Summary: SSHG, AU, They should have known it was not going to end well.
Beta Love: Dragon and the Erratic Sleep Schedule, Dutchgirl01 the Wild Parakeet Wrangler, Flyby Commander Shepard Whose Controller is a Winged Pika That Flew Off With His Dinner
A/N: I'm sleep-deprived and sleep full simultaneously. This will not end well for anyone.
Warning: Violence, gore, horrific scenes of instant karma.
Accidental Disaster
I don't believe in accidents. There are only encounters in history. There are no accidents.
Pablo Picasso
The smoke and fumes billowing from the potions classroom were thick and acrid as students frantically scrambled to escape. Most of them were covered in a thick layer of soot or slime—or both.
Albus frowned as he sent them up to the infirmary one by one after checking for signs of obvious injury. As he stepped into the laboratory, he found it was in shambles. The room itself was in shambles. The shelves were blown to bits, all the potion ingredients were mixed together from the shattered bottles, and the cauldrons that the students had been using were all blown to smithereens.
There was a massive crater where "ground zero" had been, where a great hunk of red hair was goo-glued to the wall nearby along with the distinctive blackened char that screamed "Seamus Finnegan" louder than anything else.
Albus frowned, a headache forming in his brain as he rubbed his temples. He vanished the mess with a quick wave of his wand. Where was Sev—
What was he—
Albus frowned.
He really needed to get a real potions teacher. No one seemed to want the job, and he definitely was tired of trying to teach it himself.
How many students were in the room?
His face wrinkled as his brain hurt.
No, they had all gotten out.
Right?
Albus closed the classroom door and walked to the infirmary. Maybe Poppy could look him over too.
KABLOOOOOMMMM!
A gigantic explosion ripped through the potions classroom yet again from Longbottom's side of the classroom where he and Miss Prewett were sitting.
Slughorn sighed. Miss Prewett wasn't anything like her cousin Molly Prewett, and normally that was a good thing, but her sticking by Frank was just a disaster waiting to happen. Longbottom was utter pants at potions, and Alice was—talented enough for the basics but distressingly complacent about letting Frank blow himself up (or the class.)
Longbottom was dangling precariously from the ceiling rafters, and his potions partner was splattered and stuck to the far wall with goo. The entire class was screaming as they poured out of the classroom to avoid the expanding eruption of fluorescent green goo that was spewing out of Longbottom's cauldron.
Only—
There was something moving around in the goo.
No, the goo was moving.
Suddenly, the goo seemed to get sucked into nothingness or get absorbed by something, and the form of a young witch lay curled in a foetal ball on the floor.
Some of the remaining students either screamed or heckled, and Miss Evans took that moment to make a remark, "Who's the ugly girl?"
It was then and only then that a giant fel-beast rose up from the floor where the goo had been, its body slick with glowing magical slime as sharp teeth were exposed. A deep growl came from the beast that seemed neither feline, canine, lupine, ursine, vulpine, or well anything he could put his finger on, and yet, it had the features of all. It stood over the naked young witch with its hackles raised in a mane of writhing tentacles.
"Easy now, easy," Mr Snape said as he placated the beast with his hands.
"Sev, what the hell are you doing?" Lily screeched, and the beast immediately snarled at her.
"Easy, just—" Severus took off his cloak and held it out. "I just want to cover up your mistress, okay?"
The fel-beast growled lowly, not moving, but not showing his teeth as much.
Severus very slowly moved over and gently placed his cloak over the girl to cover up her nakedness, and the moment his hand touched the girl's arm, a blast of heated magic surged and filled the room.
"Sev!" Lily hissed, tugging on his arm. "Let's get out of here!"
Snape turned his head to stare at her, perhaps for the first time not cowing to her demands. "She's going to wake up in a strange place, naked, and afraid. I know what that's like. Do you?"
Lily gawped at him, looking at him like a tree just grew a face and started to talk. "T-that was just a prank, Severus," she stammered. "Everyone said so!"
"Well, when you wake up in an unknown place in your starkers with no idea how you got there or how you'll get away, you let me know how that prank feels when 'everyone' says it's nothing," Severus bit out.
The girl stirred under his robes and opened her eyes, and her eyes widened in fear.
"It's okay. The idiots who blew up the classroom left," Severus said softly. "Are you alright? Are you in any pain?"
The girl pulled the cloak around her rightly but nodded that she was uninjured.
"Sev!" Lily hissed.
The girl's head jerked up to stare at Lily, and the fel-hound immediately snarled, causing Evans to stumble backwards in fright. Her hand, seeming so small compared to the beast, was pressed against the creature's black hide where greenish-blue flames flickered across its skin. Strangely, the girl snuggled into the beast's leg, and the flames did not burn her.
Yet, Slughorn could feel its heat—even the desks around them were starting to smoulder. It startled him enough to break his silence.
"Erm, Miss—if you could please go to the infirmary, er, do you know where the infirmary is?"
The girl looked at him as if for the first time, her brow furrowing, but she nodded.
"We can take her," Snape said, giving the girl a concerned nod.
"She said she knows where it is, Sev!" Lily insisted. "Let her go by herself! We don't even know her!"
Snape shot her a glance. "I," he said. "Will take her."
The unknown girl shot Snape a look of silent gratitude.
"Very good, Mr Snape; ten points to Slytherin for reaching out to help someone in need despite these rather odd circumstances. I will clean up here and report to the headmaster."
"Sev, we need to go to study!" Lily exclaimed. "We're already late because of that mess in potions!"
Severus sighed. "I'm waiting in case Madam Pomfrey needs something from me."
"What? You're not a healer," Lily hissed.
Severus' eyes narrowed. "You can go study without me if it's that important."
"But it's for potions! You always help me with potions!"
"Miss Evans, this is an infirmary," Madam Pomfrey said sternly. "If you cannot be respectful to our patients, then I am going to ask you to leave."
"But—"
Pomfrey gave her a look.
Lily gritted her teeth in anger and stormed out of the infirmary.
"You can go if you have to," the unknown girl whispered, her voice soft. "I'll be okay. I think."
Severus jerked his head. "She's being really strange. It's not like Lily ever cared what I did before." He huffed and sat down beside the bed. "I'm Severus. No one else seems to care, but I guess you should at least know my name."
The girl smiled warmly. "I'm Hermione. This is—" She patted the large daemonic-looking hound fondly. "Tromluí. He says he's mine, but—I swear I didn't summon him."
Tromluí huffed a cloud of dark smoke and fire at her hair, but she didn't burn.
"From what I understand," Severus said. "Magical familiars just sort of—find you. Something happens and the planets align or something. It was obvious he was protecting you, so—I guessed that's what he was. I've never seen his like before, though."
"He said you helped me when I was—erm, starkers."
Severus flushed. "It was nothing."
"Thank you," Hermione said shyly. "Most people would have just laughed at me and left me there."
"I—" Severus frowned. "I know the feeling. I don't really have any friends here. Even Lily—she's." He sighed. "I don't even know what she is anymore. I used to think—I don't even know why I'm telling you this. I don't—I normally don't talk to people that much."
"It's okay," Hermione said. "I won't tell anyone. I know what it's like having—friends who may or may not be your actual friends."
Severus frowned and was silent for a while. "I think you do. Understand, that is."
Tromluí wagged his serpentine tail and whuffed, but he was huge, so he almost knocked over the privacy screen. He whined softly, and laid his head down on Hermione's chest.
Hermione and Severus shared a giggle together at the huge hound's mishap.
"Headmaster, I know you run this school, but I run a very large Department of Mysteries, and when a young witch appears in a pool of magical slime with a giant magical familiar, that is very much a mystery that needs to be addressed by me," a stern voice came from the front of the infirmary.
"That sounds—pretty official," Severus observed.
Hermione nodded silently. "Tromluí says she smells trustworthy."
Severus' expression must have given away his thoughts all too well.
"He said you smelled trustworthy too," Hermione confessed.
Severus' brows knit together, unsure what to think of that.
Hermione pssssted at Tromluí. "He smells just fine. Like parchment and ink and—hush."
Severus blinked.
Hermione grimaced. "Sorry."
Severus stared at her.
