And so here we are with the long-awaited Chapter Twelve. And trust me, as a writer who also reads other fics and is disappointed when the stories I'm reading aren't updated, I know how frustrating this has been for some of you, and I hate that. So I have been awaiting Chapter Twelve with greater frustration than any of you.
Disclaimer: So how many different ways do you think I can come up with to say that I'm not JK Rowling and Harry Potter & Co is not my intellectual property? Believe me, if I were, and it was, that whole bit about my worries and hang-ups and "What am I doing with my life?" wouldn't be a thing. But I'm not her, and it's not mine, so there we are.
For whatever readers I have left, here you go.
Chapter Twelve
Hermione paled, Carlisle went still, and Paul began to shake. Even with the bonding he'd done earlier with Luna's unborn baby – babies? – he remembered seeing through Jake's eyes the trouble Bella had gone through. The thought of his mate suffering the same, or worse, was a thought he couldn't bear, and he found himself almost wishing Hermione hadn't already killed the vampire who'd raped Luna just so that he might tear the leech apart with his own teeth.
Carlisle saw Paul's shaking worsen, and knew immediately what it meant. He wasn't sure if the three witches did or not. "He needs to get outside, right now," he said urgently. "He's about to lose it and shift in here."
Hermione's head snapped around to look at Paul. "Paul!" she exclaimed. He showed no signs of recognizing that she'd addressed him.
Hermione knew that if Paul lost control over the wolf shape, he could kill Luna. He was too close. She made a split second decision, and moved before anyone else could. She grasped Paul's forearm and twisted on the spot.
Carlisle realized what Hermione was about to do and moved to stop her, knowing she wouldn't be any better off than Luna and that he of anyone in the room stood the best chance of getting Paul outside safely, but she was gone before he could reach her, and had taken Paul with her.
"Fuck!" he exclaimed. He turned to Madam Pomfrey. "I'll keep an eye on Luna. You'd better get out there and make sure Hermione isn't hurt."
"But why?" the nurse asked him, worried.
"No time to explain, just go!" As the nurse turned on the spot and vanished just as Hermione and Paul had, Carlisle turned to Luna, who was trying to get out of the chair. "No, Luna, you need to stay here. I won't have you risking your safety. Hermione, Mr. Snape, and Paul would all have my head if you did. I promise everything will be fine. Let me just tell Edward to tell Sam and Mr. Snape, and they'll sort it out. Just stay here with me." Even as he spoke he could hear the snarling outside, followed by a scream.
Downstairs in the living room, Sam was already moving toward the back door. For once, he beat Snape outside, simply because he'd heard when the nurse had said Luna would be having twins and when Carlisle had said that Paul needed to go outside right away, while the wizard with his human ears had heard none of it. But when they heard the now-familiar crack of people disappearing and reappearing in an instant from upstairs, followed momentarily by another crack, a snarl, and a scream, all hell broke loose.
Sam ripped the back door off its hinges in his haste to get outside, while behind him, Snape disappeared with another crack and a swirl of black. The sight that met Sam's eyes made his blood run cold.
The sight of the enormous gray wolf in a rage wasn't a surprise to the Alpha. But the shock of red marring the perfect white fur of the belly of the female growling him down was.
The black wolf exploded from the back porch, leaving behind scraps of shredded clothing. The russet-colored Beta leapt off the porch just steps behind him, having phased on the fly. Moving almost as one entity they barreled toward the raging gray wolf; the black tackled him, knocking him away from the red-stained white female, and even as both the black and the gray rolled back onto their feet, the russet-colored male was sweeping the gray off into the woods, where he managed to goad the gray into chasing him, thereby allowing him to focus the rage and work it off so that he'd be able to concentrate enough to phase back.
Meanwhile, the Alpha reached his injured mate, who was still standing in the spot where she'd been facing off with Paul. She was panting, her sides heaving like a bellows, seemingly unaware that Paul had managed to open up her belly like a lab specimen under a dissecting scalpel. When Sam reached her she lowered her tail and touched her nose to his, licking his muzzle in greeting and deference.
He washed her face with his tongue, whining low in pleading. And all the while Sam the man was coaxing Hermione the witch to release her grip on the wolf form and shift back so that she could be seen to.
