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 hard to be inspired when you're uncomfortably sweltering. Bird had no AC, and let's just say it was too hot to think, sleep, or write. Ngh.
Displaced
A story by CorvusDraconis
Chapter Three
The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.
H.P. Lovecraft
I think I had a great epiphany today!
Maybe, I was just blind the entire time, but I'd always thought the small herd of cattle on the grounds were just normal Muggle cows, but either having lived at Hogwarts for so long changes them (or rather the leys that constantly zip through here) or maybe the cows were never non-magical to begin with.
Anyway, after some experiments with the milk (of which I had quite a bit thanks to some rather annoyed cows that let me know in no certain terms that I was neglecting part of my duties in the care of magical creatures), I have realised that the magical cows produces milk that is easier to digest and gain nutrients due to its compatible magical nature. It's also cross-species compatible. That is, if you are a milk drinker, magical cow milk is okay nutritionally. That will make fostering some of the orphaned animals so much easier! Why did no one tell me this kind of thing existed?!
I'm an idiot. Here I was thinking milk was milk but no.
It got me thinking, and I posed a hypothesis to Severus and Poppy that maybe we could do a little merging of science and magic and create a probiotic drink that might be a tasty treat with possible gut benefit. Merlin knows it could have helped Ronald with his constant flatulence.
Poppy seems super excited about it and speculated if it could be combined with the Pepper-Up potion for added benefits.
I'm going out to talk to some dairy farmers to get some advice on the best ways to milk the cows this weekend. There is only one of me, and maybe I can craft a spell that will help me with it without hurting the cow.
More research needed— and cow experience. Who knew I would have to be a jack of all trades?
Severus says my beast friends are giving me "gifts."
I asked him if he meant the morning and evening grooming bath that my beast friend seems convinced will save my life every night and day.
He said maybe, if that meant giving me tufts on my ears— well new ears in general.
Fortunately, my hair covers that little gift up, so when the students come back, I won't be stared at so much. Who am I kidding, they'd stare anyway!
Oh well.
I have to wonder if Madam Hooch had similar experiences working with her magical raptors. She does have the most beautiful bird eyes and bird of prey reflexes. I would expect no less from a flying instructor, but I think in her case, much as I seem to have been adopted by things, she was too. She hasn't said anything about it, but Severus and I suspect, especially with the physical manifestations, that either she was gifted directly by some magical raptors or someone in her family did and it was passed down. It makes sense, but I wonder why such things are not written in the books. It seems like so much that I've been learning is not in the books.
It's so frustrating when I can't go look something up when I don't know it!
Severus was laughing at me saying that most of the best knowledge was spread by word of mouth not on parchment, from master to apprentice and the like.
I guess if anyone is going to learn from my experience, I'm going to have to write the books mys— (ink dragged across parchment with ink splatter, beast pawprint in ink)
"I hardly recognise the ol' place!" Hagrid boomed as he looked around while nursing Ceylon from a teacup the size of a salad bowl. "It'll take some gettin' used to movin' back in 'ere and all."
Hermione's smile at seeing her old friend abruptly faded. "Moving?" she asked quietly.
"Well, yeah, ya know," Hagrid said, stroking his beard. "Dragons may not be as friendly as I thought. The preserve has a no-touch policy on the ones I really liked. Wasn't quite what I was promised, yeah? So, I'll be moving back 'ere and takin' up me ol' haunts."
"But, Hagrid," Hermione said, "I've already accepted the contract for tenure. They offered it to me for my work improving the curriculum last year and—"
"Aw, I know you don't like the creatures as much as me, 'ermione. It was nice of you to keep my job warm for me, but I'm ready to come back home." Hagrid stroked his beard. "Besides, I know you like stirring up the Ministry and makin' all them new laws and such. And with you getting married an' all, you'll be wanting to move in with Ron and startin' up a big family like."
Hermione just stared at him, open-mouthed.
Walter rustled on her behalf, threatening to attack him, smother him, eat him, or some combination thereof.
"You may have been missing out on the news lately, Hagrid," Severus' voice growled from the doorway, "but Professor Granger is now a permanent staff member here at Hogwarts, and she came back when you left to go play with dragons. She earned her position, and the Board of Governors rather likes her way of doing things and her greatly improved results."
