Fifteen
Chapter 16 of 22
lapitaSeven years after the death of Dumbledore, Hermione finally returns to Hogwarts. What will she find?
ReviewedMany thanks to my beta, Soul Bound.
A cluster of Ravenclaw students surged around Hermione, anxious to get to the Great Hall to have their dinner; their unconscious laughter and chatter filling the dark corridor with warmth and life. As Hermione carefully watched the sea of faces flow past her, she felt a sense of satisfaction at knowing her conclusions were correct. After associating Hogwarts houses with the principles of ancient Southern magic at Halloween, the young witch had used her isolation over the last few days to closely observe, in the manner of an initiate, the students and professors.
She now knew for certain that the Sorting Hat was steeped in Southern magic and sorted the students into the houses that best matched their primary elemental make ups. Hermione tried to recall the Sorting Hat, but all she could remember after this length of time was it being dirty, tatty and very old. It was perhaps as old as Hogwarts, which would explain what it was able to do. So when her eyes started to tire from the amount of reading she was doing, Hermione wandered around the corridors, quietly observing everyone. Inevitably, students with primarily a water make up were in Slytherin; students with mostly fire were in Gryffindor; students with earth were in Hufflepuff, and students with air were in Ravenclaw. It got so that Hermione could look at the students and know which house they were in without needing to look at their robes or ties for confirmation.
She also spent time in the staff room watching the professors from under her broad-brimmed witch's hat. This was even more spectacular. Somehow, despite the fact that the witches and wizards had no idea they were following deep magical principles, the heads of each house positively exuded their element in the strongest conceivably way. It made Hermione wonder how Hogwarts chose its heads of house and whether the Sorting Hat was still somehow involved in the process. Of course, she knew from the attack in the lane that Snape was powerfully water, but she quickly discovered that Professor Flitwick was a fresh, cool breeze that had purity and logic and that Professor Sprout was dark, richly fertile soil that nourished and reproduced. And when McGonagall had stopped by yesterday to have a chat, Hermione had trouble concentrating on what she was saying. It was difficult observing somebody in this manner while still trying to maintain a coherent conversation. McGonagall must have picked up on her dreaminess, as the professor reminded her kindly not to wear herself out. But what Hermione was seeing in the older witch was a crackling fire with a lot of warmth and energy. She knew McGonagall was now only nominally head of Gryffindor and that Harry had really stepped into the role, even if it was in an unofficial capacity. So when Harry came into the staff room to pick up some papers he'd forgotten to take to class, Hermione watched him carefully and was blown away by the inferno of heat that blasted out from him. He was no ordinary fire...he was an out of control forest fire with flames leaping hundreds of feet into the air. The young woman found the intensity of Harry's element disturbing.
Hermione followed the chatting students for a bit, then turned off to go down the corridor that led to the dungeons and to the Potions classroom. The corridor soon became dark, occasionally lit by carefully placed flames, and her footsteps echoed loudly. Tonight was the full moon and the feast of the Nine Nights, and this morning Snape had included a note in her food basket saying for her to meet him in the Potions classroom at dinnertime.
Hermione felt strange walking down the empty corridors to the dungeons again. It wasn't the sort of place she had felt inclined to wander around, so she hadn't been down here since she was a student. She remembered the many years of traipsing down here for Potions with Harry and Ron. They were the most brutal but most memorable classes she had taken at Hogwarts, and Snape had been the hardest, most exacting taskmaster. The Potions classroom door was firmly shut when she got to it, and Hermione hesitated before knocking. Seven years of student instincts told her to run while she still could, but she firmly squashed them down and was lifting her hand to knock when the door swung open.
'Hello?' Hermione peered inside and saw Snape sitting at his desk, his quill moving furiously across a parchment. The classroom looked exactly like it had when she was a student, dimly lit with odd things in glass jars. How strange, thought Hermione, glancing about. All the things that had happened to her, all the changes she had been through, and yet his classroom was still the same. The young witch was taken right back to her first Potion's class and how Snape came striding in, saying, 'There will be no foolish wand waving in my class...' It all made much more sense now.
'Miss Granger,' Snape acknowledged neutrally, putting down his quill and standing up. 'If you can follow me.'
He swept down from his desk smoothly and moved past her with a flick of his robe and out into the corridor. Hermione rapidly turned, half-jogging to keep up with Snape who was charging full flight down the corridor, his robes billowing out behind him. By the time they had turned and twisted along many dark, damp smelling corridors, Hermione was completely lost. She did not recognize anything about these corridors, but knew she was deep within the bowels of Hogwarts. Abruptly Snape stopped. It was only Hermione fast reflexes that prevented her from slamming into him. It was strange to stop in the middle of a corridor, and it was only after staring right at it for a bit that she could even make out the door right in front of her. Snape simply pushed it open and walked in. Hermione hesitated, but resolutely followed him, and Snape firmly shut the door behind her. The room was cold, miserable and dusty with an empty fireplace and a battered, hole-ridden armchair in front of it. It smelt stale and unused. Hermione's heart sunk.
'Follow me,' repeated Snape as he strode across the room to another door.
Startled, Hermione followed silently and averted her eyes politely as Snape unwarded the next door, thinking it was strange that this door was warded and not the first. She understood in an instant once the door swung open and she had followed Snape through it. It was like walking into a wondrously warm room after being in bone chilling cold or like cuddling a hot water bottle on a cold night. As soon as the door was shut firmly behind her, Hermione knew that the intense pressure of Hogwarts magic had lifted. She felt dizzy with relief.
