Snape Redux

Snape Redux

Chapter 15 – Sandy White

It all belongs to Rowling, except for the parts you don’t recognize.

A/N: I’ve mentioned this before. Anything over 5,000 words (this chapter is over 6,000), my proofreading skills lag. Enjoy!


Already dressed for bed, Professor McGonagall came to the door, “Why Harry! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be off celebrating or something?”

He walked into the Headmistress’s office, still covered in sweat, blood and grime from the final battle, “I can’t. I can’t rest or do anything until I’ve settled this.”

She sat down behind her desk and motioned for Harry to take a seat, “Please tell me what this is about.”

“There was a detention I was doing for Snape before—before everything changed. I need to look at the work I was doing for him.”

“Good Merlin, child. Why?”

“Please Professor, I’ll leave everything as I found it. I promise.”

“Very well Harry, but could you please explain this further?”

Harry looked at the woman who had been his housemistress for six years. They didn’t really have a close bond, but he did feel a great deal for her. “My mother. Was she very popular?”

“Well, you know she was. Yes, she was a lovely girl. Her popularity was well deserved.”

“So a lot of blokes fancied her?”

“Where is this heading?” McGonagall’s face went pale and two high marks of color appeared on her cheeks. “She was a beautiful, vivacious, young witch. Until James came along in her Seventh year quite a few young men asked her out.”

“Like Snape?”

McGonagall gasped, “Before he died, what did that man tell you? Never mind--whatever he said I wouldn’t put too much stock in it. He was always high strung but the strain he’d been under towards the end had affected his mind.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Harry swallowed hard. “Thank you. That tells me a lot.”

When Harry found the files he accio’d Lily Evans records. Two cards came to him. The first card was in a section dated November 1975 and read, “Lily Evans and Severus Snape, found after hours behind Greenhouses. Double detention.” The second card was from February of the next year and the card read, “Lily Evans and Severus Snape. Found after hours atop of Astronomy tower. Double Detention.”

Harry, feeling sick to his stomach, walked up the stone steps leading to the entrance hall of the castle.


&&&

He awoke in a bedroom that seemed an odd combination of hospice and hotel. There was an oxygen tube over his face, clipped into his nostrils and he startled as he tangled in its cord, not realizing there was also an IV in his arm.

A nurse came rushing in. She was a petite oriental lady with short black hair and a no-nonsense attitude.

“Now, now, Mr. White everything’s fine. Calm down. Please, your IV will pull out.” Her accent was strange to his ears. Either she was an immigrant or… he looked out the window to an overcast day and strange tropical treetops blowing in a strong wind. He lay back, feeling tired.

“That’s better. It’s good to see you’re finally back with us,” She made a note in the chart at the foot of his bed.

“Where? What happened?” He remembered the battle and then no more. This wasn’t St. Mungo’s—

“You are at the Hauser-Thorson Clinic. You’ve been out for a few days and it’s normal to be a bit confused.”

His heart began to race. What nightmare was he having now? His head was bandaged including his face.

He licked his parched lips and the nurse, Mia was the name on the nametag, poured him a glass of water putting a straw in it. He sipped it and it soothed his throat. Feeling better, he cleared his throat and repeated, “What happened?”

“There was a car accident while you were here on vacation with your cousin. You went through the windshield and collided with a palm tree. Your face was badly damaged. Some sort of acidic solution, perhaps from the car engine, sprayed on your skin. In addition, all your facial bones fractured. You were also in need of some dental work. Please don’t be alarmed. We have excellent plastic surgeons here. You couldn’t have picked a better spot for your jeep to crash than directly outside our gates.” A small crease appeared between her eyes.

“Get me a mirror.” The woman shot out of the room, looking even more worried.

He thought he’d never be able to show his face in the Wizarding World again. And now he was right.

The nurse returned with a grey haired doctor with tired eyes.

“Mr. White?”

When he got no response, he came a bit closer. “Mr. White?”

The man swallowed and looked up. “What’s my first name?”

The doctor looked to the nurse. And then he took the chart. Tapping his finger on the chart, he stated, “Too many pain meds, nurse. No wonder he’s confused. That dosage is way too high. Taper off.”

Then he looked at the man in the bed, “Xander. Xander White. Does that help?”

Xander White gingerly touched his face. “I want to see it.”

