A/N: Ugh… back to studying with me.
Beta Love: fluffpanda (sadly she's swamped this week, so all mistakes are my own until she gets back to it!)
Thanks to: hwyla for catching that stuff
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Chapter 3: Like a Boulder Rolling Downhill
When Severus made his way into the Forbidden Forest with Firenze, he wasn't sure what to expect. He felt like a boy of seven, hanging onto his mother's skirt as she dragged him through the grocery store as a child, only his mother was replaced by a palomino centaur, and that centaur was most definitely not wearing a skirt.
It wasn't as though he had never been in the forest before, nor was it the first time he'd ever met centaur, but he wasn't feeling like someone his age told him he should be. He wasn't even sure what a centaur his age would be considered. Asking Firenze how old he really was was only met with a smug smile and a reply, "old than you, brother, by many, many years."
How long was centaur childhood?
As they reached the more secluded and protected area, Severus saw the distinctive silvery-blue petals of the moon flower buds swaying in the breeze. The flowers nickered as they passed, and the wind made the leaves rustle like the pounding of countless small hooves.
"They normally bloom towards late afternoon and night," Firenze said, perhaps following Severus' curious thoughts. "It is rare to see them active during the day."
Severus stared at the flowers thoughtfully.
Firenze nickered softly, pressing his flank to Severus' with a gentle pressure. Severus found himself leaning into it automatically. "Come, brother. Isn't it time you let yourself believe you are meant for more than a lonely existence?"
Severus furrowed his brows, his pale skin seemingly more pale against the shiny black of his mane and fur.
Firenze touched the base of his mane, rubbing it in comfort. "Humans speak of compassion and love for their fellow man, but is far more rare to see it, even in families, the way the centaur see it every day. Once, our people were like you. Worse perhaps. Carnal. Rude. Uncouth.
"We made ourselves drunk, did horrible things, and we held ourselves accountable to none of it. We were the sons of Ixion who lusted after the god-king's wife, Hera while he was a guest at Zeus' table. He failed to control his urges, and he thought he was loving a goddess, but it was not Hera he was joined with. It was Nephele, the cloud nymph, and from her, the first of our people were born. We were the product of lust uncontrolled and my people were no were different. The first of the centaurs were not something to be proud of. We took after our father, shunning our mother's grace in favour of food, wine, and our loins.
"We were hated and feared, for we were born both of man and nymph," Firenze continued, "but Chiron was born of Cronus and Philyra. He was born of a Titan and an Oceanid, one of three thousand some daughters of the Titans Oceanus and Tethys. Unlike the first centaurs, he was immortal and his wisdom and kindness renowned.
"He tried to teach us civility," Firenze explained. "He tried to teach us medicine and prophecy. He tried to bring us honour to our hunts, and precision to our archery so that we left no animal to suffer to feed us, but many us were too wild with the blood of our father. We could not fathom any life but the ones we had.
"When Heracles accidently wounded Chiron with an arrow poisoned by the Hydra's blood, he was doomed to live forever in agony. The gods took pity upon him, and allowed him to die, casting his body to the stars where he watches over us eternal," Firenze said looking upward. "But, before he left the physical world, his blood spilt upon the ground, and from it, sprung the moon flowers. Their sap is the blood of Chiron. Their pollen, when inhaled by my people so long ago, finally brought sanity, wisdom, and civility to a people who had never known it."
Firenze looked thoughtful. "It is said that without Chiron's sacrifice, our people would never have survived, for once, so very long ago, the centaur were only male. Anatolius, one of the first who became civilised, fell in love with human woman named Galene. He courted her, wooed her with poems and talk of the stars, and she did love him as he did her. He longed for her as bulbs under the earth long for spring."
"Humans, her people, her family, and her friends, shunned her for her love. They stoned her, leaving for dead on the edge of their village," Firenze continued. "Anatolius found her, cradled her half-dead body to his, and fled into the forests of his people. He lay her in a bed of moon flowers and wept. It is said, as the moon rose, the flowers bloomed, and the pollen horses danced over her body. Chiron's blood joined with hers. She rose as the first female centaur and became Anatolious' mate. She was the first but not the last. Others joined her, joining our people and making making us stronger.
"That is why we are so driven to protect our females, brother," Firenze said calmly. "They are our future. They are a reminder of a most great sacrifice and love. Most of the centaur of today descend from those ancient lines, but it is the story of the flower that remains strong in our lore. It is why we value them so highly. It is why they are sacred."
Firenze put his hand on Severus' shoulder. "Brother, Chiron has looked down upon you and given you his blessing. You may not believe so right now, but I beg you to give it a chance and see it as the gift it is. It is not just a gift to you, Severus. It is a gift to our people. Our people have our faults, just as any do. We can fight, bicker, and be capable of horrible bias, but we can learn from our mistakes and treasure what we have been given just as much if not more."
Severus relaxed a little to Firenze's touch and nodded silently.
"Thank you, Severus," Firenze said with a smile.
A squeal and chain of happy nickering broke the moment, and a small miniature herd of young colts and fillies stampeded by them. The fillies were tossing garlands of flowers over the colts, and the colts were running as fast as their legs could carry them. The colts carried what looked like bug nets in their hands. Severus had to smile a little that kids would be kids, regardless of species.
Severus saw a group of centaur gathered around the main camp, gesturing and laughing as they exchanged stories. Centaurs he had never seen before walked around with others from the Dark Forest Herd. More foals than usual were gathered in the middle, weaving in and out of their dam's legs as they played with each other but too shy to explore like the older colts and fillies.
Many looked up to see him. Those that he didn't know simply nodded respectfully, but those that knew him as a Hogwarts professor, looked at him with wonder. They approached silently, extending their hands to touch his flanks and back. Many of them whickered and blew soft puffs of air as they gently pet his fur, partly in comfort and partly to confirm that his new body was not an illusion or trick of human magic.
Normally, Severus would have felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny, but each touch was done so reverently that he had no attack of discomfiture. Many of them touched his arms, tracing the ivy-line vines that traced up his arms. The younger were more curious than reverent, blatantly touching the moon flowers with wide eyes. The older asked first, but still traced the petals with gentle traces of their hands.
There was an odd sense of belonging in their touches. Their soft whickers put him at ease in a way self medication and personal meditation could not. It felt natural, but unfamiliar. He admitted that his refound friendship with Minerva and the companionship he had been blessed with thanks to Hermione had made things much better for him, mentally, but the genuine warmth of the herd was a distinct contrast to his past. He no longer held himself blameless in the war of attrition that had been his childhood Hogwarts career, but he had often wondered if things had been different, maybe he might have learned to be someone that didn't inspire curses and accusations of being a greasy-haired dungeon bat git from the student body.
