#7 ~ The Ghost and Lady Snape

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR (except Marcus Delaluci). All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 23 ~ Entering the Astral Realm

When Severus and Hermione arrived at the room of requirement, Albus, Marcus and Peeves were waiting for them. Marcus was seated on a divan, drinking a glass of water. Albus was the picture of calm, sitting in the comfy armchair and leafing through a magazine. Peeves was floating about wringing his hands and looking absolutely terrified. He was chanting to himself.

“I can do this. I can do this. I can do this,” the poltergeist repeated under his breath, over and over. Finally Marcus looked at him.

“You can do this, Peeves, now shut the fuck up!” he said irritatedly. His nerves were beginning to show. Marcus looked over at Severus and Hermione and the bundle Severus carried. His eyes telescoped slightly.

Severus handed the bundle to Albus, who stood up.

“The largest amount goes to Marcus, the smallest to Hermione. I will drink the one in the middle,” he instructed the Headmaster who nodded.

Hermione wordlessly jumped on the middle divan and sat back, extending her legs. Marcus did likewise, as did Severus.

“Marcus, you drink yours first, then I will follow, then Hermione. After you drink, lie down on the divan and wait for the potion to take effect. If you find yourself outside the body before the rest of us, just wait. We need to be together before we take any action,” Severus said.

The Potions Master poured himself a glass of water, and drank it down. He looked at his wife. Hermione was looking a little pale.

“Drink some water, to keep your body hydrated,” Severus said to her.

Mechanically, Hermione poured a glass of water and slowly drank it. When done, she set the glass on the table, and looked at Dumbledore, who walked over to Marcus and handed him the first blue bottle. The blonde wizard looked at it a moment, then looked at Severus, who nodded slightly. He uncorked the bottle, tilted it against his lips and swallowed, making an awful face as he did.

“Gods, Snape! Couldn’t you have added some sweetener or something?” Marcus complained, working his tongue as if trying to get the taste out of his mouth. Hermione smirked, enjoying the wizard’s discomfort.

Severus shrugged. “Bitter herbs, bitter taste, Mr. Delaluci,” he replied, smirking a bit himself.

Marcus gave a final grimace and lay down on the divan.

Dumbledore gave the next blue bottle to Severus, who opened it and drank it down without comment. He smiled at Hermione, who looked at him with wide eyes, and laid back on the divan, closing his eyes.

Dumbledore gave Hermione the last blue bottle. Trying to emulate Severus, she uncorked it and drank the bitter brew down. Marcus was right. It was absolutely horrible. She fought back a grimace, but Marcus grinned at her anyway. It was easy to see she didn’t like it either. Hermione glowered at him, then lay back on the divan, closing her eyes and telling her tense body to relax.

At first, she felt nothing, and wondered if the potion was brewed correctly. She opened her eyes and glanced over at Severus, who lay unmoving, except for the rise and fall of his breathing. She turned her head and looked at Marcus. The wizard had not closed his eyes, but there was a glazed quality about them, as if he were not all there, but looking at something intently, far away.

She closed her eyes again and breathed deeply. Suddenly she felt woozy, as if intoxicated, but having all her facilities. She tried to open her eyes but found she couldn’t. Her body was becoming impossibly heavy and it was hard to breathe. The pressure was terrible. She felt as if she were being crushed and started to panic, which did her no good. She couldn’t move her limbs. She was being pressed down, down, down…

Suddenly she flew upward, and felt ill from the rush. She had the distinct impression that she was…bouncing. Off of something above her. She opened her eyes and found herself face to face with the ceiling, bouncing like a balloon against it. As soon as she was aware of it, she began to descend slowly until her feet hit the floor. She looked around, she was still in the room of requirement, but it looked different. Everything was reversed like a mirror image, and slightly grayed out. Dumbledore stood at the head of her divan, watching them intently. He was surrounded by a faint white light, an aura.