“Too soon, Mr. White. The dressing will be changed twice a day, but it’s really useless to look at your face like this. You need to wait for the swelling to go down.”

“When?”

“A few days to a week should suffice, depends how fast at healing you are. And once you are past the point of infection--you did lose a few layers of skin due to blistering--well, then you’ll be released.”

“Is it really bad?” And then he asked himself, why should I care?

“We’ll find out,” the doctor smiled, “won’t we?”

Xander’s body shook and he put his face in his hands as he began to cry.

The doctor frowned.

“You must stop that. Too much blood flow to the face will slow down your recovery. Mia, add a low dosage of valium to the IV, please. And get that new social worker in here.”

&&&

The trade winds brushed over Hermione’s face, pushing back the heat from the tropical sun. She picked up her bags and rested them on the lanai of the small, tin-roofed shack. She knocked on the door, feeling twitches of nervousness in her belly.

Gods, what if he didn’t want to see her? What if he hated her for what she had done to him?

Well, what if? She could live with it. She knew she could learn to live with anything now. The war was over for weeks, and yet she still was trying to relax. She could learn to live with anything, except not needing to be afraid all the time. She felt as if she were in a horror film: the one which during the last five minutes the characters start to think everything is all right only to find the monster hadn’t really died. She could do anything, but relax.

She stamped her foot. Well, he wasn’t a monster. He’d been twisted and warped by circumstances, but he wasn’t a monster.

Another soft wind blew and caressed her like a goddess’ kiss. She knocked on the door again.

“Are you lookin’ for Sandy, ma’am?” came a voice from the road. At first the American drawl confused her.

She turned, “I’m looking for Mr. Xander White.”

The man was running to fat and had thinning salt and pepper hair, but she could tell he had been handsome in his youth.

“We call him Sandy White,” he walked to her holding out his hand for Hermione to shake. “He don’t really have a stick up his butt, he just acts like it.”

“That would be him,” Hermione smiled. The thought of him stalking around and glaring reassured her a bit.

“I’m Captain Max, by the way. You know, we figure it’s because he’s British. They all act like that, pip, pip, stiff upper lip and cheerio.”

“Being British myself, it’s hard to tell,” she was barely keeping herself from laughing. “I’m Hermione Granger.”

“Well, aren’t you the loveliest thing? I right envy our Sandy having a pretty little filly looking for him.” He pointed down a side road paved with broken shells. “Being it’s Sunday afternoon, he’ll be at the Widow Riley’s. I heard talk he’s fixing the roof and tutoring the eldest boy.”

Hermione blinked. “Should I wait for him here?”

“My, you are British, ain’t you? We don’t stand on formalities here. Just walk down the road a might, about a quarter mile. You can’t miss it. Not set back from the road like this place.”

“Thank you.”

She began to pick up the luggage. Unfortunately, the rollers on it didn’t have much traction in the sand of the driveway.

“Missy, you can leave that here. Nobody’s gonna touch it. We all family. If I wasn’t already late—“ he checked his watch, “Wheee-hoo, I am late.

“Tell Sandy that the Captain says he’s got the evening off. Seeing he’s got a lady caller. I’ll handle the sunset tour myself.”

The man walked down the drive and down the road in the direction of the small tin-roofed village her taxi had just driven through.

She looked around her and choked down a scream. It had been a long plane flight into Honolulu and a long taxi ride to this out of the way little hamlet. And now he wasn’t even in? She had sand in her shoes and sweat was pooling in the small of her back. She was tempted to take out her wand and just Apparate out of there. She started walking.

As she walked, listening to the buzzing of various insects and bird song entirely foreign to her, she tried not to think about what she’d say when she saw him. And then there was a clearing.

She saw a little house with a tin-roof complete with the usual lanai or porch that every building seemed to have. There was a man on the roof hammering. Two boys, maybe ten and eight years of age were throwing a disk for a mangy brown dog to chase and a woman, with a wide flat face, olive skin and brown eyes, stood up from a chair where she’d been shelling some peas.

Hermione walked towards the house.

“What can I do for you?” asked the lady coolly.

The man on the roof continued to work. Hermione looked up but couldn’t make him out very well. Then the man stopped hammering.

“I’m looking for a Mr. White.”

“Sandy, someone here for you.”

The man slowly climbed down the ladder. She didn’t recognize him. But how many Xander Whites could there be?

