A/N: I seem to have had quite the Snapey week, and yes Snapey is a word. Some would think it to be indicative of the effects of PMS but no, it is the feeling one gets when one has been imagining Severus Snape in all his dark clad glory – it is the feeling sexy and brooding with a hint of Slytherin mischief.
Chapter 15 – The Thing is…
Severus turned in her arms to look into the slightly apprehensive chocolate eyes of his new… what on earth am I supposed to call her… girlfriend, soul-mate, fiancée? He raised his eyebrows to bid her finish her sentence, hoping he would finally get some answers.
"I'm not quite sure how to begin. Can we go outside? I think a little fresh air might help."
"Just tell me what is going on with my patronus, Hermione. It has been a doe since I first managed cast it in 1978. How is it possible that you could know the how it has changed form and the reason behind it changing?" He demanded of her, beginning to lose his patience.
"Please, Severus. Can we go outside? I promise it will be easier to explain." She begged, releasing his waist from her embrace.
"Very well. But no more stalling once we're outside."
"I don't want to stall. I'm not stalling."
Severus led her from his office, through the magically expanded ground floor of the cottage to a sun-warmed conservatory which was decorated in cream and beige with gold and red accents. Hermione smiled in surprise as she entered the room and watched her… what do I call him? Boyfriend doesn't seem very fitting; lover would certainly be appropriate at the moment… yes let's go with that. Hermione watched her lover open the patio doors onto a beautifully manicured garden, filled with low hedges and flower beds bursting with herbs and magical flowers.
"It's all so beautiful, Severus. Is this your work or your mothers? Or did Weston create such a splendid garden? I have to be honest, I can't imagine you on your hand and knees, digging in the earth and getting your hands muddy."
"It has been a collaborative effort. I tend to the harvesting for potion ingredients, Weston is not particularly involved but I do have a second house elf – Petal – who is much more involved with the digging, planting and weeding. My mother's interest are particularly captivated by cultivating hybrids; she gave up on matchmaking for my benefit when I was much younger and now she plies that interest into the plants – she doesn't call them hybrids, she calls them the love child of, for example lilac trees and raspberry bushes." He said as he gestured to their right.
Hermione gasped as her eyes fell to the side where she assumed the windows from the library must look out; there in front of the only window on that side was the largest lilac tree she had ever seen. It was in full bloom with stunningly conical flushes of light purple flowers.
Severus smiled at her sheer joy from looking at a tree, surprised, given her obvious love of botanicals that she wasn't more enamoured with the subject of herbology; he decided to ask her about that later. He flicked his wand at the tree with which she had such admiration and fascination; the lilac flowers began to break out into red spots, which expanded and spread out until each bloom was a rich, raspberry shade of red. Hermione ran up to it and touched several of the blooms, burying her nose into one and inhaling deeply.
"Oh Severus, it smells like raspberries. However did you manage to find a spell to do this?" She asked as she turned back to stare at him in awe.
"As I am sure you remember from your studies with my old potions book in your sixth year, I am rather adept at creating my own spells. I have not managed to replicate the taste of raspberries yet but I am sure it will not take me too much longer."
She ran at him and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a very passionate but equally as sweet kiss which she felt she never wanted to stop gifting him. He pulled back from her lips after a few moments but wrapped his arms around her waist.
"You're stalling." He whispered to her with a smile.
"You distracted me with making a childhood dream come true… almost. You only have yourself to blame."
"You're still stalling. Tell me about my patronus." He urged, his hands sliding down to her bottom and squeezing.
"Fine, but you need to stand back a little. And just so you know, I didn't use your potions book in my sixth year or at any other time; that was all Harry. After the sectumsempra incident, Ron and I made him get rid of it in the Room of Requirement."
His eyebrows furrowed a little but he did as he was bid and took a few steps back, releasing her and choosing not to comment on Potter's use of the potions book.
"Close your eyes." Hermione instructed.
"Why is that necessary, Hermione?"
"Please, Severus. Trust me."
Severus gave an exasperated sigh, such as one he used to give when he found her to be insufferable in the early years of their acquaintance, as her professor.
"Very well." He said finally and closed his eyes.
"Thank you. Now, count to one hundred and you can reopen them."
