Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

In the Darkness in Which We Are Made	By : corvusdraconis Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 24670 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: HP world still not mine. HP characters not mine. Alas. I still play in JKR’s sandbox. Rita Skeeter is still a daft cow. I'm not making money off of this.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Beta Love: fluffpanda, Wrangler of Trust vs Thrust
Warning: Um.. demons. Mated demons… doing what mated demons do.

The Darkness In Which We Are Made
Chapter 4: Awakenings

Acting Headmistress McGonagall was at her wit’s end. She glanced at the Albus’ office, the whirring and sounds of bells and chimes going off with the various knick-knacks that he had collected over the years. Since his death, she could not bring herself to clean the office. Cleaning it and reorganizing it to her liking would mean accepting that he would never come back to sit in the chair, and offer her lemon drops from the other side of the table.
As she rifled through through the floating drawers and various organizing chests that Albus Dumbledore had, bless his fantastically long beard, Minerva swore he had the organisational ability of a hoarding squirrel. She had managed to locate things from the most rare to the most mundane of Wizarding oddities, but Merlin if she couldn’t find the proper form to release Potter to St Mungo’s for the mind-healers, she was going to start chucking things out the window— starting with the Sorting Hat, who was attempting to serenade her with the Hogwarts song.
“Albus, where are the forms for St Mungo’s?” Minerva asked wearily to the portrait.
“Middle drawer, Minerva,” the portrait answered her, “behind the false divider.”
False divider?
Minerva gave the portrait an odd stare, but opened the middle drawer. Quills, auto-quills, tins of lemon-drops, paperclips that looked like they had come directly from a Muggle school desk, and a tiny charmed ruby spider caught her eye. The charmed creature skittered out of the drawer and dove behind the crystal ink pot and quill holder, peeking out at her as if it was afraid she was going to take after it with a book.
“It’s ok,” she told the enchanted creature. “I’m not going to crush you.”
The ruby spider slowly crawled up the nearby quill and stared at her, tiny onyx eyes on its ruby head shimmered with magic.
Minerva smiled sadly. Albus did love his random things.
Of all the things that could have happened, his death was not one of the things on anyone’s list.
She knew that Harry had taken it very badly, so badly, in fact, that he was isolated in the Hospital Wing after attacking Hermione. To make matters worse, he accused Severus of murdering Albus in front of all those students. He was definitely in need of mind-healers, and that require the proper release form.
She emptied out the drawer and peered inside. The drawer seems shallower than the front. The portrait had mentioned a false divider. She pull the drawer free from the desk and placed it on the desk, staring at it from all sides. It was only in the light she saw a small etching of the a triangle, circle, and… was that the Deathly Hallows symbol?
She traced the symbol with her finger and frowned. Was it protecting something?
Above the symbol was an indentation shaped in the form a perfect spider.
Minerva extended her hand to the little ruby spider perched on the quill. “I need you help, my small friend.”
The little creature slowly walked onto her hand, and she lowered it to the indentation in the drawer. The small spider hopped off her hand and into the indentation, seemingly knowing exactly what she wanted, and there was a small click as the panel slid open.
Inside the drawer was a pile of forms. Release forms, intake forms, forms for reimbursement, forms for self-immolated students— self-immolated students? She had no idea there was even a form for that. She sorted through the forms and found the one for St Mungo’s. Shaking her head, she lifted it out, but it was caught on something.
As she tugged it free, a scroll rolled out from under the other forms. Sealed in ribbon and wax, the Headmaster’s personal seal was affixed upon it. Along the length of the scroll in Dumbledore’s familiar loopy cursive, her name stood out to her: Minerva McGonagall. Tentatively, she broke the seal around the scroll and began to read.

Dearest Minerva,
I hope this finds you well, my dear, but I know that if you are reading this than things have either gone to plan or very badly. Either way, I am no longer with you, and for that, I can only deeply apologise for not being able to tell you everything I should have so much sooner than now.
You have always been my most staunch defender, and I hope you can forgive me for what I am going to write. I made the judgment that the fewer people who know about this plan the better, and it is only now, as I sit and write this, that I realise I should have told you all along. You have always been a true friend, and should have told you this more often. As I should have also told you more.
It was my fault that Tom Riddle was admitted to Hogwarts. My need to play the hero and rescue a young boy from an orphanage is what started the chain of events, leading up to the ending you already know. It was me who released the monster inside of him to become Lord Voldemort, and it was I who refused to see the Dark Arts that had taken a hold of him until it was far too late. I pride myself on being able to read people, but my arrogance is what made me think that providing him an education could change him.. I was wrong, Minerva. I was so very, very wrong.
Tom Riddle had a diary when he was sixteen. He used it to channel an old and almost forgotten forbidden magic called the Horcrux. Creating a Horcrux is the darkest and dirtiest way to split the soul and thus obtain immortality. As long as the Horcrux exists, Tom Riddle, or Lord Voldemort, cannot be killed, or rather, he cannot remain killed. He can be reformed, existing as a soul leech until he can find a new body to take control of. Many who have tried throughout history have found that in this limbo they go mad. Perhaps, so too, has Tom.
Tom’s death the night Harry lost both of his parents was significant, Minerva. It is the reason Harry survived the killing curse. Lily Potter sacrificed herself to save Harry. Her magic was intrinsic to his survival, but what it did was allow Tom’s shattered soul to split off once again and create the Horcrux he never intended to make: Harry Potter. I cast a spell that reinforced the protection Lily Potter put upon Harry so that as long as he was with blood family for at least part of the year, it would renew the magical protection upon him. That protection, however, wears off when he’s seventeen. I know you questioned my sanity leaving Harry with such a horrible family, but they were the only blood family left to him. It was the only way to guarantee that the spell his mother died to give him stayed with him.
It was only when Harry brought me the diary in second year that I realized what Tom had done to remain in this world. And thus, I have been attempting to find these Horcruxes and destroy them. I have, unfortunately, found only one: the ring of Marvolo Gaunt. The ring had a stone set in it— a stone I have been hunting for… for the majority of my life. It was the Resurrection Stone and one of the Deathly Hallows.
Long have I wished to have this stone, Minerva. Long, long, long had I dreamed to see my sister again. I just couldn’t resist. To see her meant everything. Only when I slipped the ring down my finger did I realize what it truly means to be a Horcrux.
The ring was cursed, Minerva, and I was cursed the moment it settled on my finger. I managed to block it from killing me instantly,but the curse remained. Severus came to my call and sealed the curse, but it could only stave off my death for maybe a year. In the meantime I would die a slow, horrible death. In many ways, a quick death would have been better, but at least this way, I had the time to plan something that I know you wouldn’t have approved of.
The night of my death, if all things went as I believe they will, Draco Malfoy will be sent to kill me. It was imperative that he fail in this task or his soul would be shattered. Severus was under an unbreakable vow to save Draco, set there by his mother Narcissa and his Aunt Bellatrix, lest he fail to do it. I have convinced Severus to end my life in his stead when the time came. If Severus does, it is a mercy killing, Minerva. I know you won’t see this in the same light, but it is truly an act of mercy. Every day I lived after that ring hit my finger, I have lived with agonising pain that has driven me to the brink of madness.
