Summary: SSHG, AU, EWE, After the war, Hermione goes to Australia to restore her parents' memories, gets disowned, attacked by a wild animal while crying in the bush, and comes home with her magic now downright plucky. The solution? Training with Severus Snape. No problem, right? As far as she knows, he just hates the very air she breathes. (M for safety)

Beta Love: Dragon and the Rose. TheFrenchPress. Dutchgirl01

A/N: It's hot, muggy, and horrible. I have no AC. Doubly horrid.

Displaced

A story by CorvusDraconis

Chapter Two

"Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we fear less."

Marie Curie

I woke up with leaves in my hair, dirt under my fingernails, and some great beast sharing my bed with me. I was cuddled between its legs, my face pressed into its furry side, and it was snoring away like it had no plan to leave.

It groomed my hair, and now it's looking even more unruly than usual. I'm laying in bed writing because I can't move otherwise. I've been trapped by this creature, but Walter doesn't seem concerned. I've never seen anything like it before.

I'd say the front end looks almost like a jaguar in shape only, but the rest seems to be a mishmash of parts put together by a committee. It has a scaled, prehensile tail, webbed rear feet that looked almost eagle-ish if it weren't for the webbing that seem to imply at least significantly aquatic—

Oh and—

Okay, so it is definitely male.

Colour me embarrassed.

I had to Accio my journal, but I can do little else at the moment but cuddle down and write. My new friend, whatever he is, seems to desire my company for the morning.

My magic refuses to rescue me, and I wonder if Minerva will come here looking for me if I don't show up to our appointment for tea.

Would Severus wonder about me if I didn't show up for lessons?

I guess I'll just sketch my new bedfellow and try to look him up once he tires of me—or eats me.

Gods, what a way to die.

"You look like you were trampled by hippogriffs, Granger," Snape said as he appraised her with a slight frown.

"I had a long morning," Hermione muttered, waving her hand dismissively as she sipped her tea.

"Do tell."

"I woke up to a large beast in my bed that apparently wanted cuddles."

Snape eyed her with an arched brow. "Mmhmm."

Hermione slumped. "Seriously. It was huge."

"Are you trying to describe something through the use of roundabout language?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "NO! There was an actual beast in my bed this morning."

"Does this happen very often?"

"No, this would be my first time post-Lethifold bonding," Hermione muttered.

Severus rubbed his chin with his fingers. "Perhaps this is some sort of Care of Magical Creatures hazing we never knew about. Silvanus never mentioned it, and Hagrid was probably ecstatic about having more friends."

Hermione threw up her hands and sighed. "Did Hogwarts haze you as Headmaster?"

"I fear I did not notice between a war and a megalomaniac trying to murder the Wizarding World."

Hermione winced. "Right, sorry. That was a horrible question."

Snape shook his head. "No, the question was sound, but the circumstances of my tenure as Headmaster was hardly typical. Perhaps, Minerva could tell you if she had experienced any such oddities during her transition."

Hermione sipped her tea thoughtfully. "I will, I think. Thank you, Severus."

"Whatever for?"

"For being a friend," she said with a smile. "I'm not sure what I expected when I came back to Hogwarts, but I'm glad I've gotten to know you better."

His eyebrows creased together as he grimaced, seemingly unsure of what to say to her. "You are," he said after a pause, "welcome."

Hermione watched as the Headmistress' brows knit together with concern.

"Hazing?" she said. "I do not believe such a phenomenon has occurred during my tenure thus far."

Hermione shrugged. "Severus seems to think I have been beset upon by strange occurrences," she said. "My settling magic makes it hard to tell what is my own fault and what is caused by something else."

Minerva's expression softened. "It must be difficult to find your place here after having practically grown up here wearing a different hat, as it were."

"It's helped having your friendship," Hermione said. "You have made the transition much less straining than I expected."

Minerva's lips twitched a smile. "You deserve to be happy here after all that went on. I think Hogwarts knows this too. If you are being—hazed, as it were, then I do not think the school would be unkind to you. Malicious pranks and such are the tools of foolish humans—not the school. The staircases being one of those rare exceptions of strange neutrality that can go either way. More a sort of indifference than actual ill intent."

Hermione smiled. "I do feel quite welcomed by the school," she confessed. "There is no sense of hostility from the school at least. I am a bit nervous when I think about the students returning, however."

"You will be fine, Hermione," Minerva said. "We've needed a–" Minerva trailed off. "–competent teacher who truly cares for the safety of the students and staff. Hagrid, bless his huge hairy toes, always meant well enough, but meaning well and actually doing well… the latter was hardly his forté. As a half-giant, he was utterly oblivious to the harm many things could do to others, having never personally experienced the fragility of the human condition fully."

Hermione smiled. "I have found that there are many truly misunderstood creatures out there," she said. "Working for the Department for Regulation of Magical Creatures did expose me to the underestimated as well as those unfairly maligned, but—I would hardly wish to expose the children to an unbonded Lethifold, either."

Walter rustled a bit at that, and Hermione stroked him reassuringly. "They, too, are greatly misunderstood, but they also eat the unworthy."

"I'd imagine that quite a few people would rather create outlandish stories claiming that all Lethifolds are murderous beasts than admit that they were wholly unsuccessful at making friends with one," Minerva said with a chuckle.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. "To be sure. It takes a pretty hardy Lethifold to leave the tropical climates they are born in to seek out that special bondmate, from what Amelia tells me. The wild ones that stay in the rainforest biomes they prefer are usually younger and more—selfish? I'm not quite sure if that's the right word. Self-absorbed but not in a narcissistic way."

Minerva laughed. "There are no Gilderoy Lockhart Lethifolds?"

Hermione's eye twitched at that. "Merlin's hairy ears, no. I dearly hope not. I am not an expert on Lethifolds, but that horrifies me."

"So, which magical creatures do you need me to authorise for your lessons this upcoming year, Hermione?" Minerva asked.

