Chapter 3: Fountains and Phoenixes
"Hrm," Minerva said as she stared at the chunk of rock in front of her. "I wonder."
"What are you making, Auntie?" Julius asked, bouncing on his toes.
"I'm not sure yet, Julius," Minerva admitted as she continued to stare at the rock. A smile spread across her face and she pulled out her wand, tapping the rock with it and waving her wand in a long combination of movements.
The rock was surrounded in a flash of light and transfigured itself into what appeared to be a fountain with a perch. She touched the fountain with her wand, filling it with water. The water filled the reservoir and burbled, steam rising from the water.
Julius beamed at his aunt with excitement. "Is that for Ember?"
"Mhmm," Minerva said with a chuckle. "Shall we see if she likes it?" McGonagall moved the fountain perch to the small side table.
Julius cupped the dozing chick on his shoulder and placed her on the perch and waited.
The half asleep chick peeped curiously, opening her eyes and looking around. She yawned beakily and then blinked, peering down below her where the steaming water was sending vapors into her downy body. Ember peeped excitedly, flapping her wings with excitement, holding them out like a sunning vulture to catch all the vapors. Within a minute, the chick was extremely fluffy and didn't seem to mind in the slightest.
"Could you teach me how to do that, Auntie?" Julius asked McGonagall with an excited look.
The Headmistress smiled. "Of course. Fetch me some stones from the box there, please?"
Julius scurried off to fetch the lake stones that were set in a box by her desk. He came back with a few in his hand.
Minerva grasped on in her hand and placed it on the nearby desk. She beckoned Julius over. "Stand up straight, Julius. Wand straight." She tapped his elbow and moved it up slightly.
Julius did exactly as he was bade, focusing on every detail his aunt was giving him.
Minerva stood beside him, holding out her wand. "The motion is like this. Watch me first, then copy me as I do it."
Julius nodded and watched as she showed him the entire movement. She slowed it down for him to copy. They repeated it over and over until the motion was burned into his muscle memory. Julius, however, did not complain. Learning from his aunt something that wasn't to be found in a classroom textbook was as much of a treat as oatmeal raisin cookies right off the baking pan in his grandmother's kitchen.
Minerva pronounced the incantation. He repeated it. She pronounced it again. He repeated it until it was flawless.
Smiling, she inclined her head to the rock in front of them, poking his stomach so he would straighten up.
Julius stood properly, focusing his intent with pure force of will, waved his wand with his incantation, and sent the spell flying into the rock on Minerva's desk.
With a pop, the rock shuddered on the desk, hopped, and became a fountain. It wasn't quite as detailed as his aunts, nor did it have any ornate trimmings, but it was definitely a fountain.
Minerva smiled proudly at her happy nephew, bowing her head in acknowledgment of his accomplishment.
Julius threw all decorum out the window as he glomped his aunt around the waist with a happy cry of accomplishment.
Minerva's soft laughter proved that she didn't mind in the slightest.
Minerva placed another rock on the desk. "Again, young Julius," she said with a smile. "This time picture more detail in your mind of the basin."
Julius nodded and stood up straight once more, extending his wand in front of him with precision. His lips flattened into a line of concentration as he called the image of what he wanted into his mind.
Many hours later, had anyone bothered to visit the Headmistress' Office that evening, they would have found a young boy finishing his homework in the middle of the Headmistress' floor. There would have been about twenty different variants of a steaming water fountain scattered about the room, a very happy and fluffy looking phoenix chick, and a smug looking silver tabby curled up under her studious nephew's arm.
Had anyone bothered to look up, they would have seen the portrait of Albus Dumbledore looking down at them with fondness, the twinkle of approval sparkling in the old wizard's painted eyes.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Hermione shot straight up from the teaching desk, sending a few parchments flying to the floor. Her eyes darted back and forth in a panic as she took in her surroundings.
