Ch. 6— Return to Hogwarts
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Hermione turned to Severus, and Severus hushed her with a finger to her lips.
"No talking. I'm drawing you a bath where you can read. It's Sunday tomorrow, and it will be spent in a drafty old castle with more company, sadly, than only myself and your opera ghost."
She grinned.
"I'll make dinner," volunteered Erik. "It will be a French fast food specialty."
"What does that mean?" she asked.
"Soup," explained Severus. "He means 'soup' of whatever's on hand."
Erik nodded.
Hermione nodded to her bag. "Mrs. Weasley foisted a pie on me as we left. Although, I'm certain your 'soup' idea would be delici—"
"That woman has a talent in the kitchen. Hand over the goods, Hermione," said Erik, and walking into the kitchen, Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out the pie.
She watched Erik tear up. "It's rhubarb—" he exclaimed. "My favorite!"
"Yet another convert to the kitchen witch," said Hermione. "Eventually Mrs. Weasley slays us all with her cooking."
Severus' arms wound around her from behind as he drew her towards the fire and her steaming tub.
The book on the table beside it was a curiosity, however. "The Romantic Alchemist?" she asked looking at the title.
Severus studied her. "Your options regarding what you can become in this life have broadened considerably this day, apprentice. You could, as Shacklebolt suggested, become a 'Barrister for the Defense' and pursue litigious justice for the oppressed and downtrodden. You would excel at this path, probably eventually becoming Minister of Magic one day. You could study architecture and artistry with Chastaine and pursue your masters in Charms work. Flitwick will gladly want one such as you for his apprentice. And I can only imagine the artistry you'd weave in the marriage of these two subjects, my very talented girl."
She gulped. "Or…?" she asked, holding the book.
"Or you could still choose to learn potioneering from me. It will not be easy. Nothing worth attaining is. But you would take your place as one of the premier potions mistresses in the world, Hermione, and you could help save lives in this respect. Molly Weasley needs assistance with her husband. I could use assistance in researching and remedying his plight."
"Do you think we could see to reversing the 'obliviate' on my parents, Severus?" she asked uncertainly.
His eyes softened. "Of course, my heart."
She nodded towards the book. "I'll begin reading, shall I?"
Severus nodded. "And I'll bring you a glass of wine and give you a massage in a half-hour or so."
So saying, Severus left her to it while Erik busied himself in the kitchen preparing their meal.
And Hermione soon immersed herself in the alchemical text.
She read the foreword:
With hydrogen in our veyns, it cannot be contained/ Our blood is boyling. And with pressure in our bodys, it echoes up above, we're exploding/ And with partycles, they burn only because they yearn for each other/ And although we styck together, it seems we are stranging one another.
–An ode to Strangeness and Charm
Hermione turned the page to find the book filled with the private scribblings of the half-blood prince himself.
He'd given her a gift…a glimpse into his private world, his thoughts, his very soul. This book was a private diary for him. It was where he got the inspiration for his 'subtle art of bewitching the mind and ensnaring the senses'. This book was a love note to the noble art of potions craft and alchemical pursuits, and Hermione found herself charmed and completely enraptured as she read until the water surrounding her grew cool.
A powerful warming charm was placed on the water, and she shivered, looking up. Professor Snape was back with a glass of wine and Erik in tow with a tray of her dinner. "Dinner first or massage?" asked Professor Snape.
"Wine," she answered and nodded to her love letter of a book, setting it to the side as she took the proffered glass from her professor. "You play your hand very fine, Master Snape."
"I've learned to, apprentice, as you say, 'play my hand very fine', indeed, as concerns you." His attention was all for her.
Erik looked between the two of them. "Have I missed something?"
"It concerns my future, Erik, and whether or not I continue in my study with Professor Snape. The only trouble is… I've many paths of interest before me, and no true way to pursue all to my satisfaction—"
"Why not?" asked Erik, twirling one of his drawing pencils through his fingers. "If I had to narrow my interests down to just one mastery, life would be incredibly boring!"
"But me attempt to be a Barrister for the defense, and an architectural charms work artist who plays the harp, and a potions mistress—that would just be—"
"—a matter of time and study," said Erik as he shrugged. "You're brilliant enough to see all those dreams accomplished and more, angel. You've only to decide to begin. I'll help as will Severus. That Kingsley Shacklebolt fellow will, too, I imagine."
Hermione looked towards Professor Snape. He told her, "I need you for four years intensive study. Going as we're going, if you were to provide me three dedicated days a week, you could be mastered in four years. Flitwick, as well, would demand three days of your attention if you were to apprentice in Charms." Severus nodded toward Erik. "Chastaine could help you there, as charms work involves the marriage of artistry and architecture as well as mathematics and arithmancy. In its own way, it's a bit like composing."
"And the Barristry?" she asked.
"Once you're done with your apprenticeships, you could naturally begin work in the Ministry in nearly any field that suits your purpose. If you, as I mentioned, wanted to focus on the plight of near-sentient magical creatures and their reclassification, as I know is one of your passions, then within five years, that goal can be met. You can take muggle classes in law and reason, if necessary, as well as apprentice with Kingsley in politics if it comes down to it. I'm sure he'd love to have you."
"And you really think I can accomplish all this?" she asked softly.
"And more," Erik replied, beginning to sketch.
She nodded. "Alright, my path's decided." She giggled and cheered them with her wine. "I choose them all!"
"That's the spirit," said Erik as he sketched what he thought Hogwarts was going to look like tomorrow when he'd pictured it from his imaginings while reading Hogwarts: A History.
Tomorrow was going to be a truly magical day.
Severus levitated her dinner to her on a tray, and Hermione tucked in while still in the bath, feeling absolutely naughty at indulging something so luxurious as feeding herself while soaking in the tub with her glass of chilled wine.
"What think you of your reading, apprentice?" asked Severus.
She bit her lip, then answered, "I'm getting to glimpse the inner workings of a beautiful, poetic mind. The book's good too." She nodded to it. "I adore your notes in the margins, Severus. They make me feel like you're there reading with me."
Severus' eyes were soft as he gazed at her as she finished her meal. Once finished, he levitated the tray from the lip of the tub, and Hermione rose from the water.
"May I have that massage now?" she asked Severus softly.
"Does my mistress want that here or in the bedroom.
She nodded to the rug by the fire. "Cleaning and cushioning charms are wonderful things." And waving her wand, she cleaned Erik's Aubusson rug and placed a strong cushioning charm on it by Erik's roaring fire in his Sweet Music's Throne.
"Done," said Severus, helping her step from the tub, banishing the water and shrinking it back to dollhouse size. He performed a drying charm on her and then began to undress himself.
She grinned. "So, it's going to be one of those massages, huh?" she asked.
"With a happy ending?" Severus teased. "Oh, you bet, apprentice. How's your wandless magic?"
Hermione bit her lip. "It depends. Do you feel like repairing fabric today?" she asked.
Severus looked at her curiously.
She shook her head. "I use too much force. I've been trying to wandlessly call my robe to me for weeks. It hasn't worked."
"But you 'accio' your wand without thought. Do so now."
Hermione did, and obediently, her wand came from the table to her palm.
Severus narrowed his eyes. "Levitate my robes," he ordered the folded pile of black beside him.
She shook her head. "Let's not do something so costly. How about that candlestick." She nodded over to the unlit candelabrum in the corner. Severus nodded.
Hermione waved her hand, and the candlestick was floating gracefully towards them, and then it ignited, catching fire, and Hermione was losing control, and Erik screamed "Aye-Yee!" and fled when her rogue candle began chasing him, dripping hot wax on his poor head.
"Christ! Erik, I'm sorry!" Hermione cried after him.
Professor Snape called the candle back with a casual wave of his hand and extinguished it. He looked at her and then he looked at the candle. "Well, apprentice, we've our work cut out for us."
"Yes, master," she agreed.
Erik poked his head back in the doorway. "Is it safe?"
"Yes, Chastaine, my apprentice won't be doing that again." Severus grinned, and it wasn't pleasant. "Come, enjoy your massage, mistress. For tomorrow, they'll be pain."
"Ooh, I don't think I like the sound of that," Hermione said, her voice filled with dread.
"Live it up now, apprentice, and try not to think of the backbreaking future in store for you as regards to your magical discipline." He grinned, and all the promise of the world was in his gangly smile.
She laughed and kissed him. "Very well, master. I trust you to make me the best I can be." She wrinkled her nose, "But first…" she crooked her finger. "I insist you come service me on Erik's rug."
