A Looping of the Scales ~ COMPLETED

Chapter 29 ~ Gifts of the Animagi

After penning a quick outline, Ron immediately went upstairs to the Headmistresses office to pre-certify his additional credit topic for the Transfiguration NEWTS. Unlike Hermione, Ron didn’t get many great topic ideas, and needed to protect his interests and lock in his topic first. That way, even if someone else did similar work for their NEWTS, Ron’s work would be recognized as being the first paper on that topic submitted. It didn’t mean he’d have the highest marks but he would get credit for introducing the subject matter first.

The title of his presentation was direct and simple enough:

Intent and Its Effect on the Animagus Transformation Timeline.

He handed the sealed envelope to the Headmistress. No one but the testers from the Ministry would open it and read his outline and the date it was submitted. The only bad part about it was once a paper was pre-certified, it could only cover what was outlined. No more and no less. So pre-certification was a way to protect your topic but very limiting. Hermione would never do it.

”Quite an interesting title, Mr. Weasley,” Minerva said with approval. We’ve had a few presentations of this nature, but nothing really new. Do you think you have something that can change that?”

”Maybe,” Ron said with a smile. “But telling you what it is would just ruin the surprise. Oh, and can I have a Ministry Animagus Registration Form?”

Minerva gasped.

”You’ve, you’ve found your form, Mr. Weasley? I wasn’t even aware that you had been trying. You must have been working on it from at least your fourth or fifth year. And through all of your adventures! Why didn’t you tell me? You would have gotten bonus points in class. All aspiring Animagi get that benefit.”

”I didn’t know that,” Ron said, not wanting to let her know how short a time it took him.

“Well, what is your form?” she pressed.

”Er—I’m going to keep it to myself for now, Headmistress. Hope you don’t mind,” the wizard said.

Minerva looked disappointed, but he did have ten days to register now that she knew he had an Animagus form.

”Very well, Mr. Weasley, but don’t let the registration date pass, or you will either pay a heavy fine, or cool your heels in the Ministry jail for a few days,” she said warningly, sliding the form over to him.

”Thanks,” Ron said, folding, then tucking the form into his pocket and leaving her office.

There. Now he had at least one good topic for a NEWT. Hermione wouldn’t have to stay on his back about this one. He was going to drive her crazy with it by not telling her what he was presenting, but how great it was. That ought to be fun or at least a little entertaining. Hermione hated being left out of any loop, no matter how small.

Ron returned to Gryffindor tower. Harry wasn’t back yet. More than likely he and Ginny were spending some quality time together. Ron pulled out a notepad and a Muggle pencil, sat down on his bed and tried to sketch an orangutan.

Ron never made an OWL in the Care of Magical Creatures class, and didn’t really focus when Hagrid was teaching the actual sketching of beasts. At his OWLS, he was supposed to draw a dragon based on an example provided for the students, which was actually a petrified dragon that got on the wrong end of a Gorgon.

Ron’s sketch didn’t look like a dragon. It looked more like a dog with a very long neck, and very much in need of a good dentist.

”What is this?” the tester had asked him.

His sketch of the orangutan was no better. He didn’t dare transform in case Harry was to walk in. More than likely he was going to have to get someone else to draw him. Hermione probably wouldn’t do it. She was too “busy” with Severus and her studies. But there were others who he could ask. Neville was a fair sketcher, and so was Lavender Brown.

Since reading about the animal, Ron felt a little better about his form. It was just seeing it for the first time that shocked him. Orangutans might be very intelligent, but they certainly didn’t look it.

Ron’s stomach gurgled. He felt hungry, and had a strong craving for a fruit salad.

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At nine that evening, Hermione showed up at Snape’s quarters and let herself in. The wizard had altered his ward to recognize her signature, so she could enter and leave as she wished. She was surprised to find him in his study. She thought he’d be out flying. He wasn’t. He was feeding a plant. It looked like a Venus Flytrap, but the head was huge, and the jagged edges around the seam looked quite hard. Snape was slapping it with the body of a dead rat he was holding by the tail.

”Open up you stupid plant,” he hissed at it. “I don’t have all night.”