Suddenly she was aware of Marcus standing in front of his divan, looking around curiously. He was very faint, but becoming more solid. She looked to her right, and Severus was also standing in front of his divan, solidifying. He looked at her with a sober expression. As they became denser, Hermione was aware of a thin cord coming out of her navel…wait…navel? She looked down at herself. She was naked. She screamed and tried to cover herself.

On her left, Marcus was leering at her with a wide lecherous grin. He was naked too. Hermione was determined not to look any lower than chest level. Severus was nude too, and clasped his hand to his forehead, massaging it in response to his wife’s reaction.

“Well, well,” said Marcus, grinning at Hermione. “Now isn’t this an interesting development!”

“Shut up, Marcus!” she snapped. Peeves bobbed down in front of her, making his eyes pop out of his head with a broad, evil smile.

“Ooh. I see your goodies!” the poltergeist said. Hermione took a swing at the spirit, and he soared back a bit.

“Peeves, why didn’t you tell us we’d be naked?” Hermione yelled at the poltergeist as both Severus and Marcus looked on, amused.

The poltergeist rubbed his chin for a moment, then said, “It must have slipped my mind. I was under a lot of pressure, you know.”

Hermione scowled at him. “You knew this was going to happen!” she accused.

“Aw, don’t get your boobies in a twist,” Peeves said, “It will only last until the plane forms, then you can make some clothes.’

Hermione considered this. Ok, how long could that take? She turned around and looked at her body lying on the divan. She looked as if she were in a deep sleep. The thin cord from her navel appeared to be attached to her body beneath the robes in the same area. So, astral projection was true. She was aware of the room of requirement taking on a glow, and fading as a kind of mist filled the room.

“Get close!” Severus said, walking to stand next to Hermione. Marcus closed in on the other side. Peeves drifted closer as well so he would remain visible. The mist began to glitter, and soon they could make out colors. These colors became more vibrant and confusing as they boiled over each other.

“It will clear soon,” Peeves voice called from the midst of the Technicolor cloud.

“Hold on to each other,” Severus said, taking Hermione’s arm. Marcus also slipped his arm through hers. Hermione’s first reaction was to pull back from the wizard, but his grasp on her arm felt protective, rather than his making physical contact for its own sake. She could sense that he didn’t really care that she was naked. He was focused on what they came to do. She relaxed.

Contact with Severus was comforting. He felt warm and alive, very solid. The three of them stood in the fog for what seemed like hours before it began to pull away, and a blackness like the night sky surrounded them, the multi-colored cloud at the very edge of their vision. Hermione became aware of noises. Screams. Growls. Laughter. Sounds like bells ringing and glass breaking. She could make out forms barely covered by the mist, frightening hulky things, smallish bodies too. But they didn’t step out into plain sight. Not yet, anyway.

Small clouds formed, or what she thought were clouds at first, but they appeared to be spirits soaring past, or hovering. They were all shapes and sizes, most without legs, having flame-like lower extremities. They were semi-transparent. Some drifted closer, curious. Peeves shuddered.

“I don’t like this place,” he said again, flitting nervously side-to-side.

Hermione looked down at her naked body. She closed her eyes and imagined robes. She felt a kind of fuzzing of her body. She opened her eyes and was indeed dressed in a black robe.

“We can make things now, “ she informed the two wizards on her arms.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Marcus, “I was kind of enjoying the idea of running around in the buff.”

Hermione frowned at him, pulling her arm out of his.

“Go ahead, then. Maybe one of these beasties will latch on to ‘little Marcus’ and all womankind will finally be safe from your lechery,” she responded, grinning wickedly at the thought of it.

Marcus fuzzed out. When his lines returned, he was in a form fitting white t-shirt, blue jeans and white trainers.

“Can’t deprive womankind of ‘big Marcus’ can we?” he said, smirking at Hermione.

