Stranger Things

by loradannon

What could happen when an ordinary muggle book and an extraordinary magical artifact interact in Hermione's beaded bag? Why, how about being sent back to Paris, 1881, of course! Severus Snape and Hermione Granger in a time-turner accident during the most important battle in Hogwarts' history. ExHGxSS Drama/Romance/Suspense Rated: 'M' This is a ménage à trois and cross-over phic.

7. A Visit to the Infirmary

Ch. 7— A Visit to the Infirmary

.

.

.

Halfway through their catalogue and cleaning of Severus Snape's private potions stores, a student appeared in the doorway with an announcement. "Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, and Ronald Weasley are here, Miss Granger and Mr. Chastaine," said the little third year. "Headmaster Snape wondered if you'd like to take a break in your task and come see your friends?"

Hermione looked at Erik.

Erik nodded. "Of course."

The student nodded. "He said go to the Quidditch Pitch; that's where Harry's at." And the Gryffindor student walked on down the hall.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course, that's where Harry would be."

"What's this Quidditch?" asked Erik.

She groaned. "Oh, Lord. I can see you're going to love it. Severus, too, because he's a coach. He can explain it better than I can. Not because I don't understand the mechanics of the sport but because I quickly lose interest."

"Oh, my. I don't think I've ever known you to be blasé about any topic under the sun besides the one currently under discussion," said Erik, walking outside the castle with her and enjoying the fresh spring air.

"You just don't understand. Everyone I know is obsessed with the game—positively enchanted by it. For myself, you put little balls in holes, inflict damage on your opponent through violence, and win, largely based on chance and luck—"

"Hey now," called Harry from his broom on the pitch, "you wouldn't be telling Erik about the noble pursuit of Quidditch, now would you, Hermione?"

Hermione looked over to find Erik had an open-mouthed expression on his face as he watched Harry in flight.

"I've never seen such a sight," he said honestly as they watched Harry gracefully fly through the air.

For herself, Hermione tried to see the magic in what Erik saw. It was a gorgeous day for quidditch, she had to admit. The wind was crisp for a spring day where the sun was out, warming everything it touched, and everything was so green and inviting, all freshly bloomed and uncovered from the last snowfall of the season. The birds were chirping, and the players around them were so happy to be out and playing free.

It was a normal, beautiful day.

Hermione closed her eyes, and drew a deep, relaxed breath, letting the beauty of the day fill her. 'There you are, my angel,' said Erik to her with his ventriloquism. 'Seeing you take a moment to enjoy yourself; that's such a beautiful sight!'

Her heart sped in love for him at that moment.

"Ever seen a quidditch game played, Erik, mate?" asked Harry, dropping to a graceful landing beside Hermione for a hug. Wrinkling her nose, for he already was ripe from exertion, Hermione hugged him back.

Suddenly, a streak of red, shot past them, flying high, and then Ginny Weasley was flying in tight circles straight for Harry, and Erik shoved them both to the side to avoid the red-headed menace as she dove straight for her intended, laughing, and knocking Harry to his bum as he was straddled by her.

She held up the golden snitch. "Caught the snitch, flyboy," she said and wriggled her hips suggestively.

"Ginny, we are not alone," said Harry, gesturing to Hermione and Erik beside them. Ginny looked up, unrepentant. "Hullo," she greeted, rolling off her mate and drawing him to his feet.

"So, you play this sport, too, do you?" asked Erik with interest looking between the red-head and the broom she held.

"Ginny's been recruited by the Holyhead Harpies," said Harry proudly. "They're an all-female professional team. I can explain Quidditch, but honestly, it's best just to watch and learn." Harry looked to Hermione. "You didn't bring a book?" he asked, disbelieving.

Hermione shook her head. "I never thought I'd get the chance to see you play a quidditch match again, Harry. Believe me, my attention's going to be on this game."

Harry grinned; the both of them laughed.

"You brought him, did you?" a surly voice said as Ron, in his quidditch captain gear, landed roughly behind them.

Hermione ignored him and said, "Is Luna here as well?" she asked, looking around for her blond friend.

Ginny nodded. "She's visiting Hagrid. Her father's not doing well, Hermione, and she's having to care for him. Mom's helping as much as she can, but with dad…" Ginny shrugged. "The magical creatures, seeing them and spending time with them and Hagrid, will do her some good."

Hermione nodded and arms were grasping around her waist from behind as she fought to pull away. "What? No hug for a friend, 'mi?" asked Ron as he grasped for her and tried to draw her in his arms.

She pushed him away.

Erik came between them. "Your advances are unwanted, boy." His expression was lethal. "Keep crossing bounds and having expectations of Miss Granger that are unwarranted and see where it gets you."

Ron scoffed and gestured to his wand. "Yeah, and what's a muggle like yourself gonna do?"

"Ron, don't!" said Hermione, trying to draw Erik away. "Do not antagonize Erik. That's a bad idea!"

Only Ginny seemed to take this warning to heart as she tried to pull Ron back.

Once more, Ron brushed away Hermione's words, and his sister's well-meaning attempt to diffuse the situation, reaching for her. "Are we still friends, Hermione?" he asked, upset when she moved once more out of his grasp.

"At this moment, Ronald," Hermione shook her head, pulling Erik with her towards the quidditch stands, "with you acting so disagreeable, I'd say not."

Ron followed along with Harry and Ginny. "You're being right uppity these days, 'mione, and I don't care for the change," the youngest Weasley son insisted.

Hermione sniffed but said nothing.

"Yeah," Ron nodded. "It's true. You're hangin' around the Greasy Git and this muggle, and it's changed you. Made you colder, less likeable."

Hermione looked behind her at Ron and said, "I'm becoming the person I've always wanted to become, and it's now clear more than ever that you do not want to give me room to grow to become that person. So, why do you still want my friendship, Ronald?" she asked.

"Cut the shite, 'mi," he insisted, narrowing his eyes at her. "You and I have unfinished business between us, and no amount of you telling me 'I've moved on' is going to lessen that."

She shook her head. "I pity you; I really do." She turned her back on him and focused on Erik. She noticed Erik's wrist was poised at the ready, ready to strike if necessary as he studied Ronald, not taking his eyes from him.

Harry tried to pull Ron away. Ron continued to follow them, plotting what he was going to say next, and Hermione saw Ron's hand hover over his wand as he watched Erik, especially Erik's wrist. And she saw what Ron meant to do a moment before he did it.

"No, Ron!" she screamed and shoved Erik out of the way right as Ron cast a constriction curse that would've sliced Erik's arm and wrist clean through due to the Punjab lasso wrapped around it. Instead, Ron's curse hit her in the chest center, and she shrieked, folding down in pain as her oldest bra and its underwire cut clean through to score the tender flesh of her ribcage to the bone.

"Hermione!" Ron roared, pointing his wand at Erik. "This is your fault!" he yelled as she buckled to the ground in agony. "That curse was meant for you!"

"I'll get Madam Pomfrey," Harry said, and he was streaking through the air towards the school on his broom. Meanwhile, Hermione screamed as Ginny bent to examine her friend, and a crowd of Quidditch fliers swirled and landed around them.

Erik's lasso flew, except it didn't aim to disarm any longer, and Ron fell to his knees, his wand tumbled to the dirt from numb fingers as he clutched his neck, tears falling from his bulging, bloodshot eyes as he stared into the remorseless eyes of the Angel of Death.

"I warned you, boy," Erik said softly.

Ginny looked up from Hermione's screaming and was arrested by the sight of her brother about to meet his death.

"Please," Ginny said softly. "Oh, please, don't. He deserves to pay for hurting her, but please don't kill him!" Ginny pled for her brother's life.

"Hey now, wot's all this, then?" asked Hagrid, coming to the pitch and quickly making his way towards them.

Hermione was panting and crying on the ground, trying to find relief from the underwired threatening to cut her ribcage in two.

"Merlin! Hermione!" Hagrid lifted her up, sparing not a glance for the tableau regarding the Phantom and his prey.

Ginny couldn't look away. "Please," she begged for her brother's life; she dare not reach for the man that had her brother at his mercy.

Erik drew the wire he held taut, and Ron's eyes bulged wide as his complexion began to turn purple. And then the Phantom was screaming in his face, bursting Ron's eardrums with percussive noise. The noose disappeared from around Ron's throat and wound up Erik's sleeve as Erik said, "Later, boy," to a deafened Ron and began following the half-giant back to the castle with a crying, moaning Hermione in tow.

Madam Pomfrey met them on the lower landing, and after removing Hermione's jacket, the Hogwarts' nurse did a diagnostic charm and shrieked when she realized what had happened, tearing through Hermione's robes, she banished the bra.

Hermione fainted.

.

.

.

Hermione came back to consciousness to find she was in the hospital wing with Professor Snape, Madam Pomfrey, and Erik talking low amongst themselves. She'd been given pain potion as well as been bandaged from the top of her breasts to just above her navel, and Hermione closed her eyes once more on a groan.

"I'm to understand you saved my hand, mademoiselle, with your quick thinking and bodily sacrifice." Erik's tone said he disapproved her choice.

She opened one eye and said irritably, "Better I be maimed than you lose your ability to create, Erik." And wincing at the pain, she reached up for and held the hand she saved.

"Mr. Weasley has notified the Aurors of the incident regarding Mr. Chastaine's weapon," reported Madam Pomfrey disapprovingly at the Frenchman.

"And his unauthorized use of a shrinking charm aimed at Erik's hand wrapped in wire? What of that?" Hermione asked.

"He says that was accidental," said Professor Snape, his tone one of doubt.

"The hell it was," said Hermione, not trying to move because to do so hurt fiercely. "He admitted 'the curse' was for Erik; I remember him saying that much." She groaned as she tried to sit up. "How bad is it, madam?" she asked the school nurse.

Madam winced for her. "To the bone in spots, dear. The constriction spell on your bra acted as an iron maiden a la Mr. Poe to the tender skin at your back and underneath your breasts. I'm afraid you're going to spend a rather uncomfortable night here, and we'll have to cover you in murtlap and essence of dittany for days to prevent the scarring to come."

Hermione nodded and breathed through the burning, agonizing pain that pain potion was only just numbing.

"Isn't there something more you can do for her?" asked Erik. "She's clearly still in pain."

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "She's been given as much pain relief potion as well as a numbing and sanitizing unguent in the bandages as we can safely give her. Her tender skin has been sawed through."

Hermione winced at that graphic depiction, and she felt the evidence of it keenly.

Professor Snape drawled, "Apprentice, look at me."

Her eyes bright with pain, Hermione met her master's stare. "Would you change what you did?" he asked her.

"No, sir," she said immediately.

"And do you consider this a consequence of your rather heroic act?" asked Professor Snape.

She nodded, miserable.

"Brave Gryffindor you are, you've no one to blame for your predicament but yourself, apprentice, and you will deal with the consequences of your actions the best way you know how by self-soothing and using occlumentic discipline, yes?" asked Professor Snape.