I have placed a set of bottles in my cabinet above the pensieve, the memories you will need to know everything, my dear friend. I am sorry that I could not be brave enough to say this to your face. I can only pray that you understand exactly the importance that Harry find those Horcruxes and destroy them, and after you see the memories, you can forgive a fallible old man.
I’m sorry I was not a better friend. There are so many excuses I could make, and some of them would be completely true, but I make no excuse for my own neglect. I can only hope you can forgive me for it, for I truly think the world of you.
Your friend,
Albus
(his seal, the phoenix)

P.S. In a box under my bed in my chambers, there is a sealed box. It can be opened only by singing that addicting little ditty you taught me decades ago when we were so terribly drunk. Inside is my formal confession in my own hand to my death, absolving Severus and everyone else for blame in it. Please, Minerva, hold it close to you, but do not reveal it to the Aurors until after the war. It is imperative that Severus’ place at the Dark Lord’s side is unquestioned. If Tom should find out that Severus is truly working for us, all will fall to ruin. I beg you, Minerva. Please do this for me. Trust in Severus, Minerva. Please.

Minerva stared at the parchment with tear stung eyes, cradled her head in her hands, and wept.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Hermione woke in the darkness of her new room, the low burning flames of the candles extinguished when Severus released his wings. She knew she was in the dungeons, but there was no cold dampness. Instead, she was wrapped in a warmth that seemed to permeate through her entire body. She instinctively snuggled further into the hard planes against her back, feeling her body fall back into the gentle lull of sleep.
The warmth around her tightened a moment and then relaxed. One huge wing unfolded, allowing her skin to be kissed with the cooler dungeon air. Her nostrils flared as the sweet scent of bergamot and leather assaulted her olfactory nerves, bringing her awareness to the growing hunger pangs in the pits of her stomach. Instinctively, she twisted in the embrace of her lover, tongue snaking out to caress his jaw, urging him to cover her mouth and transfer the daemonic chi.
She swallowed the offering eagerly, drinking it in until her stomach was sated, the ambrosia filling her veins and she pulled away reluctantly. She snuggled back into the warmth, feeling her mate’s wing fold around her once more. She felt his presence woven into the fabric of her mind. It was warm, familiar, devoted and strong. A part of her purred at the memory of both his great intelligence and great wingspan and the impressive length of his dagger-like teeth. She gently lapped at the onyx skin, coyly smiling as she felt his desire sparking in the back of her mind and against her thigh.
Severus let out a low, rumbling growl, and she shivered with pleasure. She memorized its tone and its musical rumble. She felt the pull of music of their combined names sing within the vibration of his voice. Part of her knew that she would hear his voice across the expanse of the world and perhaps even beyond that once their bond was solidified.
“Severus,” she tested the sound of his name and was rewarded by an even deeper growl as he shifted his body and wings around her, nestling the length of his penis along her damp, fleshy lips. “Mmmm,” she acknowledged. “I like your name.”
“Our name, my mate,” he clarified, rubbing his wings along her back. The desperation to reconnect their bodies has settled into a peaceful contentment, and Hermione found herself enjoying the simple pleasure of having him rub her back with his wing. Being near him, close and touching, was enough to drive away other seemingly less important thoughts.
Her thoughts focused on how she had ended up snuggled up to her mate, and her brows furrowed. “Harry tried to kill me again.”
Severus unfolded his wings from around her back, allowing her free movement. “Tried and failed.”
“I wasn’t even a day old,” Hermione sighed.
“Soon time will mean nothing to you,” he replied, nuzzling her neck and lapping his tongue across her skin in a reassuring manner. “Once your body has embraced the full transition, his attempts to kill you will be laughable.”
“Is this how it is to be until the end?” Hermione asked. “Harry trying to kill me in a hundred different ways?”
“He will be obsessed with you, one way or another,” Severus replied, “for a part of his soul went into your rebirth. Your murder broke off a part of him. It is what allowed you the choice between accepting the change or Oblivion.”
Hermione furrowed her brows. “I’m his Horcrux?”
Severus snorted. “Nothing so primitive. When you accepted my offer, that fragment of his soul allowed my magic to remake you. In a way, he shed the last of his last shard of true innocence of the soul. The power contained in the soul is vast because normally they are eternal. When you let yourself go to me, it became a part of you, transitioning in order to rebirth you. He will forever crave you, perhaps thinking it is lust or passion, because you contain the part of him he can never have back.”
Hermione pondered this. “So, you were created using a fragment of Tom Riddle’s soul?”
“Mmhmm,” he answered.
“Does he obsess over you?”
“Not anymore,” Severus said, stretching his wing out and flapping it a few times. “It was his first request of me, to take away the emotions that made him weak, or rather the emotions he thought made him weak.”
Hermione’s curiosity had, in fact, survived the transition, and she exercised it by staring into her mate’s face intently.
Severus chuckled, placing his palm to her face with amusement. “He had me remove all his connection with other people. He believed them… distracting.”
“Your price?” she questioned, her newly pointed ears swiveled towards him, making her look like Minerva in her cat form.
“He wished to have his emotion removed,” he said. “I took from him the one thing that could have redeemed him.”
Hermione gave him a polite stare.
“Bellatrix miscarried,” he said without a touch of emotion.
Hermione pondered silently. “That explains why she’s quite round the bend.”
“One reason of many,” Severus replied. “Believe me when I tell you that she was already quite well on that road before I was part of that particular equation.”
“Does he know his demon and Severus are the same,” she trailed off. What did you call a demon anyway? Definitely not a person…
Severus chuckled. “No. He thinks the demon had its way with me when I was sacrificed as a teenager in exchange for his power. He has no idea. It was actually when he started having urges to be with me that he made that first request from me, well, the demon. It horrified him to think he would have desire for a dirty half-blood nobody from Slytherin.”
“Ironic.”
“Indeed.”
Hermione licked gently under his chin, hungry again, and Severus rolled her over onto her back to give her a proper feeding, rubbing the side of her head and making smooth circles in her scalp. She drank in his chi offering, swallowing hungrily. She felt a slight pressure on either side of her head and a burst of pleasure.
“You have beautiful horns, my mate,” Severus said as he pulled away for a moment, only to have her growl and pull him back down. He rumbled in approval, giving her all she desired until her eyes fluttered and the happy contentment of a full feeding rolled her into a happy pleasureable silence.
He ran his hand lazily over her body, his thumb gently brushed against her breasts, and Hermione murmured happily, arching her back and rolling her head back and forth as the pleasure tingled and spread warmth through her body, the gentle coil of heat building at the pit of her stomach. He paused his roaming hand when a surge of her pheromones slammed into him, causing a wave of desire to rush along his skin. He smiled wickedly as he realised what she had done. “Practicing your pheromones on me, love?” he asked, his tongue sliding across his teeth.
She instinctively wet her lips with daemonic saliva, purring at him for him to focus his attention and his love on her.
It worked. Oh, how it worked.
He descended upon her with an eager growl, their bodies sliding together with practiced precision. She was wet and ready for him, and he obliged her with reapplied enthusiasm. By the time they were done indulging on each other as a tangled panting heap of post-coital pleasure, Hermione’s teeth were nicely sharpening into beautiful fangs, and her skin was starting to darken down her back and parts of her arms. Her normal pale complexion was bleeding into the onyx black of demon dermis.