"Mistress?" Wayne Mitchell said with a concerned voice as he picked up the displaced parchments. "Are you okay?" Wayne was used to Hermione's exhausted naps that usually took place in the middle of the teaching desk while surrounded in grading. After experiencing himself what it was like to fill potion orders, juggle students, grade parchments, keep students from blowing themselves up, and then accompany her while she wrangled her own children, juggled Deputy Headmistress duties, herded phoenixes, wrangled owls, and somehow kept her husband from killing his House's children while keeping her own House in line… Wayne Mitchell did not begrudge his Mistress any sort of impromptu nap, wherever or whenever it might occur.
"Ugh," Hermione said, rubbing the area between her eyes.
Wayne smiled to himself. His Master and his Mistress shared many unconscious habits between them. It was infinitely easier to spot them on Hermione than on Severus, but he had no doubt the habit exchanges went both ways through the bond their shared. Unnervingly enough, the more he worked with them both, he found himself doing much the same. He would coo at his baby phoenix like Hermione did over all of the phoenixes and, in the same breath, snap at someone who was about to put the wrong ingredient into their cauldron. Wayne had found Severus and Hermione staring at him one afternoon after a particularly snarly vent on a poor Hufflepuff who had blown up his cauldron onto his lab partner. Their faces had been, much to his chagrin, amused and proud. They hadn't even bothered to add their own venom into the mix. Apparently, he had, at that very moment, proved he was perfectly capable of dressing down the poor Hufflepuff without assistance from either of them.
"You seemed a little distressed, Hermione," Wayne observed. "Would you like some tea?"
"Please," Hermione said with a shake of her head. The two phoenix chicks hidden in her hair peeped and hopped down on the desk to explore now that their mistress was awake. The bonds between Hermione, Severus, and all of the phoenix chicks were amazingly strong. Even Keegan, who had chosen Wayne as his main person of interest, would straighten up and listen to Hermione and Severus attentively if they were nearby.
Wayne brought a tea tray over to the desk and set it down, pouring Hermione a cup before his own. She took the cup with a smile of gratitude, and quaffed it without even bothering to doctor it with anything.
Wayne found his eyebrow lifting in automatic curiosity.
"I dreamed I was married to Ronald Weasley," Hermione said with a sigh. "I was surrounded in about twelve red-headed children, was being constantly talked to about Quidditch, and every one of them had horrible table manners. And every one of them were using my favorite books to sit on at the table."
Wayne Mitchell stared wide-eyed at his Mistress and poured her another cup of tea, accioing a chocolate pastry from the hidden stash in the classroom and placing it in front of her. "I'm… very sorry," he placated with sympathy. He had heard many stories about the red-headed member of the Golden Trio, and while Hermione always rolled her eyes at the name for the group of her childhood friends, she did admit there were many adventurous stories to be shared between the three of them.
Hermione devoured the chocolate pastry with gusto, pausing only to share a bit of the bread with the two chicks who were watching her with hopeful eyes and open beaks.
Wayne felt a squirming on his shoulder and realized Keegan was trying to go down and join his siblings in mischief. He scooped the chick off his shoulder and placed him down with the others, watching them tumbled over each other, slap their beaks together, preen, and generally make a nuisance of themselves.
"I see Ember is missing," Wayne noticed. "Julius must have taken her to Ollivander's with him?"
"She loves visiting Ollivander's," Hermione said with a smile. "Mind you, she loves going anywhere with Julius."
Wayne grinned. "He has a way with all the chicks, I think. I saw him teaching the group of them how to dance for broccoli."
Hermione smiled. "He taught them all how to gang up on Bast. Poor cat didn't know what to do. She knew better than to try and take a bite out of one, but she didn't like being pinned down by a bunch of fluffy chicks either. Rose had to rescue her."
Wayne snickered and nodded. "Bast can be a handful. I've had to dock points from Slytherin for her being out after curfew chasing her cat around the corridors."
Hermione shook her head. "Oh for the amount of times Crookshanks used to get me in so much trouble with Severus and Argus back in the day."
