100 Ways to Kill a Weasley

Amanita



by Lisa Jean



~~~Two Years After the Final Battle~~~



Hermione Granger sat in her office at the Ministry of Magic, patiently listening to Severus Snape. It was a pleasant surprise to find him a live at the end of the battle and much to Ron’s chagrin, she and Harry made it their next mission to clear his name. They were surprisingly successful. So much so that the reclusive man had to leave the country to get some piece and quiet.



Thus, she sat in her small cupboard-sized office in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. In two years, she’d been shifted around the department and her only major accomplishment was a small bit of unpublished legislation proclaiming that if a house-elf desired freedom and specifically asked for it, it must be granted. However, current employment of said elf including housing and wages were left to the owning family. Needless to say, not many house-elves had been freed.



Listening to Snape’s diatribe of his adventures, and her lack thereof, was at least more interesting than rubber-stamping goblin and centaur complaints.



He had been rambling on about a small magical tribe he found a supposedly uninhabited island and more importantly some rare fungi and moss that grew on this island which appeared stronger and more useful than their continental counterparts.



“Well, do you want to go?” He growled at her.



She looked bewildered for a moment before she realized that when he was talking about someone to go back to this island with him and study the plants and their uses as well as the native magic that he was talking about her.



“I, well, I,” she attempted to compose herself, “I’d love to. Ron will have a fit, but I suppose he could visit . . .”



“No,” he replied bluntly. “The Tamari’i are cannibals. While I’ve been accepted into their community and have been given permission to bring a vahine, they will not take kindly to extra visitors. In fact, I was nearly an ina’i ‘amu, or dinner.”



“Oh, my. And how long do you expect this to take?”



“A year or two, three tops.”



“I’ll go! Ron’ll just have to live with it. He keeps talking about marriage, but won’t propose. Maybe when I get back, he’ll wake up. When do we leave, Professor?” As she waited for him to answer, she began composing her resignation and writing a list of things to do in short order to prepare for the adventure.



“Two weeks.”



“That’ll be fine.” With that she hurriedly began making preparations and he showed himself out.



Two short weeks and one long argument with Ron later, Hermione found herself standing on the beach of a small Pacific island with her former professor.



“Welcome to Fenua,” he purred into her ear. “Be careful, don’t go anywhere without me, just yet; remember the Tamiri’i are cannibals and will not hesitate to make maita’i ‘amu ‘oe of you, or in other words dinner. I will first introduce you the the Tamiri’i, then we will begin our research into the amanita and the wolf’s claw.”



The meeting flew by in a daze for Hermione as she did not understand any of the words. She noticed the natives called Severus ‘Ôfî and she was called Rouru. She also noticed that they had a different standard of modesty, which Severus adopted instantly, and she was expected to as well. They wore nothing more than a short loincloth made of grass and feathers that they called matie au huruhure, which hardly covered anything.



