Summary: SSHG, AU, Sirius Black hates Severus Snape. When an ugly confrontation occurs between them at Grimmauld Place, Sirius throws an old Black family curse at him, only to have Hermione Granger attempt to stop him. She's hit head-on, and everything changes— starting with her. As her fellow students shun her more than ever, certain things thought long dead come to light, casting an ever-greater shadow over the champions of light.

Beta Love: The Dragon and the Rose, Dutchgirl01, Flyby Commander Shepard

Warning: Not canon, SSHG, HEA, probably crack


Heart of Stone

Chapter 4

People who think they know everything are a great annoyance to those of us who do.

Isaac Asimov


Vigilance trotted down the hallway, his cherished flask clasped between his jaws as he roamed passed the portraits. His claws click, clicked on the stone floor in a light cadence as he bounced his way around Hogwarts. He loved exploring, but every time things started getting super interesting, Hermione and Severus would find him. They wouldn't necessarily stop him from exploring, but they'd sit by and watch as if he might suddenly fall off a high place or something—

As if.

Gosh.

It only happened once.

The tasty gems in the hourglasses had looked so tempting.

Really, if the gems hadn't looked so tantalisingly delicious, he'd never have been so distracted—

How was he supposed to know that carpets could move on their own? Staircases? That the hourglasses were charmed to flee?

How was that even fair?

At least the owls knew how to play the game, and he knew they were moveable playmates from the start. He knew if he caught one, he was never to use too much pressure. He would place them in his mouth like his treasured flask if but for a few seconds and then release them. It would never be good to damage a friend and playmate. That would be horrible!

Who would he play with then?

Well, he tried to play with Severus or Hermione, but they would try and pin him down and bathe him. He didn't want to be bathed! He wanted to out there finding new places and adventure!

The adults did the same thing. Pin. Bathe. Teach. Pin. Bathe. Teach.

All that bathtime and learning time just stole time away from exploration!

He wanted to learn everything snout-first! By experience!

Hermione yoinked him up by the scruff, groomed him, and tucked him under her wing.

Vigilance yawned toothily and tongue lolled.

Okay, maybe exploration after a good nap.

Mmm, nap.

Zzzzz.


Severus woke to a certain leather-brown pup gnawing on his neck frills. He used his arm to dislodge the interloper from his neck and pin him down.

Brrrrrlwwllw! Vigilance said, clearly unhappy that he was caught, yet again, in his quest to defeat Severus' mane.

The tendrils in Severus' mane did not, as usual, find this amusing, and they promptly hissed and drove him out.

Vigilance tumbled off Severus' mane and sat on his rump, foiled.

Hermione yawned and snagged the pup with her tail, giving him an affectionate lick before passing him a handful of gems to work on, and so he did, his baby teeth making his best effort to grind those gems into tasty mash.

Vigilance loved Hermione's gems. They tasted like fresh fruit rolled in sunlight. Other gems were okay, but hers were the very best! Everyone else seemed to agree, too. Especially Severus.

Even if Severus was really protective of Hermione. It made it hard to wedge in between their wings and play. He kept trying though—

And Severus would promptly pry him off and thump him down somewhere else, or just use his hind leg and kick him off so he rolled off down the hall.

So rude!

Playtime was important!

He doubled his efforts to wrestle Severus' mane and try to get around those feisty protective tentacles!

Suddenly, Vigilance perked up as he heard shuffling and moaning.

Severus and Hermione narrowed their eyes, pushing Vigilance between them protectively.

A tall human with a bush for hair over his head and on his face sauntered by, bemoaning that his friends were dead.

He had no idea what that meant or who was dead, but the man was certainly loud about it.

Ædeweard trotted down the hallway and immediately gained a leathery miscreant on his maned scruff. The elder gargoyle, instinctively practised in the fine art of pup management, secured the pup with his mane tendrils and continued his walk down the hall past the bellowing, wailing, sniffling Hagrid.

Severus muttered something under his breath about elder gargoyle showoffs, but settled for Hermione's happy snuggle sans miniature miscreant.


Mysterious Loss of Magic Strikes Wizarding Britain

Purebloods Affected Most, Entire Family Lines Now Squibs!

An unknown magical draining plague has ripped through the magical community, inflicting many magical families that date back to the Sacred Twenty Eight. In fact, it seems the close one was to the Sacred Twenty Eight, the less magic the person inflicted had left.

Rumours have it that the plague began at Hogwarts, ripping through the student body like a virulent strain of dragon pox and then spreading to the parents with entire family lines being stripped of their magic.

Prominent members of said families are all pointing fingers and blaming each other, but with the disappearance of their magic, many of the anti-squib laws put in place by their very own families immediately negated their rights as magical people, stripping them of the right to carry a wand, access their Gringotts accounts, own magical property, or even live in magical places. The few places that do, which have been traditionally set aside for squibs, are few and far between. Even more troubling, those very same laws also prevent them from accessing their vaults due to their wands being confiscated, giving them very few options to make a fresh start, should they have to.