From the porch both Madam Pomfrey and Severus – along with everyone else from the living room, who had by now come out to see what was going on – watched as the two wolves appeared to calm each other down. Half of them let out an exclamation as the white wolf's legs appeared to give out on her and she collapsed onto her side. Whimpering, the black wolf followed her.
Their audience watched, hearts in their throats – hypothetically, anyway – as finally, the two wolves melted away, leaving behind two humans, one clothed and one naked, who very carefully moved the witch until she lay on her back, and then arranged himself beneath her so that she reclined between his legs, her upper body supported by his rather than lying flat on her back. Then he looked up toward the porch, and both Madam Pomfrey and Snape moved toward them.
They knelt on either side of the younger witch, and Madam Pomfrey, murmuring reassurances the entire time to both the injured witch and the very concerned shape-shifter holding her, very carefully peeled the tattered remains of the bodice of the girl's dress away from her belly. Three long diagonal gashes ran from just beneath her right breast across and down to the left side of her waist, forming an almost perfect ninety degree angle with the long, jagged scar that ran from above her left breast down to just above her right hip. The sight caused Sam to shudder, making both the older witch and the wizard look at him sharply, but he simply pressed his lips to his mate's temple, letting the feel of her strong pulse thrumming through his lips calm him.
"Severus," Madam Pomfrey said to the wizard. "I need essence of dittany and a blood replenishing potion. And a pain reliever wouldn't go amiss, either. Luckily, claw marks from a wolf will be a much simpler fix than a bite from a snake, even one that's not magical as Nagini was. Bacteria is much easier to deal with than magical venom."
The wizard nodded and produced all three potions from deep within the pockets of his robes. The witch then addressed Hermione.
"I'm going to wash the gashes with water spelled with blood-clotting and antiseptic properties. The antiseptic charm won't sting in and of itself, but the water touching the wound will sting a little no matter how gentle it is. Brace yourself. I suggest you hold onto your young man there. Keep him anchored as well," she said, and the young woman nodded. She grasped Sam's hands tightly.
The nurse waved her wand, and an instant later a gentle stream of lukewarm water flowed from the tip. Hermione sucked a breath in through her nose and tensed a little, but made sure to keep her reaction tempered so as not to distress Sam any further.
The blood washed away quickly, leaving the gashes clean and dry, still angry and red though they no longer bled. Next came the dittany, applied in three drops along the lines of each gash – one drop toward the top end of each gash, one in the middle of each, and one at the lower end of each. Sam watched in amazement as the three lines sealed shut, as if an invisible zipper were running along the length of each gash. When they were sealed, all that was left were three thin red scars.
Madam Pomfrey then had Hermione drink the contents of the remaining two vials, starting with a blue bottle containing a thick liquid the color of red wine – the blood replenisher – and following that with a clear bottle containing a clear liquid that upon closer inspection held the faintest traces of purple – the pain reliever.
The effects were almost instant – Sam could feel the tension leave Hermione's body. When she made to get up, however, both Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape stopped her.
"Don't move just yet, dear," said the nurse. "I still need to bandage you up – those gashes will still be tender, and the skin is still fragile. Without binding the wrong move could open them back up."
Reluctantly, Hermione settled back down and waited while Madam Pomfrey banished Professor Snape back inside the house with an entreaty to convince the vampires to do the same. At his questioning quirk of his eyebrow, she rolled her eyes.
"Did you think I was going to bind her without cutting off the remains of her dress? Honestly, Severus, allow the girl some privacy."
Sam was amazed to see the faintest traces of pink tingeing the man's cheeks. He stood and swept back toward the house without a word, pausing on the porch only long enough to address the vampires. "Show's over. Everyone back inside. They'll be in in a moment."
No one argued.
When they were gone, Madam Pomfrey turned her attention back to her patient. "Now," she said, addressing Sam. "Since experience with your friend tells me you won't let me see to my patient without your presence, I will simply tell you that for this, you will avert your eyes, young man."
He obeyed, closing his eyes tightly as she raised her wand. Moments later, she said, "All right, you can open your eyes again."
He did so and looked down to see Hermione garbed in what looked like a clean version of the dress she'd been wearing a minute ago. To his surprise, he realized that he was also clothed, once more in a plain black tee-shirt and blue jeans. To his even greater surprise, he was also wearing shoes, a pair of sturdy leather hiking shoes.
"Now, be careful getting up, Miss Granger. Help her, young man. Easy does it now, that's the ticket," the nurse coached as Sam adjusted his hold on Hermione until he held her bridal-style, lifting her as easily as he would a doll as he got to his feet.