'Welcome, my lady, to my home on this auspicious night.' Snape leaned forward to press foreheads in the traditional greeting of friends, but somehow they both misjudged and bumped heads instead.
'May his presence bring your home peace and joy.' Hermione said the expected reply, smiling up at him.
Snape inclined his head and gestured her to come further in. Hermione glanced about Snape's spacious room and was interested to see he had set it out it in the clear Southern mountain style. As with all of Hogwarts rooms a large fireplace filled one wall, but instead of the customary two armchairs on either side, Snape had deep red rugs meant for sitting on and a low table for working on and eating from. The lack of furniture gave the room a feeling of space, and although it was uncluttered, it wasn't unlived in. There were cushions scattered around, a neatly folded rug, an overflowing bookcase and a book opened on the low table. The air smelt clean and clear. Hermione out of habit took off her boots before walking onto the thick rug next to the fireplace.
'Let me take your robes and your hat, my lady. This is the one place in Hogwarts where you do not need them.'
'Thank you, I can feel that. It's such a relief.' Hermione unbuttoned her robes slowly with her bandaged hand and handed them to him. Her shirt and trousers were the right weight for the warmth of the room.
'And your hat, my lady?' Snape said, carefully folding her robes over his arm.
Oh, dear, her hair, remembered Hermione. She hadn't thought about her hair in days. Everyday, she promised herself she would do more than run a cursory sweep of the hairbrush over it and really deal with the knots. But every day she happily saw her hat and plonked it on her head instead. Reluctantly, Hermione handed over her hat. She could hardly sit here in her shirt and trousers and still keep her hat on.
'Have a seat, my lady. I will just put these away.' Snape turned and went through another door shutting it behind him. He must have also shed his robes, as he returned with his shirtsleeves rolled up and his hair pulled back. So this is Snape relaxing, thought Hermione, sitting down easily on the thick rug in front of the fire, running her fingers hastily through her hair, trying to get it to lay flat.
'Now, my lady, first off, would you like a drink?' Snape offered politely.
'That would be nice.' Hermione felt relaxed for the first time at Hogwarts and nestled deeper into the soft rug. The fire was throwing out a lot of heat, and also because she was able to, she rolled up her sleeves.
Snape moved through another door, but this time left it open, letting Hermione see the kitchen.
Hermione smelt a beautiful aroma...surely not? 'Is that coffee, my friend?' she asked excitedly.
'Yes, my lady, it is.'
'How did you manage to get that? I thought you said it was impossible to get hold of here?' Hermione stood up enthusiastically and moved over to the kitchen. It was compact but highly organized, and Snape moved easily in it.
'I thought tonight was worth the effort.' He glance over at her.
'Wonderful. It's an incredible place you have here. I find it hard to believe that I am still in Hogwarts,' she said, leaning against the door jam.
'It has done me well over the years. I am most at ease here.' He placed the coffeepot and two small, Southern-style coffee cups on a tray. 'Shall we?'
Hermione followed him back and sat down, amazed at how easily her body moved and how clear her thinking was. 'I can't believe I am the same person who stepped through that door.'
Snape sat down cross-legged effortlessly and poured the coffee. Hermione almost drooled at the smell.
'The weight of the magic can get oppressive. I have found its intensity creeps up the longer I am in it, despite the clothes.' He passed her a cup and smiled bemusedly at the look on her face.
Hermione felt compelled to defend her enthusiasm. 'I am bound to be eager, my friend, when my entire liquid intake since I have been here has been the water you sent up, a daily cup of grossly over-sugared tea and one butterbeer. My last sip of coffee seems a lifetime ago.' She looked up at him, remembering the attack. 'And it nearly was.' Hermione took a sip and allowed it to sit in her mouth so that she could truly savor the taste before swallowing. 'Good,' she said with great satisfaction, appreciating the effort and thought Snape had put into this evening.
Hermione looked up again at Snape, who gave a small smile in return. 'I feel embarrassed, my friend; I shamefully neglected to thank you the other evening for the delicious food that you send to me. The pickles especially are superb. I've never tasted anything like it.'
Snape shrugged his shoulders and fiddled with the small coffee cup in front of him, his tattoo dark against his translucently white skin. 'I have always enjoyed preparing food. I find it relaxing. But as with most people, it is hard to keep inspired when cooking for only myself for all this time' He took a sip of coffee and looked at her sideways with a glint to his eyes. 'I heard about Mr. Potter.'
Startled, Hermione put down her cup. 'How do you know?'
Snape merely raised his eyebrows at her.
Of course he would know, thought Hermione. He had been a bloody spy for decades. He would know everything that happened in Hogwarts. 'Yeah, well, you were right, my friend. Harry wasn't pleased when he saw us leave the Ball together and thought he was within his rights to bail me up about it.' Snape continued to look steadily at her, so Hermione hotly continued. 'Nobody talks to me like that. Even my parents never did. So I basically told him to butt out of my business, that under no circumstances do I go around dictating to him who he should and should not associate with, and that he should at least afford the same respect to me.' Hermione sighed and tried running her hand through her hair, but only got a couple of inches before it snagged on a knot. 'I didn't like it. We patched it up again and got around it by not talking about you when we had tea again today,' she said, finally untangling her fingers from her hair. 'He absolutely hates you.'
'I have noticed,' Snape replied dryly before taking another sip.
'No, I mean it's different from when I was at school with him. He's grown fanatical with it, and it's hard to relate it back to the reality of who you are.'
'What do you mean?' asked Snape carefully, his brow furrowed.