Hermione grit her jaw and shut her eyes. "Yes, master."

"Not good enough, Snape!" Erik insisted.

Hermione breathed deep and concentrated on occluding away the pain. She found her center outside of it, and focusing, began to relax. Her breathing grew deeper and more even as she did so.

"How are you, apprentice?" asked Professor Snape knowingly.

"Better, master," she said without opening her eyes.

"You will stay like that, resting and occluding the pain for the next few hours until we administer a sleeping draught. Chastaine will stay with you, and I'm sure he'll find a way to make the time you spend recovering a diversion for you both. Your friends want to see you, including Mr. Weasley," Severus ended evenly.

Hermione embraced the pain, and opening her eyes, met Severus' stare. "You tell that self-centered, spineless arsehole we're through, and he's dead to me." She winced, the pain she was feeling exquisite. "As for Harry, Ginny, and Luna," she shook her head. "I don't want them seeing me like this. Just tell Harry I'll meet with him next week, and though uncomfortable, it's not as bad as Dolohov. He'll know what that means."

"I shall see it done, mistress," said Severus, and her eyes met his. His were soft with concern for her.

She pursed her lips, dearly wanting to reach for him, but not daring to a.) cause herself more pain by moving or b.) risk upsetting the tentative cover between the three of them and the rest of the school.

Professor Snape took care of her indecision by crouching low in pretext of checking her vitals and running his fingertips along her bare clavicle. She shivered in pleasure.

"That's the spirit," Severus told her knowingly, caressing her cheek outside of Madam Pomfrey's sightline. "I'll be back later on tonight, Hermione."

Severus squeezed Erik's shoulder. "Time to be your entertaining self, Chastaine, while I tap-dance our way through the political shitstorm of you having once again bested a wizard, this time on the quidditch pitch."

"You don't have to sound so gleeful about it, Severus," Madam Pomfrey tsk'd Severus as he left, bustling over to Hermione. "Here. You're of age, and I hate to see someone in pain when a little tipple can make it right, so drink up, Miss Granger. A little spirits, in addition to the potion, will do you good."

Hermione examined the mug, and then took a drink of the beverage Madam Pomfrey held to her lips. She gulped on a wincing burn, her eyes flying to the matron who just shrugged and waved airily, passing Erik the cup of spirits and busying herself with another task across the room.

Erik sniffed the cup. "What's this?" he asked, taking a small sip.

"Strawberries, cherries, and an angel's kiss in spring, opera ghost," Hermione sniffed and licked her lips, nodding she'd like another tipple.

Erik gave it to her, and she sighed, feeling warm and floaty all of a sudden. "I can't feel my nose. Thank the gods!" said Hermione in relief. She looked over at Erik to find him studying her with a frown.

"What is it, Erik?" she asked.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, his tone final.

"I weighed the alternative, and the alternative was you losing your dominant hand to that unforgiving catgut you use, and I find the pain I'm experiencing now to be worth the thought of you still continuing to play skillfully on your violin, or draw, or paint, or create architecture, or smelt cauldrons."

Erik studied the hand she saved. "This appendage is yours now. I hope you know that. Bought and paid for by your pain and quick thinking."

She grinned. "Ooh, while I do consider your hand a valuable appendage," she said lowly, "it's not the one of yours I most truly want to master." She giggled, her head beginning to swim with the spirits and the potion she'd been given.

Erik gave her another drink.

"Oh," insisted Erik, his voice laden with desire for her, "that was yours from the moment you saw me our first night in the treehouse, Hermione, my love."

She grinned, not bothering to open eyes that suddenly felt so heavy.

'Sleep angel,' Erik ordered. 'I'll be watching over you the whole day and night through.'

.

.

.

Madam Pomfrey woke her up to give her more potion to drink, and when that wasn't enough, a little tipple. And before Hermione knew it, it was night, and Severus had joined Erik in the hospital wing with their dinner, brought up by a house elf.

She dozed as they played game after game of wizard's chess, and when she woke again, she found it was the middle of the night and Severus was asleep, but Erik was awake and studying her.

Wincing, for the pain potion had worn off by now, she raised her hand out for Erik to take. Leaning forward, he did so, his hands holding hers between them as he kissed her palmy flesh. "I'm to give you more potion, angel, as well as sing you to sleep. Any requests?" he asked.

She nodded. "My Favorite Things from the Sound of Music. You said you know it."

"I do. Drink," he ordered.

She did so, and the phantom of the opera began to serenade her to both Severus Snape, who was not in fact sleeping, and Madam Pomfrey's, who was in her office working late, appreciation. Hermione, however, fell asleep before the first note was finished, Professor Snape's tailored targeted potion he'd crafted that afternoon doing much to eliminate her pain and repair the damage Weasley had wrought with his spell.

Kingsley, himself, had been there to view Ginevra's memory of the incident as well as provide the facts of the law to one ignorant Ronald Weasley.

Erik was not in danger of having charges pressed against him or losing his ability to wield his lasso even with so many witnesses present to the event.

As a muggle against an adult wizard, he was well within his rights to do as he'd done due to an unprovoked attack, self-professed from Ronald Weasley's own lips, just as Hermione had said.

Kingsley had, in fact, wanted to know if Hermione was going to press charges against Weasley. Severus said he didn't think she'd want to go that far, but he would inquire. Ronald's face at that moment had been priceless. Severus had taken a personal pleasure in informing the brat of Hermione's words regarding him verbatim, telling him exactly what she said concerning her never seeing him again, and adding that he's no longer welcome on Hogwarts grounds while Severus remained headmaster.

Potter had agreed with his decision when Weasley had gone on a tear at this consequence and the loss of his friend. It was Shacklebolt that put an end to the boy's hysterics, reading him the riot act and letting him know he was an adult wizard that could face serious repercussions including jail time should an incident like this be repeated.

"It better not," said Ginevra, looking at her brother with murder in her eyes.

Severus, however, would not hold his breath that Weasley would cede the field just yet. He was in love with Hermione, and he was emotionally stunted about it.

If he wasn't careful, it was going to cost the boy all he had including his freedom. Severus vowed this would be the only time Hermione received any hurtful repercussion from their relationship with her concerning the boy. He'd see Ronald Weasley in Azkaban first.

Erik ended his song, and Severus asked, "Let's have another, Chazza, please."

Erik did so, singing an old French ballad about love and loss.

Severus heard sniffing from the back office and looked up to find Poppy Pomfrey in the doorway, listening to Erik's song. Severus drew his wand and manufactured a plushy chair beside him, and gestured Poppy should join them.

She did, and Erik continued to sing his songs. After a battery of them, he finished with 'The Glory of Love' by Benny Goodman, and Poppy softly cheered. "Oh, that was wonderful!" she enthused quietly. "Miss Granger is certainly a lucky witch! My Harold used to sing that song to me oh so many years ago, Mr. Chastaine, and you remind me of him so." Poppy smiled, and it was for memories gone by. "The two of you should really go to bed, especially you, Severus. Miss Granger will be on the mend in a day or two. Tomorrow's still going to be a bit uncomfortable for the little duck yet, poor dear, but some of those cuts were very deep. She'd looked like she'd almost been bisected if the bone hadn't stopped the constriction."

Severus and Erik both winced, and Poppy tutted. "Sorry," she apologized. "I'm used to speaking my mind plainly with Severus about a student in our care, and you've a trusting, considerate nature, sir."

"Call me 'Erik', please," the phantom insisted soberly, his eyes only for the little mound of bandages and tousled curls laying so silent and still on the hospital bed.

"And you call me 'Poppy', Erik," Madam Pomphrey insisted. "She'll be fine in a week or so. Never you fear." And Poppy rose from Severus' manufactured chair and patted Erik on the shoulder.

Erik looked at Severus. "Want to be mesmeri—?"

"No," Severus said emphatically, looking at Hermione's form. "We've got to protect her…."

"How?" Erik scoffed. "Sheathe her in wizard's glass like Snow White or Sleeping Beauty?"

"She's too brave and too clever for her own good," Severus said, disgusted.

"And, sadly," replied Erik, "that's a lesson in discernment she'll have to learn: when to pair altruism with valor. For myself, I'm grateful she preserved my hand—my angel."

Severus leaned in and said lowly, "It nearly cost us the finest pair of breasts in Scotland, possibly the world."

"What do you want me to say, Snape? That this will never happen again? That I will, in many respects, have to rely on my woman to fight my battles for me in her world for I haven't the ability to counter that which I come across from an eleven-year-old adversary should he 'get the drop on' me. Do you want me to give her up, Severus? I will, you know. If it means ensuring Hermione's safety and security, I'll leave and not look back."

"No, Chastaine," Severus immediately said, "that's not the answer. Leaving is not the answer.

"Then, what is?" asked Erik, his tone miserable.

"Constant vigilance," answered Severus. "We've got to constantly be on watch for her sake and yours—"

"—all of ours, Severus," corrected Erik. "Hermione and I would be diminished without you. We're family now, and as such, I'd prefer to be as prepared in these things as necessary. Are there gadgets of your trade to make knowing one's enemy easier?"

Severus nodded. "You and I'll raid Albus' supply of curiosities. There are a great many gadgets and tools to identify and neutralize one's enemy Albus had within his collection. And I will have you and Hermione protected above all else. As my family, I can do none other than to see to the safety of you both."

"And as your family, Severus, I'll do my best to arm and protect myself accordingly and learn all I can about your world."

Severus nodded. "I'll give you books to read. Hermione still has a map of Hogwarts in her possession. It tells of all sentient beings upon the grounds and their location, and I'd like you to have it. It will also provide you with all the secret passageways and how to access them." Severus smirked. "After all, you're a phantom. You need to know how to navigate the castle's private haunts. The map will have to be charmed to be activated for you, but I think it's more valuable in your possession, Chastaine, than anything else I could give. Ronald Weasley will never set foot on Hogwarts grounds while I'm its headmaster, and so that's your main antagonist kept away. The rest—those who have a problem with muggles—will have to be dealt with at your discretion and with time."

"And will we ever go public with our love of her?" asked Erik.

Severus shook his head. "I'm not free to, as of yet, ask for her hand. Besides, she already wears your ring, Chazza," Severus said with mock disdain. "And on my salary, I couldn't hope to provide her something finer."

Erik looked around, and then looked at Severus. "Does the position of Hogwarts Headmaster not pay—?"

"Interim headmaster. That's the key, and the loophole the Board of Governors has used these last two years to pay me a pittance of what a typical 'Head' would make. My previous employer didn't give a fig for providing a 'living wage', and I don't imagine the Board of Governors are going to revise my contract now that I'm on my way out the door."

Erik smiled, and it was wicked. "In my younger years, Snape, I knew exactly what to do with those that would seek to grift and steal from an honest man."

