Author's Notes:
Thaumaturgical and thaumic levels are one and the same and are not entirely a figment of my imagination, but how they are used is. It's a one to ten scale for those who are interested.
Usual warnings: Slight language. Slight and implied naughtiness
Non verbal communication is in "italics"
I own nothing but my imagination such as it is and my muses belong elsewhere.
Enjoy!
Disbelief
Hermione stirred in the early hours as Severus' body shifted slightly underneath her. She knew she'd not been asleep long as they'd gone to bed late, but something told her that he hadn't been to sleep at all.
Looking up at him, she realised she was right and asked groggily, "Having trouble sleeping?"
Severus sighed deeply. "Today has been difficult...at least emotionally."
"You're telling me," Hermione huffed quietly, snuggling into him once again.
They didn't say anything more to each other, but as Severus twisted her hair around his fingers and Hermione absentmindedly stroked his chest, their thoughts wandered back over the events of the day. Both were exhausted, but tonight was one of those nights where sleep would not come easily.
Earlier that day
Hermione had come to the realisation that she loved the way Severus threw open doors. It used to scare the hell out of her when she first arrived at Hogwarts, but for a few years now she felt...well the only way to describe it was, quite aroused by it.
The headmaster walked over to his desk and Summoned a chair next to his for Hermione. Once she was seated, he squeezed her hand gently before addressing Dumbledore.
"Albus, we have just returned from the courtyard outside Gryffindor Tower and..."
"I am aware, Severus. We portraits do talk you know," Dumbledore replied cheekily, the ever present glint in his eye shining away.
"Pardon me for breathing," Severus grumbled petulantly. "Shall I carry on or are you already aware of my next utterance?"
"A strange occurrence happened when Hermione touched the stone?" Albus ventured.
Severus sighed before quipping, "You seem determined to steal my thunder!"
Dumbledore merely smirked as the headmaster continued. "Well, your theory seems to hold true in some respects."
"And I proved it by nearly burning my hand off, but who cares as long as your theories are proved right," Hermione muttered under her breath before asking, "Now would either of you like to tell me what the hell is going on?"
A sense of panic swept over the dark-haired wizard. Taking her injured hand, he enquired if she and her hand were alright.
Hermione winced as Severus examined the burn more closely. "It's a bit sore, but not too bad."
The next thing she knew, Severus had Summoned a jar of Burn Paste with a simple flick of his wrist.
Hermione smirked, remembering his "no foolish wand waving" speech. He only seemed to use his wand when he wanted to hex someone. The only other person she'd ever seen use such discrete displays of magic was Dumbledore himself. She went to reach for the jar, but Severus batted her hand out of the way and applied it himself whilst Dumbledore began to answer her question.
"The answer is, as always, complicated, Miss Granger," Dumbledore told her sagely. "Could you perhaps Summon the third book along on the fourth bookshelf of the second bookcase on the right, please?"
Hermione went to pull out her wand, but Dumbledore shook his head. "Try it wandlessly and non verbally."
"I...I can't. I've never done non verbal wandless magic before," she stuttered with a sense of panic.
"Why not do so now?" Albus encouraged genially.
Hermione looked to Severus for reassurance. He simply jerked his head towards the bookcase.
Holding out her hand before her, she thought of the book, Summoned it and was completely taken aback when the book the former headmaster had asked for flew into her hand.
Dumbledore brought his hands together joyfully. "Excellent!"
She looked at Severus, who just smirked. "Well, who's a clever girl then?"
Elated with her success, the young witch enthused, "I've never done anything like that before," but then an air of concern hit her. "But wandless non verbal spells aren't something you should be able to do unless you're more practised or unusually gifted. Your thaumaturgical level normally needs to be seven or greater to do this and I've only read about one person who achieved that level at..., " she swallowed hard, a wave of panic washing over her before she continued, "...my age. Tom Riddle."
"What makes you think you're not unusually gifted, sweetheart?" Severus asked her gently.
Hermione shrugged. "Well I'm not...I'm just me," she told him quietly.
Severus just shook his head. Putting his arm around, he pulled her towards him before planting a kiss atop her head. "You're annoyingly modest for a know-it-all," he mused before whispering, "must be one of the many reasons why I love you."
Hermione blushed before she heard Dumbledore ask her, "Do you know what my level was at your age and in my prime? In my prime I was magnificent..."
"Hermione, whenever he mentions his prime, change the subject immediately. He will tell you sordid tales about a wizard he once knew. Said wizard being himself!" Severus shuddered as he thought what tale Dumbledore could have been about to regale.
Looking slightly embarrassed, Hermione managed to compose herself enough to say cheekily, "Well, I suppose it was nine and then ten."
"I'm thrilled to see Severus is rubbing off on you...quite literally, I hope, my dear," Albus chuckled, thrilled at his puerile joke. "No, my level was seven at school and nine in my prime. But ever since you knew me, old age was taking its toll. By the time Severus did me a great service..."
Severus shifted awkwardly in his chair. "Do you have to mention that?" he asked uncomfortably.
"Severus, my dear boy. Your guilt is neither required nor desired," Dumbledore stated firmly. He was getting a little tired of Severus' feeling unnecessarily guilt-ridden over something that he was tasked to do.
"As I was saying, my dear," the portrait continued, "by the time Severus performed the task I assigned him so admirably, my level had deteriorated to a mere six. However, never underestimate a few simple parlour tricks to maintain the illusion of power.
"Now, as for Severus...although this will be the first he knows of it...he was also a level seven at your age."
Severus raised an eyebrow at this snippet of information.