"He said you needed a bit more woodsmoke in your scent," she said.
"A bit of—" Severus repeated.
She shrugged. "It's attractive to him," Hermione said.
"Hn," Severus answered.
"Ah, there you are," the woman they heard from afar said as she marched around the privacy curtain. "Hello. My name is Amelia Bones, and I run the Department of Mysteries. I was told you arrived in the middle of a blown up classroom with—ah yes, the hellhound. Fel-hound variety. Excellent trackers. Tendency to set random things on fire when emotional. Deep bonders. Fiercely loyal and protective. Pleased to meet you, Tromluí. And you, my dear? What is your name?"
Hermione blinked. "You can understand him?"
Amelia smiled. "I have many talents, my dear. There are a great many mysteries within the Department of Mysteries."
"I—oh," Hermione said. "I'm Hermione. Hermione—I can't seem to remember my last name, sorry."
"Tch, time travel does it. So does slamming into a phoenix while on your broom, but I don't really see that as being your problem. Do you remember your parents by chance?"
Hermione frowned in thought. "I—I know I have—I don't remember."
Amelia sat down in the chair near the bed. "Well, I have good news and bad news for you, my dear. The good news is that you are firmly anchored in this timeline. This is your home now and I will take care of you as best I can—the bad news is, there will be no going back. The person you were is now firmly anchored to this here and now. But that also means you get to keep Tromluí here. The memories you lost are the ones that would damage this timeline, but you are free to create new memories with us."
Hermione let out her breath slowly. "I didn't have any friends anyway," she admitted. "Even if I could manage to remember the names, I wouldn't have any names to give you. But—how did—what's an anchor?"
"A soul from this world—this time—that was meant to be tied to yours," Amelia explained. "Time can be fickle, but it also allows certain incursions, that is changes or people from one time to come to another, for what it considers a solution to a serious potential problem."
Hermione hugged tighter to Tromluí as she digested the information. "So, you have a problem I have to fix?"
"No, child," Amelia said kindly. "Sometimes it is to, perhaps, save you from a problem in your own time. We cannot say for sure, but—I will see if the headmaster will make an exception to the no-transfer rule at Hogwarts, but if that is not possible, I can set you up with a master at the DoM where you can learn whatever topic feels best for you."
"Thank you, Madam Bones," Hermione said softly.
"I'm going to go speak with the headmaster. Madam Pomfrey left you some salve for your skin—the aftereffects of the potions explosion."
With that, the woman swept from the room with a flash of movement so fast, both Severus and Hermione looked at each other with a bit of wonder.
*Told you she was strong and trustworthy,* Tromluí gloated, panting.
Severus' eyes went wide. "I can understand you!"
*Of course you can, you're her anchor.*
Severus blinked and fidgeted.
"He's very direct and to the point," Hermione said a bit sheepishly, "but he doesn't lie—well to me. And I guess to you, too."
*I wouldn't lie to my bondmate,* Tromluí said. His tail wagged, which was a bit detrimental to the potted Flitterbloom on the windowsill.
Severus caught it and set it back on the sill with an oof.
*Sorry, they really should make this room bigger,* the fel-hound complained.
"Where do you come from?" Severus asked.
Tromluí cocked his head to the side. *Home. Well, it was my home. It was dark there. A lot. And lonely. And everyone stole my stuff unless I tore them to pieces. I tore a lot of things to pieces. But when I felt her, I knew she was for me, so I adopted her.*
Severus frowned. "You—adopted her?"
*Of course,* the fel-hound said. *You don't find someone like her every day. She's a real keeper. I had to snap her up before someone else bonded to her, and then I'd have to murder them, put her back together, and bond with her myself, and that's way too much effort.*
Hermione giggled. "See? Honest."
Severus gawped and blinked.
*It's hard to find someone to share your soul and magic with and trust them to take care of it,* the fel-hound explained. *But once you find them, eternity is so much less lonely.*
He nuzzled Hermione and gave her a fond lick.
"You didn't have a choice?" Severus asked Hermione as she opened the jar of salve and began to run it into her skin.
"Well, I did, but—they were pretty horrible choices," Hermione said. "A lifetime of pain from magical burns or death. "A forever friend seemed like a no-brainer faced with those options."
*I'm adorable,* Tromluí said smugly. *I was the best puppy from my litter. Three of my brothers tried to kill me so they didn't have to share mum's milk with me, but I ate them.*
"I'm not sure that's adorable," Severus said. "That's pretty horrifying, actually."
Tromluí perked. *That's even better!* He itched one ear with his hind foot. *Where I come from, everyone looks out for themselves, but we all dream that one day we'll hear the call of the one we're meant to be with. We feel the pull, and FOOP! We can be where they are, hopefully murder whatever is hurting them, and bond for life over the blood of the vanquished and maybe share the heart or the liver. Especially the liver. They're the best when they're nice and fresh. I kind of botched that part because she was just so adorable. I got distracted with making sure our bond was tight, and by that time, there was no one left to murder. Maybe soon, though.*
"That's okay," Hermione said. "I love you even without a fresh bloody liver."
*Really?* Tromluí gasped. *You are the best bondmate ever! I'll share one with you anyway, but you're so considerate!*
He pinned Hermione down and gave her a thorough tongue bath of fire and flaming magic. Her hair looked rather slick afterwards, and she had to shove his muzzle away from her with a giggle.
"I have to put my salve on," she said.
She rubbed the salve on her arms as best she could but it was obvious that she was having difficulty with her back.
"Here, let me help," Severus said, slightly baffled by his willingness to help someone he'd only known a day when anyone else would have been given the narrowed eyes of contempt with a side of disdain.
"Thank you," Hermione said as he spread the salve over her back, frowning slightly at the burns scars, yet even as he rubbed it over her, the scars looked better and even started to fade along with the angry redness from the all too recognisable heat burn.
There was a scent about her that he found calming, even attractive, and he had to fight to remain composed as he slathered the salve on her skin. The strange surge of emotions boggled him as he'd never had such—tender feelings before. He'd always thought that Lily was his only real friend, but Hermione's genuine kindness seemed to make his definition of compassion take a 180-degree dive out the infirmary window.
"It was nothing," he managed to say.
Hermione was resting the day away, nestled up against Tromluí as he kept watch over her. Madam Pomfrey had enlarged the infirmary bed for her to accommodate for the unexpected presence of the fel-hound and then moved the privacy screens back a little to make room for his impressive bulk.
The headmaster was still dickering with Madam Bones over who had jurisdiction over the girl who showed up in the potions classroom, yet he seemed rather disconcerted over the fact that the fel-hound wasn't just going to poof back into the Aether from whence it came like a timer had gone off.
Tromluí sported a brand new familiar collar, a magical bit of runes inside his ear, a glamour and resizing spell for public crowds, and a few Muggle tags for all his recent vaccinations just to cover all the bases.
The poor guy that had to give the fiery fel-hound his jabs, however, looked ready to piss himself five times over.
She woke from her groggy sleep to hear Madam Pomfrey urgently expressing her concerns to the headmaster about episodes of recurring violence, but Dumbledore blithely dismissed her concerns.
"Boys will be boys, Poppy," she heard him say as the two walked out of the infirmary.
"That's a bunch of crock," Severus' voice muttered angrily from the other side of the screen.
"What happened?" Hermione asked, stirring from Tromluí's warm side.
"Potter and his merry band of morons caught me alone and dragged me with magic across the green over every possible shrub, bramble, and rose bush they could find," he answered.
"They sound like horrible people," Hermione said.
Severus sighed. "I've tried to get them in trouble for their constant harassment and outright attacks, but either no one believes me or those that do get dismissed by the headmaster as being harmless pranks.
*You should come over here so my healing aura can help you,* Tromluí said.
"I—"
"It's okay," Hermione said kindly. "There's plenty of room now. You can take one side of him and I'll stay on the other, so Madam Pomfrey doesn't have to give us the look of disapproval."
"She already gave you that?" Severus asked as he limped over toward the other side.
"I have a giant flaming 'dog', so yeah," Hermione said. She moved over to one side of the bed, Tromluí moved to the middle, and Severus took the other side.