Oops, thought Hermione, mentally kicking herself. Twisting the warm, deep pile rug through her fingers nervously, she explained, 'It's like if I didn't know you, my friend, how I know you now and only thought about the Professor Snape I knew at school...' Hermione looked guiltily up at Snape, who was still listening intently ' ...who wasn't very nice and perhaps from certain angles acted in morally ambiguous ways, you still shouldn't warrant the intensity of hate Harry is projecting at you. It doesn't make a lot of sense.'
'Mr. Potter has not made my life easy here,' the wizard said neutrally.
'Harry is a master at manipulating other people's emotions...to such an extent even powerful witches and wizards are unaware of it. He spends a great deal of time and energy whipping them up into a frenzy of hate towards you.'
Snape looked at her closely and spoke in even tones. 'While I would like to believe it is nothing more than a personality clash, I do think you could be right. It is the Headmistress's strength that prevents Mr. Potter from hounding me from Hogwarts, and he refuses to believe Professor Dumbledore's testament despite the fact that the Ministry verified it.' He stopped and became utterly still, then added quietly, 'I have often wondered whether Mr. Potter has transferred his animosity and frustration from the Dark Lord onto me.'
Hermione was surprised at the neutrality of Snape's words and at how accurate and objective Snape's observations were. She finished her coffee, feeling the caffeine course through her body. Unable to keep still, she rubbed her hands into the soft, warm carpet under the table. 'That sounds completely right to me, my friend. Hey, this rug is warm.'
Snape blinked at the sudden non segue and then snorted in amusement, leaning back comfortably on a cushion. 'I have underground heating. It helps when one carries on the tradition of sitting on the floor when one is at the bottom of an ancient castle in the middle of Scotland.'
'Wow.'
'It was quite simple to set up. Hogwarts sits over an ancient spring, so there is always ample water.'
'It's nice, rather like getting into a bed with an electric blanket.' Feeling guilty that she had been so scattered and had interrupted the topic of conversation, Hermione said, 'Oh, and another thing about Harry. Over the last couple of days, I've been watching him, my friend. You know... really watching.' Hermione saw the blank look on Snape's face and tried to clarify what she meant. 'You know, how an initiate sees people.'
'Really?' Snape sat up, startled. 'Do you think that was wise?'
'Probably not,' admitted Hermione with a shrug. 'But there is only a certain number of hours in a day I can read effectively, and anyway, whenever I am by myself, I like watching people, and it really is just an extension of that.'
'Hmmm,' replied Snape unsurely, and he leaned across to pour her another coffee.
'I'm going to be up all night if I drink this,' Hermione protested feebly before grinning and picking it up to take a sip. 'Do you know that the Sorting Hat is associated with Southern magic?'
Snape shook his head, his eyes full of curiosity.
'It sorts students into the house that best matches their primary elemental make up.'
'Is that in the same way you and yours saw the Death Eaters in the lane?'
'Yes, exactly. So all your precious Slytherins are made up primarily of water, Gryffindor is fire, Ravenclaw is air and Hufflepuff is earth. And what else is interesting is that the professors who are chosen to be heads of each house are the ones who project their element most strongly. You, my friend, emanate water the most in Hogwarts, so it's no surprise at all that you are Slytherin's head of house. Now because Harry is for all intents and purposes the head of Gryffindor, I also looked at him.'
Snape nodded in agreement to that statement.
'He was the most shocking. He is an inferno of heat, like an out of control forest fire. But it was wrong in its intensity.'
'Why?'
'I couldn't work it out straight away, but I now think it's because everyone is made up primarily of one element, but of course there are other elements as well. Like you are spring water. You are strongly water, but there is an earth element in you. In the same way spring water comes up through the ground and they interact with each other. That's natural and normal. But with Harry, I couldn't detect any other element, which is just bizarre. He is burning too hot and too intensely...it's wrong.'
Snape drummed his fingers on the table. 'That is interesting because I heard when Mr. Potter went up to be sorted in his first year, the Sorting Hat wanted to put him in Slytherin.'
Hermione nodded, no longer surprised Snape knew about that. 'I heard about that too. So there must have been a strong water element in him for the Sorting Hat to want him to go in Slytherin. And yet I cannot detect anything other than fire in him. It's very strange.'
They both sat there in silence, mulling everything over, Hermione fiddling with a frayed bit of bandage on her hand.
Snape looked up at her sharply. 'Can people change their elemental make up, my lady?'
That was an interesting question, thought Hermione, and she shook her head. 'No, not as far as I know. It can alter, but it's always there in essence. That is what is so strange about Harry; I cannot detect any other element.'
'Can it be suppressed?' he pressed her.
Hermione had not thought about applying these principles to Harry. 'Yes, it's really a consummate way of altering one's elemental make up...but it is extremely rare.'
'What circumstances need to occur in order for a person to suppress part of his or her elemental make up?' Snape added deferentially. 'These are areas I do not know about, my lady. I pray I am not being too bold asking about them.'
Hermione waved her hand dismissively. 'Don't worry, my friend. I'm interested in your thoughts and am happy to answer your questions. These are areas most people don't know about, even the very learned.'
Snape dipped his head in acknowledgement of the trust she was placing in him.