She snorted and turned to Severus, who was dressed in his trademark black robes. She was about to say something to him when a particularly vicious growl tore through the cloudbank, which incidentally seemed to be moving closer. She clutched Severus’ arm.

“I think we should start working on forming some weapons,” she said softly, staring wide-eyed at the approaching Technicolor cloud.

“Yes,” Severus said. There was a clinking noise. Both of them turned to see Marcus, now wearing a chain mail shirt over his t-shirt. It glowed slightly. He patted it.

“Protection,” he said shortly, “I suggest you make something similar.”

Hermione inspected his chain mail, and decided it wasn’t too bad. She concentrated and changed from robes to the clothing she normally wore when practicing martial arts, a t-shirt, sweats and trainers. Then she too created a chain mail shirt, but definitely more contoured to her shape. Severus looked at her approvingly. It was pretty hot looking, especially the plates that covered her breasts.

Severus also changed to his practice clothing, a black t-shirt, black sweats, and black trainers. He also had his long hair tied back in a ponytail. Hermione looked at him, and suddenly, they both began to glow with a white light. The approaching cloud receded a bit, and howls emitted from it.

Marcus looked at the retreating cloud and nodded with approval, then turned to the couple.

“Keep that love-light shining,” he said, “I don’t care if you have to fuck in front of me…though it wouldn’t be the first time if you did.”

Hermione wanted to kick him in the balls so badly, her foot trembled. Severus just ignored him and took both of Hermione’s hands.

“The sword,” he said, “concentrate.”

Just as they were about to create the sword, a terrible clunking sound came from behind them. All three turned, and there was Peeves, in full armor, a large visor wrapped around his huge head. He lifted it noisily and peered out at them.

“Peeves needs protection too,” he said, letting the visor fall back down.

Severus shook his head and tightened his grip on Hermione’s hands. “Now, concentrate,” he said. Husband and wife closed their eyes, and the light around them intensified. Marcus shaded his violet eyes as he watched them.

A bit of the glow broke off and floated down to rest on their clasped hands. The light lengthened, and flashed, leaving a gleaming, double-edged sword, with a bronze handle. The blade glowed slightly. They opened their eyes, and Severus clasped the sword by its hilt and raised it to get its heft.

“Light as a feather,” he said, amazed. He took a couple of swings with it, and smiled savagely.

“A good weapon,” he growled, “I’ll be sure to let Alistar get a close look at this.” He swung the sword in a powerful arc, spun and slashed downward as if battling a foe. Severus really liked swords. Hermione clasped his hand.

“Come on, I need a bow and a quiver of arrows. I want to try something. Imagine a quiver that never empties of arrows, ok?”

“Yes,” said Severus. He went to put his sword in his scabbard, but realized he didn’t have one. He offered it to Marcus.

“Hold this,” he said, passing it to the blonde wizard. Marcus made a few intricate passes with the glowing sword. “Nice,” he said.

Severus and Hermione concentrated again, the glow of their love intensifying. This time three pieces of glow broke off, and hovered before them, one elongating into an ivory bow, the next into a bronze quiver of golden tipped arrows, and the final bit of light formed a sword scabbard. The tips of the arrows emitted a soft white light.

Hermione plucked the bow and quiver out of the air, delighted. She slipped on the quiver and reached over her shoulder, extracting an arrow. She notched it to the bowstring and aimed into the cloud. She pulled back and fired it, straight and true, into the cloud.

“It’s wonderful!” she breathed, as Severus buckled the scabbard around his waist.

Marcus handed Severus the sword, which fit the scabbard perfectly.

The blonde wizard looked at Hermione and asked, “How good are you with that thing?”

Hermione smirked. “I made top marks in Archery, so pretty good.”

Marcus held out his hand, and concentrated. His hand fuzzed, and seemed to elongate length-wise. A scimitar formed. It was sharp and the blade curved wickedly, but it didn’t have a glow. Marcus made a few wide cuts with it, testing the weight in his hand.