Severus smiled as he pulled his mouth away from her, watching the muscles along her throat swallow the chi he supplied. His eyes glowed a bit as he felt her vaginal walls milk his cock in tandem, relishing in the fluttering sensations. His lips pulled back from his teeth, but not in a threat.
She gazed into his eyes with adoration and a kind of trust he had never known before her. She bared her teeth at him with a low, lustful growl, and rolled herself onto her knees, thrusting her arse upon and beckoning him with her gaze. He shifted, spanning his wings across the room, mixing his pheromones with her, creating an what could be described at pressurized Amortentia.
He planted his claws on her hips, mindful that he didn’t accidentally puncture what human skin was still in the area, running the tip of his cock along her lips, tracing it from clit to hole, watching as her tongue slithered out between her lips.
When his claws settled on her hips, Hermione purred, letting her tongue slip out of her mouth. New saliva glands were already beginning to form within her mouth as she felt the the ichor collect in the small pockets. As he traced her from clit to hole, her hips jerked upwards, catching his tip and allowing him to surge in.
Black ichor settled along her lips and tongue and her curiosity and thirst for knowledge rose. She could hear Severus’ grunts as he pistoned inside her. She collected a small amount of ichor on her fingertips, reaching between her legs to find where they were intimately connected. She felt Severus’ movements still as she traced his scrotum with the ichor. She gathered a bit more, this time deposit it on her engorged clit.
She felt Severus’ lusty rumble more strongly against the back of her mind as he spoke.
“Our saliva serves multiple purpose. If a regular human ingest a small amount, it acts like liquid Amortentia, only the effects last until an orgasm is achieved. A tiny amount on the skin near the temples will relax the mind. Large amounts either applied or injected will cause the mind to bend to our will. With demons, it is our aphrodisiac. Especially between us, as mates. It will only further fuel our desires for each other”.
“Oysters,” Hermione panted randomly.
Severus paused in his moments, boggling at her leaps in logic.
“They’re an aphrodisiac, or so it is said,” Hermione pulled the random factoid out from the depths of her many layered folds of her gray matter.
“Hnn,” Severus replied, whispering a list of other random aphrodisiacs that had been used throughout human history.
Hermione barely had time to register all the information as she felt Severus’ hips slam against her cheeks. A strangled groan slipped out of her as her finger worked at her clit, urging her orgasm to surface. Severus claws left her hips as he covered her body with his, wrapping his hands over her breasts as he continued to pound her from behind.
Her orgasm rippled through her body as Severus followed behind her closely. “Aphrodisiac hmm? I think I quite like the effects,” she coyly commented as she flexed her muscles against the still hard cock within her. She slowly pulled herself away from him, gently giggling as Severus flexed his hips in response.
She pushed him gently onto his back as her hands travelled against his chest. “I wonder how long the effect lasts on us.”
“Aphrodisiacs effect demons based on the amount consumed, either through drinking or through the skin. If you had applied the aphrodisiac directly onto the skin of my penis, we would not be leaving this bed for a while. Since the scrotum is separated by more skin, the effects will wear off probably in an hour or so.”
Hermione loved when he lectured her during their pairings. His voice was as powerful as the touch of his hands upon her skin, and it sent ripples of response throughout her body. Her hunger for knowledge approved, happily absorbing anything and everything he deigned to teach her, and he was a far better mentor than ever he had been when she was fully human.
She urged him on to explain more about the saliva and effects on demons as her hands drifted along his inner thighs, feeling the muscles contract at her darkening fingertips. She looked up at Severus for a moment, quietly seeking permission from him. He responded by flexing his cock, almost as if nodding a silent “yes”.
He twisted his body a bit to free the bent wing from beneath him, settling against the headboard and pillows. He spread his hooves further apart to allow Hermione to settle between them. Her hands continued to trace gentle patterns along his thick smooth skin.
As her hand wrapped around the base of his cock, he hissed at the contact. A small amount of her saliva lingered on her fingertips, sending gentle jolts of desire through him and he could see her eyes widen as she felt him harden further.
As a Prefect, she had done her fair share of catching students in closets and empty classrooms, usually, thankfully, only with their hands or mouth on the male’s genitalia. Her roommate, Lavender, never spared Hermione a thought as she openly discussed with Parvati, how Ron loved her hands and mouth used together.
Well Lavender, looks like I get the last laugh. Severus filled both of her hands, one on top of the other, with the tip exposed. She moved her hands slowly, relishing in the feel of the soft skin covering his heated length. She twisted her wrist, gently pulling down the skin that covered the tip, exposing him to her warm and talented hands, leaving her no doubt that he was quite ready and ultimately willing to go wherever she might take him.
Severus bucked his hips gently into her hands, urging her to move faster. Hermione straddled the leg closest to her for better leverage, softly moaning as his fur brushed up against her clit.
Severus watched Hermione in fascination, as she rocked gently on his leg, moving her hands in sync. His eyes closed as he felt her wetness seep into his fur, and he flexed his thigh muscles, increasing the sensation to her sensitized clit. She responded by stroking and massaging the rim of his cock, increasing her pace as she watching his head tilt back.
She shuddered against his thigh as he came and watched in fascination as he came over her hands. She waited till he opened his eyes again, maintaining eye contact with him as she licked her hand clean.
Severus watched her in wonder. She didn’t fight him as he facilitated the transformation. It was hardly anything but a complete team effort. Each coupling moved her transformation a little faster, and Severus realised it was happening much more quickly than his did back in the day. It wasn’t that his transition hadn’t been pleasurable, but something seemed to tell him that the demon and Hermione were truly merging together, both in body and spirit. Perhaps it helped that she was embracing the Change without reservation. It seemed to be giving her a few unforeseen side effects.
He could see Hermione Granger inside the demon. They were becoming truly one. The demon instincts were growing, but they were not blanketing Hermione Granger’s ferocity of spirit, fierce intelligence, hunger for knowledge, and unquestionable loyalty— loyalty that was transferred to him alone. It was the greatest gift she could ever bestow upon him, he was certain of that. He wondered what it would happen if he let the presence of Severus Snape out to couple with his mate— would he, too, allow them to merge together completely instead of warring for dominance as two separate entities?
It wasn’t that Severus Snape hadn’t willing agreed to the transition. He had, but the nature of Hermione’s change was different. In opening herself up and making herself more vulnerable, she was trusting both her mate to protect her and her demon to bond with her completely. It was so very… Gryffindor. Severus Snape, the human, had far too many untrustworthy experiences to open himself to the demon’s complete integration. There was the human and the demon, but rarely did the two meet with mutual thoughts or integration. There had been no reason to, at least, until most recently. The demon had a feeling that if he let his human side out to embrace the miracle that was Hermione, their separate halves would be far more willing to join together as Hermione’s was already doing.
Hermione was gently licking the back of his hand, her tongue sliding up over his fingers and over her claws, leaving a dark trail of daemonic saliva up and down his skin. It stirred very protective instincts in him.
Mine. Mate. Protect.
Hermione stopped when she sensed him staring at her, somewhat shyly pulling away. He touched her cheek and pulled her to him.
“None of that,” he admonished. “You are free to groom me any time you wish, unless we are trying to look like normal humans.”
