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The Wolf, the Otter, and the Slytherin	By : Tri Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 32023 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the world of Harry Potter. I merely write for fun.

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“How could this have happen?”

“I don’t see why you are making a big deal out of it, Harry. Lupin is alive. Does anything else matters?”

“He has a point, Ron. It is not every day that someone comes back to life,”

Harry let out a sigh as he faced the fireplace. The common room was now empty as many of the survivors went to bed around ten. It was now midnight and the trio had the common room to themselves. The shock that Remus Lupin was indeed alive kept them wide awake.

“It just does not make sense. We saw his dead body next to Tonks!” Harry exclaim, worry etch into his face.

“No one saw him die, did they?” Ron brought up as he took another swig of Butterbeer. “People just saw flash of purple flames and the Dolohov fleeing the scene.”

At the mention of the Death Eater, Hermione touched her chest above her heart. In her fifth year, that Death Eater targeted Hermione and she barely made out of the Department of Mysteries in time. The only reminder she had of that night was a tiny red scar going across her chest to her hip.

“Wait, a purple flame?” Hermione looked up at the red head. “Did Dolohov get captured?”

Ron shook his head, “He stunned two Aurors before disappearing. Hermione, you are not thinking of getting revenge on him?”

“No, he is gone, I don’t care about him. But his spell, I have never saw it before. It’s just interesting that someone can create a spell and-”

“We are not worrying about any spells!” Harry shouted in anger, cutting through Hermione’s words and heart.

“Harry, mate…” Ron stood up and laid a testy hand on his shoulder.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “I’m sorry, Mione,” he pulled from Ron and kneeled before Hermione, taking her hands into his. “It’s just, I don’t want to find out that this was a fluke. A trick by a Death Eater. I saw him, his ghost, in the forest…he was dead then!”

Hermione looked at the cool green eyes, seeing the worry and deep hurt in his eyes. She smiled, finding it hard to be even mad at him. “I understand, Harry. Don’t worry, we will get to the bottom of this. We will go to the library and-”

“You mean, you will,” Ron interjected, a playfully smile on his face. Hermione responded by throwing a pillow at him, which he caught.

Hermione stood up, Harry rising with her. “We better get to bed. We all had a long night.” With two kisses on each of their cheeks, Hermione went to the girls dormitory.

---

Like every challenging puzzle, Hermione could not relax until she solved it. After tossing and turning in her old bed as several of the girls snored or groan in their sleep, Hermione gave up trying to sleep.

Hermione pushed her feet into a pair of sky blue slippers and covering her matching night cotton gown with a white terry cloth robe. She conjured up a dummy Hermione using pillows and her hair brush. She placed the soft version of Hermione under the covers before putting her wand into her pocket.

The bookworm made her way through the portrait and through the corridors of Hogwarts. The corridors were empty, save the drifting ghost. The ghosts brought a somber thought through her wild mane. Due to the graphic nature of the Final Battle and many lives lost; Hogwarts might get a few new ghosts.

Hermione shuddered at the thought of Fred haunting Hogwarts. Him and Peeves would turn Hogwarts upside down, maybe literally. Thinking of Fred’s ginger hair and pale skin reminded Hermione of the blood and pale skin of Severus Snape.

In all of her eighteen years of her life, seven of those in the wizarding world, Hermione never saw so much blood before. The image of Snape laying on the floor, a pool of his own blood covering the dusty floor of the Shrieking Shack. His black robes soaked in his own blood as a thin trail of the red substance escape from his lips. Snape’s thin chapped lips puckering up for air, air that he would never grasp again, and trying to speak as his throat had been ripped out.

Hermione could not get image out of her head. She rested her back against the wall as her legs found it hard to stabilize themselves. Her and the boys left him to die, all thinking him as a traitor, not knowing what exactly he had done. If only if she could go back in time, save him, and help make the world see him as a hero.

Oh, what was she thinking? Even if she had the necessary potions and the time to heal him, he would rather hex her to oblivion then accept help from the little know-it-all.

“Still a life is a life…” Hermione whispered looking up at the cobwebs that manage to remain intact.

“Miss Granger?”

Hermione jumped as the voice penetrated the air. McGonagall looked much like Hermione, unable to sleep. Yet, her beloved professor didn’t manage to change into a night gown. The transfiguration professor kept her maroon robes on yet the gold rope sash across her waist was lopsided and Hermione saw the finger prints where McGonagall grabbed at the cloth to run.

“Oh, Professor McGonagall! Um, good evening, I was just walking.”

A small uneasy breath escape the elder woman’s lips. “It is no need formalities. Or excuses. Poppy informed me that you saw him.”

Hermione forehead crinkled up in confusion, “Him?”

McGonagall neared her, drawing out her wand. She casted a silence charm around them. No one from outside the invisible bubble could hear them. Still McGonagall spoke in a whisper. “Remus Lupin”

Hermione followed her example, whispering back. “How is he?”

“I was about to come and get you,”

“Oh, should I fetch Harry, Ron, and the others?” Hermione moved to escape the charmed bubble when the tired hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back.

She shook her head, “Just you. You best come and follow me.”

McGonagall release the charm around them and gestured with her head toward the Hospital Wing. Hermione followed behind the older witch. The Transfiguration professor led her through the Hospital Wing, now silent thanks to some sleepless potion. There were now several more beds, making the large room seem smaller. Hermione saw Lavender Brown asleep in a cot, her leg bandage and propped up with a sling.

McGonagall noticed her pause and reached out and took Hermione’s arm. “Come along, Miss Granger. Miss Brown will be alright, just needs several days in bed.”