Wayne considered asking something but held back.
Hermione eyed him with a lifted eyebrow. "Go ahead and ask, Wayne. I can see your gears turning."
Wayne grinned. "How did you and Severus get along when you were a student?"
Hermione gave a petulant look. "In a word? Horribly."
"Truly?" Wayne tilted his head. "I honestly cannot imagine you two being anything but what you are now, to be honest. Even back when I was eleven and was convinced I wasn't going to survive my first year at Hogwart's."
"Surely you have noticed our nicknames for each other?" Hermione grinned.
"But you say it with such a smile," Wayne protested. "Well as much of a smile as you can get from Severus."
"I've always been the insufferable know-it-all," Hermione smiled at him. "It wasn't always kind." Hermione seemed to consider something. "You will find that students will think what they will of you, regardless of what you do. There are those, even now, who think I'm the second native dungeon bat of Hogwart's, and nothing will convince them otherwise. I will admit, however, that most of those that do are usually on the explosive side of a cauldron more often than not."
Hermione had somehow managed to finish her tea and all the markings on parchments while the phoenix chicks chased each other around the desk. She shooed a chick off her quill holder and recapped her ink well before a curious chick ended up dyed a spectacularly bright correction red.
One chick, who had started to grow out only her bright yellow feathers in random places, had gained the name "Sparks." She was dutifully pecking her brother "Ignis" on the beak. Ignis, much like his namesake, was starting to emanate flames around his fluffy body.
Hermione, completely unfazed, scooped up the flaming phoenix chick and placed him in her hair, saving him from his sister's hen peckery. Ignis seemed to calm immediately, settling in Hermione's hair with a contented chirp. Wayne lifted a brow, wondering if that was the little bird's intention all along.
Sparks proceeded to peck at Keegan with a chirp, but Keegan ignored her, tolerating her pecks until she grew bored of it and settled down beside him, preening his head crest.
"Ever wonder why they never seem to burn you or Severus when they are on fire?" Wayne asked curiously.
Hermione blinked. "Actually no. That is kind of strange, isn't it? Then again, I am somewhat happy for that, considering how often I end up with flaming birds in my hair."
Wayne laughed. "I consider myself fortunate that Keegan has been exceedingly mellow with no great propensity to set himself alight and take out half of my hair."
"Thank Merlin for that," Hermione said in agreement. "Think of all the gossip in the Great Hall if you were to show up at the Head Table with half of your hair singed."
Wayne shuddered.
As if the conversation about flaming birds was a cue, Severus entered the classroom in a swirl of his cloak, two flaming phoenixes upon his shoulders and a very sour expression on his face that spoke of unspeakable curses and painful ends.
Wayne bowed instinctively, stepping away from Hermione with respect to his Master. It had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with respect. It was ingrained in him with the same automation as breathing.
Hermione stood from the desk and rose to meet her husband without a word. She closed in the last few steps and placed her hands upon his face, drawing his head down to touch hers. They stood there, silently, until the whirling flames on Pyre and Prince dissipated. After a few minutes, Pyre chirped melodiously, preening Ignis with her beak. Prince set his beak over Severus' head and peeped like a chick.
Hermione stepped back with a smile on her face, gently caressing her husband's cheek with her fingers. Severus stared down into the eyes of his wife, his own black irises seemed to darken. "We have Hogsmeade duty this weekend," Severus said with a sniff.
Wayne groaned softly, his hand slapping himself in the face.
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A/N: Um… I will admit to some neglect on my part. I have totally forgotten to pair up Ron with "someone" for when Hermione and Severus see them at say… the Burrow or walking down Diagon Alley or something. Any ideas on who WOULD be good for Ron to be paired up with? I honestly have no idea. Feel free to comment and give me ideas on this one. I will admit complete and utter writer's block in this area. I guess I could make him the chronic bachelor, but that seems like the coward's way out.