A Wizard's Debt

admire the different gem flowers.



“You said yes, do you need to say more?” I asked, pulling her close into me, needing the contact after reading the letter from my Mother.



“Probably. I’m quite happy with speechless at the moment.” She smiled, “I’m safe and content for now.” She said, snuggling into my hold.



“Why?” I asked, curious as to my fiancée’s thoughts. Merlin, I’m engaged… has Hell frozen over? Has Satan taken up ice skating? Do the snowballs and cats have a chance?



“I’m safe from the marriage law for a while – after your sneaky treatment with Draco and Oliver; I know that you’ll help me get around becoming pregnant for as long as the Ministry lacks the knowledge of muggle contraception. I don’t really want to be a teenage Mother.” She looked thoughtful for a moment, “Plus I already know you – sort of – I trust you entirely and respect you fully. We’re half way to a successful marriage with that.”



“And the other half?” I asked.



“Do you know me, trust me and respect me?” she smiled.



“Yes to the two latter, not really to the first.” I said, honesty is a good plan, I think? I am tired of lies, as a spy they become second nature, a second language even.



“Well, I think we should get to know each other, Severus.” She said, taking my hand in hers. She’s so small in comparison, tiny warm hands lost in mine.



“I think it is a good plan – come with me, we may as well get comfortable.” I said, flicking my wand to initiate the wards and silence the room; we don’t need to hear the angry shouts of her friends and adopted family.



***



“It is not much, but it has been home for a long time.” I said as we moved through into my rooms. “The lounge area.” I said shrugging at the small room; the small sofa, huge bookcase, desk in one corner, stone floor with a threadbare green rug, a few end tables and a painting of the Hogwarts crest above the fireplace, flanked by two embroidered Slytherin crests.



“It’s a bit dark in here. Is there more light?” she asked, browsing the bookcase in the dim light.



“Of course.” I said, flicking my wand to intensify the illumination in the room.



“Its grey.” She said, pointing out the obvious of the pale grey walls and stone floor. “So cold. You could do with a bit of colour in here.” She said, looking around and shivering.



“Hoot.” said Hermes from his perch.



“Oh, hello.” She said, moving over to the eagle owl that was a gift from Lucius for my thirty-fifth birthday. Gosh, I’m old.



“His name is Hermes, watch your fingers.” I warned as she moved to stroke his head; the bird angled his head, closing his eyes as she scratched him. “You avian mercenary, you won’t let me do that – you bite my fingers!”



“Why is he down here and not in the owlery?”



“I have no idea, he chose to live in here, he flies through the floo to hunt. He only spent one night in the owlery. He’s good company when he’s awake; he sits on the edge of my desk when I’m marking work and hoots at me. I find myself holding frequent conversations with him. One-sided of course, I would deliver myself to saint Mungo’s if he spoke back.” Wonderful, Severus – she now thinks you are mad. Congratulations on making yourself look a fool.



“I used to talk to Crookshanks, he’s with my parents in Australia; I wanted something of me to go with them. I miss him, he was my familiar.” She said, combing her slim fingers through Hermes’s wings as he flaunted his impressive wing span.



“Hermes has never been more than a pet and post-bird; perhaps he has adopted you as his witch in the absence of your own familiar… You’ll be there all night now, once he gets you scratching him he doesn’t let you stop.” I motioned to the two other doors leading off the chamber, “Shall we continue the tour, much as it is?”



“Yes. I’ll be back soon, Hermes, don’t sulk.” She said as the owl clamped his wings shut and sunk with a shuffle as he sat on his perch.



“Hoot.” he turned his head away and shuffled to the far end of his stand.



“You need to work on your manners, birdie.” I said, opening the bathroom door. “The bathroom – as you have no doubt guessed.”



“I think I’m in love with that tub.” She said, looking into the white marble creation that took up two thirds of the room and was deep enough that I could sit down and have the water reach my chin.



“There are many jets that are good for massaging sore muscles.” I said, remembering the number of times I’d tried to relax in the bath after a mission for either side in the war.



“Yes, I’m in love… erm, can I change one thing?” she asked, rolling her wand between the thumb and forefinger of each hand.



“I do not see why not.” Will I regret this? Oh I hope not.



“effingo” she said, and I watched as another sink, mirror and bathroom cabinet appeared next to the original. “His and her’s sinks – something my Mum swore by; my parents used to argue over how they squeezed the toothpaste from the tube; Dad squeezed the middle, Mum squeezed the end. Mum hated how Dad would shave and not rinse the sink properly. Dad moaned that the handsoap was too girly… a double sink stopped them arguing over hygiene on a morning.”