Most of those afflicted are far too busy fighting for the healers at St Mungos to cure their condition, but so far all the healers that have been able to use magic to even check into it cannot seem to figure out why it happened let alone how to cure it.

Ironically, one of the true kicks while they are down, Muggleborn witches and wizards do not seem to be affected by this plague, leaving the rest of Wizarding Britain to ask, "Why?"

As for those in prominent pureblood families who have been demanding to be treated solely by healers who are "pure," they are quickly finding out that there is no one who can help them.


Minerva found she couldn't even exit her own rooms—

Her magic was failing her. Her wards—didn't seem to recognise her. Her Floo didn't recognise her. Her wand—didn't recognise her.

She could still cast simple wandless spells, but the more complicated ones such as lowering wards so she could exit the room or activate her Floo simply failed.

A Patronus? No.

No owl would even enter her room, nor did it deliver her mail.

No house-elf heard her call.

She was trapped, and she realised with a sinking sensation that she had the "plague."

The most she could do was bank her fire in her hearth and make herself some tea. She did have some of her magic, unlike those she heard of that had none, and for a while, she had thought Hogwarts had dodged a bullet when it came to being pulled down by Potter's curse—but apparently it had just taken longer.

It had definitely hit the pureblood families the hardest.

They had started to send the afflicted students back home only to find that their parents were unable to do so. They, too, were drained of magic.

Harry Potter had become the ultimate doom of the Wizarding World—

Somehow, he had brought ruin to every magical line that was tied to the Blacks—and it was notoriously known that purebloods were all related in an effort to keep the purity in.

She wondered what other people in her situation would do. If she could find a way to escape her rooms, she could at least function in the Muggle world. She was a half-blood and knew how to get by in a world without magic, even if she had preferred not to once she'd become a teacher.

An odd noise caught her attention, and she turned to find two gargoyles (that were considerably larger now) tussling with a leathery "skinned" pup that really, really wanted to eat her velvet curtains. The black gargoyle kept trying to entice the pup away with the offer of a gem, but the pup really, really wanted her curtain cords instead. His shark-like gemmy teeth shredded the fabric with abandon, and the pup seemed to be really excited by the prospect of bringing her curtains down.

With a groaning creak, the curtain bar gave way, and the entire drapery fell down with a CLUNK and buried the pup.

The pup squeaked in total indignation, his pudgy little body pinned and wrapped up in a rather confining velvet burrito swaddle.

The two bigger gargoyles seemed to scowl at the smaller one at the same time, their body language radiating an unmistakable message of clear disapproval.

The leathery pup whined, his pudgy body wriggling with mischief denied.

The black gargoyle brought one talon-paw down and thumped the pup upside the head, pressing him down into the fabric, and shaking his head in an exasperated manner that seemed so terribly familiar to her.

Minerva snorted despite it all. The scene was so typical of one of her classes where one student tried to get away with something really, really stupid and the more experienced students glared holes into them when things inevitably went pear-shaped.

The sienna gargoyle perked in her direction, her ears swivelling as her tail raised up with a slight curl to it. The colours of her skin seemed to ripple as if deciding what colour to be. She took a stop toward Minerva.

The black gargoyle took his attention off the leathery pup and tried to block the sienna gargoyle from approaching Minerva. The sienna gargoyle nudged him with her muzzle and licked his jaw and took another step forward to Minerva.

The black gargoyle seemed super suspicious, and he glowered at Minerva in a way that was so familiar—achingly familiar.

Every few steps, he checked the female's body with his, his muzzle pressing against her neck frills. The female licked the bottom of his jaw each time as if to reassure him, and stepped closer, but the closer she got to Minerva, the more dour the black gargoyle seemed to get.

Minerva went very still. She had last seen them as much smaller pups, and now they were huge—but still clearly wary of her. She couldn't blame them, really. Hogwarts staff hadn't exactly treated gargoyles well historically. The one that guarded the headmaster's office was the most prominent one, and yet they had never once considered that it had feelings or considerations like a living being.

They'd treated it like a mere construct—an enchanted "thing," and perhaps that was the greatest offence. They had not realised the gargoyles were truly alive.

The female gargoyle was close enough to sniff her, her soft breaths rustling Minerva's hair.

Minerva's hand slowly went to touch the gargoyle's smooth, gem-encrusted skin, the shimmer of magic swirling from the gems and making a musical, resonant chime much like the ringing of a singing bowl.

Her eyes went wide as that purity of magic brought tears to her eyes.

Like her very first bought of accidental magic as a child.

Like seeing Hogwarts the very first time.

Like picking up the want that was truly hers.

Like the exhilaration of having successfully transformed as an Animagus.

Like her very first kiss with the boy she had truly loved.

This was magic as it truly was—a living thing that breathed in every rock, tree, bird, fish—human, animal, beast—being.

"I understand now," Minerva whispered. "We do not control magic. Magic shapes us into who we are."

She put her arms around the sienna gargoyle's mane and pressed her head to the beast's shimmering hide and let herself go into magic's embrace.