"Thanks," Severus said, noticing that the moment he touched the fel-hound that his pain eased.
Both curled up next to the giant beast and their pillows, pulling the blankets over themselves.
In moments they were sound asleep, and Tromluí's eyes glowed a malevolent green as his tail wrapped over them both to tuck them closer to his side.
Snap!
Squeak!
With a quick snap, Tromluí chomped the annoying rodent that was sneaking around his bonded casting Dark curses, shifting back and forth from vermin to human to cast his nasty little spells.
He'd been getting frustrated when his spells had been pinging off the fel-hound's camouflaged skin, using all sorts of curses that would have killed or seriously wounded a lesser creature.
It made him wonder if this was normal two-legged behaviour. He decided it was, and he would deal with it like he did with all such annoyances back home and eat them.
If you were going to throw around Dark magic, then you shouldn't be surprised if something stronger and Darker wasn't going to put up with your shite and ate you.
Tromluí licked his teeth and yawned, curling himself protectively around his charges where they belonged—together and at his side.
"I'm telling you, Wormy went to the infirmary last night to fuck with Snivellus after he went and snitched on us, the git was trying to get us into trouble again," James told Sirius while they conspired together at the breakfast table.
"I was utterly knackered, mate," Sirius admitted, rubbing his chin. "We did drag him across the green most of the evening. I went to bed. He'll turn up, he always does."
James jerked his head. "He's not on the map, Pads."
"What?"
"I can't find him anywhere!"
Sirius practically grabbed James by the collar and stormed out of the Great Hall with him just as Remus entered the Great Hall and looked with conflict over following them versus eating the tasty-looking breakfast on offer.
"Hey Remus, come sit with me," Lily invited him.
Remus decided that food and company with Lily was better than following his mates who were probably just going off to pull some early morning prank while everyone else was occupied with inhaling their own body weight in eggs and bangers.
"It just doesn't make any sense!" Sirius complained, shaking the map in irritation. "He's not on here anywhere! Wormy MUST have ditched and gone to Hogsmeade for those stupid cheese crisps he loves so much."
James jerked his head. "No way! He would have told us, mate. He would have brought us back some butterbeer like he always does."
"It's not like he could just disappear into thin air," Sirius objected. "He'd be on the map!"
"Snivellus must have done something to him!"
"In the infirmary, mate?" Even Sirius looked rather dubious. "You saw what we did to him after he snitched on us. Snivelly was in no shape to cast anything, let alone detect Wormtail. If he doesn't turn up for class, we'll just have to go and look for him. Maybe the berk went and got knackered in Hogsmeade sneaking firewhisky out of the tavern again."
"No, Headmaster," Poppy said. "Mr Pettigrew wasn't here at all last night, as far as I know. If he had to come to the infirmary, he never came to me, and there was no one here he would have visited.
"And there is no way that—" Dumbledore began.
Poppy gave him a sharp scowl. "Headmaster, I have tolerated your mollycoddling of those Gryffindor bullies long enough. I put Mr Snape on a heavy dose of pain potion for the terrible injuries he came in with last night. And if you dare say it was just another harmless prank, I will have you know that I sent a record of his injuries to Healer Philip Collins, my colleague at St Mungos. He said they were consistent with someone who had been dragged across the ground. Like that wizard Titus Trembley that got his robes caught in a door of the Knight Bus and was dragged down the street. DRAGGED."
"You sent—"
Poppy glowered. "I had to. The injuries required a dosage of a potent skin regenerative that I haven't had to use before. I needed both the special potion from St Mungos and the right titration. Look. I've been treating Mr Snape for his entire Hogwarts career, since he was a wee lad of eleven, and these 'accidents' have only gotten worse over the years. Yet you consistently dismiss me every time I report them to you. You saw what he looked like last night and you dare tell me my own business when I say it was part of a consistent pattern of abuse and not just some boyish prank. Just because I have the magic to fix something eventually, does NOT take away the trauma of having it being done to him, and I am tired of him being consistently abused by that pack of ruffians and shoved under a rug. You make me think you're purposely ignoring the pain and suffering of a student under our care. It is our responsibility to protect Mr Snape as a young person at our school!"
Dumbledore looked over to where Snape was quietly reading his potions textbook in bed. "He looks fine n—"
Poppy levelled a dark scowl at him. "Just because I treated him professionally and he feels better does not make the incident go away, Headmaster.
"Maybe he d—"
"Headmaster Dumbledore!" Poppy seethed, her blue eyes narrowed in anger. "My patients are here being treated for very real, not imaginary injuries, and if you dare accuse THEM, the VICTIMS of being the ones responsible for something nefarious, then maybe you should look a little closer to home! If anything, it's about time something happened to their abusers, as I have a very long record of every injury each of my patients from all the houses that stem off these pranks you keep telling me are simply acts of harmless boyish mischief."
"Madam Pomfrey doesn't seem very happy with the headmaster," Hermione said as she snuggled into Tromluí's back.
"She's seen all of us come in here with various injuries from Potter and his merry band of wankers," Severus said. "They prefer me as their victim of choice, but that doesn't stop them from inflicting themselves on others. I just get their more violent 'pranks' they have." Severus sighed. "And it doesn't help that I rise to the bait every time. I can never let it go. I can never just stop wanting to see them pay for their pranks, but it always backfires on me. They somehow manage to find me whenever I'm alone, and it's always four against one. I can never figure out how, either."
*You should just eat them,* Tromluí said, tucking his tail around Hermione.
"That's not how we normally solve problems," Severus said with a furrowed brow.
*Not normally, so you do sometimes?* Tromluí asked.
Severus gaped slightly. "Um, no, not ever."
*You should try it sometime,* Tromluí recommended. *It's a highly effective way to get those that hurt you to stop.*
Hermione patted the fel-hound and fondly rustled his mane of tentacles. "I think we'll leave the eating of enemies to you."
Tromluí seemed to grin. *Great idea. I knew there were more reasons to love you.*
"You seem awfully calm about his eating people," Severus noted.
Hermione furrowed her brows. "I—feel like when my classmates put me at death's door and I bonded to a fel-hound that I became a bit more pragmatic about doing what's necessary to protect myself, and it's quite possible that my sense of justification is a little harsher than it was before."
She sighed. "He doesn't do it for sport, Severus. He hunts for food or to protect himself or me and you. And he doesn't eat someone just because they threatened us. He would only eat them if they tried to cause us serious harm, something that could potentially kill us."
She snuggled into Tromluí. "He makes me feel safe. Madam Bones says she's trying to get me to the DoM, but for some reason the Headmaster is fighting her. But he wants Tromluí removed from Hogwarts, and I don't want to be separated from him."
Severus frowned. "I don't understand why he'd fight so hard. He doesn't even know you. He hasn't even come here to speak with you."
*I can eat him,* Tromluí offered. *I don't trust him. He smells like spirits.*
"Spirits?" Hermione looked puzzled.
*Sweet and sticky alcohol,* Tromluí said. *It's on his robes. His breath smells of sticky sweet lemons and licorice.*
"How would you even know what those things are?" Severus asked, suspicious.
*From her mind,* Tromluí explained. *When we bonded, I instantly knew everything that she knew.*
"Even the things she forgot?" Severus asked.
*We both lost those memories coming to this time,* Tromluí said. *We bonded before time brought us here. This is where time decided we needed to be.*
Severus seemed thoughtful, but he pondered why this previously unknown girl had quickly become so important to him. Was her kindness so significant or was it possibly something more—or was magic just screwing with him?
Suddenly, Hermione seemed to withdraw into herself, her very light curling into itself like a closing flower. Her kind gaze withered like a plant during a drought. He saw it then—the same kind of loneliness he himself felt even when surrounded by people.
"You can go anytime you want," she said. "I don't believe in slavery or subjugation."
He immediately felt a rush of anger at the thought she'd been reading his mind, and it must have shown on his face because she pulled away even more. Yet, it made him even angrier because he thought she had no right to judge him.
Tromluí's eyes glowed. *Anchor or no, if you are going to abuse her kindness with bitterness and spite, then you can take it elsewhere before I remove your head from your shoulders with my teeth, and we will find another time in which to make our home.*
*Go. Away, boy.*
Tromluí tucked Hermione against him, covering her with his tentacles and tail.