“I can see how that would be a simple solution to the problem.” I said, liking and understanding her reasoning. Lucius and Narcissa had gone as far as to having separate bathrooms because the other’s bathing habits drove them mad. “The window isn’t real, we’re under the lake; but it does show a real picture of the Hogwart’s grounds and the weather outside – as do the other windows in my, our, rooms.”



“Like at the ministry.”



“Indeed.” I replied, offering my arm as we left the bathroom, “The bedroom – you may wish to reproduce the wardrobe also for your own clothing.”



“I only actually have a few outfits – I need to go shopping, but I hate it. I’ll see if Molly and Ginny want to go at some time this week.” She said shrugging and slowly walking around the room, stopping to admire the tropical fish tank opposite the bed.



“You could go to York, I’ll introduce you to Marcia, you could take your sketch books.” I noticed her peering around the side of the tank to look at the skittish catfish.



“He’s nocturnal; such a shame, he’s a stunning specimen. You can feed them while you’re there, if you like.” I said, watching as she picked up the tub of flakes and sprinkled in two pinches.”



“They’re so colourful, and really relaxing to watch.” She said, sitting on the bed and admiring them as they fed.



“It is one reason they are opposite the bed, I watch them when I cannot sleep and on a weekend morning when I don’t have to get out of bed to teach.” I said, looking at my ‘tank calendar’ and noting that one of the filters needed to be changed this week. The tank was muggle, but the filers ran on magic rather than electricity.



“My dad had fish, but they were koi, rather than tropical. He had a huge tank, rather than a pond; a local heron ate most of them, so the pond just became a water garden with lilies, and the fish that were left moved inside.” She said, taking the opportunity to look at the rest of the room.



“A clever idea. Hermes has attempted to remove the lid to get to the fish.” I said, smiling at the memory of the owl’s attempt at opening the lid.



She stood and admired the king size four poster hung with simple neutral drapes and made with dark blue sheets and coverings. “This bed is huge.” She said quietly and wide-eyed.



“I am six-feet five, a small bed tends to leave me with cold feet.” I said, understanding her fear but not commenting on it.



“I’m a bit nervous about… well about s-sleeping in here, and s-sleeping with you in it. Erm…”



“You have no need to fear me; I would never hurt you. I’m no innocent, but I am relatively inexperienced when it comes to having an equal in bed rather than… shall we say, something less equal? I am actually looking forward to learning how to pleasure you. I have been informed that a healthy sex life keeps a marriage fresh.” Was that too much information? Did she need to know that my sexual experiences have been with women of a horizontal occupation – and not very often?



“Eeep.” She said in reply.



“Not quite the reaction I thought I would get.” I chuckled, offering my arm before moving back into the lounge.



“Take a seat, Hermione, lets get to know each other. Can I get you a drink?” I asked, calling for a house elf.



“Erm, just water please.” She said.



“Fappy, A jug of apple juice and water with ice and lemon, please.” I said, watching as the elf popped away and a silver tray containing the requested beverages and glasses appeared on the side table.



“Hoot.” Hermes chirped, moving to sit on the arm of the sofa for more scratching.



“Where do we start?” she said, pausing to speak to me and earning a careful nip from the owl.



“Don’t. You. Dare.” She said to the bird, closing his beak with her fingers and gently shaking his head from side to side, “You will not behave like that! It is my choice to stroke you and scratch your head, and if I stop you will not bite me!” she said firmly, the great bird’s fussing ending as she told him off. Once she released his beak he flew to her knees and rubbed his head against her chest in apology. “Apology accepted. Don’t do it again.” She chided.



Hermes flapped to the sofa arm before climbing it and sitting on the back and walking to sit behind me.



“What’s he doing?” she asked, looking puzzled before she watched Hermes bury his beak in my hair and start preening me. “Ah! Mutual grooming. Hedwig used to do the same to Harry.”



“Its quite a strange feeling, but it keeps him happy.” I said as Hermes hooted in answer.



“What do you want to talk about?” she asked.



“You. I’d like to know more about the woman I am marrying.”



“Where do I start?” she asked, tucking her still bare feet under herself and settling back on the sofa.



“The beginning…” I said, sipping at my glass of apple juice as she gave me a verbal autobiography; Hermes’s rhythmic tugs soothing me.