She happily snuggled up to him, spent from the multiple orgasms, and her own body’s shift to accommodate new parts. A rush of pheromones hit him again, only this time he had the desire to cuddle her mercilessly, and he didn’t fight it at all. They would work on teaching her how to swap back and forth from forms after they cemented her demon one.
Later.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Minerva stood in front of the Great Hall and raised her hands before the morning meal started.
“Attention,” she said loudly. “Attention, everyone.” She rarely ever used a spell to make her voice louder. Everyone usually sent mouse-quiet when she started speaking. There were exceptions, usually a few in the back that were oblivious, but they ended up getting smacked upside the head by their fellows. It all evened out in the end.
Minerva sighed and began, "As some of you may have heard or seen yesterday, Mr Potter suffered what Muggles refer to as a breakdown. The stress of losing a godfather and a grandfather figure especially as an orphan has taken a toll on his mind. This was not properly treated from the beginning and thus has accumulated to the physical outburst some of you witnessed last night. He is currently being seen by mind healers and we expect a full recovery.”
Murmurs and conversation broke out over the Great Hall. Minerva silenced them with a wave.
“As you know, Miss Granger was injured during the altercation. She will be under Professor Snape's care until the trauma of Mr Potter's breakdown is healed. We ask you for your understanding at this time and to give her the utmost privacy during her recovery,” Minerva finished her announcement and sat down.
Conversation began in earnest from the High Table and across the Great Hall.
Ronald Weasley stabbed a sausage from the nearby plate and began to eat, not even bothering to finish chewing as he said, “I don’t know why ‘mione would chose to hide behind that greasy old dungeon bat. She could have attached herself to some other teacher like McGonagall.”
Seamus shook his head. “Professor McGonagall was standing closest to Harry, Ron. The last place she’d want to go is there.”
“I know why,” Neville spoke up with a sheepish smile.
Eyes and ears turned to face him.
Neville flushed gently at the attention. “I’m just saying, of all the teachers she could have picked, she hides behind Professor Snape. The one Professor everyone knows is more than capable of taking any of us out before we can even blink in the right direction. If I had to hide from a friend who just tried to… kill me, he’d be the top choice.”
Ginny shook her head. “Neville’s right,” she agreed. “We all tried to get him to stop. He just snapped. It’s like he didn’t even recognise her, and he accused Professor Snape of killing Dumbledore.”
Seamus ruffled his hair. “I thought he was getting better,” he said. “Coming back into the Common Room, he looked so relieved.”
“I just hope he pulls himself together before the Aurors come,” Dean Thomas said after quaffing his drink.
“Aurors? Why Aurors?” Ronald squeaked.
“Cormac snuck an owl out before breakfast,” Dean replied. “It’s either to the Aurors or we’ll see news of this across the evening papers. He had that look about him, you know. He’s been trying to get the “special job offer” from the Aurors for ages, and you’ve all heard him. Boasting about his connections. He thinks this will help him get a job when he graduates.”
“Hermione would say that’s bunch of nonsense,” Ginny replied. “They look at your N.E.W.T.s first.”
Dean shrugged. “I’m just saying,” he placated, “I hope Harry pulls himself together before the Aurors come. It would better for him.”
The Gryffindor all exchanged glances and silently went back to eating their breakfast.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Hermione moaned softly as Severus reattached himself to the curve of her neck. She flailed out her arms half-heartedly, trying to crawl out of bed, but wings, arms, legs, and a dexterous tail pulled her back. She moaned, mewled, and tried to fight it in an attempt to figure out where the bathtub was, but Severus was not cooperating in the slightest. As far as he was concerned, his mate belonged with him until she could make the full change on her own and maintain it, and so far, even with the regular feedings, she still relied on them to induce her transformation into her demon form.
“Severus,” she mewled. “Please, I want to take a bath.”
“You smell wonderful, all my favorite scents. Ink, parchment, cinnamon. If you get close enough to the surface of the skin, you can smell me as well,” he rumbled into her neck, burying his muzzle into her hair. He lapped at her neck with his warm and seductive tongue, and her eyes rolled back into her head. With every lick he gave her, she shuddered, and finally she could take no more. She snatched his arm and began to lick his skin in long, luxurious strokes of her lengthening tongue, unable to resist reciprocation.
Even as she worked on bathing his arm, Severus moved on from her neck and shoulder to across her back. His warm tongue trailed up and down her skin, causing her writhe in pleasure, abandoning her task. He grinned against her skin, but offered her his arm in order to get her back into grooming him in return, but the grooming had become a challenging game of who could bathe the other and distract the other from their task.
Severus, however, was winning the war of attrition, and soon Hermione was flailed out on the bed, back to him, as he gently groomed her body from head to toe.
“Mmmf,” she murmured, “Seeevvverrusssss.”
She could feel the burn of his smile on her back.
Her eyes fluttered, her hands were clenching, unclenching, and clenching. Dark talons pushed out from the tips of her fingers as her hands jerked, twisted, and reformed into their more monstrous shapes. Her skin was turning darker as patching of jet black skin were forming in greater areas. She panted softly, her muzzle was starting to form on her face. Slowly, centimeter by centimeter, her jaw was elongating as her teeth reformed. Her tongue flicked in and out like a serpent’s, lengthening, blackening, and writhing like it was alive and separate from her.
Her chest heaved, breaths coming in short gasps as the pleasure sent a glorious warmth throughout her body. He was working on her ears now, body completely covering her as his lithe tongue working on the sensitive flesh of her outer ear before entering it with a teasing flick, causing her to buck against him as the signal of the sensation went on the express train to lower places in her body.
He began to lick her hands, his tongue running up her palms and between her clawed fingers, and her legs began to convulse, crack, realign, and lengthen. Her feet fused into hooves as dark black hair spread down her legs all the way down to her ankles form into tufts.
Her body was thrumming in desire to make the full shift and stay in that form to better mate with Severus, but she was still not quite there yet. While her body was impatient, Severus was the opposite, coaxing every bit of change out of her he could and sustaining it a little more each time.
By the time he had bathed her from head to toe and back up the opposite side, Hermione’s body was languid with desire and lust, but the hunger for chi would be not be suppressed. She lapped at his chin desperately for another feed, and moaned in happiness as he gladly fed her more of his potent chi. The chi could be seen travelling amongst her vessels beneath the skin, darkening her even more, changing her both on the inside and out, and Hermione felt her mind floating in that happy place where everything was wonderful as tendrils of the demon’s mind fused even more intimately with what remained of Hermione Granger.
She welcomed the fusion, relishing the blissful feeling of their union, the warm acceptance of understanding that no human had ever been able to give her on the same level.
As Hermione panted after taking his latest offering, she stared into his beastly face with gratitude and adoration. He was so perfect. His muzzle was thick and full of shiny, lethal looking teeth. His eyes were the blackest of night in colour with a strange violet glow to them which changed depending on his moods. He had broad curving ram horns that jutted out from his hair and curved around the sides of his head. Dark runes flickered over the surface as if etched by some great artist. His ears came up like the old paintings of Anubis, tall and handsome, and his mane of slick hair was decorated in metal cylinder clips that tinkled together like a windchime as he moved.
