. Brown eyes glazed in pleasure met his, and she muttered: "Please, Severus, it's so good, I need you!"
Holding her gaze, he muttered hoarsely: "Come for me, Hermione, come on my cock. Now, witchling!"
With a whimper, she obeyed, and as she crested, cunt squeezing him so deliciously, he had come inside her, snarling and growling, not being able to do anything but pumping her full. She collapsed forward, with him on top, crushing her body into the mattress, before they had rolled around, promptly falling asleep, her with her head on his chest.
His cock twitching slightly as he thought of her pink, glistening pussy, her juices saturating into his chin, but he quickly Banished such thoughts. Now, he was trudging down to the gates to talk to a very distraught witch and a probably too-happy two-year-old who in all likelihood loved the excitement. Sex should be the farthest thing from his mind. Even though the witch he loved seemed to love him back.
Xxxx
Hermione washed quickly, still feeling him acutely between her legs after last night's romp, wondering if there would ever come a time when she wouldn't notice, if she'd ever get used to his size. Being who she was, she had looked up statistics on average length and width, and he was far beyond average, surpassing the 'normal' specter of the statistical curve by quite a few centimeters.
After twenty minutes, Morgana came rushing in, followed by Severus, Euphemia and Minerva.
"He'miny!" the little girl squealed, black curls streaking behind her, throwing herself around Hermione's neck.
"Hello, so nice of you to visit," she said, smiling at the little girl.
Hermione had the notion that she should pretend normality for the sake of the little girl, sparing her for the bleak reality of the visit, but that was apparently not the case.
Morgana shrugged: "Not visit, we're hiding! The bad men will kill us."
Minerva's eyes shot to her hairline, and she pursed her mouth, glancing disapprovingly at Euphemia. Clearly, it wasn't only Hermione who had expected the Rowle woman to protect the child from the truth.
Euphemia was pale and distraught, almost wringing her hands. "I had to tell her, she's not satisfied if I try to keep things from her. It's like she knows if I … omit anything. Just like him , you know. Could spot a lie without fail."
"Well," Minerva said sharply, "she is a small child. Death Eaters aren't anything she should be worrying about."
Severus said pensively, settling in his favourite chair: "I'm not sure she's worried. She isn't old enough to understand what it means."
"Anyway, you need to take care of her from now on, Severus. I … I … can't do this anymore. Seeing him … Merlin, I thought my heart stopped. I feel like a sitting duck with him prowling around us. You know what he did to me. You know how it was." Euphemia hid her face in her hands, sobbing in great, wracking spurts.
"I know," Severus said, deep voice soothing. "He can't get inside the wards, though. You were safe. Thorfinn can't get to you."
"What am I to do if Morgana runs outside? He'll kill us both on sight." Euphemia's voice was high, shrill and panicky.
"Tea," Minerva said firmly. "We'll have tea before we discuss this."
Morgana wandered around in the living room, glancing at all the books as Hermione set out the tea things and Severus brewed a large pot of strong tea.
"Read?" the girl asked, pulling at Severus' sleeve.
"I will," he muttered, "but not right away. Would you like scones with strawberries for your tea?"
"Yes!" the little girl beamed, "S'berries!"
There was a look of concentration on Severus' face, and in less than a minute, a House-Elf popped in with a tray of scones, clotted cream and strawberries.
"Oh, look!" Morgana said, eyes round with fascination as she stared at the Elf.
The House-elf looked equally pleased at seeing a child, grinning widely: "I'm Kindany, young Miss. Will Miss want hot chocolate instead of tea? With a dollop of cream?"
Morgana nodded, seemingly speechless, and Kindany disappeared with a loud pop, returning promptly with a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
The little girl took the mug reverently, smiling shyly at the House-Elf. Kindany waved happily at her, before Disapparating again.
Settling at the table, Morgana busy spooning strawberries and cream over her scones, Euphemia said: "I really meant it. I want to disappear abroad, making certain Thorfinn will never find me, and… Severus, we've talked about this. You need to take care of her yourself, or… find someone else."
