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The Philosopher's Fate by peskipiksi [Reviews - 8]

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The next few days were much like the first weeks of their marriage. They hardly spoke, went to bed at different times and never touched. Hermione spent the week worried sick that the Carrows would exact revenge for her escape from the Ministry, and approached Friday’s Dark Arts lesson feeling like she was headed for the gallows. She knew the sensible thing to do would be to ask Severus for help, but the self-sufficient, stubborn part of her refused to.

Amycus Carrow ignored her throughout the lesson, and she began to nurture a faint hope that he would leave her alone, possibly out of a desire not to lock horns with Severus again. But as the bell rang, and the rest of the class packed up its books as quickly as possible, Carrow barked, ‘Granger! Stay here; I want to talk to yeh!’ and her stomach sank.

Neville shot her a sympathetic look as she picked up her bag and dragged herself to the front of the classroom. Carrow stood there, smirking at her, until the students had vacated the premises, then he took out his wand and aimed it straight at her. Hermione flinched.

‘I hear yeh didn’t cooperate with Madam Umbridge,’ he sneered.

Hermione lifted her chin in an attempt to bolster her courage. ‘My husband took objection to my being kidnapped and came to fetch me home.’

Carrow’s eyes narrowed at her mention of “my husband”. ‘Well, see, the thing is, Madam Umbridge didn’t get the information out of yeh that she wanted, so I’m gonna see if I can get it for her. Legilimens!

He had turned his wand on her so fast she was taken by surprise, but the memory of his sneer as she said “my husband” goaded her into action. She quickly employed Occlumency and deliberately showed him, in slow motion, exactly what had happened between her and Severus after their return from the Ministry.

Carrow snarled and broke the connection. ‘Might’ve known he’d teach you Occlumency,’ he wheezed. ‘Still, there’re other methods for getting information out of people.’ He sneered at her again, a look of malicious pleasure spreading over his lumpy face, and she knew she was about to pay for what she had just shown him. ‘Less pleasant methods. Let’s see if I can’t loosen that tongue of yourn. Cruci…’

Hermione cowered, expecting agonising pain, but before he could finish the word, Carrow staggered backwards, clutching his left arm.

‘Amycus!’ Alecto Carrow had obviously been lurking outside the door, hoping to eavesdrop on any information her brother managed to extract from Hermione (or else simply to enjoy the sound of her being tortured). Now, she barrelled into the classroom, wild excitement in her eyes. ‘Leave the Mudblood,’ she screeched. ‘We got to go. The Dark Lord’s waiting for us!’ And she and her brother hared off out of the castle without giving Hermione a backward glance.

Hermione leaned against the teacher’s desk, gasping for breath as her mind processed her lucky escape. Then she began to run up to her rooms, ignoring the stitch in her side. If the Death Eaters had been called by Voldemort, then Severus would be gone too. And despite their differences over the last week, she found she didn’t want that to happen. The rational, adult part of her brain, which she had shut off while wallowing in injured teenage pride, admitted that the reason she had been so jealous was that she loved him, and she couldn’t bear the thought of him facing Voldemort, being made to do Merlin only knew what, while thinking she hated him. If he had indeed gone, she would sit up for as long as necessary to wait for him, and then she would apologise for her behaviour.

But when she crashed through the door of Severus’ office, he was there, pacing the room, his normally calm, stoical demeanour replaced by agitation.

‘Severus!’ Hermione flung herself at him with such force, he staggered backwards before regaining his balance and closing his arms around her to steady her too. ‘I thought you’d be gone! The Carrows were summoned; their Marks burned!’

‘No, that summons was for the Carrows alone,’ he told her, leading her into the sitting room and lowering her onto the sofa. ‘I became alarmed when Amycus made no move against you this week. I was sure he was waiting for your Dark Arts lesson, and, rather than confront him myself and risk another reprisal for you, I decided to have a little word with the Dark Lord.’

‘You made him call them?’

‘I told him the Carrows were undermining my authority over you. I have a legal duty to keep you under surveillance, and I cannot do that if they insist on Imperiusing and kidnapping you.’

‘He was about to use Cruciatus on me,’ she whimpered, trembling.

‘Then I am glad I persuaded the Dark Lord to summon them in time,’ Severus replied gravely. ‘The Ministry sees it as my duty to subdue you. I see it was my duty to protect you. You will not be placed within the Carrows’ reach again. I shall take over your lessons from them.’ He smiled grimly. ‘Once the Dark Lord has finished with them, I doubt they will dare touch you again in any case.’

He had saved her from Carrow yet again, and at the risk of incurring He Who Must Not Be Named’s wrath. ‘You do love me!’ she blurted out.

‘I do. I told you that when we returned from the lake. It was said in anger, but I meant it.’ He put an arm around her and kissed her, but not passionately; it was as if he were testing the waters, trying to ascertain her mood towards him. When he released her, his voice was serious.

‘Hermione? You do understand that my Patronus is about more than my feelings for Lily, don’t you? It reminds me of the promise I made to Dumbledore to protect Potter, to help him defeat the Dark Lord.’ His voice hardened still further. ‘It reminds me of the consequences of my youthful stupidity.’