"Thaumic testing is not common practice for pupils," Albus told Hermione, "but we tested Severus when his aptitude for the Dark Arts came to the fore and once again when he took the Mark. Minerva administered the test. It is most unobtrusive."
"Obviously," Severus snarked, shocked to discover that they had tested him without his knowledge.
Hermione looked puzzled. "But Professor, you were considered one of the most powerful wizards in history."
"As were Merlin, Grindlewald and Voldemort. As were the Founders. I envisage both Severus and yourself joining our illustrious ranks. Harry will be known as a great wizard, but he'll never be as powerful as you," Dumbledore told her frankly.
"No, that's not possible," Hermione protested.
Severus rolled his eyes at her protestation. He hated the fact that Hermione had so much difficulty understanding that she was indeed powerful. "Why not? You're the brightest witch of your age and that doesn't just mean your physical age."
"Being powerful doesn't change you as a person. Your personality will always remain true," Dumbledore reminded her. "It doesn't make you invincible. Your parlour tricks are just more impressive. Magic is a gift to be used responsibly."
Hermione's eyes drifted towards Severus and a pang of guilt hit her as a thought which she hated herself for struck.
Noticing her pained expression, Dumbledore was quick to assuage her fear. "Ah, but Hermione, as you well know, we can all be weak and if our weakness is great enough we can be seduced. Severus was seduced by an ideal when he was vulnerable, but that is not his true nature as you well know. We failed Severus and that regret I still hold in my heart to this day."
Sensing her unease, Severus took her hand and kissed it.
"You have always been powerful, Hermione," Dumbledore told her calmly, "but it is my belief that your power has been suppressed and it has taken this bond to release your full potential. You should be tested again."
Shaking her head, she whispered, "I don't know."
"I am more than happy to be tested alongside you if it makes you feel more comfortable, but I believe Albus' assumption is correct," Severus told her reassuringly.
Dumbledore looked over the top of his half moon glasses. "My dear, surely you haven't forgotten that in order to protect Severus in recent days you have created a force powerful enough to throw people across a room?"
A sense of fear and confusion washed over the curly-haired witch and she looked pleadingly into Severus' eyes. No matter how much she tried to deny it, her sudden outbursts of power and her inability to control them were scaring her. Being tested was the most responsible thing to do.
She nodded her assent.
"It'll be fine," Severus mouthed with a soft smile.
All of a sudden, Hermione blurted out, "If we're both that powerful, what effect will it have on our children?"
"Nothing," Severus assured her, trying to keep her calm. Fuck she's worried about our children...she wants more than one? She's going to have the most beautiful baby bump...oh, for fuck's sake, Severus, stop thinking like that! But, yes, she will...
Dumbledore couldn't contain his mirth. "My dear, all it would mean is that your children will have you as parents and, as such, they'll be quite capable of causing all sorts of mayhem. But as I expect you'll still be teaching here and Severus will still be Headmaster, I'd say that will be well and truly your problem."
Severus just glared at him whilst Hermione felt herself blushing.
The headmaster summoned Missy to fetch Minerva. Twenty seconds later and Minerva came out of the fire place.
"What is so important, Severus, that you have to send a house elf to disturb my afternoon nap?"
"Oh, nothing really. I just thought I'd do it for a laugh," Severus told her sardonically.
Dumbledore then spoke up. "Minerva, dear, can you test Hermione and Severus' Thaumic levels?"
"Sorry?" Minerva responded, shocked at the request. "Why on earth...? There better be a good reason. Oh, and by the way, Severus, remarkable progress was made on the Gryffindor Tower this afternoon."
Severus looked at Dumbledore, who disconcertingly winked at him whilst jerking his head towards Hermione.
Severus looked at Hermione, who was now looking as pale as a ghost and responded distractedly. "That is indeed encouraging news."
"It is indeed. We may get there yet," Minerva said optimistically, silently carrying out the necessary testing spell.
The Head of Gryffindor's eyes flicked towards the portrait of Dumbledore communicating her surprise, before she announced, "Well, then. You, Hermione, are a level seven. Severus, you are a level eight."
"No!" Hermione screamed, panic punching through her chest. She couldn't breathe. She needed air and the next thing she knew she was running for the door, brushing past Professor McGonagall who had bustled forward to try and comfort her.
"Hermione!" Severus called after her, but that was all he could say before she was gone.
As he prepared to follow her, Dumbledore asked, "Would now be a bad time to mention elemental influences?"
"Oh, fuck off!" Severus growled before running after his witch.
He saw Hermione disappear towards the entrance hall. By the time he got there, she was already out of the castle. He knew she would seek out the familiar; a place where she would feel safe, and he knew exactly where she would go. Knowing this, he decided to bide his time, and waited a few moments before he went after her.
Severus tried to reach his destination as nonchalantly, but as speedily as possible. He took a moment to compose himself before knocking on the heavy wooden door. As it opened, he looked up at Hagrid who was protectively restricting access into his newly built hut.
"Ah 'eadmaster. 'ermione's a bit upset."
Severus sighed deeply. "Yes, I know."
"But as yer not the cause you can come in," Hagrid told him cheerfully.
"You're far too kind," Severus responded sardonically as he entered Hagrid's abode and saw a crying Hermione curled up in the oversized armchair.
Without saying a word, Severus scooped her into his arms and sat down, pulling her in close to his chest. Gently rocking her, he kissed and stroked her hair as he tried to calm her.
Hagrid looked on awkwardly as one of his favourite pupils, and someone whom he now considered a friend, lay in the arms of the headmaster.