Maybe. The world was filled with a hundred what-ifs, and Severus had no illusions that his past could be easily fixed with wave of a wand and the correct incantation.
What about the chance encounter with a magical flower? The little voice in the back of his head buzzed and he shook his head as if to avoid the noise of a fly.
As the touching and greeting simmered down with Firenze looking on with a warm but smug smile, Severus saw a group of young centaur gathered around. They were giving someone their rapt attention, their ears were perked forward, and their tails were swishing back and forth in excitement. The adults were looking on with some amusement, but neither the Dark Forest Herd nor the visitors seemed overly concerned to what was drawing their foals, fillies, and colts.
As he approached, he recognised Hermione's familiar upper body rising from around the crowd of smaller younglings. Each of the young centaur were carefully weaving a blanket of clover flowers across her back with their hands. The older colts and fillies were showing the foals how to weave the stems together in braids. Light pink, purple, whites, and heliotrope flowers wove together across her back and curled around her equine shoulders and across her breast, giving her the look of wearing a cape.
Sunlight trickled down from the forest canopy, giving Hermione's honey-coloured dun coat a dappled appearance, and now that the sun was on her, he could see the distinctive dark brown stripe down her back with barbs going down the length. It looked as though an ancient chinese ink painting brush had drifted across her back, where the "ink" bled out into her honey-coloured coat. The darkened tips of her ears flicked as she spoke with the younglings, showing far more ease with her condition than he did of himself. Her legs eased in a darker brown and almost black gradation with just the hint of darker stripes near her knees and over her hocks.
She was in teaching mode, he could tell. He'd seen it so many times before. Her eyes held that sort of infinite patience he had always admired. From the very beginning, she had always been a compassionate teacher, far more tolerant of youth and the shenanigans it brought. Severus blamed it on her childhood growing up with Potter and Weasley. Despite her compassion, she took a no-nonsense approach to her teaching. Much like Minerva, Hermione commanded respect without destroying the inherent enthusiasm of youth. Most of the students loved her, and while they did not deny her classes were difficult and challenging, it was rare for the typical student to hate her class. There were always exceptions, of course. Sometimes she ended up with the current generation's version of James Potter and his gang of Marauders. However, where James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter had gotten away with practically murder under Dumbledore's watch, little escaped Hermione's notice. She knew all the hiding places, remembered all the tricks, and, perhaps most importantly, had the complete support of Headmistress McGonagall when it came to punishing troublemakers whose pranks moved from humorous and harmless into dangerous or cruel.
It was amazing how much more was caught and dealt with thanks to McGonagall's trust in her staff. While many of the elder staff had a certain soft spot for Albus Dumbledore, they admitted that Minerva was far more fair. The staff meetings were always a round table, and information was shared freely rather than horded like a dragon's treasure. The Board of Directors had found themselves almost obsolete thanks to Minerva's skill, and many folk had stated that they looked forward to another half a century under her wise and impartial leadership.
As Severus found himself admiring Hermione's attractive coat and markings, a hand touched the base of his mane and startled him.
"She looks natural there, doesn't she?" Magorian said with a warm expression. "She teaches the young and forgets all awkwardness.
Severus blinked and nodded. "She seems to be dealing better than I," Severus said, confessing his awkwardness.
"Nearly two decades she spent amongst us, Severus," Magorian said. "She knows our ways perhaps better than we do, for she absorbed the stories and tales of more than just one herd. She has left her mark upon many herds and they upon her. All of it long before this most current change of situation."
"She always was a sponge for knowledge," Severus said thoughtfully.
"You too, hunger for knowledge, Severus," Magorian said knowingly. "You simply do not dive in forelegs first up to you neck with grand enthusiasm."
Severus snorted.
Magorian laughed. "The foals have always adored her, her teachings, and her stories, only now, they can love upon her properly now that her body matches her heart."
Severus frowned. "Do you… truly believe that?"
Magorian looked at Severus with a slight sadness. "Do you not?"
Severus looked down at his front hooves.
"I must confess to some… doubt," Severus admitted. He watched as the foals were wrapping Hermione's legs with leather wraps and shell and hulls strung together. They made a soft tinkling sound as they clanked together when Hermione stomped her hooves.
"By the time she tries to return to Hogwarts, I fear our younglings will have her decked out in pure centaur fashion," Magorian said with a twitch of his lips. "And what they do not finish, the females of the herds will be more than happy to assist her with the rest."
Already, Severus found his eyes wandering. The centaur were not ashamed of their bodies, and human clothing was hardly practical. They wore more minimal dress to blend into their woodland home. The centaur female was not the modest sort, as comfortable without clothing as the full horse that roamed the wilds. For diplomacy's sake, they minimal cover-ups, but that was more for the human's benefit than a sense of modest self-image.
Hermione's bare back was now exposed, her curly, bushy human hair merged into the longer and straighter strands of mane that tapered down to the stripe that ran along her back. Her bare shoulders hung in a gentle curve as she moved her hands over each of the foals, colts, and fillies. She brushed them with bristle brush as they fussed over her. Each of the young centaurs bumped into each other to get the honour of her brushings, giggling and laughing as she tried to give each of them their equal amount of time.
Her smile was radiant, and Severus realised how much it pleased him to see it on her face. The older centaur had had taken the remains of her teaching robes and cut them in a manner that did not restrict her movement and allow her thick mane to flow freely, yet they were still respectful of Hermione's human modesty. Her arms were bare, save for ornately tooled leather bracers and an armband on each of her upper arms, trimmed in feathers, metal cones, and beads. The vines and flower designs trailed up her arms and seemed as though they belonged there.
The young centaur seemed to have no such qualms about relieving the once-human witch of the remains of her modesty by sneakily gifting her centaur jewelry and clothing to replace most of her human clothing.
Severus snorted to himself as he realised that for each piece of clothing Hermione tried to hold onto, the younger centaurs were replacing it leather and fiber centaur-made accoutrement. Now, Hermione had a leather and fiber halter top to replace her normal tunic and belt. She could, if she wanted, be seen in Wizarding public without causing too much of a fracas, but he had a feeling that those that knew her would do a lot of double taking. She was beautiful and elegant.
"If one of us tried to get her out of her human clothes, she would have been completely embarrassed," Firenze nickered a chuckle. "Leave it to the young to lure her out of her human modesty."
Severus' lips twitched.
A buckskin centaur was walking towards Hermione, shooing the small herd of younglings away from her sides. Some of them dove under her body and hid between her legs like they were her foals, and Hermione laughed as he chased them around with a laugh.