He nodded slowly, casting a glance at Hermione. "I know. Minerva, as I see it, this is the only solution. If I perform a magical adoption, I could present her as my own child, and while there'll be questions, her life will be fairly normal, compared to…"
Minerva sipped her tea, pursing her lips. "What about the backstory? I mean, people will question who the mother is, and why you're not together."
"She could have died during the war," he said, shrugging. "It's true, isn't it?"
"Yes, or you could…" Minerva grinned slyly, before continuing:"This, of course, will cause a small scandal, but in the long run, it might be better."
"What do you mean?" he barked, glaring at the Headmistress, making Hermione wonder what this was all about.
"Oh, " the woman muttered innocently, before the Chesire cat grin broke out again: "You could tell the world she's yours," her hands indicating Hermione and Severus.
"Ours?" Hermione said weakly. "I would have been a student…"
"Yes," Minerva said, to the shocked faces of the three other adults. "You were at it during Dumbledore's last year, she became pregnant, and then things - you know what - happened, and you drifted apart, only just now getting back together."
There was a stunned silence, before Hermione said decisively: "That would never work. I mean, lots of people would know this wasn't true. I wasn't pregnant, I was on the run, in a tent, in the woods, fighting battles, for crying out loud!"
Severus shook his head, looking almost hurt. "Minerva, you know I would never have touched a student. If my reputation isn't bad enough as it is, this will make it … even worse."
xxxx
Euphemia was hugging herself, like she was cold, eyes glassy, and Severus realized the woman was too lost in her own panicked desperation to contribute to the discussion. This suggestion from Minerva was the most hare-brained thing he'd ever heard, and … oh wait. This was the first outrageous suggestion, designed for a refusal, and now, Minerva would show her hand, putting her real proposal on the table.
He narrowed his eyes, looking at the old bint.
Minerva shrugged, looking artfully casual, though he could see she was a smug as a Niffler on a hoard of gold. "You should both adopt her, then," she said, nodding at Hermione. "Or else, the real mother's name will still show in the Hogwarts' ledger. If you both adopt her, you will be her parents. Morgana's Mum and Dad, here, at Hogwarts."
Morgana peeked up, her tiny face smeared with liberal amounts of chocolate, cream, crumbs and strawberries, and said: "Mum and Dad? Here?" She grinned widely at Severus and Hermione. "I want that! And that… that… with this?" she struggled, gesturing with her mug of hot chocolate, obviously having never heard of House-elves.
"House-elves," his pretty witch automatically supplied, "they work here at Hogwarts, tending the kitchen and the castle."
"Yes," the girl said, trying out the word: "House- e… e...elf."
Pointing her tiny finger determinedly at Severus and Hermione, she repeated fiercely: "I want that. Make it so!"
Suddenly, a chill went through him. There was something about the stubborn set of the little girl's jaw that he associated with Voldemort, just like the Dark Lord had looked when he made a decision. With her magical strength and her heritage, he'd have to work long and hard indeed to make sure Morgana came out right, knowing that she shouldn't abuse her power, not turning down the path of her parents.
Looking at his witch, he said slowly: "I think we need to discuss this first. Minerva…. Would you be so kind to let Euphemia stay for a few days, until she's calmed down and made some plans?"
"Certainly," the old witch said, "I'll see about a guest room right away. If you'll come with me, Mrs. Rowle, and you too, Morgana. I assure you, you'll be quite safe."
The three witches, one old, one middle-aged and one very small, left the room, Morgana skipping happily ahead of the two others.
Silently, he observed his witch. She was pensively gnawing on her bottom lip, eyes dark and lost in thoughts.
Clearing his throat, he said, much too lightly: "Magical adoption is a binding magical contract."
"I know," she said distractedly, and he snorted.
"Of course you know. I was merely pointing out the ramifications."
