A Song for Severus ~ (Not Update, but Edit)

Chapter 65 ~ Life Continues On

When sixty-one-year-old Abby McGuire answered the heavy knock at her door mid-afternoon, she had her wand with her.

“Blooming saleswizards. Can’t they read the blooming “No Soliciting” sign? It’s right there. Well, some heated boots ought to get the message across,” she grumbled.

The stout witch opened the door, her hazel eyes narrowed as she looked up at the tall, brown-eyed, brown-haired wizard who stared back at her as if she were a ghost. He looked familiar. He probably had been by here before.

“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying,” Abby said, shooting flames at his run-over boots.

Jordan leapt back.

“Mum! Mum it’s me!” he exclaimed.

Abby looked at him. Had this man called her mum? How disrespectful! She reached into her robes pocket and pulled out her glasses, putting them on and peering at the man with enlarged eyes. She stared at him in disbelief.

“Jordan?” she said in a whisper.

He nodded.

”Yes, mum. Yes, it’s me,” he said, staring at her, his brown eyes glistening.

“No…it can’t be…my Jordan is dead…killed by Death Eaters they said,” she murmured at him.

Jordan shook his head.

“No mum. I was kept a prisoner for all this time. A Death Eater took me, but kept me on as a healer. She’s dead now, and I was able to escape. I was able to…to come home,” he said softly.

Abby stared at him for a moment longer. He was older, but there was no mistaking those eyes and that smile. He was the spitting image of his father at that age, if a bit skinnier. Abby let out a shriek, ran forward and wrapped her arms around her boy, pulling him down with her weight.

“It’s a miracle!” she blubbered, wetting Jordan’s robes with her tears as he held her just as tightly, “A bloody miracle! My Jordan’s come home! After almost twenty years, you’ve come home! Come in! Come in!”

Abby bodily dragged Jordan through the doorway, screaming for his father and slamming the door shut behind them.

He was home. After nineteen years of captivity, Jordan Steven McGuire was finally home.

He wondered if his healer’s license was still good.

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Severus talked to “the hand” for about a week. Hermione was furious with him and refused to even have a conversation with the wizard, much less give him a bit of nookie. The Potions Master soon stopped trying to talk to her at all, passing by her wordlessly whenever he met her in the dungeons. Fed up, one evening Hermione stormed into his rooms with a piece of parchment in her hands and slapped it down on his desk. The wizard was still working on the end of year exams.

The Potions Master looked up at Hermione. Her amber eyes were flashing with anger. Oh, she was such a hot little witch when she was like this. Severus put his pen down and leaned back in the swivel chair, arching an eyebrow at her.

“May I help you, Miss Granger?” he purred at her.

“Don’t ‘Miss Granger’ me, Severus. I need you to sign off on the Anti-Elixir so I can get credit for it. I’m leaving Hogwarts,” she said, crossing her arms. She expected the wizard to blow a torchlight, but Severus just looked at her evenly, pulled the parchment toward him, read it over, then signed it. He pushed it back towards her.

”Will there be anything else?” the wizard asked her.

Hermione was a bit taken aback. Yes, she had given Severus the cold shoulder, neck and ass all week, but she expected some kind of rise out of him. He hadn’t even asked her when she was leaving or where she was going to work. Actually, Albus had her working on some pet projects for the time being. What Hermione was really trying to do was open up the lines of dialogue with the wizard without seeming as if she were giving in.

Little did she know, Severus knew she still had work she was doing for the Headmaster, and had an idea exactly what she was up to…the little minx.

“No…I guess not,” she said slowly

Severus went back to working on the exam, but Hermione didn’t leave. She stood there looking at him. Presently the wizard looked up as if surprised to see her still standing there.

“Are you here to ‘make up’ with me, Hermione?” he asked her directly.

Hermione turned red but stood her ground.

“Actually, I’m here to give you the opportunity to make up with me,” she retorted.

Severus once again put his quill down.

“In that case, my bedroom is only several steps away,” the wizard replied, “The ‘making up’ can commence immediately.”

The Potions Master knew Hermione wasn’t going to go for this, but in some cases the direct route was the best route.

Hermione glowered at him.

“Severus, it takes more than sex to repair a rift in a relationship,” she said, “We need to talk.”

Talk. The act that women put men through from time immemorial to further punish them by making them talk about their “feelings” before agreeing to let them fuck them again. Severus stood up and walked around his desk toward the witch. He stopped about a foot from her.

”I think I can provide you something better than a talk, witch. Knowledge,” he said, then walked over to his bookcase, slid a false front aside and removed a small bowl, closing the books back and carrying it over to Hermione.

“Here,” he said, handing her the pensieve.

”What’s this?” Hermione said, looking at the silvery strands swirling in the bowl.

“These are Volaria’s memories concerning what happened that evening with Voltaire. I’ve had it for several days now, waiting for you to calm down enough to be willing to see what occurred between the witch and her brother. It also contains what occurred between the witch and myself. It will give you the answers you need to either move past this…”

Here Severus hesitated for a moment.

“Or not,” he said meaningfully, “You may take it with you to view privately. Then, if you wish to talk to me, I will be here.”

Severus returned to his desk. Hermione looked down at the pensieve, then back at the Potions Master, who was once again writing. He didn’t look up again. Hermione exited his rooms.

“You’ll be back,” Severus said under his breath as the wall closed.