As her sobbing subsided, Hermione sat up and rubbed her eyes. Sniffing loudly she tried to explain what had brought about her sudden departure. "Eight years ago, I got a letter telling me that I was a witch. Before that I was a freak. I was confused, I had no friends in the Muggle world apart from two...and I only see one of them these days...and I came here desperate to fit in. And I never really did. I was the brainy one. No one wanted me because they liked me...well, apart from Harry, the Weasleys, Neville and Luna. I could help them with their homework, but that was the only reason they wanted to be around me. And now, I've just found out that I'm considered as powerful as the likes of Dumbledor and Tom Riddle...and you...and that I could be a great witch. But I can't be. I'm Muggleborn. I'm..."
"Stop that now," both Severus and Hagrid boomed at her.
Severus tried to contain his annoyance with her. "For your information, the majority of powerful witches and wizards are Half-blood. Slytherin was a Pureblood and all this rubbish stems from him. How do you think I felt growing up being a Half-blood in a Pureblood house?" he snarled at her. But then cupping her cheek, he said in a more gently, "I do understand how you feel, but listen to me. Just because you're a Muggleborn doesn't mean you can't be gifted and I'm amazed that after everything you've achieved that you still feel like this."
"But it's just so much to take in," Hermione told him, wiping away the new tears that were tumbling down her cheeks. "I woke up this morning and I was just me and now..."
Smiling at the young witch kindly, Hagrid said cheerfully, "Yer a clever girl 'ermione. You'll get yer 'ead around this."
Severus tilted his head and looked at her. "I know it's a lot to take in. But you're still the same person you were when you woke up this morning. Although, you're not as irritable as you were this morning," he teased, which earned him a playful slap. "Do you think I consider myself powerful? Skilled, yes, but that's just me. And you're just you. But then," he mused, "I suppose I've been aware of the existence of magic for thirty eight years."
"When did you first exhibit?" Hermione asked quietly, trying to compose herself. Knowing how unhappy he'd been, she was always nervous asking about his childhood. The unhappiness seemed to cloud his memories, but she was determined to make him remember the good times, as well.
Severus looked slightly embarrassed. "I was two. You can ask Grandmother about it tomorrow."
"Grandmother?"
Severus nodded. "Well, her portrait, but I can tell you she wasn't best pleased!"
Hermione giggled softly, wondering what he had done. "Mum said I was about two, as well. I threw my spaghetti hoops across the kitchen into the dining room...through the wall. Well, I didn't like them," she said blushing.
"I believe I did something similar, but with grandmother's cat," Severus informed her whilst trying not to laugh at the shock on her face. "I think it is safe to say that both occurrences showed a fair amount of power."
Once her shock had subsided and she managed to tease Severus about the incident, Hermione pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. "I'm scared, Sev." Hermione admitted quietly.
Severus pulled her in close to his chest again, but it was Hagrid that spoke. "'ermione, there's no need to be afraid. You're still you. We all loves yer and we won't let you get outta hand."
Hermione smiled affectionately at her friend. Despite being a half giant, Hagrid always had a way of making the world seem normal. She relaxed against her wizard who nodded when they were asked if they would be staying for a cup of tea.
"Oh good. I made some cakes earlier," Hagrid announced, which caused the headmaster to say something about feeling too delicate still to eat anything.
Hermione wasn't quite so subtle in refusing Hagrid's infamously inedible baking. "Oh, I've given up cake because Ginny's on a diet and I'm showing her solidarity by not having any this week."
Severus pulled back very slowly to look at her and raising an eyebrow, thought to her, Of all the bullshit you could have come up with that was the best, was it?
Hermione just shrugged.
Leaving Hagrid's hut, the couple walked back up to the castle slowly, holding hands and talking, blissfully unaware that they were being observed.
Minerva was beaming as she stared out of the window in the Headmaster's office.
"They are returning, I see," Dumbledore ventured from his vantage point on the wall.
"How did you know?" Minerva asked, distractedly.
"Because woman you are practically dancing a jig. Now, when are you going to admit that I was right about those two?" the former headmaster teased.
"When they get married."
"So, my victory will not be long coming, then."
This caused Minerva to turn round abruptly. "They've only just got together, Albus. Let them enjoy themselves before they rush into marriage. And besides she's still so young."
Dumbledore shrugged. "She is old enough, and besides we need their engagement to trigger the prophecy. It is imperative."
Professor McGonagall rose to her full height and looked at the portrait sternly; her dulcet scottish tone turning acerbic. "You have interfered in that poor boy's life enough. You will not manipulate them into getting engaged. I sense myself it won't be too long, but I also know Severus has no intention of messing this up. Do not apply pressure where it is not needed."
"Minerva..."
"...No Albus! Severus may do his best to hide it, but he's still damaged and she has only just begun to heal him. For all his strength, he is fragile. Honestly, there is no question of how they feel about each other. Yes, I'm uncomfortable about Hermione's age, but she has demonstrated that she can handle Severus with all his complexities. If you'd seen them the other morning there is no doubt that they'll find their own way. And probably a lot quicker than if you stick your oar in."
"You really are a stubborn old bag, aren't you?" Dumbledore teased, his eyes glinting.
"It takes one to know one."
As they walked into the entrance hall, Severus slowed down causing them both to stop. "Do you want to continue this discussion now or shall we leave it until Monday?"
Hermione sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist, cuddling into Severus as he pushed his fingers through her hair and held her close. They stayed like that for a moment without a word passing between them. It was Hermione who moved first, and as she pulled away she said, "Let's go," before striding off towards the Headmaster's office.
Severus stood and watched her, shaking his head at yet another display of Hermione's resilience. He still couldn't believe how lucky he was.
You really are an amazing woman, Hermione Granger. You know that, don't you? he thought to her.