Ædeweard and Edolie groomed each other tenderly as they looked out over the Hogwarts ramparts, the setting sun casting the castle in a spectacular show of light. The leathery pup curled up with the newest addition to the clan: a silver and purple cat-like gargoyle pup whose fine stripes resembled a Scottish thistle. Vigilance wrapped his tail with hers, his little wings hooked with hers as he protectively set his head over her neck.

"The clan is looking to have a bright, strong future, my love," Ædeweard said as he chewed lovingly on his mate's frills.

His mate purrrumbled in approval of both his affection and the state of the clan. Her watchful eyes caught sight of Severus offering Hermione a raw painite. Hermione took the raw ruby-coloured gem cluster in her mouth and made short work of it, turning it into a shower of finely faceted gemstones that Severus took most of and stored in his pouch. The pair then shared the remaining gems between them, using their tails to place a few in front of the sleeping pups so they wouldn't be interrupted in their own snuggle.

"It is indeed," Edolie said with approval, her tail warmly curling around her mate's. "As it should be."


Ministry Rolls Out Plan To Assist Magic-Drained Plague Victims, Prepare Them To Join Muggle Society


Long-Lost Hidden "Impure" Bastard Children Of Pureblood Families Inherit Fortunes


Azkaban Filled With Drained, Mummified Dead

"Scene Out Of Nightmares!" Says Horrified Prison Guard


Former Minister Cornelius Fudge and Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge Discovered Trapped In Offices, Dead

Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt Appointed Acting Minister For Magic


Muggleborn Aurors Make Welfare Checks To Rescue Plague Victims Trapped in Magically Sealed, Locked, and Warded Homes


Families Forced To Assimilate Into Muggle World Break Statute of Secrecy All Across Britain, Violators Subsequently Obliviated


"Severus?"

"Hrm?"

"Do you feel like things are now how they should be?"

"What brought this on?" Severus itched one ear with his foot.

"It just feels—so very comfortable here," she said. "Not like before when it was just when we were together—or when the clan was together."

Severus tilted his head in thought. "I suppose so. It does feel—lighter. Much less oppressive."

He groomed her ears then gripped her neck scruff and chewed to calm her thoughts down. For some reason, it had always worked, so every time he caught her thinking too hard, he'd do it to get her to hold up and take a deep breath.

Hermione relaxed into him and purred. "How do you do that?"

"Hrm?"

"Get me to stop thinking too much."

"Practice, I suppose," he said, his tail looping with amusement.

She rumbled and snuggled into him. "I couldn't imagine my life without you," she confessed quietly.

Severus nuzzled her. "Nor I, you."

They were suddenly dropped on from above by Vigilance and Thistle, their mouths having successfully helped the willow break through their hardened catkins.

Severus sighed as Hermione tucked the young pups against her body and under her wing instinctively. He lay his head across Hermione's back and watched over her as she watched over their small charges.


Severus growled lowly, and his ominous rumbling woke Hermione.

"What is it?"

"Something is wrong."

"Wrong? What kind of wrong?"

"I'm not really sure," Severus admitted. "But I can feel it in my liver."

Hermione shook herself awake, going from sleepiness to full alertness as only a gargoyle could. Her ears perked, swivelling in various directions with the intent to pinpoint and identify what Severus was already sensing. She didn't doubt him. He'd always had a keen sense of impending danger that went far beyond what she could perceive herself unless she really tried. She pressed herself close against him, her mane tendrils weaving with his, and her ears seemed to tune in better, using his sense of the unknown danger to hone in her own senses.

Severus, too, jolted with surprise as his senses grew more precise in combination with hers, and within a few seconds they homed in what his senses had been warning him of.

"What are you sensing?" Ædeweard and Edolie had suddenly appeared in the gloom like a pair of ghosts. Edolie's crimson colour shifted into a darker garnet hue, making her blend into the gloom even more than usual.

Oswin appeared too, his blue hide blending into the dark haze as grey rather than its brighter, deeper sapphire. Fleta nuzzled him as she stretched her wings, the pink and grey speckles shimmering like spinning fog. Bede rose his head in the gloom, his swirling malachite patterns took on a pulsing magic as he attempted to sense what Severus and Hermione had detected together, even as Gytha padded out from the darker gloom to join them. Tyne, too padded out of the haze, drawn by the powerful rallying instinct to the danger even one of them sensed.

He flared out his leonine mane, his aquamarine body turning lighter to match the lack of light.

All of them linked up together, pressing their bodies closer as their mane tendrils wove together, and their senses united.

Edolie tucked Thistle and Vigilance in her mouth as they all tensed and vanished together completely.


"Headmaster!"Filius protested. "What are we going to do to defend our students? The magic is in tatters—We cannot hope to face a mass attack! They do not have enough help to even send thanks to the entanglements of pureblood laws! With Minerva missing—"

Albus stroked his beard. "Do you know we were spared, Filius?"

"What?"

"The plague, old friend, do you know why we were spared?"

"I presume it's because we aren't that closely related to the pureblood lines! Like all the protests—like what's coming here to Hogwarts with the intent of taking out who they think is responsible for this plague!"