"I would like to get authorisation to introduce all the children in their first year to the Forbidden Forest. The centaur, the dangers, and the other denizens, both neutral and dangerous. I think with proper introductions, the forest will be less of a tempting taboo that seduces the curious and lures them into danger. I think that most children, including myself during my time as one, are totally oblivious to centaur culture and completely unprepared for the predators and dangers that await for some unwary prey to walk right into trouble."

"That sounds like an excellent idea, Hermione," Minerva said. "Magorian already told me that he's adopted you into the herd."

Hermione slumped, chuckling. "They won't let me forget that I conjured them their own Stonehenge in the middle of the forest."

Minerva laughed. "Think of the great reduction in travel costs," she joked.

Hermione snorted. "Well, according to Firenze, their species assisted in the creation of the original. It was a time when there was a true peace and equality between the species—something they lost as humans forgot their connection to the Earth's cycles."

Minerva nodded. "I think that the focus on the Forbidden Forest and centaur culture is a great idea for first years, Hermione. I'm glad you think it's important enough to make a priority for a class to start in the first year rather than waiting for the third as an elective. The centaur, too, will certainly appreciate being made precedence. Usually, they are not put first in consideration."

"There are many curious young foals as well," Hermione said. "It will give the elders the ability to oversee interactions on their home ground, and if there are any misunderstandings, it will happen when it can be corrected immediately, such as calling them half-horses or beasts. Their classification, officially, is thankfully changing due to advocacy and understanding that they do not wish to be classified in the same group as vampires, which is also a mutual feeling from the vampires. What the new classifications will be, however, remain in debate. Change comes incredibly slow at the Ministry, but the agreement was made. They just have to figure it out before someone snaps and kills someone during parlay."

Minerva snorted into her teacup. "Indeed." She tilted her head. "Any other changes you wish to see?"

"I would like to focus on the other denizens, such as the Merfolk, third year. I'd like to think that two years is enough to get incoming students acclimated to the biggest threats to their safety. I will, of course, weave in things such as Whomping Willow tree respect and generalised protocol around Venomous Tentaculas, perhaps having a co-teaching day with Pomona. Third year can be the more aquatic focus, and by then they should have learned the bubble-head charm, yes?"

Minerva shook her head and twitched a smile. "That is a sixth-year charm, dear," she said. "You might have known it much sooner, but it is normally taught in sixth year."

Hermione frowned. "Oh dear, well—"

Minerva hummed in contemplation. "I think maybe Filius would not be opposed to teaching it earlier in the rationale of safety. I will speak to him. The giant squid can only be so vigilant."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you, Minerva. I think then that in the fourth year, the class can continue as an elective, and maybe more people will be interested in it by then as they know what to expect. I can then focus on the more exotic beasts and practicum. We could have field trips and such to different places, such as Gringotts. Perhaps Charlie would not be opposed to an occasional weekend of dragonlore, and the goblins would most definitely appreciate being a focus. Their culture and society is complicated, and it could take a good year of study just to break the surface for students. I might do a few basics for first years as well, just to help keep misunderstandings to a minimum."

"It sounds like you already have an excellent basic curriculum plan established, Hermione," Minerva said with approval. "Please put the details to parchment so I can present it to the Board of Governors, and I will personally see to it that it's approved."

Minerva's expression was, as Hermione expected, the epitome of feline determination.

Hermione chuckled as Walter insistently tugged at her, attempting to pull her out of her chair.

"Thank you, Minerva. I think Walter is trying to tell me that I'm going to be late to my lessons with Severus," she said.

Minerva shook her head in amusement at the cheeky Lethifold's antics. "Go on, my dear. Have a good afternoon."

Hermione nodded in agreement and exited the Headmistress' office, Walter impressively billowing out behind her.

Minerva chuckled. "Now there are two of them billowing about the school."

I'm not sure if it is a direct result of being adopted by the centaur, but my magic seems to be more manageable whenever I'm in the forest. It's not that my magic is actually refusing to do anything, but short of that one case of spontaneous Stonehenge, it seems more content to let me do the spellwork rather than taking things out of my hands.

Severus seems to think it's about my control over my emotions now improving and that the forest is, at least for me, a comfort.

He could be right. He does tend to be, and he doesn't ever let me forget it.

Git.

He was not at all surprised that Minerva liked my changes to the curriculum, and that startled me. He'd always been such a stickler for the way things were done back when I was a student, but I keep forgetting it was a very different time back then. Even in just a few years time, things have changed so much.

I've changed, so it's only logical to think others would too.

I laugh because I know there are some people that do not change at all. Madam Pince hadn't changed a lick. Even as faculty, she hounds me to make sure her books are not being harmed in any way.

You'd think after so many years, she'd know that I am not a book abuser. Maybe she thinks I've become one. I don't know. She's an enigma. Severus says she's been like that since he was a student, and that's saying something.

We were laughing at anagrams and the entire "I am Lord Voldemort" versus "Tom Marvolo Riddle". I came up with "I'm a Prince" for Irma Pince." Severus nearly lost his tea.

He said that his mother's maiden name was "Prince" and that she'd come from a long line of Purebloods. He told me some of the stories his mum used to tell him as a young boy to keep his spirits up when his father was being a prick, not to mention a rather less than appropriate male role model.

When I heard about his father, my magic decided to turn the Whomping Willow into a Whomping Lemon tree and it proceeded to rain a monsoon of citrus down upon us.

We're going to have plenty of fresh lemonade for months.

On the bright side, the lemonade was superb.

Severus commented that his pitiful excuse for a father had an odd way of "inspiring" people.

I'm not sure he meant transforming a decades-old Whomping Willow into a citrus willow in mind when he said to inspire.

The centaur were happy to receive a few bushels of fresh lemons for their culinary pleasure. Bane was pleased to report that they had already enjoyed lemonade, lemon-herb roasted fish, and the mares had created a zesty lemon vinaigrette for their famous wild greens salad.

A big win for centaur relations.

Win for Whomping Willow relations, too, albeit indirectly.

Severus and I spent a few hours just reading by the lakeside, and I can't help but revel in the sheer pleasure of being able to enjoy reading in the company of others. Merlin knows that it was never like that with Harry and Ron.