He stopped a few feet away from her. “Hermione.”

The woman’s eyes went wide. “That’s her? The one you been talkin’ about?”

Hermione looked at the man. It was Snape’s voice, smooth but different--calmer, richer.

They had totally restructured his face. This wasn’t a simply case of rhinoplasty; it was much more than that.

“It’s good to see you again,” Hermione said, feeling incredibly stupid.

He stood there, and then dropped the hammer. He turned to the woman and the two boys who had joined her. “Tomika, this is Hermione Granger. Hermione, Tomika, and her sons Sean and Bobby Riley.” Hermione noticed that while Tomika looked oriental her children were of mixed race, with thick curly black hair and dark brown skin and light colored eyes.

“Captain Max says you have the night off. Something about he’d handle the tour.”

“Yes, the Captain is our local Pooh-Bah and lord on high of everything else. He owns everything you see around here: the Tiki Lounge, Laundromat, rental housing and real estate—all his. I’ve been earning a bit extra working as a tour guide. People like the accent.” Sandy’s body language was tense, almost rigid.

An uneasy silence descended. Finally Tomika spoke up, “Sandy, you go now. Take the girl. You have a lot to talk about.”

“I didn’t finish your roof,” he picked up the hammer.

“I’ll put some pans out if it rains. Go. Shoo.”

Sandy snorted and walked past the house toward the beach.

“Follow me, it’s the long way around but makes for a pleasant walk.”

“Sandy, don’t forget your shoes,” said Tomika.

“Sorry!”

“You’d forget your head if it weren’t tied on,” Tomika said rolling her eyes.

He walked back and picked up a pair of green plastic flip-flops from the foot of the ladder and continued walking down a track towards the beach. He was wearing a large straw hat and his long, sleek black hair was tied back with a rubber band. He had on tan shorts and a white scoop necked tee shirt. His legs and arms were tanned a deep brown.

“You caught me on my good neighbor day. Tomika’s husband was stationed here in the military. He died last year and we’ve set up a barter. I fix the roof, kill spiders and tutor the boys in return for the occasional free meal and surfboard lessons.” He walked quickly ahead, his feet not minding the way the sand sunk beneath his toes.

Hermione was having problems keeping up. He stopped and looked at her with mild distain. “You aren’t going to do very well in those shoes. Just take them off.”

He continued along the beach, now walking with the surf slipping around his ankles. Hermione was huffing and she felt her skin turning crimson.

“Stop walking so fast--”

“We are there.” He pointed to a shack half way up the side of the hill and Hermione realized it was indeed the other side of the place she’d just been to.

She followed him up to the back of the hut. He stepped into a plastic tray of water and she did so as well.

“Helps to track less sand indoors.”

She looked at the place, like Tomika’s house, it seemed ready to fall down with one good tropical storm.

There was a plastic shower stall under a tree and an electrical generator to the side of the house. He had a small propane BBQ set up on the lanai and a wooden table with two plastic chairs.

He looked about and then said, “It doesn’t look like much, I know. There’s a lack of affordable housing here.”

“I think it looks—very native.”

“Most of the time, I don’t bother with electricity. Only crank up the generator if I want the radio on or have something to keep cold in the freezer. Fancy something to drink? Since Tomika’s given us the boot, might as well start dinner.”

“Just water, thanks. I don’t want to be a bother. I came here for a reason, Severus.”

“It’s Sandy. No idea who Severus is. I doubt very much that I ever knew him. And I don’t want to know, thank you very much.“

Hermione walked up to him. “I have something that belongs to you in my bags.”

“You came straight here from the airport?”

“Yes,” she was tired, but this was so very important.

“Doing things the Muggle way. Just like me without my wand.”

“I have that, too, right here in my bag. Just a moment.” She ran to the front entry and brought in her large suitcase. She opened it and brought a baton to him. “Disguised it for customs.”

As he touched it, it returned to its original form. Sandy frowned and put it on the coffee table. “You know, I just realized I’m much better off without it. Thank you for the new life, Granger.” He sat on the couch, ”But was the old face really that bad?” His voice held a bit of outrage.

He touched his nose. It was straighter and smaller. And his face was less severe--he was actually quite handsome.

“Or were you afraid the Ministry of Magic would come all the way to Hawaii in their pursuit of me?”

