Chapter Thirty-Nine: High Magic

(1) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of the brilliant J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.

(2) Thank you to all the readers who have stayed with me throughout the writing of this tale. I do appreciate you putting up with the long lengths of time between updates. The good news is that I am now finally Dr. Perry.

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The blessings of the Goddess and Consort had been granted. Severus and Hermione were soul bound. Thus, once the rituals had been observed, the couple made their farewells from those present and returned to the Manor.

There, they were greeted by all the elves who served in the house and the grounds. Each and every elf was formally presented to their new mistress by a beaming Mimsy, the matriarch of the line of elves that served the Manor in all things. Hermione had Tansy appointed as her lady's maid, Mimsy had an assistant head house-elf due to her age, a down-stairs house-elf, a chamber house-elf, three laundry house-elves, a nursery house-elf in training, two that worked solely in the kitchen, a scullery house-elf, a butler house-elf, and three footmen house-elves, not to mention that there were six that worked the grounds, and another two dozen or more small house-elves of all ages, apparently learning from their parents. She glanced quickly around to find her own Tansy. She knew Tansy would quietly teach her all that she needed to know about the day to day running of the Manor, especially with regards to the interaction with so many elves.

It only then dawned on Hermione that she had taken on the most traditional of pureblood households for her own. She had almost the same number, if not more, house-elves as Malfoy Manor! The irony was enough to choke on, and she had to do her best not to burst into inappropriate and demented laughter when she caught Severus' eye. She supposed he too was finding it rather amusing for he could not have forgotten her attempts with S.P.E.W. At Hogwarts, she was known as "the leaver of hats" and "the champion of house-elf freedom". And yet, now, she was taking on an army of them.

Nonetheless, she did her best to be gracious. She knew they were bound to the property; this was their home. She could not throw them out just because she still found the idea of such deep bondage to people and places distasteful. She had read enough to know that elves felt as though they were responsible for their masters, their homes. One book had even suggested that elves preferred working for difficult families, for their needs were greater. Once they were bound to a home, to a family, they took them on forever. It was as though the elves adopted the family. The more dysfunctional, the more in need the family was, the more useful the elves felt, for that proved that they were essential to the well-being of their family. It was a logic that seemed flawed, but she had to accept it. Trying to pay elves was akin to trying to pay parents for bringing up their difficult children or wards. The children were not supposed to keep thanking their parents for doing only what parents were duty bound to do.

So, Hermione greeted the elves with a smile, and finally, once a toast had been drunk to the master and his new mistress, she stepped forward and spoke about how glad she was to have such a wonderful family of elves to take care of her. She promised to be a good mistress. This was met by cheering, and then, Severus dismissed them all.

Finally, Hermione and Severus were alone. They were bound, soul bound, and alone.

Hermione smiled shyly at Severus. She had dreamed about being with him for months. She had yearned for him, and she could not forget that it was at her behest that they had come to this point. But suddenly, she felt shy and awkward. She was only nineteen, and despite all that she had been through with the war and its aftermath, she was a virgin.

She could feel the intensity of her desire working through her like a pulse in her blood. She wanted him, but somehow, on today of all days, she was not ready to make the first move.

Severus himself was filled with elation and fear. He was soul bound to this lovely and talented witch. He had won the heart of the woman who he knew in his heart loved him as well. But he worried, too. He had never had to expose himself so meaningfully before; he had never to not only give of his body, that was easy enough to do, but he had to give truly of himself, his soul and express his true feelings, through his body and perform High Magic, for that was his intent. But she was an innocent, and he suddenly felt himself to be a being defiled, consumed by the Darkness that he knew dwelt so strongly in his soul no matter what acts of penance he had performed his whole life. And yet, despite his unworthiness, even, perhaps in spite of his Darkness, he was adamant that they would perform High Magic. That way, his life would be tied to hers. If she was in danger, he would know it and would be able to come to her aid in an instant. There were no wards strong enough to keep apart those who had performed High Magic at their coming together. If she needed him, nothing could keep him from reaching her except death.

There was no point lying to himself at this moment. He had to be honest. Severus had another more insidious fear, too. He knew that their binding had broken the Dark Veela curse. To all intents and purposes, they had found and demonstrated their true love for each other. Now all that remained to be performed was the physical union, the manifestation of their feelings for each other. And so he worried that the Veela curse would strike him as he attempted to have sex to her. But he also knew that he could not put off their joining any longer. He wanted her.

Taking a deep breath, he moved until he was standing before his beloved. He smiled as gently as he was able and extended his hand to her. "Hermione," he said softly.

She returned his smile tremulously and took his hand.

