Wonder Witch Love Potion 69

Hermione's life takes another tumble as she wakes up to realize she made a huge mistake, changing everything she was certain about and everything she counted on completely around on for her forever. At least she has work to fall back on and a place to go to find answers.

From A Dream Into A Nightmare

Hermione went straight to her pantry to find anything to ease her hangover. After taking several aspirin tablets, she walked to her loo to take a long hot shower. Whoever that man was who had resembled Severus Snape so remarkably was last night, their marathon lovemaking had not only left her exhausted, and still throbbing down there, but also stiff and sore all over. The problem was it had been mind-blowing great sex! He had really taken an extraordinary amount of time touching, caressing, and savoring every part of her body that Hermione simply couldn't call it sex. He'd made love to her, and he didn't even know her name. At least I don't think he did. They hadn't spoken. Not one word, not one question, except for a few hushed words in the alley when he'd asked her to come home with him. Home? That couldn't have been his home! It had to be his mum's, aunt's, or some female relative! And he was a wizard; he'd Apparated us to that house.

The entire house, what she remembered of it, had looked just like Dolores Umbridge's office at Hogwarts. Hermione didn't know she had relatives, certainly not sexy male ones. Hermione gave up on extending her shower. She dried off, applied lotion, and dressed. She needed Hangover Potion in order to think clearly. She Flooed over to Grimmauld Place, falling flat on her face, groaning in agony from the trip, and rolled over to see Kreacher looking down at her. "Is Ginny or Harry home?" she moaned softly.

Ginny showed up as Hermione was trying to rise up off the floor. "Oh, my goodness! What happened?" she exclaimed, rushing over to help her up.

"I'll tell you if you promise to whisper and can spare me some Hangover Potion," Hermione groaned softly, clutching her head.

Ginny said something over her shoulder as she assisted Hermione to walk toward the kitchen. As soon as Hermione sat down gingerly at the kitchen table, Kreacher handed her a cup of the potion.

Hermione never felt more gratitude toward the elf in her whole life. "Kreacher, when your time comes, I will personally get the nicest wall plaque I can find for your head."

Kreacher looked at her with the second most pleased expression she'd seen him have, then he turned to Ginny, and his gleeful expression fell as he bowed and left, mumbling. Hermione turned to Ginny, confused.

"Harry's decided that the long honored tradition of cutting off the house-elf's head and mounting it on the wall is not going to be continued," Ginny said softly. "I think Kreacher is crushed. So, how about a spot of breakfast and tea, and you tell me what happened?"

Hermione looked up at the doorway. "First, is Ron here?"

"No."

Hermione turned back to Ginny. "Okay, but this has to stay between us. I'm not ready to tell Ron anything yet."

"Gryffindor's honor," Ginny said with her hand on her heart. Hermione began telling her what happened, as much as she could remember, about everything that had happened since she'd stormed out of the house the night before, glossing over the sex parts with Severus Snape's doppelganger in the most basic of explanations. "No! You? You did, didn't you?" was about all Ginny could say after.

"The thing is, Ginny, I keep dreaming about Severus Snape. It's really weird," Hermione confessed. "I think it's guilt. If I had done something for him that day—tried to help him—but I didn't. I just waited, watched, and… Oh, Gin it was awful!"

"What could you have done?" Ginny asked. "We all saw the memories, and Harry told me how he died."

"It was the horror of what I saw in the Shack that really got to me. All that blood, and to have died so senselessly. I never even got to thank him," Hermione said, finally telling someone what had plagued her all this time. "Okay, he would never have sat down and had drinks with me, talking about our parts in the war, but I never really thought he'd die by a bite to the neck."

"What surprised me were the memories he gave Harry," Ginny said. "Not the ones that told Harry the truth about his life, what he had to do. It was the ones about his love for Harry's mum. How beautiful and endearing they were, his pining away like that for her. I can't even imagine."

"But you did, Ginny, over Harry for years until you finally let him go and started living for yourself." To Hermione's relief her hangover was finally going away. "The problem is that I—I found them to be a little creepy. It was almost possessive and obsessive, the way he used to look at her when they were children."

Kreacher set toast, fruit, and cheese on the table. Hermione began to eat, suddenly realizing she was famished. "Although, that one memory in Grimmauld Place when he'd found the picture of Harry and his parents, seeing him crying like that with such despair, really drove home just how alone he was in all this mess. I mean, he had no one to turn to, obviously, or to confide in. And Dumbledore! I had always thought he'd cared—but did you see that one memory? He was simply using Severus exactly like he was using Harry—as a means to an end. And then after Snape killed Dumbledore, he was totally cut off. Dumbledore hadn't even told his plans or explained anything—to anyone! He didn't even confide in Professor McGonagall. Or Flitwick! He just left Snape cut off and alone. Snape had no friends, the members of the Order turned against him, and of course, his colleagues completely distrusted him. He was hated by everyone. He was considered a traitor and murderer—except by the very people he was working to bring down and destroy—and they never knew he'd turned on them. He must have been so afraid all the time, and so lonely having to carry such a burden, dealing with all that mistrust and having to constantly be on guard all the time. He simply bore it all alone without any support at all. It's just so depressingly sad."