“I’m sorry. I had to use a spell on you that would enable me to get you out of the battle and Great Britain to some place you’d be safe. Unfortunately, there was some damage.”

“A car crash? That’s what they said at the clinic,” he crossed his long legs and sat back.

“A bit worse I’m afraid. I used a spell from a book that Viktor gave me. I transformed you into a porcelain doll. I had you safely in my pocket when I was knocked into a megalith. Part of your nose chipped off and your face was a spider’s web of cracks. Add to that you were already covered with Voldemort’s blood and I wasn’t able to fix you. A simple “Reparo” had no effect or any other spells I tried. There was something about that circle and the kinds of magics being used. Viktor wound up having to have over a dozen Muggle style stitches on his scalp wound. No magical healing worked for him either. I decided it was best to plant you in a car wreck seconds away from a medical clinic that specialized in plastic and facial reconstructive surgery. I transformed you back and made sure you received immediate medical attention. I was able to fill out all the forms before heading back to England.”

“Well, they did a bang up job, didn’t they?” A nervous tic appeared by the side of his mouth. “So anymore news that you’d like to fill me in on? How’s your Viktor doing now?”

“He was elected Minister of Magic in Bulgaria last week. Professor--”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not a professor anymore--I’m not anyone--Just a tourist who is recuperating from a vehicle crash.” He stood and headed to the kitchenette.

“I have some kielbasa I could barbeque for us. It’s rather good. Made locally. You’re lucky that I’ve got the electricity on.”

Hermione stared at the ground. “DO you hate me?”

Sandy glared at her. “Couldn’t you have come up with a better name than Xander White?”

“I couldn’t go to the local Wizarding population, too many questions and, beside there is none here. No Wizards at all on this island. Most of the American Wizards stay on the Mainland. So I went to the local crime syndicate. And the choice was between Eugene Perseus Goldfarb or Xander White. I thought you’d like the name White because of Albus.”

“Actually, I quite like the name Perseus, but thank you for the thought. I should get dinner going.”

“I’m not staying. Just one more thing and then I’ll leave.” She returned to the trunk and brought out a silver vase. She tapped it with her wand and the illusion gave way to a large stoppered glass bottle holding about a liter of silvery liquid. She also had a Pensieve made of heavy black stone. “I asked Dobby to find them. You had it all very well hidden, the Ministry missed it entirely.”

The color drained from under Sandy’s tan. “I don’t want it. Just take it and leave.”

“You can’t say that. Without re-incorporating the memories, you might wind up in a mental institution.”

“Perhaps that is where I’m best off, Granger. I prefer to think of my past as some sort of Lord of the Rings type fantasy. With all sorts of nasties finally defeated and life going merrily on its way.”

“I’ll help you. Lay down on the couch and I’ll help you. You just have to lay still.”

He gave her a shocked look.

“I’ll be there the whole time. Please do it.”

His eyes darted to the silver filled bottle before they met hers. She smiled and nodded, reassuring him as she would with a young child. Sighing, he sat down on the couch and with a shaking hand he poured some of the contents into the bowl. He sat back and shook his head. “I don’t wish to do this.”

Hermione sat on the end of the couch and crossed her legs. “Put your head in my lap. You can still reach the bowl with your wand.”

Slowly he lied down. Resisting the impulse to stroke his face, she put her hand on his shoulder and he took it.

“Trust me Sev—Sandy, it will be fine.” Hermione felt a bit ill herself. How did he survive for so long with so much gone?

She handed him his wand and he removed the first silver filament from the bowl.

An hour later there were only a few tendrils left and he was shaking all over.

“Do you wish to stop?” Hermione didn’t know how he could stand to could go on.

“I just need to finish.” He was breathing heavily as the last few went in.

Hermione held him. It was quiet in the room, but in the distance she could hear the ocean waves crashing against the shore. He began to speak, softly as if he was telling a fairy tale:

“My uncle used to come into my room every evening when I was a child to tell me a bedtime story. He’d tell me this story of a bad, little Witch who didn’t listen to her big brother. How when her big brother had arranged a marriage for her with a very rich and well-connected pureblooded Wizard, the ungrateful, stupid girl ran away.

“She ran away to live with the Muggles.”