The lessons with him are getting steadily harder as he amps up the level of difficulty, but he never fails to give me sufficient time to recover. Once, Walter got a little too overprotective and unexpectedly engulfed Severus' head. I had to pry the Lethifold off and assure him that Severus was not trying to torture me intentionally.

Severus laughed, and I can't help but think I like the sound of it and the way his age seems to melt away from his face when he does.

Walter got a treat of a few extra drumsticks for that revelation.

Molly stopped by to visit and ask how I was doing today, and it started off well enough. It ended, however, with her inquiring about myself and Ronald and the so-called "misunderstanding" that had led to him being thrown headlong into the DoM's infamous brain tank.

I tried to tell her, yet again, that Ronald and I are not a thing and will not be a thing, nor am I entertaining the idea that we will ever become a thing, but it's like she's simply bound and determined to force us together.

Walter tried to eat her.

Then I had to rescue Molly.

Can I admit I might have wanted to wait a few seconds, minutes perhaps, longer before reacting to the situation?

I knew I had a few more moments before Walter actually started to eat her.

Severus said he's been a very bad influence on me if my tolerance for the Weasley family has decreased this much, but I assured him that if anything, experience has taught me intolerance.

He laughed again.

Oh, that laugh of his.

It makes me feel warm and tingly inside.

I got a Howler from Ron telling me off for letting my disgusting "thing" have a go at "eating his mum."

Severus wrote him a letter.

Well, more like a single sentence.

"If you have a grievance with Miss Granger, I will be happy to meet you on the duelling platform at the Ministry to sort the issue out on her behalf."

Severus claimed that it was because the last time Ron and I were together my magic tried to murder him indirectly, so it was the least he could do to have it officially sanctioned on the duelling platform.

Ronald hasn't dared to attempt parlay since.

I suppose I should be horrified, but I can't seem to muster up enough emotion to actually give a damn.

Occlumency success? Or is it just me finally being too bloody tired to care anymore? I'm honestly not sure.

My beast-friend is back again. It's been pretty regular for him to show up while I'm sleeping, and it's almost always after I've had one of those forest romp dreams. I wake up snuggled up against him like he's just the comfiest pillow in the world, and he doesn't seem to mind. The price, however, is my poor hair.

I think it's beginning to gain sentience.

I could swear a lock of it was stirring the milk in my tea instead of my hand.

He leaves almost always after I give up and go back to sleep, and on my second awakening, he's gone again.

I still have no idea what in Merlin's name he is.

He feels safe, though. Familiar, somehow.

I think if he'd wanted me dead, I'd have been smothered and attacked long before now.

Hagrid never mentioned anything like him, and I highly doubt he would have not mentioned something he would have considered totally brag-worthy.

I can't help but think that I'm safe with him.

I just hope I'm not turning into Hagrid thinking I'm safe when everyone else believes me in danger.

"This may make me seem a bit ignorant, but how is it that you came to know so much about settling magic?" Hermione asked as they sipped lemonade by the lake together.

Snape stilled until he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said apologetically. "I'll butt out."

Snape shook his head. "No, it is simply a long story. In short, I was cursed by one of Hagrid's early acquisitions. It attacked me, and it's magic was at war with mine for many years."

"How old were you when it—" Hermione trailed off frowning. "How is it that Hagrid even kept his job after that?"

"I was in my teens. My third year as a student. The very first Care of Magical Creatures class I ever had. And my last as well," he said with a sigh. "He was not fired because the circumstances on how the creature cursed me was because of a prank set up by a fellow student. They did not blame him, specifically, for putting me in danger.

"And the ones who pranked you?"

"They were considered children and thus not held responsible for the outcome. The staff was not aware that it was any more than a mere prank that got out of hand."

"That's bollocks," Hermione growled, with Walter rustling in apparent agreement.

"It was what was considered correct at the time," Snape said.

"So you were cured?"

"No."

Hermione's eyes widened at that.

Snape tilted his head, cracking the bones in his neck. "It was why I learned Occlumency at such a young age," he replied. "Dumbledore taught me in order to help me stabilise my magic. The curse had an odd side effect that made it extremely difficult to counter. It was only my young age that prevented the most extreme parts of it from taking effect immediately, and by the time it did, the curse was diverted by other significant changes in my life."

Snape startled as Hermione's hand grasped his in comfort.

"I'm sorry you have had the worst sort of treatment, Severus," she said. "You deserve better. You deserve to be happy. I can only hope that whatever your curse is, you might feel comfortable enough to confide in me. I won't respect you any less because of something you have no control over."

Snape looked down at her hand, and for a moment his hand moved to cover hers. It hovered above it for a moment, and then he stiffened and stood up, shaking it off. "I deserved my curse, Granger," he said bitterly. "I can only be glad that it hasn't killed someone else as a result of my stupid mistakes."

He swept from the room, his robes billowing in his wake.

Hermione sighed. "I'm an idiot."

My beast-friend is back again. This time he jumped through the open window and flopped right down next to me as I was reading in bed. Normally, I never see him arrive or leave, so it was admittedly a bit startling.

His presence was comforting after my blunder with Severus, and I think I may have drizzled snot over the poor beast as I had a good ugly cry over the situation.

I have no idea why it bothers me so much that he'd push me away that way. It's not like he's ever been easily approachable. A few months of working together doesn't exactly give me the right to assume that we have a solid friendship.

It felt like we might have had something.

I can't help but think we have a lot in common. It felt real, that closeness. I guess I'm a horrible judge of character. I had a crush on the likes of Ron and Gilderoy Lockhart of all people, and the one person who showed me true interest, I dismissed as being not for me before I even really gave him a chance. I'm obviously total rubbish when it comes to relationships.

I should probably keep my friendships strictly to Lethifolds and other non-human beasts. At least then, I won't have to take the risk of developing complicated unrequited feelings.

It's so stupid of me to think that someone like Severus could ever—

Idiot.

Why does this have to hurt so much?

Woke up covered in leaves and mud again and if it weren't for that completely starkers. Ugh!

My journal got a bit clawed up. I'm not really sure what happened after I went to sleep. My beast-friend seems to be quite calm—hardly the type of personality that would savage my journal in a fit of temper.