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Erik was content to sketch them in their fun, but Hermione, and Severus for that matter, were not content to let him stay bystander to their cabal. Once more Erik undressed with them, and the three of them joined as one with Hermione riding him while servicing Severus within the warm chasm of her mouth.
It had been so incredibly erotic, and Severus had done as Erik had done earlier, and spent himself inside her lovely quim once Erik had sought his own release within her.
It had been a perfect moment between the three of them.
Erik supposed he needed to think of Hermione's reputation and the scandal of it all if her nearest and dearest were to find out. But honestly, did it matter? He didn't know any of those people of whom he'd been introduced, and Hermione had felt comfortable declaring herself 'able to love whomever she chose' to her friends and family.
Erik cleaned her with the flannel and warm water Severus provided, and the three of them lay in a coitus-fueled haze of bliss until the cushioning charm Hermione had cast gave way, and the fire burned low in the grate.
Erik saw Hermione had fallen asleep in their arms, and Erik looked over to find Severus studying her as if she held all the answers to the universe within her grasp.
"What is it, mon frère?" Erik asked the dark-eyed man.
Severus looked up, and in his eyes Erik saw relief as well as a kernel of joy. "She's still in my arms. After everything that's been done today, she's still in my arms, and I count that as a minor miracle."
Erik snorted and sat up, gathering Hermione in his arms and rising to take her to bed. "Minor, nothing, Snape. It's a miracle the three of us are together at all, and I, for one, plan on never taking another day for granted within her arms." He nestled her close for a hug and lay her in the middle of the Louis Phillipe.
He made to rise and leave, but Severus shook his head and said, "Stay with us, mon frère."
Erik's eyes widened. Severus nodded his head towards her as he crawled upon the acre of bed and curled next to her, his nude form embracing hers. "It's going to take the both of us in her future for I will have to show her discipline in order to make her better at her craft, and she'll need to turn to you for relief."
Erik tried not to smile. "I, too, can be a steel hand in a velvet glove when it comes to our angel's discipline."
Severus rolled his eyes. "Be nice to her when I can't, Chastaine. That's all I'm saying."
"And I'm saying vice versa, Snape." Erik shot him a look. "It's not going to be rainbows and fairytales for our angel, and we three know it. But of anyone I've ever met, Hermione Granger is the one to excel at the path she's chosen for herself, and with opportunity as well as discipline as her bedfellows, she'll have no choice but to excel." Erik tucked a curl behind her ear. "Would you like to be mesmerized to sleep, Severus?" Erik asked.
Severus nodded sharply and then levitated the bedclothes around the three of them and whispered, 'Nox' so the lamplight extinguished, and the room was plunged in darkness.
"Sleep and dream kindly," Erik ordered.
The Englishman slept.
And holding Hermione by the waist, and Severus by the shoulder, Erik fell asleep with them both.
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Severus awoke to the feeling of Erik's hand embracing his shoulder as he held Hermione.
It wasn't distasteful. Not that Severus wanted more. Just… this fraternal bond they had between them—it was kismet. This understanding between the three of them. And Severus didn't think he could ever feel this way about another soul as he did for both Hermione and Chastaine.
He would die for them both.
He had done for Potter's sake.
Perhaps the bar was set a bit low….
But he would sacrifice his happiness to see to theirs. If Hermione had to choose between the two of them—himself and Chastaine—in order to achieve her ultimate joy, Severus would gracefully cede the field. And it was not that he didn't care, but he cared enough to want for them both ultimate joy and couldn't imagine forcing Hermione to choose between the two of them.
And Severus supposed that was what love was.
And he loved the curly-headed baggage dearly, and the Frenchman too. Severus was man enough to admit that.
They were his family.
Erik stirred, and then he was grasping Severus' arm and pulling away from them both, rolling from the bed to answer 'nature's call'.
Severus called his wand to him and lit a candle beside the bed so the Frenchman would have light upon his return.
He was back soon enough and climbing back into the bed. Hermione turned within the bounds of Severus' arms and nestled close to Erik while Severus nestled her from behind. Severus had precious few minutes' left until he had to rise for the day and see to the packing of Erik's home and Albus' hideaway for his return to Hogwarts, so he wanted to absorb as much of Hermione's warmth as he could while he still held her in his arms.
She rolled her hips in her sleep on a moan, and Severus heard the slightest undercurrent of a whisper.
He listened very closely.
'You are riding the crest of a wave, angel. The sea is yours to master. All you need do is roll your hips to experience release.' She moaned and did as instructed, rolling her hips between the two of them. Severus watched Erik's lips. He wasn't moving a single muscle in his mouth, only his Adam's apple betrayed his vocal movements. But he was interfering in Hermione's dreams, Severus would bet his potions mastery on it. 'Almost, Hermione. The crest of your wave is almost upon you. Sweet release is yours, beloved angel. You've only to think of being ridden like you're riding the crest of that wave.'
Her eyelids fluttered. She rolled her hips.
'Awaken, sweet angel. Let me greet you 'good morning',' ventriloquized Erik.
Her eyes fluttered open, and then she was kissing the Frenchman, and rolling in his arms, sliding down until she was impelled upon him. And Severus envied the man his peculiar vocal talent for he'd prepared Hermione well for their joining, it seemed. She slithered and rolled her hips upon him, Chastaine, as well, countering her movements in this lover's ballet as body rose to meet body.
And through his whispering of 'sweet nothings', she was almost there, and then their angel was moaning her release to the heavens, and Erik was spending himself within her liquid warmth in the early morning candlelight.
Upon recovering, Hermione immediately looked towards Severus. "Good morning, master," she said on a grin, still connected with Chastaine and hugging the Frenchman to her.
"Have you had your fun, Chastaine?" Severus asked irritably.
Unrepentant in his joy, Erik could only smirk and pass her on. She went to Severus on a giggle, and he swatted her playfully on the rump. "Oh, think I need mesmerism tricks to beguile you, do you?" asked Severus, waving his wand to cleanse her of Chastaine's joining.
She tucked his hair behind his ear and shook her head, her eyes meeting his. "No. Your morning gruff uttered in your professor's voice is the sexiest sound I think I've ever heard, Severus Snape, and I'm dating the Phantom of the Opera. Now, say something wicked and sinful and fuck me over it."
"Oh, ho," Severus laughed, and it sounded wicked. "Earlier in our acquaintanceship, apprentice," Severus said drawing to his knees, and turning her over so her rump was on display over his knee and below his hands, "I had cause to want to put you over my knee." Phwap! He gave her a spanking, and she gasped, her eyes flying to his. He then smoothed the stinging skin taut and kissed away the ache it produced.
She moaned.
"Your request was for something wicked—" he said lowly in her neck, knowingly, with his morning gruff, and Hermione bit her lip. Phwap. He spanked her other flank.
"Something sinful—" Phwap, phwap.
Hermione groaned, feeling red-cheeked.
"And to fuck you over it—" he said with a naughty smirk. Phwap, phwap, phwap!
Hermione shrieked.
"What are your safe words, apprentice?" Severus asked her seriously.
"Two-quince," she answered, trying to catch her breath.
"And do you invoke them?" he asked, rubbing her rump taut.
She shook her head and pursed her lips.
"Very well," said Severus. "You are under some duress at this moment, are you not?" Phwap!
"Yes, master," she admitted readily enough.
Severus smoothed the rosy skin, and performing a cooling charm on his lips, kissed the ache away. She sighed and squirmed when his lips dipped lower, and then he was eating her out and performing a cool kiss.
Severus' concentration was all for Hermione at that moment, and Hermione's was all for her potion's master. But Erik's was for the tableau in bondage and discipline that was unfolding between them, and he was in awe of Severus Snape's command of it.
"We are going to play the game of 'hot and cold', apprentice. That candlestick with which you chased your other lover around last night needs to return to its home in the candelabrum in that corner there." Severus pointed.
"You will use your wandless magic to achieve this aim—" he said.
"What?" she asked, her tone sober as she looked up at him in worried shock.
Severus nodded. "Yes. At risk of corporeal punishment from me, and I assure you, apprentice, I take pride in my work to make your backside 'hot'." Severus rubbed the rosy skin of her backside.
She drew a deep, steadying breath, but then turned to him. "You said 'hot and cold'. Am I to think there's a reward in there somewhere for a job well-done?" she asked, her tone hopeful.
"Your job is to get the stick in the hole, apprentice," said Professor Snape knowingly. His fingers dipped low and swirled. "To the point, yes?"
Blushing, she laughed, "Alright." She drew a deep, steadying breath, and immediately the candle ignited.
"Why does it catch fire, Hermione?" Professor Snape asked, his tone patient. "Did you want this to happen?"