His wings were the most beautiful sight Hermione had ever laid eyes on. Expansive and capable of filling the room if he so chose, fused along his spinal cord. When it wasn’t out, Hermione remembered seeing markings on his skin, as if a tattoo artist had inked them in.
His tail was long and inviting. She wanted to rub her hands all over its soft downy fur and scales. The base of his tail joined the curve of his arse intimately, covered in velvet, down-like fur, but starting around the midpoint, it sported tiny, ever so perfect obsidian scales that reflected dark rainbows when exposed to light. The underside of his tail was soft and smooth. She knew it perfectly prehensile and was far more sensitive than the tips of her fingers.
Merlin, he was so perfect. He will sire perfect children. His genetics are strong. We are strong. Together we shall make perfection.
“Do you ever ponder having children?” Hermione asked. Her demon self seemed to be convinced they could— wanted it even. Hermione wasn’t really arguing, and judging from the numbers of times they had copulated in under 24 hours, she would be pregnant before the end of term if demons were anything like humans.
Severus wrapped his arms around her. “Not much when I was alone. I find myself thinking more of it now that you are with me.”
“Would you like to have,” she trailed off, confused. “What are demon children called?”
“Sprogs,” Severus answered with a chuckle.
“Mmm, sprogs,” Hermione answered. “Would you… like to have sprogs with me?”
Severus kissed her muzzle, wiggling his tongue into her mouth to give her the answer, and she moaned as her instinctive need to feed overwhelmed her. When she finally pulled away, she gave him a pleading look to not distract her when she was trying to be, well, slightly less distracted by his handsome, perfect, well-built, generously winged, beautifully long-tailed—
“Will you answer me? she managed to get out, trying to focus.
“I would,” he answered her with a curl of his lips, showing his fangs. “If only it were that easy.”
“Why do I have the feeling it’s not just a matter of you and me getting together under the stars and having a picnic dinner and following horizontal entertainment?”
“My mate, if it were that easy, we would already be pregnant,” Severus replied both with seriousness and amusement. “Ever wonder why stories often says that demons barter in souls?”
“I’m not sure, actually,” Hermione confessed. “The books I read were all contradictory.”
Severus snorted. “Souls are not what truly interest us, but the energy they provide. Demons require a large amount of stored soul-energy to become fertile. We do not require the person to be dead, but we can siphon off the power that basks around a soul and store it to increase our fertility, but that is not the only problem. Even if we were to gain such power and obtain fertility, we would still have to conceive under some very… daemonically appealing conditions.”
“Not fine wine and a good dinner with fresh oysters?” Hermione asked, good-naturedly.
Severus smiled at her, his lips pulling back from his teeth. To a human, it would have looked like he was going in for the kill. “Moon phases, death counts, places of mass death, and just about another hundred more possibilities depending on how complicated you want to be.”
Hermione shook her curls around her head. “I know I should know this. You shared this information to me when you first turned me, but—”
Severus pulled her closer, the metal clasps in his hair clinking together. “You’ve had an odd transition, my mate. I am simply glad you are feeding regularly and not fighting the change.”
Hermione frowned, nuzzling up against his jaw and licking under it. He responded almost immediately, covering her mouth with his to provide her as much chi as she wished to drink in. When she pulled away long enough to lick her lips clean of the black fluid, she said, “Why would I fight becoming closer to you?”
“The obvious answer would be ‘because I’m a monstrous demon that corrupts youth and sacrifices babies’,” Severus answered.
“Well, you are a demon, at least,” Hermione licked his muzzle affectionately. “However, from personal experience, it seems there is plenty of corrupted youth without your help, judging from how I ended up here.”
Severus cast his gaze down. He was privately very glad that Harry had been a selfish, murdering git. He was given Hermione, yet Severus knew that being happy for someone being murdered by their best friend was hardly the conversation Hermione needed since the event only occurred yesterday evening. Her human thoughts were still not completely merged with her demon ones to give her… perspective.
“Love,” Hermione said, pulling his muzzle towards her as she stroked his soft lips. “Though I may wish to eat his heart myself, I do not fault you for being happy that he did commit the act that allowed us to be together. Could we have been drawn together… any other way?”
Severus shook his head in negative.
“Then, I suppose I shall be glad that my once best friend was a selfish, ignorant, murdering, bastard,” she whispered against his lips, her tongue teasing his to come out and play.
Hermione seemed to think of something, and she turned her head away, casting her gaze down. Severus felt her discomfort and drew her nearer to sit across his lap, hugging her close, allowing him to settle into her scent.
“Would you have… even liked me as a human?” she asked.
“Daemonic emotions are,” Severus said with a pause, “not attuned to humans. Normally, it is like a foreign language. While demons have emotions, they are only for other demons. Humans are so different, it is like… we have been so far removed from what made us human that we can no longer connect.” He rubbed her shoulder with a whine, licking her neck with apology. Part of her, the part of her that was still human, believed herself unattractive.
“It’s different when you were in the circle,” Severus said. “In the circle, I could connect to you. I could feel you. I wanted you— needed you. I felt that you were compatible, special to me.”
He pulled away from her gently so that she could look at him, see the sincerity in his eyes. Her horns had receded along with her muzzle and claws. Her skin was faded back to a normal human complexion. She looked terribly human and vulnerable.
“I knew when you stepped in that circle that you were different,” Severus said honestly. “I knew that I could give you my heart and… trust you to keep it safe, if only you could trust me long enough to make the Change for me.”
Hermione ran her hands down his chest gently, waves of sadness rolling off her. “I suppose carving out a daemonic circle to stand in just to talk to you would have been an odd way to live a relationship,” she said cracking a small smile in hope to inject humour into the topic.
Severus snorted. “Here, stand in this circle so I can understand your odd human emotions.”
Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. She smiled a little more, leaning into him. “Part of me just wished that I would have been interesting enough to find someone the normal way. Spill coffee on someone at a café, run into them again at a bookstore, find out they were a wizard, and they found me interesting— more interesting than Quidditch. I never seem to do things easy, do I? Is this normal? Me feeling your hunger to drive my tears away like you have to fight off some interloper that wants to steal me as their mate?”
Severus drooled a little, his black ichor dripping from his mouth as he shrugged. His wings curved around her and pulled her close to him, and his tail wrapped around her waist, tugging her in. “I know how we met was not… conventional. I could not have bumped into you at a café or a bookstore. I will admit, it amuses me to imagine Potter being stupid enough to cast a demon summoning circle in the middle of a crowded bookstore. That would take balls.”
“Severus!” Hermione sputtered, snuggling into his chest.
“Know that I cherish you now, and I will until Oblivion. My heart beats in time with yours. I long for you, I need you, and the very thought of you having not survived the transition tears at me. I could not bear it. I would pine for you until the end of all things. I would destroy much trying to regain what slipped through my talons. When Potter cast that curse on you, I wanted to tear him to shreds. I wanted to cast aside my human guise and eat his heart for hurting you.”
Hermione stroked the base of his wings with her hands in the spot she knew he would appreciate. “I love you,” she whispered, tenderly licking the side of his jaw.
