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 wild DeepShadows2

A/N: Something something about cheese. I've been busy at work, and when I'm not at work, I've been playing Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous which has been scratching my itch for a good RPG in the most satisfying way (if I bit frustratingly because it invokes feelings… argh!) It's definitely a good yarn if RPGs are your thing, a bit buggy (but they've been working hard on fixing such things), and definitely interesting.

Displaced

A story by CorvusDraconis

Chapter Six

I was intelligent enough to make up my own mind. I not only had freedom of choice, I had freedom of expression.

Amy Tan

"But that's impossible!" Molly exclaimed, wringing her hands.

"You think it's impossible that Hermione Granger was actually meant for someone or that it was ME she was meant for?" Severus said, his voice almost so low that it was a growling rumble.

Molly's eyes widened as she looked from Snape to her son and then at Kingsley. "Kingsley, you know how the old families matched their children! It's Olde Magick!"

Kingsley, who was sipping his tea next to Minerva, sniffed at that. "When invoking Olde Magick is it not customary to get the permission of the prospect's family? At which point did you speak to Mr and Mrs Granger in order to gain their blessing?"

The silence was Molly's only answer.

"You didn't because they were Muggles. Hermione had strong magic, so she would have been a good addition to your family's magical pool, and I'm sure Dumbledore was the first to suggest it out of all the other candidates he may have had here at Hogwarts to satisfy the Oath you both took." Kingsley looked disgusted. "Betrothal magic wouldn't work because Hermione would have had to have known and given her consent—but the entire situation wasn't about finding the most compatible, now was it? It was about finding a source of strong magic to inject into a diluted magical pool that has been stretched thinner and thinner with each generation."

Kingsley narrowed his eyes. "That is what you really meant when you claimed that Hermione and Ronald were "meant."

Molly shook her head wildly. "You know how important it is to keep the family magic strong, Kingsley. Dumbledore understood that! You come from a magical family! You understand!"

Kingsley scowled. "I understand your reasoning."

"Thank you!" Molly exclaimed.

"But I do not agree with it, nor do I condone it."

Molly's eyes grew wide. "No, no! You have to understand! It's for the betterment of magic! The greater good!"

"You're sounding dangerously close to a pureblood bigot, Molly," Kingsley said warningly. "It's the very same reasoning that kept the Blacks inbreeding with each other, making their insanity all the stronger. The only difference is, you don't care where the strong magic comes from or what the cost is as long as it strengthens your family."

"I don't even want her, mum! She fornicated with a monster!" Ron blurted, his face turning redder than his hair. "No magic is worth that!"

Molly shot her son a look that quelled his protest.

"He's almost twenty years older than her!" Molly protested. "It would be an uneven marriage—an uneven powerbase!"

There was a thump just outside the house just before a large Bunyip squeezed in through the open window with an almost comical thuuuPOP! It shook out its mane, and a small flock of barber birds promptly swarmed on and carried off the hair and flotsam that dropped down after the vigorous shaking. The great beast yawned widely, showing off lines of jagged teeth, glowing eyes blinking lazily as it whapped Kingsley down with one paw and shoved its head into his chest and neck with a loud growling rumble.

"Oof!" exclaimed Kingsley. "Hello there, my Lady."

Hermione lay down on the floor, her bulk taking up most of the entryway as she snuggle-mauled Kingsley like a favourite catnip-stuffed toy.

"Unless we are infecting a new companion," Severus said, "be careful with those teeth, love."

Hermione seemed to pout, but her claws were neatly sheathed and her teeth, while very obvious, managed to miss Kingsley's skin.

"Not that it wouldn't be an exciting new adventure," Kingsley quipped cheekily from his semi-prone state. His expression seemed almost wistful.

"Only you, Kingsley, would take being assimilated by a Bunyip spirit as an exciting new adventure," Severus said, his nose giving a twitch.

Kingsley didn't seem to mind at all as Hermione used him as a snuggle buddy, wrapping her forelegs around him and pulling him against her warm belly fur.

"No, it's just a trick!" Molly cried. "An illusion! Hermione and Ron were meant! Severus is denying a preexisting magical bond!"

Hermione let out a gusty snort, and it blew Kingsley's hat off his head.

Molly shook her head adamantly. "It's impossible. Severus' curse was to be sealed by Sy—" She cut herself off with a gasp, her hand flying to her lips.

"So, that was the plan," Minerva huffed, dropping her teacup on the saucer. "I didn't think to ask Albus' portrait about Sybill specifically, only with regard to how the prophecy fit in with her. But now I can see that was pure folly on my part." She gave Molly a disgusted curl of the lips. "I can only be thankful, even if just for the sake of Hogwarts, that both Sybill and young Mr Weasley were quite inept at seducing their respective goals."