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The full moon came and went without incident, Remus and Eloise sharing the barn during the transformation, playing together and sleeping side by side. Rubin rolled out the silver fencing for the night, and kept watch but no other werewolves showed up to his relief. Following his animal instincts, Remus made a few weak advances toward Eloise throughout the night, but was constantly snarled down by the alpha bitch until he rolled on his back in submission.

It wasn’t going to be that easy, wolfie.

Rubin had informed Eloise of the Death Eater arrests. The Prophet listed all the names of the captured witches and wizards.

“Fenrir Greyback isn’t listed. That means he wasn’t captured and is still out here,” Rubin said to the witch as they sat outside at a wooden table drinking coffee.

“Good. If he was in prison, I couldn’t get my revenge,” Eloise said, her eyes lightly veining.

The farmer considered her, but said nothing. Most likely Fenrir would be lying low for the time being. Aurors visited the werewolf village in search of him but didn’t find hide or hair of the wizard.

The werewolves themselves weren’t concerned about Fenrir. They had something else to be excited about. The monthly newsletter from the Ministry had been issued and what it contained made every male werewolf in the village take note.

The listing contained name, age, sex, breeding status if female and the location of each newly registered werewolf. Underneath "breeding status" there was usually the letter “S” which stood for “Sterile.”

But Eloise Hedgeberry had an “F” under her breeding status. “F” meant “Fertile.”

The bitch could breed.

Also under sex, the Ministry used “WZ” for a wizard and “WI” for a witch. Eloise had an “M” for muggle.

So there was a fertile muggle werewolf bitch staying at Fezwig’s farm.

The male werewolves wasted no time forming a “welcoming” party. About fourteen wizards apparated to Rubin’s farm to welcome Eloise into the ranks and hopefully impress her.

The silver fencing was magically rolled back during the day and the farm was wide open. Rubin was outside pitching hay when he noticed the mass of men walking towards his farm. Eloise was in the barn bathing and shaving.

Rubin leaned on his pitchfork and idly placed his hand in his pocket, gripping the handle of his wand. He could tell that every single wizard was a werewolf by the slightly veined eyes. They were here for Eloise.

The group stopped a respectful distance away and one man walked forward, hailing Rubin.

“Hello, Mr. Fezwig. My name is Gordon Claw and we’re representatives from the werewolf village. We’ve come to pay our respects to Miss Hedgeberry,” the wizard said, smiling.

Rubin eyed them.

”I see. Are all the werewolves in your village male?” he called back to the wizard, who smirked.

”No,” he admitted.

”Without females, it really isn’t a proper representation is it, Mr. Claw?” Rubin said, his eyes narrowed.

”No. But the females aren’t as interested in meeting Miss Hedgeberry as we are, sir. May we speak to her?” Gordon asked him.

Rubin considered the group.

“What if I told you no?” the farmer inquired.

”Then we would leave sir. We don’t intend to offend,” Gordon replied sincerely.

Rubin thought about this. They might leave, but he could be sure they’d be skulking about every day and night hoping to get a glimpse of Eloise. Maybe it would be better just to let them meet her. Rubin leaned the pitchfork against the fence, pulled out his wand and created another long wooden table and two benches. Then he made a wooden chair that rested a little distance from the tables.

“Come over then and have a seat,” the farmer said, “Miss Hedgeberry is indisposed at the moment, but will be out in a bit.”

”Thank you sir,” Gordon said, motioning to the other to follow. The group of werewolves entered the yard and sat down on the benches, seven men at each table.

Rubin walked over to the barn and knocked on the door.

”Come in, Rubin,” Eloise called.

Rubin pushed the door open and entered to find Eloise seated at the table, fresh and clean.
She was dressed in a blue cotton long-sleeved shirt, blue jeans and work boots and running a towel over her damp hair.

“You have visitors,” the farmer said to the muggle, his eyes serious.

Eloise stopped toweling her hair.

“Visitors? Who would be visiting me?” Eloise asked him, putting the towel down on the table.

”Apparently several virile wizards from the local werewolf community,” the farmer replied. “The Ministry puts out a newsletter giving information on newly registered werewolves. They give personal details. Most likely these fellows know you can breed and want to get a paw up.”

”What?” Eloise said, not able to believe this.

They came to see if they could fuck her?

“That’s horrible,” Eloise said, frowning toward the door.

Rubin shook his head.

”These men are werewolves, Eloise. Their presence here is based on animal attraction and natural instincts. It is a part of the social structure of the pack, not of civilized society and among werewolves, perfectly acceptable. One or two may test your mettle and try to bully you verbally…they don’t know if you are an alpha female or not. Most likely, they are hoping you aren’t because then all of them could have at you,” the farmer said warningly.

Eloise’s brown eyes narrowed. She was no submissive bitch.

She rose.

”I guess I’d better go meet the boys, then,” she said walking toward the door as Rubin shook his head. Those dogs didn’t know what was coming at them.

Eloise paused at the door before pushing it open and stepping out into the yard. She surveyed the men who quickly stood up when she appeared. Maybe she would find a champion among them…hopefully several champions.

Just as Eloise began to approach the men, there was the sound of apparition, and Remus Lupin appeared…a shocked look on his face as he saw all the werewolves standing around the table.

He then saw Eloise standing a distance away, looking at him, then back at the waiting wizards.

What the fuck was going on here? This was Remus’ territory…and although Eloise was not his mate, he had his heart invested in the muggle. No one else was going to court her as long as he had breath in his body.

Before he could stop himself, Remus snarled…and drew his wand.

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A/N: Oh oh! Seems like the wolf is coming out in Mr. Lupin. ;) Thanks for reading.