Hermione thought carefully about how to explain the principles clearly to Snape for moment. 'A person can't alter or suppress his or her elemental make up easily. To do so goes against one's very life force, which is constantly striving for balance. Of course there are variations within each case, but generally altering or suppressing an element occurs when something severe takes place in the person's life...but that in itself is not enough.' The witch looked at Snape, who was resting his elbows on the table, his chin in his white hands, absorbing every word she said with rapt attention. 'And it is always a tragedy...or what that person perceives as a tragedy...and somehow the person associates part of his or her elemental make up with that event. However, the body's a wonderful thing and always tries to seek balance within itself, and the person's elemental make up regains its symmetry. Then there's a trigger, which for the vast majority of people never even happens, but it can occur at any time. It's a time of high stress, and it's somehow linked with the first tragedy. The strength of the trigger often determines to what extent a person will alter their make up. This is all done unconsciously by the person, but usually their behavior becomes extreme. Whenever there's some change to a person's make up, the person's potential power is usually less than half of what it should be, and it can be damaging to them. But as I say, this is all highly unusual.' Hermione stopped and looked at Snape who, was stroking his chin contemplatively.
'I do believe this could all relate back to your first vision, my lady. How ingenious.'
'What do you mean?' asked Hermione, not understanding the wizard's chain of thought.
'In your first vision, Mr. Potter was petrified of the water, and he told you it took his mother from him.'
'Yes, that's right.' Then Hermione nodded, impressed with the perception of the wizard sitting opposite her. 'I see where you are going now, my friend. The tragic circumstance was Lord Voldemort killing Harry's mother. Harry associated his mother's death with the water element of Voldemort, which he had in abundance in himself. Yes, the circumstances in Harry's life have been extreme in anybody's books. If anyone could be a candidate, it would be Harry. I just never thought of Harry along these lines. And the trigger?'
'Dumbledore's death,' Snape said firmly.
'That sounds right to me. It could also explain the difference in him. Of course I've been furiously telling myself it's because we are now grown up and no longer are children. But I can now see there is a more fundamental change.' Hermione frowned. 'But for me not to sense any other element in him...but then Harry is one of the most powerful wizards I know, so no doubt he is able to suppress it with great strength.'
'You do realize, my lady, you said a person who suppresses part of their elemental make up works on less than half their potential power.'
'Dear mother of God!' exclaimed Hermione, thinking of the power that Harry emanated as it was.
'A full strength Mr. Potter. Yes, a disturbing thought indeed,' commented Snape.
Hermione nodded. The implications of this were huge.
'Now, my lady, I have something for you,' Snape said after draining his coffee cup. He picked up a brown parcel and handed it to her graciously. It was customary for an initiate to be given something when she visited a home for the ritual on the Nine Nights.
It was only afterwards that Hermione worked out what happened next. When she reached for the parcel, her rune tattoo must have brushed Snape's Dark Mark, and she was violently shoved forward. Hermione shrieked at the shock and found herself tipping over the edge of a wind swept cliff. The young witch flung her arms backwards, trying desperately to regain her balance. There was a huge body of metallic, grey water far below her, which stretched out to a hazy horizon. But Hermione's forward momentum was too much, and she tumbled forward so that she lost all contact with the crumbly earth. She couldn't work out what was going on, and all her senses were confounded with the wind roaring in her ears, her hair thrashing like sharp whips and the surreal feeling of moving through air. Hermione slammed into something hard, and air was hit brutally from her lungs. Dark water buried her. She was plunging downwards, forever downwards, her body screaming for air.
Hermione kicked out violently, praying she was going in the right direction. Suddenly, she burst through the surface, gasping for air, tasting the sweet, fresh water streaming down her face. She treaded water, panting with exhaustion. Darkness encompassed her, and the witch heard water sloshing rhythmically against something and echoing back. Slowly, huge, shadowy walls emerged as her eyes adjusted to the dimness, and she realized she was in an underground cavern. The water felt warm and silky on her skin as she gently moved her arms and legs to keep afloat.
The movement of the water quickened. Hermione bobbed up and down in the small swells, listening to the lapping waves pick up a staccato beat against the towering walls. She felt a swirling, sucking movement, and before she could even register it, the water enclosed over her face as she was pulled under. Hermione gulped in the water; it was foul, bitter and poisonous, not at all like the fresh water she had just tasted. Her mind drifted away.
Sucking, dragging, pulling. The murky water grabbed at her with tremendous strength, and Hermione was being tumbled over and over at a horrifying speed towards a towering wall of thick bedrock. As she got closer, she made out a black cave that she was being sucked towards; it stood out like violent gash on the wall. Around the cave's opening, there was a craggy outcrop, as if the earth itself was trying to close the wound up.
'You are mine now, circle lover.' An alien hiss penetrated her mind, and Hermione knew horror. It was Voldemort.
Hermione lunged desperately at the outcrop of rocks as they came within reach, ripping her fingernails painfully as she tried clawing the rough surface in an attempt to stop herself from being sucked into the cave.
There was a touch of his smell moments before she heard his rich sound. 'Reach for me.' Hermione brought her legs up, scraping them against the sharp rocks, and used them to lunge herself against the current. Her hands grabbed at his fur, but the current dragged her away. The water twisted up and around her, ensnaring her in its grip, pulling her towards the gaping hole again. The witch looked up and registered with a gasp that the cave wasn't a cave but was in a shape of a skull...a death mark skull...and it wasn't water that was pulling her in, but a tangle of snakes entwined tightly around her.
A sound came slowly, building in intensity until it was a deafening roar that permeated every level and penetrated every cell. A sharp, stabbing pain caused Hermione to look down. His huge tiger-mouth was clamped over her arm, and he was physically dragging her away from Voldemort. But the snakes held her firmly, suffocating her in their deathlike grip. Screaming pain ripped through her shoulder...she was being ripped apart. His teeth were sinking still deeper into her forearm when suddenly the snakes released her, catapulting her towards him. She swung her free arm over his broad shoulders, holding him close, feeling his wet fur on her cheek, exhausted. After a few powerful surges away from the gaping hole, he gently released his grip on her arm, and she felt his rough tongue licking the puncture wounds.
