It Happened One Hallow's Eve

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 22 ~ The Morning After

Crookshanks lay in the boughs of the Whomping Willow, delicately spitting out as much fur as possible of the field mouse he’d caught and consumed. Crookshanks was a half-kneazle with subtle delusions of great grandeur, hauling his prey into the tree like a larger cat, such as a leopard would do. Thank wands he could hunt…if he waited for Hermione to feed him lately, he’d be just skin and bones.

Ah well, he could smell the scent of desire on her almost constantly. Some young wizard had her tail in a knot. He knew it was coming. He scratched his claws over the limb he was lying on lightly, and the willow shuddered with pleasure. They got along.

This rather strange association started in Hermione's third year, when Crookshanks learned the secret of pressing a knot at the base of the tree’s trunk to keep it from bashing. The familiar began visiting the tree frequently, streaking under its flailing boughs and pressing the knot with his paws, then climbing up and using the tree as a vantage point. The Whomping Willow was very protective of its territory, but soon became used to the cat’s presence. Crookshanks wasn’t doing any harm and had a delightful way of digging his claws into the bark in a manner that obviously gave the tree pleasure. One day the cat approached and the tree made no effort to bash him. Cautiously, Crookshanks climbed up on a branch, very watchful of the smaller, more supple limbs, lest one should grab him and strangle him. A limb did approach slowly and non-threateningly, and scratched the orange cat behind the ears. An instant friendship was born.

Crookshanks watched a group of first-years fly shakily around the castle led by Madam Hooch. There had been marked improvement, but still a few plummeted toward the earth, Madam Hooch streaking after them. The cat flicked an ear, his expression bored. Suddenly he heard the crack of apparition and looked toward the gate. Draco Malfoy and his father Lucius stood there, the senior talking to his son.

“Remember, Draco…your role is important. You must unward the gates the night of the third so our ranks can overrun Hogwarts,” Lucius said to his son.

Draco’s gray eyes met his father’s.

“Why me? Why can’t Professor Snape be the one to do it, Father? I don’t want to be the one,” the boy said. Suddenly Lucius backhanded him, hitting him so hard Draco stumbled sideways.

“It is a great honor that the Dark Lord chose you to unward the gates. You will not bring shame and death on our household. You will unward the gates as directed…or else, I swear to the gods I’ll kill you myself,” Lucius said, his face twisted in fury. “Voldemort will kill us all if you fail. Me, your mother, your baby sister…everyone. You will do as you are told!”

Draco straightened, his hand held to his cheek.

“Yes, father,” he said sullenly, turning and unwarding the gates and entering the grounds, warding the gates back.

Lucius stared at his son. What a disappointment he was. Draco should have been proud to have been chosen to be the one to betray Hogwarts and Dumbledore. They had all worked toward this for years. The Dark Lord would kill Harry Potter, and every living creature at Hogwarts. The children of Death Eaters would not return on the third, but those Slytherins whose parents were not followers of Voldemort were also slated for death. Voldemort only wanted loyal purebloods.

One thousand Death Eaters would be disillusioned and waiting outside the Ministry for the Aurors who would automatically be made aware of the attack on Hogwarts when Unforgivables were used. They could not disapparate inside the building and had to come outside, where they would be ambushed. The Death Eaters would then take the building and kill the Minister, his Council and anyone else on the premises. They were to take no prisoners.

With Hogwarts and the Ministry under his control, Albus and the current administration dead and no one in authority, Voldemort would be in a better position to take power, claiming a coup and making a show of restoring order. His first act would be to require registration of wands, his purpose being to confiscate them gaining access by saying it would take a day to process each wand. It would be considered a crime not to produce a wand and his Death Eaters would go door to door collecting them, bullying wizards and witches into handing them over. When the population was without power, then the true horror and exterminations would begin.

Draco walked across the grounds, very troubled. He had taken the Mark because it was expected of him, and had witnessed but not participated in a Dark Revel. He had thrown up, and his father had been livid at the embarrassment. His son was supposed to be stronger than that and he punished the boy severely when he brought him home, caning his back unmercifully until blood ran.

Draco believed that the wizarding world would be completely destroyed if Voldemort came into power. There would be nothing but death, destruction and pain. And his would be the hands that brought it on…every lost life would be on his head. Draco was not a particularly sensitive wizard, but he did feel guilt…and the weight of it was already hanging over him. How could he do this and live with himself?

Draco stopped in front of the castle, staring up at it. This had been his true home for the past seven years. Life at the manor was harsh because of his father always pushing him, making demands of him…beating him. Only at Hogwarts did he feel safe. And now he was expected to let his father and Voldemort ruin the one safe haven he’d had over the years.

Draco scowled.

No. No. It wouldn’t happen. He wouldn’t help destroy the wizarding world. It wasn’t perfect, yes there were too many damned mud-bloods, but it was a whole site better than what it would be if the Dark Lord ruled.

The blonde wizard began to walk purposely toward the castle.

He needed to talk to Dumbledore.

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Severus awoke with his arms around Hermione, the witch’s back pulled into his chest. She was still asleep. He noticed the dried tears on her cheeks and his eyes went a bit hot as he remembered the rest of their night.

He had taken Hermione four more times, and lost it completely the third time, having to stop himself as the witch begged him to get off her. Luckily, his onslaught hadn’t lasted long and he held the sobbing witch close, apologizing for losing control but subtly blaming her for his ardor.

“You told me you wanted to find out what I was like, Hermione,” he said to her softly, kissing her temple and rocking her in his arms like a child. “You are so alluring, so delicious…I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to climb inside you, witch.”