‘I understand. I was being idiotic and jealous, and I apologise.’ She squirmed in her seat, as if wanting to say something else and not quite daring to. Then she took a deep breath and said, ‘Severus? I’ve been thinking about what you said when I told you about my new Patronus. You said, “Half the people in this castle call me that behind my back”. Did I upset you? Does my new Patronus offend you?’

‘No. I am perfectly aware of how I am viewed; it is all part of the act.’

She was quick to clarify, the words coming out in a jumble like they used to then she was a child. ‘But I don’t think of you like that. I used to, but that’s not why it changed. It was the way you strode into the Ministry like an avenging angel. That’s what I was thinking when I cast it. I thought you were going to descend on me and sweep me away. Did I mention I think it’s sexy?’

One eyebrow rose. ‘You did indeed.’

‘Good, because I wouldn’t want you to think I still hated you like I used to. I know we all used to call you a great black bat, but…’ She waved her hands in the air, gesticulating wildly in an attempt to explain.

He caught hold of her hands and held them tightly. ‘Hermione, stop. Stop worrying. I am not offended. In fact I think it’s useful that your Patronus is something suitable for a Death Eater – something that suggests you are still afraid of me. If I were to choose, I think I would like a cat – sleek, independent and an expert in the prowling walk,’ he told her with a sardonic smile. ‘But if any of the Dark Lord’s supporters saw that, even the Marriage Law would not save you.’ Both his smile and his voice warmed. ‘You were supposed to marry me. You were not supposed to fall in love with me.’

‘I messed up, then,’ she whispered, ‘because I did.’

‘And I with you, Hermione, I with you.’ She looked up into his eyes; they were glittering, for once not from anger or malice, but from desire. ‘Now,’ he asked in a low voice, ‘what were you saying about my being sexy?’ He stood up, and spread his arms wide, so that the sleeves of his black gown extended.

Hermione squeaked and ran, giggling, into the bedroom, with Severus in pursuit. He swooped down on her, swept her up and deposited her on the bed. In one fluid movement, he had straddled her waist and pinned her hands firmly above her head. The gown fell about her, trapping her in his thrall, and she stared up at him, wondering if she would regret teasing him. Then his mouth descended on hers, and she knew she regretted nothing.

*
Hermione was drifting off to sleep on a cloud of post-coital bliss in Severus’ arms, when his voice woke her up.

‘Hermione. There is something I should tell you.’ He hesitated: this was clearly an important confession. She lay still, her cheek on his chest, listening to his quickened breathing. ‘My Patronus has changed.’

Hermione turned in his arms and stared at him. ‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’

‘I wanted to be sure you understood what the doe represented.’

She was confused. ‘You said it represented defeating You Know Who, and helping Harry.’

‘You accused me of not changing my loyalties and affections. My loyalty to Dumbledore and to Lily’s memory has not changed. I still want the Dark Lord destroyed. I will still do everything I can to assist Potter. And there will always be a place in my heart for Lily. But my priorities have changed. You are my priority now and I will do everything in my power to protect you. Your Patronus changed due to an emotionally traumatic event – a not uncommon trigger. Mine changed the moment I realised I would risk my life to keep yours safe.

It is a not an easy thing to do, asking a favour from the Dark Lord. As I made my way there, it was of you I thought, you whom I was trying to protect, and it was the thought of you that carried me through the interview. I can only say that as I considered how foolhardy my errand was, I felt my priorities, and my feelings for you, change. I had a suspicion that if I were to cast a Patronus then, it would reflect that change.’

Hermione gaped at him. ‘You didn’t cast a Patronus in front of You Know Who?’

‘No. That would be suicide, or, in this case, uxoricide.’

Hermione looked blank.

‘The murder of one’s wife,’ he explained, smiling. ‘No, I waited until I was back in the Hogwarts grounds; there are enough Dementors there to warrant a Patronus, but I hid amongst the trees and made sure I was not observed. And I thought of you.’

‘What is it now?’ Hermione asked breathlessly.

‘A lion. Highly embarrassing. I am the first Slytherin headmaster for a hundred years and I have a lion for a Patronus.’ Incredibly, Severus was laughing. ‘It’s that blasted great cat of yours which inspired it. Women! Am I never to be allowed to choose my own Patronus?’

‘Hogwarts Headmaster Henpecked,’ giggled Hermione. ‘Rita Skeeter would love that!’

He growled at her, and she wriggled up his chest to kiss him, still laughing.

Eventually Hermione calmed down enough to say, ‘Actually, I think it’s appropriate. Dumbledore said you were sorted too soon.’

Severus became very still, looking at her intently.

‘You said asking a favour from You Know Who was scary,’ she explained ‘but you still did it – for me. I’d say you earned that Patronus.’

‘I am your husband; it is my duty to protect you. My duty and my pleasure.’

He pulled her round on top of him and kissed her until they had both forgotten about Patronuses, the Carrows, even Voldemort himself.

At length, Hermione pulled away, eyes sparkling. ‘Oh! I forgot. Happy Birthday, Severus!’


The Philosopher's Fate by peskipiksi [Reviews - 8]

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