"Would you like see our room?" he asked.

She nodded with a blush. "Unless it is too early?"

"No, it's not too early," said Severus with a slight smirk in understanding that she, too, was nervous. Overcome with feeling, he tightened his grip on her hand and added, "It could never be too early."

Hermione's answering smile was more confident. This, her ardent lover she knew how to deal with. "Oh, Severus." Then, with her confidence growing, she confessed, "I've been dreaming about being with you since the first time we danced."

Severus' eyes darkened even further with growing passion. "That long?" he asked as he began to walk out of the drawing room.

She grinned wryly as she walked with him, still holding his hand. "It was the first time I think I really understood that you were a man. I mean, I did figure it out when I went out for tea with you and Cissy that very first time. But I don't think it really struck me until I was in your arms. Then, after we danced, it was all I could think of. Suddenly, you went from being a teacher to being a man. The change was a bit traumatic to say the least. The flirting that followed our dance didn't help."

Severus smirked. Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed her fingers tenderly. "And that was the first time I actually entertained the notion of you as a possible partner. Who would have imagined then that we would be here today, soul bound?"

"Not me," said Hermione laughing. "I can't believe how much life has changed in the months following the end of the war. It is as if I've got a whole new life."

Their conversation dwindled as they climbed the stairs that led to the master chambers. When they reached the threshold, Severus swept Hermione into his arms and carried her across the floor.

Hermione giggled at his romantic gesture, but her laughter faded at the intensity of his gaze as he gently laid her down on the massive four-poster bed. The moment seemed to stretch for aeons until with a deep sigh Severus followed her down onto the bed. Their lips met in a passionate exchange of love and devotion. They had both been alone for so long. Now, finally, there was nothing to keep them apart.

Hermione was filled with a sense of wonder at the gentleness woven into the passion of Severus' kiss. Her heart filled with love for her soul mate, and she tried to show him how much he meant to her as her hands caressed his shoulders and back.

She sighed as his hands began to wander over her torso. Wanting to help him disrobe her, Hermione pushed herself to a seated position; then, with a lingering kiss, she stood up so that she could begin to unwrap the stola.

Severus stood up too and helped her remove the stola with alacrity. Then, reverently, he crouched on the floor and carefully bunched up the raw silk under tunic so that, as he stood up, the fabric rose with him.

Hermione couldn't suppress the giggle that burst free. She felt like a Christmas present being unwrapped.

Severus quirked his eyebrow at her, but seeing her shining eyes, he continued with his task. Soon, the silk was over her shoulders, and he had completely disrobed her.

Hermione felt a moment's panic because of the scars that marred her body, but the intensity and desire that was so obvious on her lover's face calmed her fears. She could see that she was beautiful in his eyes. All her former insecurities vanished in the face of his obvious need.

As the garment slithered away, discarded from Severus' hand so that he could take in the beauty before him, Hermione did her best to not instinctively cover herself. She knew she had some scars, but she also knew that Severus was the one of the few people who would truly understand what they signified. She forced herself to stand still while he gazed at her.

Severus had to forcibly swallow the lump in his throat. She was so lovely, and she was his. "Goddess," he intoned emotionally.

Then, kneeling before her, he took her hands and held them within his own. It was time to invoke High Magic. The words of each pledge of one's magical self to one's spouse was unique; only the sentiments expressed mingled with the act of love making made them binding. "Hermione, I am yours now, completely, for all time. My magic is yours, to protect, comfort and love. If ever you have need, a thought will bring me to you." He finished with tender kisses to her palms before swiftly pulling out his wand to bind their left hands together with magic. "Nos unum semus, nostril magicae est unum, veniam ad vocationis vestrae, respondeo dicendum tua, ego vester sum."

As he finished intoning the invocation, a magical cord of gold, blue and green began to wind itself around her. Hermione realised that it was his pledge, his magic binding itself to her. The feelings of love, devotion and safety that enveloped her were shattering.

All of Hermione's virginal insecurities and worries vanished in the face of this manifestation of his love for her. She opened her arms and welcomed Severus into her embrace. He responded with an even more impassioned kiss that seemed to melt her very bones. The feeling of his large hands caressing her body was driving her mindless with need. Desperate, she began to tug at his robes.

It was as if a switch had been flipped. The careful, and slightly tentative, gentlemanly suitor was gone, and in his place was a bold and sure lover. Severus' caresses turned more knowing, his hands skilled with carnal knowledge as they traced over her body, heightening her desire.

"Yes, Severus, please," she whispered.

Her dark lover's eyes blazed with triumph. With a last, almost brutal, kiss, Severus left her embrace to quickly strip off his own robes. Then, naked, gorgeous and proud, he returned to her.