Severus laughed. "Oh, yes, drop the Enchanted Ceiling on all our heads, won't you? How about send letters of extortion to the Board of Governors demanding unreasonable requests. And if these demands are not met—"

"—all of my requests were reasonable," insisted Erik flatly. "Every. Single. One. And I helped make that opera house the shining jewel of the place it is today."

"Yes, you did at that, Chastaine. Yes, you did." And rising from his seat, Severus returned from Poppy's office with a bottle of Cherylys fairy wine and two mugs.

"Is that what Hermione was drinking earlier today?" asked Erik.

"Did Poppy give her this?" countered Severus.

At Erik's sniff at the bottle, then nod, Severus replied, "Good. Yes, it's fairy wine. Remember when I said the gathering of fairy tears is a reluctance?"

Erik nodded.

"Well, fermenting their mead is a joy, and a delicate art. A single thimbleful will numb your nose. More than a thimbleful, and—" Severus shrugged and poured a generous amount into the two mugs.

"To Hermione Granger's improving health," said Severus, and took a generous swig.

"To our maintaining sanity as concerns her continued health," countered Erik and followed suit.

"I don't want to imagine a world without her in it," Severus murmured later, breaking the contemplative silence between them.

"Then don't. Why borrow trouble?" asked Erik. "Drink your drink and tell me about her school years." He nodded to their sleeping girl.

Severus snorted and pointed with a long finger. "The girl's a menace with her altruistic streak. When I think of all the hair-raising scrapes she's escaped over the years—" he took another strong pull of wine.

"I'll drink to that," and Erik clinked his cup with Severus as Severus related a few of Hermione's more adventurous exploits.

.

.

.

Hermione awoke in pain.

Gulping, she occluded the sharpest of it away and focused instead on what she could see in the early morning light.

Severus and Erik were asleep at her bedside, but that wasn't the unusual thing. Severus was half-dressed, his robes unbuttoned at the nape, and Erik was in shirtsleeves. But still, that wasn't unusual.

No, what was unusual was their posture. Though both men were seated separately, the separation in their chairs might as well be nonexistent, for Erik's head lay pillowed on Severus's chest, and Severus lay with his arm thrown haphazardly around Erik's shoulders as both men drunkenly snored.

The two of them were passed out drunk if the almost empty bottle of fairy wine laying on its side told the tale.

Severus snored loudly in Erik's ear, and this caused Erik to startle awake.

His eyes were bloodshot, but they were for none but her, and Erik did his best not to disturb Severus as he turned the Englishman and lay his head on the overstuffed chair back and carefully disentangled himself. And then Erik rose to crouch near her bed and check her vitals in the weak morning light. "Your pulse is elevated. Are you in pain, Hermione?" he asked.

She nodded.

Erik nodded to the potions at her bedside. "You're due for another round of potion as well as a change of unguent and bandages. Madam Pomfrey really should be in attendance for that, angel."

She bit her lip, knowing he was going to tell her to hold off on taking anything until Madam arrived.

"Your professor mentioned 'occlusion' as a method of pain relief. Is it like meditation?"

Hermione nodded.

"Would you like a guided meditation given to you from me to help you navigate the pain you feel so you might rest easier?"

She nodded again.

Erik said, "Close your eyes."

She did as ordered.

"You're in a wood. It's primeval, enchanted, with thick overgrowth, much as your Forbidden Forest around here is filled with such macabre wonders and horrors. You feel those horrors keenly at the moment, do you not?"

She nodded.

"Put them down and walk away. You're in the darkest part of the forest, surrounded by pain. Begin to walk, angel, through the thick wood towards the glade, one foot in front of the other. The forest begins to lighten just as your pain begins to lessen and fall away as, dappled by sunlight, you make your way towards true rest." Erik whispered something too low for any but her subconscious to hear, but Hermione felt her pain lessen to a shadow of itself as she relaxed.

She sighed.

He continued, "You are traveling, angel, and you look down and realize you are now gliding through the glade, and nowhere can shadow find your radiant self. You do not stop gliding, even after you've outrun that troublesome, pesky pain. Everywhere is light and warmth. You're dancing in your joy, angel, able to fly free."

Hermione smiled, for the first time since she'd been injured having a semblance of some painless comfort as she breathed deeply and focused on Erik's guided imagery and hypnotic voice.

"Are you tired, angel? Do you need to rest?" Erik asked her.

She shook her head, her eyes still remaining closed. "No, I'm awake… for now."

"Then we fly," Erik approved. "Do you prefer city-living or a country-life, my love?" he asked.

She grinned. "City. Can't stand being away from takeout while on the run."

"Oh, really?" asked Erik teasingly. "And are my lessons in cookery and preparing an elegant meal falling on deaf ears, Hermione?"

She grinned and kept her eyes closed, still flying high on the guided meditation and the beguiling sound of his voice, "Not deaf ears, precisely. Just… untutored ones. I still find little pleasure in cleaning or cooking for myself, although I understand the necessity, but I'd rather dedicate my time to other pursuits."

"Oh, sweet angel, I'll see that attitude changed through proper training and technique," promised Erik. "Did you know the Chinese have a tea serving ceremony that involves over twenty separate rituals performed? And all of these must be observed according to their purpose and given credence and ceremony for the tea served to be considered 'one of honor'?"

"You have dreams of making me into a geisha," said Hermione fondly, her voice beginning to drift in the twilight between wakefulness and dreams.

"You already are, dear one," said Erik truthfully. "Able to arrest with just a look, entertaining two men that would literally die for you, and it turns out you would die for us. Your heart is made of courage, but as you are female, you are of the sea, and la mer rules you completely. Do not move your hips, or your body in the slightest, but I want to see if you can achieve release through the sound of my voice alone, Hermione."

She smiled softly in between the cusp of sleep and wakefulness as she listened to her phantom tell her how to ride the crest of the wave of her desire. He kept reminding her of their moments together; the times he would dominate, tempt, or tease her, and all the while he reminded her that she was in the sea, bobbing up and down with the current, riding the crest of a wave, feeling filled. Just before sleep claimed her, Erik saw her flush and moan softly, a full-body shiver gathered within her as she quickened with release.

Erik looked over to find Severus awake and staring right at him as he performed this service for their girl.

Severus nodded to Erik and patted him on the shoulder. "Good job, Chastaine." And rising with a more than prominent erection in his trousers, Severus took himself off to the lav, leaving Erik to smile at having done right by his family this day.

.

.

.

Ron's owl Pigwidgeon appeared later that afternoon.

Hermione was nice to the bird but incinerated the letter without reading it and sent the bird back home empty-handed.

Erik read to her from a book of eighteenth-century muggle poetry; the works of Coleridge and Shelley, Byron as well. And truly, there was none-more-pleasing a sound in the world than Erik as he read. Professor Snape had been by to check on her throughout the day, and for her part, Hermione focused on occluding the pain and regrowing skin and flesh.

As Madam had explained it, they had to do so delicately and slowly as to prevent vicious and ropey scarring. Hermione didn't care much for the aesthetics of herself, but when Erik painted her, she wanted it to be a real reflection of what she looked like and having scars would detract from that.

So, slowly, she endured the painful re-growth of her flesh.

Pigwidgeon showed back up that night absolutely exhausted with a piece of parchment and a bedraggled rose from the Weasley's rose garden.

Hermione sent the poor thing to the owlery to recover and sent a school owl instead with her message tied to its leg: it was Ron's letter unopened, and the bedraggled flower returned. "You needn't wait for a reply," Hermione told the barn owl stroking its breast with a finger.

It hooted and flew away.

Severus Snape sent his own missive, care of the school post, to the Burrow. It was an official proclamation of 'cease and desist' in the harassment of Miss Granger or the aurors would be involved.

After that, the owls from Weasley stopped.

With another change of bandages and more potion, Hermione was released from hospital, able to shuffle slowly under her own steam to her bedroom and given a prescription of bed rest and told not to lift anything above five pounds for the next three days.

Both Severus and Erik paid attention as Madam Pomfrey was illustrating how to wash and change her bandages.

Both knew how to care for her.

Erik made her comfortable in bed, and Severus came from the floo that night, a house-elf on its way with dinner for them all.

Wearily, Hermione nestled between them as they talked among themselves, and she drifted on a sea of pain potion until the topic of who would replace Severus as headmaster came up. "They've offered me the position permanently—" said Professor Snape uncertainly as he looked between Erik and Hermione. "They were quite adamant about it."

Erik shook his head. "You want to work in research and development; your position here would hinder that."

Severus' eyebrow rose. "It'll take three years minimum for me to get my practice established with steady clientele." He looked down at Hermione and reached for a curl at her nape, straightening and then letting it go. "I want to support her in anything she chooses to pursue."

"And I've a measure of wealth and resources to support you both during the interim not to mention the established skill it takes to continue seeing to our needs," insisted Erik. "You are free, mon frère. Don't behold yourself to a place that has only brought you misery as well as career stagnation. Did they, at least, offer to increase your compensation?"

Severus pursed his lips.

"Erik's right, love," Hermione whispered, raising her hand and cradling Severus' jaw. "It's time to move on if you're ready?" she asked. "You are ready to, aren't you, Severus?"

He shook his head and looked around. "Hogwarts is my home. It's been so for decades, Hermione. To leave this little plot of Earth for parts unknown is—"

"—a necessary part of growth," insisted Erik. "You're a good headmaster; I can see that clearly, Severus. But it's not where your passion lies, and aren't you tired of putting duty ahead of passion?"

Severus met Erik's stare. "I don't like relying on others to see my needs met, Chastaine."

"Who does?" asked Hermione, drawing a deep breath and turning on her side to face him. "You deserve to take time for you, Severus Snape. Erik's offering you that chance, and I think you should accept. You can even have a contract drawn up and notarized by Gringotts if you're more comfortable. Borrow from Erik and pay back when you're established."

"Unnecessary," insisted Erik.

"Required," decided Severus. "I'll put together a business plan, and you and I will approach the goblins together, Chastaine. You'll be my business partner, and we'll have joint ownership over this enterprise."

"So, does that mean you're moving on?" she asked with a grin.

Severus ducked his head as his eyes met hers. "Is that what you would like?" he asked.

She shook her head and tucked his lank hair behind his ear. "No. I want you to be able to pursue any dream you choose. Just as the both of you want for me."

Severus nodded. "Very well. Then I'll decline the position." He kissed her gently and drew back. "On top of everything else, did you begin your menses."

Hermione nodded.

"Then cerebral stimulation only this night. Chazza was in the middle of reading 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner' when you were discharged. Would you like me to complete it?"

Smiling, Hermione gestured that Erik nestle closer to her, and the two of them listened as Professor Snape read Coleridge's masterwork.

This quiet evening with the three of them marked a change that Hermione couldn't define. But it was suddenly clear to her that her life was going to revolve around the two special men in her life. And while they wanted her to achieve all she dreamed, she wanted that for them just as much.