And all the warmth that was in his mind and body left as a great and heavy force shut down the channel that had been unknowingly opened between them.
It was then that he realised what feeling alone truly was as Tromluí snarled and used his tail to move the privacy screen in front of him and cut off Severus' vision of Hermione curled against his side as tears flowed down her cheeks.
When he returned to classes, it was like his world was tinted in grey. Not even potions was as interesting.
Lily was hanging on him like some sort of codependent baby monkey, and her very touch—which he would have killed for but a week ago—felt as meaningless and hollow as a Slytherin handshake.
Worse, perhaps, because at least if you were in Slytherin you were expected to work together since everyone else usually hated your guts.
He realised with the sinking of a heavy stone in his stomach that he'd had something truly beautiful, and he'd gone and mucked it up.
For what?
Some slight, however small or large? A human mistake? A person who actually gave a shite about him and he took offence to their caring that he should have his own freedom?
Wasn't that what he wanted? Freedom?
She was worried because he was—
That was empathy, not pity.
She hadn't wanted to mock his pain. She'd wanted to let him know that he always had a choice.
Where to go.
Who to stay with.
With her—
Or without.
And he'd—shut the door in her face from a knee-jerk reaction of anger that—gods forbid—she actually knew what he was thinking.
Wasn't that what he complained about the most to himself? That no one understood what he was thinking? So when it finally did happen, he just fucked that right up too.
Good fucking work, Severus. You bloody wanker. You deserve this, he berated himself. You deserve this pain. You saw her pain and you did nothing. You FELT her loneliness, and you walked right out of her life and made her think you didn't give a bloody fig about her.
You made her think—that those gestures of kindness were just an act.
That the real person you were walked right out of her life.
And Dumbledore—
He looked all too happy up there at the High Table. Even as the Gryffindor table of wankers were all glowering darkly at him.
And of course, with Lily hanging all over him for studying, Potter and his fellow schmucks were even more determined to screw with him.
And with Lily paying him so much attention now, why was he so—the very opposite of happy?
"Lily, why the hell are you—"
"James, I have the right to go wherever my friend does—"
"You need to get out of here now!"
"You and your mates told Severus to be out here to meet you, so what does it matter if I'm here or not?"
"Lily, it's— you need to get back inside right now!"
"I'm waiting here for Severus."
Suddenly, Severus burst out from under the Whomping Willow and grabbed Lily by the wrist. "WEREWOLF!" he screamed. "Lupin is a FUCKING WEREWOLF!"
He ran, dragging her along with him as Lupin launched himself into the air from the tree and leapt over them with a vicious snarl. His teeth dripped with saliva and foam, and he eyed them both with very clear intent.
Severus jerked her away just as Lupin's teeth snapped but a fraction of an inch from her face—close enough that his distinctive chocolate-laden breath seemed to finally convince Lily that this was no mere illusion.
They stumbled backwards.
Severus cursed as he hastily cast Incarcerous to tie Lupin up, but the determined werewolf burst free from the ropes shortly after, even more annoyed than before. They ran, making not even a yell in their effort to run as fast as possible.
And then, their hearts sank into their feet as a dark shadow launched overhead with a gut-twisting feral roar.
A dark shape launched into Lupin and slammed the werewolf hard into the ground. Lupin yelped as—
They tripped over the wall long enough to see a great dark beast standing over the prone Lupin with its jaws dripping flame. It tore into his withers with its mouth wide enough to grasp the werewolf's back as dagger teeth sank deep around the spine and crushed it between its jaws as it used its weight to slam the werewolf off his feet into the dirt.
Just then, however, a Grim-like dog and a large stag slammed into the creature at once, one clamping on the beast's face as the other gored its side with his antlers.
Only then, an even more massive beast slammed into the stag, its mouth aflame, and jaws open wide as it—he—crushed the antlers, violently shaking the stag like a rag doll until the bony protrusions broke away from his skull. The beast roared, his entire body covered in fel-flames.
The "smaller" fel-hound's face dripped blood where the dog had mauled her face, and flames were dripping from the wound like blood. Everywhere her "blood" hit started to burn as though it were lava.
It was then, perhaps, that the dog seemed to realise that he was a minnow and his foe was a mosasaur by comparison.
Severus abruptly realised that the smaller fel-hound wasn't Tromluí when the bigger one came rushing into battle—until then he'd just assumed it was the only one he'd met before then.
The "smaller" one was undoubtedly Hermione.
And then he recognised the look in Hermione's eyes.
Hatred.
Cold, remorseless hatred.
Her lips pulled back from her flame-coated teeth, the teeth glowing like fire made solid.
If he hadn't known her compassion, he would never have recognised this creature at all. This beast was impenitent and furious. There was no breath of kindness. No pity.
It was then, the dog leapt at her, perhaps driven insane, perhaps blinded by battle and bloodlust.
Hermione's jaws opened, and Severus saw her muscles tense in anticipation.
"Be still, child," Severus heard the voice both in his head and in his ears. It was a deep vibration of power that extended outward like a net and it rolled over him like a wave of heat and ice.
Hermione immediately stood still.
"Come to me, child," the voice said as a dark figure stepped out of the shadows.
And Hermione just ignored the dog that was trying to take on her mane of tentacles and walked toward the figure.
The pale face of the man he'd seen at Slughorn's dinners caused Severus to have a moment of disorientation. Sanguini? Eldred Worple's guest?
Gone was the disinterested, bored, even insignificant stature. This man was obviously accustomed to being obeyed, and his aura of power was both hot and cold.
He reached out to seize the dog by the throat and crushed its windpipe before he flung him headlong into the Willow—which was only happy to pound the dog into the dirt and send him flying into the lake to either drown or survive, whichever came first.
The pale man pulled the ribbon out of his hair and his long black hair fell about his shoulders. "Hello, Hermione, my heartmate. I am Mihail. The rabble call me Sanguini."
Hermione brightened, and there was that surge of warmth again. Life. She wriggled against his hands and rubbed up against him, slurping his face with excited wriggles and thankful licks.
The man's eyes glowed crimson in the dark. Both the red of blood and gold with power. His mouth opened in a grimace as fangs flashed, and he bit into his wrist and let the blood flow.
"Let there be no doubt that I am yours," the vampire said.
Hermione licked at the blood as one would savour an ice cream cone, and Severus saw a sort of meeting of the seas of power between them until they mixed and became a solid melding of energy and magic.
The vampire then offered his wounded wrist to Tromluí, and the larger fel-hound lowered his head to take the blood as well.
Sanguini lay his forehead against Hermione's.
"I have waited thousands of years to hear your heartbeat, heartmate. I am gratified to find you at last finally. However, I am somewhat aggrieved that our first meeting is upon a field of battle, but I suppose, given my rebirth on the battlefield, this seems a rather appropriate meeting place."
Hermione wagged her tail, which would have been comical just because of the size of her compared to everything around her save for Tromluí.
Tromluí, who was even bigger, somehow.
Sanguini's glowing eyes came to rest upon Severus and Lily, Severus who was speechless and Lily who was babbling random factoids about making cheese in France and wanting to stroke Sanguini's hair.
"I fear there is room for only one queen in my life, child," Sanguini said, his voice a velvety purr. "And this is her," he said as he gestured to Hermione. "I fear you just don't measure up." He looked at Lily and Hermione's height and shrugged. "Literally."
Sanguini's crimson eyes blinked and returned to a dark coffee brown that appeared black in the dark of night. "Are you alright, children?"
How old is this vampire that he calls everyone a child? Severus wondered.
"Very," Sanguini said as if to reply.
"I am—slightly scuffed but nothing seems to be broken," Severus replied.
"You're so gorgeous," Lily babbled.
"This is why I do not normally make a show of my power. I do so detest sycophants," Sanguini muttered. He made a swift gesture with his hand. "Go back to your dormitory, child. Sleep for—what day is this, Friday?"
"Friday," Severus agreed automatically.
