DISCLAIMER:

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books,

Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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The next morning did not begin with songbirds and sunlight. It was grey and still… ominously still. 

The tranquillity was disturbed only by Madam Pomfrey, who primly entered the white hall and immediately went about her normal morning duties: patting down the last of her hospital corners on the infirmary beds, opening the curtains with a decisive swish of her wand - when she stopped mid-wave and frowned.

Where was Professor Snape? She had left him curled up beside the fish tank last night. She had left him steadfastly refusing the tempting mice tidbits that Filch put in front of him and hissing anytime anyone human deigned to come near him. It was such a pity being a snake had not improved his temper, Poppy thought as she cast her gaze about the ward. All that glowering and hissing could not be good for his cortisol levels.

She moved to and strummed the workbench with thoughtful fingers. He was right here last night, night-induced torpor he could not have gotten far… Some snit he's gotten himself into this time, she thought. Quite rightly so, wanting to molest a student. Snake or man he should be shot!

She picked at a bit of fluff on her apron and wandered over to the aquarium, glancing at all the windowsills and radiators looking for a small black snake.

No.

Humph.

Where was he?

She put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. Well! He'll come out from wherever he's sulking eventually.  He always does.

No need to let Hermione suffer for his incivility.

Pomfrey touched the lid of the fish tank, lifted it partway open and paused. That's strange… She frowned; what's that smell? It's similar to the odour in the disused storeroom near the Hufflepuff dorm… She adjusted the weight of the lid in her hands. Has this lid been moved? She shoved heavy cover all the way off and –

Let it not be said that ladies - no matter how quiet and demure they appear, cannot swear like drunken sailors when the occasion calls for it. Madam Pomfrey respected Mediwitch and gentle healer of Quidditch injuries was no exception. She was sailing into the Indies, flying the Jolly Roger and turning the pale morning air a startling crackling electric blue.

Enraged and spitting out curses, the Mediwitch barely had time to fumble on a glove before she extracted the very floppy length of black adder out of the tank and flung it onto the workbench. It was doubly infuriating the way Snape bounced like a rubber hose when he hit the tabletop and the way he lazily flopped over to show her his underbelly with a barely audible sigh. Pomfrey did not need to speak parsel tongue to read Severus Snape's expression. It was fairly glowing with smugly satisfied maleness.

"Severus!" She roared. The adder struggled to open an eye. He sleepily gazed at her, totally nonplussed. "WHAT did you think you were doing?!"


Before she could get an answer, (not that she expected one, as it was obvious he knew what he had been doing - but a contrite look would be nice), Snape was joined by the smaller green snake that was Hermione Granger who slithered out of the tank and crawled up next to him. Appalled Poppy watched as the pair of adders touched noses, flicked tongues and curled up together in one contented heap.

"Well, if that's the way you want to play it?" She seethed and without further ado, picked up an exhausted Hermione and deposited her back into the aquarium before firmly securing the lid and putting a stack of medical journals on top for good measure. "Right! Wait till the Head Master hears about this!"

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It was a short half an hour later that the Head Master, Flitwick, Harry and Ron had assembled in the infirmary.

While Dumbledore and Flitwick looked over the counter curse again and tested the potency of the potion of the magical equivalent of litmus paper Ron was trying to talk to Hermione. At least he was trying and failing to converse with the green snake, Hermione was far more intent on the black adder who was beside him on the workbench.

"What's Snape doing?" Ron stage whispered to Harry, eyeing the black adder as it swayed and bobbed. "Doing a snake dance?"

Harry had told Ron about the botched counter spell and how Hermione was now a snake, however, he had not explained about the perplexing content of Snape and Hermione's discussion from the day before and did not really want to. How could he explain that? How could he tell your best friend that your other best friend wanted to have sex with Snape? He shuddered; it did not bear thinking about. Thank goodness Dumbledore had intervened before things had gone too far.

"He's still at it?" Pomfrey told Ron, when she approached the boys, putting down the heavy spell book. "Disgusting."

 "He's not a very good dancer is he?" Ron said totally oblivious to the tension in the air. He tapped the glass to get Hermione's attention. "What's he saying to her anyway, Harry? Something about the spell?"

"Ah- no Ron." Harry paled, his gaze darting about for a moment as he thought. He did not want to translate Snape's words. Harry was only grateful that the tank muffled Hermione's replies because he was sure they would be as equally - adult. Giving up he blushed to the tips of his ears. "He's just – you know – displaying."

"He's making a spectacle of himself that's for sure." Ron frowned. 

"Humph!" Pomfrey snorted. Ron looked up at the agitated Mediwitch and then swivelled on his stool to look back at the Head Master, Flitwick and Harry. Why was Pomfrey behaving so strangely? He pouted. And why was everyone but him ignoring the snakes? Weren't they the reason they were here?

"You want some music?" Ron asked, shoving his wand out toward Snape, but the snake reared up and hissed at him. Ron pocketed his wand and murmured, "Alright. It was just a suggestion."

"Ron…" Harry warned, his voice thinning making Ron look at him. "He's dis-play-ing."

"I can see that Harry." Ron said getting peeved, but not getting it at all.

Harry looked to Madam Pomfrey for assistance and with an air of irritation the woman stepped into the fray with prim disapproval. "Mr Weasley, with the size of your family I would assume you have heard about the birds and the bees?"


"Birds? Bees?" Ron's face went from mild puzzlement to pallid outright horror. "You mean s-e-x?" His eyes bugged. "He's- Snape's-" He squeaked, "what?"

"Professor Snape is enticing Hermione to mate with him."


Before Madam Pomfrey could stop him Ron had plastered his hands and face against the glass and shrieked. "Don't do it Hermione!"

"Too late I fear." Dumbledore patted his shoulder and drew him back. "Boys, I'm afraid something untoward occurred last night…"

There was a moment of heart stopping realisation where everyone was frozen in place, everyone that is but Snape, who still caught up in mating dance swaying and swirling before the tank that held his mate.

"What? You don't mean?" Harry stood up and forgot not to listen to the snakes. He overheard Snape promising to do the lewdest thing with Hermione imaginable. Felt promptly ill, put his hands over his ears and sat down looking pale and wan.

Pomfrey was shocked at the Head Masters audacity. Her hand covered her mouth hoping the admission would fade away. That was it! The Ministry would be here by lunchtime.

While Ron, his mouth quivering closed his eyes tightly and put his hands over them, pleading. "Not with Snape! Not that! Hermione, how could you? No no no no!"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. It only makes our need to counter the transformation rather more imperative."

"Yes!" Ron dropped his hands to reveal a face contorted in revulsion. "Yes yes yes! Please yes!" He was almost sobbing.

Harry meanwhile, his head down, face grim, hands clenched against his ears was heard only to mutter. "I'm going to kill Draco Malfoy if it's the last thing I do!"

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tbc