She shook her head. "No. Not at all. I don't understand what I'm doing wrong."
"You're trying to swat a gnat with a cannon," said Erik knowingly.
Hermione looked towards Professor Snape.
Severus pointed at her. "You do not have to use all your power to perform this mundane task."
"I'm not—" she denied.
"Hermione?" asked Erik.
She turned to him. "Catch." And he threw her wand at her. The candle went flying toward the candelabrum, and immediately inserted itself in the vacant slot as she caught her wand.
Hermione looked at Professor Snape shocked.
Professor Snape looked at Hermione knowingly. "You're blocked." He pointed to her curl-tousled head. "Magically, you're blocked."
"No," Erik shook his head, "magically, our angel's perfect. It's mental concentration that needs assistance. You've trouble letting tasks go, angel. We'll work on it together." He nodded to Severus. "Are you finished with her, Severus? She did, after all, accomplish your goal of getting the shaft in its little hole." Erik smiled sanguinely, having already alleviated his own shaft's particularneedsthat morning.
Severus rubbed Hermione's flanks which were still rosy from his earlier ministrations. "Too late to get my shaft in your little hole this morning, mistress?" asked Severus, fingering her moist slit.
Hermione called the time from her wand and winced. "If you make it quick."
"Woman!" shrieked Severus, and she laughed, falling into his arms on a grin. "With you teasing me like this, I'll last seconds." And Severus drew her within his arms and made love to her, having her moaning, chanting his name as he drew out her pleasure and his own to both their satisfaction.
Hermione insisted on showering alone because now time was really pressing, and both Erik's house as well as the cottage and treehouse had to be packed clean of their valuables and put back under stasis before their arrival to Hogwarts at eleven.
She came to the kitchen freshly showered and changed in denims, trainers, and her jumper with jacket to find breakfast waiting for the three of them, and a white rose still wet with dew lying beside her plate.
She picked it up and inhaled the scent. "Where'd you get the food from, Erik?" she asked, knowing none of them had had the time to go shopping.
"Phantom's tool and trade, Hermione, my love," Erik winked and pointed above. "The opera house kitchens."
She laughed and bit into her eggs and smoked salmon with toast.
"When we arrive to Albus' Resort, I want you and Chastaine to go to his treehouse and ward it for the long haul. We'll meet at Albus' cabin. You've taken all your valuables in your bag when we left, did you not?"
Hermione nodded.
"Then that just leaves a few of my things, and Chastaine's." Severus looked around. "Would you like me to magically ward this place so it's protected from the elements as well as from nosy interlopers?"
Erik agreed that would be acceptable.
"Now, you've only to practice your harp, apprentice. Say twenty-five minutes while I finish my breakfast, take care of odds and ends, and the warding?" asked Severus, sipping his coffee and studying her over the rim.
Hermione gobbled up her toast and drank her juice. So, too, did Erik, and together, teacher and student went to Erik's music room for student to practice on her instrument and teacher to instruct.
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Erik had Severus pack the majority of his fortune in a spell-proof, fire-proof, magically-protected strong box kept safe in Hermione's bag. He left a bit of his fortune with his house by the underground lake, unknowing when, or if, he'd ever make it back.
Hermione and he'd shrunk down all his instrumentation save his pipe-organ; his one of a kind steam-powered creation. He would miss playing her.
He covered her keys with only a little sorrow for the times spent playing her here at Sweet Music's Throne. And then he went to join Hermione and Severus. "Have you said your farewells to the walls, Chastaine?" asked Severus.
Erik nodded, bidding a final adieu to his gilded prison, and tucking himself into Hermione's embrace, the three of them turned, landing in the wood by his treehouse. Nodding to him and kissing Hermione goodbye, Severus left them, and Erik immediately went to his workshop and began packing away his 'ratchet' violin in the woodworked case he made as well as its unfinished bow. He packed away the tools he'd found, made, and borrowed from Albus' cottage and watched as Hermione froze everything in stasis, a kind of clear enchantment placed over the lot of it. She called it a 'protective ward'.
And then Erik gestured they should go inside the treehouse.
He packed up his change of clothes as well as a few trinkets he was working on manufacturing for Hermione's amusement. And the sheet music he was working on as concerns her 'Stairway to Heaven' composition for harp. He nodded to it. "An inspired choice, angel. Your Zepplin song you're having me learn in order to please you."
"Does that mean you actually like it?" she asked, coming to draw him to her.
Erik nodded. "The song suits you completely for you are the lady who's sure all that glitters is gold, showing us all how it's to be done." He grinned. "I am not sorry for having heard it."
"Good." Reaching on her tiptoes. She gave him a 'pop' kiss, then said against his lips, "May you consider this a gateway to good things to come—"
He shook his head. "Oh, no. Not nearly that easy, angel." And Hermione winced for how could she forget that her Angel of Music was just as much a master of his craft as her potions master? "I will only be exposed to your rock-n-roll if you learn the songs to play tem with me. That's the only way."
She bit her lip, then nodded. "Good! Our next song, after Stairway, is going to be 'Rock You Like a Hurricane' by the Scorpions."
Erik grinned. "I look forward to it, angel." He looked around. "I've packed everything I want to take from this place. You're welcome to ward it now." Hermione did so, everything freezing in place, and together they left their little treetop abode where they'd found such happiness in one another's arms.
"Will you miss it?" she asked, nodding back to their treehouse as they began making their way back towards the Resort.
Erik nodded. "I will miss having you there at night all to myself."
"Oh, but—" she led.
"Don't misunderstand," Erik said, holding up the hand not holding hers. "I wouldn't change what we have between the three of us, Hermione. It's magical, but… that night. That first night between us we had a communion of souls; I'd like to return to that space. Perhaps with Severus if we can manage it, but I definitely want to experience it again."
Hermione nodded and leaned in for a kiss. "I know exactly what you mean."
And hand-in-hand, they walked through the wood to Albus' cabin, seeing Professor Snape close, lock, and ward the door just as they entered the clearing.
Hermione cast her tempus spell. 10: 38 in Scotland. "We've just enough time to apparate to Hogsmeade and come up through the village so Erik can see the castle from that vantage," said Hermione.
Severus nodded, casting a glamor on himself. "Make it so, apprentice." And tucking Hermione into his side, Severus wove his arm around Erik as Hermione began to turn them.
It was a looong apparition from Albus' cottage to Hogsmeade Village, and Hermione almost stumbled upon her landing if not for Erik and Professor Snape at her side catching her.
She looked up to find Professor Snape had his blond glamour disguise on. With his features disguised, his Hogwarts priest-like robes transfigured to normal wizards robes of dark blue, he looked even-tempered and approachable. And no one would guess that he was Headmaster Snape, the black bat of the dungeons.
However, the three of them were receiving stares from the people of Hogsmeade, a few of them recognizing her, but no one had dared approach them.
On their way there, Severus pointed his wand at Erik and said, "Verum Aspectum." Erik blinked looking around him, and then he was looking up and up, and he gestured towards the castle, "That's Hogwarts?" he asked.
Hermione nodded, looking at the grand edifice with so many turrets and spires carved as it was in the Scottish hillside by the Enchanted Lake.
Erik rubbed his eyes and then looked again. And then again. "It has buttresses," was all he said. Hermione laughed and hugged him close.
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Severus waved his wand, and the gate opened for him, and he felt part of himself restored to this place that he'd never thought he'd be welcome to again.
Minerva was on her way to meet him, and she had a blistering harangue at the ready. "How dare you, Severus Snape!" She waved her wand and destroyed his glamour, "Seek to show yourself at Hogwarts again! How dare you after what you did to him and with you appointing the Carrows! And all those students suffering under the pain of the Cruciatus—"
"Minerva, I'm sorry," Severus apologized, hoping to head this off at the pass. "I had no choice in much of it!"
"The hell you say, Headmaster Snape!" she spat. It was then she looked over and spotted Hermione. "Miss Granger! What on Earth are you doing here with Severus?" she asked.
Hermione said, "Making sure the truth of Headmaster Snape's true allegiance is known, professor. It's good to see you," Hermione ended, smiling.
Minerva held out her arms. "It's good to see you, too, child!"
The two women embraced for a long moment, and then Minerva was looking at Severus again and letting Hermione go. "What did you promise him then?" she suddenly asked Severus. "If Miss Granger is here defending you, then you must be innocent. What did you promise Albus before he died?"
Severus gulped and admitted, "I vowed to kill him, Minerva, when the time came. And opportunity came calling the moment Potter returned with him poisoned from that cave. He was in misery by then. It was a kindness."
Minerva nodded, her jaw grit tight. "And the Carrows, Severus?"