They both sighed as naked flesh met naked flesh. With a gentle nudge he pushed her so that she was sitting on the bed. He joined her, and as he drew her to lie down, they embraced, touching from shoulder to thigh to knee. The feeling of so much skin on skin contact was almost transcendent. Hermione moaned as his hands stroked her heated skin, sliding beneath her bottom as he rolled over so that she was gently positioned under him.

She arched her back, bringing her straining nipples to come into contact with his almost hairless chest. This pushed his engorged flesh even more firmly against her molten core. "Severus, please," she whispered. "I need you, now."

"All in due time," he purred.

She squirmed, desperate to have him where she needed him. She had lost all sense of insecurity; it was as though Severus' obvious adoration had altered her into a more sensual being.

Hermione's obvious desire and responsiveness to his ministrations released the last of Severus' doubts and fears. Now, he felt in control of both his emotions and actions. With the greatest of devotion and passion, he proceeded to explore his lover with slow, meticulous devotion to her until she was a mindless puddle of sensation. His lips trailed kisses over her face before dipping down to slowly suckle her now hard and desperately pointy nipples. As he took more and more of her flesh into his mouth, Hermione groaned with desire. Feeding on her felt and tasted exquisite. Her hands tangled in his slick locks as he finally bit into her turgid flesh.

At her nearly frantic pulling of his hair, he raised his head from his feasting to kiss her deeply for long moments. Then, he began to work his way down her body, stopping to kiss and explore once again every inch of her torso. He could not get his head around the fact that she was finally his. Soon, he was raining kisses onto her upper thighs until she sighed and allowed them to fall open. He dipped his head and used his tongue to trace the very edges of her moist lips, tasting her for the first time. As she mewled in response, he allowed himself to settle more comfortably between her thighs and pleasure her in earnest.

Severus had surmised that she would be responsive, but her sheer acceptance of him, of his ministrations, filled him with wonder. No woman had ever wanted him as she did. No woman had looked upon him with such passion, such trust, such devotion. He felt the armor around his heart shattering even as his control broke and he pounded into her with the flat of his tongue. He couldn't wait to penetrate her with his cock, but he knew that he was a big man. He wanted her to be completely ready for him. He could not bear the thought of causing her more pain than was necessary.

Hermione was long past thinking of pain or the loss of her virginity. Now, she was a mindless creature of the senses; all that mattered was what Severus was doing to her. She was on the very edge; she could hardly draw breath as with a final thrust of his talented tongue and a firm nudge with his oh-so-perfect nose, Severus sent her hurtling into a mind-numbing orgasm. She saw stars and nearly blacked out as she exploded under his onslaught.

Severus watched in amazement as Hermione came apart under him. Kissing her trembling thighs, he swiftly pulled himself up to pepper her face with kisses as he lodged his erection at the entrance of her dripping centre and pushed himself firmly inside.

Hermione's eyes widened at the forceful intrusion, but she was still coming down from her amazing high, and she was too dazed to worry about what was happening. Thus, it was only when he pushed through her hymen and breached her completely that she responded to his invasion.

But Severus had done his preparation well. A brief moment of discomfort, soon eclipsed by the feeling of immense fullness, was all that she had to endure. Soon, she was moaning and gasping as he began to thrust gently within her.

The feeling of him moving within her was incredible, and soon she was doing her best to match his pace as best she could. Her untutored but obvious show of passion was all that he needed to begin moving inside of her in earnest. Their passion took them both over as they began climbing higher and higher, Severus slamming himself inside of her as if he meant to mark her as his for all time. Hermione, already sensitised, could not take this brutal possession. Her highly responsive state pushed her towards yet another orgasm that triggered Severus' own until they shattered in unison before drifting gently back to awareness.

As he came back to himself, he rolled aside and pulled her to him so that she was cradled against his chest. He was too overwhelmed to speak, and he could only hold her close as he tried to come to terms with what they had shared. In all his years, he had never felt anything more powerful.

Hermione, although equally undone by the amazing manifestations of their love that had resulted over the course of the day, was not lost for words. Snuggling even closer to her beloved, she traced her hand along his jaw and turned his face so that her eyes met his. Seriously, as though she realised that she needed to say these words with all solemnity, she said, "Severus, I love you."

"Hermione" was all he could whisper back, but he had to say it to break the curse. He took a deep breath, then murmured, "I love you, too." He was still reeling from his performance of High Magic. He was still coming to grips with the fact that his pledge to protect her had been accepted by his magical core to the degree that it had. But even with his inadequate response to her clear statement, he knew she would understand. She always seemed to understand. Not sure if the strong waves of love he was feeling were real, he clung to her.