Kreacher walked in carrying the mail and copies of the Daily Prophet. Hermione flipped the paper over searching the last few pages to see if her article made it into the edition.

"Oh, my gods!" Ginny exclaimed, suddenly going quite pale. She looked up at Hermione in shock. "He's alive!"

"Who?" Hermione asked, confused.

Ginny seemed to ignore the question as she finished reading the article in the paper with her mouth agape. "Severus Snape!" she finally stated. "He went to the Ministry—after all this time—he just walked right into the Minister's office!"

"No!" Hermione turned over the paper and stared at the picture of Severus Snape, looking exactly as he had in her dreams, standing next to Minister Shacklebolt, shaking hands. "Bloody hell!"

"No, wonder he never showed up in his portrait at Hogwarts. Harry was really upset about…" Ginny said, then looked at Hermione and reached out to touch her arm. "Hermione?"

"Oh, my gods!It couldn't have been him!" Hermione's mind was in a whirlwind. "He looked so much like him! But his voice—it wasn't the same—not smooth or silky. Rough. The snakebite. Oh. No. I couldn't have!"

"Hermione?" Ginny asked worried.

"I think I shagged Severus Snape in Dolores Umbridge's bedroom!" Hermione gasped, feeling like she was going to faint.

"No!" Ginny exclaimed, gobsmacked.

"At my dad's favorite tavern—he looked similar—but different. Transfigured? Glamoured!" she said covering her mouth. "Could he have used a Glamour Charm? But the man at the opera… His voice—I hadn't recognized his voice, but it was the same as… and his hair was shorter… But it was dark—I couldn't really see him. Same build… It might have been him—but why would he," she stammered incoherently.

"Hermione you're not making any sense. You think it was Snape?" Ginny asked.

"I have to go to work. I'll have to try to sort this out somehow," she replied, still gobsmacked. "I have no idea how to owl him, or how to find him… Circe! Do I even want to?" She looked at the clock on the wall. "Shite, I'm really late. Come by after dinner?"

"Okay," Ginny said. "We'll talk more tonight!"

—{ }—

Kingsley wasn't in his office. Hermione didn't know what to tell his receptionist except that she wanted to speak with him on a private matter.

Harry wasn't in the Auror office. Ron was, but Hermione quickly told him she wasn't ready to deal with him and if he followed her or pushed her to speak with him, she'd assail him with gold finches again. Wanda Swansen, one of the biggest gossips in the world, who was delivering some files at the time, overheard their brief fight and watched Hermione storm out of the Auror office. Great! Now everyone will know! At least every clerk, secretary, and receptionist in the Ministry! I should just take out an ad in the Daily Prophet. Hermione Granger dumps Ronald Weasley because she caught him shagging Megan Jones! Now the last place she wanted to be was in the Ministry of Magic building.

Back in her office, she saw letters on her desk, the first with her name on it and urgent written in huge letters underneath. Hermione groaned. She knew George's writing and knew that it couldn't be good. When she picked it up, the second letter was obviously from Mrs. Weasley and the third was from Bill. Quickly scanning her interdepartmental memos, she saw two that made her cringe: one from Percy and the second from Mr. Weasley. News in the Weasley clan travels fast!

Apparently, everyone had heard about her dumping Ron, although Mrs. Weasley called it a lover's quarrel. Everyone heard she had nearly destroyed Ron's bedroom with him in it, although Percy comically referred to it as she'd simply damaged a few doors in a tantrum. Everyone heard that she hadn't been at home last night, and the various speculations on that were astounding.

Hermione dumped all the letters and messages in the rubbish bin, except George's. Apparently, he was finally questioning what Hermione had put in the truffles. She wanted to scream, "I didn't—Ron did," but refrained. She drafted George a note, telling him what she knew, reminding him pointedly it was Ron who'd used unlabeled potions and caused the mix up, not her.

If she was going to find out what the mystery potion was, she was going to have to go to Hogwarts. At least now she had more than one reason to go.

—{ }—

When Hermione entered the Hogwarts gates, she was surprised to see Firenze waiting for her. "Just the very centaur I wanted to see," she exclaimed happily.

"As I was told of your coming, I chose to come to see you," Firenze said. Standing in the sun, his golden palomino body was glossy, and his blond hair and tail shone.

"You are looking very well," she said. "How have you been? Are the others treating you all right?"