"I am Zoticus of the Loch Lomond Herd, Hermione," Severus heard the other centaur say with a bow of his human torso in combination with his front legs. "Might I rescue you from the foals for a time?"
Hermione laughed warmly and bowed her head to him, dipping her front legs in front of her in the bow she mirrored off of other centaur. "Good afternoon, Zoticus," she greeted. "Have you had your fill of telling great tales with the others?"
Zoticus chuckled. "We are centaurs, Hermione. Our people never tire of great tales. It is in our blood."
Hermione gave him a smile.
"The others tell me that you now teach at Hogwarts," Zoticus said. "The first school of magic to accept both the centaur and the goblin nation's children as students under its roof."
Hermione nodded. "I was once a student there. It seems I cannot escape."
"I remember when you visited our herd years ago," Zoticus said. "You were the first our elders allowed within our borders. You were the first to speak for us and what we desired for our people. There are few who would forget that."
Hermione shook her head. "I am just glad it worked out. The Ministry can be fickle and the temperature can shift like the weather at sea."
Zoticus seemed thoughtful. "There is something I would ask of you Hermione," Zoticus said with a lowering of his head, "if you would humour me."
"You wish me to dive into the surf and check your crab traps?" Hermione jested.
Zoticus sputtered. "Maybe later, but, I would ask you to run with me. Perhaps, you could show me some of the landmarks here."
Hermione eyed the buckskin centaur with curiosity.
He stared back at her, his head curved down as his feet stomped nervously in the forest litter.
"Won't your herd miss you?" Hermione asked, casting a glance to where a group of the foreign centaur were talking together, occasionally lifting their head to stare in their direction with amusement.
"They can live without me for a time," he said cheerfully.
Hermione shook her head. "Very well, I would be glad to show you around, but I think you could pick someone else who would be a far better guide than I."
Zoticus snorted, his hooves dancing on the ground. "I would prefer your company," he said brazenly, "if it pleases you."
Hermione huffed a short puff of air and laughed. "As you wish."
As Hermione and Zoticus walked beside each other on the trail leading out of the encampment, Severus felt a twinge of something in his gut. He told himself that it was nothing and he had no right to object. He had been the one that had repeatedly told her that there would be nothing between them, after all. He was used to being alone.
Why was it, then, that it felt like he was losing Lily all over again?
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The run with Zoticus had been exhilarating, and Hermione found she enjoyed the feeling of the wind across her back and the stretch of her legs as they reached across the ground.
Zoticus had been attentive and intelligent as well as curious as to the human world. There were few opportunities for centaur to travel the human lands, even in the Wizarding world due to their very obvious bodies. The chances of being seen by Muggles was a risk few wanted to take, and the centaur were not accustomed to disillusionment spells as much as they were used to camouflage in the forests. There was far more than two worlds out there— more than just Muggles and Wizarding folk. The Goblin Nation was culture unto itself. The centaur were no different.
Zoticus reminded Hermione of Viktor. He was strong and athletic, but also observant and intelligent under his physical prowess. He was also considerate in a way Ron could have taken lessons from back when they were going to school together.
Idly, she wondered what Viktor would think of her now after her most recent… change. Hell, she wondered what she thought of herself after her most recent change. She slapped her palm into her face.
What had happened? How had things gone so pear shaped?
She wanted to lay down in her comfy bed and sprawl. She couldn't fit in her comfy bed and sprawl. She'd probably break it with her weight, and there was the issue that she doubted it would be comfortable for her lower half. What was she going to do about teaching? Oh, sure, she could walk right in like nothing was going on. Dumbledore was always good about making big things appear like nothing. It wasn't quite Minerva's style, however. Mind you, this was Hogwarts. All secrets were known by everyone within a matter of hours.
That meant Rose probably knew, and it was only a matter of time before Harry and Ron came barging over the hill, wands raised, and knickers in a twist.
Creepy Dark Wizard Ensorcels Co-Professor with Primitive Centaur Magic
That sounded about right for the students of Hogwarts.
Hermione wondered if Rita Skeeter would be in on it.
Post-War "Heroine" Floosey Seduces Ex-Death Eater with Exotic Plant!
Hermione knew that would be more Rita's style. She had never forgiven Hermione for forcing her to write the truth for once in her life. Hermione wasn't even sure if Rita was capable of writing the truth without going into painful convulsions due to sensationalism withdrawal. Somehow, Neville wouldn't even be mentioned, being considered too dull to write about. The plant wouldn't be treated as the sacred plant of the centaur, no. It would be be made into some tampered tool by Hermione's "love sick" delusions.
Hermione shook her head with a half whinny. Part of her wanted to stomp Rita under all four of her new legs. Thing is, she wasn't sure if her once-human self would have been so far behind in that mental process. The woman was like that nasty smelling goo that got stuck on the frog of her hooves.
Hermione paused. Great, now she was actually making comparisons with her centaur anatomy like it was normal. What was normal, anymore? Had anything really been normal since she turned eleven and received that letter from Hogwarts? She was pretty sure she signed away her life to "random acts of magical chaos" when she walked through the front gates.
Hermione sighed. She was going to have to talk to Minerva soon, probably with Severus to save her the trouble of drama twice. Minerva really didn't deserve getting stuck in between all the things she ended up wedge between. There were just too many rocks and hard places. Hogwarts was a castle, after all. Every wall was a hard place.
"Hermione," Severus' voice whickered softly from the shade of the trees, his voice blending with the subtle timbre of his equine voice. He stood there, silently, as he tended to do when he was watching over her. It was something he never stopped doing after her apprenticeship. His voice held the note of both curiosity and concern. There was a reverberation of something else, but Hermione couldn't quite place it.
Hermione turned, flicking one of her back legs as it got caught on a bramble. She stomped and turned around. "Severus," she replied with relief. Despite his new appearance, he was still the most familiar sight she could see, and she felt a surge of warmth upon seeing him.
There was a soft pull towards him, and she trotted over to him in greeting, softly nickering. She sidled up against him, gently leaning into him, and he gave a soft croon, his hands reaching out to touch her arms where the moon flowers and leaves circled her skin.
His face pressed into her hair as he uttered a low nicker. His breath tickled her neck, and she felt far better about her situation. At least she wasn't alone in her trial. It wasn't that she believed herself friendless, or that the centaur's friendliness would wear off, but he had been thrust into the same situation. They had that in common.
A rising instinct told her that it was safe beside him—with him. He was older and more experienced. He was healthy, had four good legs, a fine stature, and a sleek mane and tail...