Once Sam had gotten to his feet, Hermione expected him to put her down and so was surprised when he began to walk back toward the house, still carrying her.
"You can put me down, Sam. I can walk," she told him.
"Please," was all he said as he tightened his hold on her. Looking up at his face, she saw the traces of fear lingering in the shadows of his gaze and in the faint tightness in the lines of his mouth.
She almost protested, but some urge she couldn't explain made her consider for a moment how she'd be reacting if their situation had been the other way around. She knew she'd be hovering to the point of driving him mad. It was just her way to worry. So she said nothing, simply resting her head on his shoulder.
Once they were inside, he carried her to the living room and set her in the arm chair Luna had been sitting in earlier. Madam Pomfrey, who had followed them in, told them she was going back upstairs to finish examining Luna. When Hermione would have expressed a desire to go with her, again, she looked at Sam and said nothing. The relief that flitted over his face when she sat back in the armchair spoke volumes about his concern for her.
It wasn't long before Jacob came back into the house, leading a transformed Paul. The normally aggressive Paul, so quick to lose his temper and always looking as if he'd fly off the handle any moment, looked unrestrainedly guilty. In fact, Hermione thought he almost looked desperate.
When he spotted her, he strode forward, so quickly that Sam stepped forward, intending to cut him off before he could reach Hermione and pose any further harm. But Hermione, seeing Sam's head come up as he took that step forward bracing himself, placed a hand on his arm.
When he looked at her, she shook her head, pulling on his arm as she urged him back into his spot on her left. She patted his arm, silently reassuring him that it was all right.
Paul fell to his knees before Hermione and, to everyone's shock, fell forward until his forehead was pressed to her knees as his hands clutched fistfuls of the skirt of her dress. A bit uncomfortable, she looked up at Sam, who just looked back at her in confusion. No help there.
"I'm sorry," Paul said roughly, his voice muffled a little. "God, I'm so sorry for hurting you, Hermione! I could have killed you!"
Still a bit uncomfortable, she awkwardly patted his head where it was pressed to the tops of her knees, and replied, "There, it's all right, Paul. You were understandably upset and I knew what might happen when I got you out of there. I just didn't move quickly enough."
If anything, Sam was even more discomfited than Hermione. He knew how much of a hard-ass Paul was, and to see him displaying this much emotion toward someone who wasn't even his imprint was immensely awkward for the Alpha. He was almost tempted to make Paul go run a double patrol just to annoy him and bring back the hard-ass, just because Paul the Hard-Ass was something he knew and was comfortable with. Paul the Sensitive was not.
"Now, then. If I'm not mistaken, I think there's someone else who's a bit concerned for you." She looked up at Professor Snape, who instantly caught her meaning and nodded. She returned her attention to Paul. "Professor Snape will go upstairs with you to see Luna. He'll make sure you don't phase again."
Paul lifted his head, hope at the idea of seeing Luna warring with confusion about how Snape would keep him from phasing. She smiled. "When he first arrived and I went to go confront him, Sam panicked and tried to beat me to the driveway. I fired a spell at Professor Snape and he deflected it and it hit Sam across the shoulder while he was phased, making him mad and causing him to try and attack Professor Snape, who with a wave of his wand forced Sam from his wolf form and knocked him back a few feet. Don't worry, Professor Snape will be able to make sure you don't hurt Luna or yourself. Go see her."
Paul got to his feet and looked to Professor Snape, who looked back at him without expression. Reassured by the wizard's calm, he left the room and went upstairs.
When Paul and Professor Snape were gone, Sam looked back down at Hermione. He opened his mouth to ask her if she was sure she was alright when she sighed. "I really do need to check on Luna, Sam."
He frowned, not wanting to let her out of his sight now; look what had happened last time he'd done that. But she wasn't having it. "Please, Sam, I promise I'll be alright. Professor Snape is up there as well, and so is Carlisle. Between the three of us if something goes wrong and Paul gets angry we'll be able to keep him from phasing before he can touch anyone. I'm just going to check on her and make sure that she's alright with Madam Pomfrey. Then I'll come back down and you can fuss over me as much as you like." With that she stood and made her way carefully upstairs, banishing him back to where he'd been standing beside her chair when he tried to follow. "Sam, please! Ever heard of too many cooks in the kitchen?" she said, a bit exasperated.
