Celebwen Telcontar: Next installment. I do not own anything whatsoever, save the plot. Goodnight, people.
Balrog: Oh, no you don't! You can't run off and fall asleap as they are reading!! What if they review?
Celebwen Telcontar: Bloody hell. I guess I'll have to stay awake. Please review. This chapter is rated NC-17 for sexual situations, so if you are under seventeen, leave please. This also has some SSHG, or KS, in it. I hope it doesn't offend anyone here.
When they popped into existence, the two wizards and their lovers were shocked to discover that this was not Ithaca in any way shape or form. In point of fact, it looked more like descriptions of Circe's dwelling. A woman with golden hair and a golden glint in her eye looked at them from the porch of a very prosperous villa.
"So. I go to all the trouble to bring you to my time, teach you the arts of war, force you to use hand-to-hand techniques, demand Aphrodite to have her son shoot you both to find love, learn the customs here, and only now you decide to visit?!" the woman raged.
"What?! You caused us to come here and join the Trojan war, break our wands, fall in love with these two lovely women, and you have the gall to laugh?!" Tithonus barked.
"I don't see anyone laughing, Ron Weasley. I only see you and Harry Potter with your wives on my beach. You could have knocked."
"Wait... How do you know our names?!" Actaeon snarled.
"Oh, Mr. Potter, I know far more than your names! I know that you are a Seventh year at Hogwarts, and that you are the only hope for the Light against Voldemort. Don't wince, Weasley. You've faced far worse in the War than a simple name."
"Who in the bloody hell are you?" Tithonus growled.
"Circe."
"Oh. That explains a lot," Actaeon muttered.
"Well, I'm here to give you new wands and teach you several new spells. I don't want Voldemort to win either, Mr. Potter. Or do you prefer to be addressed by your Greek names?"
"Greek names."
"Alright, Tithonus, come foreword. Okay... hmmm... maybe olive? No, oak. Argo oak... and... lemmesee... Ah." She plucked a hair from her own head, and tapped it with her own wand. Tithonus' new wand was of a dark brown wood with a much darker tip. "Olive wood with one of my own hairs and a piece of the sacred oak of the Argo in the tip. Now for you Actaeon." She muttered again, and a lighter wand appeared. "Cedar wood with one of my own hairs and a piece of the sacred oak of the Argo in the tip. Be careful with it. They are both incredibly powerful wands. Okay, let's get down to business. Actaeon, I want you to point your wand at that rabbit, say "Hippolyta" and focus on the rabbit itself." Harry did as he was told, and the rabbit became a huge mare with a bridle but no saddle. Her size was astonishing: Hagrid could have ridden her without trouble.
The years passed quickly, Actaeon and Tithonus becoming skilled in the new spells. Now they each had a team of horses swift enough to surpass the speed of the horses of the Gods, plus invincible armor, unbreakable weapons, and a strong respect for the ancient sorceress. They dressed in rich robes fit for kings, as Circe did herself, and they trimmed their beards to a neat and manageable level. Actaeon found that the weight of so much hair dragged down the messiness of it, and discovered that his beard was just as wild as his hair. He tried to create a broomstick once, and came out with one about as good as the Silver Arrow of the 1970's, and found that he still loved flying as much as ever. He enchanted stones to soar around and participate as snitches, and soon had honed his Quidditch skills again. At one point, he accidentally conjured a real Quaffle and a pair of Bludgers, and nearly put Tithonus in a coma. After that, he decided to watch what he conjured, and was doing just that when he heard a light splashing and sputtering of a drowning person on the edge of the island. He called for his horses, and drove down to see what this was. There, clinging to a mossy board, over halfway drowned and gasping for air, his hair and beard wilder than ever and matted with saltwater and seaweed, was Odysseus. Actaeon hauled him to his feet, dragged him over to the chariot, and drove back to the manor.
Odysseus believed that each year that he spent with Actaeon, Tithonus, and Circe was just a day, and so he thought he wouldn't be too long home. Then, Circe told him, and he ran to the shore to build a ship.
