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Amphitrite	By : AndreaLorraine Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 9422 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Severus knew that
somehow he had been transported off the beach, away from Lucius and
Hermione. In a moment of extreme aggravation
and anguish, he shouted and pounded his fists upon the cool, worn marble
floor. It left two rough circles of
blood on the white stone � Lucius�s blood.
The sight made him feel boneless.

He sat back abruptly, resting his elbows on his knees and
breathing hard. A cold sweat beaded on
his forehead. He needed to compose
himself or he would surrender to madness.
The sound of his harsh exhalations echoed in the dimly lit structure. It was almost sinister in its cold,
tremendous quietude.

Severus closed his eyes.
In another moment he would stand up and try to find a way out. Once he found a way out, he would find out
where he was. Once that was done, he�d
have to�

�Do not worry.
Your friends will be all right.�
The raspy male voice sounded massive in the high-ceiling room.

�I do not share your confidence,� Severus replied,
getting cautiously to his feet. He could
not see the owner of the voice anywhere; his wand pointed at nothing. There was a shuffling noise at the far end of
the room, and he whirled. A shadow,
stretched to the size of a giant by one of the flickering candles, stood nestled
between two columns.

�They could never mistake you,� it said. �You�re definitely mine.�

�What are you talking about?� Severus squinted to make out any feature of
the shadow or the shape of a door near it.
He could not stay here engaged in idle conversation with this mysterious
person. He had to get back to Preveza,
back to that beach that had become both a blessing and a curse.

�What am I talking about?� The voice was amused now. �You�re ugly, that�s what I�m talking about.�

Severus could not help the stab of indignance that rose
in his gut. Honestly, would he ever be
free of that adjective? Couldn�t anyone
ever find a more gentle or creative way to say it?

�Well, if that is all you have to say, I thank you for
your compliment and ask that you kindly show me out of this place,� he said,
his voice cold, his trademark sneer creeping unconsciously onto his face.

There was another shuffling noise as the shadow began to
move toward him. It moved slowly and
strangely, with an exaggerated limp. As
the dim light replaced the darkness, Severus could see why. The man was lame; beneath his curious
garment, his right leg ended in a twisted stump. Other than that he was rather plain
looking. He was short but wiry, his
muscles stretched tightly on a thin, scarred torso. He had receding brown hair on his head and a
thick beard of the same color, and deep-set muddy eyes that seemed too close
together above his small, crooked nose.

�Do not let such foolish words get to you, Severus,� he
said, his thin lips stretching in a smile.
�Even gods are ugly.�

�Shall I wake her?�

The sun was high in the sky now, and the air viciously
hot. Cyrus rubbed his temples.

�She is no longer a danger to anyone?�

�She hasn�t been since sunrise. You know that.�

He nodded.
�Fine. Wake her.�

Catherine took a breath and lowered her wand to the girl�s
brow. She couldn�t have been more than twelve
or thirteen. The scars from her original
bite, white and knotted, stood out against olive skin. It was difficult to heal the kinds of wounds
that werewolf claws and teeth delivered, but the scars should not have been as
bad as hers were. Either she had gotten
very little healing, or none at all. The
poor child�

�Ennervate.�

Her body jerked.
Dark eyelashes fluttered, and then her eyes opened. Her eyes were large and hazel, and flickered
nervously around at her surroundings.
Catherine stared down at her compassionately.

�How are you feeling?� she asked softly.

The girl�s lips twitched and her brow furrowed. After a moment, she opened her mouth to
reply. Catherine, and indeed everyone at
the site, had gotten so used to the Babel spell that it took her a moment to realize that the
girl�s answer was incomprehensible.

�Cyrus�did you understand that?�

Frowning, he shook his head. �Is the Babel spell off?�

�No,� Catherine said.
�Unless you�re speaking English.�

�No. Greek�and you
hear it as English?� he said uncertainly.

She nodded.

�Ask her another question.�

Taking a deep breath, Catherine turned back to the
girl. Smiling, she asked, �What is your
name?�

The girl shook her head, her knotted black hair flying
back and forth. She repeated what she
had said the first time. It was no more
understandable the second time around.

�It�it sounds very similar to Greek,� Cyrus said, looking
mystified. �But it doesn�t make sense.�

�A dialect?� Catherine asked.

