Chapter 17: Thestrally Yours
"I'm not sure what you are intending to do with that cage, Mr. Foxworthy, but I guarantee you I did not order one, nor do I want it in my laboratory," Severus droned lowly as he looked over the rim of his book.
The young man who had been holding tight to the bundle in his arms until that point, visibly jumped into the air with a cry and the cage in his hand crashed to the ground. Foxworthy backed up into the door he had come through, causing it to slam shut, which caused the young man to stumbled over the cage he had just dropped.
There was a crack as he fell on top of the cage and the student ended up sprawled across the laboratory floor as a bundle of unnaturally purple fur zoomed out of the cage with a terrified yowl.
Severus, perhaps realising that his effort to enjoy his book in peace rather than pieces, closed his book with a snap and set it down on the table in front of him. His dark black eyes smoldered with a fire that no student of Hogwarts could mistake for anything other than the kind of annoyance that bespoke of long detentions peeling the skins off of grubs by hand until the barrel was full.
Standing, Severus shrugged his shoulders one by one, causing his outer robe to drape like a living thing across his shoulders. For a moment, the echo of his dark harpy eagle wings seemed to fan outward from his body and fold across his back, but he did not show any other indication of impending transformation.
"Is there a reason for your unexpected visit and subsequent release of a highly unnaturally purple furred whatever that was in my classroom laboratory, Mr. Foxworthy, or should I just start taking points until your mouth stops gaping like a fish?" Severus rumbled lowly, his voice seeming to hang in the air like fog.
Foxworthy gulped and much to Severus' expectations, proceeded to gape at him much like a goldfish in a bowl. Meanwhile, as Severus attempted to approach to assess the damage to either Foxworthy, the cage, and the nearby desk that the student had tumbled into, a blur of purple fur remade an appearance and latched onto the bottom of his robe.
Narrowing his eyes, Severus made out the form of a cat, if anything that obnoxiously purple could be considered a cat. It attacked his robe with claws and teeth, making a noise that sounded like the Hogwart's Expression engine with a cold. It was not remotely attractive, nor was the sound of the animal's attack on the innocent fabric of his robe. It took a great deal of control to not give into the immediate and instinctive need to shake his leg and fling the attacker off his person.
Thanking the highly protective nature of the fabric he wore the majority of his life, grabbed the animal by the scruff of the neck and pointed his wand at it. "Stupefy," he growled, causing the animal to cease its attack on him. "Relaxo." The animal went limp and he held it out to the still gaping student.
Foxworthy seemed to finally gain back a portion of his senses, and he struggled to pull himself off the floor. He reopened the cage he had been carrying and placed the strangely colored animal back in and latched the door. "It's Camille, Sir," he managed to say. "Somehow she turned herself into a cat."
One of Severus' eyebrows lifted into his hair. "A purple cat?"
Foxworthy looked at him with desperation. "She doesn't even act like she knows anyone. She's attacked every leg she can get her claws into, and half of Hufflepuff has bloody legs just from the last hour of us trying to put her into that cage to bring her here."
The Potion Master looked down at the quivering student with a combination of curiosity and disgust. "Why have you brought her to me, Mr. Foxworthy?"
"When we found her," Foxworthy confessed, "She was surrounded in spilled potions, Sir. I think she was working on her potions homework."
Severus narrowed his eyes. "I can guarantee you there is nothing in the creation of burn paste and sunburn lotion that will cause that, Mr. Foxworthy, even if she botched it completely. I'm afraid she will have to goto Madam Pomfrey first to make sure she is not suffering from something hidden underneath that very purple fur."
Foxworthy nodded sullenly, perhaps hoping for a more instantaneous cure.
Severus closed his eyes a moment. "I am a Potion Master, Mr. Foxworthy, not an instantaneous cure-all maker," he said softly. "Come. Let us go to the hospital wing before something else happens to Miss Lowe and she finds herself chased by a large red dog."
Severus sneered as Foxworthy paled and hurried along with Camille Lowe's carrier cage, apparently missing the potion master's sly Muggle storybook humour. Severus walked behind the boy, his dark robes swishing behind him.
-O-o-o-o-o-o-
"You lost what, Hagrid?" Hermione asked, arching a brow with her best impartial professorial expression on her face.
"My box of chicken and goose eggs for the thestrals," Hagrid repeated as he looked through the crates and items in his hut.
