A/N: *scampers in, wild-eyed*
*bounces gleefully*
*does a happy dance, handing over the chapter*
*wiggles eyebrows*
*cackles as she runs away*
xx-Kitten.
Relligo Spiritus
By Kittenshift17
Chapter Eleven
"This is disconcerting," Hermione muttered to Snape where he walked at her side though he was currently wearing the visage of the waitress from the coffee shop two days prior. Their shopping trip had taken a lot more out of them than expected and while Hermione had managed to lure him out of bed and down to help her with putting up a few decorations from among her stores the day before, they hadn't managed to make it to Diagon Alley for the traditional pagan trimmings of the holiday season until now.
"You're being ridiculous," Snape snapped at her, obviously uncomfortable in the skin of a teenage girl. He'd been forced to borrow some of Hermione's clothes to look the part when he drank the Polyjuice Potion and realized he was unprepared for the size difference between himself as a grown man, and the tininess of a teenage girl. He'd also demanded that Hermione not only provide clothing but help to dress him in that form while he was covering his eyes.
She suspected he'd never before pinched the hairs from anyone not also a grown man, and it hadn't occurred to him until too late that if he wanted to look the part, he'd have to strip naked and re-dress as a female. Not something any grown man should be excited about while wearing the skin of a teenage girl. She didn't think either of them would ever be able to look at the poor muggle waitress the same if they ever returned to that cheerful coffee shop.
"I don't know how to talk to you while you look like this," Hermione muttered, their elbows linked as they strolled the length of the alley. "All of these people are going to think you're my sister or something."
"Better than them thinking you're shagging a Death Eater," he muttered back.
Hermione coloured, for though she had done her damnedest in the past days to forget the notion that having sex would replenish their strength sooner, she'd been having the most explicit dreams of her entire life starring the sour wizard she was currently cohabiting with.
"Right," she muttered, though the intense dreams she'd been having suggested that there might actually be nothing better than shagging this particular Death Eater.
"Hermione!" someone called as they hurried the length of the alley despite the falling snow.
"Oh, no," Hermione muttered.
"Ignore them," Snape commanded from beside her.
"I can't," Hermione shook her head. "They're colleagues."
"So what?" he rolled his eyes. "We don't have a cover story."
"You're my cousin," she said quickly, thinking fast. "From Australia."
"With a scouse accent?" he asked sardonically, raising that damnable eyebrow of his, though the expression on the face of the sweet muggle teenager lost some of its effects. Not all, of course. It seemed no matter what skin he wore, this man could make an art out of looking like the entire world irritated him just by being.
"Plenty of people born to families with accents pick up that accent, rather than that of their regional settlements," Hermione said.
"Hermione!? Is that you?"
Hermione turned with a smile, her eyes tracing over Susan Bones and Abigail Wheatley.
"Susan," Hermione smiled welcomingly. "Abigail. Hi."
"Fancy seeing you here," Abigail smiled shyly.
"And who's this?" Susan asked nodding to Snape.
Hermione glanced at him, noting the haughty expression on his face and wishing she wore a cloak long enough to make stomping on his foot a feasible course of action.
"This is my cousin, Matilda," Hermione introduced. "She's visiting with her parents from Australia. Over for the holidays, you know?"
"Oh, how wonderful," Susan smiled warmly. "I'm Susan."
She offered her hand and Snape eyed it like it was a dead fish before Hermione subtly elbowed him and he took it.
"Pleasure," he offered coolly.
"And I'm Abigail," the other woman introduced herself, shaking hands too and smiling a little more warmly, ever the nervous wallflower.
"What brings you both to the alley?" Susan asked.
"Oh, we're hunting for some festive decorations," Hermione smiled.
"Lovely," Susan nodded.
Right at that moment, an icy wind blew down the alley and Hermione shivered in her cloak. Snape hissed in annoyance when the abundance of the muggle girl's hair he currently wore blew all over his face, the flyaway strands dancing in the wind.
"Merlin, that's nippy," Susan said. "What say we get out of this icy breeze and stop at the Leaky Cauldron for a butterbeer, Hermione? For the holidays?"
Hermione glanced sideways at Snape, biting her lip on the urge to smile, knowing he was likely to lose his temper at any minute.
"That would be lovely," she smiled, nodding happily.
He looked like he thought it was actually a new and unique form of torture.
"Delightful," he drawled sarcastically.
"Ignore her," Hermione sighed when he stomped ahead of them toward the pub, fishing in a pocket for the small flask of Polyjuice he'd brought in the even that they ended up here longer than necessary. "She's out of sorts today. Wanted to stay in Australia and spend the holidays with her boyfriend, you know?"
"Oh, the poor dear," Susan chuckled. "Young love, am I right?"
Hermione laughed too, making no comment given that the state of her own love life was positively atrocious, presently. Indeed, the closest thing she had to one was the morning wood Snape had been sporting when he woke up spooning her every day since she'd started staying with him.
