The Pet

The Pet

It all belongs to Rowlings, what you don’t recognize is mine.

Chapter Five:

Snape sipped the concoction that the Muggle at the downstairs sandwich shop had had the nerve to call tea. It wasn’t. He didn’t know what Chai was, but tea did not come anywhere near to describing the repulsive mixture. Harry seemed to like it though, and that was what this morning was about.

Snape had spent several hours going from safe house to safe house attempting to find the young wizard only to discover him in a small bedsit just outside of Piccadilly Circus in Muggle London. He’d been forced to wait outside in an alleyway another two hours for Headmaster Dumbledore to leave.

Finally sitting in the room, in a chair that creaked ominously every time he shifted his weight, Snape was feeling ill at ease and uncertain if he was approaching Potter in the right way. The tact he was about to take was against everything he ever stood for: he was about to be straightforward and completely aboveboard.

“So Professor, you already told the Headmaster about this plan and he’s already rejected it, isn’t that right? So now you are coming directly to me?” Harry, sitting cross-legged on the bed, took a gulp of the drink before setting it down on the small bedside table.

Snape stood up, and smiled. “Well, Potter, he didn’t really hear me out. Only gave it half an ear before stating it was too dangerous. He didn’t listen to the entire plan. But I expect you to. And I think perhaps you will see the advantages where Headmaster only saw problems.” His face was beginning to ache from all the smiling, but he continued and his grin broadened and he tilted his head in what he hoped was a fatherly demeanor. “You are an adult now, Harry.”

And still enough of a bigheaded, spoilt child, he silently hoped, that the direct appeal to his ego would do the trick.

&&&

It took a half hour to find and sort out the ingredients she needed. Even then, none of it looked very fresh. Hermione surveyed the cauldron with a jaundiced eye, it hadn’t been cleaned very well after it’s last usage and normally she would have simply thrown it out rather than risk adverse effects from lingering magic. She was a bit embarrassed for Remus that he hadn’t taken better care of the equipment. But perhaps the cauldron had belonged to the cottage’s last owner? She shook her head to rid it of non-essential thoughts and got to work.

Face reddened from the heat, within the hour of leaving him she had two potions made, one for internal use which would act both as an antibiotic and anti-inflammatory and another potion that would go on some clean bandages as a poultice to draw out the infection.

She stopped short on the top stair when she saw a naked Remus lying half in and out of his bedroom door. Putting down her potions, Hermione ran to him, and put an arm under the uninjured shoulder.

“Damn, Remus. You are heavy.” She put him down again and used a spell to lift him up and back into bed. She braced him as best she could with pillows and managed to get a dose to go down his throat instead of his chin. The effect was instantaneous as he coughed so violently that he brought most of it back up. Hermione was either going to cry or kill the man. “By Merlin’s staff,” said Hermione, using the strongest oath she dared, “you’re as bad as Crookshanks with his fur ball remedy.”

She patted his face trying to rouse him closer to consciousness. Once she saw him start to open his eyes she pressed the glass with the dose to his lips. “Now be really good for me and drink this down.”

Eyes partially open, yet still unfocused, Remus drank down the entire glass. He fell back on the pillows. Hermione sighed and relaxed, “Thank you, for your cooperation,” she murmured. She then proceeded to dress his wounds. His prior adventure, taking him out of bed and halfway out his door, had caused anything that had started to heal to rip open again and the entire bed was a mess of stinking infection and blood. But at least he was lying quietly, making it easy to get the poultices and bandages onto him. Hermione was grateful for the extra studies she had taken in wartime medicine. Creating sterile bandages out of spare sheets had been the easiest of her tasks that morning.

Remus started to come to when she was almost done with the bandaging. He was still running a high fever but was semi-conscious.

“Don’t leave, please don’t leave,” he babbled hoarsely.

“I won’t, don’t worry,” she stroked his hand and continued to work on a wound in his thigh. Until now she had forgotten about his nakedness, her focus being on the individual cuts and puncture wounds from the branches. But suddenly he grabbed her arms and rolled her under him.

His eyes were wild and glassy.

“I couldn’t stand it. I won’t give you up,” he said in a voice thick with desire.

Hermione was a bit frightened. “It’s alright, Remus, but let go you’re hurting me. And you’ll dislodge the compresses. Please, Remus.”

His mouth came down on hers and he kissed her harshly before releasing her mouth. She felt something very hard and large pushing in between her legs.

“Please Remus. I’m not Tonks,” she tried to shove him off, but even out of his mind with fever, he was stronger than her. Her struggle only increased his excitement as she writhed beneath him. He took her wrists in one hand and forced her arms over her head.

“I love you,” and again he crushed his mouth against hers, thrusting his tongue through her lips.