Severus walked in with a nod to Hermione as he fetched his accustomed teacup and poured tea into it before doctoring it up with an appropriate quantity of milk and sugar. "As for marriage, now that is news to me, Professor Granger. Have you received any proposals lately?"
"Gee, not that I recall," Hermione replied dryly.
"Well, we can't have the Prophet calling you a loose witch, now can we?" Severus said dryly. "Since Mr Weasley cannot be relied upon to tie his trainers properly, let alone propose without large amounts of both hand-holding and strong motherly pressure, please allow me to help preserve your fine reputation."
He pulled a ring out from his pocket. The ring shone like a glittering band of stars. "Marry me," he said warmly. "Be my witch from now until my very last breath."
Hagrid's eyes became the size of dinner plates as Hermione rushed to press herself against Severus's button line, her arms wrapping around his back as she smashed her cheek against his chest and enthusiastically cried, "Yes!"
"Uh, Ron ain' gonna like that at all, sir," Hagrid babbled inanely.
Severus's eyes narrowed dangerously at Hagrid as he enfolded his witch. "Frankly, Hagrid, I don't give two flying shrivelfigs what Mr Weasley thinks, and neither should you. Or are you saying that you believe Professor Granger to be incapable of making up her own mind? Shall we duel over it? While she is more than capable of defending her honour, it would be my great honour and privilege to wipe the floor with you after what you consistently got away with while Albus Dumbledore remained perched upon his golden throne of biased leniency."
Hagrid seemed to swallow a dragon egg whole as he shook his head violently. "No, Professor Snape, sir. I'll just be off ter see the Headmistress and sort out moving back in."
Hagrid shuffled off in a hurry.
Severus scowled. "The Headmistress is in a meeting until noon."
"I won't be long," Hagrid said dismissively.
"For this world," Severus said under his breath as the bumbling half-giant trundled away.
Hermione frowned, and while her face was only slightly wrinkled in concern, it started to rain purple outside.
Severus sighed and took her into his arms. "He's an idiot."
"I have a bad feeling," Hermione said, pressing her face to his buttonline.
Snape's brows knit together. "Do not let Hagrid's utter obliviousness chip away at your confidence," he said. "You earned your tenure here, unlike certain others who weaseled their way into the position due to a sympathetic Headmaster. Both Hagrid and Trelawney were given his protection here in order to save their lives, but now that their lives are not in danger, we needn't continue to suffer their idiocy."
Hermione sighed and thumped her forehead against his shoulder. "He's going to tell Ron a ridiculous story, and both he and Molly are going to make my life bloody miserable. Harry, too—just because he has this idea of a perfect family. And anything that riles up Molly inevitably trickles down to Ginny, so it all ends up in Harry's lap."
"Perhaps, I should have waited to spring such a question—"
"No!" Hermione exclaimed. "I do not regret that at all."
She looked into his black eyes, her fingers brushing against his chin. "I don't regret what we have built together. I simply loathe the reaction that I know will be coming from the people who should be my best friends."
"Sometimes best friends are the ones who know the best ways in which to hurt you," Severus said, his face scrunching up in a wince.
Hermione sighed as she looked up. "I hope one day you can talk about the things that hurt you. You shouldn't have to suffer such things alone."
Severus seemed to struggle a moment and then slumped. "I cannot. Not— not yet."
Hermione nodded and closed her eyes.
Snape could see Walter wrapping more tightly around her as if to comfort her. "One day," she said with a sad smile. "I hope you will be able to trust me enough."
Hermione suddenly straightened, stiffening. "Now I need to go tell the herd that Hagrid is here before they find out by seeing him first and end up throwing spears at him. They are going to be mighty unhappy to learn he has returned—for any length of time."
Severus touched her shoulder, his expression pinched. "Hermione—"
Hermione shook her head. "It's okay. I'll get over it."
"It's not that I don't trust you," he said softly.
He closed his eyes, his head lowering. "My past still haunts me."
Hermione touched his hand a moment before slipping away. "So does mine."