�The Babel
spell should cover all dialects, too.
All existing forms of language that the world knows of.�

�Down in the school you said the writing was antiquated
Greek. Is it possible that she�s
speaking a dialect that no longer exists?�

Cyrus looked dumbfounded for a moment. �I�I�it�s very possible.�

�Then how on earth are we going to communicate with her?�
Catherine demanded. �It is difficult to
treat a patient if you can�t speak to them!�

�I know. I think��
he said, thoughtfully rubbing his stubble, �that I am going to have to pay an
old friend a visit.�

Oh. Pain�

This floor feels much too hard to be the beach�

I try to open my eyes, but cannot tell if I accomplish it
or not. Either I am still staring at the
insides of my eyelids, or it is pitch dark.
But I think, judging by the tears that well up of their own accord, that
they must be open. There is an
overpowering smell here, something that burns my throat and makes my head reel.

�It was stupid to put him near that fissure, Apollo.�

�And where else am I going to put him? Out in the sun? Beneath a column that�s ready to collapse?�

�He�s going to be as drunk as Bacchus when he wakes up,
and you know that thins the blood � you�re never going to get that wound to
clot!�

�Listen to you, you sound like � �

A moan escapes me as my stomach decides that it does not
like me very much. A slight, instinctual
move to my side and I�ve lost it.

�Shit.� Footsteps
move toward me, scraping on the stone.
�There is vomit in my temple.�

�I told you. Move
him away from there, it�s cruel to have him breathing that filth in this
state.�

There is a sigh, and suddenly there are hands on me. I try to squirm away from them.

�Stop moving. I�m
not going to hurt you.�

Ha. I�ve heard that
too many times to trust it. And I wish
they�d just let me die in peace. I don�t
want to be a wolf. I don�t want to hurt
anymore. I am done hurting people, done
hurting myself.

�What is it going to take for you to relax?� the mystery
man mutters. I don�t think he expects an
answer, but I am going to try to give him one.
If I can talk, I can tell him to put me out of my misery.

�Kill me.� My
voice sounds strangely normal.

He sighs, exasperated.
�You mortals are so dramatic!�

�Potter.�

Ginny Weasley shrieked and made a desperate grab for a
blanket. Harry just blinked,
contemplating if he was still asleep and this was some sort of wonderful sex
dream gone bad.

�Malfoy?�

�Yes. For God�s
sake, Potter, let your girlfriend have the blanket before she explodes.�

Harry looked at Ginny.
Her face was the color of her hair.
He handed over the blanket, oblivious to the fact that he, too, was
naked except for his socks.

�Why are you here?� he asked, sitting up. Draco grimaced and plucked a red robe off the
hook on the back of the door.

�Not to see you naked, that�s for sure,� he answered,
tossing it at Harry.

�Well, it might help if you apparate outside the bedroom next time.
Or, hey, why not outside the door to the apartment? I mean, that�s a novel idea!� he snapped, his
annoyance finally replacing his endorphins.
Throwing the robe on, he practically herded Draco out into the sitting
room.

�Listen, I just apparated directly to you, meaning your physical location. It�s fortunate that I didn�t wind up in bed
with you.�

�I�ll count my blessings,� Harry said, rolling his eyes. Though most people still thought Harry might
be a target for renegades and malcontents, he had insisted that all the
protective spells be removed from his person.
If he could defeat Voldemort, he could certainly handle a few deranged
witches or wizards; really, he just wanted to experience normalcy for
once. Draco Malfoy dropping in on him
like this was, however, far from normal.
Luckily, this was the first time anyone had caught him in such an
embarrassing position.

Draco glanced at the clock.

�Augh! It�s only 6 am here. Can�t
you wait �til nine to have sex, like normal people?�

�Ginny has to be at work at half past seven. And that is
none of your business anyway! Why are
you here? It better be a good reason!�

Draco sighed. �For
once it is, Potter. I need Remus Lupin.�

For a moment Harry looked confused. But then his annoyance returned, and he tied
the sash of his robe a bit too forcefully.

�Then why couldn�t you just apparate to him?� he asked
huffily.