Hermione laughed and turning round, gave him a cheeky smile. "You must be rubbing off on me then."
Feeling the growl start in his chest, he caught up with her quickly. Grabbing her by the wrist, he had her pinned up against the wall in one fluid movement. Undoing her jeans, his lips crashed against hers as his hand slid into her knickers. Quickly finding her clit, he began teasing it, letting her moans wash over him.
Hermione pushed her fingers through Severus' hair, trying not to cry out. Between Severus' fingers and the knowledge that they were in an open corridor, her pussy was soaking...a fact which nearly caused Severus to lose all self control.
The thought of fucking her up against the wall was becoming too much to bear, but somehow, he managed to steer his thoughts back to his current objective of making her cum all over his hand.
He quickly cast Muffliato, but didn't bother to conceal them further. There were no pupils in school, very few teachers were around and he needed this. He needed this spontaneity because frankly he couldn't remember how it felt to do something that had not been meticulously planned. He knew that in the future they would have to behave with much more decorum, but that could wait for another day.
Severus loved how Hermione trembled during and after an orgasm, and her stupid little comments afterwars as she tried to regain her composure, always made him laugh.
"Your hair's a mess, Sev. What have you been doing?" she teased.
Pressing his forehead to hers, his response was to the point. "Trying my damnedest not to fuck you."
"Not long now," she whispered in his ear.
"I know, and you have no idea how much I want you," he purred softly.
Reaching down, she ran her hand along his trapped erection.
"Oh, I think I do," she told him, giving him a quick peck on the lips before heading off towards Severus' office so that they could hear the next part of Dumbledore's theory.
"You must understand that this theory has been pulled together by many of your illustrious predecessors, Severus", Dumbledore stated calmly. "Unsurprisingly, the Founders have been unavailable whenever we've tried to hold discussions. In fact, Salazar has gone completely, Godric just winks, Rowena smiles and Helga...well, who knows what goes through her head, but they seem determined that we should play detective rather than be helpful. Have you heard from the entity recently?"
"No, but we stayed with Lucius last night and the night before we slept in my room," Hermione informed him matter-of-factly.
"And where, pray tell, are you sleeping tonight, Severus?" Minerva asked snarkily.
Severus cocked his head. "Why? Are you making me an offer, Minerva?" He couldn't help but smirk as his deputy's Scottish bluster came into full effect.
Interrupting what could have proved to become a full blown, but amusing war of words, Dumbledore spoke with more urgency than was customary for him. "As much as Minerva's face is an absolute picture at the moment, we do have important matters to discuss. Now, Hermione, my dear, tell me of your first magical experience."
Hermione gave the former headmaster a warm smile. "I was just telling Severus and Hagrid about it actually. I threw spaghetti hoops at the wall, but the bowl ended up going through it. I'm sure Mum said I was about two, but obviously I can't check with her."
The sad tone in Hermione's voice when she mentioned her absent mother had Severus squeezing her thigh reassuringly. His fingers closed around Hermione's as she placed her hand on top of his.
"Ah, the same age as Severus, but he threw his poor grandmother's cat through two walls and into a pond, if I remember rightly. Poor animal. It was only trying to lick his hand," Dumbledore chuckled.
Hermione snorted. "Remind me not to lick his hand."
Dumbledore grinned lasciviously and peered over the top of his half-moon glasses. "I'm sure he doesn't mind you li..."
"That's enough you old bastard. Get on with it," Severus snapped.
Knowing that he was overstepping the mark, Dumbledore went back to the issue at hand. "Quite simply, Hermione, you came onto our...what's the muggle phrase now? Something to do with flying machines?"
"Radar?" Hermione offered.
"Yes, that," Dumbledore said, pondering the word. "Yes, you came onto our radar from a very young age, as did Severus, but, of course, we received regular updates from Lady Prince via her spies. But you will remember a Mrs Nelson who lived three doors away from you?"
Hermione's eyes widened. "Yes, of course I do. She used to talk to me and Mum quite a lot," she told him, fondly remembering the strange old lady who used to give her comforting smiles when she felt alone in the world.
Dumbledore smiled before continuing. "She was a squib. Much like Harry had Mrs Figg, who incidentally was the breeder that your Crookshanks came from. Such a small world we live in, don't you think? I was, of course, sorry to hear of his passing. We spoke often. But again I digress..."
"No shit," Severus muttered much to Hermione's amusement.
"Hermione, we were aware of your power, but you must realise that your thaumic level doesn't affect your personality. Tom was a psychopath. I saw that when I visited him at the orphanage. But went you on your little sojourn, Minerva reminded me of another level seven witch who is very much of your acquaintance: Molly Prewett. She is an incredibly talented witch, a beautifully generous and kind human being who went on to breed a quidditch team, but you wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of her, would you?"
"Uh no," Hermione giggled, remembering all the times they were yelled at by Ron's mother. However, that wasn't all she remembered and her face dropped.
"What I'm trying to say, my dear, is that your thaumatological level is an indicator of power only rather than intent. If you have evil intent you can be a level two and reek havoc. If you have good intent and are powerful, your ability to do greater things simply comes more easily. It does not affect what is inside you," Dumbledore reminded her quietly.
Hermione was still distant, mourning the potential loss of the other family that she had in the Weasleys. She knew Ginny was there for her, but Ron had made sure that things could never be the same again. Yes, she had Severus now, but the thought of losing her second family upset her greatly.
"Now, what do you know of elemental magic, Hermione?" Albus asked breaking the young witch from her thoughts.