As she walked out into the forest, Walter billowing behind her, Snape felt a keen sense of loss of her warmth as he cursed himself for holding back. It had been so long ago, but the wounds from Lily's part in his life still burned.
Despite it all, despite how much better he had it with Hermione, Lily had been his first love—the first person he had given himself to, however foolishly, body and soul.
A first, blindly intoxicating, naive first love—
Of course, then he hadn't known he was cursed, and he wondered if it would have made a difference.
Back then, all he had wanted was her, and Lily—
At least at the time, Lily had wanted him.
Hormones. Emotions—
Either way, it had led to losing their virginity in the dark corridor he'd never found again—
To him, it had been everything, but not even a month later he had the worst day of his life as he dangled upside-down from a tree with his pants showing—
When she smiled as they were torturing him.
When he called her a Mudblood.
When she stormed away from his life never to return.
Oh, but it had bitten her on the arse, true enough, when their marriage wasn't sanctioned by the Ministry because her magic had been bound to his.
Sexual intercourse had a habit of binding a person if that other person was magical. Not always—
So, Potter, with his money and his Auror influence, married her the Muggle way, and then shagged Lily until she conceived— the one way to break the magical bond provided she wasn't already pregnant from Severus.
That was how he'd found out about the curse and his "settling magic."
The curse that wanted to be bound to his mate had been broken.
And by some stroke of luck for Lily, their shagging hadn't ended in pregnancy.
There was no contraception charm, despite the rumours. There was no abortive potion. That sort of thing was highly illegal in the Wizarding World because the death of even one magical child was considered a high crime.
Rumour had it that the contraception potions that were out there were the reason people gave birth to Squibs— people's desperate attempt to erase their mistake only to make a worse one and condemn their child to a world without magic when they should have been magical.
So it was pure luck that Lily had managed to escape her magical marriage to Severus Snape—
She had, anyway.
Not him.
He was bound to her in longing, his magic shorn and desperate for her. He'd spent years with the DoM while earning his mastery with Master Groot. All the while, his magic, unlike Hermione's, tried to outright murder people.
He hadn't been in a good place, admittedly.
Master Groot had been amongst the most elite of Potioneers, but also a master of putting Severus' magic back in check long enough for Severus himself to keep it there. He'd also been a barrister, and it had probably saved Severus' life and kept him out of Azkaban.
Severus had, unfortunately, lacked any appreciation for the extent of what Master Groot had done for him until it was too late. The war descended, and Lily died.
Severus was free of his bond to Lily with her death, but he was enslaved by his bad life choices to a megalomaniac, and then in attempting to save Lily from the Dark Lord's wrath, he'd enslaved himself to another. He had both sides of the coin; two masters fought as he danced the edge of the coin trying desperately not to die between them.
If anything, the war had shifted his magical priorities with Lily's death, and he had no emotional attachments to anyone living. He took no lovers. He had no flings. He didn't even have real friends.
There were his "brothers and sisters" in the Dark Lord's ranks, but he knew the loyalty was only as good as the Dark Lord's grip around their throats.
There were his colleagues at Hogwarts he could never show his true self— if he even knew what that was. He'd spent so much time being someone else for everyone, he wasn't even sure who his true self was.
Dumbledore had even said that it was probably best for the Dark Lord to think he was still obsessed with Lily so he wouldn't throw any other "victims" at him to be used and tortured— a victim of a magical bond was something even the Dark Lord couldn't argue against.
He should know. He bound all his subordinates to him for that very same reason.
Loyalty upon pain of death.
But maybe, what no one had counted on, including himself, was that he would survive the war. He would survive Tom Riddle the Lord Voldemort. He would survive Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.
He was no longer bound to anyone—
And then the curse sensed his growing attraction to Granger.
The curse of Hagrid's mysterious animal that "vanished" after attacking him on that cold day in the woods picking mushrooms for Slughorn's favour—
He'd thought himself lucky.
No aftereffects.
No symptoms.
But he'd been an oblivious fool.
Perhaps, since he'd been bitten so young, there had been no sexual element to stir within him. At least, that is what some of the DoM people speculated. By the time the curse would have stirred, he'd gone and fucked up by satisfying their mutual lust together, bound the curse and the bond it seemed to want.