"Sleep for two days in between taking care of your usual personal hygiene. Wouldn't want you piss yourself, would we? Wake up on Monday morning and have a very powerful need to study for your OWLs, do well in class, and have no distractions until you graduate."
"Yes, most gracious master!" Lily babbled inanely as she shuffled off to do as she was told.
Sanguini rolled his eyes. "And now for your first lesson, my heartmate," he said. "How to swallow down your power and appear to be the lowest of talents, so we can let Tromluí pretend to be our shared familiar, hrm?"
His eyes flashed a deep violet, and Hermione's echoed them.
Hermione's body shrank as she seemed to fold into herself and become a bipedal human again. She then teetered, wobbled a bit, and Sanguini caught her deftly, cradling her close in his arms rather like a Muggle movie monster with its hapless female victim.
"You may follow, or you may simply stand there and get mauled by the wounded werewolf who might reach you before you snap out of the brain fog," Sanguini said pointedly. "I care not which you choose."
He strode into the castle with Hermione in his arms and Tromluí following attentively at his side.
Severus jerked alert and quickly followed as Lupin tried to stand once more and whined as his rear legs refused to obey him. Nearby, the de-antlered buck struggled to lift his bloodied head from the ground and let out a pained bleat.
Drama at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!
Hogwarts headmaster Albus Dumbledore is currently under investigation after a confirmed student werewolf was permitted to roam free last week. It is believed the werewolf in question mauled two of his supposed best mates, putting both wizards in St Mungos with crushed and broken bones, severe spinal trauma, and a number of bludgeoning injuries. The student werewolf has been transferred to a high security hospital location.
All three students' names have been withheld due to their status as minors.
Two years later
July 1978
Severus awoke with a grimace as an owl landed on the mail perch with a loud SMACK that jingled the bells on the perch to alert him that he had mail. He groaned and pulled himself out from underneath his warm blankets and trudged over to the perch. He gave the owl a preserved frog and took the scroll. "Thanks."
The owl seemed rather unimpressed, but flew off with a hoot.
Severus opened the scroll, scratching his rear idly as he waited for the scroll to unfurl itself.
"Congratulations, Mister Snape, on your successful completion of your NEWTs. Your results are as follows…"
Severus scanned the rest and closed his eyes.
He'd succeeded. Yet, he didn't feel overly proud.
He hadn't felt proud of himself in over two years now. Not since he'd ruined the first peace his mind and soul had ever found. Not since he'd let himself be lured into a trap by the Gryffindor gang and had to be rescued by the very same person he'd basically told to piss off.
And she would have killed those idiots, too. He saw it in her eyes. What wasn't there.
No compassion for those that lived in Hogwarts. No remorse. No pity.
They had attacked her, and like a true fel-hound, she had reacted in kind, and the only thing that kept her from eating them was the vampire, Sanguini.
The one who had brought her back into compassion.
The one that had opened his soul to her only seconds after meeting her.
It should have been him.
If he hadn't accused her of inflicting some mental voodoo on him—manipulating him, he would have been able to connect to her, hear her voice.
Instead, Sanguini had stepped in to save not only her but Severus and Lily—leaving his attackers and the werewolf to moan and bleed under the moonlight until Dumbledore and his staff went out to scrape them off the ground.
Or in Lupin's case, bind him up so he couldn't bite anyone and then take him elsewhere. The Wizarding World didn't care about werewolves one lick except for one thing—they cared a lot about locking them away so they couldn't bite more people.
He had no doubt that Lupin's days of roaming the nights as a free spirit on moon nights were well and truly over.
And he—he had been brought to the DoM, examined there by their healers, officially taken out of Hogwarts, and assigned one of their masters to teach him until he finished his NEWTs.
And he hadn't heard her speak one word to him since.
And Lord Sanguini—a vampire lord, no less—gave strict instructions that no contact was to be made with her until after the trial of Albus Dumbledore was completed.
And that was a sodding nightmare.
Apparently, Dumbledore had chosen to act upon the word of one Sybill Trelawney, the dotty granddaughter of the renowned seer, Cassandra Trelawney. The witch had reportedly insisted that if he didn't take immediate action to prevent it, a Dark Lord would rise and cause the destruction of the Wizarding World.
As for what those things were—that was still being sorted out, and until they did, Lord Sanguini was taking no chances.
Especially when assassins had begun coming out of the woodwork—not to go after Dumbledore but what seemed like random people.
And Hermione—and Tromluí—they became counter assassins. Extensions of Lord Sanguini's will to protect those living and working in the DoM.
And it was through watching them from afar that Severus learned he'd only had a small taste of what true understanding and trust could be like. Sanguini drilled her in the art of silent combat. Body language. Mind to mind. Gesture. Lack of it. And beneath that vicious use of her fel-hound body, there was a kind of soulful art that came from her trust of him implicitly and his responsibility to her safety, efficiency—and ultimate ruthlessness.
And after seeing them tearing each other apart in drills, with fur, claws, teeth, trees, and benches flying in all directions only to be found resting in the Arbouretum sharing the hot springs together.
This is what I missed, he thought. Because of my cruelty, my blindness.
Yet, she had gifted him with life.
And his transfer to the DoM had been another gift— free of the judgement of his supposed peers, one side only valued him for what he could be used for while the other devalued him for those very same traits.
He couldn't even say he had baggage as an excuse because what amount of baggage could possibly compare to that of a vampire that had lived thousands of years and was sired in a war that made a magical war look like a performance by the Bolshoi Ballet?
But all of this was based on what he'd managed to observe from afar. The outside looking in, like some stray cat hoping to come in from the cold snow to lie at the warm hearth.
The hearth he had forsaken out of his mistaken assumptions and bitter pride.
If the trial with Albus was ever concluded, would he then have a chance to finally ask Hermione for forgiveness? Would he ever stop feeling the gaping chasm inside himself that had never really been about Lily?
The only way he was going to be able to be around for that was to take a job with the DoM and become a true resident. That meant—
Severus grimaced.
Conquering the immense mountain of paperwork that was the infamous DoM job application.
Time to get moving.
If he was lucky, maybe the paperwork would fall on top of him like an avalanche and murder him.
When he moved into his new private chambers at the DoM, he found them already furnished with all the things he never thought to see in his own place. There were stone bookcases lined with wood with felt bottoms to protect the more delicate parchments and tomes he might collect. Deep gemstone-coloured carpets covered stone and hardwood floors. Comfortable chairs that both looked and felt comfortable—something that could never truly come from a new piece—told him someone had gone to the painstaking trouble of picking out something they knew would be comfortable for him.
And perhaps they guessed that he would rather have a comfortable, well-preserved, and well-loved piece of furniture than a new piece with no history attached to it. The elegant clawed chairs and tables had a smoothness about the carvings that hinted of use not enshrinement. The linens were a sort of smooth yet tactile silk that didn't scream slippery but soft and warm like the finest wool.
There was a small kitchenette that was already well-stocked, and a parchment on the counter for marking off groceries requested for the week on one part, basic supplies on another. The middle and main room's ceiling was ensorcelled to appear like the natural sky, and it provided a natural feel that he'd never had in the dungeons of Hogwarts.
On the far side, a small potions laboratory was kept separate from the other rooms with a vent provided to whisk away any stray fumes that might occur. The walls were made of stone and had been left undecorated—easy to clean should an accident occur, but a soft, surprisingly bouncy mat lay where he would stand that made it seem like he was standing on a cloud. The ingredient and reagent storage was located in a separate room off the brewing area ensuring there was no risk of contamination.
The bathroom had a separate shower area, but there was a deep, bubbling hot spring "tub" that had just enough magic to ensure that any "filth" he might wash off didn't stick around. There was a bar of what seemed like a honey oatmeal-based soap on the sink, a pleasing citrus-scented shampoo and conditioner in the washing area, and deep forest green towels that looked almost black but were also surprisingly soft and fluffy. The floor was textured to prevent slipping if he decided to go from the shower to soak in the hot springs.
Was this what everyone got in the DoM? No wonder the application process was such a pain in the arse, he thought.
There was a magical slate by the door that had his work schedule printed on it with a monthly calendar he could write on with the magical quill, and he felt like a small child doodling stick figures and crude drawings on it and then erasing it hoping that someone was looking at it somewhere.