As Hermione's words penetrated his deepest consciousness, Severus felt the strangest sensation taking over his body. He felt energy pulsing through him as he tried to catch his breath. Gasping, he felt power like never before rushing through his blood, his bones, his every nerve ending. He was caught up in the rapture of sensation. He was bathed in a bright white light as his body arched with a magically induced surge that felt very much like another orgasm.

Hermione was taken aback. She did not know what was happening, but as his arms tightened around her, she held on to him, whispering over and over again, "I love you Severus. I love you." It was as if she knew instinctively that this was what was required of her. Just as the surge of power had begun, it ebbed away, leaving Severus clutching Hermione like the lifeline she was. Finally, regaining himself, he said with his sardonic smirk tremulous on his face, "I think that definitely means I love you, too."

Hermione smiled. It looked odd to see her always in control lover so unsteady. His smirk had been so young and innocent, something she knew he had not been since he was a very young child. Her Severus had, after all, been forced to grow up far too soon. But at this very minute he was gorgeous, and that man, the man in her arms, her lover and the one she'd share a lifetime with, smiled at her with a radiance she'd never expected.

Seeing the tender expression in her eyes, Severus nuzzled his beloved's wildly tangled hair and slowly began to speak. It was time for her to learn of the Dark Veela curse and his magical heritage. "There is something I've neglected to tell you, and for good reason, which I hope you'll understand." He paused. "I'm a Veela, through my mother's lineage. Hermione, the curse on my family has now been lifted. The power you saw was that of the Veela blood finally being allowed full reign to flow through my veins."

She sat up at his pronouncement. "You're a Veela? But how? I thought....?" she stammered in shock, wondering what it now meant for them. "When, but you're... you've got black hair."

"Not all Veela are blond," he said with a soft laugh. "Hear me out, please."

She nodded her head.

Severus sighed and adjusted his position so that he could look into her eyes. Thankfully, Hermione settled down again and listened to him attentively without interruption. Finally, when he had finished his narration of how he had learned of the curse in his dying moments and how his mother had come to him, he said, "The curse can only be broken by true love – both given and received."

"You were cursed?" she asked in disbelief. "But I didn't feel it – what you described – I never felt that way." She turned her head, searching her thoughts for any indication of what he called a repulsive aura. "I only saw you as acerbic and waspish as a child, but I... I was never repelled. I tried so hard as a child to gain your approval, to..." She looked at him. "But I always respected you. And this summer I was not repulsed by you – I was drawn to you."

He smiled at her confession, even though her words confused him. "You never felt the repulsion of the curse?" he asked, completely in awe of the statement. It suddenly dawned on him, she'd still loved him even when the curse had exerted itself on him to try and push her away, and it explained why she had never faltered in her love for him. No wonder the curse hadn't affected her – she, my Hermione, could look past a person's exterior and see the good in them, as the saying went. She'd seen him, his real self.

"Well, not that I was in love with you as a student or had an infatuation then, but I – no, I was never repulsed by you. Hurt on occasion, but I loved how you inspired me to excel, to do my best in your lessons, try my hardest to learn what you taught... I wanted...," she looked him in the eyes, "I always thought you were a remarkable wizard, and I could see you – I thought you'd been hurt, or acted the way you did to prevent the girls in school from, you know, throwing themselves at you. Then when I found out you were Dumbledore's Death Eater spy, I assumed it was part of your role to distance yourself, to protect us all from being dragged before You-Know-Who."

She was so remarkable. With her kindness, her very nature, she'd seen through the curse even when she'd been a student. "I admit, yes, you are right on both accounts. My position as teacher and the fact that the Dark Mark had never faded meant that I knew the Dark Lord would return one day. And so I forced upon myself a way of keeping the students at a distance. If I was hated by anyone not in Slytherin, then I could never be used to lure away a student from the school. Besides which, when I began teaching, I was the youngest on staff. It helped to deal with the occasional infatuation, especially from students who thought they could gain something from me. But the truth is, most reviled me, or feared me."

"But what does this, your curse having been broken, mean for us?" Hermione asked, curious. The only Veelas she knew were Fleur Weasley and her sister Gabrielle. She was suddenly reminded of the ones they had seen at the World Quidditch Cup and how their faces morphed when they'd been angry.

"Nothing between us will change. I'm still the same man you know," he said reassuringly. He sighed softly before drawing her up to kiss her tenderly on the lips. "But it does mean that when they are born, our children will have some Veela blood."

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A/N: Love it or hate it, do let me know. Reviews are always warmly appreciated.