Count? Why the fuck must I count? This girl… I swear she will be the death of me. If it isn't the sex or the endless questions, it's these inane little tasks. Unless she wants to leave. Could she have changed her mind about me? It wouldn't surprise me. She'll be disappointed, if that is the case to know that with a sealed bond, she will find no other attractive. Tragically, it means I shall be disappointed too that I am losing my one chance at any semblance of a happy future. She's going to be gone when I open my eyes; I just know it.
"You will still be here when I open my eyes, won't you?" He asked, a little panic in his voice betraying his emotions.
"Of course, I will." She stepped towards him once more and kissed him chastely on the lips before retreating again. "You're not getting rid of me Severus Snape; I'm all yours." She announced in a soft, loved-up voice. "Now start counting. Slowly. Your voice has such an arousing effect on me and the more I get of it, the more it will fuel the flames of the next few minutes."
Hermione watched his eyebrows rise at her confession, surprised that after everything she had said to him in the last couple of days, such a small admission would surprise him so.
"How is your arousal at my voice indicative of how my patronus…"
"Sssssshhhhhh" she sounded, quietening him. "Please, trust me." she whispered. "Have I ever truly let you down or given you a reason not to?"
He thought about her question – apart from the initial blundering mistakes in potions when she was a first year, which were surprisingly few compared to her fellow students, she had never let him down. She had conquered his potions riddle in helping Potter to the philosopher's stone, she had taken his criticisms and acerbic nonsense for years and now, when she had the chance to call him on it, she simply understood that he had been acting on orders and protecting himself. No, Hermione, you have never let me down or given me a reason not to trust you, except for all this bloody stalling and making me jump through hoops for answers. I wonder, are you doing this on purpose to pay me back for making you jump through hoops for grades; how very Slytherin of you. He smiled at the thought but simply said "No."
"Right. Then please begin."
She heard him take a deep breath as she too closed her eyes to focus on his voice.
"One… two… three…"
Hermione listened to the deep, sexy baritone of her lover, really listened to how masculine it was, how the octave never shifted unless absolutely necessary. She usually had to imagine his voice to do this but this time she had the real thing and it was speeding up the process.
She felt the familiar warmth spread from her core, which was always affected by his voice, through her body; every limb and joint weakened under the caress of his deep baritone, it was her trigger. Much like a patronus requires a happy memory, this transformation requires an animalistic urge and hers was the fire in her veins at the sound of his voice. It danced along every nerve ending, igniting the elemental force of fire within her magic. If she had not learned how to do this, she feared she may spontaneously combust every time she heard his wonderful vocal resonance.
"Thirty-one… thirty-two…"
Here we go, she thought as her magic reached fever pitch, bursting into magnificent golden flames that engulfed her; mystical elemental forces which she had yet to decipher eliciting the change. The force of the magic was immense; it flung her arms wide and lifted her from the ground as the fires grew. She was lost to the sensation of it now as every cell of her body was reborn into that of a magnificent phoenix.
"Seventy-eight… seventy-nine… eighty…" Snape continued, frowning at the unusual heat and sounds that his senses were picking up but he continued to trust her and did not open his eyes.
Hermione hovered before him, softly flapping her ruby red wings to stay aloft as she waited for his reaction.
Ninety-nine… One Hundred. Can I open my eyes now?" He asked, impatiently.
After a moment of no response, he began to fear that she really had fled.
"Hermione, if I find you have fled without so much as a goodbye I shall be most displeased." He said in his familiar short-tempered voice but she could sense the fear that laced itself through his intimidating tone. She tried not to feel guilty.
His eyes fluttered open and slowly focused on the majestic, mythical bird of eternal fire before him. She was stunningly beautiful; ruby red feathers which glinted with a golden sheen in the evening sunlight; amber eyes which sparkled with happiness and mirth at the incredulous look which he assumed was evident on his face. He was speechless, caught between uncompromising admiration and absolute shock.
Hermione considered that to get any sense out of him at this point she would have to transform back. His silence helped. She allowed the fire that flowed through her to die down in her mind, reducing it to softly glowing embers, before visualising the greying of her phoenix form as it turned to ash. Her trigger to return to human form was Harry; she imagined him asking her for help with something, anything really, and the elemental forces released their hold on her, recognising the need for limbs and a voice.