"Well, not much," she admitted, but then went on to provide an almost textbook answer. "It forms the basic magical field that witches and wizards are naturally attuned to and consist of the four elements: Earth, Fire, Water and Air. I've read about pure elemental witches and wizards, but they are more than likely extinct. However, some have a greater alignment to a particular element and where there are strong elemental magical fields places like Hogwarts exist."
"We've taught this girl well, haven't we?" Dumbledore beamed at Professors' McGonagall and Snape.
"She is a credit more to herself than to our syllabuses and teaching," Severus told him authoritatively, stealing a sideways glance at his witch.
"Well, now, young lady," Dumbledore continued, "One of the things you mentioned was that some witches and wizards have a natural proclivity towards a certain element. This is indeed true and if you are such a witch or wizard, the higher your thaumic level the more attuned you are with your element. Now, I am sure Severus will set you a task to examine the nuances of elemental magic."
Hermione considered this before turning to Severus. "So you think I'm aligned to an element?"
"Possibly. Albus suggested that elemental magic may play a part in the Founders' interest in you, but it really isn't my field of expertise," he told her wishing he could be of more help.
"Of course," Dumbledore acknowledged. "Determining elemental alignment is long and complicated process."
"Oh, that's tremendous news," Severus groused. "I thought we might have solved this in the next five minutes, and then we can all get on with our lives."
"Sev, you're not helping," Hermione murmered, looking at the floor.
Severus looked concerned. He knew this was affecting her more than she was letting on and he certainly knew that he was beginning to feel frustrated by the whole situation.
"If I might make a suggestion," Minerva offered, placing her hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Albus, if you know or even suspect Hermione's alignment, please tell her. She and Severus can then investigate from there, if necessary. But for the love of Circe stop playing games with these two."
Dumbledore sighed. "If I could I would. But what I have been able to ascertain is the alignments of the Founders: Slytherin was Fire, Gryffindor was Earth, Ravenclaw was Water and Hufflepuff was Air...well, she was definitely an airhead, but there we are. Now, interestingly, having spoken to many of the former Headmasters and Heads of House it would appear that all Heads of House have had, to some extent, an alignment similar to their Founder's. But I must emphasise the phrase 'to some extent'. Manifestations range from personality traits to an aptitude for certain spells and disciplines."
"I suppose I can control Fiendfyre," Severus revealed quietly. "Annoyingly, this approach may make some sense."
He had to admit that this discovery could be vital in their research.
Hermione and Minerva looked at each other in shock before turning to Severus and asked simultaneously, "You can control Fiendfyre?"
Severus shrugged. "How else do you think we always have a stock of Ashwinder eggs?"
Minerva paled. "Dear Merlin, if I'd known you could do that I would never have duelled you with fire."
"You have to voice the incantation, Minerva. So if I didn't say it or think it you were perfectly safe. You see, that is how we cast spells," Severus teased with an earnest, almost innocent expression, which only earned him an icy glare.
"Really, Severus, you are too much sometimes," Minerva snapped.
"Well, you'll be someone worth knowing then when I take over Potions," Hermione told him, feeling a little lighter of spirit.
"I will charge, you know, but I'm sure we can come to some arrangement."
Hermione could tell by the way he looked at her what that would involve.
"There we are," Albus declared, "your first piece of evidence. Therefore, Hermione, as well as any research that Severus has asked for, speak to the Sorting Hat. There may be some interesting correlations. Take your own sorting, as well as that of Severus, Minerva, Pomona and Filius as they should provide the truest outcomes. And then expand it to include myself, Tom Riddle, Harry I believe would be interesting, all the Black boys and girls and not forgetting Lily Evans. Then look at anyone else who you think may be valuable to your research."
Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the mention of Lily, causing Severus to glare at the former headmaster.
Hermione knew it was stupid, but she was jealous of the Lily she was told to investigate. Because That Lily...the one who arrived at Hogwarts...had Severus' total devotion and was totally devoted to him. But putting that to the back of her mind, Hermione considered the Founders' alignments and bit her bottom lip nervously. Letting her logic take over, she mused, "If Gryffindor was aligned to Earth then surely as a Gryffindor I will be attuned to that?"
Severus and Minerva considered this. "Then by that assumption, as Head of Gryffindor House I should be aligned to Earth and as I am adept at Transfiguration, that would make sense. And yet I could not achieve what you did today with the Castle. And not for the want of trying, I might add."
Hermione's face fell again, but then a thought occurred to her. "Can you be aligned to more than one element?"
"It is rare, but possible," Dumbledore confirmed, impressed by Hermione's way of thinking.
And whilst Severus was equally impressed, he was finding it hard to keep his frustration in check. "Why don't we just approach the entity directly rather than subject ourselves to this? We may discover Hermione's alignment, but that still doesn't answer the important question. What do they want with us?"
"No, you cannot possibly do that!" Dumbledore started before Professor McGonagall interjected.
Minerva was becoming increasingly annoyed with Dumbledore's treatment of Severus and Hermione and she had just about had enough.
"Albus, if you want to help, help! But you never quite know when to stop meddling or riddling, do you? This involves Severus and Hermione and whilst we should support them, we should let them deal with this in their own way. However, I do believe there is some merit in Hermione reviewing the elemental characteristics of the Sortings so that she can evaluate, test and come to terms with her own alignment. It will be easier for her and then if they want, they can approach the entity directly. It will be better for both of them this way."
Severus ran his hand through his hair. All they wanted were answers and yet they just seemed to be opening up a can of worms. He wished they could just ignore it and get on with their lives, but it was no longer an annoyance: today had seen to that. Hermione was doubting who she was and it he had to put a stop that at least.