And honestly, would it be so bad for her to go into the 'family business' when she'd mastered her charm work, arithmancy, diplomacy, and potions? She didn't think so.

.

.

.

A few days passed, and Hermione slowly healed.

Thanks to Professor Snape's and Erik's care, only a faint, pink scar remained hidden by the curvature of her breasts going around her back. However, Erik was more than considerate of her now, treating her like spun glass at times.

Professor Snape wasn't nearly as accommodating, and she appreciated him more for it because she wanted to return to normalcy as much as possible.

Harry showed up to Hogwarts that Monday by himself, but Hermione was 'tits deep' in a project she was completing for her charms mastery, and so, couldn't see him.

Harry insisted on speaking to Professor Snape, however, wanting him to pass on a message to Hermione. "You're still apprenticing her as well as Professor Flitwick, right, sir?" asked Harry, coming to stand before the headmaster's desk.

"What of it, Potter?" asked Professor Snape from his seated position behind the desk.

Potter took a seat opposite, uninvited, to Severus' annoyance. "I just want Hermione to know she's got a place at Grimmauld always, and Ron won't bother her there. He realizes how much he messed up the other day—"

"Save your words." Severus held up a hand. "Ronald Weasley has skated through life without consequence for his boorish behavior for much too long. This last escapade of his has cost the boy Miss Granger's complete regard. She's let it be known to me that Ronald Weasley is 'dead to her'. Those were the words she used, and words I do not think she used lightly and without much provocation."

Harry looked torn. "You're right, sir. You're absolutely right! But you don't know what it's like to—"

"Potter," Severus scoffed. "You forget who you're talking to, or did you forget the incident by the lake with your father when I was younger? What I said that day in a fit of anger and spite cost me the friendship and affection of the one person on this Earth I looked forward to seeing day after day."

Harry paled and gulped, realizing he was talking about his mother and their friendship.

Severus nodded. "I had to learn, and my lesson was bitter. Weasley is not a boy any longer and will be held accountable for his poor decisions. Miss Granger has quite moved on from their friendship, and, I can say this with complete honesty, she spares him not a thought any longer. While I'm in residence at Hogwarts as its headmaster, Ronald Weasley is still barred from entry, and that's all I want to hear on the subject."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, his manner filled with defeat.

Severus rolled his eyes. "She should be finished with Filius by now. You can find her in the greenhouses with Chastaine. He's taken to sitting in on the lower year's lessons in horticulture, and Miss Granger is never far from her phantom's side."

"So, he truly is the Phantom of the Opera? As in the West End musical?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"I've no idea what that is, Potter," Severus said, feigning ignorance, "but we've both seen his residence under the Palais Garnier, and there's no doubt he's certainly a talented fellow."

Harry nodded. "Ginny said he would've killed Ron that day. That he'd almost good as done—"

"Oh?" asked Severus, his anger unleashed, "And what would you do to someone who'd just cursed the one you loved most in all the world? Frankly, I'm amazed at Chastaine's restraint. I know if I had been there to witness what Weasley did, events would've unfolded quite differently."

Potter let Severus' words stand.

Before the boy left, Severus had some words of caution for the younger man. "If I were you, Potter, I wouldn't mention Weasley to Miss Granger when you see her. Inquire about her. She's a lot to be proud of, and too often her accomplishments are brushed aside as to be expected for her brilliance." Severus met Potter's stare, "Be grateful in your friendship with her because Miss Granger is a very special witch."

Harry's eyes widened as pieces suddenly fell into place. "You love her, too, don't you, sir? In addition to Erik?"

Severus was now supremely irritated. "She's my apprentice, so get whatever sordid mental imaginings you've got out of your head, now, boy."

"But you care for her—" Harry persisted.

"It's impossible not to," Severus admitted irritably. "You know your friend, Potter. It's impossible not to love her when you know her."

Harry nodded agreeing but then winced. "Ron really bollocksed it this time, didn't he?"

Severus met the younger man's stare. "You've no idea how badly, and I hope you never learn. Now, go. I've tolerated your presence long enough."

Harry went, taking the headmaster's well-intended advice to heart.

.

.

.

"A blue rose doesn't exist in nature," Erik said, looking at the bush of them Professor Sprout had cultivated. "And these are not dyed or 'magick'd' in any respect?"

Pomona Sprout shook her head, and withdrawing her sheers, clipped a newly budded rose for the opera ghost's lapel. "No. They are found in the wilds of Patagonia in a magical forest no muggle can see. I've a friend that gifted me a cutting." She nodded to her bush, the pride of her greenhouse.

Professor Sprout took the boutonniere and placed it at Erik's lapel, putting a staying enchantment so it remained ever-green until the charm wore off.

While Hermione visited with the second years, Pomona had enchanted her office against noise pollution so they could talk, and Erik looked over to find Hermione helping a second year repot a 'mandrake', his eyes going wide at the truly ugly thing. "Is it sentient?" he asked the professor, seeing the thing open its mouth on a wail.

She laughed. "Not sentient as much as an annoyance. Just as garden gnomes and pixies are an annoyance but are useful in pollinating and tilling the earth. So, too, do mandrakes have their uses. They, in fact, saved the consciousness of Hermione in her second year."

Erik looked at the woman curiously.

"Severus Snape and I had a devil of a time dealing with a passel of petrified children, Hermione being one such child. She'd been attacked and petrified by a basilisk which is a kind of snake if you didn't know. It was a near thing she survived the attack, but as I'm to understand, the girl discovered just in time what was plaguing the school and took precautions that saved her life. Professor Snape, the mandrakes, and I saved the rest."

"Well, I'm grateful for it," said Erik, looking at the other half of his heart. She was smiling, happy in her joy as she aided a younger witchling.

Professor Sprout was keeping a weather-eye on her brood when she shuffled to her feet, and said, "Bless my soul, it's Harry Potter!"

All eyes turned towards the door.

The black-haired boy standing just inside waved awkwardly to them all, and noticing it was mandrake day, he clapped his hands over his ears, and looking back to Professor Sprout, mouthed, "Hermione?"

He looked around and upon not immediately seeing her, turned to leave.

"Harry Potter, you get back here!" ordered Pomona Sprout with a wandtip to her throat so she could be heard above the ruckus. "You don't come to the greenhouses without getting your hands dirty. Now, go put on some gardening gloves, an apron, earmuffs, find Miss Granger, and set to work."

Harry looked chagrined for all of one moment, before doing as instructed, and finally seeing Hermione towards the back of the classroom. She gave him a one-armed hug, careful not to get dirt on him, and the two of them began repotting the ugly beasts together.

Pomona nodded at the sight. "It's good to see the two of them together at play. There were dark days recently passed when I didn't think such a sight would ever happen again."

"Hermione's told stories of her time spent on the run. I'm to take it here there were different challenges to be had?"

Pomona nodded, and reaching into her desk, withdrew two mugs which she immediately cleaned and poured them each a dram of Ogden's. "If we're going to go down that road, I insist we do so slightly knackered."

Erik raised his mug. "I'll drink to that."

Pomona drew a deep breath, then said, "Muggleborns like Miss Granger were no longer welcome at the school. There were a few that showed up for the Hogwarts Express. They were allowed to attend but only as 'whipping posts' to practice dark curses on. There was a boy, Collin Creevey was his name." She smiled fondly and rolled her eyes. "An exasperation if ever there was one, but he was good-hearted. You know the type. Wears his heart on his sleeve for all to see." Her eyes took on a far-away caste. "The Carrows broke that boy. Over the course of that dark year, he was tortured daily with the Cruciatus among other vile concoctions of darkest magic, and there's not a day I don't regret not standing up for him when I had the chance."

She took a long drink. "But they were killing teachers—Charity Burbage was the muggle studies professor, and she'd been fed to Riddle's snake. And with Severus' loyalties unquestioned due to his murder of Albus—" She sighed, and it held all the weight of her considerable years. "We professors did what we could to protect the majority of the students in our care. The Creevey boy perished in the battle, and it's a dark regret I'll take with me to the grave."

"Those we love and care for cannot escape the brutal reality of war unscathed when it does unfortunately arise," Erik said practically. "And that's what it was: a war you had no hope of ending by yourself. You did the best you could for those in your care, and I want you to truly believe that."

Tears suddenly sprung to Pomona's eyes as she looked at Erik and nodded. "I will."

Erik nodded. "Good." He finished his drink and standing, saw that Hermione and her friend were taking off their gear and safety equipment, the lesson at an end with the children leaving. He looked behind him to find Pomona had a soft smile on her face.

She gestured towards Hermione. "I had thought her heart would either go to Potter or Weasley."

"Luckily, through an act of fortune, I scooped it up for myself," Erik said with a jaunty grin to Pomona's laughing amusement. And stepping with silent feet, he snuck up behind his love, and in a practiced move, swept her off her feet Cossack-style and kissed her breathless before restoring her upright.

She opened her eyes on a smile within his embrace. "Hello."

Erik grinned and looked over. "Harry," he greeted the younger man, "It's good to see you again."

Harry looked between them, bemused. "You as well. Hermione was just telling me about learning to play the harp. And I told her I'd love to hear her play."

"Know Stairway to Heaven, do you?" asked Erik, still continuing to hold her within the bounds of his arms.

Harry wrinkled his nose. "The Zepplin song?"

Hermione nodded. "I'm learning the chords to play daily, putting them together piecemeal and learning to read the music Erik's transcribed for me and pluck the strings."

"You'll have to perform a concert for Ginny, Luna, and me when you're ready."

Hermione nodded and asked, "When's your first game?"

Harry shook his head. "I turned the Kestrels down. I've decided to pursue the Aurory after all. Ron and I—" Harry winced.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You can say his name, Harry. It's alright. He's still your friend, and I'm not going to make you choose between us."

"There's no choice, Hermione. I…" Harry gulped, "I kicked Ron out of Grimmauld. Sent him back home to live at the Burrow. He's not ready to live on his own, and he's not going to pursue auror training with me. He's just—" Harry scrubbed his fingers through his messy hair.

Hermione tsk'd but said nothing.

"I told Professor Snape I wouldn't talk about him to you, so I'm not. Just know I'm here for you. You, not Ron. And should you ever need a place to stay, Grimmauld is open to you—to you both—always." Harry included Erik in the invitation.

Erik was shocked.

Hermione smirked. "And Professor Snape?" she asked.

Harry looked at Hermione uncertainly, and Hermione looked up at him with guileless innocence.

He pointed at her. "If you had told me, Hermione Jean Granger, that you were interested in romantically pursuing the Black Bat of the dungeons not seven months ago, I think I would've taken you to St. Mungo's ward for the incurables, myself, hiding from Riddle or no. But a lot's happened since, and quite frankly I owe him, you, and Erik my life, so," Harry shrugged and grinned at her, "I take it it's not a choice between the two?" Harry nodded at Erik and gestured back to the castle.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Why limit yourself, Harry? Especially when I consider them both family in addition to you."