He either had the best or the worst of magical luck.
Severus was betting on the worst.
And now he had a witch who wanted nothing more than to be at his side and share his life with him, and he couldn't even tell her about Lily.
He'd dropped hints that there could be no sexual relationship without a bond forming, and once it did, there would be no going back.
But the truth was, he was already half bound to her already. Her presence in his life was a beacon of warmth where Lily's had only been a candle. He'd done so much for that memory of a hint of warmth, so why couldn't he do something simple like tell Hermione the truth?
Why was he holding on to Lily when Lily had left his life long before she left the world?
Hermione wanted to be with him.
Wanted him. His touch. His company. His— everything.
And his mind kept travelling back to Lily and how badly that had ended for both of them.
He was an idiot.
Hermione was to be his wife now, and he couldn't even open himself up fully to her. He was willing to bind his magic to her until his dying breath, but he couldn't tell her about Lily.
Thoughts of Lily stirred the magic inside him, and he immediately slammed down his controls to force his emotions to heel. His expression of anguish changed to the stillness of stone but not before his magic lashed out and obliterated the innocent moth that had been trying to fly towards the candle in the darkest part of the room.
Severus gritted his teeth.
Why were such simple things never truly simple at all?
"Hagrid, have you listened to a single thing I've said?" Minerva demanded as she slammed her hand down on her desk. "Your position has been filled. You left for a permanent job appointment at the dragon sanctuary, and you signed the parchment that said you relinquished the right to your permanent position here by leaving."
"But this is me home, Headmistress!" Hagrid protested. "Per-fessor Dumbledore promised I would always have a home here."
"A contract you nullified when you abandoned your post for the dragon sanctuary, Rubeus," Minerva said, her eyes narrowing. "You left me in a pickle at the end of the term, don't think I have forgotten about that. You not only had the job of teaching classes, but you also had groundskeeping duties. Both things had to be filled when you swanned off to wrangle dragons."
"I built that hut with me own two hands, I did!" Hagrid said. "It's my home!"
"Then find a plot of land somewhere, and we will move it there and build Professor Granger a new one," Minerva said, her expression dour. "I'll even throw in about forty years of filth back on it so you'll feel right at home."
"Wh-uah-I-what?" Hagrid blurted.
"Your hut, Hagrid, was completely uninhabitable. I'm surprised you could even breathe. It smelled of animal pish and rodents, and I'm pretty sure there was enough fur in the cracks to knit about twenty new dogs. You may have built the place, Rubeus, but your lack of maintenance was inexcusable. The fact you forbid the house-elves to help there did you absolutely no favours in that area. Everything had to be replaced."
Minerva's expression darkened. "And I have a feeling that the real reason you didn't want our house elves to help you was that you were hiding your little pet projects in there, and not for any love of manual labour; that was obviously not the case."
Flustered, Hagrid seemed to simmer in his beard, unable to come up with anything to ease Minerva's full frontal assault on his past.
Minerva shook her head. "Because Albus promised you your hut, I will make arrangements for Professor Granger to build herself a new place on the green. I will give you until the start of the next term to find a place upon which to relocate it, after which, Rubeus, you are on your own. Your position at Hogwarts has been filled."
"'Ermione wouldn't let me go jobless! She can go back to 'er Ministry jobber, and there would be an opening again," Hagrid insisted.
"Rubeus, you are standing on the very last nerve I have," Minerva said. "Your insistence that a professor of this school steps aside so you can come back when you left with full intentions of not coming back is out of line. If you insist on trying to pressure her out of the position she has rightfully earned, I will cast you and your hut out to a place so bloody far and remote that Ittoqqortoormiit, Greenland will seem like a bustling metropolis."
Minerva scowled fiercely at the grumbling half-giant. "Am I quite clear, Hagrid?"
Hagrid stared down at his fingers. "Aye, Headmistress."
The Thestrals whickered and crooned happily as they milled about on the green, and Hermione had filled a feeding trough with tasty morsels for them after their daily groomings, hoof care, wing oilings, for their help assembling her new abode on the grounds.
