The Burning Pen

A Looping of the Scales by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 27

All recognizable characters belong to JKR. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 27 ~ Concessions



”What’s the matter with Ron?” Ginny asked as she sat next to Harry at breakfast, scrutinizing her brother, who was sitting across from them. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes. He yawned and fixed himself a cup of tea.

”Oh, he was up ohmmming most of the night,” Harry replied, putting some tomato slices on his plate.

”Ohmmming? Never heard of it. Is that anything like wanking off?” Ginny inquired.

Shocked, Ron looked up at his sister as Harry grinned wickedly.

”It is if you ask me,” he answered.

Ron scowled.

”Oh, shut up, Harry,” he muttered.

Harry chuckled.

Ginny grinned, then said, “No, really. What’s ohmmming?”

Harry explained about the book Ron purchased and how he was trying to becoming an Animagus in seven days. Six, now. Ginny shook her head but wanted to be supportive of her brother’s efforts.

”Good luck with that, Ron,” she said with a smile.

”Thank you, Ginny,” Ron responded, looking at Harry pointedly. Harry rolled his eyes.

”Did anyone see Hermione at all yesterday?” Ginny asked.

Neville Longbottom, who was sitting next to her, answered.

”Yeah, I did. I saw her leaving the castle with professor Snape around seven-thirty last night. He had a broom with him,” Neville replied.

”They were probably testing his Animagus form again,” Harry said.

Neville looked interested.

”Snape is an Animagus? I never knew that.”

”Well, he wasn’t last time around. But this time, yeah. He changes into a gryffin.”

”Wow. A gryffin,” Neville breathed, impressed. “I’d like to see that.”

Ron frowned as he buttered his toast.

”Maybe he’ll show us this weekend,” Ginny said. “We can ask him. All he can say is no.”

“He probably won’t,” Ron said enviously. “He’ll probably be too happy to show it off. Git.”

By lunchtime, nearly everyone knew that the former professor Snape was an Animagus and what his form was. Professor Slughorn was particularly impressed.

”That is quite a form, quite a form indeed, if it’s true,” he said to Minerva at lunch.

”Oh, but it is true, Horace. He came to me to register yesterday. It’s a beautiful transformation, and rare.”

”You know, Minerva, Severus has been far too solitary since his accident. He needs to get out and reacquaint himself with the world. I believe I’ll invite him to one of my little get-togethers, introduce him to a few people, or re-introduce him, rather.”

Minerva rolled her eyes.

”Horace, I’m almost certain Severus has no desire to join your ‘Slug Club,” she said tightly.

Horace blustered.

”Whatever do you mean, Minerva? It is important for a young wizard to make contacts that can benefit him over the years. Surely, he will see that. He is a Slytherin after all.”

”Severus has never been the type to ‘mingle,’ Horace. If you invite him, you may be disappointed,” the Headmistress informed him.

”We’ll see,” Slughorn replied, not the least bit discouraged.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had standing invitations to the Slug Club gatherings because of their roles in the defeat of Voldemort. Slughorn only had one gathering this year and Ron attended along with Harry and Ginny. Hermione didn’t go. She said she didn’t have time to chat up people. She had too much work to do.

Ron, on the other hand, was ecstatic, because Slughorn used to act as if he hadn’t existed and he’d been excluded from parties that Harry and Hermione were invited to attend. He was fascinated when he was introduced to Eldred Worple, the author of “Blood Brothers: My Life Among the Vampires.”

It wasn’t Worple himself that was so fascinating, but who he had with him in attendance. A vampire from the Black Forest named Sanguini, who was tall, pale and gaunt, with hypnotic black eyes and long, black hair.

”Bloody hell. He could pass for Snape’s brother if he had a bigger nose,” Ron had breathed at Harry before the vampire’s dark eyes flicked toward him and he smiled slightly, a tip of a fang showing. Ron had watched him nearly the whole night and when the party was ending, the vampire approached him. Harry and Ginny had already left, so he was alone.

“I appear to be of interest to you, young man,” Sanguini said in a soft, heavily-accented and rather sensuous voice. “You’ve been watching me most of the night. I could—feel you. Perhaps you and I could walk together in private and I could answer any questions you might have concerning me—to slake your obvious curiosity.”

Ron blinked, caught up in the vampire’s seductive aura and was about to answer him in the affirmative when Worple suddenly inserted himself between them, facing Sanguini.

”Ah, Sanguini, I believe it is nearly time for us to go,” he said warningly as the vampire didn’t take his eyes off of Ron. Worple turned to him.

”I suggest you leave, young man,” he urged.

Ron looked as if he had awakened from a dream.

”Uh—yeah. I guess I’d better,” he said, and walked away uncertainly.

Worple looked at Sanguini disapprovingly. Sanguini shrugged.

”I was feeling a bit peckish,” the vampire said.

Worple fished a Blood-flavored lollipop out of his pocket that he’d purchased from Honeyduke’s Candy Shop and held it out to him.

”Here. Suck on this,” he said pointedly.

Ron never knew he had been this close to being a snack for a vampire.

There was such a thing as too much mingling.