He looked over at Hermione, and seeing how drained she looked, he announced, "I think we should call it a day. Why don't you go and have a lie down, love? You look knackered."
Hermione glared at him, and whilst she resisted at first, when Minerva told Hermione that she agreed with Severus, and he said he would be down to see her in an hour, she finally agreed.
Giving him a quick kiss, Hermione headed to her rooms. Severus just hoped she would be asleep by the time he got there.
An hour later, as promised, Severus was walking into Hermione's bedroom, having thrown his frock coat down onto her sofa. He found her laying on the bed with her back to the door, but he could tell by her breathing that she was still awake, and much to his dismay, he could tell that she'd been crying. Without saying a word, he laid down behind her and pulled her to him. As he held her tight and nuzzled her neck, Hermione relaxed into him. It wasn't long before the dark-haired wizard realised that his witch had drifted off to sleep.
Carefully extricating himself from her side, he went back to his office and Floo-called Minerva.
"How's Hermione?" the older witch asked.
"Sleeping thankfully, but could you do me a favour? I need to go out. Can you keep an eye on her, please? This afternoon has really upset her, and I just need to discuss the details of something I'm arranging for her. Obviously, I don't want her getting wind of it, but at the same time I don't want her distressed should she wake up and I'm not there. I promise I won't be too long."
"I didn't know you were so romantic, Severus?" Minerva teased.
"I'm not sure how romantic this is, but she will appreciate it...I hope."
"I'm sure she will," his deputy mused before adding, "I will go to her rooms."
"I would appreciate that," Severus told her sincerely, a small smile upon his lips. But as the call ended, his smile dropped completely. Picking up a handful of Floo powder, he looked up at Dumbledore and cautioned, "Not a word to anyone."
The former headmaster bowed his head deferentially. "Do what you have to do, Severus. My lips are sealed."
With that, his successor, threw the Floo powder into the grate and stated his destination. "The Ministry of Magic."
Severus returned to his office well after dinner to finish off some urgent correspondence before taking the whole weekend off and putting Minerva in charge. He was tired, but he had too much to do and too much to think about. Hermione was obviously upset and on top of all the unanswered questions, the importance of tomorrow could not be put into words. They were going to make love for the first time.
He was not going to get hung up on the romanticised notion of taking a woman's virginity. But that didn't mean he wasn't sensitive to the responsibility he felt. He wanted it to be perfect for her, but comforted himself knowing that at least her first time wouldn't be some limp-wristed attempt that left her unsatisfied and underwhelmed. Talk about putting pressure on yourself.
And he was putting pressure on himself. He kept thinking about the plans he'd made, and he kept wondering if it was too much or even too little. He kept trying to put it to the back of his mind by going over the events of the day, but it was only when he finally put down his quill that his thoughts finally turned to other matters.
He leaned back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling, he considered what Hermione had said about only finding out that she was a witch eight years ago. The standard line from the Ministry had always been that there was nothing that could be done to assist Muggleborns earlier as it was deemed a breach of the Statute of Secrecy, but with Albus' revelation that it was not just Potter, but also Hermione who was being watched over by a squib, then why couldn't she have been told earlier that she was a witch? Their abilities were detectable, so was ten or eleven years old really the right time to inform Muggleborns that they're magical? Pureblood and Half-blood children grew up knowing that they were not freaks. Yet many Muggleborns were exhibiting, not understanding their talents and feeling ostracised from the Muggle world only to experience similar and often...although hopefully not for much longer...shunned by elements of the Wizarding world. But if they could be told sooner and supported, the question was: how?
And then he realised that the solution was fairly simple, but undoubtedly radical. Surely he wasn't thinking what he thought he was thinking: a preparatory school for Muggleborns? As they exhibited, their families could be approached and invited to enrol, and then, as in Hermione's case, they wouldn't feel like a freak for nearly nine years. Pure and Halfbloods could be introduced to their Muggleborn counterparts at an earlier age, thus ensuring that the current divides were broken down. The Ministry would never hear of it. They would argue that it was impractical and a threat to the Wizarding world.
He knew he would be ridiculed for bringing such a suggestion to the table, and was about to push the thought to the section of his mind entitled, 'Stupid Ideas,' when he realised that the idea would be neither impractical or radical if he mentioned it to Hermione in passing. Once, the idea was embedded in his witch's head, she wouldn't stop until the staff were appointed and the first Muggleborn four year olds were in attendance.
Severus smirked at the thought of her relentless campaigning and stretched, turning his head towards the window. He noticed how bright the full moon was against the dark, Scottish sky, and it was then that he had another stupid idea.
Hermione had decided to go to bed early. She was emotionally and mentally exhausted, but as she lay in Severus' bed she knew sleep would elude her until he was laid beside her. Getting up with a sigh she padded over to window. The Black Lake looked beautiful with the moonlight reflecting upon its dark depths and casting her gaze upwards, the full moon had her entranced.
However, her heart became heavy as she recalled the man who had once transformed before her eyes on a night such as this and his vivacious wife. The tragedy of their loss was not just that they gave up their lives defending the light, but that they had left behind their little boy: another orphan of war.
She was thinking about the last time Harry had brought Teddy to Grimmauld Place when she heard the door to Severus' chambers slam. Opening the bedroom door to greet him, she asked with an air of anticipation, "Do you want to go for a walk down to the lake?"
His thunder slightly stolen, Severus huffed and walking past her into the bedroom, he drawled, "A walk in the moonlight? How sickeningly romantic of you."