It was in that moment Severus knew that she meant it. He felt it radiate from within her body, and he understood that part of her transition was purging the parts of her old life. Demons loved hard and bonded fast when they found “the one.” It was almost impossible not to. Two highly compatible energies sang to each, drawing them together like opposing polar fields. The moment her blood had fallen in the circle, he had known that she was his. It was instinct and so much more than that.
Hermione was still stuck somewhere between the human and demon, and that unfortunately meant dealing with some of the insecurities that had lead her to their shared moment in the present. When it came down to it, however, she loved him. It was pure. It was genuine.
And what was even more amazing was, for the first time in his combined human and daemonic life, he loved someone that loved him back with all the passion he had lying in wait for just the right demon. All it had taken was a selfish, horrible, act of murder, and fate had plucked Hermione Granger from the coils of mortality and placed her in Severus’ daemonic presence to decide whether she was worth offering to Change her.
As his muzzle pressed into her mouth and opened for her, his tongue seeking her welcoming warmth, he knew she had been worth it.
She always was; he had always been too human-blind to notice.
She moaned softly into his mouth, her hands clenching as she grasped his back, clawing his skin with her fervor.
Oh, yes. She was most definitely worth it.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Days past without incident, but considering that neither Severus nor Hermione left their shared quarters the entire time, incidents could have occurred without either of them noticing.
“Why do you stay here?” Hermione asked curiously. She stretched out across the bed with a lazy sprawl, “Hogwarts, I mean.”
“It is strangely easy to feed here,” Severus admitted. “Plenty of highly charged emotions, conflicts, and ire to feed a demon. I don’t have to travel outside to feed and risk being sucked into some random summoning circle some layperson is casting, using a Ouija board from the general store and candles from the Muggle market.”
“I somehow expected something more complicated,” she said with a chuckle.
“I am posing as the Dark Lord’s agent, which puts me in range of equally delicious feeds,” he said, “and I am Albus’ agent on the inside, both of which are much easier to maintain here at Hogwarts.”
“Does the Dark… Vol… Tom? What do you call him? Tom sounds… well, it’s not exactly the same when someone goes, ‘Who do you serve?’ and you have to answer ‘Tom’,” Hermione huffed.
“Use ‘Dark Lord,’ Hermione,” Severus said. “He has a Trace on his other names. That is why there are so many… alternate names to call him. And, yes, calling him Tom sounds utterly ridiculous.”
Hermione frowned. “Does he know you and Severus… er… damn this is hard. Does the Dark Lord know the demon he summons is also… you?”
Severus looked at her with amusement. “No.”
“How is that even possible?”
“The demon that Changed me did so after he was released from the circle,” Severus explained. “The demon took me with him, the Dark Lord thought I was done for, and the demon let him think it. By the time I made my miraculous ‘recovery and return,’ the Dark Lord did not did not seem to notice that a different demon was answering the summons, nor did he ever summon his demon when Severus was required to be there at the same time. That was a secret he would never share to any of his Inner Circle.”
“So, he thought the demon would have his way with you, kill you, and then be ready to answer summons?” Hermione asked, her eyebrow arching.
“Sounds kind of asinine when you say it outloud, doesn’t it?”
“Very,” Hermione admitted.
“Most people who summon demons are not thinking clearly, Hermione,” he said. “That is just the way it is.”
“Maybe it’s like zebras,” Hermione said randomly.
“I beg your pardon?”
Hermione chuckled. “Maybe, just like how demons cannot connect to human emotions under most conditions, they cannot tell one demon from another. They all look the same. Like zebras. No two zebras look alike, yet people tend to think they all look the same. The exception being those who know what they are looking for.”
“You are ever the bookworm, my mate,” Severus rumbled, earning himself a cuff on the shoulder.
“Can someone really summon you that easily?” Hermione boggled. “I mean, if I go for a walk in London I might be called on?”
“A demon bound in service of a contract is immune to summons from other summoners. Any free roaming demon within range must answer the Call,” Severus explained. “Some random bloke doing a ritual in Iceland would not reach far over to Japan.”
Hermione wrinkled her forehead, questions forming at the various bits of information Severus provided. He kissed her brow until he felt her relax, having arranged the questions in her mind the best that she could, “I thought you were bound to the Dark Lord’s service?”
Severus smiled wickedly. “To be released from contract, a demon must be refused three times their requested payment after asking for a task to be done or a payment is considered void for a task done in good faith.”
“He actually denied you?”
“He denied me many times, but what released me was a void payment,” Severus said.
“Whatever did he ask you for?”
“He wished to know which of the boys was actually the one fated to destroy him,” he answered.
Hermione found herself more surprised at her lack of emotion over Severus’ role in Harry’s life. Her old self would have been hysterical. “How did he void his payment?”
“Payment for the information was the life of Lily Potter,” Severus said. “As Severus, I went to Dumbledore to plead my case to save them all, knowing that I had already told the Dark Lord which boy was to be targeted. I implored Albus to save them. All of them. Albus wanted a promise of my service to the him, to his little phoenix organization in exchange for his assistance. Albus then allowed them to choose their Secret Keeper instead of being it himself, and, well, we all know what happened then.”
Hermione mind was piecing together the puzzle of Harry’s fate one piece at a time. “I wish to eat his heart,” Hermione said coldly. “Peter Pettigrew’s.”
“I would gladly give it to you as a courting gift, my mate,” Severus replied, “but I fear it would be utterly disgusting. He is truly the prime example of human depravity. There are no emotions within him to season his heart and make it palatable. All of what he is makes him as disgusting as the rest of him.”
Hermione curled her lip and then sighed. “What does make a good ‘courting gift’?” she asked, redirecting her curiosity.
“There are some traditional demons that still swear by virginity,” Severus said, licking his teeth.
“And how does one wrap virginity, Severus?” Hermione scowled at him.
“I would be more concerned on how you would even find someone who still held onto their virginity in today’s age,” Severus said honestly.
“Ahem,” Hermione huffed. “I happened to be one, until someone swooped in and claimed it.” She stabbed a finger into his chest with a frown on her face.
“You are a rare and beautiful specimen of perfection, my mate,” Severus cooed.
Hermione mumbled something under her breath.
Severus chuckled, drawing her close to him and rubbing her shoulder in a way that made her ears disappear from the side of her head and grow on the top in a nicely formed pointed funnel. She purred happily as he groomed her ears as he kept rubbing.
“Courting gifts as basically a symbolic power gift or gifts that help encourage fertility, since it is always an issue with demons. They are usually given by the male to the female to prove he that is a good provider so the female does not dump him by the roadside like a sack unwanted holy items.”
“Little late for courting gifts then for us, hrm?” Hermione murmured drowsily, enjoying the petting, “considering you are stuck with me.”
“Never too late, Hermione,” Severus replied, nipping at her ears. “Perhaps, I wish to prove I am a good provider.”
“Just don’t stop rubbing my shoulders and grooming my ears,” Hermione muttered, “and I’ll gladly sign a parchment saying you are a good provider.”
Severus chuckled, and the sound warmed Hermione from top to bottom. His tail curved around her waist, slithering around as it curled between her legs. She hummed her content as the length of it pressed up against her, rippling gently against her clit.
Hermione gasped as his mouth covered hers in a kiss, as his hands continued to stroke her head, her eyes crossing while his other hand made circles around her breasts, and his very mischievous tail moved between her legs in just the right manner to send her into convulsions. He fed her his chi at the same time, and the dark energy flooded into her system.