Still in her animagus form she fluttered to the ground, there was a sudden whoosh of flame consuming her animagus body and Severus watched transfixed. After several moments the flames died down, the red of her feathers, the amber of her eyes, the bright glow that emanated from her, all faded to ash grey.
Severus stepped closer, concerned and realised it was not just the colour of the bird that had changed, it was the very fabric of her being, she was a solid form of ash, practically a statue of compressed cinders.
His eyes never left her as the seconds ticked by; he was beginning to wonder if something had gone wrong; he had only seen animagus transformations relating to non-magical beasts, such as Minerva's cat-form. Surely magical beasts, especially elemental ones are a more difficult form to master. Perhaps she has not quite mastered it. I will not have her as a lawn decoration…
"Hermione…"
The ash broke apart as a head of bushy hair lifted from it. She was in a crouched position and had to bring her arms to floor to steady herself as she moved to bring herself to her feet. She looked at him, smiling.
"Well, that was… something." He said, still rather shocked.
Her smile widened.
"Sorry if I worried you at the end there. When I change, if I haven't got a good amount of the magical energy out with a good flight, it takes some effort to get back to being me."
"I see. Would you like me to cast a scourgify? You are rather covered in the ash that you broke out of."
"Yes, thank you. I think I may need a change of clothes before dinner though. It's the only downside, all the ash."
"Phoenix ash is an invaluable potion ingredient; I used to collect it from Fawkes but obviously that isn't possible these days. Would you be opposed to my harvesting it from your clothing?"
"I don't mind that. Will it be the same substance as true phoenix ash? Given that most of the time I'm a witch, it may have a different chemical makeup."
"I shall do some experiments to find out." He responded, smiling. "Let's get back inside so you can clean up for dinner." He added, guiding her inside, a hand at the small of her back.
"Well if anyone can figure it out, you can." She replied as she walked ahead of him. "You have such a formidable intelligence when it comes to these things. Really, Severus, I'm in awe."
"You are very generous with your praise but the awe is likewise, I assure you. To have mastered the animagus transformation at such a young age is an incredible feat of magical ability, especially as your other form is an elemental being. You have made me quite proud, Miss Granger."
She didn't respond and it felt odd that she wouldn't at least say thank you, polite as she was, for the compliment. He wondered if it had been the slip with her name that had somehow caused her silence. He walked a step or two behind her as they headed back towards the bedroom and en-suite in continued silence. It wasn't until she closed the bathroom door behind her that he heard a sniffle and understood – she was overwhelmed by his praise.
He chose not to comment on it, sure that she would be embarrassed. Instead he reminded her that dinner would be ready in ten minutes and he was heading down to the dining room; asking her to call for Weston when she was ready.
Hermione entered the beautiful dining room just as several platters appeared on the 'set-for-two' dining table; she had piled her hair up on top of her head in a type of bun and apparently secured it with magic, a few loose curls hanging around her face with her wand thrust through the bun. Severus also noticed that she had changed her clothes; she wore much cleaner and much tighter, black denim jeans and a sage green, satin halter neck; her back, arms and neck beautifully exposed.
Severus gulped. She looked stunning. The school girl he was fearful of corrupting in the eyes of the public was gone; the warrior queen whom had fought alongside the 'The Boy Who Lived' to rid the world of Voldemort had also vanished. The woman now entering his dining room was both of those things and yet so much more; she was certainly more woman than girl with warm eyes that made him think of warm honey, soft, full lips still plumped from his bruising kisses and curves that could drive any man to the brink of insanity; she was perfect - a strong, confident witch; stunning inside and out, with enough magical oomph to tame the elemental fires and transform into a phoenix.
Severus felt, knew it with every fibre of his being that he didn't deserve her but as he stared open-mouthed at the woman walking toward him to share a dinner date, his Slytherin side kicked in and he knew he would use every trick in the book, move hell or high water to keep her at his side. The bond had done its job well; he was gone, hook line and sinker, he would be anything she wanted, anything she needed. He just had to attempt to not let her know that… he was still a Slytherin.