He seemed to have the same realisation, as his arms slowly enfolded her human torso to his, a sharp intake of breath and a shudder of his body signalling that the drawing was more than just her. The rough texture of his hands brushed against her cheek as he his black eyes moved over her face.
For years they had been dancing around each other. Hermione would attempt to advance, and Severus would shy away from her, pushing her away with dismissive excuses: age, their apprenticeship, his being an ex-Death Eater, age again, and a hundred other "perfectly logical" reasons that had nothing to do with attraction and everything to do with denial.
Harry had long since explained that Snape's past with his mother had left deep wounds that had only started to heal when Harry arrived at Hogwarts and blasted them open and rubbed salt into them. Harry was the spitting image of his father, save the eyes, and in Harry, Severus saw two things that brought him nothing but pain. Now, almost two decades after the fall of Voldemort for the final time, the two could at least speak with each other without getting up in each other's grill, but it had taken years of mediation between the two of them and Hermione in the middle.
"My father was a git, Hermione," Harry had said in explanation. "As a child, I couldn't bear the thought that my parents had flaws. No one wants to believe their parents are capable of such things. Eventually, my dad must have grown out of it. My mother married him, after all. They both… died for me, but they were never allowed closure, Hermione. Just like me, he can only guess what could have happened, had they lived."
"He's not a nice man," Harry had laughed. "Even you have to admit he was a righteous jerk to us, regardless of any underlying reason, but, I understand that you see more to him than most. My mother, she really cared for him once. Surely, after all he's done to protect us, I should at least speak to him without wanting to hex his bits off?"
Hermione had laughed. "You've come a long way, Harry."
The messy-haired wizard had laughed with her. "Just don't tell Ron that we talked," Harry said warily. "He still hasn't forgiven me for going out to tea with Malfoy. I can only imagine what he'd think if he found out I was okay with you apprenticing under Snape and that I actually was okay with you being… friends."
Hermione had arched a brow. "Finally on speaking terms with Draco?"
Harry had snorted. "We work together now. It would be kind of stupid to let an old history get someone killed in the field because we're too busy hating each other for things we can't even remember the real reason for, wouldn't it?"
"I suppose that would be like me grudging Lavender for having a happy life with Ronald," Hermione had answered. "Even if she does make me want to hurl every time she calls him Won-won."
Harry had shuddered. "You and me both, Hermione." He had twisted his face into something akin to pain. "I get to see them during family gatherings."
Hermione had winced in sympathy. "My condolences."
The thought of Draco made Hermione fidget. Part of her irrationally thought that if he called her Mudblood back then, what the hell would he call her now? The rational part of her mind told her that Draco had changed and grown up just as much as the rest of them did. Hell, Severus, Draco, and she had tea every week and had become quite at ease with each other. She had babysat Scorpius for years. Hermione burrowed her face into into his chest and closed her eyes.
As Hermione's nostrils flared and she caught the scent of Severus mixed in with the heavy musk of of something distinctively equine. Overlayed on it were the hints of his favourite tea, the smell of parchment, and the various potion ingredients he never stopped working with, even after she had taken the mantle of Potion Mistress.
Her fingers brushed against Severus' skin, tracing the moon flowers that had grown up his arm. As she touched the area where his Dark Mark once sat, he gave a sharp intake of breath and a low moan. His breath tickled her neck, and his body was warm against hers. His lips brushed against the skin of her cheek and dragged toward her mouth as his breath tickled her moistened lips. Ever so gently, his lips touched hers.
Slowly, tenderly, his mouth covered hers, and she yielded to his touch with a soft cry of wonder, feeling a sort of raw electricity tingle through every nerve and spreading down from her brain to her hooves. It was though she had been waiting for this gentle expression from him all her life, and her heart beat wildly in her chest to the beat of a different gallop.
She brushed his cheek with her fingers as they trailed up into his dark hair. Their kiss was hungry and needful, almost desperate in their mutual flood of repressed desire.
A rustle and snap of foliage caused Severus to stiffen, and he jerked away from her, his eyes wide and face stricken with self-flagellation. "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely. "I shouldn't have… forgive me, He—Ms Granger. This will not happen again." He wheeled on his hind legs and shied backwards.
"Severus, wait," Hermione's call trembled as she tried to gather her thoughts. Her hand reached out and touched his flank. "Please… it was not… unwelcome." Hermione's face pleaded with him to stay. Her mind was whirling with a hundred different things she wanted to say, but couldn't untangle her thoughts any better than she could her extra limbs just after her change.
Severus looked aghast. His face was even paler than usual. There was something raw in his gaze. "You couldn't mean that," Severus said bitterly, denial eating away at his heart.
"Do you really think I would say something I didn't mean, Severus?" Hermione asked in a half whisper. Her voice wavered. Her hand was petting his flank in placation, instinctive but effective.
Severus grimaced, his lips flattening as he took a step towards her and then another. He tilted his head to the side, staring into her face. He saw the pain there, and he flinched, guilt for hurting her warring with the disbelief. He reached out to touch a lock of her curly hair, which, ironically, had become a bit less wild with her transformation, tapering down her back in a longer and straighter cascade the further it traveled.
He gently touched her ears with his fingers, causing her ears to flick from the sensation. Her eyes closed in pleasure as he touched her, and she let out a soft whicker.
Severus let his other hand drop and slowly caress the skin of her arm. Languidly, his head dipped down, and he pressed his mouth to hers once more, and everything else faded into the background.
As his arms wrapped around her torso and pulled her close, neither of them noticed the slight tingle in their hair as a pale moonflower poked out from behind their ears and unfurled, tiny wisps of pollen scattering in the afternoon breeze to the sound of tinkling hooves.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
"Severus! Please!" Hermione's voice was half-broken with an equine squeal of distress.
"It's the flower, don't you see?" Severus hissed. "It's all in our heads because of the flower!"
The black centaur half reared in his anger and frustration. He pulled at the flower behind his ear and shook his head in pain as trying to remove it was akin to ripping off a part of his body. He shook his head frantically, his tail whipping around and hooves stomping.
Hermione tried to approach again, but Severus shied away from her.
"It's the plant!" Severus insisted, keeping her a body's length away from him. "You're not thinking clearly!"
"This isn't a new feeling, Severus!" Hermione pleaded. "The plant hasn't addled my mind!"
"Well, it's addled mine!" Severus yelled at her.
Hermione froze in place, her ears going flat against her head. Her tail stilled. "What are you saying?"
"That is not me, Professor Granger!" Severus insisted, reverting to her title and last name like a shield. "It's not real! I do not… care for you like that!"