'I am here,' he reassured.
Her arms were encircled around his thick neck, and her legs gripped him tightly around his broad back. Hermione would never be dragged from him again. His body surged powerfully under her, taking them away from the poison, and the water became cleaner the further they moved away. He pulled her tighter so that they were one once more. He had a suppressed fury about him that she had never experienced before.
'Where are we?' Hermione questioned once she was able to form a conscious thought.
She felt his awareness move outwards, taking her with him, and they touched something familiar. It shrunk skittishly from their touch; they felt its anxiety rise and felt it try to erect pathetic barriers from them. Shh, they purred reassuringly. They would never go where they were not invited. They sent out pulses of tenderness and felt it gradually relax into them. They knew its power pulsated upwards from a deep, primordial source, which was clean and strong in its flavour. They moved with its rhythm and felt it embrace them. The familiarity of it overwhelmed the part that was Hermione...she couldn't work out why. But as they moved amongst it, they felt a taint of wrongness; a foreign awfulness that contrasted with its crisp, clear flavours. Something was draining its essence and replacing it with poison. Hermione could feel a persistency about him as they moved and swirled, tracing back to the source of the poison. The source was like a bubbling sewer that sucked its power and spewed out poison. They felt the source become aware of them, so they flowed away, disguising themselves in its cool, clear flavors, but sucking in any tendrils of poison they came across to ensure no more harm was done to it. They cared for it.
He pulled her closer, tighter, until all Hermione felt was his pulsating rhythm, and they were seamlessly one. There was the softest of shifts, and she smelt fragrant tropical air and heard a rustling of leaves below her. She opened her eyes and looked out over his dark, ancient jungle; the full moon hung huge in the sky, casting a silvery light. Hermione glanced behind her, but instead of him laying languidly in repose, he was standing, towering above her, alert, his tail swishing agitatedly. He was a truly awesome sight. His huge tiger-eyes were glinting with fury, but quickly softened as he took in her face.
'My cherished,' came his sound.
He lowered his head and rubbed it soothingly across her cheek, and Hermione breathed in his earthy smell, bringing her hands up to gently rub his velvety ears. How she longed to stay here forever with him.
'Poison Water must be taught his rightful position. This time he has gone too far. Water into fire and fire into water,' came his sound, deep with anger.
Hermione did not know the way back. How was she to return? Where had she been? Nothing had ever dared to try and take her before and risk his anger. 'How, my loved one?'
His tail swished furiously, and his muscles under his coat rippled in agitation. He did not answer right away. Hermione shifted to a cross-legged position and looked out over the silvery trees. A night bird called. Then he flopped down beside her, his huge paws around her possessively, and she felt his warm breath on her back.
'Poison Water is playing a dangerous game. He thought by taking you, he would either have you as his or you would shift into the other realm. But there is an older magic he does not know about. Go into Spring Water, and he will guide you to his earth. I cannot be with you, my love, but I will be standing guard. Water into fire and fire into water.'
He shifted abruptly away. Images came into Hermione's mind that made no sense. She was sitting on the floor, her arms around someone, and that person felt nice. There was a wet sensation on her lower left forearm, which was pleasing and sent hot bolts of pleasure throughout her body. But she tried to suppress those pleasures as if they were inappropriate. Hermione looked down at the slender figure in her lap with her disheveled, tangled hair. Very tenderly, she moved a lock of curly, brown hair to see a pale face. The woman had her eyes closed, as if she was asleep, but was moving her mouth sensually against her forearm. The woman's face was familiar to her, and Hermione tried to remember why. Anxiety for the woman flowed through her, and again Hermione didn't know why; it was like trying to recall something from years ago. Then she saw the recent, red scarring on the woman's forehead and the bandaged wand hand.
Everything rapidly shifted around her. Her body was curled up, and she was moving her tongue gently over salty skin, feeling the rough texture of the skin surrounding the Mark and the unhealthy smoothness of the Dark Mark itself. She was diluting the poison that was emanating from it. Hermione heard the fire crackle and the beating of a man's heart. Her head was leaning up against something soft, and she could feel someone gently move her hair from her face and softly touch her cheek. Hermione knew she was with Snape.
Everything shifted violently again. Panic gripped as she was set adrift in the myriad of currents, tangles of possibilities, and she started to pour slowly through other realms of existence and open-ended potentialities.
He was around her, in her, beside her, changing her direction and pushing her back where she belonged.
The touch of Snape's hand caught her and anchored her in. She felt warmth on her cheek; she was curled up in Snape's lap and had a chink in her neck. Hermione stopped licking the Dark Mark, trying to concentrate on where she was. The young witch felt soft touches all over her face and heard detachedly a sound that she should have been able to understand, but could not.
Opening her eyes, Hermione saw the woman in her arms again, and tried to remember who she was. The woman looked like she was sleeping, but Hermione knew she was not. Why did she feel scared for her? She should have been doing something for the woman...but what? Fear, guilt and love engulfed her, and not knowing what else to do, she bent forward, feeling the soft skin on her lips as she kissed her. The woman was her.
Hermione drifted away again...how she longed to be with him. Why couldn't he just let her stay with him? She felt him press her firmly down.
Once more she was feeling soft touches all about her face, accompanied by a warm breath and a deep noise rumbling next to her ear. She was with Snape, being held by Snape. Hermione grabbed onto the wizard's shirt so that she couldn't be dragged away again. Then as if tuning into the right frequency, Hermione understood the deep noise was Snape's voice reciting like a mantra.