He squeezed her hand. “That might have been the end of the story, but the stupid Witch made a bad mistake. When a Muggle fell in love with her, she allowed herself to return his affections. And to make things worse, she agreed to marry him. But she forgot, or because she was so stupid perhaps she didn’t know, that the Daily Prophet has a special spell set up that magically records all Wizard/Muggle weddings. And so when she married, the announcement automatically appeared in the paper.

“Of course the stupid Witch’s brother was mortified that she’d gone and ruined their pureblood family name. And the Uncle, not understanding Muggle ways, took a few weeks to track them down. But my uncle did find them. And Muggle authorities being rather dense, just didn’t know the difference between a Muggle falling dead of a heart attack or dying as the result of an Unforgivable. But the stupid Witch knew. And she got to live the rest of her life knowing that it was her love that had condemned to death the only man who had brought her any joy or happiness.”

Hermione pressed his hand, not certain whether or not to hate herself for putting him through this. Well, a know-it-all only gets that way by asking questions.

“What happened then?” she asked.

“Well, the stupid Witch found out she was pregnant--having been a bad Witch she hadn’t protected herself. And so she and her brother and her baby lived in the Muggle house in the Muggle neighborhood of her deceased husband. And one day the child grew old enough to be called to Hogwarts. And he left his mother and uncle with some relief because he was tired of the rows his uncle would put them through because his mother refused to sell the house.

“A few weeks into his fifth year, he was called down to St. Mungo’s. His mother was dying of a curse that her brother had cast. But the most amazing part was that she had managed to kill him with a curse of her own. She’d been a broken Witch all those years, so it was something of a miracle that she still had it in her to call forth a killing curse.

“I sat by her bedside as she lay dying. And she told me that the reason she refused to leave her husband’s house was that the two years she had been with my father were the only happy times in her entire life. And being in that house, she could always feel his presence.”

He stopped and she saw a tear head down his face and splash on his shirt.

“What happened then?”

“An angel of mercy came to me and tried to help, but I was a bad, stupid Wizard myself. And I didn’t know an angel when I saw one. She died.”

Another tear joined the first and then he was up on his feet. Hermione got to her feet, as well, wanting to shake one foot because it had gone all pins and needles. She tried to put her arms around him but he backed away from her. “Well, well—“ he sighed. “I forgot to put dinner on.”

“It’s all right,” Hermione said, a bit choked up. She removed a small pad of paper from her bag. “My dorm room number and phone. When you are feeling up to it, give me a ring.”

“Dorm room?” Sandy asked.

“Yes. I’m a mathematics student at the University here.” She gave a small smile, “we’ll be seeing each other, I’m sure.” She kissed him on the cheek, picked up her suitcase, which was now much lighter without the Pensieve and collected memories.

Sandy walked to the back door and looked out at the now moonlit beach and the sea beyond.

Hermione, careful not to disturb him, took her luggage out the front door and to the bus stop back to the city.

&&&

“Hello, Max’s Tiki Lounge,” said the slightly bored voice answering the telephone.

“Uh, yes, I’m trying to get a hold of Xander White, but he doesn’t have a phone number and I remember your lounge is near the bus stop.”

“Ah, I know you. You’re that little British girl who came to visit Sandy a few weeks back. This is Tomika. I waitress here. Let me give you the number for the Laundromat. It’s got a community message board for those of us who can’t afford phones.”

Hermione took down the number, “Thank you. How has he been?”

“Missing you I think. Oh, hey! You come out here this evening. We are having a big celebration. They’re finally getting around to building some low cost housing for us poor working stiffs. Real housing with electricity, not some shack with stupid generators and a roof that blows off with every big storm. You come out to the public beach tonight and join the fun.”

“How do you know he’ll be there?” Hermione was getting a scared. He hadn’t called her in the six weeks she’d been a student. But if he were involved with someone, would Tomika be asking her there?

“Oh, Sandy will be there. Anytime there’s free food you know Sandy will show up. He doesn’t say much, but he likes to be a part of things. And he loves his free food. He’s a man of appetite I can tell.”

Hermione, not liking the tone in her voice when she mentioned appetite, thanked her and hung up.

&&&

He sat on top of the picnic table. A plastic plate filled with salted roast pork with a helping of macaroni salad and rice was balanced on one knee and he had a plastic cup of beer next to him.

The sound system was playing something familiar, “Eh, Marcarena.” He recognized it but wasn’t sure where he’d heard it before. Oh, yes. Granger. He took another bite of the salad and realized he wasn’t very hungry.