It had been 27 years since Actaeon and Tithonus had gone off to the Trojan war. Kilissa stood at the mill, grinding wheat into flour, and baking the flour into bread. The sweet, syrupy wine was selling at remarkable speeds, and she was kept busy, even with the hired help she had. She often used her wand to clean the place after the last customers left, and sometimes would make only one loaf of bread, then multiply it with magic. Her job was getting tiresome.
Suddenly, she heard a loud crack from the stairs, as if someone had Apparated there. There was a loud thump and a string of curses in a suave, smooth, oily voice, one that she would never forget. The curses were in Greek, but she would always remember the voice as speaking in English.
"Professor!" she cried. She sprinted to the stairs, and saw Professor Snape standing on her stairs, in his robes, rubbing his head where he had hit it on the low ceiling.
"Miss Granger?!" he cried, shocked.
"Keep your voice down, I have customers. Here," She quickly transfigured his robes into fashionable clothes, and told him to put his wand away. "What do you know about baking?"
"Nothing, Miss Granger," he sneered, as if saying that baking was below him.
"Then you can bring this to that table over there. I really appreciate the help." He managed to swallow his affronted face as he ferried the bagged bundle over to the customer, who rubbed his hands with delight.
"Ahh... nothing like a sow's womb seethed with honey and vinegar to cut out a bad day. Wouldn't you say so?" the customer said, delighted in his meal. Severus felt like he was going to throw up. A sow's womb? With piglets inside? The thought was revolting. He managed to get his nausea under control, and walked back to Miss Granger before she shoved a plate of fried snails, shell and all, at him, and told him where it went. Kilissa nearly choked with mirth at the thought of Professor Snape playing a waiter in ancient Greece. She wondered what he would think of dinner tonight: a ewe's womb grilled with garlic. As he returned, she shoved a plate of cinnamon apples at him and told him where to put it. Then came the grilled trout: with the skin still on, and the honeyed sheep eyes. A plate of mutton that actually looked eatable came next, followed by a baked pigeon. She could have sworn that he was struggling not to be sick with all the foreign and perhaps undercooked foods. When she dolled out some bread and olive oil, he looked slightly relieved, and he turned his nose up at the wine.
Finally the last customer left, and she waited until everyone was out of sight save him before she began to magically clean the tables and floor. With a sweep of her wand, all chairs but two were neatly stacked against the wall.
"Are you hungry? I have supper cooking now." She poked the ewe's womb with a stick and turned it over, releasing a faintly garlicky smell.
"What is it?"
"Ewe's womb grilled with garlic. It's quite good." He looked green. She quickly conjured a bucket; and he put it to good use. "Professor? Are you okay?"
"You actually eat that?" he asked his voice raspy. He spat into the bucket once more, and she drew a cup of wine for him.
"Yes. Here, rinse your mouth out."
"Why no water?"
"Are you nuts? The stuff that grows in the water is disgusting. We have only chamber-pots here: Do you really think the water would be sanitary?"
"When are we?"
"Third or fourth century BC, Greece."
"Great. Ancient Greece."
"Just wondering, but why are you here?"
"Dumbledore sent me. And you?"
"No clue. We were trying to get to modern Greece for a three week vacation, and we've been here... uhm... twenty years."
"That explains the age. Where are Potter and Weasley?"
"Probably sailing home, or dead."
"WHAT?" he roared.
"They took part in the Trojan war. They either died in the war or on their way home with Odysseus."
"When did they leave? Why didn't you stop them?"
"They left seventeen yeas ago. I couldn't stop them: I'm a woman. The rules here are a little more lenient than those in Athens, but not by much. I can own a tavern, but that's about it."
"Is that what this is, a tavern?"
"Yep. Nothing else would serve food, save a housewife."
"Why don't you have a husband?"