"I can't imagine why you can't find them," Hermione said dryly as she avoided the dust cloud and opened the nearby window to allow the dust to go out. Her impassive expression stayed on her face a few minutes before a grin replaced her lack of emotion and she enthusiastically helped Hagrid search for his crate of eggs.
After about an hour of hefting, heaving, dragging, dusting, shuffling, sneezing, and laughing, Hagrid's crate of chicken and goose eggs sat on his now shiny and freshly oiled wooden table next to his cleaned table settings, strangely bright and shiny cuttlery, and stoneware plates Hagrid didn't even remember having until Hermione cleaned them off. Had the both of them not been the ones that had done the cleaning, neither of them would have recognised the place.
Prince sneezed from his perch on the armchair causing Pyre to fluff her feathers out like a feather duster. She pecked Prince's beak, and he rubbed his beak against hers apologetically.
Sparks and Ignis poked their heads out from under Pyre's wings with interest, giving their own smaller sneezes.
"I get the hint," Hagrid groused as he sat down in his old armchair.
Hermione smiled as she passed Hagrid the plate of cookies near her. "Julius sends his love," she said with a smile.
"Ahhh, quite the cook that one," Hagrid chuckled, popping one of the cookies in his mouth. "He's getting as good as Molly Weasley, he is."
Hermione smiled at the complement to her son. "I'll be sure to let him know," she replied with a grin. "Minerva has been teaching him how to make all sorts of traditional Scottish fare as well."
Hagrid smiled at her, stroking his beard absently. "I bet he remembers it all too."
Hermione nodded. "Far easier than I had to when I was his age. I did have to work for my memory."
" 'ow is the investigation into the little green pills, 'ermione?" Hagrid asked.
"Slowly, I fear," Hermione admitted. "We know what is in them now, at the very least, but we are no closer in figuring out where they are coming from, Hagrid."
Hagrid frowned. "I'm sorry, 'ermione," he said with a shake of his head. "I wish I 'ad something to 'elp ya there."
"It's okay, Hagrid," Hermione answered sadly. "Somehow I doubt you have a potions laboratory hidden away under your crates in here."
Hagrid gave a small laugh. "No, I don't think so anyway. We'd 'ave found it by now, I think, if I did."
"True enough," Hermione agreed with a nod. She smiled as she noticed Hagrid dosing off a little in his comfortable chair. It wasn't long before the half-giant was slumped completely with a soft snore. While the man was never a hyperactive sort, he had slowed down noticeably in his later years. He could still keep up with students and the creatures he tended, but for those that knew him from years previous, they noticed that he enjoyed more naps of spontaneity than before.
Hermione grabbed the quilt on the nearby chair and cast it over Hagrid with a small smile. She picked up the crate of eggs with a twitch of her lips, and inclined her head in a "let's go" gesture. The phoenixes launched off the chair backs and settled upon her shoulders as she let herself out of Hagrid's hut and closed the door behind her.
The trail towards the thestral herd was slightly overgrown, making Hermione halt in her walk a few times to disentangle herself from a few brambles that blocked her way. The almost skeletal looking thestrals whickered happily upon her approach, recognizing her scent long before she made out the distinctive stallion of the herd. The proud creature approached first even as the younger thestrals of the herd attempted to prance forward, but the older stallion snorted at them, body blocking them from approach until he checked out the visitor first.
Hermione held out an egg in her hand as the stallion approached and he lipped at it with his lips and crunched the offering, his eyes rolling towards her as his ears twitched. He snuffled her face in greeting and rubbed his nose against her cheek, causing Prince and Pyre to puff their feathers out and warble in half curiosity. Despite the thestrals tendency to adore birds on the menu, Hermione never had to worry about them trying to go after the phoenixes. The creatures always seemed to know that the phoenixes were off limits, much like the owls that came to and fro with post. The eggs, however, were a special treat for the herd, and there wasn't one of the herd that didn't know what a crate under the arm of visitor meant. Hermione slowly ran her hand against the stallion's nose and between the ears.
The stallion whickered softly, snuffling her ears, and tossed his head, and the rest of herd seem to take that as his stamp of approval. They all approached, surrounding her with curious whickers and nose nudges, accepting the gift of eggs with gentle lips and slightly egg-scented snuffles of gratitude.