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When Hermione arrived at Snape’s quarters that evening, he asked her how much time she need for studying. She didn’t answer him at first.

”Are you going deaf?” he snarked, miffed at her ignoring him.

Hermione opened her Arithmancy book.

”I won’t be going out with you tonight, Severus. I’m going to do my Arithmancy/Potions work first, so you can study, then go. I’ll be staying here.”

”What? You’re not going to come with me?” he asked, sitting down beside her and taking parchment and pen out of a cubbyhole.

”No, I’m not. I thought about what you said, and decided you were right. It would be a much better use of my time to study your books than to watch you gliding around a clearing. So, after I’ve caught up with my work, I’ll be utilizing your library and looking for more theories.”

Snape seemed taken aback by this, but said nothing as Hermione proceeded to do her work, him following along, his dark eyes flicking to her face from time to time. Her brow was furrowed in concentration and the tip of her tongue was visible, peeking out from the corner of her mouth as she concentrated. She was finished in an hour.

”There,” she said, closing the books and looking at him. “You’re free to go now.”

Snape scowled at her as she opened the next set of books.

”I was going to try flapping a bit tonight,” he said.

”That’s nice,” Hermione said shortly.

”It’ll feel—strange practicing alone,” he muttered.

Hermione shrugged.

”You’ll get used to it,” she replied carelessly.

”Fine!” Snape snapped, pushing away from the table violently, his chair scraping the floor. He stood up, stalked into his room and grabbed his broomstick, then walked back past her.

Hermione didn’t even look up. He stopped at the wall and stood there looking at it, then whirled and stalked back over to her.

”This is about the blasted NEWTS, isn’t it?” he demanded.

”NEWTS? I have no idea what you’re talking about, Severus.”

He stared down at her furiously, then shook a pale finger at her.

”This is about the NEWTS. You’re doing this because I wouldn’t agree to give a demonstration of my abilities. You’re abandoning me,” he told her.

Hermione turned in her chair and looked at him, her brown eyes defiant.

”How am I abandoning you? I’m doing exactly what we agreed upon. Helping you with your Arithmancy and in exchange accessing your library. How is that abandoning you?”

”You—I—the flying—“

Hermione arched one eyebrow at him.

”You certainly can do better than that,” she said.

Snape sighed. He really did want Hermione out there with him while he practiced. She was like his cheering section and he liked her company, not to mention her attention.

”I want you to come with me, Hermione. It wouldn’t be the same without you. Not nearly as fun,” he told her honestly.

”I’m not here to have fun. I’m here to work,” she responded.

”Don’t give me that. You gather information while I practice, information you can use. Do you really want to miss me using my wings for something other than gliding for the first time? Do you?”

“No, I don’t, but Severus, I want to make the best presentation I can and that requires your assistance. If you don’t help me, the whole project will feel incomplete, as if I didn’t give my best. I’d rather work on something else and take it as far as I can go rather than make a partial presentation that I know can be better. I’m just trying to do my best here and work with what I have to work with.”

Snape stared down at her.

”You know, this is very close to blackmail, Hermione Granger. Your company in exchange for my acquiescence. Not a very Gryffindor act at all.”

”I’m not blackmailing anyone, Severus. You don’t have to help me,” she told him, turning back in her chair and pretending to leaf through her book. “I can come up with something else, believe me. In fact, there are a number of erroneous, long-standing assumptions about Muggles—”

“Fine. If you will continue to accompany me while I learn to fly, I’ll stand in on your blasted NEWTS,” Snape muttered.

Hermione immediately popped up.

”Well, let’s go then,” she said, heading for the wall and letting herself out, Snape staring after her.

”Damn manipulative Gryffindors,” he hissed, striding after her.

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Hermione had a rather tight ride to the clearing, Snape holding her so tightly that she could scarcely draw a breath. He was angry, and it showed. Well, her plan had worked. She didn’t feel very guilty about manipulating him this way. She just hadn’t been sure she could do it. He might not have cared if she went with him or not.

Obviously, he did care. He said practicing was more fun when she was present, so that meant he enjoyed her company. Hermione got a little pleasurable thrill from that admission. Again, she felt very special.

Instead of heading for the Forbidden Forest, Snape flew toward the Quidditch pitch, passing over it and looking down. It was empty of students. There was plenty of space here, and no one could see inside it from a distance. He flew down and let Hermione off, then flew first to one entrance, then the other, warding them so no one could enter.

He flew back to Hermione, who stared at him.

”You can’t ward the Quidditch pitch!” she said to him. “It’s a public area.”

”Yes, a public area that’s being used privately,” he snapped at her, stalking over to the closest stand area and leaning his broom against the wall. “If anyone has any complaints, I’ll deal with it. Now—“

Snape transformed into his gryffin form and looked at Hermione for a moment before he began to run across the Quidditch pitch. Hermione had never really seen him run for any distance because the clearing wasn’t that big. She quickly pulled out her note pad and sketched out his stride. Despite having talons, he ran much as a lion did, head low and tail streaming, his wings folded against his body, his front legs passing between his back legs as he streaked across the landscape. He was very fast, very handsome and very dangerous looking. Hermione could almost imagine him bringing some animal down in this manner.