Severus looked up to the heavens and tossed his hands up. "I did my best, Minerva. No student died whileunder my tenure, and that's not for lack of wanting on the parts of Amycus and Alecto Carrow. And I killed them at the end of it, so there!"
Minerva's eyes widened. "It was you, wasn't it?" she asked, devastated. "I kept wondering who threw the curses that killed the Carrows that morning, and it was you, right in front of us all! Oh, Severus, my boy!" And just like that, Minerva was folding him into her embrace, and Severus was looking extremely irritated, but one look at Hermione, and his irritation ratcheted down to 'botheration' as he patted Minerva's back soothingly.
She sniffed.
He grimaced. "Stop tearing up on me, woman! I'm not a handkerchief!"
"Oh, you!" Minerva slapped his chest. "I'm sorry I was such a bother to you this last year, Severus."
Severus shook his head. "I'm not. You played your part perfectly, and everything worked out as it should in the end, so there's no need to apologize or fret, Minerva. I'm fine, and hopefully, I'll not be facing an inquest—"
"Kingsley's already here and waiting for you in the headmaster's office. And the Board of Governors? What of that?" she asked. "Harry Potter has been very vocal about continuing classes in the dark arts, and he's got the Board of Governors as well as Hortencia Moffet on his side."
Severus looked at Minerva and said knowingly, "I believe Potter's stance on that has done a full one-hundred eighty-degree turn."
"How so, Severus?" Minerva asked, gesturing he should open the main door and let them all in.
With a gesture of his hand, the large front door opened by itself.
"Harry was possessed by what remained of Voldemort, professor," said Hermione to Professor McGonagall softly.
"What?!" McGonagall shrieked.
Luckily, no one was around to hear as all students were in class.
Severus nodded. "Yes, and as of yesterday, the world's shut of him—Riddle, not Potter."
Minerva looked relieved, but then said, "That explains so very much about that boy," and began telling them about some curiosities and discrepancies in Harry's behavior in the last three months as she led the way to the Headmaster's office.
For his part, Erik was trying to take everything in at once, and doing a damn poor job of it. His artist's eye wanted to go everywhere! There was such a wealth of beauty and magnificent artistry on display. From rich animated paintings and tapestry to suits of armor and moving staircases, Hogwarts was magnificent and didn't disappoint. "You said your employer's edifice was 'grand', mon frère, I think you might've underestimated a bit," said Erik, dryly.
"Oh, does Hogwarts underwhelm, Chastaine?" Severus said knowingly, gesturing to the Great Hall with its enchanted ceiling.
Erik snorted.
Minerva McGonagall finally focused on him. "And who's this we have with us, Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall asked, indicating the hand of Erik's Hermione held as they walked.
Hermione introduced, "Erik Chastaine, opera ghost, I'd like you to meet Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Mistress of Transfiguration and current acting Head of Hogwarts School."
"Headmistress McGonagall," greeted Erik, "Hermione has told me fond recollections of your classes."
"Hermione introduced you as the 'opera ghost'. You're clearly no ghost, so I'm afraid I don't quite get the joke."
"There's no joke, professor. Errm," Hermione scratched behind her ear. "He truly is the Phantom of the Opera. Like the tale as told by Gaston Leroux in 1911. Erik's from 1881."
Minerva McGonagall did a double take, looking between them. "How on Earth, child?" she asked distantly.
"How about a cuppa, and we'll chat?" invited Hermione.
"How about a nip of something stronger?" countered Minerva as an aside to Severus.
"Done and done," said Severus, re-enacting the wards on his old office, and calling forth the stone Phoenix to turn to let them in.
Kingsley waited for them within. He held the papers and the Resurrection Stone lay in a box on Albus' desk.
Kingsley's eyes, however, were for Severus Snape and Snape alone. Minerva drew Hermione away, and Erik stood by Severus, ever watchful of what would transpire.
"I've talked with Albus, at length, last night as well as both Lily and James Potter. They are adamant you are forgiven in your relaying of information that saw them killed. Interestingly enough," Kingsley pointed to the stone, "I tried to contact Tom Riddle, but the only image I could see was a coin with a Grecian emperor on it. Do you find this curious?"
Severus shook his head. "No. I don't think Charon has relinquished his hold on the last bit of Riddle's soul. I can only imagine the hel he's experiencing now," And Severus smiled in glee.
Kingsley laughed. "Oh, that's good. I've been in contact with the Wizengamut. I wasn't the only one to speak to Dumbledore's essence this night. Due to Albus' forthright binding arbitration and dying declaration to surrender his life to you in order for you to perform a medically assisted suicide via the 'Avada Kedavra', a merciful killing compared to the horror he faced in living out his poisoning and that curse, you are from this moment cleared of all wrongful doing in the death of Albus Dumbledore and a declaration in the Daily Prophet will be written and deemed of note by the acting Minister of Magic at this time: Hortense Moffet. Now, let's talk of Tom Riddle."
Hermione groaned.
Minerva rang for a house-elf.
Severus went to Albus' private stash and brought out the best, giving a glassful to Kingsley and Minerva. Hermione and Erik waved him off, preferring to wait for tea. Severus filled his own glass, then took a fortifying sip.
"He's gone, Shacklebolt. Let the dead bury the dead," insisted Severus.
"But somebody's got to take credit for it," insisted the dark-skinned wizard.
"I will," said Hermione. "The wizarding world already knows I was there. Why not invent the fiction I was the one that slayed him?"
"Because I don't want that target painted on your back, apprentice," said Severus, immediately shaking his head.
"Then tell the truth. Tell them it was a combined effort between us," Erik said, gesturing between he and Severus.
"I'm sorry," said Minerva, "of what part did you play exactly?" she asked.
"We time-traveled the night of the final battle, professor, and Erik came forward with us from 1881. Erik mesmerized Voldemort's compliance in both getting rid of his contingent of followers as well as convincing Voldemort to take the potion that saw to his eventual death and capture with Charon."
"Mesmerized… as in with the power of your voice?" asked Minerva to Erik.
Erik nodded.
"Oh," she looked pleased. "Oh my. That is a rare gift. One, I'm certain Filius is going to want to explore at length." The tea arrived, and Hermione busied herself, pouring out. Her professor added her Ogden's tipple to the tea. Kingsley and Severus drank theirs straight.
"What was that creature?" Erik asked Hermione to the house elf that just disapparated away.
"A house elf. I'll explain their plight later—" Hermione said.
"You mean you don't know about house elves?" asked Minerva. "I'm sorry. Who is this person?" She gestured to Erik in utter confusion.
Hermione bit her lip about to answer, but it was Severus Snape who said, "He's the most extraordinary muggle you'll ever meet, Minerva, and it's best, believe me, not to underestimate him."
Hermione and Erik laughed.
Severus cheered Erik with his glass and took a drink.
The Transfiguration professor gave the unassuming muggle man another considerate look, and then said, "Why are you wearing a glamour, sir?" she asked Erik baldly.
Erik drew back, unsure how to answer. "I didn't realize Hermione's charm work could be seen readily enough."
Minerva shook her head. "To the untrained eye, no, but I'm a master of spellwork, and what she's done for you is very fine, but it grows wearisome in spots, and the charm could stand to be renewed every so often. Is there, perhaps, something wrong with your face under her spell work?" Minerva asked gently. "We've a fine healer here at Hogwarts—"
Hermione laughed, and Minerva looked up.
Hermione explained, "Erik is sinfully handsome under my charm, ma'am. He errm, he's self-conscious about it."
"Oh, errm, really?" asked Professor McGonagall curiously.
Erik nodded, feeling his face. It felt normal, but if, as she'd said, Hermione's charm could be renewed, he'd want it done.
"Would you mind if I—" Minerva gestured to her wand.
Erik looked to Severus of all people, and Severus nodded the go-ahead as he continued to converse with Kingsley about Riddle.
Erik nodded, and Hermione's professor of Transfiguration was dispelling the charm on his face.
She gasped, and Erik closed his eyes on a wince expecting nothing else.
"Oh, quit your flinching, Chastaine," said Severus irritably, "your mug's radiant and beautiful. Is it not, ladies?" ended Professor Snape dryly.
"Yes," Hermione answered readily.
"You're… Circe's armor," said Minerva, "I've seen painting of such beauty, but never have I seen such beauty up close! And I've encountered thousands of faces, sir."
Hermione looked at Erik, truly looked at him past the classically gorgeous face.
He was very uncomfortable with what was transpiring, and Hermione wanted to see that changed immediately, and so said, "Professor, please help me create a more lasting transfiguration for Erik so he can go from here normally. That's all he wishes for: normalcy."