Waking up nestled next to that radiant heater of a body felt pretty nice, though.

Safe.

Natural, even.

I'm sure it's not even remotely natural to most people, but it just feels like when Walter wraps snugly around me. It just feels right, somehow.

Why can't relationships with people be as comfortable?

Maybe that is the problem. We think too much or not enough.

I'm thinking too much now as well.

My magic just immolated a poor dragonfly that was buzzing around my head. I think I heard it scream.

I'm such a sodding mess.

The lessons today went rather strangely.

Clinical.

Cold.

I tore through them with even more zeal when I no longer felt that calming connection to Severus' magic.

I felt him pushing to get past my barriers, and for a moment I knew he had seen that I had feelings—

I shut everything down, and my magic jerked him up violently and hurled him into Black Lake.

The giant squid politely plucked him out and deposited him back on the bank.

I didn't see his reaction.

I fled like a coward.

I couldn't face his scorn. His ridicule. His anger.

It's bad enough I'd come to care for him, but to know the extent of his mockery for my feelings—

I could not bear it.

I'm so stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid girl.

"Miss Granger—"

"Please, just go away!" Hermione slid down the side of her hut wall, cradling her head in her hands

"H-Hermione, please."

"I don't need to be told what a fool I am. Just leave me alone!"

"Mis—Grang—Hermione! Please! I don't think you're a fool. If anything—I'm the fool. I didn't think—Please let me in? Talking to a door is very frustrating."

Silence.

Severus thunked his head against the door of her hut and groaned. His wet hair dripped and his teeth were chattering miserably.

The door clicked, and he felt it give way slowly.

Severus stepped in as the fire roared in the hearth. He saw a privacy screen and some towels.

Sighing gratefully, he made use of both and stripped off the wet clothes and toweled off in front of the heat, grateful for the less magical comfort of towel and heat to magic. The drying charm, while effective in a pinch, tended to dry out absolutely everything, and it made his skin crack for a week—something that when working with potions ingredients was not remotely desirable.

"Thank you," he said quietly as he finished dressing. He used the towel to set his hair to rights or at least avoid dripping messily.

He turned, running his hand through his damp hair as he placed the towel by the hearth to dry. "Hermione, I had no idea you felt anything for me. I am not a likeable sort of man. Had you been anyone else, I would have thought you hopelessly deluded, but I know you are—sincere."

He stared into the silent dark of the room, barely able to see the shape of Hermione wrapped tightly in Walter, in the darkest corner she could find.

"I was not lying when I said I was cursed," he said grimly. "I am not capable of a normal relationship. If we were to have… intimate relations, I would be incapable of focusing on anyone else. There could be no trial run. No coming back from it. You would be my everything until I or you, died."

The silence, he realised, as much as once wished for it in his life, was maddening. She was the last person he wanted to be silent in that moment.

"You're cursed to be monogamous?" Hermione's voice whispered in the dark. Her voice was still unsteady with emotion.

"I think what I am cursed to be is—very monogamous in nature, yes."

"Are you?" her voice was steadier but still heavy with emotion.

Severus blinked. "I believe I am, yes. I have not—Merlin, this is difficult—I have not ever had anyone upon which to focus, Hermione. Between a war and its resultant dangers, a school, a spy's life—I have been the furthest thing from a courting man."

"But you'd want to?"

"Focus on someone?"

"Court," Hermione said into the dark. "Me."

Snape took in a sharp breath. "If I have not already ruined things between us, yes. I would—I would want to court you, yes. We could become close, but ultimately my curse wishes to permanently bind me to someone. To be my anchor to humanity. To be my mate. I cannot even tell you what I am, for it has long been buried, quelled by a complete lack of prospects and unending war. But to have you close—it would undoubtedly awaken."

Severus grimaced painfully. "If this is not a possibility you are willing to entertain, I beg you to please reconsider a relationship with me. I would rather not know what it is like to have someone share my life only to have it taken for a reason I cannot control."

Hermione walked out of the dark of the room to stand before him. Her eyes were red from tears, but she looked him in the eyes. "Do you think I could be so shallow, Severus?"

Severus shook his head. "No. But this is no ordinary deal breaker. It is a curse that wishes to be shared."

Hermione closed her eyes. "May I touch you?"

Severus shivered. "You may."

Her palm touched his cheek, her fingers weaving into the hair behind his ear. The brush of her magic came with it, and he shuddered in the flood of intense pleasure that it awakened. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close with a hiss and a groan, his face twisted in a pleasure that was very close to pain.

"I would face this curse together if what we have is meant to last," she said. She brushed his hair away from his eyes. "I would not be so cruel as to condemn you without even knowing you."

Snape's eyes closed. "And if you get to know me and then find a reason to condemn me?"

"I suppose I run the risk of much the same if you get to know me," she replied, the heaviness in her soul seeming to weigh her down.

Severus frowned, his hand raising to touch her, but for a moment he hesitated. He saw her wither, taking his hesitancy as evidence of what she perceived as rejection.

"I want to touch you," he whispered, both desperate for her to understand the reason behind his pause and tentative in his desire not to be dragged further down by his curse. "But your magic, the feel of you, even now, is like a siren's song, Hermione. I fear what even this single touch could do to me. To you."

He shuddered, willing himself into control. "The simple act of having you close completely undoes me. Even now I can feel the storm moving inside me. Desires that I always believed were never meant for one such as I."

Hermione shook her head. "You deserve care, Severus. To share your life with someone. Your magic and aspirations. The good things and the bad that are a part of life." Hermione rolled her head around, the slight dull pop of bones signalling the release of pressure. "I must keep that in mind whenever I remember my parents. The good times we once shared as a family—even though I shall never be a part of their lives again."

"I do not wish to inflict you with my curse," Severus said, his hands balled into fists. "You do not deserve to be burdened with my unwanted baggage."