'My lady, we are here in Hogwarts. You are here beside me. I am here, my lady.'
Hermione was unable to answer, but moved her face in the direction of his voice. She opened her eyes and looked straight into the darkest, blackest eyes she had ever seen. Hermione watched as Snape lifted his long-fingered hand and stroked it gently down her cheek. On impulse, she turned her head and kissed the white fingers softly. She didn't want to fall away. The gentle rise and fall of Snape's chest stopped. Hermione looked up again into his black eyes and saw a curious light there before she felt his lips lightly touch hers. Hermione moved her lips in response and felt him press her more firmly. She nibbled at his soft lower lip and saw his eyes widen slightly before she felt his wet, warm tongue run over her lips, seeking entrance. Hermione moved deeper into the kiss, allowing Snape to move into her, enjoying the feeling of him and caressed his tongue with hers. She knew Snape...she had been inside Snape...and she no longer held any fear of him. As they kissed, Hermione could taste where she had been and could almost recreate the deep, primordial power that she had swum amongst. It fixed her to where she needed to be. Hermione felt him gently lessening their closeness, and slowly they parted. Hermione lifted her eyes upwards and saw him looking down at her, his hand gently on her hair.
'It was you... I was in you,' the witch said in barely more than a whisper.
Snape nodded and drew her upwards so that her head was resting softly on his shoulder, his arms wrapped reassuringly around her.
'Are you all right, my lady?' asked Snape, running his hand gently down her cheek.
'Your touch is keeping me here, but you must use older magic. I must go into you, and you must guide me to your earth.' Her voice drifted around her in a detached, hollow manner that seemed to have no connection to her. Hermione had no idea what she was saying; it was as if it was coming from a different part of her brain, but she prayed Snape understood. Her life depended on him.
'But the Dark Lord?' Snape looked at her steadily, his eyes dark in his face.
'I have mine to protect us. He cannot help you but he is guarding us.'
Snape moved over her, lying her carefully down on the rug, and Hermione felt his nose bump into hers before his lips were on hers again. She lifted her hand behind his head, bringing him closer, feeling his soft hair. This time there was more hunger as he ran his tongue around her lips, but when Hermione willingly opened her mouth to him, he continued to nibble her lips. That's right, remembered Hermione through her fogged brain, and she entered his mouth. As she felt his tongue caress hers, his fluid around her, she knew him once more. Much like a smell could trigger a whole host of memories, so to this feeling plunged Hermione back into Snape, and she felt the ancient earth that had encompassed his water for millennia. All her senses came back more fixedly. She became aware of Snape over her, his body warm on hers, their legs intertwined, his hands cupping her face, the tickle of an escaped lock of his hair on her neck, the feel of his hot tongue welcoming her, enjoying her being there. The wizard shifted his weight to lie beside her, but Hermione grew anxious. 'Don't let go of me, my friend.'
'I would never do that,' he gently chided, entwining their fingers together, but moving so he lay alongside her, their bodies warm.
Tenseness moved through him like a wave. 'I ask your forgiveness, my lady. I did not know the Dark Lord was going to use me this way. I gave you my oath that I would protect you and yours, but I unknowingly led you into danger.'
'I know that, and so does he...do not worry,' Hermione whispered, looking into Snape's black eyes and seeing the worry there.
'Thank Merlin.' Snape closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Hermione felt his body relax.
'No, he knows you and likes you.'
'I felt you both within me,' Snape stated simply after a while, his dark eyes looking down at her. Then added almost guiltily, 'It was good.'
'You felt good to us as well. You have such power, my teacher, such ancient, clear power, but Voldemort is draining it and poisoning you.'
Snape's face clouded. 'That is what happens when one tries to leave the Dark Lord's service. It will eventually kill me. I am sure the Dark Lord is surprised it has not yet happened,' he stated with clinical coldness.
Shocked, Hermione on impulse grabbed his left forearm and started sucking on the Dark Mark, drawing the poison from Snape and sending it to him, who, surprised, absorbed it effortlessly into his power, rendering it neutral. Snape anxiously pulled her away from the Mark.
'We will not let that happen, my teacher. We will not!' she angrily protested.
Her mind started pressing in on itself, and Hermione realized with foreboding that she shouldn't have done that. She had just seriously reduced her chance of being fixed to this reality. Everything around her shifted brutally, and worlds collided violently. She wanted to scream in fear, but nothing came out in her world of yellow. Hermione felt lips hard on hers, drawing her tongue inside him, plunging her back into the warm-watered cavern. Snape touched her silkily, smoothly, no longer skittish or unsure, and pulled her closer, opening himself to her. Hermione felt unsure and alone; she missed him not being here with her. Snape caressed her, acknowledging her sadness and longing until she relaxed and no longer held herself apart. They moved closer, and Hermione could not help feeling the humanness of Snape with all his complexities of emotions, and she realized that she must feel like that to him. They undulated languidly together in perfect rhythm through dark, watery tunnels deep within the earth. A sense of antiquity surrounded them, and they acknowledged they were but a bat of an eyelid to it. But the warmth and tenderness flowed through them as they moved closer to the earth's liquid mantle, and they felt it regarding them lovingly as precious beings. They were humbled under its awareness.
Soft, slippery sensations ran down Hermione's back as if warm mud was oozing down it, and she enjoyed the feeling. Her body opened itself up to the feeling, drawing the gentle, centering sensation into her core. The part that was Hermione couldn't help be curious to what the feeling was. Shh, Snape assured soothingly, with a touch of bemusement, and she somehow understood this was Snape's earth. Hermione drank it in hungrily as if it was the only nourishment she would ever need, and all the time, Snape was around her, taking delight in her pleasure.