"Yes." She was still silent, and he felt a sense of unease creeping in. It was much too early. Asking her this, was tantamount to a marriage proposal, tying them together forever by their bond to Morgana.
"It would be beneficial to Morgana," she said at last. "But… you and I…"
Severus felt panic rise inside. This was it. She had no intentions of a long lasting relationship, this was just a brief moment of fun for her, wasn't it? She was going to cast him away. He was too old, like he had thought. Would he manage to walk away - pretend to walk away - yet again? He needed her! Or, he could…
Then she said, her eyes big and dark: "I don't know if this was anything you envisioned with me. If it isn't, I understand that. I mean, I'm … me, and you are, well, you . I don't want to tie you up into something you really don't want."
"I want it!" it came out gruff, almost like a snarl, but he couldn't help it. Holding her gaze, he said, reluctantly: "It's your choice, Hermione. You're young, you might want different things with your life than an old, scarred Professor and a child that isn't yours."
Then she smiled, looking relieved, making something like a ray of sunlight, a radiant, blessed beacon, filter into the depths of his heart. "Oh, I know what I want. I want you. And Morgana - we'll get along. She's sweet."
Xxxx
The bond settled. Severus sighed, feeling as if a mantle of … fatherhood … fell over him. A sense of belonging, as if this child was truly a part of him.
Smiling wryly - he'd never thought this would happen to him - he met Hermione's eyes, seeing her big brown eyes become wide with wonder and amazement, the family bond encompassing her too.
Morgana squeezed both of their hands, looking inordinately satisfied. "There," she crooned, "my Mum and Dad. I feel it!"
With a small whoop, she jumped up, curling her small legs, using their hands as a swing, slinging herself back and forward, her feet barely touching the stone floor in the Head's office.
Minerva had performed the ritual, and he and Hermione had given a solemn bond to protect, care for and raise Morgana as their own child. A small, deft cut from Minerva's silver knife slit their fingers, blending their blood in a small golden bowl - the child crying out, lips quivering at the sudden sting of it as her blood dripped into the vessel - and the four of them chanted: "Parentibus aternam, facti sunt mihi heredis," Morgana having practised the very difficult words until the wording stuck perfectly.
Severus and Hermione's magical powers had risen, like a ghostly spectre of themselves standing outside their bodies, his a dark green, bordering on black, like an forest during nighttime, branches undulating in the wind, hers a blue tipped with silver, like sunlight playing on waves, or rather majestic ocean swells. Finally Morgana's magic broke free of her body too - the child gasping in delight, her eyes shining - a blazing reddish gold, rosy like the sky just after sunset, pulsing strongly with a fierce, untamed power, like the sun was about to rise again at the wrong time.
The three spectres of magic met, merged into a dazzling white light, and the three of them - their physical bodies - held hands, squeezing hard, as the magical shapes became one - split again, returning to their bodies, but forever changed, carrying a sliver of the others in them.
Severus took a deep breath. All in all, it had been a breathtaking experience, and he could feel it in his bones, the connection pulsing softly through his body, like a lingering warmth.
"This is a wondrous sight," Minerva said, her voice thick. "I have never witnessed this before, but it is…" Her voice faltered.
Euphemia nodded. "Me neither. I feel… awed almost," a look of amazement in her eyes, her worries momentarily smoothed from her face.
"It's the high magic," his witch piped up, looking as obnoxiously smug as she had always done in his classroom, but this time, he merely smiled fondly.
Hermione cleared her throat, clearly in the mood for lecturing: "Few spells activate higher magic, and most of them are bonding magic in some form. It's because these spells utilize our magical cores."
"Very good," Minerva said with a straight face, like Hermione still was her teacher's pet. He almost snorted, as Minerva threw him a sidelong glance of amusement. As if Minerva and he didn't know these things. Oh well, maybe Euphemia didn't.
Euphemia's respite from her overwhelming fear had been short, it seemed. Her expression quickly fell back into the look of worry and fear which had been seemingly fixed on her face since her arrival at Hogwarts, and she began her annoying habit of wringing her hands anew.
