Ten

Seventeen Months Later

Hermione opened a sleepy eye and watched as a ray of sunshine sneaked through the curtains. The summer sun looked tempting, but it felt much too early to get up, so she snuggled up to the man next to her and fell asleep again.

The next time she woke up, the delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee was wafting through her cottage. After a detour to the bathroom, she followed her nose into the kitchen to find Severus, dressed in nothing but black briefs, making toast. She looked at his back and his arse. It was a very nice back. And a very nice arse.

He seemed to have noticed her ogling him as he turned around and smiled. Hermione padded over and gave him a peck on the cheek.

'Morning, sleepyhead,' he said, passing her a steaming mug of coffee.

'Thank you.' She took her mug over to the table, on which butter, jam, cheese and some fruit were already waiting, whilst Severus brought over the toast. Neither of them was much of a morning person, which meant blissful silence at breakfast.

'I had almost forgotten how lovely the first week of the school holidays is,' Severus remarked.

So much for blissful silence. 'Do you regret taking up Minerva's offer?'

'No. I like teaching Potions, and Horace is much happier now that he's retired. And—' he hesitated, '—I have nice colleagues. One in particular.'

Hermione beamed at him. 'So do I.'

'Ready for the big day?' Severus asked.

Hermione nearly dropped the cherry she was nibbling. 'Hm,' she replied.

'We don't have to do this. I don't mind waiting a bit longer.'

'No. We've waited long enough. It's time.'

'If you're sure.'

Was there a tad of anxiety in his voice? Hermione snaffled the last cherry before she said, 'Yes.'

*****

It wasn't too warm outside; a lazy wind was chasing bits of blue and grey across the sky, occasionally interrupted by a few rays of sunshine or a few drops of rain. In short, it was a typical Scottish summer day, and the garden seemed like the perfect spot for their plans.

Hermione made sure she had enough space on all sides. One last look at Severus, who nodded reassuringly, and then she cast the spell.

She closed her eyes as an odd sensation swept through her body. When she opened them again, she found herself much closer to the ground. She'd never seen as clearly before. Every single blade of grass was in sharp focus as it was stirred by the wind.

Hermione checked, legs: two. They felt a bit shortish, and her centre of gravity seemed to have shifted somewhat. Neck: short, and as it turned out, extremely nimble. Definitely not an otter, then. Arms: there. Also two; she moved them experimentally and was propelled a few feet into the air before she landed harshly on her feet again, which proved to be quite useful as she could dig her toes, no claws, into the ground to prevent from keeling over.

Her heart had started to race. It couldn't be. She hated flying.

Carefully, she moved her arms – wings? – again. The result was the same; only this time, she managed to land a bit more softly.

Her heart still racing, Hermione sat quite still in the middle of the lawn, trying to come to terms with the fact that she had turned into a bloody bird. She swivelled her head around – really useful that neck – and looked at Severus. She could see every detail of his face: his dark eyes, his aquiline nose, the strand of black hair that the wind had blown across his face, even the tiny lines around his eyes. He held out an arm.

Hermione considered her options. She could transform back. No need to leave the safe ground beneath her feet.

Or she could learn to use her wings and find out whether flying as a bird was more fun than on a broomstick. She flapped her wings once, twice and then took off – no clinging to a piece of wood, desperately trying to keep her balance. Instead, the air was carrying her; the wind was her friend propelling her forward. She soared once around the garden before she landed on Severus' outstretched arm.

He smiled. 'Hello, there. You're a beautiful owl.'

'Hoot!'

Severus laughed. 'Yes, dear.'

Hermione nibbled his ear affectionately and then took off again for one more round through the garden. This time, she landed smoothly on the garden wall. She hopped down to the ground and transformed back.

Severus came over. 'Congratulations on your first successful Animagus transformation,' he said, hugging her.

'Thank you.' Hermione leant into his embrace. 'The form is a bit of a surprise. I was so sure I'd be an otter.'

'Yes, most Animagi turn into the form their Patronus takes, but some don't. Usually, those who learn to master the spell a bit later in life.'

A mischievous glint appeared in Severus' eyes. 'You do realise that the possibilities are endless, don't you? Next year, we'll be able to sneak out behind Minerva's back any time we like.'

'Now, there's something to look forward to,' Hermione replied with a laugh. 'But first, we've got a couple more weeks of summer holidays left – all ours. I don't know about you, but magic can be so exhausting. I think I need a nap.' She winked at Severus as she took his hand, leading him back to the cottage.

'I can think of a few very relaxing activities,' he purred into her ear as he followed her.

*Fin*

Author's Notes

This was originally written as a gift for Sempraseverus during the sshg exchange 2012 on livejournal.

Many thanks to my wonderful beta Melusin and my equally wonderful alpha readers Chivalric, Gingertart and Karelia.

A few additional notes:

1. This story was also inspired by Sempraseverus' gorgeous artwork Transfiguration Blues.

2. I found the information on how to treat an injured wild bird here:

http://britishwildlifehelpline.com/first_aid_for_birds.html

3. There is an Inuit legend that is called The Owl and the Raven; it has nothing to do with my tale, but it is a lovely story.

4. And finally, (and because I love trivia) the South Devon Railway used to have types of locomotives that were called Owl and Raven respectively.