There were a few new foals and fillies standing by their dams, and Hermione smiled as they too came up to partake of the eggs as well as imprint her scent upon their collective memory of friends of the herd. One of the smaller fillies bumped her head against Hermione playfully until she wrapped her arm around her back and scratched her itches for her with her hands. The young thestral whickered as Hermione soothed her itchy wings and one of the other young thestrals came up and bumped her out of the way, jealously rubbing up against Hermione for some of the attention.
Hermione laughed, scratched and soothing each of the younger thestrals until all of them lipped her fingers into their mouths and leaving her slightly slobbered upon. There may have been a time when such a thing would have grossed her out, but Hermione had had far worse things than thestral saliva inflicted upon her throughout her life.
After about an hour, all the eggs in the crate were gone, but the herd stayed around her as if they were happy to have company that could attend to them. Being able to see them was rare enough. Enjoying their company was something that was even more rare to the herd. She was happy, at least, that the thestrals enjoyed eggs as a treat, as she really didn't want to have to carry around a bag of raw steak.
Hermione walked with the herd as they weaved their way through the trees together, seemingly unhurried and uncaring as to which direction they went as long as they did it together. The stallion took up a place beside her as they walked, nipping at the young thestrals to send them trotting back towards their dams. They squealed in protest, not wanting to leave their new playmate. A few more nips and snorts later, the chastened young thestrals seemed to pout back towards their mothers, but they would look back on Hermione wistfully as they walked.
As the herd exited the forest into a clearing, the mare in front of her had moved a bramble with her chest. The bramble snapped backwards after the mare cleared it, smacking into Hermione. The thorns slammed into her neck where her robe collar did not quite protect her, causing her to hiss in pain. Pyre and Prince went aloft, managing to somehow avoid being slapped with the branch altogether, for which Hermione was grateful.
She winced as she pried the bramble off herself and stepped into the clearing, allowing the branch to go back into place. Her neck stung where the thorns had torn into her and she felt a trickle of warmth sliding down her skin.
The stallion was snuffling her neck with his nose curiously and in a flash of movement clamped his mouth around her neck. Hermione froze as his teeth pressed against her skin, squeezing her flesh as if to leave his mark upon her. She felt the warmth of his breath and his tongue flicked across her wounded skin. She dared not move. The thestrals had never hurt her before and had never done anything of the like before. She was at a bit of a loss as to what to do in the new situation, given how awkward and sudden it was. The stallion tightened his grip slightly, nostrils flaring into her hair.
The stallion released her neck and snuffled her, seemingly satisfied with his manoeuvre. He licked her neck and the side of her cheek almost as in in apology. Hermione patted his head with a soothing caress, still slightly baffled.
One of the older mares extended her neck and snuffled Hermione's somewhat abused neck, her exhales causing Hermione's hair to flutter. The old mare nickered and rubbed her body against hers as she passed. Prince and Pyre resettled upon her shoulders with a comforting warble.
As if she had just passed some sort of strange hazing ceremony, the herd seemed to relax even more, allowing their young to make their way back to her once more. When one foal got a little too rough, she shoved the foal away with a swat of her hands, baring her teeth like the stallion had earlier in a gesture she didn't even realise she had done until it was already completed. The foal sulked back to his dam immediately, his place almost immediately taken by one of the younger fillies, who nudged her head under Hermione's arm and squealed playfully. Hermione ruffled the fillies wings and smiled as she extended each wing and tried to whap her hands with them.
The herd started acting restless and the stallion tossed his head. The elder mare whuffed a reply as the herd began to run, wings unfurled to catch the updrafts and go aloft. The stallion whickered to Hermione, tossing his head and standing in front of her. He curved his neck around and lipped her sleeve with his mouth.
Hermione touched his back and looked into his eyes, wondering if she had read the invitation correctly. The thestral snorted softly in reply.
She shrunk the crate she was carrying down and tucked it away in her robe. With a few bounces, she vaulted her stomach up onto his back and swung her leg around. Prince and Pyre flapped their wings to balance themselves and she settled on his back, wrapping her fingers in the sparse mane hair.
The stallion broke into a trot then a canter, finally speeding up into a gallop, his wings flipping out to catch the updraft. With a leap, they were airborne, and the entire herd flew in unison over the trees back towards Hogwarts. Prince and Pyre flew off her shoulders and glided in the air with the flying thestrals, chirruping sociably.