"What brings you two to the alley today, anyway?" Hermione asked, making small talk with the pair of women. She worked with both of them at the Ministry, though in different departments. They often had lunch at the same time and had formed a habit of sharing a lunch table to dine in company.
"Holiday shopping," Susan smiled. "I've left mine to the last minute this year, I'm afraid. I really need to be getting on top of it and Abigail mentioned that she was a little behind as well."
"I'm always the worst for it," Abigail chimed in. "I always tell myself there's still plenty of time and then suddenly it's Christmas Eve and I've got nothing to give anyone and no food in the house."
"I know what you mean," Hermione nodded. "I'm behind on my shopping this year, myself. I've just been feeling so run down, I swear I've spent most of the last week curled under a blanket, alternating between reading and dozing."
"It's been the perfect weather for it," Susan nodded. "Hannah, love, how are you? Four butterbeers, please."
"Ladies," Hannah Abbott grinned at them from behind the bar. "Merlin, you lot are a sight for sore eyes."
Hermione grinned.
"How've you been, Hannah?" she asked the other girl, recalling that her last letter correspondence with Neville suggested he and Hannah were on their way to becoming an item.
"Run clear off my feet, it seems," Hannah laughed, popping the tops off their butterbeers. "Holidays are always busy with staff parties and everyone wants to bring their out-of-town relatives here for lunch or dinner, you know? It's a good problem to have, but my aching feet beg to differ."
Hermione laughed.
"And there we were saying we've all been slack for the holidays," Hermione chuckled, nudging Snape when he took his butterbeer and scowled sourly. "This is Matilda, my cousin."
"Alright, Matilda?" Hannah grinned warmly. "I didn't know you had any family, Hermione."
Hermione chuckled nervously.
"She's over from Australia," Hermione offered.
"We're not that close," Snape offered coolly, and the other ladies all looked slightly uncomfortable while Hermione fought the urge to smile. He really was an ogre.
"But we're working to change that, aren't we?" she teased, slinging her arm around his shoulders and ruffling his hair.
He made a noise of annoyance, trying to duck away from her but Hermione hung onto him.
Susan laughed quietly.
"She's terrorising you then, Matilda?" Susan asked. "It's not like Hermione to badger people into liking her."
Hermione stuck her tongue out at the other girl who she had, indeed, badgered into befriending her by sitting with her every day in the cafeteria at work after she and Ron had broken things off and she hadn't wanted to sit with Harry and Ron while she got over it.
"Hermione would never badger anyone into loving her," Abigail grinned, the younger woman having attended Beauxbatons for school despite being English-born, but who would have undoubtedly been a Hufflepuff like Susan, had she attended Hogwarts instead.
"Hermione makes an art of pestering people into defying their baser nature," Snape replied evenly, allowing Hermione to lead him over to a booth and sitting along with the other women.
She stomped on his foot under the table when he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.
"That's actually expertly put," Susan laughed.
Hermione grinned, twining her ankle around Snape's under the table and finding that even in a different skin, the touch of their skin helped boost her flagging energy. They spent almost an hour sitting and chatting with the other women despite Snape's obvious wish to be literally anywhere else and Hermione wondered how much of an earful she'd cop later when they returned to his cottage and he could unleash his fearsome temper.
When finally, they bid the other women goodbye and waved to Hannah before spilling back out into the snow, he shot her a dirty look and guzzled more of the Polyjuice he'd brought along, looking none too happy with her.
"Sorry," she offered. "Some of us haven't been living in complete solitude following a faked death. It's only polite to catch up with friends at the holidays."
"It was a waste of time and energy."
"For you, maybe," she shrugged. "Come on, let's get on with the shopping, shall we?"
"Not going to drag me to any more of your girly chit-chats about boys and bras?" he sneered.
"Bras are an important topic of discussion because they are uncomfortable, expensive, and yet necessary if one wishes to portray an air of professionalism and put-togetherness," Hermione said. "We ladies have to endure their horror daily. And as you are currently aware, they're awful. If one happens to find a decent brand, it is a woman's duty to share her finding with her fellow warrior-women."
He scowled recalling that he currently wore one of her bras because the skin he wore came with an impressive pair of knockers.
"Ridiculous," he muttered, storming off in search of their intended purchases, heading for a small and dingy shop on the edge of Knockturn Alley.
Hermione shook her head and followed him, not noticing the gleaming yellow eyes watching her from the shadows.
~O~
"Are you going to keep huffing like that?" Hermione asked two hours later after he'd dragged her all over the Alley looking for different things, evidently more intent on the holiday trimmings than she'd imagined.
She'd lured him into the book store with the intention of finding some last-minute gifts for the friends and colleagues she had yet to purchase for and he was cranky.
"We need to go," he said tightly.
"Why?" she frowned at him, looking up from the book she'd been perusing that she was thinking of giving Molly Weasley. "You should still have plenty of potion left."
He shot her a dirty look.
"We're… not alone," he murmured quietly, moving closer to her and putting a hand on her shoulder under the pretence of balancing to reach for a book on a high shelf.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, looking around and seeing no one they knew.