"I don't think it's quite that simple," Albus said with a weary sigh. "I think it's about so many losing faith in magic—drifting so very far from our roots that we forgot how we got here to begin with. It's easy to blame it all on the pureblood mindset, which, of course, didn't help, but I think in the case of Minerva it was about having lost faith or trust in the heart of magic. Forgetting our bond to it along with the understanding that our magic was a gift. The youngest of the students here—they retained their magic, their wonder of magic's gift, regardless of their bloodlines. The older suffered more because with our teaching them to control their magic, many lost any respect for its origins. You've always had a deep respect for magic, Filius, but you're also more sensitive to its gift due to your unique heritage. Muggleborns tend never to lose the wonder of magic because they know exactly what it's like to be without it. It is not really a plague, Filius. It is a systemic loss of connection to the balance of magic—some of us cannot help but remember but many others lose their faith or their respect for the gift we were given. And as more and more people panicked and lost faith, more and more lost their connection to magic itself. We're not fighting against a plague, Filius. We're fighting against a loss of faith."

"But Albus,"Filius protested. "How is that going to save Hogwarts from attack? Shouldn't you activate the stone guardians?"

Albus tilted his head as a sombre calm settled on his shoulders. "I choose to have faith in magic and the guardians we already have."

"But, Albus, what other guardians do we even have other than staff, and we're struggling to keep the children safe as it is!"

Albus's lips tugged into a grim smile. "The ones we've always had." He waved his wand, the great guardian wards of Hogwarts altered, and a great shudder seemed to go throughout the castle, and the baying cries of multiple gargoyles sounded off from around the entire school.

The storm blew through the spires of the school with a high, whistling keen as vivid bolts of lightning flashed—

And countless glowing eyes flashed in the darkness as a multitude of beastly forms appeared all over Hogwarts like the arrival of a sandstorm.


As the large group of angry families barged through the barriers outside of Hogwarts, they found the grounds oddly silent as the grave. While their combined magic had been enough to overcome the gates, the felling of the gates seemed to make them cockier and more sure of themselves.

"Even Hogwarts cannot stand against us united!" one of the wizards cried. "We know they are harbouring that bloody Harry Potter here! We know that any who support him are the enemy! Stealers of magic! Ruiners of lives! We will take them all down! These betrayers! These affronts to all things magical! Before he drains even more of us! Before he steals every drop of magic in Britain!"

"DOWN WITH HARRY POTTER!" the angry mob chanted.

"DEATH TO THE BOY-WHO-SHOULDN'T-HAVE-LIVED!"

They rushed the school as the gate clicked shut behind them, and a multitude of glowing eyes lit up in the dark as the shadowy forms of gargoyles gathered to lay in wait for the incoming prey, their muzzles twisted in gem-fanged anticipation.

The quiet hallways made it seem as if the entire school had been abandoned.

They had expected to induce screaming and chaos. They had expected the teaching staff to come out and sacrifice themselves for the children—all supporters who had hidden away that accursed brat, Harry Potter. The boy who royally fucked up Wizarding Britain. The boy who brought down countless generations of pureblood magical might. The boy who stole magic away from them all—

They would take back their magic from the bloody boy himself—

They would shatter the curse he had unleashed upon their families, their future!

And if he wouldn't do it—

Well, there were certain other quite effective ways to end a curse.

They knocked over any objects in their path, tore down and set fire to portraits, knocked over sets of armour, broke into display cases, and sprayed crude graffiti over a number of artefacts dating back to the Founders of Hogwarts with a combination of Muggle paint and what little magic they had left. They sabotaged the Floos using other artefacts to smash into the stone pillars that housed the fires that allowed students to travel to the entrance to prevent them from escaping their wrath.

The leader of the group was quite familiar with Hogwarts, and they stormed off toward the Gryffindor tower, knowing that was where that stupid boy was most likely hiding—

It didn't matter that the rumours claimed he had gone into self-exile.

It didn't matter that they said both he and Sirius Black had left the Wizarding World behind.

Impossible!

No one who had managed to drain THAT much magic from the British Wizarding world would just up and LEAVE!

No, Hogwarts was harbouring a known magic thief. A home wrecker. A family destroyer. A magical syphon.

And that little bastard had let them have just enough magic to still see Hogwarts and the magical world but not enough to partake of it for more than a dim Lumos or stinging hex for most of them. Others, however, had kept a bit more, and together—they were going to mess up Potter's life just like he had messed up theirs!

Some, like him, had been too small and insignificant for the Dark Lord, but now, he had magic, and he was leading—

Who was the weakling now, eh?

When he took all the magic that Potter stole, he would keep every bit of it for himself and remake magical Britain!

But when he found himself at the moving staircases, his raging mob had quieted down so much that he turned to see what they were on about.

Multiple bodies lay sprawled along the hallways.

One of his people was jumping around as a leathery beast was attacking his ankle. The beast was pulling him over to the side where—a small, purple and silvery cat-like beast shoved a planter over onto one of his people's heads, taking them out even as he stared in shock.