Ronald sputtered from the corner, but Hermione's low growl made him yelp in fear and loathing. "I don't want to be with her, mum! Look at her! She's a bloody monster!"

Hermione licked her chops with a loud slurp.

"No this is wrong. She wasn't supposed to be tainted," Molly insisted.

"We are not tainted, Molly," Severus said. "We were gifted, with survival—with each other. The spirit found us worthy to settle our magic in each other."

"Worthy? Of being a mere animal?"

"A mere animal?" Kingsley said with a scoff. "We are all animals, Molly. There are magicals. Muggles. Beasts. Beings. There are so many of us, Molly. So much more than simply Muggles and purebloods. When the darkness filled the night, shielded behind a curtain of fear of the unknown, there were things there before we ever knew magic. What are we but animals with wands? We like to believe ourselves better than our peers, than our fellow species, but are we really? Who is to say the spirit that entered their bodies didn't have a plan—a purpose. Who is to say it didn't have a greater purpose and scope beyond a year? Perhaps ten or even twenty? Do we tell ourselves that only those like Albus Dumbledore were capable of forethought? Must I be a Dark Lord or a seer to be seen as someone with sufficient talent to foreplan?"

Kingsley sighed heavily.

"It wasn't like that!" Molly said. "It was to keep the magic in the family! It wasn't like we were wanting purebloods to be with purebloods!"

"Besides, Hermione's parents just abandoned her! They didn't care if she saved their lives! They didn't care that she had no choice! She needs to be with our family. With magical people who can appreciate her!"

"But not her freedom to choose?" Severus growled. "Not her mind. Not Hermione herself. Just her magic, isn't that right, Molly?"

Molly's mouth flapped up and down and she shook her head. "You're twisting it around!"

"She helped save an entire world, Molly," Severus said. "We all played our parts in the hopes it would be enough to slay the dragon that was the Dark Lord. Mr Potter. Hermione Granger. Me. You. Even your son, Ronald. What makes you more qualified than anyone else to decide who marries your sons and daughter? Does Potter know? Does he know that you valued his magic over Potter himself? Did his vaults have anything to do with it?"

"It wasn't like that!"

Severus seemed to suddenly realise something. "That was why you were so very willing to let Albus have your twin brothers' vaults, wasn't it, Molly?" Severus said, his voice positively dripping with scorn. "Because you'd get it all back and more with just one strategic marriage. Magic. Money. Prestige. A bright future for your unborn grandchildren, and a grand future for the Weasley family magic. It was just a delightful bonus that Ginevra managed to endear herself to him, wasn't it? Of course, it was."

"And Hermione—" Severus continued. "She would be such an easy target, wouldn't she? Isolated from her Muggle parents even before the war. Did you encourage her to do desperate magic knowing that it would drive a wedge between her and her parents? Away from them and into your son's waiting grasp? But your son was a bit of a botch, wasn't he?"

Severus sneered at her. "Wrong foot from the very start. Bungler extraordinaire who sent her fleeing to a bathroom in tears—and only by some stroke of impossible luck did she survive that bloody troll and then Hermione's first lie endeared him to her. She took the blame for him—he and Potter. They could no less than befriend her, the liar, who saved them."

"And so, your master plan was going off without a hitch, only then he went and fell for the wrong girl, so I presume that delightful little visit that no one knew about save for the Hogwarts staff was you making very sure that Ronald said the right name in the midst of his alleged delirium. So that botch was fixed—and now what? Are you going to keep mopping up his failures for the rest of his life? Disallow him to make his own choices, good or bad? Where is the grown-up life in that? Besides, he's already made his choice, haven't you, Mr Weasley?"

Ron's voice squeaked. "Wut?!"

"Made someone pregnant, have you?" Severus' gaze was umbral. "Your aura is shared with another, and it is not my wife."

Molly gasped, staring at her youngest son with horror. "You're already married?"

"No!" Ron blurted. "Of course not!"

Molly seemed relieved before another look crossed her face as her eyes widened. "You're having a bastard?!"

"W-what?! N-no!" Ron

"Then you're getting married!"

"What? N-no!"

"But you're having a CHILD?!"

"Well—Astor—"

"You got another man's fiancée pregnant?!"

"I-it just kinda happened, mum! She was there after the game and—"

"So you stuck your cock into her?" Molly screeched.

Hermione resumed her mock-mauling of Kingsley as Molly descended upon her youngest male child with impotent fury, all of her best-laid plans nothing but dust in the wind.