"How can you say that after—"
"It was pheromones, some sort of chemical signal brought on by that damnable flower! You can't trust it, Her—Professor Granger!" Snape's voice trembled as his face twisted in a different kind of agony. "I cannot trust it!" His voice was broken, as though saying it made it real, and the reality he was seeing was not positive. "Don't you see?" he whispered brokenly. "I couldn't bear to see the disgust when it wears—" Severus flinched, realising he had said more than he intended.
Hermione trotted up closer in a blur of movement, glaring up into face with both stubbornness and fury. "Severus Tobias Snape," she flung at him. "I am familiar enough in my own mind to know that I have not be unduly influenced by a plant! I care for you! I have cared for you for a long time, now. The only reason I have not told you anymore sooner is that every time I've have tried to even hint us going out and… catching a Muggle dinner and a movie, you back peddle like I'm toxic waste!"
She stared at him as a tear went down her face. "Am I so unattractive? Does the very thought of being with me disgust you so much that you think the only way you could is because of a plant?" She gestured to her body as her eyes flicked across his face. "We've been friends for longer than we were teacher and student. We've been colleagues for longer than that. Can you not be honest with me? Have I imagined that you enjoy my company?"
Severus looked into her eyes, his black irises wavered with emotion he hadn't managed to Occlude. "I can't," he whispered, his fists clenching to stop himself from touching her. "Don't you see? If you let me have you—I will never be able to let you go. It would break me. I am already broken. I wouldn't survive it. I wouldn't—"
Hermione arms were around his waist, slamming herself into him and burrowing her face into his chest as her hands wove into his mane and clung to him tightly. "Severus, you big dunderhead," she muttered into his sternum.
Severus shuddered as her arms tightened around him, and he pressed his face into her hair. His arms slowly enfolded her as he let out a ragged breath, his body trembling as he crushed her to him. "I'm sorry." His hand touched the back of her hair and pulled her head under his chin. "You deserve better than me."
Hermione tucked herself against him. Her hand brushed the side of his face as her fingers curled around his ear, brushing against the moon flower behind it. She tugged on the flower and pulled his head down. "Stop talking," she said as stared into his face. "Stop thinking."
Severus' dark eyes flickered with emotion. "Bossy witch."
"You're still talk—mmmph," Hermione replied, cut off by the descent of Severus' mouth to hers.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Deeper in the forest, Magorian and Firenze stood around a shelter they were constructing in the encampment. They stopped the small herd of younglings from tromping down the path.
"Ho there, younglings," Magorian chuckled. "Why don't you go and collect beetles wing coverletss for our honoured guests. This time of year their colour will be vibrant and they will be trying to eat our crops with a vengeance."
"Yes, Magorian!" the young centaur laughed, grabbing their nets excitedly.
Bane stomped a hoof as he heaved a part of the shelter up on one side, and one of the visiting centaur grabbed the other end to help him.
"How did you know we were running low on fishing lures?" the visiting centaur asked.
Bane gave a snort. "Every year we check our stores around this time of year. It's not a big leap for us to make."
"I suppose not," the other centaur said, tying the beam in place and dragging the covering over it. "How do you feel about being one of the first herds to have foals going to school with the humans?"
Magorian sighed as he tied the supports together and stared towards Hogwarts, even though the castle was not visible from deep within the forest. "There was a time, Janus, where I would have led my people to their deaths before thinking such a thing possible, but Hermione challenged the system for our sake, giving us the rights we were denied for centuries. She slept under the stars with our herd, learned our ways, and respected them, all while others before her were simply happy we didn't go to war on sight. Now are forests are our own to police, our larders are full, and we don't have to worry about our foals running into that next of acromantulas anymore."
"Acromantulas?" Janus snorted. "You have giant tropical spiders in your forest?"
Bane curled his lip. "A long story, Janus," he grunted. "Needless to say, when that side of the forest went up in flames, it was not only the centaur that breathed a sigh of relief."
Firenze shook his mane. "Hagrid would have put the fire out himself with tears, if you can imagine a half-giant crying over the 'tragedy' of it all."
Janus swished his tail. "Does this half-giant live in the forest as well?"
"He does not live in the forest," Bane said bitterly. "He inflicts his projects upon it."
Janus tilted his head. "Forgive me, I have no idea what you speak of."
Magorian placed a hand on Bane's withers, causing the centaur to calm slightly. "Hagrid is a half-giant professor at the school, Janus. He has projects that range from highly dangerous animals, magical creatures, and… personal taming projects."
"He set loose a giant into our forest, tying it to a bloody tree!" Bane seethed. "The giant crushed the leg of one of our colts who was collecting herbs on the trail and traumatised the other three that were with him so badly that they couldn't do anything but squeal in terror every time shadows moved in the forest for months!"
"A giant? Truly?" Janus' eyes went wide. "This is not the home of any clan of giants I know of."
"I fear that is the trend for most of his projects, Janus," Firenze said with a shake of his head. "They are all well meaning in his own mind, but they threaten not only us here in the forest but the foals at the school."
"Zoticus told me that Hermione's history as both scholar and warrior was greater than she ever let on when she visited us," Janus said. "Is it because of this… Hagrid?"
"No, I fear Hagrid's little projects are unique unto themselves," Magorian said with a huff of air, "but, I would be lying if I said she was not affected by them, as all of us have been. Both she and Severus bear many scars of the war, as did many who took part. The centaur were were not the only ones to suffer."
Janus nodded as a small miniature herd of younglings went stampeding past, their nets out as they chased their beetle targets. "We're going to up to our waist in beetle wing covers."
Bane laughed. "Well, if any of your foals botch fly tying like Silverhoof over there," Bane said with a gesture to the Appaloosa colt in the bunch, "then you will need extras."
Janus sputtered. "We do have a few that have not grasped the subtlety, but they tend to jump feet first into the river like a bear after a salmon."
Firenze looked amused. "Do they catch the salmon?"
"Right to the face, like a proper bear," Janus confessed.
"Well, at least they have that sorted," Bane snickered, patting Janus on the withers.
The other centaur shook his head and whickered.
At that moment, Hermione came cantering through the encampment, and a trail of young foals, colts, and fillies were latched onto her, with the youngest trying to stay at her side like she was their dam. The slightly older ones had her by the hands as they dragged her off into another part of the woods, all of them chiming in to things they wanted to show her.
"I'm only one person!" Hermione squealed, her ears flicking back and forth as she was pulled in multiple directions.
Severus walked in a more dignified fashion, obviously relieved that he did not have an entourage of young centaur clinging to his body. He gazed off to where Hermione disappeared into the forest with a strange expression on his face.
"Why are you not over there with your mate, brother?" Bane asked with amusement. He crossed his arms in front of his chest with a very human expression of gratification on his face.