The beast's eyes glowed balefully, and it looked like it was going to approach, but the brown leathery beast came through a whorl of magic and pulled the other into "nothingness."

The hallway was empty but for the bodies of the nullified group of his previously large mob.

Then, one by one, glowing pairs of eyes appeared over each body. Each eye glittered like the finest faceted gemstones with a deep inner glow. Jaws parted to expose pointed crystalline fangs, each shaped like the points of a terminated crystal—sparkling like diamonds in the moonlight. Even as he looked on in horror, more and more eyes joined the scene—and more and more odd-looking bodies materialised to go along with them.

Beasts of so many different shapes and sizes. Some on all fours. Some were caught between quadruped and biped—some winged, some covered in skin like the drusy innards of a geode, some with a smooth skin patchwork made of glistening polished stone. Horns made of metal and stone and gems shimmered in the flickering torch light of the hall. Low, deep growls that sounded eerily like the Earth moving caused his ears to ache.

He ran up the stairs, leaping as the stairs moved. He was not going to get waylaid by beasts!

As he scurried up the stairs, he saw a group of kids aiming their wands at him.

Their wands wavered, their experience obviously not as great as their temporary bravado.

His lips turned up with pleasure. Hostages would be just fine.

Annoying little brats!

He pointed his wand at them as they cast spells at him, deflecting all their pathetic attempts as spells.

Weak.

Trying to stop him with Langlock? With a tickling hex? Please. What idiots!

Stupid, brave, soon-to-be-in-a-lot-of-pain idiots.

"CRUCIO!" he snarled out the spell, the green beam aimed at the whole group of them.

And he meant it.

Oh, did he mean it!

But the spell hit—something?

A shape shimmered as it materialised with colours dancing like the shimmering adularescence of moonstone and labradorite. His spell's sickly green beam sank deep into the flesh of the beast, splitting into beams of refractive fire as it lit up their body with a virtual rainbow of magical light.

Patches of the "skin" seemed to retain the light, glowing with an eerie phosphorescence. Bright orange, purples, green, white, and red glows shifted across the skin like the dance of a cuttlefish's camouflage. When the colours faded, two beasts took their places in front of the children.

One seemingly the colour of onyx.

One was the colour of gold and grey-blue pietersite. Its body seemed like a swirl of a tiger eye mixed with that sense of "other" that dipped one side in metallic and one side into an almost blue. Its eyes, unlike the black one whose eyes were equally black, glittered like faceted topaz. While his eyes tried to make sense of the colours, a part of his brain tried to say brown or wood or perhaps ocher or sienna, but as magic played about the beast's body, it was obviously so much more than that.

Even the onyx coloured beast— colours danced in the blackness like rainbows caught in obsidian.

Too angry to care what he was seeing, even if his brain was telling him something was seriously off. Something was incredibly dangerous. Something was more than he could possibly handle—

He cast another spell at them.

It hit them straight to the face.

And they seemed to change.

Another spell!

They grew.

Another spell!

They stood more upright.

Another spell!

They looked like both a beast and a humanoid.

ANOTHER!

They towered over him, wings spread in a fan of unmistakable threat as their fangs glistened. Their tails, sinuous like a serpent, moved the children further back.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" he roared, sending a blinding green light toward them all with lethal, hateful, desperate intent.

A taloned hand wrapped around his head and lifted him clear off the ground as he was slammed against the stone wall, sliding his body across the portraits to send them clattering to the floor in a heap.

As he smashed against the wall, his eyes widened as he saw a scowling almost-human face if it weren't for the bestial fangs and gemstone-crystal horns poking out from their mane of black, black hair. His lips pulled back from his teeth—fangs like yellow garnet exposed in clear disdain. "You are not welcome here, human," the creature snarled. "But your magic is more than welcome to remain."

A she-devil beast entered his field of vision. A mane of sienna curls framing a face seemingly almost-human save for the fact it looked more like the play of light over shades of brown and gold gemstone. She sniffed the air as if scenting food. Her face was so very close to his, even as he peered out from between the other beast's talons.

"Harry Potter does not speak for magic," she growled, her eyes casting across his face and body. She placed her talons on his chest, her diamond-like claws digging into his robes and into his skin. "But we do."

There was the combined roar of multiple gargoyles throughout the castle—one gargoyle for every attacker, sometimes more than one. All of them sounded off with a reverberating cacophony that seemed to date from prehistory when giants walked the Earth in the form of reptiles.

Magic flowed from each of the attackers—every bit that was left—and was absorbed into the guardians of Hogwarts as the gargoyles took their rightful place as the chosen protectors of magic itself.


Muggle Newspaper:

Deranged Mob Found Wandering Ruins in Scotland—Had To Be Rescued Via Airlift Due to Unsafe Location

A strange gathering of people who authorities believe all partook of some sort of unknown psychoactive street drug were found shivering and disoriented on a treacherous Scottish cliff. The victims, who had to be airlifted out via helicopter, are all suffering from similar delusions and hallucinations. They all claim that they are magical witches and wizards and that they will take their place as the rulers of all Britain.