"Oh, forget I mentioned it then," Hermione snapped, annoyed by his indifference, and before he had time to respond, she stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
The very same door was then flung open, and before Hermione had chance to look into the mirror she could already sense that Severus was stood directly behind her. She knew she'd over reacted a little and wanted to lean back into him as a way of apologising for her outburst. But feeling his breath against her ear, she stopped herself, waiting for whatever chastisement she was sure was coming her way.
"I was actually thinking the very same thing," he told her smoothly. "Shall we?"
Hermione couldn't quite contain the buzz of excitement she felt as they walked, hand in hand, down to the lake. It seemed hard to believe that Severus Snape would be a hand holder. Then again, it didn't seem likely that he would be a cuddler, but she had irrefutable evidence on both counts that he was.
And Severus had to admit that being able to walk to the Black Lake like this was something that he was very much looking forward to doing on a regular basis. He no longer had to worry about being called away or fighting off potential threats or even having to try and stop Potter, Weasley and the Minx from killing themselves. And the fact that he was able to do this with said Minx made every hardship that he'd ever endured pale into insignificance.
It almost seemed ridiculous how he felt about her, but in every sense, she was his reason to keep breathing. He didn't know if he could ever tell her how much she meant to him, but he now had at least a hundred years to try, and if she didn't know by then, she obviously wasn't the insufferable know-it-all that he so often accused her of being.
Sitting down on the blanket that had been produced from her bag, Hermione looked around her, admiring the beauty of the area. "I didn't know about this spot."
"I don't know," Severus sighed playfully. "You've been here eight years and you think you know all about this place, don't you?"
"Oh, I forgot you've been here longer than I've been alive," Hermione teased back, but instantly regretted it as she heard him huff.
"Thank you for reminding me," he told her grumpily.
"Oh shit! I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."
Severus smirked as she became flustered. "Don't apologise. I guess you can't help falling in love with an old git."
"I haven't fallen in love with an old git...you're not old, and besides you're only as old as the woman you feel," she told him knowingly.
"You're too kind, and I wish I felt your age, but alas. Anyway..." he continued, ready to change the subject as he produced a bottle of champagne and two glasses from what appeared to be thin air.
Hermione looked astonished. "And what warrants this?"
"I don't know. I just had a rather vomit inducing romantic idea that I might like to sit by the lake, drinking champagne with you in the moonlight," he told her feigning disinterest.
A small smile graced the corner of Hermione's lips. "You've had a few of those ideas recently. Are you well?"
"Never felt better," he told her, leaning in to kiss her, but she put her hand on his chest to stop him.
"Of course, Professor Snape, you know you're setting a terrible example consuming alcohol on school grounds?"
"You're drinking it too, Miss Granger, and if I may say you are also engaging in some quite inappropriate behaviour. And with a Slytherin of all people. What would Professor McGonagall say if she found her star Gryffindor half naked with the likes of me?" Severus purred, gently pushing her hand away and leaning in further.
"But I'm not half naked," Hermione protested, looking a little confused.
"Oh, how terribly remiss of me. Please allow me to rectify that," Severus grinned, pressing his lips to hers.
Severus lay on his back looking up at the stars listening to Hermione's worries about what they had discussed with Dumbledore.
"I just can't believe that I'm a powerful witch," she confessed whilst sitting up and pulling her legs into her.
He continued to look up at the celestial display above him. "Why not?"
"Because I just can't." She sighed deeply, resting her chin on her knees.
"Well, whether you believe it or not is irrelevant, because I believe that you are," he told her, pushing himself up and putting his arm around her.
"Yeah, but you're powerful. You exude magic. I've always been aware of how powerful you are," Hermione protested with a blush.
Severus shook his head and lay back down, guiding her to join him.
Pulling her to him, his fingers caressed her hair. "And you don't think I can feel your magic?" he asked softly, before Hermione shrugged against him. "Because I can assure you that I do."
Planting a kiss to the top of her head, he nuzzled into her mass of curls before continuing. "You just have to believe in yourself more. You have a brilliant mind and that is a power in itself. You have extraordinary magical ability. You always have. You must embrace it, let it become your friend, but you must never let it guide you. Don't make the same mistake I did. It nearly killed me..." He went to carry on, but something rose from the depths of his mind to disturb his thoughts.
Sensing that something was amiss, Hermione sat up to look at him. "Sev, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.
He didn't respond, but continued to stare blankly into space.
Kneeling up, Hermione ran her fingers through his hair to get his attention. "Severus?"
Glancing up at his witch, the dark-haired wizard realised that it was time for stupid idea number three.
"I need to go to the shack," he informed her matter-of-factly.
"You what?" Hermione gasped, her eyes widening with surprise.
"You heard. I have no idea why I need to go, but I do. Would you care to accompany me?"
Severus was completely confused by this sudden desire to go to the place where he had nearly died. It held so many terrible memories from his youth and given his latest unfortunate encounter there, he had vowed to himself never visit it again except perhaps to throw a well aimed Incendio at it.
And as they approached the Whomping Willow, Hermione giggled. Putting her arm through his, she told him playfully, "You know, this is where I fell for you."
"I think you'll find, if I remember rightly, that I ended up falling on top of you. And now I love being on top of you," he smirked, pressing the knot which immobilised the naturally violent tree.
As they walked hand in hand through the dark, cobweb festooned connecting tunnel, Hermione felt the tension in Severus' whole body increase. He hesitated when he reached the door, his hand stopping just short of the handle.
Hermione wasn't sure what to say to him so said the one thing that she hoped would help. "I love you."
Turning his head to look at her, his lips twitched into a faint smile before his attention fixed once again on the rickety piece of wood before him. Again, his hand hesitated over the doorknob, but closing his eyes, he turned it and pushed open the door.