Severus stroked his chin with his fingers. "I really have nothing to add to this whirlwind of pain and fury."

Minerva sipped her tea. "Will they go before the Wizengamot?"

Kingsley flailed a little under the Bunyip's avid mauling of his robes. "If there is anything left of them. We still have to question Arthur and the rest of the Weasley family under caution to see what their involvement was in this mess."

Minerva's eyes widened as Molly's voice reached glass-shattering screeches. "Shouldn't we maybe do something?"

Severus wrinkled his nose. "I seem to have forgotten where I put my wand."

Minerva gave him the side-eye. "You cast wandless magic."

"Do I?" Severus asked.

Minerva sighed. "The Malfoys are going to go to war over this. It will be like the Cunninghams and Montgomerys all over again."

Kingsley gently shoved Hermione's head out of the way as he tried to avoid getting basted. "Wars had been started over less than an over-eager cock," he said grimly.

Severus shook his head. "Some roosters are more trouble than others."

If someone would have been nice enough to tell me back when I was twelve that I should have told the truth about the troll and saved myself a lot of drama in my life, would it have made things better or worse?

Then again, I suppose if it hadn't happened that way, I wouldn't be where I am now, married to the love of my Bunyip life. Or maybe it would have. Fate is—strange. If something can span over a decade or two before being actualised, then that is something far more powerfully reaching than I can even fathom.

The Bunyip spirit is ancient, so it would be silly of me to think a few decades of careful planning hadn't been involved.

Severus says that the Wizarding World would have been nothing but motes of ash because if I hadn't been friends with "the two idiots" then Harry Potter wouldn't have survived to be the Boy That Lived To Cast Expelliarmus. He'd have most likely died to Fluffy or at least been so horribly maimed that saving the world would have been the least of his concerns. Ronald Weasley would have shared the bed right next to him at Mungos.

I told him that it wasn't like I would have been able to save the world on my own in his place. I was not and never will be some perfect Merlin-reincarnate demigod-ling—

And even Merlin had his faults, I'm sure. History is written and tweaked by the winners, as they say. If anything, writing my own reference books on magical creatures and the symbiosis between them is proving that the ones writing the books had no clue what they were talking about when it came to magical beasts. Those like Newt Scamander were probably pioneers of their time because they thought outside the accepted truths and even blatant lies. They paved the way with the truths they discovered themselves.

Severus says that I will be creating the references that people will look back on and say that they were the start of the truth about symbiotic magical creature relationships. Newt may have paved the way in regards to many a magical beast and the misconceptions about them, but I— we—are living the reality.

The barber birds seem oblivious to their newfound fame. They're just happy their Bunyips are happy because it means more nesting material for them. I have no doubt that they consider us "theirs," either.

One of the barber babies took a shine to Kingsley's hat and wouldn't leave it. The father bird drove the little interloper back to the nest! It was a flurry of chirps and pecking. I couldn't help but think that little fledgling had a sore rump back at the nest like some contrite child who got caught with its hand in the biscuit tin.

I can only imagine how that would go down in barber bird society. Their young son chose to nest in a human hat instead of making a proper nest! The gall! The humiliation!

I'm glad to be here at Hogwarts avoiding the cyclone that is the Malfoys versus the Weasleys. It's all over the Prophet. Draco challenged Ron to a duel to the death, citing the old laws for bringing shame and dishonour to his name, and Astoria is at least safe from death duels thanks to being pregnant. She's not safe from the shame, though. The Greengrass family disowned her. The Malfoy family wants nothing to do with her.

I feel horrible for her even though she made the choice to sleep with Ron. Old Wizarding laws and traditions are still a bit too ingrained even after the war. Ironically, if she were a Muggle, it wouldn't be so bad. Drama, yes, but not families duelling to the death—usually. I'm sure there are some families that would still consider it.

And Ron—

He's always followed his lower brain into trouble ever since the end of the war. He wasn't like that before, but how much of that was because we were too busy trying to survive is anyone's guess.

The drama swirling around the Weasley family right now makes the misunderstanding between Severus and me look like a spring picnic on the green, and they haven't even made it to the Wizengamot over it yet.

Apparently, the duel to the death supersedes a trial.

Gotta love Wizarding priorities.

Sheesh.

I suppose I should be more grateful that some things have changed since the end of the war. It could have remained the same even after everything we fought for. Change in the Wizarding World seems slower than I'd imagined it to be. I thought—

Well, I thought something like war would make change a bit easier, but what is easier compared to rolling a boulder up a hill in Dante's Inferno?