"I don't have a father here, and Actaeon and Tithonus, or Harry and Ron, were in Ilion. Young men don't want a woman with no dowry and her own business. It means that she can take care of herself, unlike most 'educated' girls. Besides, I'm far older than the marriageable age. Heck, I'm thirty-seven. No one wants a wife that old, unless she can bring large amounts of gold into the bargain. And I most certainly can't. Not only that, but I speak my mind; I don't go off and nod to everything any man says to me. They go to me to figure math, logic, or engineering problems, and food, but nothing else."
"Have you tried getting back?"
"So many times it makes my head spin. The first time we went over there, we were nearly run over by some natives that behead captives. Needless to say, we got out of there quick. The second time, we nearly were run through, and the third we were nearly devoured by a hungry dragon. We've gone much more times than that, but those were the really memorable ones. Save the Beowulf run-in. That was interesting. I nearly stayed to watch, but would have been cooked if I had. By the way, don't call me Miss Granger, it makes me stick out like a sore thumb even more, and people would wonder where I got that name. My name here is Kilissa. The person to invent the term Professor is probably a century or two in the future, so... "
"Call me Severus," he grumbled. Even though Severus was a Roman name, it was close enough. He could use it.
"Alright. Enough chatter. Are you hungry? I could make you a stuffed apple?"
"Stuffed with what?"
"Well, let's see... escargot, pigeon entrails, mashed sow brains... what's wrong?" He had taken on a very distinctive greenish tinge. "Maybe I could use instead the honey and chopped dates?" she asked. He nodded slightly, before making use of the bucket again. She cored an apple, and then stuffed the hole with honey and dates, before shoving it in the still warm oven. In about five minutes, she removed it and tested the skin before she handed it to him on a wooden plate. "Careful, it's hot. Do you want some willow bark decoction instead?"
"What is it?"
"A painkiller/fever reducer. It works, to a point. Not as good as Madam Pomphry, but the best we have."
"I know what willow bark does. I was referring to the hot round red thing."
"Baked apple stuffed with dates and honey."
"Ah. Should be better than the haggis thing you're eating."
"But not as healthy or as filling. Do you want some of this? It's not half bad."
"Maybe when I feel more like myself than a sick waiter." She smiled a bit at that, and dug heartily into her meal, the bones of the lamb still spongy and eatable. She heard a crunch as she came across a solidifying bone, and spat it out, then returned to the fetus. He nodded at the apple's taste, thinking it was a little too sweet, but not too bad, compared with whole lamb still in the fetus.
The days went by with amazing speed. Severus would get up, and if they needed supplies, he would go to the market. Kilissa would then arise and start the bread. Severus would do the meat and buying the meat fresh: so fresh they needed to kill it. Once he bought a pig that was nice and fat: then found out that it was pregnant and the fetus served as another meal. The eyes were good garnishes, and he had learned not to heave at every fetus. Kilissa would make exceptional food, and he found himself looking foreword towards the next meal. His hair became less greasy with him not standing over a cauldron twenty four hours a day, and his manners were as good as anyone's.
Kilissa once went over to Penelope's with Severus, and chased off her suitors. No doubt they would return, but it would put Penelope and Telemachus in stitches of laughter to watch Severus chase them out with harsh language and a blunt sword. Kilissa once joined the chase, and that was the night it happened. They had gone home for the night after an evening of 'Chase the Suitors' and drinking with Telemachus and Penelope, when he had stopped her by the door to her bedroom. He had cupped her cheek in one of his hands, then lightly pressed his lips to hers, giving her full control of the kiss. She was completely taken aback at first, but then began to enjoy the kiss. She brought her arms up to gently hold his shoulders, her hands resting in his ebony hair. He gently licked her bottom lip, expecting to be rejected. Then, she opened her mouth, and deepened the kiss considerably, holding him tighter than she did beforehand. Just in case anything would have come up, she had a stash of wool and a small box of pine resin on her dresser, to act as a sort of contraceptive. It wasn't much against a diaphragm or a condom, but it would do. She felt him groan into her mouth, and felt his erection against her stomach, intensifying her own lust for him. Who would have ever thought that she would be lusting after the Hogwarts Potions master? If anyone had said that a couple months ago, they would have been laughed at. Seriously. He stopped the kiss for a second, drew his wand, pointed it at her middle and muttered something that sounded like "Contraceptus," then put the wand away. She smiled and hungrily sought out his mouth again. She felt behind her for the door, and shoved it open. The two of them stumbled in and fell onto her bed, unmindful that it was scratchy and lumpy. She yanked the tunic off of her torso and shoved her loincloth off of her hips, casting them aside and threw her sandals into a corner, watching him do the same. He took her into his arms again, and they fell onto the bed, groaning with need.