As Hermione approached the table, Severus stood to pull out the chair on his left, his eyes never leaving her…
"You look beautiful." He said as she sat down.
"Thank you. You look rather gorgeous yourself. I always thought so of course but it's different now. I like being able to tell you so; makes me feel like I'm not just imagining it."
"You are too kind Hermione. This old face is far from perfect."
"It's perfect to me."
Hermione had always assumed he considered himself less than attractive. It was quite obvious in the way he dressed, robes and clothing made to conceal every possible part of himself; how every inch of those robes and clothes were black, the most obscuring colour to blot out any trance that he was human and magnificent under all that fabric. She was determined to bring him out of the self-loathing that kept him imprisoned; he was amazing, incredibly striking and completely mesmerising and she'd make sure he knew it.
She stood and leaned over to him, planted a chaste kiss on the end of his nose and brought her hands up to cups his face, "I wouldn't have you any other way." She assured him before re-taking her seat. Possibly for the first time in almost twenty-five years, Severus blushed. The slightest tinge of pink, shading his pale cheeks as his heart swelled with something unfamiliar.
This girl… this girl… this woman… he corrected in his mind as he eyes travelled to her cleavage, is amazing. A complete liar despite what Potter said in his patronus, or blind, or her mind is addled by the bond to see things that are not there, but amazing nonetheless. How did I ever get through a day without her?
He cleared his throat, unsure of how to respond, so he didn't.
"Shall we eat?"
"Definitely, I'm starving."
They tucked in heartily, both of them not having had a good meal for a while. The chicken breast was cooked to perfection, succulent and well-seasoned, accompanied by soft baby potatoes and garlic green beans. They ate in a comfortable silence, both engrossed in the enjoyment of the food to think of speaking or have their thoughts run away with them; it was a much needed respite from all the drama of the last few days, the last few years really.
"I must thank Weston for the meal, it was delicious." Hermione said after her gorgeous dinner companion had cleared the plates with a click of his fingers.
"So… you're a phoenix?" Severus said, it was more of a statement than a question but he wanted to get the necessary and inevitable talking out of the way so he could take Hermione to his bed again.
"What was it you used to say about students and stupid questions?" Hermione responded with a smirk.
Severus rolled his eyes.
"Touché, Miss Granger."
Hermione rolled her eyes right back.
"Yes. I decided to learn how to perform the animagus transformation just after the Department of Mysteries battle, just in case I needed to get a quick getaway at some point. I had a feeling it might be coming and apparition is too easily tracked."
"Very impressive. How long did it take you?"
"It took until the Easter holiday of my sixth year. I told no-one though. Sirius had explained the theory too me over the last Christmas we spent with him at Grimmauld Place. I really should get on with registering myself; as the Gryffindor Princess, and no doubt being heralded as some sort of war-heroine, the last thing I need is for Rita Skeeter to get me back."
"Rita Skeeter? I can understand her going to town on a story of you being an unregistered animagus but how would it be getting you back?"
Hermione laughed to herself.
"Of course, you wouldn't know. That bitch is also an unregistered animagus. I found out in fourth year, she's a beetle; I concealed her in a jar with an unbreakable spell on it for the whole of summer 1995 and blackmailed her with her secret to stop her writing stories about me."
Snape's eyebrows were in his hairline.
"How very Slytherin of you?"
"Yes, I thought so." Hermione agreed with self-satisfied grin.
"So, is that where you got the idea to train as an animagus?"
"A little maybe; not that I'd credit her with inspiring the idea. It was much more about the relief Sirius seemed to feel when he transformed, it was…"
"Freedom" Severus supplied.
"Yes. My life, up to that point had been trying to catch up on the endless possibilities that magic provides, my own nature the driving force which led me to learn everything I possibly could, just to catch up with my peers. Being muggle-born and not knowing anything about magic until I turned eleven made me feel at a distinct disadvantage to everyone else; I studied like a girl possessed just to catch up. On top of that, I met Harry and even though he is one of the greatest friends I will ever have, practically a brother really after everything we've been through, I still got dragged into this crazy war."