"Across the street," he murmured so softly that she almost missed it.
Hermione frowned, tossing her hair over her shoulder and searching the street outside the window.
"I don't see anyone?" she muttered.
"Under the overhang," he whispered. "Disillusioned. You can only see when he moves."
"He?" she asked, her stomach twisting.
"Greyback," Snape murmured.
"Oh, shit," she whispered.
"As I said," he inclined his head. "He's been following us for a while now."
"And you're only just mentioning it?"
"I thought we'd be on our way before now," he scowled. "He was loitering further back before, but he's growing bolder."
"He can't show his face here and get away with it," Hermione said. "He's still all over all the wanted posters."
"Like that will stop him?" Snape rolled his eyes. "He can move faster than most people can see. He could burst in here and rip out everyone's throats before they even knew he was here. Greyback is much older and much more powerful than you imagine, Miss Granger. He could not have survived having me cut out his human heart and yet lived to tell the tale if he wasn't much older, stronger, and more magically gifted that he has previously ever let on. Believe, he means us harm and is more than capable of causing it."
"So we should leave?" she asked.
"Yes," he nodded. "And we should do so by a means he won't be able to follow. The last thing we need is him finding out where we live."
Hermione caught the way he said 'we live', though he didn't seem to notice it himself as he strode over to the counter to pay for the basketful of books he'd collected for purchase. She hid her smile, glancing over her shoulder and catching the glimmer of magic against the wall where Greyback moved. She narrowed her eyes on him hatefully though she couldn't see his face before she followed Snape to the counter and paid for her purchases.
"Don't move," Snape muttered when the bell rang a few moments later, the door opening seemingly of its own accord.
"Shit," Hermione whispered.
The bookshop clerk was too busy searching the supposedly empty doorway to continue scanning her purchases and Hermione snapped her fingers impatiently. Snape's hand slid to the small of her back and he pressed closer to her, his own purchases already bagged.
"Seventeen galleons, ma'am," the clerk cleared his throat when he realised he'd been distracted.
Hermione handed over the money quickly, aware of Snape's wand gripped in his hand while he looked over her shoulder.
"One," Snape breathed to her, his eyes fixed on something she couldn't see.
Hermione closed her eyes briefly, unsure she could face apparating when she was exhausted after spending so long shopping.
"Two," he whispered.
"Three!" a low voice growled from right next to her on the other side. "Hello, girly."
"Fuck," Snape swore, yanking Hermione sideways as soon as she snatched up her bag of books.
The bombarda curse left his wand silently and the bookstore clerk gave a shout of surprise when the disillusionment charm on the werewolf failed as he was blasted across the shop. Snape grasped Hermione tightly and twisted, disapparating quickly, prioritising their escape over helping the other shoppers deal with the irate werewolf in their midst.
Her stomach was twisting hideously when they landed somewhere, though she hadn't the foggiest of where that might be.
"Where?" she tried to ask.
"Again," Snape barked, twisting again and Hermione closed her eyes, turning into him and simply letting him lead her, the risk of splinching given their combined magical depletion high and her nausea growing by the minute.
"Again," he said into her ear when they slammed into solid ground again.
Hermione wrapped her arms around his mid-section and simply hung on, letting him jump again and again and again, leading a merry dance to Merlin only knew where. She didn't protest. She knew why it was necessary. Her friendship with Remus and her study of werewolves had taught her that those who embraced their baser nature were more in touch with the elements and the world around them. Greyback could feasibly follow them wherever they went because of disturbances in the magical seams of the universe's fabric thanks to their apparations.
"Run!" Snape said, dropping her.
"Where?" she gasped, her head spinning dizzily.
He simply took her head, towing her along down a country lane and around a corner.
"Again!" he barked when they rounded a tree into a field full of sheep.
Hermione groaned, letting him lead her, feeling queasy now.
"I'm going to be sick," she warned when they next landed.
"Don't," he growled like his command alone would be enough to settle her errant stomach.
Hermione scoffed and nearly threw up when he twisted again, bouncing four more times and towing her through a section of some forest she didn't recognise.
"Almost there," he muttered when she covered her mouth with her hand, looking up at him worriedly and trying to swallow back the urge to mess his shoes.
"I'm gonna…" she muttered.
"No," he growled, his eyes darting down to meet hers. "Not yet."
Hermione gulped, squeezing her eyes closed and letting him put his arms around her, tugging her into his chest before he twisted again, dragging her with him. It occurred to her only when they finally stopped spinning and she pulled back slowly to see they reached his back garden that some time while they'd fled, the Polyjuice had worn off.
Hermione traced her eyes over him.
"Oh, Merlin," she giggled at the sight of him still in her clothes which now fit extremely ill.
"Not a word, Miss Granger," he growled, turning and storming into the house.
Hermione bit her lip, trying desperately to keep from laughing but he looked hilarious in her jeans and sweater. The back door to his cottage slammed on the sound of her laughter ringing over the snow-covered garden.