As Minerva served tea and cakes to celebrate the ceremony, Morgana going wild over the different sorts of cakes, he said gently to Euphemia: "I'll find him, kill him for you, Euphemia. No one should have to go through what you've been experiencing."
"Thank you," she said listlessly, "but do take care. As you know, he'll probably have company."
"Did you see anyone but him?"
"No. That is, I didn't see him either, he was Disillusioned, but I recognized his magical signature. The wards pinged more than once, so… It would be one of his friends, I think. Macnair and he were thick as thieves, you know."
"No matter that," he said firmly. "I'll see to it. You could stay here at Hogwarts for a few weeks, I'm sure I'll have sorted it out."
Weakly, she muttered: "Thank you, but I wouldn't want to intrude…"
"The castle is big enough, it shouldn't be a problem."
"I'll think about it. If I am to go abroad, I'll need to visit my Gringotts' vault…"
"Which is a bad, bad idea," he finished, "because they will be sure to keep Gringotts under surveillance. Stay here, be safe, and let us make this transition as easy as we can for Morgana."
Later, as Hermione tried to keep Morgana from eating her sixth piece of cake, patiently telling the child that she would get sick, he and Minerva checked the great Hogwarts ledger.
And correctly, Morgana's surname had been changed. Her surname was no longer the impossibly long 'Black Lestrange Riddle Voldemort', but quite simply: 'Morgana Granger-Snape'.
The adoption had worked, and in whatever official record there might exist of her, the child's name would be changed. Though he wondered: Would the child still be able to access Voldemort's own Gringotts' vaults? Had the Dark Lord hidden away any real treasures in there?
Xxxx
"I'm going with you," she said with fierce determination. "You're not doing this alone. I heard you." If the blasted man thought he'd play the hero all alone, taking down another Death Eater all by himself, he was in for a surprise. He was tied to her, now, and she wouldn't take no for an answer.
Morgana was still sleeping in Euphemias' room, while the castle was busy creating a new room for her in Severus' quarters, the stones creaking and groaning as the castle flexed its power, carving out a bedroom fit for a little princess. As unbelievable and insane as the idea seemed, tomorrow she'd go shopping for furniture, blankets and whatever a child needed, along with Severus Snape. She was sure this shopping trip would blaze a trail in the Prophet for days.
Now, the infuriating man in front of her was getting himself ready to fight Thorfinn Rowle, and in all probability, some of the man's friends as well.
He calmly continued to collect different potions - Healing potions, revival potions, antivenins, antidotes, Strengthening Solutions and a few others - securing them in pockets inside his robes, acting as if he hadn't heard her at all.
"Did you hear me?" her voice was getting shrill.
"I did. This is not a game, Hermione, and you know what I'm aiming for. There's no mercy in this. Can you even do that - kill someone in cold blood? Because that's what it takes. Are you a killer?"
She blinked for a moment, before she narrowed her eyes, taking a step closer to him.
"Severus." Her voice was low and grating, almost unrecognizable to her own ears. "I know. I know the Ministry won't catch them, and after what happened at Christmas, I know they're not even trying. I know what happened to Poppy. I know what they want to do to me - to you - and to almost anyone I know. I can handle this. But you're not going to do this alone! You want to protect me? Fine! But I want to protect you too."
He sighed. "I'm not going alone, Hermione, though your concern is … touching. I'm taking Lucius."
"Lucius? As in Lucius Malfoy?" Her voice sounded exactly as surprised as she felt on the inside. "Can you really trust him? This is all the more reason for me to go with you!"
He picked up his robes, shrugging them on, and turned to her with the well-known billowing, scowl on his face, though it hadn't intimidated her for a long while, now.
"Lucius is my friend. I trust him. I know he can take care of himself in a fight, he'll run if we're outmatched. Whereas you… You'll fight till the bitter end, won't you? That means, I will be responsible for you surviving. I'll have to drag you away from the fight if it gets too tough."