�Potter, I don�t know where he lives. The only reason I got here is because I�m
familiar with the location.�

�Point taken,� he replied grudgingly. �I suppose you want to me get him for you?�

�Yes. Fast. Now.�

�Why do you need him?�

�There was a werewolf attack at the site.�

�Oh! Oh, God, is
Hermione all right?�

Draco hesitated.
�Um�well, she�s missing. Along
with Snape�and my father.�

�Oh no..oh no�� Harry�s face went pale, and he sank down
into the nearest chair.

�You can relax about Hermione and Snape. There were no physical traces of them
anywhere; most of us think they escaped.
Who knows why they haven�t returned yet, but there is no evidence to
think that they�re hurt or dead.�

�But your father?�

�We found his blood on the beach, but no body. I don�t think he�s dead. But I need to know if the wolf got him.�

�And how is Lupin going to help you with that?�

�We have her.�

�Who?�

�The werewolf. We
have her, mostly unharmed. If Lupin can
communicate with her in some way�smell her, even, before she washes, he will be
able to tell if she attacked my father, or if he was bleeding all over the
beach for some other reason.�

�Doubtful,� Harry said, his brow furrowing.

�I know, but I have to be thorough, Potter.�

He nodded.
�Ok. We�ll floo him.�

And so it was that Remus Lupin found himself in a country
he�d never visited before, staring at a tranquil blue ocean like none he�d ever
seen. Though his errand was grim, he had
to admit that he was glad to be here. It
had been a long time since he�d seen anything new.

�How do you think
she�ll react to you?� Cyrus asked.

�I can�t say,� he replied honestly. �I don�t know her history. Some people trust more easily than others.�

�I don�t think she�s ever met another werewolf, except
the one that bit her. She was in a
display case, after all. Not much
opportunity for social interaction.�

�Then I hope she will be able to trust me.�

Cyrus nodded. Then
he turned to Catherine. �Try waking
her.�

The mediwitch gave him a nervous look, but raised her
wand for the spell. There was the worry
that she might panic in the presence of another wolf; they all knew it
happened, especially if the patient had no time to learn to cope with and
accept the change. No one could blame
her if she was afraid or even angry; it was no different from anything else
that negatively changed a person�s life.

The girl woke slowly,
her long-lashed eyes flickering. They
were a pretty shade of hazel that he had never seen in a werewolf before; most
had the same amber brown as him, regardless of what eye color they had been
born with. But if what the people on
site said was true, she was a few thousand years older than him. Perhaps a thousand years ago, wolves were a little
different.

Her eyes went first to Catherine. There was trust in her gaze; somehow she knew
the woman was there to help. Then they
skimmed over Cyrus. He, too, was a
familiar face, but as a cool breeze filtered by her something captured her
interest.

Her nose got to Lupin
before her eyes. Perhaps it was the
first time she was registering that unique smell that told one werewolf that it
was in the presence of another. Flecked
irises went from him to Catherine and back.
Yes, there was definitely a difference.

She spoke. Cyrus and Catherine looked at Lupin
simultaneously. He didn�t know what they
expected him to do. He certainly didn�t
speak Greek, and definitely not the two thousand year old variation. He shook his head.

�I don�t understand,�
he said softly.

Cyrus frowned,
looking as though he was deep in thought.
�It might be too convenient�but what she said almost sounded like the
modern word for wolf. Just a few sounds
off.� He repeated the awkward words to
her, pointing at Lupin.

She nodded. She was beginning to understand that this was
going to be a conversation with no words.

Lupin lifted the
scrap of clothing Draco had given him to his nose. Apparently Lucius had worn it yesterday; it
smelled musky and had a faint trace of coconut � suntan lotion, perhaps? He had never known anyone in the wizarding
world to use it, as there were several spells that served the same purpose, but
he supposed that having someone else rub lotion all over you might not be so
bad once in a while.

He held the shirt out
to the girl. She took it hesitantly,
slowly mimicking his actions. Her brows
furrowed as she took in the scent. After
a moment, she handed it back to him.
Lifting her face into the breeze, she inhaled deeply.

Lucius�s scent was
still here; Remus had smelled it himself, because the sea breeze was wafting it
in the right direction. Now she was
picking it up, too. She slid down from
the examination table, a faint grimace passing over her face. He made a mental note to ask the mediwitch for
some pain relief potions; post-transformation pain could last for nearly a
week, and sometimes it was severe enough that one could hardly move.