Harry nodded. "I thought as much." He held out his hand to Erik and grinned up at the much taller man. "Welcome to our family."

His own feelings on inclusion in this boy's inner circle aside, Erik could tell this moment was momentous for his angel, and he instantly took Harry Potter's hand in his. "You are Hermione's brother to me, and someone to be respected for what you were willing to sacrifice for your world." Erik released his hand. "I respect you, but I cannot say the same for Severus."

Harry and Hermione winced at that.

"Snape and I, sorry, I know Hermione, Professor Snape and I have a long, terrible history between us starting from before I was born. From all he's let slip over the years, I gather he and my mum were close before he said something unforgivable and ruined their friendship."

Hermione nodded.

Harry gulped. "I never want to put our friendship at risk, Hermione," Harry admitted.

She shook her head and drew him into a hug. "You couldn't possibly."

Harry kissed her forehead. "Ron's a prat, and I'm glad you didn't wind up together after all. He didn't appreciate you while he had you." He nodded to Erik. "He takes care of you, right? He and Sna—Professor Snape?"

Hermione met Harry's stare and said simply, "Professor Snape and Erik treat me exactly like what I am."

"And what's that?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"An apprentice seeking knowledge as well as a woman in love with them both."

"Err… you're happy then?" Harry asked.

Hermione grinned. "I'm honestly the happiest I've ever been, Harry, and if Professor Snape can help me restore my parents' memories this summer, then life will be perfect."

.

.

.

The three of them were in her room later that night reading quietly together when Hermione vanished her tights and Erik's trousers to a folded pile beside them.

Professor Snape was sitting beside Erik on the sofa, and still continuing to read. Without saying a word, Hermione raised her skirt and intentionally impelled herself on Erik's eager conductor's baton, situating herself rather comfortably in his lap and arms, still continuing to be absorbed in her reading.

He was reading a book on protective magic, and he, too, continued to read with only a little bit of movement from them both in this lazy session of lovemaking.

They stayed that way for many minutes, the two of them, joined, and lazily fucking to a non-existent rhythm.

Professor Snape looked up from his reading only once, and that was when Hermione gave Erik a 'pop' kiss, and dismounting from him, vanished Severus' trousers as well to the pile, left Erik's still-eager member, and went to sit on Professor Snape's.

She looked over to Erik to find him with a knowing, yet challenged, expression on his face; he nodded and went back to the written word.

Severus, likewise, did not break the silence, or his attention, as they fucked, just continued to do so slowly and metronomically while holding her in his arms, the both of them continuing to read.

Hermione finished her chapter, and squirming, began to read ahead for the lesson to come. She looked over to find Erik was still in an aroused state, but his attention was on his reading.

Grinning wickedly, Hermione gave Professor Snape a 'pop' kiss, and dismounting, immediately went back to her phantom and sat once more in Erik's lap.

She looked over at Professor Snape to find him with a knowing expression on his face. "So, you are guilty of torture, mistress?" he asked, breaking the silence between the three of them and taking his gleaming wizard's staff in hand.

She grinned and nestled into Erik's embrace on a 'coo' when he put down his book and palmed her nipples, rolling them through her bra in his palms.

She continued to attempt to read.

Erik began moving more earnestly within her, and her breath began coming in small sips and gasps. She lay her book down, forgotten.

He was almost….

She grinned wickedly, and giving him a 'pop' kiss, dismounted him to his gasp of dismay.

Professor Snape immediately reached for her and drew her into his lap so she faced him as she straddled him. She was impelled with a 'slurp', so wet from the two of them and her desire, she was sopping.

She moaned.

"You will not move," he ordered of her lowly, making her shiver.

She giggled, and it was naughty. "No, master."

He fucked her completely. She bit her lip, trying hard to remain unmoved, occluding her desire and preventing her release.

He was almost there.

On the downbeat, she shot up on her feet and was immediately grabbed by Erik and sat on his lap to her immediate satisfaction.

She couldn't prevent the tide of release from quaking around her as she instinctually rode her phantom to both their satisfaction.

He was close… so very…clo—

"Don't even think about it," he subvocalized to her lethally, and she laughed, and it was low.

He swirled his hips within her, and she let her head fall back on his chest.

She looked over to find Professor Snape with an irritated, yet amused, expression on his face as he continued to stroke his gleaming member. She bit her lip, feeling another release begin to blossom.

This time, she aimed to take Erik with her when she went.

Professor Snape didn't even wait for Erik to finish, just grabbed her, lifted her off Erik and impelled her dripping cunny on him while she straddled him, facing him.

"Think you're clever, minx, do you?" he asked, his tone desperate.

She looked over to find Erik had a less than satisfied expression on his face. His erection was still insistent.

"Do you think, this time, our apprentice has bit off more than she can chew?" asked Severus softly to Erik.

Hermione gulped and met Professor Snape's stare. It was unyielding.

"No, Rus. I think our angel knew exactly the hell she'd unleash with her actions." Suddenly, Professor Snape stood, and Hermione gasped. This angle was new, and it was deep and penetrative.

And quite suddenly, all she could think of was the swollen size of her professor's concern within her. He backed her up to the wall, and calling his wand to him, performed a sticking charm on her, so she was stuck fast to it.

They were still connected, but her weight was being supported by his charm, and she was stuck.

He wrapped her legs around him and fucked her completely, railing into her, causing her to shriek and moan incoherently before he suddenly withdrew to her shock.

She had a moment to register his absence before Erik was placing her legs around his hips and locking them there, then putting himself inside. She breathed through another release as her eyes met his. In them, she saw an abounding love mixed with determination.

He, likewise, showed her no mercy, pounding into her puss, causing her to shriek in pleasure to the rafters. He came with an echoing groan, his beautiful voice filled with relief, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Pulling away from her, now limp, he kissed her sweetly and patted her cheek, gesturing Severus should finish. Severus was immediately there, his erection still in hand. "Had enough, apprentice? You may at any time, use your safe word," he reminded her.

She shook her head and reached for him, her expression weary but desirous.

He worked himself in, and she moaned, feeling yet another release begin to build.

He was slow this time, rocking them back and forth with her legs wrapped around his thighs, and her arms wrapped around his neck. The sticking charm held all her weight, and so, she felt quite comfortable clinging to her professor as he rocked them.

"That was a very naughty thing to do, apprentice," Severus said lowly, still slowly fucking her.

"You hate it?" she asked softly.

"NO!" Erik cried from beside them, preparing her bath kit and tub for filling.

"Let's just say, I will be very disappointed should this behavior not be repeated," said Severus Snape.

She looked up and met his loving stare, and he kissed her passionately beginning to work within her in earnest.

She came with a soft cry around him, and he was moving within her, rhythmically building until he attained his release. He moaned into her neck before kissing her passionately and pulling away. He canceled the sticking charm. She gasped as she was falling as there was no way her legs were going to hold her weight when Professor Snape scooped her up.

He nodded to the tub. "Enlarge your tub wandlessly, apprentice."

Biting her lip, Hermione clung to him and shook her head. "I'll shatter it for sure."

"Hermione," said Chastaine, "Perform the spell with your hand while telling me what fourteen times thirty-six is."

She did so absently while mentally working out Erik's math problem. "It's 504." She looked down. She had an enlarged porcelain tub ready for the filling. Grinning, she met Professor Snape's stare. "Chastaine is helping you overcome this block. I want you to exercise your wandless magic every day." He filled the tub with warm water from his wand, and then enlarged it further so it could fit the three of them.

Severus gestured Erik should get in, and Erik reached for Hermione, and then Professor Snape was seating himself as well, and the three of them sighed as they let the warm water ease the aches and pains from another day's spent living well.

Calling her wand to her, Hermione performed a vibration spell, and suddenly the water was frothing all around them.

Erik leaned his head back on a groan. "Now, this is the life."

Hermione reached for her phantom and nestled within his arms while Professor Snape took her feet in his and began to massage.

"I could easily relive this day for the rest of my life," said Erik, "and never be shut of it." He kissed her on the temple.

"Yes, a lifetime of this suits, does it, Chastaine?" Severus asked.

Erik grinned and looked down at their tired apprentice. "You do your job well; I hope you know?"

"And what's that?" she asked around a yawn.

"Captivate and entice," Erik answered, running his hands up and down her body in a sensual caress.

"Bewitch and ensnare," challenged Professor Snape, reaching for his wand and levitating some potion from his robes. It was hot pink, and he used a dollop of it on the water.

Hermione sighed to feel her residual aches from having the two of them so soon and so aggressively disappear, and she turned into Professor Snape's embrace, draping herself on his naked, submerged form, and kissed him long and deep.

Pulling away, she turned until she was in between them again and let the vibration of the tub, warm water, and presence of the two men beside her relax her completely.

Silence, save for the crackling of the fireplace, reigned.

At length, she yawned again.

"Tomorrow, you'll be spending the entire day with Flitwick, apprentice. Chazza, are you going to spend your time in the library, or would you like to go on walkabout with only a map for your companion?" asked Severus.

"That sounds as if it has possibilities," said Erik, putting his arm around Hermione's waist.

She snuggled close to him and said, "I was able to have Professor Flitwick permanently charm the map so it's always on the 'I'm up to no good' setting without the 'mischief managed' component of the spell so the map's always able to be examined."

"Stop by the headmaster's office tomorrow before you head out, Chazza, and I'll give you a few things to take with you in your quest." Severus yawned a jaw-cracking yawn. He looked over at Erik and grinned. "You haven't had to mesmerize me to sleep in days."

Erik smirked. "I know. Good sleep is doing us all a world of good, and speaking of which, are you ready to get to bed for your day tomorrow?" Erik asked her.

Hermione nodded around a tired yawn, and Erik stood, drawing her up from the water.

Professor Snape waved them off, saying he'd like a few more minutes to soak.

Hermione towel-dried herself and Erik before the fireplace, and the two of them crawled naked in her four-poster bed.

She was asleep before Severus joined them, but it was to his arms she turned and nestled on his chest as she sought her dreams. Erik cuddled close to them both, and Severus once more slept soundly in their embrace.

.

.

.

She once again woke alone with a de-thorned red rose on one side of her pillow and her dose of daily potion on the other. Hermione readied herself for the day, and went to the Great Hall for breakfast, sitting with the other professors and a few of the apprentices at the end of the table.

"So, you finally join us plebs, huh?" Neville asked from across from her. She grinned. "Hello, Neville!" she said, reaching over to give him a one-armed hug.

"I know you've been busy, and I haven't been here much, apprenticing for Anselslip Apothecary as well as Professor Sprout, so I've been busy as well. How are you, Hermione?" he asked, and Hermione's eyes widened as she took in the countenance of her friend.