He saw a familiar body over by the edge of the parking lot and watched her stride through the sand over to him. Hermione’s skin glittered in the light of the beach bonfire.

“Why haven’t you called me? I thought you wanted to see me?”

“And a pleasant evening to you, too, Miss Granger.” He smiled as something tightened in his chest. “Are you hungry?“

“Could you answer my question?”

“I do wish to see you. However, I have a new face, a new identity, and you are my only connection to that old place I left. Everyday I wake up and get to pretend that none of that was anything but a fantasy. And then I think of you.”

“I see. I’m an unpleasant reminder then.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “Have a lovely life.” She started to walk away from him and then she was running.

A small voice inside him said, ‘get going. She’s leaving. Go now, you idiot, while you can still catch up with her.’

She’d reached the end of the sand, where the pavement of the parking lot started.

He got to his feet and began running after her, “Hermione!”

She kept walking very fast. She was past the parking lot and on the road. He had a sudden fear that she’d Apparate. He sprinted.

And caught her arm.

Her face was wet with tears. Tears for him?

“I’m sorry. Potter was right. I’m a coward.”

“Severus—“

“No. Please--Sandy. My name’s Sandy, but that Snape fellow was also a real bastard and a wanker.”

“You don’t want to see me because I remind of all that you left.” There was a pain inside her, twisting around, worming itself upward, ready to strike at her heart.

“No. I don’t want to see you because I’ve only loved two women in my life and I lost them both. And I used to be able to blame others for that. But in the past few weeks, I’ve come to see things differently. I’m the one at fault. When the memories were returned to me, I could see very clearly how I’d lost Lily. I was being an immature, selfish pratt. I made James Potter look good in contrast.” He face twisted with pain.

“Furthermore, if I let myself love you, I’m just some dirty old man taking advantage of a young woman’s curiosity about sex. And I’m not looking for dalliances.”

She stared at him, letting his words sink in.

And then she reached up to kiss him. It was soft, warm kiss tasting of cheap American beer and Hermione had never tasted anything better.

He broke the kiss and stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. “I wanted to see you so much. You are young, intelligent, incredibly alluring and I am very much aware that there is nothing I could offer you.

“And you scare the hell out of me,” he grabbed her arms and brought her closer, pressing his lips hard on hers in a quick kiss. “You scare the hell out of me because any woman I’ve loved I’ve lost. And I don’t want to lose you--ever.”

Hermione trembled in his arms because her relief was so great.

“I feel the same way, Sandy. I’m not afraid of a commitment. I want you and no one else. It goes both ways, you know. You might only be friends with Tomika now, but give it time and it will change. I don’t want that to happen. Women look at you and they see a very handsome, eligible bachelor.” She stroked his arm, enjoying the sensation of his warm skin and the solid muscle underneath. She pressed her body closer to him and was rewarded by his moan as he took her mouth again. She felt his heart pounding against her.

“Can we head to your place?” asked Hermione.

“Yes. But to what purpose?”

“To make sure you know that I’m never, ever going to leave you. I am yours and I want to show that to you.”

He took her face in his hands and kissed her again. He wanted very much to believe her.


They walked briskly down the road and along the path that led to his shack. By the time they reached the door they were holding hands and quite breathless. He kissed her again while trying to open the door with a key in one hand.

“Alohomora,” said Hermione and the door swung open and they fell, with him on top. He continued kissing her for a few more minutes before pulling away.

“Am I going too fast for you?”

Hermione laughed. “No, not at all, but I do think the bed might be more comfortable.”

He helped her to her feet. “The place is a mess. I’m used to having house elves at Hogwarts do the work. Just keep your eyes shut.”

Hermione felt another attack of sheer giddiness. “Of course, I will.” She followed him into his bedroom. It was as bad a mess as any of the dorm rooms, but not much worse.

“Maybe Winky would come by?”

“Don’t you dare,” Sandy smiled and brought her close for another kiss. This time he took the liberty of stroking the side of one breast. He took off her blouse while still attempting to hold the kiss and Hermione was undoing the top of her jeans. Eventually they were naked together.

Hermione thought Sandy looked quite good with his tan, and the stark whiteness of his privates was a nice contrast. She reached out and touched him there, finding the small bead of moisture at the tip and rubbing it around the head of his penis.