Her eyes narrowed. "Instead of fighting to the bitter end yourself."
He looked suddenly embarrassed, as if she had caught him out. "That's… right," he said finally.
"And that's exactly why I should go with you," she crowed, knowing that she had scored a major logical point in their argument. "To ensure that you don't let yourself be killed by your own, stupid pride."
He glared at her for a moment, but then he shrugged. "Alright, then. But if I say we leave, we leave. Immediately. You hear me? Will you accept my command?"
Grinning like a cat who got the cream, she nodded. "Aye, captain!"
Xxxx
"Miss Granger?" Lucius Malfoy sounded surprised, before his face morphed into a leering smirk. "Or is it Mrs. Snape, already?"
"Granger will do, thank you very much," she replied snippily, glaring at the man. Who dressed for battle like that? At the last battle, she remembered him wearing some sort of dark armour, but today, he had a green silk frock coat, looking every inch the fop.
The blonde man shrugged, saying casually: "I have no doubt, Severus will get around to proposing at some time or another. Won't you, Severus?"
She blushed a little at that, but Severus scowled at his friend. "Remember…" he said threateningly, making the other man grin even wider.
"Well, if she's going to be a permanent fixture, I suppose it's prudent to involve her in these ...activities too," Malfoy drawled. "Does she know how to handle herself? I mean, I know she took part in a battle, but did she ever go on a raid?"
"I'm right here," she pointed out angrily, "there's no need to talk over my head like I'm not there. For your information, Mr. Malfoy, I know how to sneak up on someone."
"Jolly good," the man smirked.
"Right. Stop this .. foolish… bickering." Severus said, looking irritated. "This is the plan for the raid: We know Thorfinn and Walden stay in Harborne, Birmingham. This was the home of Walden's grandmother, and he believes he has kept this home a secret, since his grandmother was a Muggle."
"A Muggle!" Malfoy was clearly shocked, and Hermione sneered at him.
"Surprised?" she sniped. "The Death Eaters weren't as pure of blood as you thought?"
"How did you know?" Malfoy asked, ignoring her completely.
"Legilimency, I've known for years," Severus said curtly, and that made Malfoy break out in a wide grin.
"I bet you blackmailed him. You did, didn't you?" Malfoy said gleefully.
Severus shrugged, but there was a small tug of his lips. "I might have done, on a few occasions."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. Right. Blackmail… She didn't know how to feel about that, considering that it was clearly wrong. Then again, she couldn't claim the high moral ground, as there was that business with Skeeter after her fourth year. Keeping someone in a jar for three months was probably not … entirely good … either.
"Never mind his grandmother," Severus continued. "It's a large, residential area, Victorian houses, occupied by affluent families. We'll dismantle his wards, enter, reset the wards, and as soon as they are back, you, Hermione, can slam down the anti-Apparition wards. Lucius, you stay Disillusioned, while Hermione and I go for the first attack. As usual, you'll use stealth to overcome them while they're busy fighting us."
"Which spells should I use?" Hermione asked, and Severus gave her a grim smile.
"Whatever you want. We're not aiming to take them alive."
She took a deep breath. "Ok. No limits, then." To protect Severus, she'd do anything. Even … that.
"No limits, little Gryffindor," Malfoy said in an annoying sing-song voice, looking even more gleeful. "You'll see how we do it in a real raid. Who knows, maybe you'll think it's more fun this way."
The three of them Apparated into Harborne, landing discreetly in a park, before walking Disillusioned through the playground full of laughing and playing children and out on the cobbled street beyond.
This was obviously an area for well-to-do Muggles, and Hermione couldn't help looking around, seeing the immaculate gardens and tall trees. This early in the year, only a few flowers bloomed in the gardens, but it was easy to see with her practised eye, both from watching her mother gardening over the years and her own experience with Herbology, that the Muggles in this area cared for their gardens. The flower beds were readied for new cuttings, rose bushes were carefully pruned, and many had small greenhouses for cultivating plants.