Her chosen location, however… well, she'd literally tripped on it.
While chasing a gnome out of the garden, she'd run in the path of a hunting Jarvey, and the predator had fallen upon the gnome with hungry teeth and claws— just where her feet were going.
She tripped over the disgruntled Jarvey and tumbled right into the branches of a startled Whomping Willow.
While it tried its level best to whomp her into a bloody splatter on the ground, she noticed a silver dagger that was buried in one swollen branch. She'd hung upon the handle— anything to keep from falling and being flung headlong into one of Hogwarts' outer walls. The dagger gave way under the pressure, and both she and the dagger went tumbling off into the stone and grass.
She awoke to find herself being cradled tenderly in the Whomping Willow's limbs, its new growth tendril-branches moving about the wound caused by falling on the dagger. Oddly, there was no pain, but the willow seemed insistent about exploring her wound with its tendrils. A trickle of green magic shimmered off the tendrils.
When Pomona happened to walk by on her way to meet with Minerva, she'd seen Hermione sprawled on the Willow and attempted to help only to get whomped furiously by an agitated, highly protective willow tree.
Hermione had passed out before she could see much else, and the next time she woke up, she found Severus tutting her as he tended her wound, irritatedly shoving the willow's concerned branches away as he bandaged her.
The willow apparently recognised his significance in her life, unlike most people.
Walter, who had gotten tangled up in the willow's branches during the dodging session, settled around her with what sounded like a sigh of relief, perhaps concerned that his bondmate was trying to commit suicide by tree.
The willow seemed to get a bit of whomp-inducing anxiety when she wasn't around to check up upon, and Hermione decided if she couldn't beat the willow in psychological warfare, she'd just surrender to the adoption, much as she'd done with the centaurs.
She began construction of her home just inside the willow's range but made sure the paddocks and gardens were sprawled well outside of it. She didn't want the foals and any other visitors to get pummelled to bits by the cranky tree.
While she was there, the willow seemed content to fuss over her instead of whomping, and no one was complaining about that development.
She guided the construction of her new abode with the help of the centaur to make sure it had the proper astronomical feng-shui, Pomona to make sure the gardens and the willow were provided for, adding some traditional centaur shelters for guest teaching in case one of the herd wanted to help with lessons or stay the night. A few Jarvey houses were constructed to enable them to help her live a gnome-free existence, and the paddocks were expanded to accommodate both the creatures and the students on a given day, as well as a few storage shelters to keep things organised depending on the lessons.
The barber birds, thankfully, had fledged their latest nest full of needy babies, and seemed grateful for the new place to set up. Whether it was because they liked the change in scenery or because they punted their grown kids out to the "old territory" was yet to be determined.
Severus told her it was likely both. What better place to live than a territory protected by an ever-vigilant Whomping Willow?
Hermione added Whomping Willow education to the first-year essentials list or at least a more detailed one now that her own knowledge of the species was growing. Just about everyone knew about willow bark teas and tinctures, but few knew the Whomping Willow could heal as well.
That revelation added to the adage that you should never piss off your healer because they knew precisely what healed and broke you in equal measure.
Her firsties always found themselves lured in by the beautiful barber birds too, and Hermione made sure to add the care one had to take in handling them, lest they lose trust in you and tell every other barber bird for miles around what an utter wanker you were. Fortunately, the birds made their nests under the high awning, safe from rain and from the grabby hands of curious idle students. They didn't have to be social if they didn't want to, and Hermione could relate to that need.
Her family of barber birds, however, seemed perfectly happy being right up in her business, and there were times she wondered if they were actually part cat instead of all bird.
She had to hand it to the industrious birds; they had a world of different types of hair at Hogwarts from human and creature. The sky was the limit on creativity and nest linings.
After about a week of work, Hermione's new house and teaching areas were ready and prepared for the upcoming term. Even Mrs Norris stopped by to pillage a fat mouse from the garden and rub up against everything before sauntering back to the castle to find Argus.