The girl took a few
steps toward the shoreline. Haltingly
she looked back at Remus. He nodded,
moving forward to walk with her.

�It�s amazing how
trusting she is of him,� Cyrus whispered to Catherine, watching them walk
slowly toward the fissure. �I don�t
trust a werewolf any day of the month.�

�That werewolf is a
decorated hero of the war,� Catherine said sharply. �In the final days all the mediwitches in the
United
Kingdom
were called to the battlefield. I saw
many things, sir, not the least of which was that man saving the skins of about
a hundred people. All the while ignoring
his own aches and pains, I might add.�

Though his face registered mild surprise and grudging
respect, Cyrus grumbled, �Still wouldn�t want to meet him in a dark alley
during a full moon.�

Catherine just sighed and strode away, following the
strange pair of werewolves down the beach.

�This is a lovely discussion, really,� Severus said
through his teeth, �but I have things to do and I would thank you to show me
the way out of here!�

�I already told you that your friends are all right. You are not going anywhere for now.�

�Oh? And how do
you think you�re going to keep me here?�
Snape�s voice was venomous now.
This was a serious problem, and if he had to take down this strange
little man, he would.

�I would not like to humiliate you.� The man stepped closer. He looked directly at Severus, his eyes
eerily still and wide. A red light
seemed to flicker in the muddy irises and large pupils, and suddenly Snape felt
overwhelmed with a sense of incredible power.

�Let�s not make a bad situation worse,� he amended, his
tone more diplomatic. This man, whoever
he was, was formidable.

�I very much agree.�
The balding man smiled lopsidedly, and all the indescribable intensity
was gone.

�I am trying to be patient with you,� Severus said,
struggling to keep his voice even. �But
I have a distinct hatred for surprises, and even more for riddles that I cannot
solve.�

�Then I shall put it to you as concisely as possible,�
the other man replied. Suddenly his
captor was sitting down on a large, flat slab of rock; Severus could have sworn
that it had not been there a moment before.
But the man had uttered no words and made no motions; he could not
possibly have magicked it into existence simply by thinking about it, could he? A moment later he found himself several
inches lower, perched upon an ornate metal chair. Oh dear � this strange hermit had obviously
cast an Imperius on him. He had not
willed himself to sit down - and the chair, where
had it come from? � nor could he will himself to stand up. He was trapped. He would have to play along until he found
some way to escape.

�I�m listening.�

�Good!� the awkward man said, rubbing his hands
together. �Now for the silly convention
that your kind likes so much. My name is
Hephaestus.�

Severus felt like casting an Unforgivable on himself. This deluded little man actually thought he
was an ancient Greek god! Something must
have shown on his face, for the pseudo-god�s eyes narrowed. A tense sneer formed on his lips.

�I see. You
require proof.� The fire came back into
his eyes, and suddenly the room became unbearably warm. Heat began to radiate from the pale marble,
and Severus�s mouth dropped. The floor
seemed to liquefy before his eyes, the dappled surface of the marble swirling
like molten silver. And while the tepid
air caused sweat to break out all over his body, his chair did not seem to
sink; it simply had to be an illusion of some sort, that was it! Severus knew that marble had a high melting
point, certainly high enough that such heat would dissolve his brains right out
of his head were he exposed to it. So
this could not be real�certainly not! His
deluded friend, though certifiably insane, was obviously quite powerful to be
able to create such a vivid illusion.
Severus opened his mouth to speak, but the other man cut him off.

�You see, Severus Snape, the world has many names for
me,� he said, tilting his head to stare at him.
Severus blinked repeatedly, trying to keep him in focus; the heat kept
drying his eyes out the moment he opened them.
His captor�s eyes were wild�wild and raw in a way the potions master had
never seen. �But my favorite was given
to me by the Romans,� the man continued.
The boiling liquid beneath the chair began to glow an eerie shade of
yellow, lighting the imperfect face and distorting his features. �They called me Vulcan.�

Severus was sure that it was no coincidence that the
chair dropped out from under him just then.
He closed his eyes, hoping now that it was truly an illusion and he was
not about to be plunged into boiling stone.