He calmed Hermione, and let her rest for a while before he took her one final time. She was stiff, and he spent a long time kissing and caressing her before he entered her again. The Potions Master made slow, gentle love to the witch and she responded to his tenderness, her passion for him returning. It had been the best out of all of their engagements. It would be sometime before the wizard let loose on her full force again. Hermione just wasn’t ready for it, though she was strong.

His stomach gurgled loudly and Hermione’s eyelids fluttered, the sound waking her. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“Good morning,” he said to the witch.

“Good morning, Severus,” Hermione replied.

She shifted, then grimaced. Every muscle in her body was as sore as if she’d run a marathon without proper preparation, not to mention the inner ache. It wasn’t so delicious now. But Severus was prepared for this. He had healing potions, pain potions and replenishing potions in his nightstand drawer. He had retrieved them from his stores while the witch slept after their third go-round.

“You look as if you could use a bit of relief,” he said softly, his dark eyes sweeping over her body as he became aware of his morning erection. But this wasn’t a piss erection. It was definitely a pussy erection.

Hermione’s eyes drifted down his body and widened as she saw his erection. Her amber eyes shot back up to his. The wizard was smirking at her. She thought he meant sexual relief.

“I’m…I’m extremely satisfied Severus,” the witch said, not wanting to seem as if she were denying him. Severus chuckled and kissed her lightly, his eyes full of mirth.

“Not to worry witch. I always wake up this way. Most men do. It has to do more with my plumbing than my desire for you,” he lied. “I need to use the loo.”

Hermione let out a big sigh of relief.

“Thank Merlin,” she breathed.

Severus sat up and caught her arm.

“Come on, up with you,” he said, helping Hermione sit up. The witch gasped.

“I guess it will be some time before you crave me again, witch,” he said to her, reaching for the nightstand and opening the drawer.

Hermione looked at him.

“Maybe sex-wise, but I’ll still want your kisses,” she said softly, “Your touch. Your company.”

Severus shifted and sat on the edge of the bed, taking out the slew of potions. He opened one and offered it to her.

“Let’s fix you up,” he said as Hermione gratefully took the pain potion from him.

After several potions and minutes, Hermione felt much better. There was only a little ache, and it was delicious again. A reminder of what they had shared the night before. Hermione took a moment to tap her inner thigh and check her contraceptive patch. Yes, it was still glowing green. It was fine.

Suddenly her stomach growled.

“Gods, I’m hungry,” she complained, bringing her hand to her belly.

Severus looked at the clock. They had missed breakfast…it was after ten.

The wizard stood up, Hermione admiring his long, lean body and blushing slightly as she remembered the way that body had possessed her. He turned to face her, his erection pointed straight at the witch. It was impressive to say the least. Hermione could hardly believe she took him as she did. She felt a little pulse at the thought of it, her eyes going a bit misty. Severus looked at her knowingly, but said nothing about the look she gave him.

“I will order something from the kitchen, then we can eat and shower afterwards. You’ll use my floo to go to Gryffindor tower,” he said, his dark eyes resting on her. “I am going to key it to you, so you may enter my rooms at any time you wish.”

Hermione stared at him in disbelief.

“But Severus, I know how much you value your privacy,” she said, “I don’t want to impose.”

“I value my privacy, but I value you more. I believe you’ll know when I truly need to be alone and act accordingly,” the wizard said, looking at the witch soberly. He knew Hermione valued her privacy too, and needed alone time. The situation on Hallow’s Eve showed that. She would be no trouble. “You may also use my library, but don’t lose any of my books.”

Hermione smiled at him brightly.

“Your library? Oh Severus!” she gushed, leaping off the bed and into his arms, kissing him passionately.

“Watch it, witch,” he growled against her mouth, “Or your mouth might start something your pussy will have to finish.”

Hermione quickly let the wizard go.

Severus’ dark eyes glittered at her.

“Now witch, what do you want for breakfast?” he asked, walking toward the loo.

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Hermione and Severus had just finished dressing when a voice sounded from the study. It was Albus’ voice.

“Severus. Severus I need you to come to my office immediately,” the Headmaster said, urgency in his voice. Severus strode into the study.

“I will be there immediately, Headmaster,” he replied. Then he turned to Hermione.

“I have to go. By the way Albus sounds, something very important is occurring. I will see you either at lunch or supper,” he said to the witch, walking over and kissing her gently. He then walked up to the floo, grabbed some powder out of a box on the mantle and tossed it into the flame.

“The Headmaster’s office,” Severus said, stepping through.

Hermione sighed. It seemed the night was over. She walked up to the floo and took some powder out of the box. She threw it into the flames.

“Gryffindor Tower,” she said softly.

The flames turned green with a “foomph” and Hermione took one last look at the study, then stepped through.

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Severus walked out of Albus’ floo. The wizard was sitting at his desk looking quite solemn, his normally twinkling blue eyes dark and foreboding.

“What is it, Albus?” Severus asked, walking around the armchair. He stopped as he saw Draco sitting there, who looked up at him, his gray eyes glistening.

“Sit down, Severus,” Albus said darkly, gesturing toward the other armchair, “Mr. Malfoy has something very important to share with you.”

Severus sat down and leveled his eyes on the young wizard. He didn’t look too well. His face was bruised on one cheek and his complexion pale and drawn. Something was going on. Something important.

“What is it, Draco?” he asked.

He hoped it wasn’t bad news, but judging by Albus’ demeanor…it was.

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A/N: Welcome back Crookshanks. Very cool he can hang out with the whomping willow. It seems Severus and Hermione had quite the night. Poor Draco. He’s not all bad is he? Now…what will happen? We’ll see. Please review this chapter.