"We both have more than our own share of— baggage," Hermione said sadly. "Perhaps, we can work on that together?" She looked skyward, her eyes searching the rafters of the hut as though it were a complex equation to be solved. "If I have learned anything at all in my induction into the world of magical creatures, it is that many beasts simply wish to be left alone. If your inner beast craves companionship, then the need must be genuine. It is simply what we, in our humanity, read into it that sometimes makes things confusing."

She tilted her head. "The werewolf is a lonely beast that craves companionship. Its desires are twisted because it is caught between wolf and man, neither fully beast nor human. The curse is a disease that twists the mind and body into violence, yet I have always wondered why they do not attack wolves as they do humans. Why does the wolf's anger always seem to stem from the human condition? Is it because they are so desperate to gain the companionship of their own kind, or is it simply the anger of the wolf that lashes out at the human being, perhaps blaming us for its tormented half-life? It would almost make sense as the Wolfsbane potion essentially puts the wolf to sleep and allows the human mind to surface in the body of the werewolf. But how strongly the wolf must struggle to surface during those three days a month that it takes an entire week of potion just to calm the beast!"

Hermione sighed. "You might see it as a curse, Severus, but I would like a chance to decide that for myself."

Severus closed the gap between them, his jaw set as he reached out to touch her face, this time succeeding in the touch of skin against skin. He shivered, struggling not to collapse under the intensity of sensation it poured into his mind and body.

"I would court you, Hermione Granger, if it pleases you." His voice was barely a whisper as his eyes betrayed his nervousness.

Hermione pressed her head against his buttonline. "It would please me very much."

Severus teased me about the beast drool hairdo I was sporting this morning. I told him he should try it out. Beast drool makes you young.

Mum always used to say that dog drool makes you younger. The thought amused me.

My magic seems to have been more content as of late. Ever since—

Well, ever since Severus and I came to an agreement to attempt a relationship beyond that of colleagues.

It feels more comfortable around him. My magic. Me.

As odd as this sounds, it feels natural, like how Walter or my nameless unknown beast friend in my life. It feels—uncomplicated.

Mind you, words always seem to make the uncomplicated more complicated, either the lack or too many.

That's the humanity talking, I'm sure.

I am still having the dreams, but they seem less frantic and more romping through the brush for the sheer joy of living. Maybe all that beast drool on my head is tainting my dreams.

The drills with Severus are getting easier. The tension is gone where there used to be this barrier that neither of us knew was there until it wasn't.

Minerva had tea with me and told me that the new curriculum changes have been approved. That's a relief.

My magic seemed to agree because the green transformed into a glorious blanket of bonny Scottish heather.

Minerva was overjoyed.

I guess my magic isn't quite settled yet.

Minerva had to come to my door to find out why I missed the meeting with Harry today. She found me pinned underneath the beast and an over-snuggly Lethifold.

The expression on her and Harry's faces—

I could have died on the spot.

Harry looked super nervous when the beast stood between him and me, growling at him with hackles raised.

I was grateful for the diversion so I could get some clothes on. The moment I was ready, however, the beast disappeared out the window.

Minerva was laughing and said maybe there was something to my hazing suggestion.

I told her that maybe the beasts were hazing Harry instead.

Harry was all flustered.

I had to admit that was far more amusing than listening to Harry moan about his marriage versus his job versus wanting a family but Ginny wanting to play Quidditch a bit longer before settling down.

It only took all of twenty minutes for him to start in on me settling down and giving Ronald another go.

It took all of seventeen seconds for my magic to gift him with a fine pair of antlers and a beard down to his knees.

In a rather fetching shade of candy floss pink that Dolores Umbridge would envy.

Harry then began to swear as his oddly prehensile beard proceeded to undo his trousers and give him a wedgie.

Severus arrived right on time for morning tea and saw it all, much to his amusement and Harry's mortification.

He declared my magic settled on the spot.

I'm not sure it's settling for anything anymore.

The centaur were quite pleased with my plans to include them in the first and second year classes, and Firenze and Bane volunteered to be the herd's main ambassadors for the program. The two are like a set of opposing magnets most times, but they will make excellent representatives to explain the different aspects of centaur culture. It might help to show our students that being in a different house doesn't mean they can't get along.

My magic was apparently feeling pretty frisky today as well.

It decided to gift the centaur with a bountiful grove of apple pears.

Magorian was absolutely delighted.

I feel like embarrassment is becoming my baseline.

Severus says my Occlumency is coming along well. I'm able to keep him out much of the time now, and it's enough to help me keep a lid on my emotional state as long as I'm not undergoing torture, wartime stress, or the ghosts of Albus Dumbledore and the Dark Lord. That's not bad for a summer's worth of work at an obscure and rare form of magic.

We went out for tea in Hogsmeade, and some gossipers were whispering about us from behind the dividers between the tables.

My magic may or may not have given them chicken bums complete with feathers. I hope they have fun sitting down from now on.

Amelia says the Unspeakables' team of Healers say the transfiguration is not permanent this time. They will recover.

This time.

They say that the limiter on my first bit of transfiguration required true remorse. That's part of the reason why I'm not in trouble for permanently transfiguring my ex-boss and secretary— that and my magic is doing its own thing without my permission. They could easily be transfigured back if they were actually sorry for what they'd been doing to the lot of us all those years.

I'm not sure how they tracked all that to be honest. Tracking magic always seemed so insidious, and I never had a taste for it.

Damn, my magic is plucky about dispensing its version of justice.

Severus says my magic's behaviour during the settling says a lot about me. That I value justice over my own personal benefit. I'm not even sure what that says about myself, especially when I've given people chicken bums. I'll have to think about it more.

How does Trelawney even keep her job, I've often wondered.

The students are back for the year, and Trelawney face-planted into her dish of jelly cubes while snoring and reeking of sherry.

The older students were all surprised to see first and second years in Care of Magical Creatures, but word must be spreading that the class is good because Minerva told me there are older students complaining that they never got to learn about the centaur and the Forbidden Forest.

Minerva is considering having me hold a first and second year catch up curriculum for those students who missed it, but there is only so much of me to go around unless she plans on having them join my first and second years on a temporary basis.