“Yes, Professor,”

Hermione noticed the tiny cringe of the title. It happened the first time Hermione called her Professor. McGonagall led her down the aisle of beds and the wounded to a door off to the side. The experienced witch’s hand hovered over the knob before she looked back to Hermione.

“Miss Granger, I will trust you to keep this matter a secret. I will instruct Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley later.”

Hermione nodded, “I will.”

McGonagall opened the door and let Hermione in first. Hermione walked into a small room, it was very Spartan looking. A simple bookshelf rested against the wall between two beds. One of the beds was occupied by Lupin’s form, Pomfrey hovering over him. The Matron was having trouble giving the werewolf potions, as in his sleeping form, he kept wrestling around. A metal tray hovered never her, row upon row of potions.

Hermione felt a sense of déjà vu wash over her. Even from this distance, she recognized the vials. For two weeks, Hermione drank each of those vials after the incident at the Department of Mysteries.

It was a horrible ordeal as for the first two weeks of summer break, Hermione rested in the Hospital Wing. Each vial had a very bitter aftertaste like burnt, month old coffee with Ron’s sweaty socks soaking in it. To make it worse, Professor Snape had to administer the potions and sneered each time Hermione complain.

“If you hadn’t followed that foolish boy, you wouldn’t have to drink this.” He would often say.

Hermione was pulled from her memories when McGonagall cleared her throat. Pomfrey looked at her friend then to Hermione. The Matron looked at her for a lingering second but in that second, Hermione felt like she was being judged and valued for her worth.

“Miss Granger, thank goodness you are here,” the head nurse let out a sigh of relief. She gestured for the young to come over. “You remember the Department of Mysteries accident?”

Hermione nodded, “I can’t ever forget that. Why does this have to do with Professor Lupin?”

The healer looked at her once again, “You are overage, yes?” The young Gryffindor sighed in annoyance; she wished that she would get to the point. Pomfrey took this as a sign and took out her wand. With a flick, the patched work shirt of Lupin disappeared.

Hermione eyes widen as she looked upon the chest of her former professor. He was nearly his late 30’s or early 40’s, but his chest was something that any 20 year old male would envy. Lupin had a firm and little muscular chest followed with a flat stomach. Yet, several scars littered his chest. They ranged from hair strand thin to the width of a galleon, all of them silver as the moon.

Decorating his chest was thick and brown hairs curling into tiny circles. They were wide and spread across his chest like a large brush stroke before becoming thinner as the trial of hairs went down. Hermione eyes were curious as they followed the trail, reaching the top of his worn out pants.

Thankfully, her eyes went no further when Madam Pomfrey spoke again. Hermione sighed inwardly in relief. It was best to not think about where the trail of hairs gathered.

“Look at this,” the Matron used her wand to point.

The young witch eyes went from galleon size to the size of a house-elf. Through the rough forest of hairs on his chest was a burning, bright red scar. It traveled from above his heart down across, under the nipple, and rest along his hip.

“You have seen this before, yes?” the question was completely not needed as they both knew the answer.

“What does this have to do with me?” Hermione asked softly, her eyes resting on the all too familiar scar.

She heard the rustling of fabric as McGonagall joined Hermione’s other side. “When Poppy was checking his vitals the effects of the spell, we came across a familiar magical signature. Yours.”

Hermione looked at the woman, wondering if this was some sort of crazy nightmare. They couldn’t mean what they were saying! “I didn’t strike down Professor Lupin. I would never!”

McGonagall raised her hands in surrender, “I never said that. His magical signature is mingling with yours. Let me show you,” she took out her wand and pointed at Lupin. “Manisfestia!”

An olive light sprung out of the wand and hit Lupin square in the heart. It was a heavy minute where nothing happened until a bright orange ball floated out of his chest. Hermione suddenly felt someone knocking straight into her chest. Pomfrey was quick to grab her before Hermione’s knees gave out.

Hermione chest buckled up and she let out a soundless gasp as she felt her whole body tingling. It was like sunbathing in the tropics as the sun kissed her skin. Hermione winced in pain as a tiny ball of blue light popped out of her chest. Hermione fell back into Pomfrey’s arms.

The women watched as the orange and blue hovered in the air. Strings of light from energy balls wormed out, like strands of hair being blown back. Hermione watched as several strands from both moved and wrapped themselves another around, forming a knot between them. This even lasted less than five seconds before the tiny sphere zoomed back to the original owner.

Hermione groaned, she suddenly felt like she drank two shots of Firewhiskey. Pomfrey helped Hermione to sit on the second bed. Pomfrey handed Hermione a cold glass of water, which she pressed against her forehead. Her skin suddenly felt hot, as if on fire. The cold water cooled down the heat.

McGonagall just seem to age from one minute ago. “This just confirms it.”

Hermione voice came out wheezy, she felt like she ran two miles without stopped, “Confirm what?”

McGonagall looked to Hermione was Pomfrey fixed Lupin’s shirt. “Miss Granger, you told me years ago that when Dolohov attacked you with his spell, you cast a silence spell over him,” Hermione nodded, “I have a theory and it is that since the Dark spell Dolohov casted on you was incomplete and when the residual magic struck Remus, it…bonded you two together.”

Hermione frowned, “Just what are you trying to say, Professor?”

“Hermione, do you believe in soul mates?”

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Author’s Notes: Wow, four reviews since my first chapter, that is new for me. Well, it seems like everyone wants the S-Man in this story so I am going with that. The second place winner, whoever that might be, I might write in later. So, please review and give me some feedback!
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The Wolf, the Otter, and the Slytherin