Hermione pushed down the panic. She relaxed her body and used her mind just as she would in any defense class. “I’m not Tonks, Remus, it’s Hermione,” she stated quietly as soon as he had lifted his lips from her.

“Don’t ever leave me, Hermione.” He kissed her neck, while the other hand pulled up on her robes exposing her knickers.

Hermione nearly gave into tears. He was finally acknowledging his feelings for her, but he was also about to rape her. She wasn’t being given much choice in the matter. Relaxing completely, she took a deep breath and then forcefully swung her knee up, right into Remus’ crotch just as she and the other girls had practiced in unarmed defense classes with Madame Hooch.

Remus made a garbled noise and curled into a ball.

Hermione sprung out of bed, tears flooding her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I love you, too.” Finding her wand where it had rolled off the bed and onto the floor, she secured the ill Wizard to the bed. Remus was sobbing and thrashing against the ties.

“Look, I’m going to have to put you out now,” her voice shook. “You need to rest and heal.”

“Hermione, my love!” he yelled, just as she put him under a sleep spell.

She collapsed on the floor and had a good cry before dusting herself off and re-doing his bandages. She wasn’t sure what had gone wrong with the potions, or even if they were perfect and it was merely his lycanthropy playing havoc with them. It didn’t matter, she could only pray that once the fever was gone he’d be back to his right mind.

&&&

Snape had lost him. Potter wasn’t going to agree. He stood up and was at the door.

“Professor. Wait a minute, can’t we just think about this?”

Snape spun about, his patience gone. “I know where he is at this moment. I can take you there and we can be done with it. I’ve shown you the spell you must use. Now, we can argue this all day, until it’s too late and the Dark Lord had headed off to Merlin only knows where—“

“But if you are wrong, then we are both dead. Prof. Dumbledore—“

“The Headmaster has been mistaken in the past. Don’t you see that, Potter? He’s not omniscient, not outside of his own little domain. And not even there anymore, Hogwarts is gone.”

“What if I get the spell wrong?”

“Don’t make me say this, Harry Potter.”

“What?”

“Damn you, that you are every bit as talented as your father and he was one of the best. He and I dueled every chance there was, and, well, he was--” Snape slapped the table as bile flooded his mouth. He took a moment to swallow and breath. “If you try to use Avada Kadavra on the Dark Lord, you will effect nothing. I’ve seen it done as entertainment--entertainment to prove he was invincible. It is only with the Nihili-Almas, the soul-destroying curse, that you can defeat him. I am positive. And only a Wizard of your caliber could pull it off. That was what the prophecy meant.” Snape stalked over to the window. It was not empty praise or flattery. As much as he hated to admit it, it was the truth.

“I’ll go.”

Snape turned, mouth open in surprise. He pressed his lips together and silently he produced the two vials of Polyjuice potion.

Harry started to strip off his clothes, “Ugh, I hate the way that stuff tastes.”

Snape, also removing his clothes, raised an eyebrow, “Really? And exactly when was it that you tasted it before?”

Harry laughed, careful to keep his back turned to the professor as they exchanged clothing. “If you don’t know, I’m not telling.”

Harry, dwarfed in Snape’s clothes, managed to quell a smile at the sight of Snape’s body hanging out of Harry’s clothes every which way. “So this is it then?” Harry held the steaming potion from which Snape had just removed the stasis spell.

Snape tugged out one of his hairs and put it in Harry’s cup. He then plucked one from Harry’s head. “I don’t think I want to know when you last washed your hair.”

“This morning. Well, cheers.”

Snape held his breath and gulped it down. The room changed around him and lost focus as he shrunk down, fitting the younger man’s robes. “Glasses, please.” He held out his hand.

Harry gave them to Snape. “What will we do about our voices, then?”

Snape stared. “It does seem a bit odd hearing your voice come out of me. Well, do your best impression. It couldn’t be worse than any of the Weasley boys’ attempts. And I’ve heard enough of those over the years. However, you won’t have time to worry about it-- my guess is that in less then ten seconds he will break through your feeble attempt at occlumency and then the game will be up. You must curse him immediately, just as soon as he’s turned to look at me.”

“Right. What was the curse again? Just kidding.” Only a year or two ago, Harry probably would have shook at the expression that crossed Snape’s face but it looked farcical on his own, like something he’d see in a funhouse mirror. “Let’s get on with it.” Harry’s voice was steely in spite of the joke. Just shy of twelve noon on a Thursday and he was either going to execute the man who had destroyed his family and friends or die in the attempt. He was more than ready.

Harry held Snape under the arms and was fascinated by the fact that his true form was so small and frail compared to Snape’s lanky body. Harry had thought he had grown up, but he was still on the small side--probably due to years of the Dursleys’ abuse. Snape Apparated them, but did it in such a way as to make it look like Harry had performed the deed.