Neville Longbottom had grown up to become a very handsome wizard.

She grinned. "Neville, It's the best it's ever been. And hopefully, this summer it'll be even better."

"How's Harry and Ron?" asked Neville, biting into his sausage on toast.

She winced. "Ron and I've had a permanent falling out. Harry's good though. He's starting training with Kingsley in the Aurory this week."

Neville nodded, but then said, "I'm sorry to hear about you and Ron. I saw him the other day, and he said to tell you, 'he's sorry, and he loves you still even though you're with both the phantom and the greasy git'. His words made absolutely no sense to me, so I let them go and said I'd pass along the message."

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "His words make no sense to me either, and as I've said, our friendship has passed its termination date."

Neville winced and drank some pumpkin juice. "May you never feel the same way about me," he said.

Hermione shook her head. "Not possible, Neville. You could never treat me so cruelly so thoroughly and repeatedly."

Neville nodded but then smirked. "Wanna hear some gossip from that side of the fence?"

Hermione laughed. "Neville Longbottom, I've never known you to spread gossip."

"It's too good not to, especially considering your thoughts on Ron-Ron."

Hermione's eyebrows rose.

"Ron's been in contact with Lavender again, and according to Ginny, who I see regularly at the apothecary since she works there on the off-times of her games, Ron-Ron and Lav-Lav have been carrying on at all hours of the day and night within the Weasley home."

Hermione grimaced.

"And it's not just sex but fighting as well. This has caused Fred, George, and Percy to move out. Charlie's gone back to Romania. Bill and Fleur stick around to help out with Arthur and so their little one gets time with Molly. Ginny has moved to Grimmauld Place with Harry permanently, and Ron begs Harry every chance he gets to come live with him."

"It sounds like hell."

"Aren't you glad you're in Scotland away from all that mess?" asked Neville.

Hermione met Neville's stare. "Neville, you've no idea how big a curse was dodged when Ron and I split the night of the Battle of Hogwarts."

They ate for a moment in silence, but then Neville looked at her inquiringly and the sapphire ring on her finger. He raised his mug and asked around it, "And are you… seeing anyone at the moment?" His tone had been all too casual.

She nodded, looking down at her ring and then smiled up at him. "I'm very much in a relationship, and I'm honestly the happiest I've ever been."

Neville snapped his fingers, looking reluctant. "My loss. You look happily in love, and quite frankly, are beautiful, Hermione. He's a lucky wizard."

"He's not a wizard," she admitted with a smile. "Although, he is full of magic."

"You're dating a vampire?" Neville asked, his voice shrill.

She laughed. "No. He's muggle. But a most extraordinary muggle. I hope you meet him soon."

She drank some coffee and nipped another bite of toast.

"They fight about you, y'know?" Neville said uncertainly. "Ron and Lav, they errm… Ron constantly compares her to you—"

"Why does Lavender put up with such treatment?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

Neville shook his head. "Don't look at me. I don't know what goes on in the female mind."

"Desperation, apparently," ended Hermione, finishing the last of her coffee and toast before rising. Neville stood with her. "Let me walk you to your first class," he said.

"I'm actually meeting Professor Flitwick in his office today," said Hermione. "He's teaching me advanced charms theory."

Neville gestured she lead them on.

.

.

.

"Who's Neville Longbottom?" Erik asked, looking down at the Marauder's map, watching as Hermione was leaving the Great Hall with this person in tow.

"A classmate of Hermione's and an incompetent botheration in my backside," opined Severus. "If you look in the scrying glass, you can see the two of them walking. All you need do is think of them, and you'll see what she's doing and who she's with."

Erik's eyebrows rose, and they both were looking into the glass, and Professor Snape gasped. "That can't be Longbottom." And he took the glass from Erik and examined it closely. "He turned from an awkward, ugly duckling to a swain, did he not?"

Disgusted, Severus gave Erik back the glass.

The boy was Raoul de Chagny made over. Classically handsome, nose aquiline and beautiful. Teeth even and white. And his profile at home with one of the Athenians in Greece. As he watched, Hermione laughed at something the Adonis said and bumped shoulders with him.

Erik looked to Severus.

Severus had an irritated expression on his face but didn't appear threatened.

Erik sought to appear the same, even if all he wanted to do was find her and keep her away from that handsome lad.

The boy left her with a bow and a wave at her diminutive professor's doorstep, and she went into her professor's office for her lesson.

Erik set the glass aside. "I don't need to check on her throughout the day to ensure she's doing as she ought."

Severus shook his head. "If the map's enough, then very well. I urge upon you the mokeskin bag to carry all your possessions including the sachet of Hermione's charmed floo powder you've taken to carrying."

Erik nodded, reaching into the bag to his elbow. He felt around inside. His strongbox with his wealth was within. Severus nodded. "Only you will be able to access what's in it, and you'll be surprised at all that pouch can hold. It's charmed to be 'featherlight'." He nodded to the scrying mirror as well as the foe glass.

As Erik looked within the foe glass, he saw Ron Weasley yelling across the room to someone, looking supremely irritated. If that was his only foe in this life, then Erik counted himself sincerely blessed.

"Scrying glass, foe glass, Marauder's map, ability to travel via floo anywhere in the castle… yes, I think that covers it." Severus grinned. "Ah, and if you want the ability to play your pipe organ once more, Chastaine, it's yours if you can find it."

"No other clue than that?" Erik asked, his eyes narrowed in thought.

Severus scoffed. "Are you an architect, or aren't you? Have fun. Keep out of the dungeons unless you want to deal with pureblood supremacists intent on making your helpless torture their sport."

Erik laughed.

Severus didn't.

Erik said, "Permission to teach them a lesson they'll never forget if they try?"

Severus' eyes met Erik's. "Only if it's with a velvet glove so it doesn't leave a mark. These are children after all, and their parents teach them no better."

"All the more reason to come to school to learn," ended Erik, and gathering his bounty in his pouch, took his map and cape, and began his journey.

.

.

.

Hogwarts itself was a grand edifice and quite comprehensive.

Erik imagined if he had all the time in the world to explore its secrets, he would only uncover a smattering of them without assistance from others. The portraits had been very helpful as had the students he'd stopped to ask questions.

Those with a 'badger' symbol on their uniforms were especially helpful.

And Erik found himself exploring floor after floor of Hogwarts' school, getting lost in the architecture itself.

There was a room within the school that was missing.

He didn't know how to explain the dimensions of it, for there was approximately a two thousand feet square missing from every floor according to his architect's mind. And this wasn't accountable on the map, and it wasn't accountable according to any portraiture.

"Unless you means the 'Come and Go' room?" said a squint-eyed witch with her pipe. "Perhaps that's what you mean?"

"Where do I find it?" asked Erik.

The witch shook her head. "That's just the thing. You don't find it… it's a Room what finds you."

Her words intrigued him, and he filed this bit of information away for further study when he heard a supercilious voice say, "Selwyn said he was down here by the hag talking to the portraits. Alone and unprotected. We're going to get him back for what he and the mudblood did to Astoria the night he arrived, alright?"

Erik immediately hid behind a suit of armor in a shadowed corner watching as five Seventh year Slytherin boys cast spells upon themselves to 'disappear' from view. Erik could, however, still see them out of the corner of his eye. They all of them had their wands drawn at the ready.

"I don't see him. Do you?" a disembodied voice whispered down the corridor.

"Quiet!" another hushed.

Erik hummed softly his Siren's hum, a voice to enchant and enthrall, and the moment he had all their attention, he said, "You are wizards of romance. You will not remember this conversation or why you're here in this corridor. Each of you will find a muggle partner to fall in love with and marry. If you are seeing someone now, and she or he is not muggle, then you must terminate your relationship and find a muggle worthy of you. Each of you purebloods will produce half-blood spawn. And never again will the name 'mudblood' trip past your lips. You're dismissed."

Watching from his spot behind the armor, he saw as one right after the other, invisibility enchantments were cancelled as wizard after confused wizard appeared in the hall.

They looked at one another, and one said to another somberly, "I've got to find Deanna."

"Same for me with Astoria." The Slytherin wizard looked at the others curiously. "Do any of you feel a sudden need to seek out the muggle world?"

"As a matter of fact," another said, "I propose we plan a trip next Hogsmeade Weekend without the Headmaster knowing to go to the muggle world."

And Erik watched as the five Slytherin boys went off down the hall, their purpose in finding him forgotten as their futures were irrevocably altered for thinking to cross the Phantom of the Opera.

.

.

.

The three of them met up that night at dinner where Hermione was able to introduce Erik to Neville.

"A pleasure," the handsome lad said, shaking his hand. "Hermione told me you were a 'magic man'. I'm relieved to find you're ordinary and not a ghoul or vampire."

Erik looked at Hermione. She shrugged. "Erik is constantly full of surprises. There's no telling what the magician will pull out of his hat when pressed."

"According to Ron, I don't intend to find out," and Neville felt for the skin at his throat.

"Weasley provoked the entire incident," reported Professor Snape from up the table. "He's only himself to blame."

Neville nodded. "That's what I've heard too. Say, errm, Hermione, before I forget, Ron said to 'check your galleon'. I still have mine and check it pretty frequently, so—"

Hermione reached into her beaded bag and withdrew her galleon. It was glowing with an unread message.

Pls 4give me, 'mi, I luv u

Even as she read it, the message changed.

Why choose him ovr me?!

And as soon as that one was read,

He's a bloody muggle!

U're worth a 100 of him!

Choose me instead. We know each other!

You and I were best friends once. We loved each other once.

And you can't just throw that away when you find someone new!

Why won't you answer?!

Fucking slut! Heard from Harry today as he was telling Ginny!

BOTH HERMIONE?! GROSS!

Slut. Whore. Fucking prostitute!

Giving yourself to whoever, spreading it around—

"Hermione, that's quite enough!" said Professor Snape as he read over her shoulder.

She surrendered the coin, and Severus pocketed it.

Hermione was one breath away from tears.

"If you'll excuse me," she whispered softly, dabbing at her eyes with her dinner napkin then fleeing the Great Hall with Erik following after.

Severus, too, excused himself and went on the hunt for her as did Neville.

"Longbottom, this is none of your concern," Severus snapped irritably as the younger man sought to follow him.

"The hell it's not, Headmaster Snape. I'm the one that did that—I caused her to look at that coin. I didn't know he'd send such vile, hateful…." He looked disgusted. "Ron Weasley's no longer a mate of mine."

Severus nodded. "Then that's to your credit. He's done definite damage tonight, and he needs to remember he's not just dealing with his friend any longer, but two older adults who can and will make his life hellacious if he persists in his treatment of Miss Granger. She's more than made it obvious she no longer wants anything to do with him. Now, it's time to make him pay if he thinks to continue bothering her."

Swallowing thickly, Neville nodded and said, "I'll see your message relayed, sir, as well as my own."