It's amusing watching Severus around the students. Some things never change. While he's not as harshly biased as he once was during the war, he's still strict as ever. I have a far better understanding now how students will attempt to get away with things during class in a number of very unsafe ways.

Do not wander off the path.

Mr Harrison did not do as told, and he ended up being yanked upside down after being caught in a leg snare.

Severus says I need to treat every child like they're an idiot until they've proven otherwise.

Pretty harsh, but—

I can certainly see his point after so many stupid incidents happened even after I had given them perfectly clear and explicit instructions!

Minerva chuckled saying that children will always test any boundaries they're given.

I guess my parents were relatively lucky. The most that I ever tested their boundaries as a kid was by hiding under the covers to read when I should have been sleeping.

Then again, I did Obliviate them without their permission, so I guess it didn't really matter how good a child I was.

I still failed them in the end.

Shite. It's bloody well raining licorice snaps.

The pranks that have been set out to entrap the unwary for the last month have now come to a rather abrupt end. One of them ensnared Argus, and he is hardly of the age where being strung up by magic and stuck to the ceiling can be easily brushed off.

Minerva was furious and ready to have kittens on the spot, and she laid down some pretty fierce ground rules about what she deems to be unacceptable behaviour and precisely what would be done about it should she not be obeyed.

I have to wonder what it would have been like if someone had laid down such rules during the time when Fred and George were in school. They never tried to string someone up and plaster them to a ceiling, though—

I returned a terrified Mrs Norris (who I swear must be of the feline undead because she always looks the same age and never seems to slow down) to Argus. The look of pure gratitude on his craggy face made me feel ashamed that I'd never gotten to know the man before now.

Perhaps, it wouldn't have worked then.

His loathing of students really hasn't changed, but I can't really blame him considering the treatment he puts up with.

It may be nothing, but I made Mrs Norris a few enchanted catnip mice and some floppy fish that should entertain her. I may not be able to do anything for Argus without him thinking I want something, but I can at the very least help him spoil his cat.

Minerva gave me her blessing to allow Walter to have a little "fun" with pranksters to hopefully discourage any late night curfew avoidance and prank setting.

Severus and I have been patrolling halls together in case a prank should take us unawares. He doesn't want one to take me out and for Walter to go berserk and smother a student or have my emotions flare and the student populace be replaced by a flock of bantam chickens or something—

Merlin knows my track record has been pants lately.

"You look absolutely knackered, Severus," Hermione observed as the Potions master slowly rubbed his temples.

Snape had been nursing his lemonade after that morning's "braid and trade" session that had recently become a habit. Much to the students' complete shock, he was not only seen out of the dungeons but sitting out on the grounds with Hermione by "Hagrid's hut" during the daylight hours, no less.

The absence of the half-giant had not gone unnoticed, and there were rumours that "Professor Granger murdered him for the job because Hagrid would never leave the animals."

However, with Hagrid making rather dramatic dragon botched news in Romania that even made its way back to Hogwarts, the rumours had turned into disbelief that "Hagrid left us for dragons! What a jerk!"

The focus rarely seemed to be on Hagrid's wellbeing so much as the fact that his absence brought an end to "the easy detention". Professor Granger, they whispered, never let them get away with anything. "She's as bad as Snape, she is," some would say while the newer students seemed baffled because they loved her class.

Taking the mysteries out of why the Forbidden Forest was forbidden had sharply reduced the amount of idiocy involving past-curfew shenanigans, and there was nothing quite like a feral magical car and scary Acromantulas to put the fear back into the dark places even before the patrolling centaur found them.

The younger generations of Acromantulas had no qualms whatsoever about eating unwary kids for supper, breakfast, or even mid-morning tea, so part of the curriculum involved covering the forest's natural species, invaders, and certain, um, unnatural hybrids that did not occur due without help from an overgrown dunderhead with big ideas and a penchant for reckless experimentation.

There were a great many revelations going around lately with the absence of Hagrid and the transformation of his ramshackle hut into a clean living space. It wasn't uncommon to have centaur visitors since her adoption by Magorian, and Severus had created a potent natural insect repellent that had the herd coming by on a regular basis for that alone. His respect of their preference for natural remedies had earned him many points with the herd, and Minerva was glad that the peace between the centaur and Hogwarts was vastly improved compared to almost any time she could remember.

Severus, on this particular day, however, looked like he'd finally reached the end of his rope of patience, and his fingertips were heavily stained with crimson grading ink.

Hermione knew what that meant: essays.

A ghastly slaughter of the English language mixed with an even worse grasp of Potions acumen.

Hermione had solved the entire "didn't do the homework" issue by making it quite clear that if they didn't do it they would not be included in the trip into the forest or wherever else they were going to go that day. It only took a few times of being forced to go back to study hall with a heap of make-up work as their more diligent peers crowed excitedly about having another great day outdoors exploring the forest for the slackers to come to the correct conclusion.

Even with the more welcome changes, nothing could really change the onslaught of bad essay work, and few things could help that but a solid English class taken from the Muggle world. Minerva was pushing to have the Muggle Studies curriculum include such things, taking samples of "just how bad" student essays were to the meeting to torture the Board into doing what she needed.

Severus said that she was a ruthlessly efficient witch, and Hermione was starting to see his side of it just from watching Minerva work. Over the course of her tenure, she had already emphasized the importance of academics over fun, and those that failed in keeping their grades to an acceptable level found that they lost the privileges to participating in or enjoying things like Quidditch events, Hogsmeade trips, or any of the field trips that popped up on occasion.

While the grades were going up, it didn't solve Snape's usual problem in the fact that children often simply failed to grasp the art or the subtle needs of a potioneer.

"I am doomed eternally to reading mindless drivel attempting to dress itself up as acceptable research," Severus said as he finished his lemonade.

"You look about ready to explode," Hermione said quietly as she finished the daily braiding. The happy barber bird quickly set about weaving the spare strands of captured hair into its nest to reinforce its walls.

Severus used one hand to rub his shoulder and neck, and Hermione used her hands to knead his muscles in an attempt to help rid him of the gathering knots.

The tortured groan startled her, but when she hesitated, he practically whimpered, "Please don't stop. That feels utterly divine."