~~~Five Years After the Final Battle~~~



~~~Three Years After Arriving at Fenuea~~~



Time had lost all meaning to Hermione as she continued to help Severus with his experiments with the amanita and the wolf’s claw. With time she integrated herself into the native culture and even picked up the language learning that Severus’s name, ‘Ôfî, meant snake, and her name, Rouru, meant hair. Strangely, she accepted these names as more appropriate than their Christian names. She noticed that she quickly lost all sense of modesty, and didn’t care if she wore matie au huruhure loincloth or not, like many of the Tamiri’i, she was Tamiri’i.



Another thing that surprised her was the ease with which she fell into a relationship with Severus. With in a relatively short time, they were sharing a bed and the rest of the community considered them fa’aipoipo, or married. In fact she only realized she had been on Fenua for more than a year when she was so pregnant that her matie au huruhure was too tight to wear.



It was as her belly was swollen with her second child and she was still ‘amu ‘ôuma, or breast feeding, her first, that she knew that not only had she been there longer than she promised, but that she had no intention of going home; no intention of spoiling the paradise that she had found. The potions that she and Severus had made using the amanita and wolf’s claw were quite successful and in curing lycanthropy, curse based mental problems and other magical maladies, but they weren’t leaving. Severus Apparated to Hawai’i to sell market there potions and ointments. The money made was set up in a trust, but they had no interest in using it. They were fare, home.



They were home in there aihere and pa’a auta’a, grass and bark tent. It was one room and made of the thick bark of the local trees and tall grasses, dried and woven together. It was a place for them to sleep and seek shelter from the mid-day ua, or rain. Ra’i, their daughter was in her hu’a, or cradle. When their past lives returned to them forcing to them make a choice.



Ra’i was playing quietly, while Severus and Hermione were taking a break from work due to the ua. They were lying on our me’ume’u matie, thick grass bed. Severus was on the bottom, as Hermione’s belly was ‘ôpû rahi, or extremely pregnant. She rolled her hips over him, as he leaned up to suckle from her breast. Ra’i didn’t mind. She seemed to love to share her meal with her metua tane, or tue ta as her small tongue formed the Tamiri’i word for daddy.



However, they never got to finish our impromptu joining. They were interrupted by the rest of the village preparing for a’ua’a pua’a, the hunt. Followed by the desperate cry, “Hermione!”



Ron Weasley, her former fiancé, had found them. Hermione rushed out of their aihere to see the tua’ua, or hunters, had captured Ron, and had begun to build the auahi, fire, to cook him. Ron would be maita’i ‘amu ‘oe!



Ron caught sight of Hermione, just as Severus and Ra’i came to stand behind her. He looked at them both, but in his panicked state had trouble associating the woman and man with his fiancée and former teacher. Three years had changed them both. Not only was Hermione cheggars, her body bore the marks of not only the current and a previous pregnancy, but also the piercings, scarification, and tattooing of being accepted into a tribal village. Her hair had not faired well in the tropical humidity and had naturally dreaded itself into thick locks. Snape on the other hand was very similar to how Ron remembered him, hooked nose, greasy hair; although, his complexion had darkened somewhat from constant exposure to light, and he, too, was pierced, tattooed and scarred.



“Hermione?” Ron questioned, his brain making the connection, completely unconcerned that he was tied to a spit, and about to be roasted. “I looked for you when you didn’t come back last year. I need you. . . Ouch! That hurt! Hermione, tell these primates to release me! We can go home!”



Hermione looked at Ron and her temper grew as he called her friends primates!



“Mau! Au ‘î tâne!” She spoke in the native tongue. The natives stopped and she walked up to Ron.



“I told them to stop, that I will speak with you,” she said to the red haired man. “I’m really sorry about not coming home, but the Tamiri’i are great people and Fenua is paradise; I couldn’t leave. I fell in love with Severus; we have a daughter, Ra’i. Her name means sky. This is my home now.”



He looked at her, pierced nose, tribal tattoos on her face and chest, nipple rings, and tribal scars on her arms and legs, dreaded hair. Once he had thought her pretty and smart. Now all he could think was wild and primitive. Part of him was enthralled, part was disgusted.



“At least have them let me go, maybe I can change your mind,” he whined.



“Sorry Ron, I can’t. You see you are going to be maita’i ‘amu ‘oe. It has been a long time since we’ve had any meat, and since we’ve just had a great vegetable harvest, you will be part of a great feast. Only once since I’ve been here, were we lucky enough to have \'amu ha\'apu\'upu\'u. So tonight, you are dinner, and we will eat to our hearts content. My daughter will get her first taste of meat.”



“Hermione!” Ron cried. “No, Hermione, you can’t do this! Hermione!”



“Ama,” she said, smiling as she made her way back to her family.



“Hermione! No! You bitch! Hermione! You bitch!” He screamed as the men placed him over the fire.



That night, Hermione and Severus, joined with the rest of community to eat. “Maita’i ‘amu!” could be heard all around. Ra’i sitting between her mother and father as they ate. Hermione was right, her daughter did indeed enjoy her first taste of meat; although, she only got small carefully chosen bites.



Later that night, Hermione went down to the river to bathe. When she let out piercing scream, Severus joined her. At dawn, their son, Tahora, joined them.



A few weeks later, Severus went to Hawai’i to sell their latest batch; Hermione sent a letter to Harry, hoping that he would not be coming looking for Ron and her.



Dear Harry,



I’m sorry to inform you, but Ron is dead. I’m hoping that you tried to discourage him from coming to find me, and sorry that you did not succeed. I’m very happy in my new life. I have a wonderful husband, two beautiful children, and I live in paradise. Please let us be. If you cannot, at least warn us several months in advanced by owling: Paradise Potions, Kaho’olawe, Hawai’i. Severus will pick it up at the post and we will respond with a good time to visit. This is very important, Harry. If you don’t do this, you could very well end up dinner, like Ron did. Severus was very lucky to survive his first visit with the Tamari’i are cannibals and we have adopted their ways. Again, I’m very sorry.



Love,



Rouru (Hermione)

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I really must stop writing these and get back to my own stories, but these are just too much fun!



Anyway, of course, I don’t own anything. The characters except for Ra’i and Tahora belong to JK Rowling.



Amanita is a genus of mushroom, a psychedelic variety. The island is loosely based on Henderson Island in the Pitcairn archipelago. The language is based on Tahitian. Most of the words here can be found at: http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/Appendix:Tahitian_Swadesh_list



I hope you’ve enjoyed this little deviation. It is really tempting to turn some of these ideas into full blown stories. But alas, too many stories, not enough time.



Ora!