"My… what?!" Severus jerked his head up, his ears flattening against his head. "No! She's not my mate!"
"I beg to differ," Bane ribbed him. "Her scent is all over you."
The other centaur looked at Severus like he was the worst liar ever.
Severus flushed, realising that Occlumency was great for the mind, but not so good for the scent. He suddenly found himself very glad that Voldemort was against "half-breeds," otherwise his tenure as a spy would have been caught the moment he smelled the lie. "We are not mates," Severus tried again.
Bane put his arm around Severus' shoulder, and shook his head. Strangely, Severus found it comforting, which surprised himself.
"The flower calls you a liar, brother," Bane said after a moment, jutting his chin at the flower in Severus' black hair. "Does she have to be heavy with foal before you stop lying to yourself?"
"What!" Severus sputtered.
"You'd think he'd remember doing that, Bane," Firenze quipped as she pulled the last of the shelter cover over the frame he was finishing. "it does take a certain amount of mutual acrobatics."
Severus turned a bright shade of crimson in contrast to his pale skin.
"Do not be embarrassed, Severus," Magorian chuckled. "You are a fine stallion. You have a sharp mind, four strong legs, a thick mane and tail, and a shiny coat of health. If our herd's mares hadn't already been mated, you'd probably have had multiple 'dates' and offers of companionship by now."
Severus paled in something akin to fear at the very thought of being pursued as a 'good catch'.
Firenze patted Severus on the withers and smiled. "It is as they say, my brother. Fortunately, all of the unmated mares have been paired off before now, which spared you the further embarrassment. I had been worried that this was not the case, but it seems nature was in a hurry while we had business at Hogwarts."
Severus managed to look uncomfortable, or, rather, more uncomfortable.
"Speaking of Hogwarts," Firenze said, bowing to Magorian in a dip of his front legs. "I must confess that I knew nothing of Professor Longbottom's work with the moon flower, Magorian. He said his only thought was the cure of his sire and dam."
Bane stiffened at being reminded that Neville had "stolen" moon flowers from the heavily centaur-lived areas of the forest, though whether it was the theft or the fact he had done it without any of them noticing that was bothering him was unknown.
Magorian looked thoughtful. "The human does not know our ways, not like Hermione made a point to learn, nor was he like Severus who learned simply by accompanying her into the herd lands. I know his like, much like Pomona Sprout who came into the forest for cuttings and plants. Pomona, however, at least asked us before taking. She was always polite and respectful."
The elder centaur flattened his lips together and stomped his front legs. "He has not infringed upon us until this point, so I would speak with him and hear his story. He is not the only one of this world who has ever wished to cure a loved one of sickness. If you would, Firenze, I would have you take a message to your human colleague. Tell him we must meet for a discussion a week's time. If he does not, however, I will consider his actions an intentional disrespect."
Firenze nodded. "As you wish, Magorian. It will be done."
Severus seemed to realise another question had to be asked. He dipped himself down on his front legs and bowed. "Magorian, I and Hermione were analysing the pollen and sap for Professor Longbottom. What would you wish of us?"
Magorian rubbed his chin with his fingers, thoughtfully. "You may continue your analysis, Severus. If the plant somehow can help heal the mind of a human, then I will not deny him that cure. My only request is that if such a cure comes to pass that it not become something that has scores of humans invading centaur territories on a mad hunt for the flowers. I cannot condone anything that will endanger our people, especially the vulnerable foals. Is this agreeable to you?"
Severus nodded. "It is fair, however, perhaps it would be better for you to request this of Longbottom rather than I. He and I have a… poor working history."
Firenze chuckled. "He means that, Magorian. They are like the north winds meeting the south and creating a twister."
Severus pinned his ears to the side but nodded with a sigh. "Fair enough."
Magorian shook his head. "As you wish. I will discuss it with him."
Magorian huffed a puff of air and then shook his head as a more cheerful demeanor settled back upon his countenance. "Off the record, his actions have reminded us of the gift the flower has always been said to give, and it was time, perhaps, for us to remember such things. The news will spread far and wide once our honoured guests leave us to return to their territories."
A blood-curdling scream pierced the grove, and the centaur mares whinnied in distress, calling their foals to them as they herded them away. The young centaurs around Hermione glued themselves to Hermione as the youngest dove between her legs, and Hermione had her wand out even as other centaurs gathered around her, helping herd the young back towards their alarmed dams and sires.
Severus was immediately by Hermione's side, pressing up against her flank as Firenze pressed up against her other side. Magorian and Bane pushed up like the forward guard, blazing forth with arrows notched on their bows.
The small group of young centaur that had gone out to gather fly-tying materials, cantered by Magorian and Bane, whinnying in distress. They made a bee-line towards the other centaur, pressing up against them as they fidgeted.
"A human!" one of the colts exclaimed.
"It turned into a human!" a filly replied.
Hermione and Severus exchanged glances. They advanced forward together, Firenze with his bow drawn and they with their wands.
Magorian and Bane had their bows drawn back and pointed to the ground where someone or something was writhing on the ground, moaning piteously. As they approached they saw tight blond curls, a gathering of ornate feathers around the collar that was drawn into a choker, and gaudy, painted nails dug into their sides as they moaned.
Blood trickled down mangled clothes as the victim lay in the scattered collection baskets of brightly coloured beetle wing covers the young centaur had been gathering. The robbed beetles, however, were not lasting long, as a number of hungry birds had gathered to cash in on the free meals provided by the youngling's hard work.
Hermione pointed her wand down towards the moaning victim's face, using the tip of her wand to move the blond hair to the side. She snorted in surprise, practically falling over herself to back up a few paces.
Severus looked down, and his eyes widened as he recognised the somewhat older but distinctive face of Rita Skeeter.
Of course, the young centaur had been harvesting beetles, and she had been just another shiny beetle with perfectly useable coverlets. Perhaps, she might have been able to crawl away, humiliated and wingless, but alive, had it not been for the group of hungry birds that all too eagerly descended on her after one of the young centaur had cast her body aside.
Rita Skeeter was convulsing for quite some time before something seemed to break. The Daily Prophet reporter stared fearfully at them, her eyes moving frantically, but her body now terribly still. Blood continued to ooze out her mangled back.
"We will take her to St. Mungo's," Severus said as Hermione was already lowering herself down to place her hands on Rita's arm to side-along Apparate her. Severus waved his wand, and a silvery doe leapt from his wand and bounded towards Hogwarts.
Hermione and Rita disappeared with a loud crack, and Severus disapparated shorted after with an echoing crack.