The local pagan covens, however, do not recognise them. "We're all witches," Winifred Portendorfer said. "But I haven't seen any of these people before. Our community tends to be pretty close. Also, males are witches too. We don't call them warlocks, wizards, or whatever. Whoever these people are, the lot of them are as barmy as a (expletive) March hare."

These victims of communal drug use or folie à deux are currently being held under guard in Bethem Royal Hospital until they can be identified, stabilised, and treated appropriately. Even so, the persons in question will remain in hospital until their physicians deem them to be no longer a danger to society after they attempted to crash the rescue helicopter and subsequently threatened the hospital staff with their strangely carved sticks.


Memo:

From: Amelia Bones, Head Boss of You

To: All Agents, Unspeakables

I don't know what in Merlin's pants is going on around here that allowed those idiots to get picked up by Muggles before we could Obliviate them, but I want them appropriately Obliviated as of yesterday. I want their Muggle associates Obliviated. I want everyone attached to the treatment and care of the idiots who stormed Hogwarts searching for Harry Bloody Potter so Obliviated that they think they're bloody swans from Swan Lake.

Do not remove them from Bedlam. We'll let them stay in the Muggle care system as the sodding idiots they are. Since they have no magic at all now, it's probably better that they learn the hard way how to live as Muggles. At least after they're Obliviated, they won't have to remember that magic was even real.

Unbelievable!

Also, side note: Harry Potter and Sirius Black have recently opened a sweets and ice cream shop in Brighton, and I hear they are adjusting well. I want agents checking on them every week for the next year to make sure nothing excessively stupid happens on top of what has already happened. Do remember how to wear modern Muggle clothing, please, or get someone knowledgeable to assist you with making appropriate choices. We don't need another repeat of Manchester, people.


Time Passes…


The seasons went by, and a blanket of calm settled over Hogwarts unlike anything any previous generation had seen, perhaps not since the Founders had first built Hogwarts—back when magic was far more appreciated for the gift that it was.

The students who came to live and grow at Hogwarts had a new respect for the magic and what they were learning, and in doing so, they found more respect for each other.

While some of the students found themselves still struggling to make do with a lesser command of their magic, in coming to respect the magic they had, many would find a small, smooth gemstone by their bedside table when they awoke in the morning. The fascinating stone would shimmer with magic, and in a compulsion they could not remember let alone understand, they would swallow it.

Over the course of their time at Hogwarts, their magic would mature and grow anew. By the time they graduated, it would be as if magic had never left them.

It was, perhaps, this newfound respect for the lack of magic as well as the presence of it that gave Mr Filch a new lease on life. Respect rained down upon him, and his days were often filled with pleasure as the students now talked to him—not to degrade him or otherwise mock him, but to ask him how he was doing and offer their help if he ever needed it.

Even disgruntled Mrs Norris found herself slowly warming up to the students when they began providing her with handmade silvervine and catnip mice—the doorway to acceptance by even a standoffish feline like Mrs Norris.

Hogwarts gained a few new professors, but none were quite as memorable as Professor Arthur Weasley, their Muggle Studies teacher. The rumour was that he never failed to send a sizable chunk of his earnings to the Muggle world for his magic-drained wife and children. In time they had saved enough to purchase a small restaurant and bakery with a flat above where they all lived and worked together.

He would enthuse about how there were wonderful Muggle machines that washed dishes every bit as well as magic did. How his wife was now addicted to moving pictures on a screen that unlike the newspaper photographs broadcast for longer. Some were even broadcast live!

Most of his students found such talk pretty hard to believe, but they were more willing to try thanks to the very real almost-loss of all magic to Britain. When Flitwick enchanted a Muggle telly to run on magic and presented it to Arthur for his classroom, the students were quickly won over and now frequently hung out there after hours to watch footy games and movies.

The few pureblood students who had survived the "reckoning" as it had come to be known, turned over a new leaf with their respect for magic, and as their skills and respect grew, so, too, did their magic once more. Those who graduated took their places as the new heads of their families, changing the notion of what it meant to be pureblood back to the way it had started out rather than how it had become in recent history.

Those like Draco Malfoy—the boy who started out as a spoiled and arrogant sod, had descended into fear and uncertainty, and over time they began to respect magic's blessings and ultimately its price as well. It was said that the loss of his parents had forced him to learn how to think for himself and reevaluate so many things.

Some of his old friends, however, never seemed willing or able to grasp the harsh lesson he had learned. Their bitter, anger-filled lives left them with only that tiny flicker of magic—just enough to feel what they had lost but they were no longer able to cast anything more than the most basic of spells at a very weak level.

For those who chose to remain at Hogwarts for whatever reason—be they student, staff, or guest—should they consistently demonstrate that great respect for magic, they, too, would find a small smooth gemstone by their bedside in the morning. They, too, would be compelled to swallow it—and magic would begin to grow within them.

Slow and steady.

For as slow as true respect could grow within one's heart and soul, so kindled the flame of magic inside them.

Hogwarts became known as a place of second chances and a place to see the infamous gargoyles—the creatures that had defended Hogwarts in its greatest moment of need from murderers and Dark folk with even darker intentions.