Small steps toward big changes. If the Bunyip spirit could wait decades or possibly centuries to put Severus and me together to spread our yiplings across the world, then maybe I need to look at things with a little more patienc—(ink smear, lake weed, and claw rips)

Hermione wrote frantically over the parchment before tying it to the owl's leg. The Hogwarts owl hooted softly before launching into the air and disappearing. A pair of young barber birds landed on the window and sang sweetly as they waited for their lunch. Their parents were out in the world dutifully finding food for their hungry offspring, confident that their children were safe with their Bunyip friends so both of them could forage together simultaneously. Occasionally the mum or dad would fly in and stuff insects into their bottomless chicks and fly off again.

Hermione smiled as the young birds sat on the ledge, every so often attempting to catch a roaming beetle or other insect. Their aim was a little off, so the antics were a bit comical. They seemed to get frustrated at their own skill or lack thereof, and they took it out on their sibling with a flurry of squeaky chirps and pecks before settling again looking fluffy and disgruntled.

They left the house spiders alone, thankfully, almost as if they knew house spiders wouldn't take kindly to such nonsense as being eaten in their own home.

There was a groaning whuft from the sunbeam, and a dark brown Bunyip with a dark purple scruff yawned as three young yiplings tugged on a tail, ear, and whatever else they could get their teeth on.

Her beloved children had done what the self-control of an older Bunyip had prevented and converted their favourite yipling sitter into the family— not that Kingsley ever seemed to take anything badly. He seemed almost amused and relieved. She wasn't sure why he'd be relieved— but maybe it had something to do with the fact he truly loved her little blighters.

After Hermione realised her yiplings were contagious, Poppy had installed the first-ever fang caps for yiplings. Her children seemed totally unphased by it, gnawing on Kingsley and furniture like they were trying to be beavers. Poppy always examined the little mischief-makers with dragonhide gloves, proving that Poppy was never unprepared for any situation during a medical examination.

Poppy was, after a few samples taken and analysed extensively, convinced that it wasn't the bite that was contagious but the intent of the Bunyip spirit. That had far-reaching implications that both Severus and she had been very deliberately singled out for the gift from the Bunyip spirit.

Perhaps, Kingsley, too.

Even Severus admitted that Kingsley had always been a rational, dependable friend who saw far more in people than he'd ever let on. Unlike Moody, he saw the good in people first. It didn't seem limited to humans, either.

And Minerva also, had not been showing signs of nocturnal Bunyip proclivities, and she'd been watching the yiplings quite a bit, too.

It was a mystery, Hermione figured. Much like babyfolds.

Walter rustled as he clung to her shoulders. A few of his children scattered into the dark of the room, playing with the house spiders. They were all the size of a hand towel having started about the size of a small doily. The Department of Mysteries had already come and measured, weighed, and registered them, so when it came time for them to "leave the nest" and find partners of their own, they'd already been accustomed to being handled and hand-fed by humans.

Severus, Hermione knew, thought it was amusing watching various people attempt to coax the babyfolds out from Walter or his mate, Cleo. Sometimes it went well, and sometimes the poor DoM representatives were sadly disappointed.

Lethifolds, as Amelia often said, had their own way of things.

They were, Hermione was delighted to discover, perfectly well-mannered, and they would take food out of their hands with a soft scrape against them. The centaur realised Lethifolds could clean the stubborn meat off bones so efficiently that they could be made into tools almost immediately, so they would offer up the remains of their carcasses for the Lethifolds to clean.

The centaur had perfectly pristine bones for tools with no waste, and the Lethifolds were pleasantly fed.

It was yet another addition to Hermione's growing book of magical beast research.

Kingsley let out a lazy yawn that ended in a growling squeak, and he shook his mane, sending yiplings in all directions. He stood, the yiplings desperately trying to scramble back on top of their favourite playtoy with limited success.

Hermione smiled at him, rubbing him under the chin in his favourite spot. "Thank you for keeping them occupied while I finished all this paperwork. I never thought publishing a reference textbook would be so time-consuming."

Kingsley whufted, his muzzle twisted into a Bunyip smile that would have scared the uninitiated. His tail wrapped around one yipling that was trying his best to set himself on fire in the fireplace and pulled him out, tucking him into the "crib" Severus had constructed of brush and lake weed.

The other yiplings climbed up and into the nest and yawned, turned a few times, stomped their feet in a padding motion, and then flopped in a pile together, pinning their wayward brother under their combined weight. The errant yipling let out a sad squeak of impotent mischief managed but was soon fast asleep with his siblings.