Her eyes were rolling back as her horns started to grow backwards from her skull and curve back around to the front. Her skin was rapidly becoming a dark onyx black, and she panted heavily in between mouthfuls of her mate’s potent chi. Her slipped from their grasp on his biceps and they reached out for something to grab and she found her mate’s tail and began to stroke it, petting it like one would a cat.
Severus pulled himself away from her mouth, ichor dripping down the side of his mouth as he noises vibrated from within his throat, purring and growling as her hands stroked closer and closer to the base of his tail. Her hands smoother the smooth velvet underside of it, reveling in how soft it felt.
It was his turn to pant at her ministrations. His talons and feet jerking as Hermione lavished attention on his tail. His muzzle opened by her ears as he panted, a low whine of pleasure escaping his throat as her movements grew more confident, stroking closer to the base of his tail. His wings were vibrating, and she realised he had lost control of them. His teeth were snapping open and closed involuntarily as the pleasure he was overcome with seemed to paralyse him. The end of his tail was thrashing back and forth like an angry cat’s but he clutched her tighter when she attempted to stop stroking the base of his tail. She was worried that he was angry, but it didn’t take long for her to realise the wild thrashing of his tail was simply uncontrollable.
He pushed her backwards, trapping her body between his and the bed. He whined, moaned, and gripped her body tightly. “Please,” he panted. “Please don’t stop.”
Hermione, curious as always, stopped petting his tail, and Severus groaned as though she were torturing him. Hermione wasn’t intending to stop, however. She silently asked him to let her up and he obliged, curious as to what her next steps were. When he tried to sit up with her, she pushed him back onto the bed, face down, moving to straddle him over the legs. He let out a soft groan into the bed as she gently began to lick the base of his tail with her tongue.
Severus came undone, his arms flailed outward, body vibrating like a cat purring in a sunbeam, and his muzzle was twitching as his teeth chattered together. His ears were pinned to the side of his head, and he let out a series of unbridled moans of pleasure.
Hermione licked against and again, missing no spaces along the length of his tail. Her mouth was filling with the chi she had taken from him as well as a surge of her own, and now she used it to lubricate the path of her tongue along the sensitive flesh at the base of his tail. Once the tail was generously covered, she flipped him onto his back, covering his muzzle with her own, letting her chi slip into his mouth.
Severus groaned at the feeling at new taste of her chi. The mingling of his chi with her only stirred his passion. He fisted her hair and pulled her up his body, letting her straddle his groin. He flexed his hips, rubbing his cock against her, coating it with her juices.
Hermione pulled back and he let out a whine. Her muzzle formed as her tongue snaked out between her teeth, letting him see the black ichor drip down her chin. He locked his gaze with her, unsure of her next actions, only to realize what her next move when she lifted herself from his erection and slid down his body.
Severus lost all words and sounds when she slid her mouth over the head of his twitching cock, wrapping her tongue around him and began to suck. She released him fully and blew gently over the tip. He watched as she let the ichor collect in her palm before she reached out and grasped his cock.
The mix of ichor and her juice pulled him into a brief orgasm, his hips jerked and a small stream of sperm splattered across his chest. She knew what the ichor would do to him. And all that left his brain again, and she lowered her mouth over his cock, taking it in, sucking and hollowing her cheeks as she lavished over him.
She stroked the base of his tail with her free hand, smearing the black lubrication around with the sensitive pad of her hand, feeling her own pleasure starting with the touch of his skin on her palms.
"I'm supposed to be helping... transform you... oh Merlin, woman... temptress!"
Hermione paused as her elongated tongue slid over the tip of his glans. "What was that, lover?"
Severus could only whimper a reply, words having left him somewhere between the power of her saliva and the talent of her tongue. Sure, demons could manipulate a human like putty, but Hermione was molding him with her enthusiastic new knowledge acquisitions like there would never be a stopping point.
She licked down the length of his penis and continued to stroke the base of his tail, and Severus did not last long. His hips thrust upward into her mouth as he released his come into her mouth as his body spasmed uncontrollably. His wings vibrated like crazy and his tail moved so fast it appeared he had twenty tails at once. He let out a roar as his body made one final spasm as the last of his load exited his spasming cock, and collapsed in panting, whining, growling, purring heap of satiated demon.
Hermione’s grin spread across her face like the rising sun. “Oooo, Severus. I want to do that again!”
Severus’ eyes were the only thing able to move in order to connect with her. All that escaped his parted muzzle was a soft whine for mercy.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Hermione was cuddled up against him as she slept, and Severus wasn’t sure why he was even awake. She had molded him into the most undignified puddle of daemonic goo with the stroking of his tail, and then, if that wasn’t enough to send him direction into the throes of orgasm, she had milked his cock at the same time. It was torturous, glorious, and beyond worldly, and he was pretty sure he should be sleeping with her after the performance she had done on him.
She lay against him in partial transformation, her skin half blackened, her small hands twisted into beautiful talons, and her feet were half formed into hooves. She had managed to retain some of her demon traits asleep and Severus took that to be a good sign.
Still wondering what had caused him to wake from the slumber, he let his hand travel down the length of her body, relishing the feel of her skin. He stopped when he reached a contour he was not used to and looked down. The start of her tail was growing from the base of her spine.
At last!
Once the tail grew in, the wings would be the last to emerge, and once those grew in, they could work on shifting her into the demon form as her true sense of self. She was so close.
He smiled as he felt the chi gather in his mouth and he pressed his mouth to hers as his free hand slid down past her legs and began to rub the base of her growing tail.
It was only fair for him to return the favour.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Harry paced the length of his room. Aurors in Hogwarts. He had heard the news from the chattering nurses, and he knew if Aurors were within the school, there was a good chance they would detect the magic he had used to summon the demon. If they traced it back to him, his entire mission would be stopped before he could even start it.
Remus and Tonks had stopped by to visit him and Tonks hadn’t picked up on anything, but at the time, she hadn’t been purposely looking. If she had, he might have sensed the trace of what he had done. Neither had Moony. It wasn’t close to a full moon so perhaps the wolf was still asleep within Remus. Perhaps he should have waited until he was at Grimmauld Place to do the ritual, but if he had, who would he have had to give to the demon to appease it for its service?
A nagging voice in the back of his head said, “Hermione.”
Harry shook his head. No! I did what had to be done!
The talk of the hospital wing was that Hermione had been sequestered off in isolation to recover from what he had done to her.
It wasn’t Hermione! It was a demon using her face!
As adamant as he was that it wasn’t Hermione that he had attacked in Gryffindor Tower, he couldn’t help but remember the genuine fear and panic that had come off of her as his hands wrapped around her neck.
It was the demon! Afraid you were going to kill it!
But now, he was in a pickle. If the Aurors even suspected anything was amiss… they would run traces. If they thought he was under the influence of some Dark Arts spell, they would still run traces. It would come back to him either way, and he had to throw them off the scent somehow!
Use the demon.
Harry made a fist, digging his nails into his palm. The demon was to be used against Voldemort. He couldn’t waste a task on this and risk that the price would go up for defeating Voldemort.