Now, milling about the castle, gargoyles would appear far more frequently, their young pups playing and frolicking in the hallways, often chasing or being chased by familiars, playing tag with the post owls, and assisting lost children who found Hogwarts to be a maze of confusion even on a good day. For magic was practically brimming over at Hogwarts, and that had made the school rather—plucky.

Sometimes rooms would move around. Sometimes rooms would change on their own. Sometimes someone would go in one door and show up somewhere else on the other side of the castle.

Yet—

No one complained.

Hogwarts was magical, and living there had become a priceless gift. Magic was a nebulous mystery once again, tamed but only for a moment but fathomless in all other ways.

The school ran so well that Albus Dumbledore retired to Brighton, to join Harry Potter and Sirius Black at the Black Dog Sweets Shoppe and Ice Cream Parlour, where their famous black liquorice dogs and lemon sherbet ice cream were known far and wide.

Filius Flitwick took the helm of Hogwarts, often seen talking to a certain purple and silver gargoyle female and her leather-skinned companion—who never left each other's side save to chase or be chased throughout the castle

Would-be troublemakers found all efforts were stymied by the gargoyles, whose ever watchful eyes kept such things from being fruitful. While truly harmless magical pranks were tolerated to some extent, those of a more malicious nature tended to end up with the pranksters sporting bitten rumps and swollen ankles and ending up in the infirmary with Poppy Pomfrey puckering her lips at them.

Pomona Sprout found great joy in receiving help from gargoyles of all shapes and sizes in her beloved greenhouses. They could be found playing sometimes, helping most times by biting back the temperamental foliage, and nipping the rumps of students who were caught not paying attention during the Mandrake lessons. The gargoyles also kept the Venomous Tentaculas from accosting unwary students, and everyone was much happier for that.

And while Sybill might have completely disagreed with it, all of her sherry bottles swiftly disappeared as the ever-helpful gargoyle pups took to snatching them and hiding them in different places until one day, Sybill found herself completely and utterly sober.

There was much rejoicing over that.

Teachers at Hogwarts settled into a life of respect both to themselves and the wider world around them, and the very walls of Hogwarts seemed to hum in appreciation.

And one day, Argus Filch found a small shiny opal on his bedside table—and swallowed it.


Ædeweard yawned toothily and groomed his mate with lazy contentment. "Wake up, love. It's hatching day in the rookery."

Edolie blinked sleepily. "It feels like a dream—hatching day. Gargoyles from all over the world coming here to join our clan and protect Hogwarts. Pups underfoot. Generations of gargoyles living together with humans."

"Fleta has her own egg waiting on the sands," Ædeweard said in anticipation. "I never thought I'd see the day when she opened her heart to another."

"Enkai is such a gracious, thoughtful gargoyle," Edolie said appreciatively. "All the way from Japan. Oh, and his beautiful teal apatite coat—he looks like the ocean with golden sparkles and shimmering sunlight."

"You're trying to make me jealous," Ædeweard muttered.

Edolie snorted. "I can still admire another's gemstone hide. We all do. I know you gaze at Isabeau's beautiful amethyst body."

Ædeweard chuckled. "You win, love. But we're going to have a lot of hatchlings this year. So many new mated pairs. I'm glad I lived to see this instead of withering away mindlessly guarding the headmaster's office.

Suddenly a simbircite-coloured pup with a mane of glistening rainbow obsidian and honey brown gemmed body pounced on them both. "Morning, Grandpa! Grandma!"

"Good morning, miscreant," they said together.

The pup grinned from ear to ear, gem fangs flashing. "It's hatching day! Do you think I'll get a new brother or sister? Both? Maybe two will come out of the same egg!"

"Don't put your tail before your body, young Jasper," Ædeweard admonished. "Aren't you enough of a handful for your poor weary parents?"

The gargoyle pup squeaked in pleasure as his grandparents tickled him with their tails. "Auntie Thistle and Uncle Vigilance say that Bogdan and Croía are going to have triplets. How can three pups fit in just one egg?"

Ædeweard thumped Jasper over the head with one paw. "Very carefully. Come on now, eat your breakfast and then we'll go." He coughed up a finely faceted aquamarine and chevron amethyst.

"You're the best, grandpa!" Jasper exclaimed and promptly pounced on his breakfast.


Severus and Hermione snuggled together as they watched the gathered clan awaiting the newest generation of gargoyles. They found themselves surrounded in gemstone hides of all colours, shapes, and sizes. Gargoyles had travelled from far and wide to come to Hogwarts—from the pewter grey and glowing orange flecked Sumner to milky white topaz Mairwen.

Nothing, however, brought gargoyles together as effectively as Hatching Day.

Everyone was excited to see the next generation of gargoyle pups breaking out of their gemstone shells, often betting on what their hide would look like as the colouring of the egg rarely matched that of the pup inside. It was said those born of the same colour as their egg had a fate already written, but most of the gargoyles didn't put much stock in that rubbish. Their fates were already written together—to protect their home from all comers, and that included the staff and the children who lived in Hogwarts as well as the gargoyles themselves.