"Oh, of course!" she insisted. "Now, I understand." She smiled wryly. "There's such a thing as too much of a good thing, and I'm afraid the sheer perfection of you would set Hogwarts on its ear, and every young miss would be vying for Miss Granger's position at your side."
"And they'd all of them fall short of the pedestal she's on," insisted Erik, closing his eyes and feeling the warmth of the witch's gentle wandwork contort his skin.
Hermione winced. "I hate heights, Erik," she told him, watching as her professor did a different spell than a charm that transfigured Erik's face into what it had been before he revealed himself.
He opened his eyes and met Hermione's stare. "There's no comparison. You're an inch off the ground, they're a centimeter if you want to keep close to Earth. There's no other that can impress me more than you, so no witch bother try."
McGonagall cleared her throat. "Well, I do hope I impress with my wandwork, my boy," she said dryly as she nodded to the mirror by the cabinet that held the pensieve, and Erik went to examine his face.
He had laugh lines and wrinkles now as well as a natural-looking mole and freckles. His face was normal, unremarkable. And what had been the unfinished work of the student was a masterwork in spellcraft before him. He looked over at Minerva McGonagall and grinned.
She laughed. "Glad I could impress, Mr. Chastaine. You may call me 'Minerva'."
"Erik." Erik held out his hand, completely won over by Hermione's Transfigurative Theory professor.
"That just leaves you, Hermione," said Kingsley, and held out his magical cuffs.
Hermione's mouth dropped open. "What?" she squeaked.
Kingsley said, "Gringotts has decided to press charges for your stunt at the bank. They want you to appear before the Wizengamut to explain yourself regarding the unleashing of their dragon."
Hermione's legs grew weak.
"You've got to be kidding me!" said Minerva.
"Kingsley, that's outrageous!" said Severus Snape, moving to intercept.
Erik stepped between the dark-skinned man and his love. "You will not take her."
"You'll find me resistant to many forms of vocal persuasion, sir," said Kingsley Shacklebolt and gestured to his magical cuffs. "Put them on, Hermione, or I'll do it for you."
Erik tossed his lasso, but with a flick of his wand, Kingsley had the thing floating magically in the air. The dark-skinned wizard nodded. "Just as I thought. Piano wire." He looked over at Hermione. "I kid, Hermione. I just needed to know how far your Victorian muggle will go to protect you." Kingsley studied Erik. "And now I know of what you're capable, and how exactly Voldemort fell. Your voice is quite a weapon if I do say so myself." Kingsley assessed his measure. "If you're looking for a career in law enforcement, one can be yours at my say-so."
Hermione felt weak-kneed and had to sit down. "So, I don't have to appear before the Wizengamut?" she asked softly.
Kingsley made his way over to her and crouched low. "No. Your actions were due to extenuating circumstances beyond your control and will be chocked up to 'a curiosity for the Department of Mysteries' to address. An invitation to join their ranks will soon be in the offing, I'm certain of it."
Hermione gasped, and Kingsley winked at her before looking at Severus. "I'm also to notify you, Minerva, of your demotion once more to deputy headmistress as per the orders of the Ministry of Magic, and your appointment, Severus Snape, is restored you as Headmaster, should you wish it, where you will serve until the end of Summer term, working closely with the Board of Governors to choose and train your replacement during the interim."
Severus looked to Minerva, and she shook her head. "Oh no. Not me, Severus Snape. I don't think so. I don't want it, and I will refuse it. I'm fine remaining Deputy, but the mantel of Headmistress I do not want or need!"
"Welcome to my hell, Minerva," he smiled.
She laughed and said, "Give it to Filius." They both snorted at that.
"Like hell, he'd want it," Severus muttered into his cup.
Kingsley looked between the two curiously. "Why wouldn't he want the position? Being Headmaster is very advantageous and prestigious."
Severus looked at Minerva and Minerva looked at Severus.
She crooked her thumb at Kingsley, "That one there's going to be Minister of Magic," she said and saluted him with her cuppa.
Severus snorted in his own glass and said, "Shacklebolt, you become Minister of Magic, then we'll revisit this conversation in a year, shall we?"
The dark-skinned man grinned, and shaking everyone's hand, finished his drink and left via Hogwarts floo.
"Well," said Minerva, "that's that, I gather. What was decided about who would take credit for killing You-Know-Who?"
"Kingsley said they were going to give Harry the credit of victory and completely gloss over the events surrounding the demise of his Resurrected form. No one's asked too many questions so far, relieved only he's gone."
Minerva nodded and asked, "Where will you two be staying if you don't mind me asking?"
"Hogsmeade," answered Hermione.
"Here in the castle with me," corrected Severus. "The castle's visitor's quarters are more than enough to house them. Hermione is going to apprentice with me, Erik, and Filius just as much, I imagine."
McGonagall looked to Hermione. "How many disciplines are you attempting, child?"
Releasing her lip from its vice, she said, "All of them. I'll need to sit my N.E.W.T.s if possible?"
Severus nodded. "Are you prepared for them, apprentice?"
"Other than that question about what to do with a hoard of inferi, yes—"
Severus nodded. "Then, Minerva, see to it Hermione is proctored for all the N.E.W.T.s she wishes to attempt by the end of this week. And apprentice—"
Hermione looked to Severus expectantly.
Severus quirked an ironic smile. "The only answer in that instance is to 'run'."
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Hermione and Erik were shown to separate guest quarters within the castle's visitor's wing that were quite near one another, and Hermione couldn't believe this was her life, once more situated among the day-to-day hustle and bustle of Hogwarts school again. Her room was as large as her room in the Hogwarts' dormitories, but she had her four-poster all to herself, and the color scheme was done in shades of gold, violet, lavender, and black. It was feminine and quite beautiful. The guest quarters were near the aviary, and so, she had quite the view of the surrounding hillside and lake below.
The bell for dinnertime chimed, and finding Erik unpacking in his own room, Hermione and he made their way down the moving staircases towards the Great Hall to Erik's marveling. "All of these paintings able to relate their history, and the history they've witnessed. It lends a whole new lens to the expression 'if these walls could talk, no?" asked Erik with a twinkle in his eye for her.
She nodded. "That would be a fun month's entertainment, going from portrait to portrait and asking after their history and stories they could tell. I bet they have secrets of the castle long forgotten by current Hogwarts students. And ooh, that sounds like a quest, opera ghost," grinned Hermione. She nodded to the staircase they were walking toward. "This one's it. The staircase that took Professor Snape and me to your time."
As one, Erik and she stepped on the stairs and began their journey downward.
"I'm ever grateful for a freak bit of rogue magic that briefly intercepted your dart with mine, Hermione," Erik said, stopping them and giving her a kiss.
"Gross, Granger. Have some control over your livestock," a snide voice said from behind her.
Hermione looked over her shoulder and saw a group of Slytherin seventh year girls behind them on the staircase. Astoria Greengrass and her cronies began crowding around her and Erik as they all sought the landing to the Great Hall.
The squint faced Slytherin girl smirked. "I cannot believe you got clearance to bring a muggle into Hogwarts! It just shows how very lowborn and mudblooded you truly are—"
'Jump and croak like a frog,' the Phantom of the Opera ordered of the witch that addressed his mate so.
Astoria began to do so on a 'ribbit', hopping in place to her friends' mortified horror.
Hermione laughed. "Just like Carlotta. Brilliant, love! Are you going to stop her from hopping, or will your suggestion wear off eventually?"
Erik shrugged. "It's in the strength of the mind. I could not mesmerize Severus' compliance after one time of my mesmerist's tricks. And should you ever be so inclined, I'm sure you, too, could shrug them off easily. Those with lower intellects, however…" And Erik cut his eyes to Astoria who was still continuing to 'ribbit' down the stairs trying to 'hop' after her friends who'd quickly abandoned her.
"In many ways, you've jumped from the frying pan into the fire here, Erik, in facing persecution. We don't have to live here. The Village of Hogsmeade, though a wizarding village, would be more accepting of muggles, and—"
"Hermione, I belong at your side, and if you wish to reside here in Hogwarts, I, too, shall reside here with you. Now, the Great Hall is truly a magnificent wonder to behold." And he gazed up at the celestial ceiling, darkened to reflect the night sky with stars. "It's wonderful!"
Hermione's eyes met Severus', and she saw their places were sat beside him at seats of honor at the high table.
"You are guests of Hogwarts," insisted Minerva McGonagall appearing beside them, "as well as heroes in your own right. Heroes don't sit with their classmates, Hermione. They are elevated above them," she said as she escorted them to their seats.