They were suddenly in what looked to be in an underground museum. There were fancy antique chairs and tables all about, a marble floor and paintings. That was Harry’s first and only impression before hearing Voldemort’s voice.

“Snape? Have you brought me a present?” The Dark Lord asked pleasantly.

Harry smiled and tossed himself at Voldemort’s feet. Snape did an admirable job of appearing unconscious.

Summoning every bit of acting skill he had, garnered over years of lying to Snape, Harry drawled, “It would appear that way.”

Voldemort looked at Harry’s body and Harry whispered, “Nihilum Spiritus!” focusing every bit of his will through his wand at the Dark Lord. A huge ball emerged from the evil Wizard’s mouth. It was clear, but swirling with dark energy. It got larger and larger until it was about 3 metres across. And then it separated from the Wizard’s mouth. The body of Voldemort melted and then desiccated into soot-like particles. Only the ball remained. Harry held his breath.

“Aveda Kadavra,” came Snape’s voice from Harry’s body. And Wormtail, who Harry hadn’t noticed come in, fell dead.

“Any others around, do you think?” asked Harry.

“Perhaps.” Snape rubbed his chin and was discomforted by the softness of Harry’s face. He really was just still a boy. The ball continued to hover. “It’s taking its time, I see.”

“Can we hurry it on its way?”

Snape shook his head, “Watch.”

The ball seemed to be growing darker and deflating. Small, crinkled fissures were forming over its surface, as the object seemed to sink into itself. Smaller and smaller it grew, like watching an apple decay in rapid motion. It became as small and wrinkled as a raisin and then winked out of existence.

“Concentrated evil. That was in a Monty Python film,” said Harry his voice mild, yet filled with awe.

“Monty who?”

“Monty Python!” Harry was coming out of his shock and suddenly filled with rage, “Is that it? Is that all there is to it. He’s gone? After all the fucking shite, I’ve been through?

“Language, Potter.” Shape stared somewhat horrified at the raw emotion on his own face.

“I killed him. Just like that he’s gone. I could have done it years ago. Sirius would still be alive.”

“Get a hold of yourself, Potter.”

“Why didn’t I kill them all?” Tears welled up in Harry’s eyes. “I had this power all along?”

“You’re a disgrace to Wizardry, bawling like a child.” Snape hated watching himself emote so.

“I could kill you, you know, I could?” There was a mad glint in Harry’s eyes.

“Well, if you are going to, do it quickly and be done. This image of me sniveling all over myself is unpleasant enough that I’d rather be dead than endure one more minute of it,” Harry’s mouth curled into one of Snape’s famous sneers.

Harry looked at his Professor and in another violent mood swing, he grabbed Snape by the ears and kissed him full on the mouth.

Snape, with his weaker body, struggled to push Harry away, “Merlin’s Balls!” He wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

“I couldn’t have done it without you. Snape, I’ve hated you all these years, but you had the key. I owe you—“

“That’s Professor to you and you owe me nothing--let’s get out of here. I’ve had all I can stomach from you.”

“Right.” Harry patted Snape’s cheek. “Right you are. I love you.”

“Oh, dear Merlin. I preferred it when you were threatening me,” Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. “Come on, Potter. I can have some antidote for this whipped up in no time. I really can’t stand to be in your body one second longer.” He picked up Voldemort’s wand and tucked it into a pocket of his robe.

“To Grimmauld Place?”

“As good as any other,” replied Snape and they Apparrated.

&&&

“Sir?” said Snape, feeling all of a sudden quite vulnerable. He wasn’t sure how to proceed. For once he’d failed to think in advance. Losing his touch, he was.

“Harry, Severus! Has something happened? There is a reason that you have called me here.” Dumbledore looked older than even his years allowed.

“Potter, I suggest you do the honors,” Snape was a little worried about how the elder Wizard might react to the news of Voldemort’s demise.

As Harry explained the ruse Snape had come up with Dumbledore’s eyes grew large and little puffs of steam began to seep from his ears.

“Well, I must inform the Order and of course the Ministery. Severus?”

Snape felt a little like he was back in Hogwart’s as a student again. Called up on the rug for dueling with James Potter again.

“Yes, Headmaster?”

“Job well done. We shall discuss your reward later.”

It was a promise and a threat.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t possibly ask for anything.” Snape anxiously thought about all the penalties marked as “rewards” that Dumbledore could come up with…and there were quite a few.

“Nonsense, my dear Professor. At least the Order of Merlin, don’t you think?”

Snape nodded dumbly.

“And I think I shall be taking some time off—“

Snape wrung his hands.

“Time for you to be in charge.”

Tears stung his eyes. “Yes, sir.” All in all he had gotten off lightly.

“However, there is a little matter I should like you to attend to—“

&&&


Morning light cascading through the window hit Remus’ eyes, producing a mild curse from his lips. Normally he drew the drapes before going to bed. He opened his eyes and tried to get up. He was tied to the bedposts! Furthermore, he was stark naked under his sheets!