She worked his neck and shoulders and down his arms to rub his hands. It surprised her that his hands and fingers were almost stiff with tension as he'd always seemed so nimble while preparing potions, so she set to work on them.

Snape's eyes seemed to roll back into his head as she worked, and he practically oozed into a purring pile of goo from her steady ministrations.

As she worked the muscles in his arm, she saw him wince as the knots struggled against her, and she eased into them with a slight warming spell to help with the discomfort. When she finished, he looked at her rather blearily in disbelief.

"Thank you," he said quietly, his voice but a rumble. "No one has ever—"

"It was no bother," Hermione said, placing her hand on his.

Severus seemed to flounder a bit from the simple kindness, still expecting she wanted something in return, yet she did not.

Strangely, his stomach seemed to do a little flip as he considered continuing such contact— touching her, returning the comfort, seeking her warmth. In some ways, he felt like an awkward teenager with desires he could barely understand, upsetting his mind and body with odd sensations and needs.

It wasn't just a want to have her close.

It was becoming a need.

He wanted to embrace her, bask in her touch, feel the press of her against himself and know—know that she was his.

While she had not shown any desire to end their courtship, a part of him felt as though he were failing before it had even begun— afraid that he was mucking it all up in his fear not to waken the curse that lurked underneath just waiting for him to lose control, become too intimate, and seal him to her with the culmination of his rising need for her.

It'd help if he actually knew the true conditions of the curse, but he had been convinced it hadn't been an issue. The curse had been sealed by Lily back in the day—

And he had lived with the aftereffects, the obsession, the torture of of having thought he'd found completion only to watch her swan off and marry Potter.

The damage had been done, however. The curse had been sealed, or so Dumbledore had said. If ever there had been a bright side to being fixated on a woman that loved someone else.

But now what?

He was on a speeding train towards wanting something he'd never had before—

A witch who actually shared his life, cared about him, wanted to be intimate but was willing to wait for him to pull his head out of his arse—

At least for now, she was.

How long could he keep her at arms length before she started to read between the lines and realise he was a coward, that he wanted something he thought he didn't deserve?

His passion with Lily had been a candle's burning— hot but limited. Once the fuel had burned away, Lily had moved on, but his fixation had been set, his curse focused.

It was a matter of intense shame, and while it had provided a great deal of protection in the war, by making the Dark Lord oblivious to anything but his obsession with Lily, it had not given him respite for the future.

He had no ground in which to predict what would happen or if anything could happen with Hermione.

Part of him scoffed at that line of reasoning, as he knew his body was very much interested in Hermione Granger. His mind appreciated the strength and aptitude of Hermione Granger.

But what about his soul?

Had the part of him bound to Lily's memory truly been banished from his soul and his curse? If being with Hermione truly awakened the curse, what would that do to him? To her?

There were so many questions unanswered. Questions he was not too excited to explore lest they tell him what he was afraid would be the answer.

That he could never satisfy the curse a second time— that he could never be satisfied because the person he'd bonded to before he'd even realised he was the victim of a curse was dead.

"You have a look of consternation on your face, Severus," Hermione said. "Did my massage make you uncomfortable?"

Severus shook his head. "No. It was wonderful," he replied as he shook off his wool gathering.

Touch her! his heart berated him. Let her know you want to be close to her.

He pressed his lip between his teeth a moment, wincing. With an unpracticed movement, he extended his hand to her. "Will you sit with me?"

He wouldn't have traded Hermione's radiant expression for anything in that moment, nor the feel of her nestled against his side as they watched the house spiders wrangling insects in the garden for the morning meal.

The pain in his chest was close to ecstasy.

He slowly wrapped his arm around her side and pulled her near.

I used to wake up in the dead of night, and it was usually Crooks wanting something because it was tummy o'clock. Oddly, I don't wake up during the night anymore.

Severus left late, and if I didn't know better I'd say he wanted to stay, but I know he still thinks that I'm going to bolt the moment his curse claims him.

He won't talk to me about the curse very much, and it makes me wonder just how dire it could be. I really wish he'd talk to me about it so we could work through it together— maybe even figure out exactly what it's about.

Despite the physical awkwardness, my magic seems to be utterly fascinated by him. I can almost feel it reaching out to explore him. I—

I don't think he's oblivious to it. He couldn't be, but the way he stiffens and shuts down so easily makes me think there is perhaps something wrong with me.

He tells me he has strong feelings for me, but—

It's so hard to tell when his words say one thing but he's so distant in other ways.

I suppose I should be glad he's even entertaining my presence at all considering our history— and he did say he desires to court me.

He does stay when he could be elsewhere.

We do enjoy our time together.

I just need to be more patient.

Walter seems to realise I crave cuddles because he wraps around me more tightly when I get in one of my moods.

Arggh! Cold wet nose in my armpit!

My beast-friend is back demanding his own cuddles. I should probably oblige him before he knocks over my desk. Or me. Or both.

He seems pretty good about knowing when it's supposed to be my bedti—

(Pen dragged off parchment)

Oh, that infuriating man!

How dare he get all upset when Marcus from the DoM came to check on me and see how my training was coming along! You'd think Marcus was trying to attack me by the way Severus pointedly placed himself between us the entire time.

I really hate being caught in the middle of someone's male pissing contest. We are courting! I'm not being courted by anyone else. Have some bloody faith in ME for Merlin's sake.

RAGH!

(pen dragged off parchment, large paw print smear)

It's hard to believe it's summer again. The year went by so very quickly. Minerva said the changes made in Care of Magical Creatures have been the talk of the Board, thanks to significantly improved grades and far fewer incidents of children wandering into the Forbidden Forest getting into trouble. Not to mention no more incidents of children being traumatised by a detention in the Forbidden Forest—

The treaty between Hogwarts and the centaur herd remains unchallenged, and apparently that was something that was often questioned in previous years, most especially during Albus Dumbledore's multiple decades as headmaster.

Because of the war, it's hard to really judge Dumbledore's actions. There are so many questions, but none of the answers can come from the man himself, and he kept a great many important things from his portrait, much like he did with everyone else.