Especially that particular doodle of all the stick Marauders lying sprawled around an angry tree where a certain tall stick figure was being hung by its own overly long beard.
Lingering anger issues, perhaps.
Maybe.
Okay, he confessed. He had a LOT of anger to spare, not only for others but himself as well.
Perhaps, especially himself.
It was one thing to be angry at those who had contributed to his pain, but being a greater part of what had ruined something that had been actually beautiful just made it harder to swallow.
At least with a stable job that he didn't actually hate, he would be able to work on his own projects and, if the gods were with him, he might get a chance to speak to Hermione and beg her forgiveness.
For the guilt was still painfully fresh as the day he'd done it.
"Sev!"
Severus, startled from his wool-gathering, jerked his head up from where he was sitting at the atrium fountain. "Lily?"
"I've been looking for you forever, Sev! Wherever have you been hiding?" Lily ran up to him throwing her arms around him as she pressed a kiss to his cheek on both sides.
Stunned, he stared at her. "Lily, what are you doing here?"
"That's all you have to say?" Lily exclaimed. "I haven't seen you in years!"
"It—it's not like you ever answered any of my letters," Severus said coolly. "All I know is you opened some witchy shop in Hogsmeade with McKinnon and McDonald."
"I was busy, you know how it is," Lily said defensively. "But I did finally find you, and I brought you something you forgot when you left Hogwarts."
Severus blinked.
She pulled out a small wrapped object tied with twine.
Severus took the object with a furrowed brow. "What is it?"
"I don't know," Lily said. "Dumbledore told me it was yours, and asked me to bring it back to you."
"Dumble—" Severus repeated, frowning. He tugged at the twine and unwrapped the cloth around the object.
Inside was a delicate-looking ring with the initial "P" formed in intricate gold and surrounded by tiny diamonds.
Severus touched the ring as he said "the Prince family ring? But how—"
The moment he touched it, however, his gaze turned glassy as a flash of acid green magic shot across his eyes and through his body, and he dropped it to crush a terrified Lily's throat with his fingers.
"Mud. Blood. Filth. Must. Be—eradicated," he growled as his hand constricted.
Lily choked, struggling against him frantically. "S-S-Sev!" she rasped.
"Sev isn't here anymore, Mudblood bitch," Severus snarled, his voice now oddly transformed, sounding higher. Distinctly different. "You're going to die, and your little friend here is going to take all the blame as he murders every single man, woman, and child in this filth-ridden abomination because now I know everything he knows, and the Dark Lord shall reward me greatly for my dutiful service. So, in thanks for your help, Mudblood, you get to die first."
"Hermione," said a cold voice. "Fetch."
A dark shape moved much faster than the eye could track and jerked Lily away from Severus' iron grip, carrying her away as another dark shape pounced on Severus and slammed him hard into the ground.
Sanguini flicked his eyes for a moment to Lily as she grasped at her throat, gasping harshly for air. He then walked over to where Severus was and flipped him over and looked down at him. "You've been a very naughty girl, Sybill."
Severus' eyes widened. "There is no way you could have known—"
Sanguini's eyes closed slightly. "I do, now."
"YOU DARE USE MIND TRICKS ON ME?!" Severus screeched in outrage. "I AM THE DARK LORD'S PATH TO DOMINATION OVER THIS PATHETIC COUNTRY! NOT EVEN BELLATRIX CAN ECLIPSE MY GENIUS!"
Severus jerked his head and savagely bit into Sanguini's restraining hand, drawing blood.
Sanguini's expression shifted from surprise to clear amusement. "You really are a daft cow, aren't you? While I loathe such lower language, te uiti ca vițelul la poartă nouă." He leaned right into Severus' face. "Pizda mă-tii pe gheață! You just drank my blood. You couldn't escape me now even if you tried, idiotul naibii."
"Tromluí," Sanguini said with a smile. "Be a dear and fetch for me, will you?"
He levelled a gaze to Severus as the fel-hound disappeared with a near ecstatic bark of anticipatory glee. "You cannot be here and there saving yourself simultaneously. Which shall you do, child?"
"Hermione, my love, if you would," Sanguini said, and the fel-hound placed one paw on Severus' chest to weigh him down.
Tromluí returned, a woman seeming swaddled in shawls and wearing thick glasses that made her eyes bug out. He growled as she screamed, and he shook her harshly—
And a rather thin, even attractive, yet crazy-eyed woman fell out of the great bundle of cloth and enchantments. Her blonde hair was short but clean. She could obviously see quite well without her glasses as she took in the sight of Sanguini and immediately turned into a simpering mess.
"M-master!" she grovelled. "I have failed you! What can I do to make up for my ineptitude!?"
As the Aurors came out of the shadows along with a squad of Unspeakables, Sanguini's eyes glowed gold over crimson. "You can start by telling these fine people everything you know and everything you've done to subjugate Severus Snape in explicit detail."
Sybill Trelawney Convicted Of Subjugation, Dark Magic, Conspiracy To Murder, Unforgivables, As Well As The Above Involving The Ensorcellment Of A Minor Student At Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry!
Aurors Crash Recruitment Party of Rising Dark Lord
Many Pureblood Scions Dead or Sentenced To Azkaban
Dark Lord Himself Commits Suicide By Auror!
"You Can't Kill Me! I'm Immortal!"
Severus stared at the pale, blank-staring man as he rocked back and forth like a zombie from a Muggle movie.
"I don't think this is quite what Tom Riddle imagined when he said he was immortal."
Sanguini rubbed Hermione's ears idly. "Ah, well, the Head Boss of Us does like to have her ends tied up neatly, and that makes it easier for the rest of us to get a peaceful day's sleep."
Severus frowned. "So, Sybill was his agent all along, planted to feed Dumbledore the wrong information so he'd encourage Potter and his cronies to pick on someone—and they of course chose me—just so whoever they picked on would be prime pickings for his cult. Only they thought I would work for them willingly because of my grudge against anything Potter was involved with. But how did Sybill even get Dumbledore's ear?"
"Tom had a history with Dumbledore," Sanguini said with a sigh. "He could feed him information that no one else would have known about the supposed Dark Lord—with just enough vagueness added to make it seem like a prophecy and not insider information. And you were key to taking out the Department of Mysteries—a place that their agent Rookwood had already botched up. Once Sybill learnt of your closeness to someone very likely to be taken into the DoM, Dumbledore had to stall to give her sufficient time to take your mun's ring and enchant it to trigger when you were in the DoM."
"That was why he was fighting to keep Hermione there at Hogwarts," Severus realised.
"Yes," Sanguini agreed. "But you were getting too close to Hermione, and a genuine friendship would have ruined the subjugation, so Dumbledore made sure your paranoia won out."
"And the distancing?"
Sanguini sighed. "I realised that there was something amiss but was not certain what it was. I could not risk it triggering around Hermione lest she do exactly what her instincts told her to do."
"Take me out," Severus translated.
"Either way, Albus won—well, ultimately Trelawney did."
"You don't strike me as being the type that wouldn't have been able to handle such a thing," Severus said, feeling a bit bitter.
"I fear that I could not risk your death over it," Sanguini said with a sigh. "Her instincts are—very well defined, and it has taken much training for her to be able to get to this point where they are not instant and utterly ruthless. That night when she transformed and saved you—it was not a gradual natural process. It was quick and brutal. Her mind was utterly caught up in fel-hound instincts. I had to roll my power into her to pull her back from murderous wrath. And it has been a battle for the last few years to keep her from being overrun by those powerful impulses. Physical contact was necessary to quite literally anchor her mind while the fel-hound sorted itself out. And while I was also worried about what might trigger you, I was very worried that something would happen that would cause her to shift and hurt someone."
Hermione whined softly, pressing her head into his lap.
Sanguini rubbed her ears and down her mane of tentacles.
"For the lack of a satisfyingly quick resolution, I can only apologise. There was no telling what the trigger was, and I did not want to risk her or you in the case it was related to proximity or her voice."
Severus blinked as he realised that it hadn't just been him suffering during that time, but it had also been Hermione and by proxy, Sanguini himself. All that drilling and contact he saw them engaged in, while torturous to watch from his end, had been absolutely necessary to anchor the hound in her.