He looked around in a panic. Hermione, in an armchair at the foot of his bed, sighed in her sleep. If it were Tonks this might be a practical joke--or maybe a special treat--but not Hermione. He tried to remember last night, hoped it was only last night, but past the grey fogginess of the transformation nothing came to mind.

His wand was nowhere to be seen. He mumbled a couple of counter incantations to remove the bindings and then gave up. Bandages were on various parts of his body; however, he felt no soreness, not even the usual post transformation aches and pains.

“Hermione?” he cleared his throat, trying to sound a bit less frog like. “Um. Good morning?”

Hermione stirred. Remus wondered if he couldn’t just lie there and pretend that none of this was happening.

“Remus?” Hermione stretched and rubbed her eyes.

“Hello, sleepy head.” He mentally tried out a series of witty lines to follow that and rejected them all in favor of simply asking, “What did I miss?” and displaying one tied wrist to her.

Hermione blushed and looked at the floor.

“That good a party?” he sighed. “Could you release me now?”

“OH, yes, I’m sorry.” Hermione gave a quick flick of her wand. She continued to stare at the ground, but asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Quite good, in fact, better than usual. But if you don’t mind I think I’d like to continue this conversation downstairs… perhaps over some breakfast. After I’ve gotten dressed…” He waited for her to get the hint…”Alone!”

She scurried out the door.

&&&

“So this is it, Snapikins?” Tonks had folded the last blanket and surveyed her now empty bedroom.

“Your incredibly offensive and stupid nicknames for me only increase my sense of relief that you will finally be called off of me,” Snape raised his voice from the next room where he was packing the last of his items away.

“I don’t know. The Ministry hasn’t arrested all of the Death Eaters. I might need to stay and protect you a few more weeks,” a dimple formed at the side of her mouth. “Even months, don’t you think?”

Snape groaned.

“I’ll just move into the basement with you. I’m sure there’s plenty of room in that mausoleum.”

“They are called dungeons and you will do nothing of the sort.” Fists clenching and unclenching, he threw down his carpetbag and stormed over into her room.

“I love it when you get all passionate.” She took him into a huge hug and held him as he struggled against her.

“Are you mad?” He pushed at her.

“Only for you.” She dropped a kiss at the end of his nose.

“I get so sick of your teasing. It’s in poor taste.” Snape said, giving up any pretense to anger and just staring at her blankly.

Tonks dropped her hands, “Like you would know about taste.” She sighed. “So Dumbledore has put you in charge of re-building the castle.”

“My punishment for going against his explicit command not to try and kill Voldemort. Of course the Trustees will be up my nose every waking moment.”

“I’d have loved to have been a fly on the wall for that one.”

“You wouldn’t, Potter fell apart afterwards.”

“Even then. And you must have been a sight when you were told that you were now chief Magical Contractor for the new Hogwarts.” She stood there, feeling at a loss.

“Look, Severus, I’m sorry about the teasing. If you’d just let me in.”

Snape glared. “I don’t like being toyed with.”

“I want us to at least stay friends.”

“That we never were.” Snape turned from her, got his bag from his room and Apparated.

&&&

Hermione refused to say anything throughout breakfast. Remus felt more nervous by the second.

“Hermione, please. We must talk about this.”

She cleared the breakfast plates and then sat down next to him at the small table, which served for all their meals.

She met his eyes for the first time since he’d awoken that morning. “There was a lightening strike, hitting the fir tree in the back. The top of the tree came down, breaking the cage and impaling you on one of the bars. In addition many of the branches broke off and went into your body.”

“Oh, you poor girl.” Remus stood up and took her in his arms, “You had to deal with all that.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks. She wasn’t going to tell him about the attempted rape. Never would she tell him that. Nor how much she still wanted him in spite of it. The words he’d spoken still echoed in her ears. He did want her. He loved her! She was sure he’d never admit it again to her and she knew of no way to change that.

“You saved my life then. Why aren’t you the courageous one? No wonder you are in such a state.” He took a napkin to dry her eyes. He noted that she was trembling all over. More than anything he wanted to kiss those tears away.

She clung onto him even as he wiped her face. “Here now blow your nose, that’s a good girl.”

“I’m not a girl. I’m eighteen and a woman. It was a woman that saved your life!” Her anger finally flared. “I’m not going to be treated like a child by you any longer.”

“Now, now, where is this coming from? I’m sorry, but I’m old enough to be—“

“Oh Hell, Remus. Lots of Wizards marry Witches half their ages.”

“Marriage? Hermione?” He laughed unsteadily. “You are a beautiful gir—er—woman. And thank you for your rescue of me.”

He abruptly let go of her and left. Walking up to his room, he wondered what insane asylum he’d woken up in.