I know there is a great deal of history between Albus and Severus, but Severus clams up whenever Dumbledore is brought up in conversation. I guess we're just not yet at a point in our relationship where he feels comfortable talking to me about such things.

I can't help but feel that somehow I'm not enough for him. That I'm not accepting enough. I'm not more than just someone he's found he can tolerate far longer than most.

Maybe I'm just being paranoid. I'm judging our relationship like I saw with mum and dad's, and that's not fair to him. No two relationships are the same.

At least my magic hasn't mauled someone lately. That's saying something, right?

"Hermione—"

"No, it's fine, I shouldn't have pushed," Hermione pulled away and tugged Walter around herself tightly. "You need more time, and I'm selfish for wanting more than you can give."

Severus squeezed his eyelids shut as he grimaced. "Hermione, I love you. You enchant me. Your magic calls to me. I can barely stand against it," he confessed. "I want you in every way I know and possibly in ways I can't even fathom, and yet I resist."

"Because you don't feel right about us," Hermione whispered sadly, turning away.

"No. Because I'm afraid of what taking you into my arms and becoming intimate physically with you will do to us! I don't even know the full extent of my curse or what it could turn me into. I could hurt you! I don't ever want to hurt you!"

Hermione turned to him, her expression incensed, but then she winced and made a frustrated noise. "I think it's a given that we don't want to hurt each other, but if we aren't willing to take a little risk, then what? We read books together for the rest of our lives in some kind of perpetual courtship?"

"You don't want to be with me," Severus whispered, his expression haunted.

"I want to be with you so much it HURTS, Severus!" Hermione cried, her hands making exploding gestures with her fingers. "I really do want to be with you. Be loved by you. Be important to you!"

Walter billowed behind her noisily, disturbed by her spike in emotions.

"You are everything to me!" Severus replied, his voice low and trembling. "Everything I never want to lose!"

Walter engulfed Severus' face, apparently tired of his Mistress being emotionally volatile.

"Walter, no!" Hermione cried, prying the pissed off Lethifold off Snape's head. She cuddled the hissing Lethifold soothingly, stroking the "fabric" until he settled. "Why don't you go play with the Whomping Willow for a bit, love? I'll be fine. Severus and I are just having a rather emotional conversation."

Walter seemed dubious, but he wrapped around her tightly before floating out the window.

Snape nursed an angry red welt on his face as he stood there rather dumbly, unsure of what to say or even how to act.

Hermione tched, summoning a towel and basin. She pointed her wand into the basin to summon water, and dipped the towel in it. She gently tended Severus' face with the cool water and then pressed the damp towel to his skin.

"I know there are charms for this sort of thing, but I also know you prefer the feel of cloth over the magical remedies," Hermione said quietly as she stepped back. "Fortunately, Walter has been fed very well. I don't think he was trying all that hard to devour your head."

Severus' hand caught her own, his fingers weaving with hers. "Please stay with me tonight." He grasped her fingers in his. She stared at him, her jaw moving with no sound coming out. "You want—"

"Stay with me forever," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

His eyes met hers. "I want you. I need you, but I am frightened by the strength of that need. If I hold you tonight, there will be no going back for me. I will not be able to cage the monster that claws at my insides. I beg you, if that frightens you, please walk away now."

Hermione touched his cheek. "I want a future with you," she said.

He hissed, her hand jerking as he clasped her hand and leaned into her touch. "And the unknown?"

"I would face it together with you," she said.

Severus opened his arms to her. "There is no one else I would rather have at my side for life's trials."

Hermione closed the gap and allowed him to engulf her.

Severus stayed the night. Waking up to him laying beside me was the most surreal experience, but it felt so right.

After the past year, I was thinking we'd never get to the point where he'd want to stay over, and I was frustrated with always being pushed away just when I'd think he was ready.

My magic seemed to celebrate by not doing anything shifty, far more interested in getting to know his magic while we slept. The tingling of my magic seemed to linger on him, so when I got up, it was like trying to gather a bunch of unravelled yarn in order to leave the bed. My magic seemed reluctant to leave him alone.

The house-spiders had a great English breakfast spread for us on waking up, and apparently they wove Severus a silk robe during the night.

Walter seemed a bit suspicious that Severus spent the night, but he settled when I fed him.

Severus seemed extremely surprised that just sleeping with me last night didn't turn him into some horrible cursed beast on a murderous rampage, and I told him that would be a horrible cumulation of events after his curse wanted to have me closer. It seems like a long sequence of events just to end with attacking someone at the end.

He wasn't so sure, but Severus, bless him, has never been one to think of the good possibilities first. From what little I know of his home life as a child, and some of the stories he told of his time at Hogwarts as a student, he's always had to watch out for himself.

How lonely that must have been not having someone that cared for him.

Harry and Ron may not have been very academically inclined when we were schooling, but they did make it impossible to be lonely. Sometimes I wanted space, and had to struggle to get it!

While he talks about his past somewhat, I know there is a lot he can't or won't tell me. I'm not sure if he's afraid of what I might think, still dealing with it like I am with my parents, or if some trauma has never had the chance to heal.

It hurts when he can't talk to me about it, but I try to remember that he's been a very private individual from the start. What he has told me is a gift, and I shouldn't be so selfish to think that my impact on his life would suddenly erase his instinct to protect what has come and gone but still left wounds that have never really had a chance to heal.

I think that something horrible may have happened here at Hogwarts, and the reason he can't really face that history is that it never left. He never left. The history is here, staring him in the face. If I had to face my parents every day only to see them turn away and pretend I didn't exist— every day, every year— I would probably have more than a few issues of my own on top of what I've been dealing with lately.

Severus has a big potions order to work on along with some potions for the infirmary, so he's going to be working on that all week. We'll meet up later tonight, he promised. I feel happy that he's planning to be with me at night.

Poppy said that there wasn't so much needed this year because of my class. Less children getting attacked by various forest dangers and Hagrid's so-called 'armless animals as it were.

I wonder how Hagrid is doing out there tending the dragons and living his dream.

End of Chapter Two