"I suppose the secret is going to be out, now," Magorian said, relaxing his bow arm. "Whether they are ready for it or not."
Firenze and Bane exchanged worried glances.
"I do not imagine either of them having wished to come out as centaur like this," Firenze said.
Janus and Zoticus came up with a few other of the herd members, having insured that the young were safely led away with the rest of the joined herds. "Magorian?" they chimed together, their bows primed for instant use. They relaxed when they noted that Magorian and his comrades were not ready to attack. "What happened? The colt said he was just collecting wing coverlets from the beetles and threw the rest to the birds when it turned into a screaming woman?"
"Animagus," Firenze said.
Zoticus frowned. "The human turned itself into an insect? I thought they could only be animals."
Magorian narrowed his eyes. "Time to move our camp. There is no telling what the human saw or heard while she was here or what her agenda was. We should not risk the foals or our combined people to unknown risk."
"I will tell the others," Zoticus said, wheeling around on his rear legs and trotting back the way he came.
Firenze fidgeted, tail swishing.
Bane touched the base of Firenze's mane and blew out a puff of air in a huff. "They will be fine. Severus is a survivor, Hermione is tenacious, and neither are the type to let their new condition keep them from doing the right thing. They will not expose us to more danger if they can help it. If anything I have learned from my own stubborn past is that they will do the best they can to save both centaur and human alike."
Firenze gave a small, grim smile. "It is not them I worry for, herd-brother. It's the humans at the other end of the Apparate."
-o-o-o-o-o-
There was a flurry of movement and some screams of surprise as Hermione and Severus Apparated into St Mungo's. Hermione stood back on all fours from her crouch to pull Rita's body with her through the Apparition.
"I need a healer here!" Hermione yelled. "Back injury and lacerations!" she elaborated, pulling from the knowledge of hearing Poppy Pomfrey speak to her fellow nurses in the Hogwarts' hospital wing.
Healers dressed in the deep green designating their healer positions came flying out of the various crannies of the Apparition Point, hurrying to bring Rita's body off the area before another Apparition came into the public landing.
The healers came right up, ignoring Hermione's appearance in favour of the patient, and by the time Severus landed in the Apparition point, another healer in darker green robes and a silver lead healer pin came rushing up to speak with her.
"What happened Ms… er… Hermione Granger isn't it?" the healer had to look up at her due to her increased height. "It's me, Healer Oswald. I've handled some of the students you've brought in from Hogwarts for special therapy a few occasions, if you remember me?"
"Of course, Healer Oswald," Hermione answered, her hooves prancing on the marble floor with a bell-like tone.
People were gathering and whispering loudly, pointing to Hermione and staring, seemingly more interested in her appearance than Rita being hoovered out another room. Severus scowled, pulling out the face he normally reserved for Neville Longbottom, and the crowd gasped and parted, darting behind pillars to peek around it occasionally.
"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, I have a private room we can speak," Oswald said. "You can tell me what happened?"
Hermione nodded gratefully, feeling Severus's warm flank against hers as he glowered at the staring crowd.
"This way, Professor Granger," the healer said with a holding out of his arm. "Follow me."
The two centaur dwarfed the healer as they followed him, and he had to expand the door to fit the two half-equine bodies through the normal human-sized doors. He pulled the doors closed behind them and pulled the blinds, shutting out the prying eyes, narrowing his eyes as people were trying to sneak up and get more looks at the two rather unique guests to the hospital.
"If you don't mind me asking, Professor Granger," Oswald said awkwardly. "The last time you were here, I distinctly recall you not having quite so many legs. Did something happen?"
Hermione snorted, her ears flicking. "Two words, Healer Oswald."
"Neville Longbottom," Severus sneered. He kept his body against Hermione's.
"Ah, yes," Oswald said. "I've treated a few of his students that got a little too close to the frisky venomous tentacula when Poppy sent them over. He and his co-Aurors used to be in here once a week for some ailment or another. You'd think he was Hit Wizard with the frequency we see him."
Hermione harrumphed and nodded.
"Can you tell me what caused the injuries of the woman you brought in?" Oswald asked.
Hermione exchanged glances with Severus, and he leaned closer to her silently. "She was in a beetle Animagus form, spying on the centaur when it happened. I didn't see it, but the children were collecting the wing coverlets to make fishing flies and she was hiding with with the other beetles, or so I'm guessing. One of the… children dewinged her and tossed her to the birds, thinking her a normal beetle, and I think the birds snapped her up before she could transform back. By the time she did, it was too late. The damage had been done."
"She's an Animagus?" Oswald said. "More paperwork, I fear. The Registry is always informed on incidents involving Animagi when they don't bear the pin of the Registry."
Hermione nodded grimly.
"Do you have her name, Professor Granger?" Oswald asked.
"Please, call me Hermione," Hermione asked. "I get enough of that from my students. As for her name, it is Rita Skeeter."
"Merlin, that was her?" Oswald paled. "I will admit I was looking at her wounds instead of her face, and please, call me Bryan, Hermione. We've seen each other enough to warrant a little casual courtesy."
Hermione smiled and nodded affirmative.
Bryan waved his wand, and a bright magpie Patronus zoomed out of the room with its message to the other healers.
"Well, now that the business it taken care of," Bryan said with a sigh. "May I ask you about how you came to… end up like this?"
"I fear as with anything Neville Longbottom," Severus said with a curl of his lip, "he can cause transformations and time travel without intending to. Once he had the entire school acting like they were under the influence of Amortentia, and I guarantee you finding the cure took far longer than it took him to randomly make it. He sent a lab partner back in time a three months deaged into a toddler. It took Headmaster Dumbledore a month to restore her back to normal and the rest of the next few months to get her to stop randomly transforming into whatever non-human animal she was in the morning upon waking up."
Oswald looked mortified. "That does explain some of the frantic Patroni I get from Poppy from time to time. She always asked for the oddest opinions of transfiguration and potion therapy dose effects. She has always been good about getting second opinions before doing something drastic. Now, I know why."
Severus rolled his eyes. "I could write you a novel."
Oswald looked like he was about to bust with curiosity. 'Hermione, I am not normally this forward, but, I have never been able to examine a centaur up close. Even if this is temporary, do you mind if I—?"
Hermione whickered softly. "Go ahead, Bryan. I can practically smell the curiosity leaking out your ears."
Bryan flushed and began to look Hermione over. He waved his wand over her, ran his hands over her body. He picked up her hooves, checked her skin, picked through her mane, and even examined inside her ears and mouth. He gasped as she saw the elongated canines in her mouth and the elongated claws on her hands. "Amazing, Hermione. "Never in my life did I think I'd see a centaur up close.