And Minerva had her look at her table at Gryffindor.
Not many of her year had returned to school to finish. And poor Collin had been one of the few casualties of the battle. The Gryffindor table was quite decimate of her year and the one below her. And, suddenly, Hermione understood what Minerva McGonagall was trying to say.
"I have moved on, haven't I?" she asked.
Minerva nodded. "Precisely, child." She smiled. "Take your seat and enjoy this meal held in your honor as well as that of Mr. Chastaine."
Professor Snape stood and tapped on the table with his wand.
The hall was instantly silent. He addressed them all. "All of you know I'm not one for lengthy speeches. However, I will say it's good to be back among you as your headmaster during a time of peace. Although many of you may look at my presence here with dismay, I'm pleased to inform you all-too-many that I'm to be replaced as Headmaster effective end of this year's term."
There was cheering, mainly from the Gryffindor table, the rest was just silence as the children looked on. Severus nodded to Erik and Hermione. "This feast is held in honor of two guests tonight: Erik Chastaine, a muggle of extraordinary talent and Hermione Granger, your fellow alumnus. Both helped rid the world of evil that plagued it, and both deserve your honor and respect." Severus grinned wickedly, then wiped the smile off his face and said, "Chastaine, show us all of what your capable."
'Young lady, you may cease your hopping,' a voice echoed from all around them, and Hermione laughed, as every eye was directed to Astoria who was by the Slytherin table still 'ribbeting', although the 'hopping' had now ceased. 'Stop the 'croaking' too,' Erik insisted, all without saying a word, or moving his mouth. His voice appeared in the Great Hall as if from everywhere.
Mortified, Astoria quickly took her seat with the other Slytherin Seventh years, ducking her head.
'Everyone under the age of twenty, touch your nose.' The voice sounded like it had come from under the table for each of them, secretive, aloof.
Hermione was compelled to do so on a laugh; she wasn't the only one.
'Now let go of your nose and touch the neighbor to the left of you's nose.' Hermione turned and touched Severus' overlarge proboscis to much laughter from the crowd.
'Now 'honk' it and let go.'
Hermione did so to much laughter from everyone assembled as they all of them followed Erik's instruction explicitly.
'Don't you all feel silly?' asked the Enchanted Ceiling.
"YES!" was roared to the rafters.
'Want me to stop?' asked the Phantom of the Opera of them all.
"NO!" was roared by the overwhelming majority.
Laughter, sweet and lovely burbled up from the head of table and spilled over onto each of the tables in the Great Hall. Severus waved his wand, and suddenly they were all laughing as the feast began.
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Erik snuck into her bedroom a moment before 'lights out'. Professor Snape entered her room via the floo, already in his black satin robe.
She was dressed in her baby doll pajamas and shivered in pleasure as the two of them pinned her between them in an embrace.
The three of them sighed.
"It's been a long day, has it not?" asked Severus, his cheek pressed to Hermione's head. She hugged him and nodded, wriggling her bum behind her against Erik's burgeoning erection.
"We need do nothing more than sleep," said Erik, his tone even.
Hermione turned so she was in his arms. "Take me to bed, maestro," she ordered. "I packed the oil from your kitchen, Erik, and you'll find it already prepared on the nightstand.
"Mistress," led Severus, "kneeling before her and drawing her barely clothed quim into his mouth, kissing her above the fabric.
Erik's hands made quick work of every stitch she was wearing until she was nude before them. Severus shed his robe and Erik his clothes until they were nude together, and Severus was lifting and placing her 'just so' on the bed so her legs dangled off the edge.
"Top or bottom, Chastaine?" asked Severus.
"Bottom," said Erik knowingly, licking his lips.
"We'll duel for it for I wish to taste my apprentice this night as well."
"Oh? And what's your preference?" asked Erik drolly. "Your wand versus my card games?"
Severus looked at him like he was dense. "Stone, parchment, scissors, you Victorian relic."
Hermione laughed to Erik's realization, and together her men 'dueled' for the honor of servicing her. She bit her lip, entirely invested in the outcome.
Professor Snape won by 'parchment' to Erik's disbelief. And then she was being told to lie back as her professor knelt between her parted thighs.
He began to sup, and suddenly Erik was in her line of sight, watching as this intimate task was being performed for her, and Erik looked at her knowingly. 'I know something our Severus doesn't as regards your release, angel,' said Erik via ventriloquism just for her hearing alone.
Hermione's eyes widened as her attention was pulled from concentrating on Severus to listening to Erik.
He continued, 'Release for you is cerebral. Oh, he can lick and lave all he wants with his artful, wicked tongue, angel, but unless I relinquish your attention, so you can seize control of your release, you will not be released. And oh, what a wicked game we'll play between the three of us with Severus attending you so lovingly in such a way, giving you little sups and licks in such a forbidden kiss to see your pleasure climb, and me providing a metered commentary that will see you driven mad with yearning until you're begging to be filled in order to attain the release you crave from both your masters.'
Hermione moaned piteously, her legs beginning to shake. Professor Snape stretched his jaw, popping it, and went back down for more.
'Even still,' Erik continued, 'he doesn't know yet the game I play, toying with you both, making it to where you're unable to focus, even though you really want to focus on your professor's gentle kiss, do you not?'
"Yes," she moaned piteously.
'What's your safe word, angel, and I'll stop?' requested Erik.
She shook her head. Her legs violently quaking. Severus had to stop for air. His eyes narrowed as he looked between Erik, who had an all-too-innocent expression on his face, and a desperately wanting apprentice on the cusp of finding release and yet not attaining it.
He went back down for more.
She cried out, almost begging now.
'Oh, no, no, no,' laughed Erik. 'Not yet, my radiant one. Not yet. Focus on me, on the calm cadence of my words. Your blood will quicken if you focus on Severus and his artful tongue, but can you, I wonder, with one such as me whispering 'sweet nothings' in your ear as you try to focus…"
She whimpered.
Erik smiled. 'You will be soothed, only if you say those two… magic…words for release. And your professor is trying so… very… hard to get you there!'
"Two-quince!" Hermione yelled to the rafters, and then she was reaching for Professor Snape's amazed face, covered in the traces of his efforts, kissing the passion from his tongue and demanding Erik coat her in oil and mount her immediately.
Erik laughed in glee and proceeded to do as demanded, positioning himself at her back entrance, and slipping inside.
She came, her release a deafening cry in the bedroom as she shivered and shook due to her phantom's tricks.
"What the hell, Chastaine?" Severus said disbelieving as Erik and Hermione began to move together in a lover's rhythm.
"Ooh," Hermione groaned, utterly lost and reaching for Severus, parting her legs to allow him access to her front.
Erik looked knowingly at Severus and smirked as he continued to roll his hips.
Severus snorted at his antics, and knowing she was more than ready for him, Severus dipped the head of him inside her eager warmth, abutting against his brother's concern already so deep within her. He lifted her heels to his shoulders, and as one, the three of them began to move with Severus plunging in and out of her, inch by delectable inch. And Hermione could not restrain her cries as the two of them pleasured her to the hilt, moving in and out as one in a well-choreographed ballet.
Hermione was lost to sensation. Her release with Erik having led to a never-ending tide of pleasure. She reached in front of her, blindly, for Severus, and behind her for Erik's nape, and she held on tight as they gave her the ride of her life.
The Frenchman found release first within her depths, and Severus followed along soon after. And just as before, once he'd recovered, Severus helped the two of them roll free of one another and clean themselves up, falling in an exhausted heap together upon Hermione's bed.
Wandlessly, Severus adjusted the bedclothes around the three of them.
Hermione whispered 'nox', and the light was extinguished from the room.
Hermione lay cuddled between her two men, and it was Severus, this time, that had his hand on Chastaine's bicep as they went to sleep.
She kissed them both in the darkness, then said, "Goodnight. I love you both," in the silence to follow.
"I love you both as well," admitted Erik. "Pleasant dreams."
Severus admitted nothing, but he did squeeze Chastaine's shoulder where he held him, and he nuzzled Hermione's neck where his face lay beside hers.
"Sleep, mon frère,' the phantom ordered of him, and with his name finally cleared and family together gathered at home, Severus slept the best sleep of his life.
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Hermione awoke alone in her bed in the early morning light. There was a piece of parchment on the nightstand accompanied by a potion.
Apprentice,
Don't find yourself too disappointed upon waking to discover yourself alone in your bed. I assure you, Chastaine and I've disappointment enough between us, but appearances must be paid, and so we play the game.