“Hm, light, easy to swing…but no glow. Looks like I’m going to have to count on skill,” he said a bit condescendingly. Hermione bristled. Marcus was an ass, no matter what world he was in. Severus shook his head and looked over at the armored Peeves.

“All right, Peeves. We need to find Alistar,” he said.

The poltergeist blanched inside his armor. He hesitated.

Marcus glowered at him, and the poltergeist began to move forward, looking like he was scenting the air. He paused, then cringed.

“This way,” he said shortly, drifting toward the right. The cloudbank shifted also, still making a perimeter but not blocking their way.

“Strange effect,” Hermione mused. “The plane changes according to our personal perspective.”

“Be careful,” breathed Peeves, “They know we are moving. They will try to take one of us soon.”

Indeed, the cloudbank was literally full of oddly shaped shadows, and the growls and roars increased. As they walked, a shape formed and walked toward them, non-threateningly. It was a gray-haired old man, with a kindly face. He waved.

“Hermione!” he called. They stopped.

“Peeves,” hissed Hermione…is this the spirit of someone dead or one of those things?”

Peeves shrugged. “Peeves doesn’t know. It could be either.”

Hermione watched as the old man drew closer. She squinted. He looked like…like…her grandfather.

“Grandpa?” Hermione asked, taking a step forward. Her grandfather had died when she was nine years old. “Grandpa, is that you?”

“Sure is, cupcake,” the old man smiled, drawing closer, “what are you doing here? You aren’t dead are you?”

Severus and Marcus were tense. The Potions Master kept his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Hermione smiled. Cupcake had been his nickname for her. She had loved her grandfather dearly and his death had hit her hard. He was the first person she knew who died. She took another step forward.

“No, grandpa, I’m not dead. Just visiting,” she paused.

“What was my dog’s name?” she asked.

“Trixie, a little wire-haired terrier,” the old man answered, drawing closer.

Hermione smiled. This seemed to be her grandfather’s spirit.

Marcus nudged Severus.

“Look at his eyes,” the wizard said.

Severus did. Even though the old man was smiling, his eyes were dead. There was no emotion in them. He was less than ten feet away and Hermione was starting to walk toward him, a look of pleasure on her face.

“No, Hermione!” Severus cried, drawing his sword and rushing to intercept her. As he approached, the old man roared, his mouth stretching impossibly wide showing pink gums and snagged but large sharp teeth. The dead eyes came to life, turning to flame. The monster made to grab at Hermione, his arms elongating, claws extending from his fingertips. Severus pushed Hermione aside, ducked under the flailing arms and swung his sword viciously at the creature’s mid-section, cutting it in half. It roared again and then puffed away to nothingness. He turned to his wife who was sprawled on what passed for ground here.

“Are you all right, Hermione?” he asked, extending his hand.

She looked at him, dazed. “He knew the right answers, Severus. How did you know?”

Severus pulled her to her feet and embraced her. Their glow increased.

“I wasn’t sure. It was Marcus who knew something was wrong,” he said, looking at the blonde wizard, who wore a solemn expression.

“It was his eyes,” he said softly, “his eyes were all wrong. There should have been some emotion there at seeing his granddaughter again. There wasn’t.”

“Thank you, Marcus,” she said. The wizard shrugged.

“I have to try to keep you in one piece if we’re to beat Alistar,” he said, turning away.

“So now we know that when we are approached, the eyes will give away our enemies,” Severus said, releasing his wife, “We can also assume they can access our memories and tell us what they think we need to know to convince us of their reality. We have to be very careful.”

Peeves was behind them, trembling at the encounter.

“I told you there were evil things here,” he said.

“We handled it Peeves,” Marcus growled at him, “Let’s keep going.”

The poltergeist drifted slowly in front of them, leading the way.

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A/N; Ok, they are in the plane, they have their weapons. Onward to Alistar. Please review.