Severus, who was eyeing the healer with a guarded expression, kept his hand on Hermione's withers, gently rubbing the base of her mane.
"What a fascinating design," Oswald noted, tracing the flower vines up her arms. "I've never seen such lifelike ink. It moves like there is a breeze. I almost expect it to emerge from your skin. Whatever it is he did to bring this about, it is amazing."
Severus shook his head. "If you ever feel like undergoing some random transformation or have the unexplainable need to snog everyone around you, Healer Oswald, by all means, visit Mr Longbottom more regularly. In fact, by all means, invite him here as often as you wish. I beg you."
"Severus," Hermione huffed, nudging into him with her equine shoulder.
The black centaur gave an equine grunt, but Oswald gave a genuine laugh. "I fear I must fill out that paperwork for Ms Skeeter's admission to the hospital. The Aurors must be informed so they can insure no Dark magic was involved, the Registry needs to be notified, and all that. Thank you both for bringing her in. I'm sure your current predicament could have had you question the wisdom of exposing yourself to the crocodiles out there." He gestured to the hall with his hand. He seemed to think of something. "If you wish, I can lead you to the private Apparition area, if you wish to leave less conspicuously. It is the Healer area, so normally no one but the staff uses it to come and go."
"Thank you, Bryan," Hermione said warmly. "I appreciate your consideration."
The healer nodded with a happy smile. "No problem at all. Thank you for allowing me to examine you."
Hermione quirked the corner of her lips. "Healers are as curious as cats. Trust me, I know both."
Healer Oswald gave her a warm grin as he took her hand. "We'll take care of Ms Skeeter, no worries. I fear I cannot notify you as to her condition due to privacy concerns, but she will be in good hands here."
The two centaur nodded and allowed him to guide them to the private Apparition point, happy that the Healer took his Oath very seriously. Centaur or not, the man valued all life, even that of Rita Skeeter, who was may or may not have been deserving of such respect.
As the dual crack of Disapparition resounded in the empty hospital area, Healer Oswald turned on his heels and disappeared down the hall to face the mountain of paperwork that was undoubtedly waiting for him.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Heroic Hogwarts' Professors Turned into Centaur By Botched Magic Save Reporter and Illegal Animagus Rita Skeeter From Certain Death
Odd things have been happening recently, and it seems that it's either in the water or in the air.
Two well-known professors at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry have been turned into centaur thanks to a botched potion mishap. Rumour has it that Professor Longbottom was involved, but he was unavailable for an interview.
Professors Hermione Granger and Severus Snape have been transformed into centaur do to the latest accident at Hogwarts, which was, ironically, not caused by a student bungle. A number of students interviewed stated that the last time Professor Longbottom was let in the Potions classroom, Professor Snape had banned him from setting foot within 100 feet of the Potion Classroom, lest something terrible happen due to his general vicinity.
Headmistress Minerva McGonagall assures the public that despite their changed appearance, both professors are completely in command of their faculties and that classes will resume on Monday without delay. She stated that there would be some change in the doorways, quarters, and eating spaces due to their increased size accommodations, but it is nothing unsurmountable to fix in a short period of time.
In other news, our very own reporter, Rita Skeeter, has been hospitalised with severe spinal injuries due to being predated upon while traveling around in her unregistered and illegal Animagus form in the forests surrounding Hogwarts. Fortunately, Professors Granger and Snape from Hogwarts were nearby to offer assistance, Apparating the injured reporter to St Mungos before she succumbed to her injuries.
Skeeter, who was found in a restricted area of the Dark Forest that is only travelled freely by certain staff of Hogwarts and the resident centaur, had not only been using her Animagus form to circumvent the gates of Hogwarts but also managed to rile up the local herd of Centaur who have always valued their privacy.
The Animagus Register cautions wizards and witches that it is because of the inherent dangers of taking an animal form that learning the skill without supervision can be dangerous in many ways. Being caught by an animal form's natural predators is only one danger of many.
Skeeter's Animagus form, which is reported as a shiny blue beetle with spectacle markings, had caused an uproar of reports from indignant witches and wizards who have seen the very same beetle from every place such as private meetings at the Ministry to in their private residences. Questions regarding her illegal use of her form to invade the privacy of their lives, homes, and workplace have flooded both the Auror's Offices and the Animagus Registry with complaints and demands for justice.
Mr Harry Potter, Supervising Head Auror, stated that Rita's case was being taken very seriously.
"There is nothing wrong with being an Animagus," Mr Potter said in an interview. "I know quite a few people who are Animagi. The problem in this case, however, is that she's both unregistered and using her form to invade privacy as well as for spying. This is the kind of thing that ruins the game for perfectly decent people who follow the rules."
Charges have been brought up against Ms Skeeter from multiple parties on top of the main charges of being an illegal Animagus who purposely did not register. Accounts are being taken as to how far back the transformations and spying goes back, and penalties for trespass, spying on Ministry/Auror secrets, invasion of privacy, and unlawful gain of information are only the surface of what will undoubtedly lead to time in Azkaban and even longer time in community service.
Each confirmed case of Ministry and Auror secrets spying starts with five years in Azkaban per incident. While the tally has not been officially totalled, Ms Skeeter is looking at over a thousand years of time served, if all of the cases being reported from the public are confirmed. There are countless more being tallied at the Auror Office and the Ministry in secret due to the sensitivity of the information.
Whether kharma or irony, Skeeter's injuries have proven dire enough that regenerative therapy is not working.
"Skele-grow can replace bones," Healer Randle said, "but nerves are an entirely different sort of business. Some of the magical species are capable of regeneration naturally, but the normal human body was not meant to lose parts of your spine and survive."
Rita Skeeter's career until now has been filled with both excitement and controversy. Her biographies of two Headmasters of Hogwarts, Armando Dippet and Albus Dumbledore were so full of stretched truth and outright lies that the type of journalism she preferred has been dubbed "doing a Rita Skeeter." A green auto-quill has been released on the market by Weasley Wizarding Wheezes called the "Skeeter" which writes only things so outrageous that no sane person would ever consider it truth.
George Weasley, proprietor of the business, says that half of all proceeds sold of the "Skeeter Quill" will be donated to St Mungo's Research Fund for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Ironically, Rita Skeeter has been isolated in a section of St Mungo's that deals with physical injuries not caused by magic.
-o-o-o-o-o-
A/N: Oh, hrm… someone was sticking her antennae in the wrong place. I don't imagine Rita is going to be in any condition to snoop after this, even with healers. Do I have a problem with Rita? Probably. She's not quite as horrible as Umbridge, but I rate her pretty horribly close.