Hermione laughed quietly as Kingsley joined her at the table in human form. He took the tea that was in stasis waiting for him. "It was no problem, my friend. It takes a village, and I know that Severus is hard at work on his secret project."

Hermione laughed. "He's been at it for a year now," Hermione said with an amused shake of her head. "We both have our projects," she said with a smile. "Mine, however, is finally done. Symbiotic Beasts, Myths and Reality will be out in time for the autumn term."

"Congratulations, Hermione," Kingsley said with approval. "You deserve it."

"You do deserve the highest praise," Severus said, his voice a rumble as he entered the house. Cleo billowed behind him to accentuate his entry, and Hermione rose to meet him with a heartfelt embrace. They and their Lethifolds wrapped around each other as they reunited.

"Welcome home," Hermione said warmly. "Tea?"

"Am I British?" Severus said with a snort. "Though, you may want to set two extra seats."

"Oh! Is Amelia and someone coming?"

"Someone, assuredly," Severus said dryly, an eyebrow arched. He pulled a bundle out from his robes and placed it on the table. "My project is done."

"Oh! You wrote something?" Hermione said excitedly.

"Obviously."

Hermione pfted at him as she unwrapped the bundle. "Did you make your own reference for herbs and magical fungi for use in potions?" She halted as her eyes cast over the title of the book.

War of Magic: The Rise of the Dark Lords and the People Who Followed and Fought Them

True Stories From Two Sides of a War

Collected by Severus T. Snape

"Severus?" Hermione whispered.

"I know I never talked about my past much—my motivations, or my experiences," Severus said, "but I realised that we all had a story to tell about the war. What drove us. What inspired us. What made us. Some of the stories were not things to be proud of, but they were the truth. They were things that ultimately led to what we have now, and it had to be recorded before someone began to rewrite them. Forget them. Dismiss them."

"That's wonderful, Severus," Hermione said, taking his hand. "But why didn't you say something? Why keep it a secret?"

"I had—ulterior motives," Severus said. "Motives I could not reveal lest my plan fail. I did not want to say anything because I didn't want to disappoint you."

"Severus, you could never disappoint me," Hermione said. "We're in this together, and I love you."

Severus kissed her forehead. "I have succeeded, Hermione. In this I could not fail and look you in the eye."

"Severus—"

He placed one finger over her lips. He walked over to the door and opened it again, and two figures slowly, tentatively, walked into the room. They looked at her, eyes wide and darting. They both seemed to swallow at the same time, tension in every wrinkle.

The barber birds swooped over them and nailed them on the rump, driving them further inside.

"Mum?" Hermione gasped. "Dad?"

"We read the book," her father said in a rush. "The stories. The deaths. People lost. The zealots. The innocents—those like us, murdered for no other reason than not being magical. Young and old, fighting each other to survive."

"We're sorry, love," her mother said in a whisper. "We're sorry we didn't believe you."

"We want to have you in our lives again," her father said. "We want to be in yours too—if you will have us."

Hermione's body trembled, and Walter wrapped around her soothingly. Tears flowed down her cheeks, but she stood frozen, unable to move, to breathe, to say anything.

The babyfolds tugged on her hair, leading her onward to her parents.

With a choking cry, Hermione fell into their arms, sobbing. "I'm so sorry!"

They held her, their tears joining hers.

"We're so sorry, too, love."

Her father gave Severus a look. "Your intimidating husband convinced us to read a little history. He gave us a look that made me feel like I was back in primary school with Mrs Butterworth."

Hermione choked on a laugh, biting her lip.

"It was the dedication that got me to read it," Mrs Granger confessed, looking guilty.

Hermione frowned. "Dedication?"

Mrs Granger pointed to the book on the table.

Hermione approached it warily as one might a saltwater crocodile. She gently opened the cover and leafed to the first pages. The smell of fresh parchment caused her to close her eyes in appreciation before she found the dedication. Her eyes began to water again, and she sniffled.

To Hermione Snape, who saved the Boy-Who-Lived so he could save Britain and who ultimately saved me from myself that I might know what love truly is.

She flung herself into Severus' robes, clinging to him and his Lethifold. "I love you so much," she sobbed into his wool and buttons.

Severus held her against him, his expression caught between pain and ecstasy. "I love you too," he whispered. "Always."

And they lived Bunyiply Ever After...

A/N: Work has kept me sufficiently depressed that writing hasn't been very inspirational for a while. I refuse to force myself to write when I am not in a good place, as no one needs that kind of real-life stress leaking into my fantasy stories! I thank those who have sent me messages wishing me well, and while I cannot promise when I'll be writing again, I do read every review and thank you for every one of them. Be well and be safe out there.