Author's Note:

The Houses Competition (or THC) Round 6

Story Type: Standard (up to 3,000 words)

House: Hufflepuff

Class: Astronomy

Prompt: [Theme] 2.Trying (or succeeding) to understand what somebody is going through. 3. [Colour] Cerulean Blue

Word Count: 2,744

Disclaimers/triggers: Some transformation (slight body horror) but nothing graphic. Alcohol mentioned. Snamione HEA/Severus Lives AU.

Beta Love: Thanks to Sarah and Amanda for looking over my story!

In the Light of the Moon

"She's coming tomorrow night, Minerva. Please, can you keep Hermione busy? She can't know—hold on, I thought I heard something." Severus pulled his head out of the fireplace and looked suspiciously around at his study. Nothing seemed out of place, and the door was still half-open at the small chalkmark he'd placed on the floor. He knew it was overkill—the war was over—but old habits were hard to break.

He stuck his head back in. "Sorry, I must be hearing things in my old age. Anyway, I would consider it a great personal favor..."

He did not see the vague outline of a figure pressed against the far hall wall struggling to breathe deeply and evenly. When she was certain Severus would not see, Hermione moved quickly back to the bedroom she and Severus shared. She was supposed to be sleeping, but she'd had to get up to use the toilet, and when she'd heard the roar of the floo activating, she'd decided to investigate. It had been a mistake, or at least, it had begun to cause her...problem...to surface.

Her hand was starting to bubble, and her fingers already looked as though they were covered in cerulean blue boils, even though she knew better. Hermione went directly to her nightstand and pulled out the drawer, opening the false bottom with her unaffected hand and pulling out a small phial. The liquid inside sloshed back and forth like heart's blood. Curling her lip in disgust, she pulled the stopper off before she could lose her nerve and downed the bottle. To hide the distinctive odor from the Potions master, she pulled a flask out of the compartment as well and downed a few bracing mouthfuls of firewhisky. It was a race against time to get everything back into the drawer before she passed out on the bed, but at least her hand had gone back to normal. He could never know the truth.

She was a monster.

Severus pulled away from the flames with the weariness of a wizard twice his age. It always got like this the closer the moon came to its final state before shrinking away again for another month.

Nagini's venom hadn't just destroyed his throat and poisoned his blood. It had also come with a price to pay if he lived through the ordeal. And, unfortunately, he had lived. A unicorn, of all creatures, had appeared at his side and cried tears upon his wounds. The tears purified his blood and healed his throat, but he was still weak and barely able to move in the wreckage as the paralysis slowly wore off. He lay there until the moon had risen, swollen and full.

It was then that he began to change. Painful spasms racked through his body, his bones popping and clicking as they shifted, reformed, and remade him. He was too weak to even scream, writhing on the floor as his body became alien to him.

He rose slowly in the shaft of moonlight that fell through the fractured ceiling of the Shrieking Shack. His arms glowed with golden scales, and he realized that his head felt higher than it normally sat upon his neck. Gingerly, he lifted his aching arms and felt a long, thick, scaly neck widening out into the folds of a hood. He moved upward towards his face, and felt his mouth crack open out of instinct, letting loose a long, horrible forked tongue that picked up scents he'd never tasted before. He looked down, wondering at the height he now stood, though stood was not exactly the word for what he was doing, for he no longer had any legs. Instead, a massive tail coiled under him.

Somehow, he'd changed into some sort of—

"Monssssster," he hissed, covering his eyes with his hands and sinking down in the debris in despair.

Severus had feared that the change was permanent. When he awoke the next morning in human form, he had grabbed his wand and apparated away to one of his bolt-holes in Hogsmeade. He grabbed a new set of robes, used a few charms to alter his face a bit, and went to purchase a portkey to France. He'd laid low there for years in an old villa that the Malfoys had given him permission to use, but no matter what, when the moon rose in the sky, his body changed. Though it was a comfort to keep his mind, it was a small comfort, indeed. His form was so bulky and awkward that it had taken him months to learn how to move with any sense of grace.

Still, now he was at least a little freer than he'd been in Wizarding Britain. When he'd met Hermione in the Parisian Potioneers Association a decade later, he'd nearly fled the country, but she was a different person than she'd been when he'd seen her last. She looked older, more beaten down by the world. There was something in her expression that he recognized in himself, and so they put aside their history and became colleagues. Eventually, things had blossomed further and they'd finally admitted their feelings for one another, but it had taken two years before they finally both agreed to move in together.