"You'll have to help me, I've never done this before," she whispered to him.
"Then we'll learn together," he murmured. She was shocked that he hadn't been laid before this, but then remembered what she had thought of him before he showed up to bash his head on her ceiling and play the part of waiter then puke his guts out at her dinner choice. She felt him pressing her close, and then fumbled down to press his fingers into her moist folds. She gasped at the sensation, pressing into his hand. His mouth left hers for a few minutes as he began suckling on her breasts, as eager as any babe, and she clutched handfuls of his hair in primal reaction to the feelings he sent through her body. She gasped as he hit a raw nerve with his fingers and instantly sought out his mouth again. He explored her core with restless fingers, making her gasp and cry out with pleasure. Then, she began to pant and whimper, writhing on the bed beneath him, and he raised himself to gently enter her. He went in a small bit until she cried out with pain, and then withdrew a fraction.
"Kilissa?"
"Oh, Severus, please, continue, don't stop," she whimpered, and slid herself down onto him until he was fully sheathed, ignoring her pain. He grasped her hips and began to move with her, feeling his ecstasy build and finally break, as she raked his back with her fingers, throwing her head back in pleasure, and crying out with her own release. As he wound down, she clutched him close to her, resting her head on his chest and listening to the erratic beats of his heart. "Severus," she whispered, just to say his name, this godlet who led her into an entirely new universe. He captured her lips again, his taste mingled with sweat of the exertion. She gazed into his ebony eyes, misted over with love and joy, plus access into a new way of life.
"I love you, Kilissa," he whispered, holding her close and feeling her smile against his chest.
"I love you too, Severus," she replied quietly, her legs still tangled with his own. He withdrew from her, and she nearly whimpered, then he lay down next to her, holding her close. She slowly drifted off to sleep, thoroughly content and happy in the arms of her lover.
Odysseus had just sailed away, and Actaeon and Tithonus bid farewell to their teacher and friend. Deianira smiled, and Antigone grinned. Circe hugged Deianira, and, because of Antigone's sheer size, the sorceress settled for patting the expectant mother's belly gently, jumping back as the baby gave a hefty kick. Antigone laughed, and Circe gave a slight smile in return, slightly nervous about the tiny attack.
"Actaeon, are you sure that Apparating will be safe for me and the baby?" Antigone asked.
"We won't be Apparating. Erato, Polyhymnia!" he called. The two black mares plunged over, bearing the chariot. Heracles and Jason came over at a sharp whistle from Tithonus. The wives got into the chariots as Circe embraced both of the wizards as her sons. She gave them some last-minute advice, and they sprang into the chariots, wearing their impenetrable armor, their wands in holsters, and backpacks carrying all their gear; shrunken. Then, the warriors flipped the reins, and the four horses sprouted wings, climbing to the heavens. Deianira hung on for dear life as did Antigone, but the latter had her husband's arm about her to keep her from falling out due to the extra weight of the baby. In the dead of night they touched down near the tavern, the horses retracted their wings, and the group stopped by the tavern to tether the horses and went inside and to bed.
Celebwen Telcontar: Well, how was that? It had a bit of HGSS, or should I say KS? Anyways, I still need the returns on how the Dursleys should treat Actaeon/Harry when he returns. Please tell me! Please! And please review! Farewell, fair people.