He turned his gaze to the castle. "Most all of the other professors are tolerant of me and have been accepting; nevertheless, Professor Trelawney still refers to me as a Dobbin. However, I judge her not," he said patiently.

"Is she giving you any trouble? Should I speak to her?" Hermione followed him as he began walking.

"It is inconsequential," Firenze said as he shook his head and his tail swished. "She cannot see the true messages presented in the stars and planets since she focuses on trivial nonsense. She is blinkered and fettered by her own limitations, rather than truly understanding the unfolding events that are marked upon the universe for us to see. She is incapable of understanding the subtleties apparent to us centaurs. Still, I feel I threaten her in her own mind."

"I remember—I always thought her wonky," Hermione said. Firenze looked at her with his intense blue eyes, his face furrowed in confusion. "I mean, so much of what she says is nonsense. I don't know much about centaur divination."

"We centaurs have studied and watched the heavens and have unraveled the mysteries of their movements for centuries," he said in his calm voice. "We are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. I have read what is to come in the movement of the planets, their moons, and the stars' progress, and it is good."

"That's good to know," Hermione said, smiling. She saw something shift in the shadows from the corner of her eye and saw two more centaurs standing in the trees. "How are things with your own kind? The last I heard from Hagrid was that your herd is still annoyed with you."

He was looking at the two centaurs in at the edge of the forest as well. "My herd has acknowledged that my sympathy for humans is not shameful," he said calmly. "I have convinced them that I was right, that Dumbledore and Harry were pivotal, symbolized in the stars as necessary in the unfolding events of our world. They have allowed me back into the fold."

"So, even though you are still living in the castle you are not an outcast anymore?" she asked.

"I am not living in the castle," he said, his hooves thudding loudly as he walked. "I come here to teach the foals, even though few are able to comprehend and understand the subtleties apparent in the stars."

"I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sorry," she quickly apologized. "I'm fallible, and my understanding of centaurs and your ways is limited."

"No, I am sorry. I realize that you are also fettered by the limitations of your kind, although your mind is open," he said. "Hagrid told me of why you have come. My herd allows me to teach as long as I do not give away our secrets but encourage the young ones to open their minds and learn for themselves. Much like we teach our own young. I teach my class here on the grass now. Although, when the weather is bad for humans, I still have my classroom. But I live in the forest."

He turned again and nodded at his friends. "They continue to argue about our responsibility when reading portents of the future in the stars and whether it is correct to intervene in the unfolding of that future. Many do not trust humans, and few are still angry that I still honor my promise to Dumbledore. Nevertheless, we do agree that what the stars and Mars had been showing us has come to pass—the war between the great good and a great evil, which was fought here, even within our very wood. We could have possibly helped swayed that fate, given warning, but it is against our nature to intervene."

"I wonder if Wizardkind would have listened to you any more than they did to Dumbledore and Harry?" she asked him.

Firenze smiled knowingly at her. "I have my doubts, Hermione Granger."

Hermione stopped as they neared the stairs. "I would like to ask you if I could meet with the leader of your herd. We in the Ministry are trying to have better relations with our magical brethren, and I want to establish better relations with centaurs."

Firenze smiled and bowed his blond head. "You have already done your part, and we thank you. If you want, ask Hagrid to lead you. He knows how to find us."

"Would you like to have Hagrid as a Liaison Officer for you?" she asked. "I can easily arrange that."

"Hagrid would be pleased," Firenze said. "I must leave you now. They wait for me."

—{ }—

Hermione had spent her entire day in the Hogwarts library, stopping only to have lunch with Hagrid and asking him if he'd mind being a Ministry Liaison Officer for Firenze's herd. As Firenze had predicted, Hagrid had been deeply honored by her suggestion and very pleased to be able to 'help' them. Hermione doubted they'd need much help, but he did have a good report with the herd now that Grawp was living in a huge shack-like structure in the mountains.

Hagrid had also told Hermione that the other professors were tutoring him. Apparently, Harry had petitioned Kingsley to reopen the allegations of Hagrid's involvement in the horrific events in the castle his third year. Hagrid told her that between Harry's memories of what Tom Riddle had said to him and his own, he'd been cleared all allegations. So, Hagrid was being given the opportunity to study for his O.W.L.s. Harry had even taken Hagrid to buy his new wand. Hagrid proudly showed Hermione his new eighteen-inch oak wand with an ebony handle with a huge smile and glistening eyes that had made even Hermione want to tutor him for his exams.

Still, although Hermione was able to find the book in which she'd copied the potions down, she'd been unable to learn very much about the strange potion written in ancient runes. All she could deduce was that it was a Pining Potion of some kind, also referred to a Mooning-Dream Potion in another book. So all she could deduce was that the potion gave the taker dreams of someone he or she was pining over. Not much help at all. And nothing told her what would happen if one mixed the Love-Drawing Potion with the Mooning-Dream Potion, so again, all she could do was speculate.