Severus was terrified that it would all come crashing down on his first full moon. He'd thought about inventing some sort of business trip, but what business trip only happens once a month on the full moon? He needed to figure out a rotating slew of reasons so that she would never find out. That was why he'd invited Minerva, who had retired to a little village nearby and who'd been sworn to secrecy about his condition, to come by and distract Hermione for the evening.

"I'll think of next month after I've survived this one," he mused, hunched forward and staring into the flames as though they would give him the answer he needed.

If she was being honest, Hermione hadn't gotten into potioneering out of purely scholarly interest. It had all begun with a terrible accident when she'd re-taken her seventh year. Hermione had been trying an ambitious experimental potion to prove that there was an additional use for dragon's blood, when Neville's toad had once again escaped and jumped right next to her caldron just as she was about to pour the dragon's blood into it. With a cry of surprise, she pulled back to avoid spilling it on the toad and spilled it all over herself instead. Dragon's blood would have been bad enough on its own, but the toad then hopped toward her and she stumbled out of the way, her robes catching under her other foot and sending her crashing to the floor along with the cauldron, which had her experimental mixture bubbling away inside of it. On top of the horrible burns she'd received and healed in secret, Hermione had only later discovered that when she experienced any strong emotions, her body would break out in shining cerulean blue scales. Her fingernails would harden into sharp, shiny claws. She'd never dared to look in the mirror, but she could feel her teeth elongating in her mouth, often to the point of cutting her tongue.

Hermione was lucky that she had already taught herself a number of calming techniques to get her through exams and fight death eaters. It took some time, but she could reverse it. If she didn't have time, though, she had to use special calming potions. This was far from ideal, though, and she'd had to cover up the potion stench with alcohol, giving her an unsavory reputation. Contrary to her friends' beliefs, Hermione hadn't gone to any parties since her accident. She was too afraid that the loud noise would startle her into giving away her secret.

She'd thrown herself into researching a cure, but so far she had not been able to find anything beyond improving her calming potions. She kept at least two flasks on hand at any one time and had been nearly caught by Severus once or twice when she'd needed to take a swig. He had thankfully not noticed the scales, as she regularly wore gloves. There had been a few close calls at the beginning of their relationship. It helped that Severus kept the lighting dim yet cosy in the flat, and neither of them tended to go out to loud events.

Moving in with Severus hadn't exactly been planned. She'd moved in only a few weeks earlier after her lease had run out.

She smiled as she recalled how he'd taken her hand and blurted, "You can stay with me as indefinitely as you'd like!"

It was fairly out of character for the tall, reserved wizard, whose groundbreaking research on wizarding skin conditions was second to none. The scar that shone at his throat was so faded that it was nearly unnoticeable.

But after overhearing the floo call, Hermione was worried. Who was this mysterious woman that Severus didn't want her to meet? Surely, it wasn't a colleague. A family member, perhaps? Was he afraid to tell them about her for some reason?

Her mind whirred, even under the influence of the calming potion and she could feel the prickling sensation of those cerulean blue scales rising up her arms as she thought of a beautiful woman, someone closer to his age.

"Someone who isn't a monster," she murmured, sinking down into oblivion.

Severus paced back and forth in the kitchen. Hermione was avoiding him, and he didn't know why. For a moment his anxiety had spiked when he remembered that noise the night before. But when he'd returned to their bedroom, Hermione had been deep asleep. The only thing amiss was that there was a slight smell of firewhiskey and she'd kicked the covers off her side of the bed. He'd tucked her back in and kissed her before falling into a restless sleep of his own.

This would be his first transformation night living with Hermione. He'd always had plenty of space to plan to spend the nights in his monstrous form before, but he'd invited Hermione to come to live with him, so that would hardly be possible any longer.

"Of course I would say indefinitely," he muttered, running his fingers down his face in exasperation.

"Good morning, Severus," Hermione said from behind him, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"H-Hermione!" Severus stepped backward and banged into the handle of one of the pans he'd left to dry on the stovetop. Hermione looked tired, and Severus thought back to the firewhiskey smell. She didn't drink the way his father had, but he had the distinct impression that she was hiding it, which was not a good sign. The smell brought back bad memories.