Hermione invited the staff and the centaur to visit, the house spiders having a joyful time serving up everything from lemonade to finger sandwiches and tasty centaur fare. A team of intrepid spiders were even roasting a huge bull elk on a rotisserie they had built in her back garden. As to how and where they had obtained it, she wasn't all that sure she wanted to know. Hermione didn't want to think too closely on how her house spiders knew everything they did, but they were quite obviously happy.
She was happy that they were happy.
Hagrid had moved back into his (albeit much improved) hut as if he never left, and he seemed to think that Hermione was going to shove off and leave him to his old job once she realised he was back to stay.
"He's so damned infuriating!" Hermione cried as a startled house-spider leapt off her lemonade glass and fled in a panic.
"He's Hagrid," Severus replied snarkily as he sipped his tea. "He's been this way for as long as Scotland's had thistle."
Hermione slammed her head against the table with a resounding thump only to have a willow branch enter via the nearest window, prop her up, slide a pillow under her head, and exit out the window again.
"Well, that was awkward," Hermione mumbled into her pillow.
"Consider my perspective," Severus said, having watched the rather surreal scene with considerable amusement.
Hermione rolled her head to the side to peer at him. "I think Hogwarts likes to throw a spanner into the works just when we think we're settled and stable. Just to see how we'll fare."
"I've lived here nearly longer than you've been alive, and I never once suspected the Whomping Willow was suffering from a dagger to the limb." Snape seemed thoughtful. "Not that you could get close enough to find out, usually. Even Pomona thinks she should have suspected something. I think she feels guilty that it never came up."
"Didn't you tell me the Headmaster forbade everyone but Poppy to come near the willow?" Hermione asked, frowning.
Snape nodded. "The tree guarded Lupin's path to the shack. It was a very attentive guardian."
Hermione rubbed her neck thoughtfully. "You said before that your curse came from Hagrid's unknown beast but that it was another student's prank that had set it in motion."
Snape let out his breath slowly. "Yes. I had rather horrible interpersonal relationships with many students at Hogwarts. There was a group that made it their mission in life to punish me for what I either did or they imagined I did. That's not to say I didn't fight back. I often tried to catch them off guard, too. Out of spite, usually, but I was only one person. They were a gang."
Hermione's brows furrowed. "The Marauders."
Snape frowned. "Who?"
Hermione sighed. "When I was in school, Harry said his dad had a group of friends called the Marauders. They liked to prank people."
"The types of pranks I was victim to were rarely harmless. Always humiliating."
Hermione absently stroked the abdomen of one of the house spiders, and it cooed happily at her attention before scurrying off to do whatever chores it assigned itself. "I think Harry started to realise that a great deal of what he had been told was coloured by the voices of the supposed victors," she said.
"Yet he still tries to conform you to his idea of what an ideal family should be," Severus said.
Hermione sighed softly. "It's been Harry's longest held and most cherished dream."
"Dreams are not always shared," Severus said slowly, his head tilting as he seemed to consider something.
Hermione touched his hand, her fingers weaving with his. "I'd like to think we share quite a few dreams." She squeezed her fingers over his. "Perhaps, we can dream up some new things to share."
Severus frowned slightly.
"Did I say something wrong?" Hermione asked, her brows pinched together.
Severus shook his head. "No, it's just—you're the only one who has considered finding new dreams that include me."
Hermione's hand tightened around his fingers. "Of course, I want to include you in my dreams for the future. You mean a great deal to me."
Snape's expression seemed far away and haunted, his pale skin seeming even more so than usual.
"I—" He looked at her, his fingertips lightly brushing against her cheek. "You mean a great deal to me as well."
Hermione smiled at him as Walter growled and suddenly lunged for Snape's head. "Gah! Walter, no!" she cried, snuggling the jealous Lethifold. The Lethifold seemed to peer at him rather suspiciously, as much as a creature without eyes could.
"I guess we should make sure to include Walter in our dreams," Hermione said.
The house-spiders skittered to and fro in the shadows.
"And the spiders," Hermione said with a chuckle.
There was an abrupt thump as the Whomping Willow punted a screeching squirrel off into Black Lake.
"And the tree," Severus said with a smirk.
Hermione grinned sheepishly. "Him too."