�So�you�re Hera.
As in�Zeus�s wife?� Hermione�s
brain felt overworked, as if someone had just handed her a particularly
difficult set of arithmancy problems.

�Yes, Zeus�s wife.�
Hera rolled her eyes once more.
�Though now that�s more out of habit than anything else�I suppose in
these modern times I could divorce him�� she trailed off, looking thoughtful
and devious at the same time.

�You�re real.�

�Yes, my dear, I am.�

�But�no one has ever been able to prove that the Greek
gods and goddesses were anything but a series of myths!� The logical part of Hermione�s brain was now
starting to recover from its shock.

�Have you never heard the saying that all myths have some
grain of truth?�

Hermione blinked a few times and then sat heavily on one
of the fractured pieces of column.

�Child, I am not asking you to accept that I am
real.� Without even seeming to move,
Hera was beside her, draping an arm around her shoulders. �When you return you can write me off as a
hallucination or a dream, if that is your desire. I only need to deliver a message.�

�You couldn�t have picked a worse time!� Hermione�s anger suddenly kicked in. �A friend of mine-� oh God, had she actually
just referred to Lucius Malfoy as her friend? � �was attacked by a werewolf and
he might be dying right now because no one is there to help him!�

�He was not bitten.�

�How do you know?� Hermione demanded shrilly.

Hera�s eyes were calm and sure when she spoke. �He is in the care of someone, just as you
are.�

�What? You
mean�another�?�

�Two, as a matter of fact. Though they do tend to bicker a lot, so I
hope they have not forgotten about him in their sniping�� At Hermione�s horrified look, Hera hastily
waved a hand and said, �He is fine, and you needn�t worry.�

Hermione took several deep breaths. She might as well hear this message; the
sooner she did, the sooner she would wake from this bizarre dreamscape. �All right.
What is your message?�

Hera�s face turned hard and serious. �I do not mince words, child. If you continue to dig at the beach in
Preveza, you will find some things that will turn your world upside down. Things that can shatter your world�s tenuous
peace.�

There was a long pause, during which Hermione digested
this vague warning. �Can you tell me
more?� she asked.

�Not just yet, I�m afraid.�

Hermione sighed.
�Most things that are worth finding can turn the world upside down.�

�Perhaps,� the goddess said, smiling benignly. Looking into her warm, maternal face,
Hermione had an irreverent thought.

�The myths always portray you as�such a��

�A bitch?� Hera supplied.

�Yes�not quite the word I was thinking of, but it will
do�� Hermione said, laughing nervously.

Hera�s eyes sparkled.
�That side of me only comes out when I am very angry. Unfortunately, my husband seems to delight in
pushing my buttons. Thus bitchy Hera is
overrepresented.�

�I see.�
Hermione�s fingers twined anxiously.
With every moment that passed, the pit in her stomach grew larger and
larger.

Sensing that the conversation was over, Hera stood, tall
and beautiful. �Back to Preveza you
go. We shall speak again.�

Hermione raised her head to say thank you, but Olympia had disappeared.
Before her lay the sun-baked beach bathed in the orange light of sunset. But clearly the light was playing tricks on
her, for she thought, just for a moment, that she spotted Remus Lupin kneeling
in the sand by the fissure.

Things that can shatter your world�s tenuous peace�

The words echoed eerily between her ears, buzzing in her
head as if they were the only things her skull contained. It couldn�t have been real. The Olympian gods and goddesses were not
real. She had encountered a lot of
things that her Muggle side once told her were imaginary, but deities�?

Hermione sat heavily on the sand. She let out a yelp a moment later when
something poked her in the behind, and hastily shifted to remove the offending
object. Her hands trembled as she pulled
something out of her back pocket; there, in her palms, was a slightly warped
halo of olive leaves. An olive crown �
the highest honor given to the victors of the earliest Olympic games. Games that had originated and been held in Olympia until the anti-pagan rule of the Roman emperor
Theodosius.

Either she was suffering some serious hallucinations that
had included a delirious romp through an olive grove, or she had really been to
Olympia. However,
just now she wasn�t sure, and she wouldn�t be for a while, because her eyes
were darkening and her brain was following suit.
- 10
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