The hound that had been released in her desperation to save his life—
All of it had been so SHE wouldn't murder HIM.
"And in the end, it was Lily that brought me my mum's old ring," Severus said. "I would have killed her."
"Not you, technically," Sanguini pointed out. "Your possessed body, but yes."
"Is she—all right?" Severus asked.
"Miss Evans is being kept in an isolated healer-tended room until they are sure she isn't carrying any compulsions as well as being the one that brought you that ring," Sanguini said. "The only reason we are able to speak now in some semblance of normalcy is because the moment Trelawney was cast out, the master neuro-healers were on you like dragonbats on a mango grove. Hers, however, may be a bit more insidious as she has never been in the DoM in a strictly controlled, highly protected environment."
Sanguini tched. "She will be, as I understand it, perfectly fine. Whether she believes that or not is not our problem."
Severus winced. Despite everything, Lily had been the brightest spot in his young life for quite some time, and there was a bit of an almost automatic concern for her wellbeing.
No matter how contradictory it was or how he really felt about her. Their relationship had been one of give and take, with him doing the giving and Lily doing the taking of whatever it was he gave, and it had started to unravel long before Hermione stepped into the picture to prove to him what genuine care actually felt like.
"I feel like everytime something remotely positive happens in my life it is taken away," Severus said glumly.
Sanguini levelled his gaze at Severus. "There is a very good solution for that. It doesn't always work, but I think your chances are very good in this particular one."
Severus blinked.
Sanguini closed his eyes and continued to rub Hermione's ears. "Fight for what you love, Severus. If you do not fight, then no one will ever know how much you care."
Severus frowned. "Like I would stand a chance against one such as you."
Sanguini smiled. "Good thing for you that I share."
Severus' eyes widened as the truth sank in. "Oh," he managed to say.
*I don't,* Tromluí announced. *You're all mine, and I'll eat anyone who dares say different.*
Severus paled and passed out as the flood of the forgotten anchor bond rushed into his mind and over every channel of magic, tightened, and solidified.
Sanguini rubbed his chin with his fingers. "That went well."
Tromluí lay on top of Severus' rather flattened body with a fel-hound grin of victory plastered on his muzzle.
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore Found Guilty of Deliberate Endangerment, Manipulation, and Mental Conditioning of Students Attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!
Claims Actions Were "For the Greater Good" In War Against You-Know-Who!
Amelia frowned slightly as a glob of flesh fell from the ceiling and went splat on the floor of the tavern and Tromluí greeted her with a happy whuft and tail wag.
Her eyebrow twitched along with her eyelid as the massive fel-hound chaos and wanton destructive aftermath of three rather lethargic post-Death Eater-slaughter beasts.
"Are you lot through, or do you need a moment?" Amelia asked, eyebrow raising.
Severus was chewing enthusiastically on what might have recently been someone's cherished family jewels.
"Severus, spit that out, love," Sanguini said with a slight wince as he cleaned under his talons with a shining file. "Gods only know what's been growing on that."
The pitch black fel-hound spat out the offending gonad against the marble floor and watched as it rolled away.
Hermione perked, ears and eyes both interested.
"No," Sanguini said firmly.
Hermione drooped and padded over to Sanguini and lay her head in his lap, all of her mane-tentacles demanding rubs.
Sanguini sighed as if it was a large inconvenience but then snuggled her. She wrapped her mane tentacles around his arms as if to prevent him escaping and rumble purred-growled for his affection.
Amelia watched as both Tromluí and Severus became super jealous of the attention and simultaneously pounced Sanguini into the floor in a spontaneous snuggle pile. "Only a vampire with fel-hounds could pull off such casual affection around the fresh corpses of the vanquished."
"Would you rather have a war?" Sanguini asked.
"No, I'm fine with it being resolved, but the paperwork for wiping out this many pureblood family lines is going to be atrocious.
"Send it to the Undead Nation," Sanguini recommended. "We have solicitors and barristers the likes of which live to destroy the egos of law makers around the world."
"Tempting," Amelia said. "But, it's already bad enough that I sent in a lone vampire and three fel-hounds to end a war before it even got started."
"I'm sure it could have been more creatively worse," Sanguini said languidly. "There could have been a rampaging swarm of ravenous flesh-eating locusts, invasive purple spotted crocagators the size of a shire horse, or rabid politicians with negative intelligence scores."
The fel-hounds all snort-growled menacingly.
Sanguinis tched.
Amelia waved her hand as a squad of Unspeakables and Aurors descended upon the scene. "Time to earn your salaries, people, spit spot."
"Ma'am!" the squads exclaimed, setting to work.
"It's not fair, Sev," Lily complained. "Dumbledore had tried to help us!"
"Help us do what?" he said dryly. "Become a patsy?"
Severus frowned as he suffered through one of the social meetups with his childhood friend. It was obligatory in many ways, but a part of him felt strangely obligated to be there for her as a friend, even if it wasn't very much of a role.
"He was always so helpful," Lily said mulishly
Severus sighed. It was useless to argue with her. Even after she herself had brought him the object that turned him into a homicidal murderer at the old man's behest, she still had a pat excuse for everything. Some reason that made her out to be a hapless victim. Some story that induced a feeling of pity in many—
But not him.
He knew what a wholesome relationship was, now—well, as healthy as a relationship between three bonded fel-hounds and a vampire could be.
Life was never dull. That was for certain.
And Sanguini had stressed the importance of treasuring these initial memories—this first life. This first natural span of the living where everyone was still of the same age, same generation. While he wasn't very proud of his beginnings, he did confess that it may not have been a great life, but it had led him to meeting Hermione, Tromluí, and Sanguini. While their start had been admittedly bumpy, the ending wasn't so much that but a beginning of truly living a life he wanted.
He admitted after a while that Sanguini was probably, annoyingly right.
He was pretty sure that Lily just needed to complain about how unfair life was no matter what situation she was in. She'd married Potter (though whether it was for love or money, Severus had no idea.) What she did with her life, he didn't care about anymore. It wasn't his life to worry over her, but he could at least recognise that Lily had her own problems she had to work out that no one but her could fix until she fixed herself.
He'd been lucky. So very lucky.
He hadn't felt like it at the time—feeling like he'd been the ultimate failure—but he understood why Sanguini had absolutely kept him from accidentally being triggered to attack Hermione.
The Wizengamot had proven just how insidious Dumbledore had been in his quest to win the war that existed inside his head. It was logical that the old man would have left some sort of hidden present inside Severus.
He just hadn't had time to due to Hermione falling unexpectedly into his life, jostling his carefully planned time table.
Despite how horrible it had felt going through it, Hermione would have done her level best to take him out on an instinctual level, and only now that he was free of triggers did the original anchor bond take over and prove to him on a genetic level what forces of instinctual merciless wrath a fel-hound was capable of.
And whose loyalty and affection was such a priceless gift.
And how powerful a gift it was that Sanguini had found her when he had—been in the right place, been able to recognise her for his heartmate.
Prevented her fate from being one of violence and mistrust.
What they had now was as long as they lived, and between Sanguini's ancient immortal bloodline and a fel-hounds inherent resilience, their combined power of body, magic, and soul made for a pact that would last as long as their quadrumvirate remained.
And he didn't see it ending anytime soon.
Especially since there were other vampires that were poised to join their lines with Sanguini to merge their own power bases.
Vampires that were not exactly small examples of their species in any way, shape, or form.
But if anything being bonded for life to Sanguini taught him, to have a short life was gift—it injected passion into the finite span of time, and not all mortals could handle the transition from the finite to the potential forever, for did they have the energy to keep up such passions for the longer lifetime?
Having a mortal life gave meaning in the fleeting moments.
And Sanguini had found meaning in Hermione, just as Tromluí had—just as Severus himself had.
She was the keystone that had allowed each of them to find the inspiration to survive a very long life.
Lily could—and those like her—they would obtain a form of immortality through whatever they left behind, a possibility of greatness that could only be judged by how much of her valuable life was spent achieving significance.