Her body told her when she was sated as her awareness moved, and other senses heightened as others regressed. She felt his tongue caressing her, holding her gently. The rug was ticklish on her bare back, and Snape's slippery, warm body was over hers: skin on skin. Snape must have sensed the change as he released her tongue, but still kissed her a few more times slowly. Hermione opened her eyes and looked straight into his dark, warm eyes.
'You are back,' he stated huskily.
Hermione nodded. He felt good next to her, and she was relieved at how steady, firm and fixed everything was. The room was darkened...with only the softest glow coming from the embers in the fireplace...and Snape's face was in shadow. She moved her arms around him, feeling his sweaty back and pulling him closer, wanting his skin on hers. Snape moved forward, kissed both her cheeks and pressed his forehead on hers, his breath warm on her face. He eased his weight over so he lay alongside her and pulled her yet closer to him. Hermione felt him breathing in deeply and his body becoming still and relaxed alongside hers. She felt comfortable, warm and safe, and she moved into a deep, dreamless sleep.
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Latest 25 Reviews for Southern Magic
220 Reviews | 6.94/10 Average
That was a very intriguing set up. I like the mix of the magics and how they countered each other. And that kiss in front of the whole room between Harry and Severus... perfect. Very well done.
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thank you :)
This story drew me in and kept me reading it all day! It is wonderful. I liked how you had the different types of magic feel each other unpleasantly, that was neat. I liked the description of the houses as elements. I just all around really loved reading this story. Thank you so much for sharing it.
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thanks -- glad you enjoyed it :)
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thanks -- glad you enjoyed it :)
I can definitely relate to the taste of stuff in the food putting me off. Plastic taste in water from bottles comes to mind immediately.
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Yes, it's certainly something that most people can relate to! Thanks :)
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Yes, it's certainly something that most people can relate to! Thanks :)
This story captured me and I read it from the first chapter through the Epilogue in one sitting -- taking only bathroom breaks. You are a remarkable and talented author. I look forward to reading more of your inspired works. Thank you for sharing.
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thanks for your kind words :) Glad you liked it.
I love what you've done with the ritual here. This is one of my favorite stories, and I'll be sad to reach the end of it.
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thanks,
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
, glad you like it :)
There are a lot of questions left unanswered - but perhaps that is for the best. I have inferred (erroneously, or not) that Hermione was sexuallly attacked in some manner or form prior to leaving the 'North'; which somehow culminated in the birth of her cherished boy.Your ambivalent view towards sexuality and its implications are startling to me - I can't seem to wrap my mind around the concept of a bisexual Snape and Harry, regardless of what fandom presents. All in all, it was a very lovely read. Unconventional and completely off the beaten path, but all the better for it.
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thanks for your thoughtful review -- much appreciated. Yes, that is very much one interpretation of Hermione's background. I put a number of dots in the story and I wanted to give the reader the freedom to join them up how they want. The most important point was that her son was everything to her -- all the rest is really background. And...Snape and Harry...well, that was a mini challenge to myself lol. Once again thanks for reviewing.
This is wonderful. This is a cogent world arising from difference in perception and responses to the fundamental sources of magical power and the consequent divergence in the way it is expressed, channeled and used through human agency. You have brought me effortlessly into this world, and enabled my immersion in it as easily as if I had been born into water and always known how to swim. This is a rare talent and one I love above all things. The alternate world you have created is deeply believeable, like the a tree whose branches I can travel along; thinking, speculating and delighted by the difference I can see due to the shift in perspective I can see by climbing. You have the gift of a true storyteller, and I am delighted with this other part of the wizarding world that you have crafted.The richness of the backstory adds so much to this work. The difference in language and the complexity and subtlety of forms of address speak of a cultural richness of the type that evolves in an old civilization. I can see the Hindu and perhaps some Balinese influence behind the customs and expressions of respect of the southern realm, but there also seems to me to be more than a hint of an old female-power-centric religion here, with strong threads of shamanism, sex magic, the powers of the four elements, and one of the pillars/makers/masters of all the realms melded into a seamless whole. I enjoyed the revelation of Severus's and Hermione's characters, and that he recognized and acknowledged the maturity of her power and skill and was able to support it while still remaining acerbic and ironic, and more than a touch prickly at times. Hermione so strong and sure in power, but with some, perhaps, difficulties caused by her forthrigthness. The gradual growth and deepening of their magical and personal connection was well handled and natural, and I was so pleased that I couldn't tell if they would end up as magical partners and friends or as magical partners and mates. I welcome the complexity of an older Harry's character and his gradual maturing as his magic was healed and completed. It's refreshing to see him portrayed as a charismatic young man on his way to balanced adulthood, neither saint nor terminal twerp. I was amused by and enjoyed the public liplock he put on Severus. The unregarded trumpet sounding change in all the wizarding world?Loved the image of Hermione in company with Severus, looking like mini-me with a witch's hat, and I chuckled imagining her bouncing around Hogwarts in full Victorian fig including a hoop skirt.I am so glad you didn't tell us everything. Why was Severus taken to the north at such a critical time in the development of his magic? Why was he drawn into Voldemort's orbit? What impelled him to leave it? How did Hermione escape the Death Eaters? Did they deem her so crippled by her rape and the deaths of her parents that she was simply tossed away? How did she reach the south? How was her soul healing undertaken? When did the split between southern and northern magic occur and how did they come to be so antithetical? Mind, it doesn't trouble me if these questions are never answered, I'm delighted that they are sparked!Thanks for the great ride!