Chastised, he stayed. Her reassurances didn't stop him worrying, however. A ball of anxiety, hot and roiling, seethed in his gut, but he forced himself to stay put as he listened.
"Oh, Hermione, are you alright?" he heard Luna ask anxiously. "What happened?"
He heard a movement and thought it must be Luna trying to get up off the examination table, and knew he was right when he heard the nurse's voice exclaim, "You stay put, young lady! You know very well I have put Miss Granger to rights, so I won't have you worrying yourself sick!"
"I'm fine, Luna," he heard Hermione insist in reply. "Really, don't worry. Between Madam Pomfrey who did the healing and Professor Snape who brewed the potions and Sam who won't let me over-exert myself even if I wanted to, I'm fine and I'll only get better."
"But what happened?" Luna repeated urgently. "Madam Pomfrey disappeared a second after you did, and Carlisle was worried but he wouldn't tell me why, and then I heard Paul growl and then you screamed, and then I heard a ripping sound from downstairs right before I heard somebody Apparating downstairs, and nobody will tell me a thing!"
"It was me," Paul's voice said, sounding miserable. "Finding out you're pregnant with twins made me remember how much trouble Bella went through, and the thought of you going through twice that made me lose control and I phased the second Hermione got the two of us outside. She phased, too, to keep me in check, but I had lost it and she was too close so I hurt her, and I'm so sorry, Hermione. If there's any way I can make -"
"Paul, for Heaven's sake, it's done. You didn't mean to hurt me, and I'm all healed now," she said with the same tone of exasperation. "Just ask Madam Pomfrey. She's quite used to healing me up. I can't even tell you how many times she saw me in the Hospital Wing when I was in school. Life as a witch is always a little rough and tumble, and life as the best friend of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, two of the biggest trouble makers the school has seen since Harry's dad was there, made my life a little more rough and tumble than it already was. I've had worse, believe me."
Those five words, though spoken carelessly, caused a chill to work its way down his spine, especially as he recalled the other, already healed scar that bisected Hermione's torso. What the fuck had she gone through that a mauling by a giant, enraged wolf wasn't as bad?
As if sensing Sam's distress and deciding it wasn't enough, Snape spoke. "Hm, yes, Miss Granger and her friends are quite the trio of trouble magnets. Let's see, there was the time she set me on fire at the age of twelve -" he began.
"Your robes!" Hermione exclaimed. "I set your robes on fire, not you! I was trying to distract you because I thought you were jinxing Harry's broom!"
Sam looked to the Cullens, who had all stopped what they were doing and were all gazing unabashedly toward the ceiling, listening raptly. Little Renesmee's mouth hung open as he face filled with an expression of glee and utter admiration of the witch she'd begun to idolize.
Snape continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Or the time, in her second year at the age of thirteen, she decided she and her friends needed to do a little spying on other students, so she stole ingredients from my personal stores to brew a potion she wouldn't have learned for another five years to transform the three of them into someone else. But she didn't quite succeed, did you, Miss Granger? Tell me, what was the result of that particular endeavor?" The wizard's voice contained a tone of complete smugness; the bastard was probably smirking away, enjoying himself.
"Harry and Ron successfully transformed themselves into someone else and managed to get some information before changing back," she replied defiantly. Sam could just picture her, arms crossed with a scowl on her face.
"Yes, but what about you, hm? What was it you turned yourself into again? Wasn't it…a cat?" The wizard's voice was dripping with smugness now. "You had quite a magnificent tail, if I recall."
Sam snorted, and could hear loud guffaws from Paul upstairs. Sam could even hear Carlisle, Luna, and Madam Pomfrey chuckling along with him. As for the Cullens, Sam could see expressions of equal amusement on their faces. Emmett's expression in particular was priceless. He looked like Christmas had come early.
"You're a right git sometimes, you know that?" Hermione huffed.
"My dear, it is my sole objective in life," Snape replied loftily, and further snorts of amusement answered him. "Let's not forget the time you helped an escaped convict further evade capture on the back of an oversized chicken with the legs of a horse, or the time you broke into and stole from Gringotts Bank and escaped on the back of a half-blind dragon."