You'll find this rejuvenation potion tailored specifically for you waiting to be taken every morning now upon waking. It's for your health as well as to eliminate any unwanted concern involving the three of us and our fun. Shower and change for the day ahead. Erik and I'll be waiting for you in the Headmaster's office where we'll journey to breakfast together.
Minerva will have your timetable for your N.E.W.T.s.
Yours,
S. Snape
Sniffing Erik's rose as she rose for the day, Hermione downed the pale pink potion in one go, liking the taste of apple and pear. Suddenly the gentle aches from last night eased and then went away entirely, and she grinned.
It was worth it to be dating a potions master.
Quickly, she showered and changed, paying attention to her reflection only sparingly. Still, the happiness that glowed from her was unmistakable, and when Erik laid eyes on her in the Headmaster's office, he whispered. "Angel, you're glowing this morning."
She grinned, "So I am, Erik. I'm at peace." She looked at Severus and gestured he should come over and join them. Severus did, and she drew him in the circle of her arms. "We can make this work, can't we?" she asked. "This thing between the three of us?"
Severus looked at Erik, and Erik looked at Severus, then Hermione. Erik said, "I go where you go, angel, and I think I know our potion master's mind on things. You're ours, and we're yours."
"We're one another's," corrected Severus, looking at Chastaine. "I know of no better family than a family of misfits that cares for one another."
Hermione nodded, but then her smile grew sad. "Do you think I've permanently canceled my parents out of my life, Severus?" she asked.
"I think we need to collect them from Australia this summer and see. I'm not going to rule anything out for certain, and you've got an entire Spring term of lessons to complete. Are you ready to sit your N.E.W.T.s? They will be proctored by each of us in our subjects, starting today."
Her eyes widened. "But I thought you said Minerva had my timetable for revision—" she led distantly.
Severus smirked. "I lied. You'll be taking four today and three tomorrow. Transfiguration is your first, so get going to breakfast, apprentice. You don't want to miss it."
"Oh-ho, Snape," crooned Erik, "if looks could kill, you'd be dead and viciously so."
"And yet, my apprentice is still standing here, wasting time, tick-tock…." said Severus with a vicious smirk.
Right then, the bell tolled the hour, and Hermione knew she was going to have to 'floo' to Binn's classroom near the Great Hall for some breakfast in order to meet Professor McGonagall on time.
With a 'pop' kiss for them both, she floo'd from the Headmaster's office leaving a bemused Severus and enchanted Erik in her wake.
Severus looked to Chastaine. "What do you want to do with yourself now, Chazza?"
"I've read accountings… doesn't this place have a library?" asked Erik.
Professor Snape snorted and said, "Follow me." And together, Headmaster Snape introduced Erik to the wonders of the Hogwarts Library, and Madam Pince made him welcome with a cup of 'bottomless' tea and several old tomes about the history of the school, magic itself, and the wild magic found within the hills surrounding the castle.
Severus left the Frenchman to a morning of it, promising to 'pop' by to escort him to lunch where they'd meet Hermione. And then Severus turned himself to the mantel and woes of being Hogwarts Headmaster again, beginning the gristmill of paperwork that Minerva put off on the backburner just for this purpose.
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Hermione looked at the first years in Professor McGonagall's transfiguration class. "Class, we've got a special guest today," said Minerva. "Hermione Granger, many of you know her as the best friend to one Harry Potter, is here to attain her N.E.W.T. in transfigurative theory."
There were about twenty or so first years gathered to watch her, and Hermione swallowed thickly and waved to them all. No pressure.
"This shall be educational for you all, for this is the standard of excellence to which I expect you all to excel in seven years' time." So saying, Minerva nodded at Hermione and told her to begin warming up by transfiguring the metal tea kettle on her desk into a garden chair.
Hermione began her work at once to the disbelieving looks of those who watched. The children began to ask Professor McGonagall questions, of which she asked Hermione to answer as she worked.
Hermione did so, explaining, "Metal is a good medium to work with. It's durable, pliable, and doesn't fracture easily. You can't make a sturdy garden chair out of, say, a piece of parchment, although you could easily do so with the right cut of wood." She performed her sequence of spells exactly, and a perfectly-executed garden chair sat in front of them all.
Minerva sat in it, pleased. "Perfect, Miss Granger. Full marks. Now, change that door nail," she pointed to the common nail on her desk, "to a dormouse."
With a tap of her wand, and a murmured incantation, Hermione did so, the steel-gray thing with its pink nose and whiskers raised up on its hindlegs, and taking a sniff around the classroom, it scurried to Professor McGonagall for inspection.
"Multiply him by three," proctored Minerva.
Hermione did so with a wave of her wand, and Professor McGonagall reached for one of the mice and drew it up to her eyes. She cut her eyes over to Hermione. "Give each of my students a mouse to take with them, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall ordered.
Hermione shook her head. "I'm afraid that's an impossibility, professor. I can multiply our dormouse by three. But there are over twenty of you here, and the door nail is not sturdy enough to withstand that many multiplications and transfigurations without sacrificing the integrity of the metal."
McGonagall nodded her head. "Correct, Miss Granger. Full marks. And a mouse to anyone who can answer the question, 'What do metal mice eat?'
Hermione bit her lip, already knowing the answer.
A clever Ravenclaw answered, "They don't. Transfigured mice aren't hungry and do not thirst. They make ideal pets but provide no nutritional supplement upon ingestion. It would be like eating air to eat one."
Hermione winced and said, "Not quite like air." But she handed one of the mice to the girl.
"Explain, Miss Granger," nodded Professor McGonagall.
Hermione lectured, "I can end the spell. With a simple 'finite incantatem', the mouse has reverted back to an ordinary nail. In many ways, transfiguration is just like smoke and mirrors. All form and no substance." She compared the ordinary nail she now held to her remaining transfigured mouse.
"Turn the nail into a metal tea kettle, Hermione," ordered Professor McGonagall knowingly.
With a wave of her wand, Hermione did so easily.
"Now, turn the kettle to a garden chair," bid Minerva.
On a laugh, and to everyone's cheering amusement, she did so.
"You see, children," Minerva said knowingly, "for lack of want of a nail, Hermione Granger has manufactured a kettle to brew her some tea, a place to sit, and a companion for which to keep her entertained. There's no telling to what bounds you can stretch your imagination and be just like Hermione here, able to perform feats of extraordinary transfigurative magic, if you but first apply yourself to your studies and learn. Now, who among you is going to try for 'Outstanding' in your future transfigurative N.E.W.T., and achieve it just like our Hermione Granger did here today?" asked Minerva to the class.
They all of them cheered, and Hermione laughed, relieved her first N.E.W.T. was complete.
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It became a game for her professors, showing off her knowledge to the younger years. Professor Snape and Erik, upon being made aware of the sport, sat in on the rest of her N.E.W.T.s to Hermione's embarrassment and pride.
She'd fought a Venomous tentaculas plant and collected its valuable leaves, all without receiving a scratch.
She'd faced a Whienderstein Bat out of the Forbidden Forest and had stood her ground in Defense, not showing an ounce of fear in the face of its abject horror and frightening mien. She was given a glimpse of her death in the future for her trouble. She chose not to look at the vision too closely, although she did look very old, and that brought comfort.
She'd brewed Draught of the Living Death in under an hour using the tips and tricks she'd learned from Harry and the Half-blood Prince so long ago, to Professor Slughorn's approval and Professor Snape's disdain. Upon Professor Slughorn pronouncing it 'perfect', she looked over at her old potions professor and beamed.
He rolled his eyes.
And then there was Charms.
Professor Flitwick hadn't made it easy for her. He'd told her he was interviewing her during her N.E.W.T.s for a position as his apprentice in charmwork, and was looking for her to have a spark of creativity as well as 'synthesis' in what she'd learned over the years.
He'd run her through her paces in performing the more mediocre spellwork all the way to the inspired of having her charm a lightning storm above them while snow blew in drifts at their feet.
And as Erik, Professor Snape, and Filius watched, Hermione charmed the jar of floo powder beside the classroom fireplace and bid Erik come over. She explained, "This, by all rights, shouldn't work for you, Erik. You're muggle and can't travel via floo, or so it's thought. However, my charmwork is going to mask that, and you're going to be able to travel as safely as I do through the floo."
"Explain your theory, Miss Granger," exclaimed Professor Flitwick intrigued. "The idea has merit, and as muggles are allowed within the wizarding world so rarely, there's not been much of a necessity for such a thing as 'charmed floo powder' for them."
She gestured to Erik and nodded. "While witches and wizards are magical beings, it's the floo powder that's magic as is the connecting floo. The witch or wizard using it calls out the destination. That's the sum of magic being performed by the wizard or witch. My being born a witch protects me from the wall of flame, and with a sprinkling of floo powder, I cannot be burned."