Neville and Severus arrived to the back rose garden to find Erik holding Hermione in his arms as he hummed snatches of 'Smoke Gets in Your Eyes' and twirled her about.

She smiled, but it was a watery one, and Severus could see she was still tearful.

Neville went up to Erik. "May I cut in?"

Erik took his measure, and then nodded, continued to hum for them a refrain while Neville looked down at Hermione.

He stopped them dancing and said, "Don't you dare, Hermione Granger, give that lower lifeform another thought. He's out of your life, and out of mine, too, now that I've seen his true character tonight." Neville began dancing them again, this time in a wizard's waltz, lifting her up and beginning to turn her to Erik's song. "And that man you're seeing has a fine voice. Has Flitwick, yet, heard him sing?" asked Neville smiling, turning them a complicated turn.

She grinned and finished the step. "Not yet. We've been focused on my apprenticeship mostly."

"Well, continue on," he spun her out, and she gasped when he magically spun her in again. He caught her around the middle in a hug, saying lowly, "and don't let the Weasel King ever have the ability to make you cry again. Alright?"

He touched the corner of her eyes with his thumb and wiped away the last of her tears before backing away and drawing her hand in his. "Thank you for a lovely dance by the roses, Miss Granger." He bowed over her hand.

"And thank you for cheering her up, Longbottom," said Professor Snape as he stepped beside him. "Now, leave. The girl's apprenticing with me tomorrow, and I guarantee she'll need every single one of her sleeping hours for the day to come." And in his wicked expression was all the promise in the world.

Neville laughed and said lowly, "You're better than me, Hermione. Six years spent under Snape's tutelage was enough."

"Believe me, Longbottom," said a long-suffering Professor Snape, "the feeling's mutual."

.

.

.

"What are you going to do to the boy?" asked Erik later that night as Hermione lay sleeping between them and the coin kept glowing golden in the darkness. Severus wandlessly called it to his grasp and continued to read:

YOU'VE FUCKING GONE MENTAL!

SNAPE, HERMIONE?!

AND A MUGGLE?!

Clearly u need guidance.

What would ur parents say?!

Mum's disgusted.

What would McGonagall say?

I'm telling EVERYONE—

Severus stopped reading there. "It looks like Weasley and I are going to have to have a tête-à-tête tomorrow. Would you like to be there for it, Chazza?"

Erik gently caressed the angel-soft cheek below his fingertips. "You know I'd come lend support, but I'd be more of a liability. I can make no promises whether that boy will die by my hand. Back in my day… I've killed greater men for less, Snape." And Erik let his expression show the murderous intent he now felt towards the Weasley whelp.

"Very well," nodded Severus. "Your preference is known." He tapped his wand on the coin, and it grew warm.

He wrote: Tomorrow. Hog's Head 3pm. Come alone.

"You sure you don't want to come?" asked Severus.

Erik looked at their sleeping angel, still puffy-eyed from her bout of tears. "I'm going to leave this to you, Severus, and spend tomorrow with our angel entertaining her as you have her work on your potion."

Severus nodded. "Very well." And with a 'nox', Severus extinguished the lamps and drew the covers around the three of them. Once more, Hermione nestled in his arms sweetly, and Erik curled around her. Severus curled around them both, and with a contented sigh, fell instantly to sleep.

.

.

.

It's not often that she awoke at night in a panic, but sometimes she did, and tonight was filled with nightmares.

Being labeled a 'slut' and 'whore' when one was actively engaged in a menage trois was probably a normal occurrence by society. After all, what she was involved in… what she'd actively pursued was a deviance from the norm of finding a single man to marry and having children.

And this not being normal, being thought of as 'other', 'apart', and 'gross' were distressing thoughts to have. She turned from them and turned in her sleep until she faced Erik.

She'd been given his love; his and Severus Snape's. And why couldn't she feel that love now? Just the sting of humiliation and shame at being who she was… at becoming who she was becoming.

She moaned in her sleep, and it was fretful.

And suddenly she was on a warm, tropical ocean, riding the crest of a wave. She looked up. The sun's rays were falling gently on her skin as the warm water lapped all around her.

She had a choice to make. She could ride the crest of the wave or gentle down and float back to sleep in her lover's embrace. She chose to return to sleep, nestling into her phantom who was performing his ventriloquist's tricks upon her.

Erik held her to him, thankful he kept her nightmares at bay and prayed to a god he didn't believe in to give him the patience it took to keep him out of jail. He'd been very close to murdering that brat, and tonight, his death warrant was sealed.

If there was a way for Erik to kill the Weasley whelp and get away with it with none the wiser, he was going to find it and complete it.

That was a guarantee.

.

.

"So, explain to me why you're dissecting cockroaches again?" asked Erik as he watched his other half labor over removing the legs without their brittle hairs snapping.

"Because, apparently, I'll be expected to do intricate tasks like this on a daily basis, and if I can manage to remove the limb without massacring its fine hairs too badly, then working with more costly ingredients is in my future. Professor Snape's given me six to try, and I've already massacred the first three. Make that four…!" She put down the tweezers she held before she threw them, the leg crunching into the body of the roach. She looked up at Erik. "I get why he threatened the beetle's eyes; this is torture."

"It's an opportunity for beauty and for grace, angel," said Erik in his angel's voice. "Relax. Breathe deeply. Three glorious breaths in and out. That's it," his perfect voice enthused. Erik watched as she visibly relaxed in front of him. "You're the scalpel, the tweezers an extension of your hand. Your professor wants you to practice your wandless work. You will do so now. Make the cut with your hand in a downwards motion using a spell, use the tweezers to hold the leg."

Hermione did so; it broke off perfectly, and she gently lay the leg down beside the roach.

'Again,' his perfect voice uttered.

She did it perfectly again.

'Once more,' he instructed.

She did as commanded.

"Now, again, angel," Erik said.

She did it wandlessly, this time without a compulsion.

She grinned.

"One more time," Erik said.

She did it on a laugh, and suddenly, she had a perfectly de-legged cockroach with its fine hairs in-tact. She quickly put it under stasis.

"You think you can do the last one on your own?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Well, get to it then," he said as he touched her nose and then pulled a book out of his pouch: this one on healing recommended by Madam Pomfrey. He sat in the corner, and she finished up her project, moving onto the next.

.

.

.

Severus made a point to be precisely five minutes' late to his appointment at the Hog's Head. He entered from the back entrance and observed from just outside the kitchen. He'd chosen this hour specifically as the pub was nearly empty of day drinkers besides the usual barflies and Abelforth tending.

He nodded at Snape, then nodded towards the back of the bar where Weasley sat nursing a pint. It was not Butterbeer. As Severus watched another pint disappeared from sight as if hidden under the folds of invisibility cloak.

Severus rolled his eyes.

That only meant one thing: Weasley had brought Potter.

Good, it was probably good there were witnesses.

"Weasley," Severus greeted.

"Where is she, Snape?" the younger man asked, coming to his feet to stand toe-to-toe with him.

"I'm afraid Miss Granger did not get your messages, but boy, you bet I did." And there was such scorn and contempt in his eyes, Weasley had the good sense to step back. "I insist you have a seat," Severus hissed, pointing his wand and performing 'Mufliato' for everyone else in the bar as well as a notice-me-not charm. He pointed his wand to where Potter sat, and a blast of arctic air blew the folds of the invisibility cloak free. Potter's face appeared chagrined with his mug of butterbeer in hand.

"Professor Snape," he greeted.

Severus ignored him, saying only to Weasley, "You're done. Your attempts at hurting her are done. And your attempts to tarnish Miss Granger's reputation are going to see you sued in a court of law, and if that's not enough, boy, believe me enough misfortune will fall you, and you will never see it coming."

"That sounds like a threat coming from a Death Eater like you, Snape," said Weasley.

Severus didn't react. He let the words stand.

"Ron," interrupted Potter, "what did you say to Hermione on the coin?"

Severus did a double-take. "You mean you don't know, Mr. Potter?" And Severus produced Hermione's coin and tossed it to him. Ronald, the prat, tried to intercept it.

But Harry Potter still had the reflexes of a seeker and caught it easily. Tapping it with his wand, Potter began to read. He paled and looked at Ron in disbelief.

"You sent her these?" he asked.

Ronald gulped. "Harry, she's the one who—"

Harry shook his head. "No." He looked down at the messages and back up at his friend with betrayal written all over his expression. "You won't breathe a word of what you know, you hear me, Ron? You won't say a word. Or if you do, I'll make it my own personal mission to see you're discredited in every way."

"Harry, she's the slag—"

"You disgust me." Potter said, holding out the coin. He then put it down on the table in a precise manner before he hurled it at his so-called friend. "I've read enough. Frankly, I never thought you capable of such terrible, hateful words! We're through, Ron. Our friendship's done." And Severus caught a glimpse of the future Auror Potter would become at that moment. "Now, mind what I've said about Hermione. You're not to contact her or talk to her in any way. You're not to owl her, and you're especially banned from talking about her or her love life to anyone. Ginny will be around as will the twins. I'll let it be known my stance on this, and the reason our friendship's also through—"

"Harry—" Weasley begged.

Potter pointed to the coin, and it heated up with accidental magic, melting into the table. And Severus' eyebrows rose. This was the man that had faced down Voldemort. "Listen," Harry hissed, "Hear what I'm saying. Do not contact Hermione again. Ever. Do not think of her anymore, Ron. You hear me? She doesn't exist to you. She's dead to you, and that's how you need to feel. As for me, I don't want our friendship to continue past this point. You're Ginny's brother, and therefore family, but you're no friend of mine anymore. Professor Snape, do you have any more to add?"

"Only that if a word of what he knows is in any way passed beyond Miss Granger's circle of dearest, he will be hit with a libelous lawsuit as well as given a black mark by me and my still-considerable list of contacts within the underpinnings of the wizarding world, Auror-in-training Potter." Severus' eyes met the younger man's. He understood the threat implied as well as the bait dangled.

Severus was a very valuable ally to have when dealing with seedy underpinnings of the wizarding world. His relaying that could see the odds turn in his favor here and now.

Potter asked, "And by black mark, you mean—?"

"His reputation would be made known to these few who typically curse first and ask questions later—"

"This is illegal, this is! It's conspiracy to murder—" said Ron.

"No, Ron," said Potter. "It's facts. These are all straight facts. You've angered just about every person you know with your attitude and isolated yourself like a hermit. You only fuck Lavender and fight with her about Hermione all day, and you don't give a damn about anything or anyone else besides Quidditch and pints." Harry pointed to the beverage in front of Ron, almost completely drunk. "You're miserable. And you've made damn near everyone else around you miserable. And we're all of us through. This is it."

Harry drew the hood of his cloak and said, "I'd prefer to leave here anonymously. Professor Snape, I hope we meet again under better circumstances. Ron, don't contact me and expect a howler from Ginny later on tonight."