“Severus? Is that a Hell’s Guardian?” she asked him.

Snape turned to look at her and grimaced.

”Yes, it is, and it’s living up to its name and giving me hell.”

”It’s huge. I’ve never seen one over one foot tall before.”

”I developed a special soil treatment in my third year, and by my fifth, I’d adapted it for carnivorous plants. It speeds growth and increases size. It helped me get an Outstanding in my OWL for Herbology,” he explained. He didn’t see the plant lean toward his leg and open its jaws, a substance like saliva, but thicker dripping down the jagged edges of its open maw. “The only problem with it is that the quality of the plants meant to be used for ingredients suffers because of the quick development. But it’s good for ornamental plants.”

”Severus! Look out!” Hermione yelled, and the wizard jumped out of the way just as the plant tried to take a bite out of him.

”Blasted thing! If I didn’t need it for my NEWTS, I’d chop it up right now,” he hissed, frowning at the plant, which straightened and managed to look quite disappointed for something that didn’t actually have a face. He held out the rat again, and the plant actually twisted away and upward as if sticking its nose in the air.

”Fine. Starve then. I’m going to plant another of you tomorrow,” Snape said to it. “I’ve got plenty of time before the NEWTS to grow another.”

Snape threw the dead rat into the fire in the fireplace, picked up a burlap sack that was resting on the floor, then wrestled it over the plant. He pointed his wand at the squirming cloth bag. .

”Portis,” he said, and the sack flashed blue and disappeared.

”Stupid plant,” he muttered.

”Where did you send it?” Hermione asked curiously.

Out to the Herbology center. Professor Sprout gave me a little space in exchange for some of my soil enhancing potion. She’s working on the plant potency issue. She says it could be a boon to ingredients production if tweaked.

”Severus, this soil-enhancing potion and that salve you made for Filch, you could make money from them,” Hermione said to him.

”Bartleby already has them and is working on the patents for me,” Snape informed her, “as well as several other original creations. I’m getting them all locked in before I sign on with Lord Malfoy. He won’t be recouping any money off of them.”

Hermione put down her knapsack.

”Lord Malfoy?” she repeated.

“Yes. He’s going to be my patron so I can pursue my experiments with potions,” Snape said.

”Your patron?” Hermione said, a little enviously. When she left school, she was going to have to work for a living. She would probably find employment in fields that she enjoyed, but it would be marvelous to have the time just to focus on whatever one wanted. “How did you manage that?”

”He approached me,” Snape said, picking up his robes from the sofa and putting them on. He didn’t use the charm, but started buttoning them by hand. He found he enjoyed the slow, methodical closing of the fabric around him. He was filling out, too. Without the Marauders around to upset his digestion, he was eating more. He was still lean, but he was putting on pounds.

”Well, you did save Draco,” she said to him. “He probably feels he owes you.”

”Perhaps, but Malfoy is a Slytherin. He smells money. He said the first time around I used my abilities for Tom Riddle for next to nothing, but I was provided with everything I needed to develop my skills. Malfoy wants to do the same thing, but make a profit. It’s a win-win situation really. Or will be once my solicitor has the terms drawn up.”

Hermione was very interested.

”What else is he giving you?” she asked.

Snape continued buttoning his robes.

”Room, board, that kind of thing,” he said.

”Will you be staying at his manor?” Hermione asked him.

Snape shook his head.

”No. I don’t feel like being watched twenty-four hours a day, or even seeing him too much if I can help it. Just because he’s giving me a leg up doesn’t mean he can hover over me like he owns me. No one owns me,” Snape said a bit tightly.

Hermione couldn’t help thinking that if Severus had another way to get by and learn his art, he’d do it. It was a marvelous situation, but there were limiting conditions.

”Still, it’s a wonderful opportunity, Severus. A lot of people would give a limb to have your situation, including me,” she said softly.

Snape finished buttoning his robes and looked at her. He was about to reply to her, but suddenly stiffened, a perplexed look on his face.

Hermione looked down at herself to see if anything was wrong. She couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She looked up at him.

”What’s wrong?”