She took a deep breath to calm down. She hadn't planned to go off on a tangent but the subtle change into how insane her life had become riled her up. That wasn't what she was trying to achieve. She took another deep breath and remembered who she was talking to; Severus Snape was not likely to appreciate her rant.
"It all changed during the battle at the Department of Mysteries. Dolohov's curse hit me at the same time as all the prophecies shattered and so the magic travelled through about forty clouds of dispersing prophetic magic. When the curse hit me, so did the prophecies; I assume they were dragged into me by his curse but rather than the freezing of my blood which I was told later should have been the effect of the curse, my blood was suffused with escaped prophecies. Without the orbs that held them, they needed a new host and I was it. On the night when the wizarding world finally became aware that Voldemort was back, the night that Harry and Dumbledore were exonerated, I became something of an oracle."
Severus' eyes were wide at this point.
"How do you know that you are an oracle and not a seer?"
"I did my research." She smirked.
"Of course you did." Snape responded, rolling his eyes.
"I had been injected with the voices, the magic of centuries of powerful seers. The combination of prophecies and Dolohov's curse is, for the want of a better word, experimental. The curse was of his own making so I've been told and so very little is known about it, other than the tests that were done on me at St Mungo's. I'm the first to survive it."
"Something you have in common with Potter then."
She nodded.
"So this oracle ability is how you knew of my true loyalties?"
"Yes." She nodded. "Everything you put into those memories for Harry, the seers whispered them to me, the prophecies showed me. At first I couldn't control it but I found that once I learned to transform into a phoenix, they were easier to switch on and off. I've also discovered that it is only when a decision is made that I have a vision of that decision's outcome. It was last week, while we were hiding out in the Forest of Dean that I had the vision of you dying. I cried for you, all night I cried. I was the only one who knew you were a good man, an innocent man, forced into this role of Order spy and Death Eater henchman, of you having to hide your entire life, personal thoughts and feelings behind occlumency shields, having to sacrifice your hopes and dreams for the sake of saving Harry and defeating Voldemort, it didn't seem fair for you to have to sacrifice your life as well. I couldn't allow it, I wouldn't allow it.
"You are a formidable and compassionate witch, Hermione. I truly do not deserve you." Snape said shakily, a tear in his eye.
"What you deserve, no one is capable of providing but I'd like to try. The tears I cried for you on the night of your vision, those are the tears I used to save you. It seems the magic of my phoenix is present even in my human form. I think possibly that the soul-mate thing might have something to do with that too. Perhaps no one else could have saved you. I knew, thanks to the visions the exact moment to save many people; Fred Weasley, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks… erm, Nymphadora Lupin actually, and you. That's where I went when I first left you after saving you; I was on quite the tight schedule… to save them all."
"So you had the whole battle planned? You knew exactly what was to come?"
"Not everything but a lot of it. Enough to kill Dolohov and Greyback; enough to thoroughly enjoy watching Molly Weasley kill Bellatrix and enough to give Neville the push he needed to kill Nagini."
"That was quite the plan. And the Dark Lord?"
"Yes it was and I made sure Harry was well equipped with an easy target. Something even I hadn't expected to be so easy but I had help… very special, very ancient, very Hogwarts help."
"Oh?" Severus asked, more curious than he'd ever been in his life.
"Yes but I'll tell you about that after dessert, I'm craving chocolate. Do you think Weston will mind?"
He smiled indulgently at her but only for a moment before that smile morphed into a roguish grin.
"Weston."
There was a slight pop as Weston appeared and Severus spoke to him without taking his eyes from Hermione.
"Weston, we are ready for dessert. Something chocolatey at Miss Granger's request; something rich warm and sticky would be my choice."
"Yes sir." The elf said with a slight smile that he understood his Master's plans.
"And Weston, please serve us in the Master Suite."
"Of course sir." And the elf popped away.
"Come, Miss Granger. After the last few years and having to put up with me, you deserve a massage."
He stood, holding out his hand, which she gladly took, smiling at the warmth and respect in his eyes as he pulled her close and turned on the spot, apparating them into the bedroom.
A/N: Well, that was a job and a half to get written and the explanations and reveals have been a very long time coming. I really couldn't hold back any longer. Obviously, there are more revelations to come but what kind of Slytherin would I be if I gave you everything in one go?