"I could use some coffee," she said, moving towards the sink to get some water.

"It's fine!" Severus said, "I was about to make some, anyway."

He put the electric kettle on as Hermione walked over to the cabinet and reached up to grab the bag of instant coffee. Something bright and cerulean blue flashed out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned his head to get a better look at it, she'd already closed the cabinet door and was giving him a strange look.

"Are you ok, Severus?" she asked.

"I...I must be seeing things," he replied, grabbing a pair of clean mugs from the drying rack.

She handed him the bag and gave him an apologetic look. "I forgot something in my room," she said, and made a hasty retreat.

Severus stared after her. Something was not right. Without thinking it through, he followed her only to find the bedroom door closed.

He opened the door, only to see Hermione hastily hide a flask in her pocket. A strange, pungent smell filled the room, but he knew it wasn't firewhiskey.

"What's going on?" Severus asked. "Are you...having problems with alcohol, Hermione?"

Hermione let out a small cry of pain, and Severus saw her gloved hand twitch as she took deep breaths and tried to calm herself. It seemed as though she was about to have a panic attack, and he felt terrible for being the cause of it.

"I could ask you the same!" Hermione retorted, and Severus backed up, confused at her unusual outburst. "Who is she?"

"She?" He repeated dumbly.

"Yes!" Hermione's eyes began to grow watery.

Severus was frozen between wanting to run to comfort her and run from the room as he realized just what she meant.

"You can't be here tonight," he said, dropping all pretense. She'd caught him, and now it was time for him to come clean. "It will be too upsetting."

Hermione stepped forward and Severus was momentarily afraid she would slap him. Instead, she pulled off her gloves in one fluid motion and held up her hands. "How is this for upsetting!?" she cried.

At first, Severus wasn't sure what he was looking at. She appeared to be wearing a strange pair of scaly cerulean blue gloves with claws growing—wait, no, those weren't gloves at all. Transfixed, he watched the scales growing up her wrists and arms, disappearing into the folds of her robes. They bloomed on Hermione's cheeks, glowing beautifully as tears streamed freely from her eyes.

"Now you know the truth," she hiccupped. "I'm a monster."

"No, no, no," he soothed, gathering her in his arms. "That could not be further from the truth. You are no monster."

"Truly?" Hermione looked up at him and he could see the moment when her amber eyes went golden and slitted, just like a dragon's. Small horns curled backwards from the bushy coils of her hair like a ram's.

"You are beautiful, no matter what form you take," Severus said, and kissed her scaly lips softly. "And I, too, have not been fully honest. I too have a secret."

"Who is she? An old flame?" He could feel her heart hammering against her chest as he held her close. She was so afraid, and it wasn't of any monster, it was the fear that he loved another.

"She is not a person," Severus explained. "She is what I call the moon. I am cursed to wear the form of the naga each month, and though I retain my mind, I lose my form. I'm a monster. I couldn't bear for you to see me like that, Hermione."

Hermione's slitted pupils bloomed until they were dark and round as she said, "Show me."

They waited in the sunroom for the moon to rise. It was large enough for Severus to avoid knocking anything over once he had transformed, and it gave them an unimpeded view of the sunset.

"Does it hurt?" Hermione asked, her fingers entwined in his.

He noticed that she no longer wore her gloves, but there were only a few cerulean blue scales still present on her otherwise normal skin. They'd sunk back into her body as she'd calmed down, and she'd even put on a tank top instead of her customary robes so he could see the way they rose and speckled her skin as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. She was beautiful, but he could see how they pained her, and it only doubled his resolve to find a cure to relieve her suffering.

"It is...uncomfortable. It may be upsetting to watch, but I will be fine." He could feel the change coming upon him, but with Hermione by his side, he did not feel his usual fear. "Will you please stay by my side until it is done?"

"I would not dream of doing anything else," she replied, kissing him softly.

When the transformation hit him, Severus felt it course through him more gently than before. Perhaps it was because he was not attempting to fight it. In any case, when he finally rose to his full height, golden scales shining, Hermione ran to him and took his hands, marveling at his form.

"You are beautiful, Severus!" she cried, and he felt his heart swell at the depth of her love for him.

She stroked his scales lovingly, and he felt strong and beloved. Her face was serene and bright, and best of all free of cerulean blue as they slowly danced under the swollen light of the full moon.