Snape ran along the perimeter of the stadium and now was streaking back toward Hermione full speed, the witch gasping. He wasn’t slowing down as he drew nearer, his dark eyes focused on her as if she were prey. Hermione’s heart started pounding. How angry had she really made the wizard?

Hermione screamed as Snape was almost on top of her. At the last moment, he gave a cry and leaped, soaring over her head, wings spread, turning gracefully before he flapped, elevating himself, going higher and higher, Hermione still screaming, but this time with delight as she watched Snape’s maiden flight. Again, he was magnificent.

“You’re flying! You’re flying, Severus!” she shouted with cupped hands as the gryffin flew above her, mixing flapping with gliding and making lazy circles over her head, looking down at her. Then suddenly, he turned and flew out of the stadium.

”Severus!” Hermione cried out in alarm.

But the wizard was feeling his liberation, his power as he flew over the grounds of Hogwarts, over and around the castle, past the Herbology center and over the lake. He could see students like ants on the grounds, running and pointing up at him. He squawked in delight and did a perfect loopty loop for them before continuing on.

He flew higher and caught a thermal, gliding through the skies, a king of the air. He had never felt so whole, so free as if the entire world was his dominion. He could go anywhere, do anything—

Hermione stood twisting her hands and looking up at the sky. It was starting to get dark and the torches around the pitch lit up.

“Where is he?” she breathed, hoping he hadn’t crashed. He should have stayed in the pitch and practiced rather than just go flying off the way he did. Suddenly, there was a whoosh of wings behind her and she turned to see the gryffin, looking at her as it folded its wings and slowly walked toward her.

”How was it?” she asked the beast, who turned back to an excited, flushed Severus Snape. He wore a big smile.

”Indescribable, Hermione. The most beautiful experience of my life,” he said, extending his arms and pretending to glide, moving about, his robes billowing.

Hermione watched him and just knew that in his original life, Snape had never billowed about, pretending to fly. She smiled at him as he indulged himself for a few moments, then suddenly stopped and walked up to her, grabbing both her hands in his own.

”You have to come with me,” he said to her. “You have to experience it, Hermione. It’s—it’s too fantastic for words.”

Hermione blinked at him.

”What?”

”I want you to come with me. Ride on my back. You can hold on to my neck. I’ll stay low at first.”

”No! I’m scared to death of flying, Severus. You know that! Riding a gryffin bareback? Oh no. There’s no possible way I’d do that!” she told him.

”I’ll—I’ll have a saddle made. We’ll go back to my quarters and you can take my measurements, he said enthusiastically. “And it will be charmed so the rider can’t fall off. That would work, wouldn’t it? Your fear is of falling, not flying. This way, you don’t have to worry. Show some courage. You are a Gryffindor, despite how Slytherin you act.”

He was still gripping her hands, all excitement and exuberance. He could fly and he wanted to share that with Hermione. She had been there for it all. She just had to agree and see what it was like.

”Besides, it would be extra fodder for your paper,” he pressed. “First hand research.”

”All right,” she said softly. “If you get a magic saddle, I’ll fly with you, Severus.”

The wizard let out a whoop and whirled a startled Hermione around.

”You’re going to love it,” he breathed, stopping. He looked down at her.

”This is the greatest day of my life,” he said softly. Then, before Hermione could say anything, he kissed her quickly on the mouth, turned back into a gryffin and took off running. He leapt into the air again and flew happily around the Quidditch pitch.

Hermione looked up at him, bringing her fingertips to her lips, which still tingled from the brief contact.

”Merlin,” she breathed.

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They returned to the castle a bit early, Snape still excited about his ability to fly. He was all smiles as they walked through the castle. He and Hermione entered his quarters, where he transformed. They spent the next hour getting his proper measurements, with Hermione drawing him and adding the proper dimension lines as a guide for the leathersmith who would create the saddle. Snape turned back and looked at her work with satisfaction.

”I’ll take this down to the shop tomorrow,” he told her, placing it on his desk. Nothing had been said about the kiss he’d given her. In fact, Snape had been so elated, the kiss practically hadn’t registered for him at all. It had been reflexive.

But it registered with Hermione, who was wondering if she should make it a point to draw a line in the sand, to let him know he shouldn’t act so familiarly with her. Stealing kisses. Really. She’d just broken up with Ron after all. It was—unseemly.

“Severus,” she said softly, thinking she’d say something.

”Yes, Hermione?”

He looked so—so happy.

”I—I—“

”Yes?”

”I just want to say I’m really happy for you,” she said, changing her mind. She didn’t want to say or do anything to mar his moment of happiness. He’d had so few in his life.

”Thank you, Hermione,” he replied, still smiling.

”You know, you never smiled when you were an adult. It’s nice to see,” she told him.

”I didn’t have much to smile about then, did I?” he replied. “I’m starting to think that—that life is going to be—better this time. It can’t possibly be worse.”

”No,” Hermione agreed with a soft smile. “It certainly can’t.”

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A/N: Thanks for reading.

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