—{ }—

When Hermione finally decided it was time to go home, she Apparated to her usual site, a phone booth tucked in between two very large, overgrown camellia bushes in a park only three blocks from her flat. When she moved away from her Apparition site, about to stroll through the park toward home, she saw none other than Severus Snape, sitting on a bench as if waiting for something. Hermione stood still, staring at him, before deciding to approach him, feeling a tight knot of apprehension in her gut. He sat calmly, simply waiting for her.

"Hi," she said, crossing her arms as if suddenly cold and looking at him.

She looked around at the park as he answered with a slow, "Hello."

She looked back at him, realizing he'd not even moved, still sitting on the bench as if he did that every day of his life. Baffled by his presence, she finally asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you," he said smoothly.

Her heart seemed to leap uncontrollably under his intense stare. "What? Why? I don't understand why you are here. Why have you come looking for me?" she asked, fighting down a surge of feelings from just watching him.

"Because now that you have come to your senses and left Weasley, I am hoping that you and I… I would like to see you on a social level," he explained.

Hermione was stunned to hear the usually self-controlled smoothness in his voice falter slightly. "You what?" she asked in disbelief. "You can't be serious! You despise me! You hated me as a student."

"I never hated you," he replied, smiling, before his expression became more serious. "Okay, I was awful toward you. I was hurtful and malicious, and for that, I am sorry. But I had to be. Bloody hell-ocks, if for one minute I thought that I'd—you and me…"

Hermione was stunned. This wasn't the self-assured, arrogant man she remembered. He wasn't sneering at her or being the least bit condescending. Instead, he seemed slightly unsure himself. "Let's start from you never hated me," she said, watching him carefully for any sign of deceit. "Explain that to me."

"Hermione, may I call you Hermione?" he asked.

"Yes, Severus," she said, rolling his name pointedly as if she dared to have him refute her or sneer at her for addressing him so informally.

He smiled as his name rolled off her tongue. "First, for years I have watched you, watched you grow up, and become the exceptional witch I knew you would be. For six years, you have continually amazed me, constantly demonstrating the very beliefs I have always held, even when serving the Dark Lord. Blood purity doesn't matter. Just being a pureblood does not equate superiority. How can it when the best, brightest, and most promising I have ever known were not purebloods but Muggle-born. Even when I was a student, I noticed that blood did not equate to superiority and had questioned even then to what the purebloods claimed as their right."

"I don't believe you," she said, her eyes narrowing slightly with suspicion. "Why me? All of a sudden you claim you want to see me socially. You've never given me any indication of—and I..."

"Hermione, what I have always admired most is skill, competency, knowledge, intelligence, wit… You are the brightest witch I have seen in nearly twenty-three years. I know of only one witch who has ever been equal to you, and I truly believe…" he tried to explain and faltered again. If she didn't know better, she'd believe he was actually being sincere. "Look, I know something is going on. I cannot forget you. I saw you recently and I admit, you've grown into a remarkable woman, and I am deeply intrigued. It's almost as if you have me under a spell. I can't get you off my mind, and after that night at the opera…"

"That was you?!" she shrieked.

"I thought you knew?" he asked, surprised. "Shite. I—and you—but you didn't protest?"

"No, I, er, didn't…" she stammered incoherently as all thought seemed to mix in her mind, a hundred questions rising at once. "Oh gods! At first, I thought it was a dream! But Luna said I'd left my seat, and the next thing I remembered I was in my sitting room…" She covered her face with her hands. "Oh, gods! That was real!" She dropped her hands, steepling them in front of her lips. "And what about the night after I found Ron… and we had that fight—when we broke up—in the Crabbe and Tavern? Was that you as well?"

"Yes," he said, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "You didn't know? Then why did you allow—you came with me willingly."

"Yes, I did," she confessed. "I could say I was too drunk to know what I was doing."

He turned his head for a moment then looked back at her, his dark eyes hard. "Is that why you ran away?"

"You took me to Dolores Umbridge's house—to have sex—in her bedroom! Okay, great sex—but why her house of all places!" He started to laugh and it angered her. "What is so funny? I—gods, it was like waking up from an incredible dream into my worst nightmare!"

—{ }—

Author's Notes:

Hermione's speech regarding the memory of Severus at Grimmauld Place was inspired by a response in a Potter_Place discussion. I'm sorry to say I can't remember who made the comments I used in Hermione's speech, I'd like to give her credit, but I had read it just before writing this and the sentiment really moved me, so I borrowed it. Whomever you are, I hope you don't mind.

I want to give a great big thank you hug to MadBrilliant for combing through this to point out my numerous errors and help me make this presentable for reading. You're the best, thank you!