Severus tilted his head. "I think that perhaps Hogwarts is rather invested in you. I dread if you should swan off to become Minister for Magic what accommodations they will have to make for your rather extensive entourage."
Hermione shook her head and sighed. "Me? Minister for Magic? Hah! The Ministry doesn't even want to listen to my suggestions when it comes to other species. Kingsley is doing just fine, anyway."
Severus just shrugged. "Even Kingsley has to retire someday."
"Are you truly set on driving me round the twist?"
His lips twitched. "Perhaps."
Hermione mumbled something under her breath.
"What was that?" Severus prodded.
Hermione muttered something in ancient Phoenician.
Severus placed a kiss on her forehead.
She hummed and smiled. "You're still a git."
"Practice made perfect," he replied.
"Are you mad, Ronald?" Hermione demanded. "Did you abuse your status as an Auror to come here without an invitation?"
Ron Weasley looked smug. "I was invited. To stop you before you make a horrible mistake."
"I've already made terrible mistakes. One of which was ever entertaining that we could have a relationship after Hogwarts," Hermione said, her lips thinned into a fine, hard line. "I did not invite you here, so you can go be with whoever did. Otherwise, leave."
"Come on, 'Mione! You have no idea what they're saying about you! They say you're mental. That you accepted a proposal from Snape!"
"Professor Snape!"
"He's not my bloody teacher anymore!"
"He is still a teacher at this school and a war hero. You will respect that if nothing else!" Hermione seethed.
"I have no respect for that greasy git!" Ron fumed. "He's been a right bastard since we started schooling and no amount of heroism is going to change him!"
Hermione's expression darkened. "Then no amount of heroism changes the fact that when we needed you the most you left."
Ron looked like he swallowed a gobstone. "That's not the same!"
"So you can change but Professor Snape can't?"
"He'll never change his spots! That's what ol' Moody said!"
"And you can see where that bigotry got him!" Hermione threw back at him. "All that vigilance. All that paranoia! And he DIED like everyone else in the war! The good. The bad. Every kind of person died. Every kind of person survived and is trying to rebuild their lives. Even the Malfoys are trying to turn a new leaf. They're trying to make a difference in the world now– a positive difference."
"It's all a lie, 'Mione! You know that! Be smart about it," Ron whinged. "The Malfoys will never do anything that doesn't benefit them first! Snape will never be anything but a right bastard! He'd never give you a family! He'd never give you what you need!"
"And what is it that you think I need, Ron?" Hermione asked, her voice dangerously low.
"You know!" Ronald blurted. "Witch things! A house. Babies. Shoes!"
Hermione coughed a laugh. "I'm not sure where you are getting your information, but you know nothing about what I want or need."
"Look," Ron said, stepping closer. "I did some reading. And if it's about, you know, being all hysterical. I can help you with that, too. You don't have to throw yourself and greasy old Snape to get cock when I'm right here, ready and waiting!"
Walter lunged for Ron immediately as Hermione's expression turned from disbelief to wrath.
Ron cast his Patronus immediately, and Walter let out an agonising screech as he was hit full on by the corporal terrier— biting, clawing, and snarling.
Walter's shriek caused Hermione to clutch her head. She fell to her knees as Walter fled out into the forest.
The Whomping Willow's branches burst through the open window, knocking off the window from its frame as it wrapped around Ronald and dragged him out the window, whomping him on the ground multiple times before flinging him into Black Lake—
Sailing by the open Headmistress' balcony window where she and Severus were discussing curriculum together.
Minerva dropped the anti-Apparition barrier with a wave of her hand. "I'll get Mr Weasley. Severus, please check on Professor Granger!"
But Severus was already gone with a thunderous crack.
Walter hasn't returned since Ron hit him with the Patronus. I'm worried for him. Angry that Ron—
The nerve of him.
The audacity.
To assume like I'm like any other witch? That all witches want a home, kids, and a willing cock?
Shoes?
No.
So, maybe I do want a home. Who doesn't want a roof over their head?
Do I want kids? Not with him!
No!
I'm perfectly happy with functional shoes that won't make me want to scream at the end of the day, thank you very much.