Snape stood there, and she noticed his nostrils pulsating. It wasn’t that hard to miss actually, because he had rather large nostrils when you paid attention to them.

”I can smell you,” he said.

”Smell me?”

”Yes.”

Hermione blinked at him.

”What do I smell like?”

Snape slowly walked toward her and stopped about a foot away, sniffing. Then, he slowly walked around her. Hermione stood very still, feeling a bit of queasiness in her belly as he invaded her personal space, inhaling her scent, his eyes closing from time to time. His face was very close to hers now and she could feel his warmth as he scented her. Then he straightened.

”You smell of several things. Soap. Parchment. Leather. Ink,” he said softly, “and something else I can’t identify, but, it changed when I moved closer to you. The scent intensified. The best way I can explain it is how the smell of ingredients become a bit—sharper when the flame is turned up under them.”

Hermione swallowed. What an analogy.

”It’s getting sharper,” he said. “It’s—it’s very compelling. Very—female. That’s what it is—female.”

”We need to get to work, Severus. We’re wasting time,” she said softly, turning to walk to the desk, but Snape gently caught her arm.

”Are we really, Hermione?” he asked her, drawing her back to him, his dark eyes intense as they rested on her mouth.

Hermione’s heart began to race as he closed his eyes and inhaled again. Then his eyes opened again, a question in them now.

”Do I turn up a flame under you, Hermione Granger?” he asked with a hint of the silkiness of his older self’s beautiful voice.

Hermione felt as if she couldn’t breathe, he was so intense, so close—so---

“Do I?”

”Stop,” Hermione said weakly. “I’ve just broken up with Ron and—“

”Ron has nothing to do with this,” Snape replied. “I can smell your attraction to me. I think this explains why Potter and his cronies could always find me. They were Animagi and knew my scent—knew it the way I now know yours—“

”Don’t” Hermione breathed.

”Kiss me,” Snape said softly. “It’s all over you. The desire to do it. And it’s all over me. I won’t force you but I’m asking you to do it—because it’s what you want. I want it, too. Don’t be afraid—“

Snape drew her closer, holding her against him lightly. He was gentle, his lips pursed.

”Do it, Hermione,” he breathed at her.

Hermione’s eyes were frightened as she looked at him. She wasn’t afraid of him, exactly, but what it would mean if she did kiss him, and more, what it could lead to. She was never this—easy. But he was right. She wanted to kiss him. But—

“No! No! I can’t—why are you doing this to me? We have something good here—uncomplicated—“ she gasped, pulling back from him. He gave her some leeway but didn’t let her go.

”It’s always been complicated, Hermione,” he said softly. “From the day my life changed and I lost everything I knew, you’ve been here. It hasn’t been that long time-wise—a week or two at the most--I know. But these have been the best days of my life, and without you—adjusting would have been that much harder—without you, I would have been lost. How do you think that makes me feel about you? Yes, it’s complicated, and I’m sorry—but it is what it is and what’s happening is happening—“

He inhaled her scent again.

”It’s—just nature, Hermione, No one, not even Lily, showed me the understanding and support you do. I’m not used to this feeling, and I don’t want to lose it—I want—I want to get closer to it, to embrace it, to feel it wrap around me—“

There was such longing in his voice, such need, such—honesty. But--

Suddenly, Hermione pulled away from him.

”I can’t kiss you—I can’t let this happen. My work—“

”You’ll do your work. It won’t suffer—everything would be the same—“

”Not everything—“ Hermione said softly.

”No, not everything,” he agreed, “but some things. I’m not asking you to change anything about who you are, or what you do, or even what you want out of life, Hermione. I’m simply asking you to act on what you’re feeling at this moment. Just this moment. Not tomorrow, or next week, or next month—just right now. All I want—is right now. Please.”

Hermione looked into the wizard’s eyes and saw the desire and hope inside him reflected back at her, and at that moment, they connected. She felt him, really felt him. He was magnetic, the positive to her negative, the yang to her yin. There was no way to stop this moment.

Everything seemed to slow and warp around Hermione as she stepped into the wizard’s gentle embrace, her lips meeting his.

It was as if the world had suddenly—stopped.

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A/N: Thanks for reading.