A very nice place to live, safe, beautiful and with spacious houses. Not a place where one would expect to find a Death Eater in hiding, not at all.
Severus led them with whispered commands of "left," "right," "forward to the next crossing," and so forth. Soon, they found themselves outside a pretty, detached brick house, sitting on a quiet street.
Silently, Severus Dismantled the wards, picking apart traps and detectors. Hermione stood still, feeling her heart hammering in her chest. She was nervous, there was no doubt about it, and … she hadn't been in a duel since the war ended. Was Severus right when he wanted to keep her out of this? Were her skills honed enough? Would she come out of this fight unharmed, or would she suffer life-threatening injuries and curses? Would Severus survive?
Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders, planting her feet in the ground. She was here to make sure Severus survived, if it was the last thing she did. That was why she was here, to protect the man who was seemingly willing to sacrifice his life and reputation for what he thought was right. She wouldn't let him go down that path again. Today, she was saving Severus Snape.
"There," Severus finally breathed, "I think it's done. Double-check, will you?"
Both Malfoy and Hermione responded to the question, probing the gates, the garden and the house for hidden spells.
"Nothing," Malfoy concluded, but Hermione wasn't so sure. There was something - a whisper of magic, layered deeply in the structure of the house...
"No," she said, "there's more. Interwoven, maybe residing in the cellar…"
Probing deeper, she found a nasty little ward, designed to incarcerate anyone who entered without Macnair.
"I'll see to it," Severus said gruffly, and another five minutes went by, as he struggled to destroy the ward. At last, it dissipated, leaving a sour stench of iron to the air, and Lucius muttered: "Blood ward."
Carefully, they entered the garden, moving slowly towards the green, wooden door. Lucius picked the lock with a simple, whispered "Alohomora ."
The house was lovely on the inside, with expensive furniture and paintings on the walls, and the evening sun fell softly through the windows, making dust motes dance in the light. The Macnair home was pretty, she had to give him that.
Whispering, she asked: "Did Macnair live here?"
Severus snorted a small laugh. "No, not at all. His gran lived here before she died. He's just kept it as a hideaway, for sentimental reasons. To my knowledge, not even his wife knows he's a Half-blood."
Lucius Malfoy sniggered. "I wish I knew sooner. Imagine what fun we could have, taunting him, Severus?"
The other man chuckled, a rather sinister chuckle, if Hermione had to say so. "Who says I didn't? Every time the Dark Lord held a speech, I used to ask him how his gran was. He was appalled that I had found out. It was … easy to make deals with him."
"It's a good home, though," Malfoy said reluctantly. "Shame about freezing the paintings, though. An Unfreezing Charm never livens them up properly. There's always something woodenly about the way they move afterwards."
If the man hadn't been Disillusioned, Hermione would have goggled at him. Didn't he know Muggle paintings and photographs were still images? Was it actually possible that Lucius Malfoy knew so little about the Muggle world?
"Sssh," Severus said. "I need to reset the wards. Will you be quiet for a moment? Lucius, since this is a Muggle area, it will be prudent if you set up a soundproof Notice-Me-Not as soon as they arrive. If the house is destroyed, the Muggles will explain it as gas leaks, so we don't need to avoid any damage to the house."
They waited for almost two hours, and Hermione busied herself by going through the bookshelves, while the two wizards were chatting quietly.
Then, the lock clicked, the door opened, and Macnair came sauntering in, followed by Rowle and what simply had to be Vincent Crabbe's father. The former Ministry Executioner was much older than the two other men, possibly in his sixties, looking grizzled and thin. The two other men seemed to be in their prime, though they too looked like life on the run might have been rough, lines from premature aging riddling their brows.
Hermione breathed out slowly. Three of them, when they had been expecting two. It was a good thing she had joined in. The eagerness for battling, for taking down these vile people made her magic tingle, and she slowly flexed her hand, loosening the grip on her wand, relaxing her muscles. Be ready. Be smart. Be strong, she told herself. Remember what they did to Poppy. Remember what they want to do to you, and to Severus.