The dark, dilapidated room smelled of damp wood and dust and the oppressive gloom was almost palpable as they carefully stepped inside. Wand drawn, Severus led the way and was about to light the torches, but Hermione beat him to it with a small wave of her hand.
The dark-haired wizard looked at his witch in astonishment. "Did you just do that wandlessly?"
"I guess I did. I've always been good with fire..." She'd meant her comment to tease, but her voice trailed off as her eyes were drawn to the unmistakable area, still dark with his blood, where she had held him, comforted him, started to heal him, kissed him and begged him to stay alive. It was also where she first declared her love for him. Not that he knew about the last part because he was unconscious at the time.
Squeezing her hand, Severus began to tease her. "I am well aware of your ability to start fires," he told her, but his voice trailed off too when he noticed where her eyes were focussed.
And then it hit him: everything that had happened on that fateful night struck him in minute, vivid detail. He sank to his knees as wave after wave of his memories crashed over him. Fighting for his next breath, he placed his hands on the floor and allowed his raven-black hair to cover his face and soon to be cried tears.
Looking on helplessly, Hermione was heartbroken to see Severus so overcome. Kneeling beside him she gently stroked his back because whilst he may have been alone with his thoughts, she needed him to know that he was not alone. Kissing his hair, she sat back on her heels before wiping her eyes. Severus wasn't the only one crying.
But whilst he was aware that Hermione was comforting him, Severus was busy inwardly berating himself. Now that he was in the Shrieking Shack, he had no idea what he had been thinking. Why he had to come here was beyond him, but as he had laid by the Black Lake looking up at the stars with his witch, he realised that he couldn't be all that she needed him to be unless he offloaded some of his baggage. He felt that it was time to lay a few demons to rest.
But then he realised that it was even deeper than that. It had crossed his mind briefly as he walked down to the lake. He had to tell her something, and he had to tell her it here. He just didn't expect to become so emotional.
Because the point was, Severus had been prepared to die for the cause...for the light that is...and he had expected that May 2nd 1998 would end up chiselled on his tombstone, if anyone could be arsed to do something like that for him. He'd considered it quite miraculous that given the fact that he had killed Dumbledore and there were more than a few psychopaths amongst Voldemort's band of merry idiots with a grudge who would have happily taken him out, that he was still alive when the Battle of Hogwarts finally took place. So as May 2nd drew on, and realising that he should be slightly grateful that he'd managed to stay breathing for nearly a year longer than expected, he had almost begun to feel that he could walk from this whole mess very much alive. He knew, or at least he hoped, that his memories would prove his innocence when the Aurors came calling, and once he was acquitted, he could escape somewhere...anywhere...to live out his days as ignominiously as possible.
But his brief glimpse of hope was snatched away because of something he hadn't counted on: Voldemort's paranoia regarding the Elder wand and his misunderstanding of events. Severus Snape wasn't some Death Eater being sacrificed for the eternal glory of Voldemort's cause. He was being murdered because Voldemort was a fucking idiot! This wasn't how he'd wanted to die. He wanted to go out in a blaze of...well, if not glory, just a good blaze. He didn't want to die a sad, lonely death. And yet it appeared that he had been consigned to just a death.
That was until his less than dignified passing was interrupted by the Golden Trio. Memories dispensed with, one last look into Lily's eyes and that should have been about it. But then there was Her and her beautiful, warm, sad brown eyes. And then there was her voice, her touch, her comfort, her warmth followed by her tears. And in a moment of searing clarity, he saw everything. She was the glow. She was his reason to keep breathing. She was his reason to live.
But then all he could hear was Nagini coiling up, preparing to strike; he could hear Voldemort's robes; he could hear his voice; he could feel the pain searing in his neck. He wanted to scream as his blood boiled in his veins and his skin stretched, but then he saw a warm glow and what looked like Hermione standing between him and the snake's poison and forcing it away from him.
And then his mind seemed to clear, and he sat back on his heels with a start. With a customary flick of his head to clear the hair from his eyes, he held out his hand to Hermione. As she stepped forward, he pulled her to into him. They held each other in silence for a couple of minutes, Hermione stroking his hair as Severus seemed intent on holding on to her as tightly as possible. As his grip loosened, she knelt down. They found themselves sharing the same burning look they'd experienced on the night she saved him and at his trial. It was as if they were telling each other that everything would be alright.
"Thank you," he whispered, continuing to meet her gaze, tears sliding down his cheeks. It was then that he realised he'd just told her what he needed to say to her.
"What for?" Hermione croaked, fighting back her own tears. She could sense his magic pulsing through him just as he could sense hers.
"For giving me the chance to take another breath. For giving me a reason to keep breathing...for giving me a reason to live," he told her softly, gently pulling her into a kiss.
Her tears rolled down her cheeks and pulling away reluctantly she choked out, "I don't want or need your thanks, Severus. I've got you and that's all I need."
"Well, in that case," he murmured, pulling her closer again, "just kiss me."
Their lips met for a slow, lingering kiss which burnt through both of them. It was connective somehow and Hermione felt as if this was the most meaningful kiss they had shared.
Hermione tangled her fingers through his hair and resting her forehead against his, she whispered, "Come on, you look tired. Let's get back."
"Good idea," Severus purred making Hermione feel slightly weak at the knees.
Melting against him, she told him breathlessly, "God I can't wait for tomorrow."
Severus just raised an eyebrow and enquired nonchalantly, "Oh? Why what's happening tomorrow?"
Slapping his arm, Hermione tried to resist giggling as she chastised him. "Oh shut up and take me to bed."
"If you insist," he smirked, and as their lips met once more, the headmaster Apparated them to his chambers.