Severus groomed his mate's curly frilled neck, enjoying her happy purrs of contentment as he tended her. It never got old, and she never failed to give him the best snuggle afterwards—even if she made him chase her all over the castle first—bloody slippery female gargoyles.

They, like most of their fellow gargoyles, tended to stay in quadruped form, but they could and did occasionally take a bipedal form when the situation required the use of hands.

Ædeweard always seemed pleased that they had both achieved that ability, but Severus didn't really care as long as he could lie with his mate and enjoy the thrum of magic running through their home and themselves.

Madam Pince had even set out a collection of gargoyle-friendly bookstands with enchantments on it to aid them in reading books, and that made it a lot easier for the majority of the gargoyles to keep up with the latest news to learning of new discoveries in the human world.

Hermione perked as the first egg began to rock crazily on its axis. Whoever was inside sure was excited!

The gargoyles all hummed together in encouragement, and the egg burst into shards as the new pup arrived amidst a rainbow shower of gemstones.

The little pup shook himself off, his olive-hued hide speckled with maroon spots.

Bogdan and Croía lowered their heads and groomed the pup over, checking for leg quantity or whatever other appendages might come included in the package. "Rían," Bogdan announced.

All of the gargoyles hummed in approval as the little pup wobbled and then eagerly went to every gathered adult and pup to make introductions, even buttering up a few adults for their first, second, and third breakfast.

Hatchlings were, Severus remembered, absolutely ravenous.

A large egg rocked back and forth somewhat drunkenly, and Hermione tilted her head curiously as it seemed to want to go three directions at once. It rocked so hard it toppled the other eggs over, smashing into them before bursting open in a shower of aventurine chips.

A blue labradorite pup squeaked from under her red carnelian brother, and their turquoise sister piled on top with a startled meep. The egg nearest them burst into a shower of sunstone shards as a small rhodochrosite female came out of the egg in a rush and chomped the turquoise pup square on the rump as if to thank them for smashing into their egg moments before. Meanwhile, a peridot egg split open in almost perfect halves as a citrine pup let out a huge, gem-toothed yawn.

But all the hatching seemed to fall to the wayside as the egg near them rocked back and forth steadily. Hermione and Severus perked together, humming encouragement. The egg's blue paua shell outside split like a lightning fork, and a larimar pup sat in the middle of the broken shell looking rather baffled at the change in scenery.

Hermione and Severus nuzzled and groomed the pup over, humming and crooning encouragement. Severus passed a hunk of moonstone over to his mate. She took it into her mouth and chewed, masterfully shaping and imbuing them with magic before showering their new pup with food.

The happy pup gladly took the moonstones in his mouth and did what generations of gargoyle pups did when faced with a pile of tasty gemstones. He crunched the stones enthusiastically.

It was only then that Hermione and Severus saw the stirring of movement under the cast off half-shell of their hatched offspring and then noticed the small watermelon tourmaline snout sniffing the air. A tiny tongue slithered around the nearest moonstone as crunching noises followed.

Startled, both gargoyles nudged the shell off their surprise twin offspring, nuzzled, groomed, and took inventory of limbs.

The little tourmaline pup squeaked as their noses tickled her.

"Alan," Severus said to the larimar pup.

"Bryn,"Hermione said to the tourmaline pup.

The humming in the rookery climaxed as the last pup was named and all of them tumbled together in introductory play even as the adults sniffed over and nuzzled the new additions together.

The future was very bright indeed for the gargoyle clan of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, whose original fate of lonely and forgotten isolation had changed with the impulsive casting of a Spell of Unmaking on a hated enemy only for an innocent young witch to be caught in its grasp. Her acceptance of magic's judgement and the engulfment of her then-teacher had paved the way for not only their rebirth but the gargoyles' triumphant return to Hogwarts.

In it, a lonely young witch and an equally tortured, lonely, and bitter man grew up together in their second chance at life—destined to become lifemates and the guardians of their home.

What magick had torn asunder, it did put back together again.

And in the many years that followed, countless generations of pups would sit and beg for stories of Severus and Hermione—the two gargoyle pups who changed the fate for all of the Hogwarts gargoyles and the magic that embraced them.


And they lived gemtastically ever after!


A/N: Hey look… another story finished. WHUT?!

Also please thank Dragon and the Rose for staying up past her expiry pumpkin hour to beta this chapter before dropping face first into her pillow at Mach 8.

Hope you enjoyed the ride, folks!

Oh, btw, the October thingy is going on next month, so I may be doing a few small things for that instead of my normal stories. We'll see how this goes, as you all know how I feel about SHORT stories…

Also, RIP Michael Gambon, for while I may not have a great love of Dumbledore (who isn't as much of a dick in this one, miraculously) he helped bring a lot of people into the Harry Potter fandom and perhaps got them to pick up the books for the very first time. That kind of positive influence overshadows the fact that my personal opinion of the character he played is still pretty horrible. LOL. May he rest in peace. Wands up.