"Merlin, I'd love to bring up a bottle or two from your cellar," Crabbe said, glancing at Macnair.
The other man shrugged. "Suit yourself. There's enough to go around still."
Crabbe whistled as he went into the kitchen, presumably to go downstairs.
Rowle lowered himself into the sofa carefully, tugging off his boots. "Fucking Muggle shit," he mumbled. "Doesn't adjust to my feet, does it?"
Macnair snorted. "Told you, didn't I? If I said it once, I said it a hundred times. You shouldn't go grabbing whatever boots you fancied in there, measure your damned feet first, I said! Don't complain to me when you don't listen."
The younger man just grumbled, massaging his obviously aching feet.
Hermione was almost bouncing on the balls of her feet. When would Severus start the attack? It was perfect, with Crabbe downstairs, giving them a head start…
And then Lucius Malfoy slammed down the Notice-Me-Not, making the other men blink in surprise.
Shooting up the Anti-Apparition wards, covering the entire premises, the blast of magic running through her veins like liquid fire, she let her Glamour fall seconds after Severus', her Shield up, setting it to rotate like Severus had taught the students in their class on the Vir Mulier Scuto.
The two men yelled, both of them shooting up from their chairs, wands bristling.
She threw an Expulso at Rowle, which he easily whisked away, sending the curse careening into the dresser filled with china, breaking the porcelain into shards and splinters, covering the room.
"Hey!" Macnair yelled angrily, shooting something viciously yellow at Hermione. She deflected it, her Shield holding admirably, but the spell seemed to etch a hole, like it was acidic in nature, as it hit the wall behind her.
Severus threw something black and horrendously large at Macnair, making the man scream pitifully as it engulfed him, and Rowle gasped, sending a large swathe of something pink towards his friend, piercing the dark cloud.
Macnair emerged, looking severely shaken, hands trembling around his wand, but he shot a strong, red beam straight at Severus, which he deflected lazily.
"Trying to Stun me, are you? You have to do better than that," Severus drawled, not even breaking a sweat, as he again cast a spell Hermione couldn't recognize, a puffy dark grey cloud shooting out towards the two wizards.
They coughed, both trying to bat away the cloud, and Rowle spat out: "We'll get you, you can't keep the girl to yourself. She deserves to be raised as our Lord's daughter, not by fucking Mudblood-loving scum like you and your friends!"
Anger rose inside her, uncontrollably, at hearing the slur, and she threw a Reductor at Rowle, hitting his knee-caps, making the man buckle and fall. Quickly, silently, he was bound and Petrified, the work of the still invisible Lucius.
Macnair tried to Apparate away, putting strain on her wards, but Severus advanced on him, striking him with a red beam, making the man scream and twitch. With a sinking feeling, Hermione realized it was the Cruciatus . Lucius repeated his work, tying up the old man with the Incarcerous and a Petrificus Totalis, and Severus let up the Unforgivable.
There was a brief silence, and then the drawing room exploded.
Hermione was thrown into the wall, her shoulders meeting the hard surface with a jarring impact, and she saw Severus falling as well.
Gasping, feeling disoriented, dizzy, not being able to get to her feet right away, she saw Crabbe enter the room with a malicious grin on his face.
"Forgot about me, did you," he mumbled, raising his wand again, ready to cast. Then Lucius revealed himself, as he shouted " Avada Kedavra!"
An instant green jet of light left his wand, and Crabbe crumbled like a broken doll. The silence was ringing, until Severus wheezed from his position on the floor. "A good one, Lucius."
They were all looking worse for the wear, clothes torn by the explosion, covered in dust with bloody scratches, but still the three of them couldn't help grinning. Relief. To survive another day, though this was a near-miss. Hermione couldn't help it, a small, hysterical giggle left her, turning into a near-sob at the end. So close…
Malfoy arched a dusty eyebrow, and raised his wand again. "Not done yet," he muttered, and the green light erupted again, making Hermione freeze, while both Rowle and Macnair slumped, bodies relaxing into a pose of deathly quiet.