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Goodness me, that must be the most comprehensive review I've ever received *blushes*. I am so happy that you enjoyed the story. Thank you for reading and reviewing :)
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Goodness me, that must be the most comprehensive review I've ever received *blushes*. I am so happy that you enjoyed the story. Thank you for reading and reviewing :)
very poetic and quite intresting, and quite A WAY WITH WORDS .
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
lol thanks
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
:)
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
lol thanks
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
:)
Fascinating story! Well done!
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thanks :)
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thanks :)
That is a marvellous story you have written for us! Very moving... It's very original and the magic feels mature (not this jump-and-run-magic of DH). I admired Harry's pov, when he goes the last time to Hogsmead, it's truly moving. And the other Harry parts... Normally I'm not into slash, but this time! Hot!Your Snape felt very canon, but could transform nicely after you explained some of his issues. Hermione was lovely too.Also the space and the plotting of the story was very smooth, it was not chopped at all (and I read it in two goes). But I'm still curious about the little boy - I truly love the tiny bits you wrote about him - is there a chance of a sequal?Thank you very much!
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thanks
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
-- glad you liked it. Not sure about a sequal just yet; I always think you have to treat them with care. I am in the middle of writing something right now, although not HGSS story I'm afraid. (Snape features of course - he is my muse after all lol). To be honest, I hadn't realized how everyone was going to be so fascinated about the boy lol. Thanks for taking the time to write down your thoughts -- I appreciate it.
Such a well done, original story. I love how you blended canon and your own au in this. Thank you.
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thanks ric :)
Beautiful and hilarious and almost entirely satisfying. The 'almost' is the mysterious history of the boy that you left behind. The 'how' was confirmed, at least to my vision, but the 'by who' is a bit of a niggler. I can't see how what I imagine to have happened would be worked into the same story, though; it would divert the flow that you've already created very well. Oh well. Great job, I loved every minute of your creation. Hope to see more from you soon. Happy writing!
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Oooh, you too are good at subtle. I think I know what you mean and the 'by who'? Well, does it really matter? Hermione loves the boy, which is the main issue. That's why I started the story and ended the story with the same sentence :) Thanks for writing your thoughts down -- very intresting.
I enjoyed the story but am still puzzled by a few things... If this was your intention. good job :) Thank you very much for writing and I hope you will consider a sequel.
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Glad you enjoyed the story,
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
. I tried to tie up all the loose ends although there were some things I left intentionally vague and open to interpretation. Do feel free to ask about anything that you are puzzeled by. It would be interesting for me as well :)
I have, after not being too sure of the first couple of chapters, thouroughly enjoyed this story (and that hesitation was only because I wasn't sure if it would head towards the kind of story I usually avoid )
I'd really like to see some more of this AU of yours - something with a bit more backstory on her boy, perhaps? He is still very much a mystery. Or a bit more about Snape's Southern past? (Embarrassing tales of his toddlerhood come to mind)
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thanks
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
-- I really enjoyed writing this story as well. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what I'll write next -- got loads of ideas perculating away, though :)
I've enjoyed your story very much. Certainly puts Severus in a different light. Thanks for your work!
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thanks for reading and reviewing :)
What an amazing story! I have really enjoyed reading it, and have checked for updates regularly. I really admire the way you have made the characters so believable, warts and all. The idea of southern magic is wonderful, and well thought out.I am sorry I haven't reviewed before now-I know that sometimes it is hard to keep going, not knowing if anyone is reading or enjoying it. I have started 2 fics and gave up when they got either flamed, or people not responding at all (which is even worse). Just know that I have been fascinated since the beginning, and am very pleased with the ending. I look foward to any other stories you write.Sincerely, Luca the V
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thanks -- glad you enjoyed reading it :)
So original in concept and vividly executed.
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thanks
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
:)
Really cool fic. It is very different from any that I have read but I really like it.
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thanks
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
-- glad you liked it :)
A very enjoyable story. I like the idea that 'southern magic' will be mentioned (maybe taught someday?) at Hogwarts.
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thanks
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
-- I wanted to create a sense of future developments with that :)
I have really enjoyed this story but I admit to being a little confused. Is Hermione the child's mother? If so who is his father?Other than that kudos on a excellent story
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
With 'the boy' I did leave it intentionally vague -- and it can be open to a few interpretations. But for me, what was most important about him was that Hermione loved him very deeply and to a certain extent the boy was the one who held her firmly to this realm.
Response from Anijade (Reviewer)
Ah ok thank you for the explaination
Wow. That was intense. I'm very much looking forward to your next update.
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thanks
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
-- yeah, it was a bit. Next chapter should be soon :)
Very intriguing tale so far. I look forward to the next installment. Will we ever find out just what 'The South' is geographically?Thank you for writing
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
Thanks
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
. When I started writing this story, I had intended to be more geographically specific but as I continued to write, what became more important, in my mind, were the attitudes and prejudices people have towards others living in different areas and that it happens no matter where you live. It is something most of us understand and have possibly experienced. So I thought I would leave it vague and let the reader fill in the gaps with their own personal experience depending on where they are in the world. But I am also happy to say where I was thinking about when I wrote it if you want -- I don't mean it to be a secret -- and it doesn't alter the story any.
Saliva or other liquid bodily products? Somehow I don't think Harry is going to take kindly to that suggestion.
Response from lapita (Author of Southern Magic)
But that's the fun, don't you think? Thanks for reading and reviewing.