Sandy’s reaction was immediate. He swung her onto the bed and himself on top of her. And then he stopped, “Contraceptive potion?”

“The pill, it’s a Muggle thing.”

“Good. And I hate to ask, but are you a virgin?”

Hermione shook her head.

“Oh, thank goodness. Virgins are always messy and then there’s the whole pain thing.”

“Well, I’m so glad to have accommodated you.”

Her sarcasm was lost on him as he occupied himself with one rosy pointed breast, licking it and pulling the nipple into his mouth. “That night we had together was amazing.”

“Would you like to be tied up again?”

“No, I just don’t find being tied up so alluring any more. You are so lovely, that I just want to shag you silly.” He was licking and kissing her ear lobe and then kissing her mouth.

Hermione nodded, and relaxed into the feel of his hardness pushing up and rubbing against her stomach. She ran her hand up and down over his shaft and he responded by moving his hips rhythmically.

“Oh, gods,” he moaned. He pressed his lips against her ear, “I want to be in you now.”

She rolled him under her and lifted her hips. With one hand she steadied his cock towards her entrance. Slowly she stroked his cockhead on her labia until it parted and he was inside. She let him slip deeper and deeper until he was right at her cervix. She began to bring herself back up but he took her arms and rolled on top of her.

“Sandy?”

“If you don’t like this just tell me to stop. But right now I want you like this.” He took her arms and held them over her head in effect pinning her. He grinned, “Code word: flobberworm.”

Hermione bit her lip trying not to laugh. With a barely straight face she said, “Yes, master.” And gasped as he thrust into her.

Within a few minutes her desire began to peak. She wriggled to escape his grip on her, but he kept her as secure as if he’d used cords. He fucked her hard with a steady rhythm, bringer her closer to the edge.

“Permission to cum, sir,” she whispered.

“Permission granted,” he picked up the pace, and sucked at the tender skin of her neck. She moaned as the first wave of her climax swelled in her.

She cried out as her body released and she was swept into her orgasm.

Sandy pushed himself into her harder and faster until his balls pulled up and he spent deep into her. One aftershock after another rippled through their joined bodies.

“Oh, Gods, I’ve thought about doing that,” he started to sob. Hermione touched the side of his face in wonderment.

“Don’t mind me. Some men fart after sex, I cry.”

“Well, if that’s the choice, I prefer crying. Shall I hold you?”

“Please.”


After a nap, Sandy was fixing sandwiches while Hermione nibbled on peanuts.

“Yes,” she said. “So one of my reasons for coming to this place is that any magical fauna or flora native to the islands here are completely unknown, uncategorized and unwritten about. The shamans were converted early on and Wizarding lore was completely lost over the past century.”

“And that is why I never heard of this place? Completely unexplored. I had noticed a few magical plants while giving tours. Image the new potions that could be created!” He opened a tin of spam and started slicing it. “And that is why you are here?”

“In part. When Professor McGonagall met with my parents she arranged for me to sit my N.E.W.T.s over the summer, thereby skipping my final year at Hogwarts and allowing me to begin school here for the Fall semester. They do have a really good Mathematics program and it’s very close to my favorite subject-Arithmancy.”

Sandy took her hand and kissed it. “Well, I’m glad you chose this place. I like it here. But it wouldn’t be paradise without you. And though I hate to be unromantic, especially on our first night together, there is a matter of the money I owe you. Not just the couple of hundred Quid from when I was on the run, but the medical bills.”

She took a deep breath. “My parents set up a savings account for my college education when I was born. When I applied here and received a full scholarship, they made the account over to me for my personal use.”

Hermione hesitated. “Sandy, there was also an award given to all of us who fought in the final battle. I felt that at least half of my share should go to you. It covered your clinic stay and surgery and you still have a few thousand dollars left.”

She reached out and took his hand, “After all, you are the one who destroyed Voldemort.”

“Well, it was a group effort. Now, let’s never speak of it again, shall we?”

He finished making the sandwiches.


The End


Many thanks to my reviewers: septentrion, firewall, Jen, Lyndie578, prettydelial, jkk, Sorceress Black, Ash, LittleBird and Killer Kadoogan.

Oh yeah, and there’s an epilogue.

Bonus chapter 16, “Wedding at the Weasleys” is also to come, but it’s not SS/HG so if you are a strict SS/HG shipper don’t bother reading it.