She nodded to the floo powder she'd charmed. "I've charmed this powder to work on anything—both mundane and magical. A fine dusting of this specific powder and, Erik, you can walk from this lit fireplace to any other in Hogwarts. All you have to do is declare your destination clearly and walk through."
Professor Flitwick looked between Erik and Hermione intrigued.
Erik looked towards Severus, and Severus nodded for him to go on.
Hermione sprinkled a dusting of powder on his head, and Erik winced as he felt it slither and crunch down the back of his collar. He looked at the empty grate.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
"Where do I ask to go?" he asked her, his voice sounding only a little hesitant.
"The fireplace in my office. It's unused at present." Professor Flitwick gestured to the office to the back of his classroom. With a wave of his wand, Professor Flitwick opened the door.
"Nothing will go wrong, will it?" Erik asked her uncertainly, looking between the unlit grate and his love.
"Have some faith in me, Erik," she countered.
He grinned, and touching her chin, he decided, "I'd walk through fire for you, Hermione. 'Filius Flitwick's office'," Erik called out clearly and then stepped within the grate.
As opposed to a green ember, the fire flared ruby and gold due to her spell, and Erik was disappearing through the floo.
"Erik?" she called out immediately, only to find him in the doorway to Professor Flitwick's office, unscathed, and covered in a fine dusting of soot with a winning smile for her.
Cheers abounded.
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Her last N.E.W.T. in arithmancy was impressive for none other but her and Professor Vector. As Professor Vector had explained to the class, "There's no way to make arithmancy more interesting than to practice it yourself."
And Professor Vector left Hermione to her, and the rest of the class, to their equations and had a long talk with Erik regarding upper-level muggle mathematics versus advanced arithmantic theory, and both came away from the exchange respecting the knowledge of the other.
Hermione double-then triple-checked her final answers, putting down her quill and parchment, and looked around.
This was it.
Her final exam question administered within these hallowed halls.
Inexplicably, she felt herself begin to tear up, and then she looked up to find Erik studying her, a pensive expression on his face.
She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and grinned sunnily, passing the parchment to Professor Vector to grade.
A few minutes later, she said, "Outstanding, Hermione. Full marks. I'm to understand I'm the last in your academic career here, aren't I?" she asked.
Hermione nodded.
"And what do you plan to do with yourself, now you've attained 'outstanding' in all the N.E.W.T.s you attempted?" she asked.
Hermione answered truthfully. "I haven't narrowed it to just one discipline, professor."
"Call me 'Elektra'. I insist." She grinned. "You've a talent for numbers and for synthesis. Filius is apprenticing you as is your muggle friend here and Professor Snape. Did I hear that right in the scuttlebutt?" she asked.
Hermione nodded.
"I want to throw my hat in the ring."
Hermione's eyebrows rose to her hairline. "The Department of Mysteries has been in contact with me regarding you, and if you were to be recruited, you'd need a sound basis in upper-level arithmantic theory as well as Charms and Potions. This is the 'big leagues' as the muggle expression goes." She grinned, and Hermione remembered that Professor Vector was muggleborn just like her. "I'm not going to pressure you to add more to your plate. Filius will want you for a year more, I'm certain. But afterwards." She shrugged. "You've plenty of time to decide ahead where your passion lies, but I am going to dangle this little jewel in front of you, and see if you can intuit what it means." And Professor Vector gave her a plain lacquered jewel box no bigger than the palm of her hand.
Upon first examination, it had no seams.
Hermione looked at her professor curiously.
"You're this box, Hermione," her professor illustrated. "There's no telling what secrets lie within you. You've got to be clever, and you've got to do the work, and if you do that, then the box will open and grant you and those around you all manner of gifts to be used at your discretion and whim."
Professor Vector looked at her knowingly and tapped the box with her index finger. "But you've got to be wary… for as much hope as this box contains so, too, does it contain a pound of worry and trouble, and it's your job as one of discernment. Arithmancy helps with indecision and discernment. You're stuck. Do the work." She tapped the box. "Now, take your pandora's box and go, Hermione. No longer a student, and no longer mine to advise…" Professor Vector grinned, "for now."
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Severus and Erik made love to her slowly that night, each treating her with reverence and care.
There was not a word that passed between them, just gentle sighs and artful touches determined to see her enjoy herself due to their skill. They both denied themselves release to see to her own, and sated and exhausted, Hermione fell into a bliss-filled sleep.
Upon waking, she found a pink rose still wet with dew upon the pillow where Erik slept, and her phial of potion on the side table besides Severus' side of the bed with a note.
Apprentice,
Dress for drudgery today. This will be a lesson in finding beauty and grace in the task at hand.
Severus Snape, potioneering laureate
Hermione did as her professor instructed and dressed in ancient dungarees, a bra that had seen better days, and her oldest jumper, finding him already with Erik in his private potion's lab before breakfast.
Professor Snape locked and warded the door then drew her in his arms. "Good morning, apprentice." His eyes were warm with regard for her. "How did you sleep?"
"As well as you and Erik intended."
Erik stepped behind her, and Hermione turned in Severus' arms to embrace her phantom. "We knew you had to be exhausted due to your battery of tests. We didn't want to demand anything from you further."
She kissed him sweetly, and Erik sighed, his entire being relaxing into hers. Hermione leaned back against Professor Snape, and lowering his head, her professor kissed her neck behind her ear. "You came dressed to work, yes?" he asked her lowly, nuzzling her neck with his nose.
She nodded into Erik's neck.
"Good," Severus Snape said lowly, and he kissed her neck deeply, leaving a love mark, and she groaned, kissing Erik's neck and making him shiver. Severus broke away from them both, and Erik reluctantly released her. "You're helping me clean out my private potions stores today, and we're going to begin a meticulous catalogue of my ingredients. I've noticed you're less than studious at recording your results if the result you have is the intended one. Your reporting previously has been enough to get you passable marks, but do not think such minimal work is going to continue here and now. When you go your own way and blaze your own trail regarding innovation and experimentation in potioncraft, your notes need to be meticulous. Your storeroom inventory, likewise, must be meticulous."
"How come when I hear you say the word 'meticulous', I inwardly want to cringe?" asked Hermione, following her professor to his personal potion's storeroom.
It was a haberdashed mess, and she didn't realize, honestly, that she'd been used to working in Albus' Last Resort, or the kitchen at Erik's place where things were catalogued and sorted meticulously for her already. This was just… madness.
She looked up at him. "Where do I begin?" she asked, looking around.
Professor Snape gestured to the row furthest from the door. "Why not work towards freedom, apprentice?" asked Professor Snape.
"Remember," said Erik, "I'll be right beside you, and I expect a measure of beauty and grace to flow from each action you take upon these shelves. I'll help you, angel. You're not alone in this behemoth task."
Severus snorted. "Chastaine is going to catalogue while you clean and inspect. Toss what needs to be discarded and think of a potion you've always wanted to brew, and I'll allow you to brew it with me as your guide for your reward of a job well done in seeing to this most necessary task." Severus gave Erik a penetrating look. "The three of us have our fun at night, but a potions storeroom where lots of volatile ingredients are kept is no place for any kind of amorous pursuit. Do you both understand?"
"Of course," answered Hermione, appearing sober.
Erik nodded his head and took up his quill and parchment.
Hermione reached for the closest canopic jar, she read the faded label and knocking off the dust, coughed and said, "Desiccated rat spleens."
She performed a bubble-head charm for herself, and then cleaned the dust off the jar and peered within. With a wave of his wand, Severus 'popped' her bubble and shook his head. "Incorrect, apprentice. That restricts one of your most valuable senses as a potioneer: your sense of smell. How are you to know the spleens have gone off, if but first you don't smell them?"
She winced.
He waved his wand, and the jar was held in stasis. "There. No dust or particulate will stir as you open the lid."
Hermione did so and immediately gagged. "They're off. Christ! They're off!" She banished them with a wave of her wand and looked at her professor with loathing.
Professor Snape smiled. "Stasis, inspect, clean, count, record, and organize faithfully every single ingredient, apprentice. And once we've done this, you'll be teaching the younger years how to do it for the students' stores."
"Raising the bar, master?" she asked, heaving the next cask-like jar over to Erik to inspect and catalogue.
Severus came behind her and turned her to face him. "With you here, apprentice? I've no choice but to do so," and dipping low, he gave her a sweet kiss before leaving them to their work for a meeting with the Board of Governors regarding his replacement.
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A/N: Thank you for your follows and favorites. Cheers!—Lora