Hermione closed her eyes, feeling the wind blowing through her hair, for once not feeling the wind blowing under her own wings. It was disorientating, in a way, not to be in her harpy eagle form while in the air, but she was caught in the excitement of the herd. There was no denying the exhilaration of being in the air astride the back of a creature far more resilient than their delicate looking bodies conveyed. The gift the herd gave her was unspoken and unmistakable even to one such as her, who could soar with the power of her own wings.
The herd circled around Hogwarts a number of times, weaving in and around the towers with an almost playful aerial stride. They nickered to each other as they flew down towards Hagrid's hut. Hermione braced herself for landing, but was surprised as the impact was so light that she hardly felt it.
The herd landed around her, folding their wings upon hitting the ground. Hermione slid down off of the stallion's back. She stroked his wings and bowed her head in thanks for the ride back to Hagrid's. He nudged her with his head before the herd disappeared back into the forest like ghosts phasing through the walls.
"Always making friends in unlikely places," Severus commented as he stepped out of the shadow of Hagrid's roof. His pale hand clasped the covers of the book he was reading together with a clack. He tucked away the book with a tilt of his head. "How very Gryffindor of you."
Hermione pulled the shrunken crate from her robe and enlarged it with a tap of her wand. She placed it on Hagrid's front step and walked into Severus' embrace without hesitation. "Hello," she murmured into his chest. "Were you waiting long?"
Severus touched her hair gently. "A few chapters worth," he said softly. He tilted his head. "What happened to your neck?" He pulled her hair back and touched the skin of her neck.
"A bramble attacked me," Hermione explained. "The stallion decided to check me out with his teeth."
Severus snorted. "You always have had friends with strange habits, my witch."
Hermione pshed. She pulled away and pulled multiple strands of long shimmering hair off her robe. "At least my friends leave me unique gifts?"
Severus held out a vial as Hermione guided the hairs into the vial. "You seem to have an entire herd's worth here, and I don't think I need to remind you how atypical and rare it is to have an excess of thestral anything on hand?"
Hermione smiled at him. "Happy… not birthday?"
Severus gave her an amused look, his eyebrow lifting into his hair with a twitch of his mouth. "Only you, Hermione, could go out to deliver cookies and come back covered in thestral hair and… slobber." He tucked the vial away in his robe. He pulled out another vial and used the wand to clean the thestral saliva off her neck and robes and guided that too into the vial, corking it with a graceful flick of his pale fingers. He tucked the vial into his robe with a casual movement and touched her chin with his fingertips. "You do share with me the most interesting of gifts, my wife."
Hermione cast her eyes upward as if to peer at a halo only she could see. "Only the best for you, my husband," she replied softly, her face completely impassive save the warmth from her eyes. She held the expression for a minute before her warmth spread into the rest of her face and she grinned at him in earnest, bouncing on her tiptoes to place a kiss upon his lips.
Prince and Pyre trilled from the sky as they circled above them.
Severus looked upward. "I do believe our presence is being requested."
Hermione cast her gaze upward and smiled at the pair of circling phoenixes. "Demand, demand, demand. I wonder where they learned that from?"
Severus met her gaze with a very skillfully crafted expression of innocence.
Hermione countered with a dubious expression of her own.
"Hagrid is still snoring inside. Would you care to join me for dinner?" Severus said with a sniff.
"Of course," Hermione smiled back at him.
The two professors stared at each other, unmoving. Then, as if by a cue that only they could see, leapt into the air, their dark wings spreading and beating until the thermals assisted them aloft. The two animagi banked towards Hogwarts. Hermione gave a clarion call as her tail flipped to the side and she caught an updraft to carry her even further into the sky. Severus replied with a scolding series of sounds, chasing her through the parapets of Hogwarts as the phoenixes playfully looped around them.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
A/N: This chapter was brought to you by the letter "E" thanks to my passing my endocrine exam. This chapter is celebratory in defiance of all the brain cells I lost studying Addisons Disease over the last week, which is due to low cortisol and has wonderful symptoms like hypotension, hypoglycemia, hyponatremia, and hyperkalemia. Oh and don't forget confusion, apathy, psychosis, strange inexplicable tans, and vascular collapse. Such an exciting topic! (This is why I prefer writing this story, I think, lol! I'll take thestrals over vascular collapse any day!)