But, Severus had come to realise that the gifts he had been given outweighed the loss of timeless significance through accomplishment in brevity.
And he had learned to—forgive.
It did not mean he would forget the significant pains in his life. It just meant that he would move on and find other more important things to focus on. Like a cure for dragon pox or perhaps even lycanthropy. Or convincing his mates how much he appreciated them.
Though, it might take him a while to stop finding much satisfaction in gloating over how the lives of his tormentors had become so—mediocre.
Being convicted as unregistered Animagis made it impossible for them to become Aurors, so Potter had to work in his wife's witchy shop—something he was sure the "man" would far rather not be doing. Brewing Sleekeazys, shampoos and conditioners, hand and body creams, myriad noxious flowery perfumes—well, have a good life, James Potter.
Heh.
Black had so many broken and shattered bones that he had a permanent limp and walked with the aid of a cane ( one not unlike Lucius'), and that pretty boy face now sported a wide assortment of rather gruesome scars that did not turn on the ladies nearly as much as he'd hoped.
Pettigrew was still missing, and Severus had a very strong suspicion that Tromluí had made that happen, but if he had, the hound wasn't telling. Not because he wasn't honest, he just had a hard time telling one annoying pest from another before he ate them.
Lupin had killed himself, at least, that is what Wizarding Britain believed. Most of them, anyway. He, like other convicted werewolves who just wanted to live their lives away from those like Fenrir Greyback, was shipped to the werewolf colony in Norway, somewhere in the Svalbard archipelago.
Apparently, polar puffskeins lived there on Spitsbergen, and herding them was a lucrative but dangerous occupation—not that the puffskeins were rabid animals, but they had a unique and highly sticky saliva that could bond anything together—if you could get to it before it solidified and place it under a stasis.
And if you could manage to avoid getting stuck outside and becoming a frozen weresicle… or polar bear food.
Who knew?
Severus, being Muggle-raised, would just go to the corner store and pick up a tube of cyanoacrylate adhesive. It was a lot easier and far less dangerous. At least then, he wouldn't have to worry that a polar bear would nosh upon his paralysed body while he was still alive.
No, thank you.
Still, it was a very welcome and lucrative source of income for the werewolves—and it funded their entire colony. So, at least they were able to provide for themselves and not be outmanoeuvred for a job by an ordinary witch or wizard.
As for Dumbledore—
He was found guilty of so many additional charges. But he never served any time because he escaped on the wings of a phoenix. Right in front of the entire Wizengamot.
They, of course, put a huge bounty on his head, but there were very few people brave or stupid enough to try their luck with the likes of Albus Dumbledore—the wizard who took out Gellert Grindelwald in his own fortress.
So, the Ministry became—frustrated.
And when the Ministry gets frustrated, they call in Amelia Bones.
And when Amelia Bones wanted someone very dangerous to disappear—
She sent Sanguini.
And so Sanguini took his fel-hounds out to a picnic across Britain and beyond.
Sanguini did manage to save the head before it was devoured—not for lack of trying—and that came back to the DoM, where it was logged, recorded, signed off on, and thrown through the Veil Gate.
Oops.
Curiously, all the fel-hounds gained lemon sherbet breath after the incident, much to Severus' consternation.
And disturbingly brightly coloured wings and feathers on their tails like some sort of prehistoric flying reptile.
Sanguini grew a crest of colourful feathers on his head like a crown, and he would have found this annoying had Hermione not decided it made him look very sexy.
The feathers were instantly forgiven.
Tromluí, of course, thought the evolution into phoenix fel-hounds was outstanding, as no fel-hound in history had ever been able to fly.
Perhaps, multiple generations from now, flying fel-hound pups would curl around the burning fires of chaos and want to hear stories about the idiot that literally gave their kind wings.
And, perhaps, most disturbingly, gifted them with strangely lemon-scented fel-breath and flatulence.
All of this, Severus realised, Lily would never know. It was probably better that way.
He was content to sit there and listen to her whinge if only like a patient grandparent knowing they could hand back their grandchild—and he could go back home and enjoy hours of toe-curling, passionate horizontal, diagonal, or pick-a-direction entertainment.
He had patience.
If anything the Potter family was good for—drama.
And Tromluí had always taught them that drama often meant lots of fun later on.
Severus smiled.
Good enough for him.
The train puffed a great cloud of steam into the air as the students all hurried to board the train, find themselves a compartment, and stow their trunks for the long ride to Scotland
Severus eyed the long line of carrot-topped children with no little consternation.
*Maybe they are a type of dog, too,* Tromluí said, sniffing the air curiously. *Not as cool as us, but—you know. Litters of pups, only pink and squishy with no claws or teeth."
"Gods, I hope not," Hermione said fervently. "For some reason just seeing the Weasleys give me gas."
Anton, Benjamin, and Charlotte hugged their parents tightly, carefully dangling their "familiar" cages that all had some suspiciously daemonic-looking felines inside.
*This sucks!*
*Why do we have to look like cats?*
*We eat cats!*
Sanguini levelled his gaze to the cages. "Because good little 'felines' get to accompany the children to school and protect them should anything happen that requires it."
The disgruntled daemonic felines smouldered.
*Fine.*
*You win.*
*I guess.*
*It would be easier if they simply shifted and ate their adversaries and rivals,* Tromluí suggested.
Severus, Hermione, and Sanguini jerked their heads together. "No."
Tromluí sulked. *No fun.*
Severus lifted his head as Lily rushed her young hellion of a boy-child in front of her. His cart was full of baggage decorated with childish painted depictions of bright purple dragons and hot pink unicorns.
"His little sisters must have helped him pack," Hermione whispered, smothering a laugh with her hand.
Severus curled his lip in disdain. "Glorious."
As their children gathered up their things and filed into the train, Lily ushered her little wizard onto the train, hovering over him like a mother hen upon spotting a hawk eyeing her chicks for breakfast, second breakfast, and afternoon tea.
"I do feel a bit sorry for that one," Sanguini confessed. "I cannot even imagine our children being so—smothered."
"HARRY JAMES POTTER, YOU GET ON THAT TRAIN RIGHT THIS MINUTE!" Lily screeched, shoving the boy's belongings into his arms.
"Lovely," Sanguini said.
"Quite," Severus said.
"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY, YOU TAKE YOUR TOAD WITH YOU RIGHT NOW!"
"But, Mum, I want a REAL familiar! An OWL! Not a bloody useless TOAD!" a carrot haired boy whinged.
"That one definitely gives me gas," Hermione said, belching a small jet of lemon-scented fel-flames.
"Well, those two will definitely become friends," Sanguini predicted. "Match made in Tartarus."
Severus wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I'm so glad I'm not a teacher. I'd surely murder those two."
"I'm really glad I'm not in their class. I can't even imagine how horrible that would be!" Hermione noted.
All three of them and Tromluí shuddered together at the mere thought.
The train slowly pulled away from the station, and by some miracle, everyone was still alive and on the train as they should be.
The three of them waved to their adventurous young pups with smiles on their faces, and their happy pups waved back excitedly.
"Do you think they'll burn down Hogwarts?" Hermione asked with a small frown.
*I hope so! Just think of the carnage! I love carnage!* Tromluí exclaimed in gleeful anticipation.
Severus sighed. "Carnage after graduation unless their lives are in actual danger."
Tromluí pouted. *So boring!*
"Come, I think it's time we had a little quality bonding time sans pups," Sanguini suggested, his feathered crest rising with suggestive sexiness.
Hermione beamed immediately, looped her arms between Sanguini and Severus as Tromluí's tail wrapped snugly around her waist.
CRACK!
They were gone.
A/N: This was supposed to be a Christmas story, but I got a little bit distracted. And had a slight case of post-Christmas coma. Thank Dragon and the Rose for keeping most of the people alive if you like that kind of thing.
Happy Almost New Year!
Side note: This document was titled "Drabbles Dec 2023 -5". This is a 13k drabble. Sigh. I fail at life. Have a haiku.
Christmas is over.
New Years is almost here, now.
Fear the fire crackers.
No dead bodies here.
Pettigrew rat does not count.
He was eaten fast.
Okay, that was two haikus. You're welcome!