.

.

.

Hermione was abnormally subdued that night between the two of them, and Severus met Erik's stare and said via Legilimency, 'her confidence is shaken.'

Erik subvocalized to him. 'I know, mon frère. I'm working on it. Ballet rats and chorus girls had to be used to developing lewd and scandalous reputations. Our Hermione, however, is a paragon of virtue to the wizarding world. And if our secret comes out….'

Severus winced, then said via Legilimency, 'Could we get ahead of it, you think? Perhaps you should come out in the wizarding world and claim her, Chazza?'

Erik shook his head, petting Hermione's curls as she continued to quietly draw beside him. She was trying her hand at one-point perspective drawing and doing an alright job of it considering this was her first attempt.

'I don't dare with the political climate currently so anti-muggle. I'd paint a target on her back, surely. If anyone's to claim her, it must be you, Rus.' Erik subvocalized.

Severus looked sad. 'Then she'll remain unclaimed for I do not want to tarnish her reputation with my own less-than-sterling name.'

'And this political shitstorm—' Erik led.

'—is a powder keg looking for a spark,' answered Severus.

"I know you're both talking about me. I'm here, you know? I can practically hear your conversation in the silence of the room," she said, continuing to draw. "Perhaps you're concerned I've taken the things that rat said to me to heart. It's hard not to considering I'm the one that led you both into this—"

"Now, wait just a minute—" said Severus.

"I don't think so—" implied Erik.

She continued, "Oh, it's true. It started with the bath, and I've entertained you both ever since, having my wicked, whoring way with you—"

"Angel!" Erik said.

She smiled, and it was bitter. "Or whore depending on which side of the coin you flip. But you know?" She shrugged. "I don't care. I don't care who knows, and I don't care what society thinks. I don't care if our secret's out, and I could give two figs for my 'sterling reputation'."

Her thoughts on the matter echoed so strongly what had just been under discussion between the two of them, Severus and Erik shared an amazed look.

She continued, "I love you both, and that love is all that matters at the end of the day. My true friends will accept it and accept me. The rest can fuck off. If it gets too bad, I can live quite happily and reclusively with two wonderful gentlemen and tell the rest of the world to go hang."

Erik dipped his head low so he was right beside hers. "You are fierce, and you are brave."

Hermione turned to find Professor Snape lowered to her other side, his cheek beside hers. "You are the epitome of the best of your house Gryffindor, Hermione."

"They don't call her 'Princess of Gryffindor' for nothing, do they, Severus?" asked Erik.

"No, she exhibits the finest traits of that house." He caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. She turned her face into his palm. "Apprentice, come here." And Severus held out his arms for her. She folded into his embrace. And then she was reaching for Erik, and Erik was folding her within, and Severus put his hand on Erik's forearm, and Erik put his hand on Severus' shoulder.

"Just hold on, dear angel," said Erik, "and let us show you love. You deserve tenderness and care, and you'll receive both from us tonight."

She nodded but said, "I've got to finish your assigned reading, master—"

"—and you'll do so seated upon my knee, apprentice. No funny business," Severus mock-ordered of her, and she laughed.

He grinned, and it was a shy, furtive thing. Hermione's heart skipped time. She nudged Erik's shoulder with hers. "And I've got to practice my harp. I've yet to do that today."

"Then we shall do so right now."

She shook her head. "My heart's not in it."

Erik nodded. "Are you in the mood to sing instead?"

She shook her head, but then said, "Actually yes, I am. I want you to sing 'God Only Knows' with me. I don't think Severus has ever heard it, or if you have, it would be a memory of your muggle childhood."

"Very well," said Erik, drawing her back into his embrace so she was leaning on his chest, the two of them began to sing to Severus.

They didn't expect the other man to tear up.

They didn't expect him to reach for not only Hermione but Erik at song's conclusion. Erik received a hearty hug and Hermione a kiss that was so sweet and possessive in the most cherished sense it stole her breath.

"You're both my family, and I'll guard and protect you with all that I am." So saying a whipcord of magical energy snaked from Severus Snape's wand to bind around Hermione and Erik's hands where they held. Severus reached for them both, and the binding handfast was sealed.

"What just happened, professor?" Hermione asked him in a soft voice, amazed.

"I just bound myself to you both. You'll find all my affairs in order, everything I have and am is tied to you now. You have—"

"—married us today," Hermione grinned. "You tied your life with ours, Severus Snape, in a bonded handfasting."

He nodded. "I did, at that."

"You'll need a ring," said Erik, "and I've just the thing." He reached into his mokeskin pouch. "I call them 'castor' and pollux'. The Gemini. They are made of yellow gold with onyx stone. I cast them years ago for two brothers I sought to impress and with whom I wanted to curry favor."

"What happened to them?" asked Hermione.

"Alas, the Franco-Prussian war happened, and my contacts were on the wrong side of it. I'm told it was a quick death which, if one is dealing in wartime, one should count that as a mercy."

"Quite," agreed Professor Snape, examining the fine craftsmanship on his ring. Hermione took it from his hand and performed a charm.

"There now. It's charmed and will be impervious to most natural pollutants." She put it on the fourth finger of his left hand and tapped it with her wand to size it accordingly. It barely had to be adjusted.

Hermione then bid Erik give her the other ring, and she performed the same spell, slipping it on the ring finger of Erik's left hand. It fit perfectly. "Three against the world?" she asked, holding out her left hand.

"My beloveds are mine, and I am theirs," said Erik, joining hands with her.

Severus put his left hand atop both theirs. "'til death do we part."

Severus kissed her long and passionately, and then Erik was reaching for her lips, sampling her kiss, drawing her into his arms as Severus said, "Your potions reading can hang. Tomorrow's a study period. Get undressed and part your thighs, Hermione. I want to taste you."

"And Severus, I want to taste you."

Severus and Hermione's heads whipped around. Erik's desire for this act was there keenly for them to see. "I only wish to provide you pleasure, mon frère. And I want to be involved."

"I've never…." Severus looked down at his eager wizard's staff.

"Neither have I…." admitted Erik.

The thought of Erik performing so intimate a task for him… it was undeniable Severus was aroused at the thought, and his balls tingled in anticipation.

"Please don't feel ashamed," Hermione said. "It's only pleasure between us, and we only want to inspire that within one another." An idea occurred to her, and she laughed, the sound wicked. With a wave of her wand, her fourposter expanded to be the size of a California king taking up most of the room. "It's always good to have more real estate, don't you think?" she asked the other two and banished her clothes to a neatly folded pile beside the acre of bed.

She looked to them both. Severus looked to Erik and nodded, and Erik, looking relieved, began to disrobe. With a wave of his hand, Severus Snape's buttons began to unbutton, and then he was walking out of his clothes straight into the bed where he joined Hermione and drew her in his arms. He kissed her deeply and sweetly before saying, "The instigator to our amorous play you might be, Hermione, but never for one moment doubt I'm unwilling when it comes to experimentation with you both." And Severus reached for Erik, drawing him into their embrace, and the three of them lay naked, savoring this moment and one another.

It was Hermione that moved first, reaching to cup and stroke them both. She ducked her head down and suddenly, she was performing kissing suction for not one, but both of them, one right after the other. She then turned to Erik and drew him in her mouth, turning in bed and presenting her quim for Severus to kiss.

Erik moaned as she set to work, Severus also set to his task, and it was with realization her maestro saw what she had planned. They formed a circle where they lay: an ouroboros of pleasure, and if he were to complete Severus, then they could all attain release.

Severus' staff bobbed eagerly as Erik knelt before him. Hermione was gentle on her lover, letting him focus on his task instead of on her pleasuring of him meanwhile Severus was centered on providing her satisfaction.

Her thighs began to quake as she moaned around Erik's staff in her mouth. Severus inserted a finger, and Hermione heard him gasp into her quim.

She looked over. Erik had taken Severus in his mouth and was sucking on him. Severus groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Hermione knew Erik played every instrument he attempted proficiently. And he seemed earnest and so completely centered on his task of pleasuring the potion master. Weakly, Severus reached for Hermione once more, turning into her and returning to his task of pleasuring her. And the three of them began to sup and suck, the only sounds in the room besides the crackling of the fire were their sounds of passion and quiet moans.

It was Severus that attained pleasure's peak first, shouting, "Christ! Chastaine, I'm cumm—" He tried to pull free, but Erik wouldn't have it, taking all he had to give and cleaning him free of the traces of his passion.

And too, it wasn't long before Erik was flooding her mouth with the taste of him, and she swallowed every drop of him gratefully.

Severus, meanwhile, had two fingers in her puss and one in her back passage, and he was currently drawing the pearl of her desire between his two front teeth. She shattered in a million rainbow shards in their arms and fell from heaven back to the acre of bed on a bliss-filled sigh. Opening her eyes, relaxed and spent, she studied them both.

They both studied her.

She grinned a pirate's grin.

Severus scoffed, and Erik laughed, the sound giddy.

It was a blessed communion of souls.

.

.

.

"What's one thing you regret not doing when you were my age?" she asked them both later on that night as they lay wrapped together in each other's arms.

"Not traveling when I could've done," said Severus. "My life's been lived here in Scotland and Cokeworth. I've known nowhere else."

Hermione and Severus looked towards Erik.

"You've both quite cured me of my regrets." Erik shrugged. "I have none. Alright, perhaps not being able to pack my pipe organ… my one-of-a-kind, steam-powered creation."

Hermione looked shocked. "You mean you haven't found the pipe organ—?"

"Shh, quiet, apprentice!" hissed Severus cutting her off. "He's got to go on walkabout and find these things for himself."

Erik looked between the two of them, both looking guileless and surprised respectively, and he felt his heart spill over for the love of them both. Severus reached up and drew Erik down so he was nestled beside Hermione.

"What's put that spot of mist in your eye, Chazza?" asked Severus.

"I never knew life could be so full," admitted Erik. "This time last year, I was wishing I were dead. And now, I only wish this life were longer so I get to spend more time with you both."

"Oh, Erik." Hermione drew her phantom in her arms and kissed him sweetly. Erik kissed her deeply with all the passion and the love he felt for her.

Severus squeezed his shoulder. "I'd like you to begin a daily potion regiment like Hermione and I take. I'll need to first analyze your blood. Apprentice, this will be tomorrow's lesson instead of your study period."

She grinned. "I look forward to it, master." She kissed both their cheeks and wandlessly called the covers to cover them all the while performing the math problem seventy-three times eleven.

"Eight-hundred three," she whispered instead of 'nox', and closed her eyes, nestling against Severus. Severus reached for Chastaine's arm, and Chastaine nestled his body against Hermione.

Severus whispered 'nox', and the lights went off.

.

.

.

A/N: Thank you so much for the follows, the favorites, and the review. ChipzGrMione, I dedicate this chapter to you. Your review made my day. –Lora