"There," Lucius Malfoy said, smoothing the torn edges of his frock coat, "it's time for the fun part. How do we deliver to Skeeter today? I have in mind to cut them up like steaks."
She couldn't help wrinkling her nose, as she slowly climbed to her feet. "That's … disgusting."
"That's the point," Malfoy drawled. "I rather enjoy the idea of Skeeter feeling nauseous."
"Amen to that," she mumbled, still feeling almost light-headed, like she wasn't quite herself, "but it's also going in the newspaper. I don't want to see that for breakfast."
Malfoy snorted. "How would you like it? Present them with a pretty wrapping and bows?"
"Maybe…" she said thoughtfully, "wrapping isn't a bad idea. We could mummify them. Like Egyptian mummies, you know."
Malfoy tapped his lips, eyes gleaming with interest. "Could be a fun thing. How would you do it?"
Hermione knew, she should feel bad about this, but … She felt oddly giddy, like she was running a fever, her head empty, like a balloon. Still, it was better than cutting them up, wasn't it? Besides, they were already dead.
"It's easy. I just combine a Shrinking and Drying spell, like this…." she pulled her wand, pointing at the body of Crabbe. An orange light spun out of her wand, desiccating the man's body, before she Conjured wrappings, tying him up in white bandages. Her rational mind almost jolted to life by the horror of her actions, and a weak explanation formed in her head: It's the shock. She wasn't herself. This was a natural reaction to a life-threatening situation. Being near hysteric, her usual inhibitions lowered, it was no wonder she did things she'd normally never do. Or … would she? Was she really capable of this?
Shaking her head, she decided to examine that later.
Malfoy grinned in delight. "My goodness Severus, I understand why you like her!"
She had never thought she'd ever care for the approval of a Malfoy, but the open enthusiasm for her wicked little spell was … catching, even in her state.
Severus, however, looked somewhat shocked. "I don't even want to know how you learned that," he muttered.
Xxxx
"Rise, Severus."
The man fancying himself his new master sounded less than pleased, but Severus kept his face blank. They both knew, the new leader of the Dark was no Voldemort. He could never hope to best Severus in combat.
This time, though, he knew he had taken it too far. His credibility was on the line.
"Our deal was to terminate those who were a threat to both me and you, not exterminating the whole lot of them. Rookwood and Dolohov, for sure, and Mulciber and Jugson might perhaps be … furthering their own interests more than ours, but now I question your judgement. Rowle wasn't a threat, nor was Nott, Macnair or Crabbe. Those men … they were loyal to us - to me ."
"Are you so sure about that?" Severus said calmly. "You are no Legilimens, whereas I…"
"Yes, I know!" barked the other man, palming his wand, though Severus knew he'd never dare to attack. Not in the open .
His identity had been a surprise to Severus. Never in the Inner Circle, merely a Ministry spy who later on got a foothold in strategic decisions. He didn't know the Death Eaters intimately, and he had no idea about the alliances formed in the past. The Dark Lord had welcomed internal power struggles, cheering on strategic alliances and even straight out warfare, seeing it as a way to weed out the weak. People had died during those skirmishes, while others, like Severus, had thrived. He had his own Inner Circle of trusted friends, but this man knew nothing about these things.
Now, this man had been 'elected' leader because of his position: Being capable of ensuring that no Death Eaters on the run were caught on his watch. As if the Death Eaters ever held elections or voted over anything - the man was right to be paranoid, fearing uprisings and instability.
He should, however, have been more paranoid, because just as with the position of Headmaster, Severus found himself bored by playing second fiddle. It was time to take the reins. His friends, the true Inner Circle, expected it of him. And, he'd do right by Morgana, giving her the life she deserved. She was his own daughter, now, and he'd protect her like her own father would have done.