"Oh, now you're just flattering me, Snape," the witch said coyly. "Those were some of my greater accomplishments, after all. Along with the time I cursed the word 'sneak' onto Marietta Edgecomb's face when she ratted on us to that toad -"
"Ah, yes, another one of your accomplishments, launching an underground rebellion amongst angsty teenagers," he said drolly.
"Against a tyrant who would have had us believe the world was harmless and who taught us nothing more important than how dangerous the color pink can be and the best way to sit with our thumbs up our arses," she shot back snidely.
"I will certainly concede that point. Starting that defense group most certainly saved your lives when Potter foolishly dragged the lot of you to the Department of Mysteries. Had you not started that group Dolohov likely would have done far worse than he did and left you with far more scars than just the one on your chest. Rather than spending ten weeks in a bed in the Hospital Wing you likely would have spent eternity in a casket six feet under," Snape answered more seriously. "You wouldn't have made it far enough to even go on the run with Potter and Weasley in the hunt for the Horcruxes, much less made it to fight alongside them in the Final Battle and see our side to victory in the war. Nor would you have survived the torture Bellatrix Lestrange put you through, in which she carved that word into your arm."
If chills had gone down Sam's spine before, now he felt his heart stop. Hermione had been in the war? She'd been tortured?
Now he remembered the scar, the jagged, old scar that ran down her chest perpendicular to the ones inflicted by Paul, and his mind was filled with horror at the thought of what could possibly have put a scar like that on the chest of a sixteen-year-old girl. He was so overwhelmed by the thoughts running through his mind that he paid no attention to how Jasper Cullen was looking at him in deep concern while his brother Edward was gazing toward the ceiling with a frown of consternation on his face, as if he were only hearing one side of a story. And he didn't even notice how the voices trailed off as some of them started making their way back downstairs.
"Sam?" came Hermione's voice from the stairwell, so close but sounding so far away. "Are you alright? What's the matter?" Instantly he snapped out of his stunned reverie, but didn't even bother trying to hide his horrified expression from her.
As Hermione had made her way downstairs, she'd been nearly overwhelmed by a powerful sense of horror coming from downstairs. Still new to the imprint, she wasn't certain what was causing the feeling, until Sam came into her view. He was gazing up toward the ceiling with a shocked and horrified expression on his face.
"Sam, are you alright?" she asked, concerned.
She very nearly recoiled when he seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in, and she saw the mix of shock, horror, and pain in his eyes as he met her gaze. "What's the matter?" she choked.
"You -!" he stuttered, and her heart began to pound with dread. "You were – you fought? You were tortured?" Her stomach, turned to lead, dropped to her feet. So he'd heard Severus's comment about how the DA had helped teach her survival skills. But when she realized Sam's massive form had begun to shake, she sprang into action.
She lurched toward him, reaching with her hands toward his face. Speaking quickly but gently, she patted and caressed his face. "Sam, listen to me, it's over. She's dead, she can't hurt me. They all are. None of them can hurt me anymore. And even if they were still around, I'm here with you. I'm safe with you. I'm safe. I know you and the wolf will protect me with everything you have. It's alright, I'm safe. It's alright, I'm safe," she repeated, tugging his face gently down to her level as she continued to caress him, so that she could press kisses to his face, hoping to calm him down.
It was working, but only barely. From the corner of her eye she could see the Cullens gathering, watching the two of them in concern. She knew that if Sam had heard what Severus had said, then so had everyone else. And there was no way she was about to talk about it with everyone. So she made a decision. "Come on, Sam, run with me. Let's run, and then we can talk about it." So saying, she tugged him outside, giving him no choice but to follow her if he didn't want to let her go.
Once outside, she phased with a whirl and took off, knowing he would follow. Sure enough, she heard a ripping sound behind her followed by the pounding of large feet.
For the second time that day, the two wolves found themselves running up into the mountains.
Eh, so I'm not really sure about this chapter, but I didn't know what else to do with it. Do you think there's too much going on in one day? At the end here I was going to have her sit down and talk to everybody about what Snape said and just basically confess how much of her role in the war she's left out, but then I remembered, hell, she's still suffering PTSD, and wouldn't be ready to go all group therapy yet. Besides, as Sam's other half, she should talk to him first, right? So my question is, should I stretch the events of this chapter out a few days and toss in a few more short filler scenes, or not?
For those who have stuck by me from the beginning, thanks for sticking around. For those who almost gave up, thanks for giving me another chance. For those who are just now tuning in, thanks for joining us.