Severus seemed torn between allowing me to cling to him like some trembling firstie and storming off to murder Ronald, but from what Minerva said after she visited—
The Whomping Willow seemed to hold some special regard for him that required vigorous tree-handling.
Angry, angry tree-handling.
Severus seemed satisfied by the outcome of listening to Minerva dress down Hagrid about inviting guests to Hogwarts without her permission considering he is a guest himself until he moves out. Hagrid, of course, said he needed help figuring out what to do about a job and Ron had kindly volunteered to help him.
I'm not sure it went down that way, to be honest.
Hagrid wants his job and home back. As always, he doesn't really think further than his immediate needs. Back when I was a kid, he always seemed so bumbling but loveable. Well intentioned—
Maybe he is well-intentioned, but I have to wonder what or to whom those intentions are focused.
I feel like his dreams didn't work out at the dragon sanctuary, so he's running back with his tail between his legs to where he'd always been able to be safe and protected—
Only, I hear the stories told by the centaur about how Hagrid's creatures and breeding projects made it so they couldn't let the foals explore their woods without being attacked by something on any given day.
It was no wonder they were cranky back then—
It's hard to imagine living in a place that starts out safe and someone moves in nearby and starts releasing their experiments into the forest to "set them free."
Dumbledore was always saying to remember that the Forbidden Forest was, well, forbidden, never really explaining why.
Trying to explain why you let one of your staff release dangerous creatures into the woods that could very well kill you?
That would have gone well.
Magorian says that if Hagrid moves back in and takes my place, they will break treaty and start doing the kind of thing they had to do when Hagrid was the main interloper to their forest on a daily basis: patrol harder and bar visits, punishing the trespassers with arrows if need be.
Minerva most definitely doesn't want that, but then she's already made it clear that she is not accommodating Hagrid for longer than to the beginning of the next term, after which he and his hut will be moved to some place random if he hasn't found a place by then.
The glow in her eyes—
I know that look well.
Every student that ever got caught doing something remotely sketchy did at one time or another. Being friends with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley had pretty much signed us up for continual punishment with our only saving grace (every single time) being sheer, dumb luck and somehow saving people instead of injuring them.
I don't know. I honestly can't even fathom why Hagrid thinks he can just waltz back to Hogwarts and pretend nothing ever happened, and to recruit Ron to help him?
Ron was probably all too willing to ride to the rescue and marry me. His mother planted some hare-brained idea that we were meant to be, and he's never been able to shake it, no matter how many witches he's slept with.
A part of him must know that we get along about as well as fire in a library or he wouldn't have been out there planting in so many gardens, but maybe the Weasley delusions run deeper than most.
They are a pureblood Wizarding family, after all, and despite their fall out with the Sacred 28, the old stories that the oldest blood kept to itself could only result in the sort of genetic instability the like of which Bellatrix Lestrange was a prime example.
Despite Ron's earlier Howler about accosting his mum with a hungry Lethifold, he still conveniently forgot all about it in order to waltz into Hogwarts to recommend I utilise his cock.
I can't even wrap my mind around it.
How does he get people to bed with that kind of shite?
My beast-friend just leapt through the open win— (pen drags across parchment).
Team of Hogwarts Professors Invents New Health Tonic!
Apothecaries Can't Keep it On the Shelves!
A group of professors at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry created a superb tonic that seems to serve not only as a Pepper-Up potion but also settle the rumbly tummies of those who have indulged in a little too much food and drink, even taming nausea and gastric distress.
The new tonic, called More Cowbell, hit the Wizarding World by storm. Healers are using it at Mungos, Aurors are using it on long nights. Ministry workers, and even students have embraced its various flavours and benefits.
Some claim that it works as a hangover potion, but Healer Poppy Pomfrey, and Professors' Severus Snape and Hermione Granger say that was not an intended use.
The More Cowbell Tonic is currently being courted for exclusive rights to produce outside of the small batches made at Hogwarts, and rumour has it that the Goblin Nation is winning in the race to the right to produce the drink.
End of Chapter Three
A/N: This was supposed to be a short one-shot. *sob* Why can't they be actual short one-shots?!