What good is having a demon if you are rotting in Azkaban? What if they give you the Dementor’s Kiss for summoning the demon in the first place? You won’t even remember you have a demon to summon to get you out of it. You’ll be eating your own drool for the rest of your life while Voldemort laughs at your failure.
Harry stared at the back of his hand where he had hallucinated the dark circles to be. What if that had been a sign on how he could summon the real demon to his side for help? His room had been warded so he couldn’t leave and attack someone else in his “fugue,” but he could still summon the demon here. He was in an isolated room. No one was around.
He traced the circles on the back of hand, but nothing happened. He did it again, hoping that repetition would work. Nothing happened. There wasn’t a flush of magic, heat, or anything to indicate there was anything connecting him to the creature he had summoned.
He scratched the back of his hand in irritation.
Did he need a wand? No, in the shower, he hadn’t had a wand. The fake Hermione had just appeared.
His nails were digging into the back of his palm, drawing small droplets of blood. He hissed in pain but stopped when he realised the back of his hand was getting warm.
Still no demon.
What else did he have to do? Since a bloody song?
Call her name, idiot.
Hermione? No! Hermione was dead. Why would he call a demon by his dead friend’s name?
I suppose you have another name to call the demon? Mr Demon perhaps? Demon-You-Summoned-But-Never-Had-a-Name-For?
He scratched the back of his hand harder, drawing even more drops of blood with his frustrated scratching tic.
“Hermione,” he groaned.
All at once, there was a burning, scalding, and simultaneously freezing pain and he clutched his hand in agony, and he passed out back onto the bed.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Hermione groaned as Severus kissed the valley between her breasts, tongue swirling patterns over her skin. He apparently had decided that returning the favour was the gentlemanly thing to do as his ichor seeped across her skin. Her back arched off the bed as he lightly bit down on her nipple, lapping at the teeth indentations.
Severus smiled as he continued to make his way down her body, stopping to lap at various spots of human skin that still remained. From what he had seen, only small areas had yet to embrace the Change. But he was a patient man and would tend to his mate’s needs as often as required.
When he reached her thighs, he let the ichor cover his tongue as he leaned in to lap at her folds. Hermione let out a list of incomprehensible sounds, and he felt her walls tighten over his tongue. He continued to let ichor fill his mouth, transferring it onto her body, lapping the length of her slit before circling her clit. Her hips moved off the bed, and he could feel her hole clench around his tongue, seeking the familiar intrusion and friction needed to complete her orgasm.
Hermione growled as her back came off the bed, tail forming from her sacrum. It looped around Severus’ waist, flipping him onto the bed beside her as she straddled his face. He reached up and stroked her tail, marvelling at the texture and heat that radiated off of it.
His attention returned to the body above his when he felt her hands wrap around the base of his cock, tip being lapped at like candy. A slow whine slipped for his mouth as he felt her ichor being absorbed by his skin. He peered downwards, watching his cock disappear between her lips, tingles of lust circling along his groin as the ichor made its way into his system.
Two can play this game.
He gripped her hips, pulling her closer to his face. Tongue reached up and eagerly lapped at the juices that glistened from her core. Her lips were flushed and swollen. He dipped a finger in, stroking the velvet walls.
Over his cock, Hermione groaned, vibrations travelling along her throat. She paused briefly to look over her shoulder at her mate, issuing a silent challenge. First to come would lose the challenge. Severus raised a slim eyebrow at her, challenge accepted my love.
Hermione pulled her hair over a shoulder and braced herself against the bed. Hermione Granger was best at studying. This was the final exam. Unknown to Severus, her roommate, Lavender and Parvati, always discussed their escapades loudly in their dorm room. What was the best way to suck a boy off? What made a boy groan and what made a boy whimper? While she was uninterested in the working of sex, she still retained the information.
Severus barely had time to react when Hermione took his cock fully in her mouth and vibrated her throat. His cock spasmed in her hot cavern and his talons dug into her hips. His head pressed back into the pillows as she pressed down on his perineum and stars burst in front of his eyes. Come spurted from him into her mouth and Hermione silently cheered. Game and match my love.
“I believe I won that round. Now, what should I take for my prize?” Hermione whispered into his ears and she twisted around into his arms. Severus could only let out a strangled moan as she settled over his body. He noted her hands had fully transformed into talons as the points gently scraped over his chest.
His cock, still affected by the ichor Hermione had dripped over him, was engorged and weeping at the tip. He watched as Hermione shifted her tail to wrap around her body, and slid further down his body till he could feel the heat radiating from her core. A list of words that would have made a sailor blush slipped from his mouth as Hermione rubbed her essence over his cock, sufficiently lubricating it.
His eyes closed as Hermione guided herself down his length, sense assaulted by her vaginal walls surrounding him. He instinctively flex his hips, grinning when Hermione let out a moan, following the rhythm she set as she let herself glide over his length. He grunted as she sped up, and he reached a hand down to rub her button of nerve endings.
Her walls fluttered and he could feel her orgasm approaching. He braced himself against the bed and sat up, hugging her to his body and changing the angle where the tip of his cock hit her walls. Reaching up, he collected the ichor on his palms and set to massaging the underside of her tail.
“Sev...Sev! My hand...it’s burning!” Severus barely had time to grab a hold of her wrist to see before she vaporized out of his sight. He slammed his fist into the bed, talons tearing through the silk and cotton.
Potter had summoned her.
-o-o-o-o-o-
He woke to a blinding headache and almost call out for Madam Pomfrey when he bolted into a sitting position. His gaze fixated on a figure sitting on the nearby counter.
Dark cloven hooves dangled from crossed legs. Pitch black fur covered the length of the demon’s legs. A long tail lashed back and forth on the counter in agitation. As his gaze traveled up, the visual was not quite complete. While the demon seemed perfectly daemonic from the waist down, but from the waist up, her skin was blotchy. Part of it seemed like human skin tone, while other patches were as black as pitch. Harry blinked rapidly as his eyes took in the naked demon. Oddly, unlike the demon he had seen in the shower, this version of the demon had no wings. Half-formed horns jutted from her skull, and the face— the face was Hermione’s except for the pulling back of her lips from teeth that were far too sharp to be human.
He gaped at he demon.
"Really, Harry," Hermione rumbled. "You shouldn't be so shocked. It's because of you I'm like this. If you hadn't tried to murder me a SECOND time, I would still be blissfully human and unaware. I would be sleeping away waiting for my power to accumulate. I would have slept for years, perhaps, had you not called to me the first time and then tried to kill me a second time."
She stared into his face, black ichor seeped through her unnervingly pointed teeth. "How much more do you want to fuck it up, Harry? I was having the most excellent...ride of my life."
She passed her hand between her legs, finger glistening with a liquid that he recognized from his passionate encounters with Ginny. Lifting her tail, she stroked the underside, frowning at the sensation. "It's just not the same when you have to do it yourself."
“I know you’re not really Hermione, demon!” Harry snapped at the vision of his dead friend mixed with the traits of a demon. “Why come to me still wearing her face!”
“Believe me, Harry,” Hermione replied without expression. “Had you waited maybe an hour more, I would have probably made the full shift. I still need a little help in that area, unfortunately, seeing as I’ve only had a few days at it. You aren’t exactly giving me the agreed upon time you were given before making your first summon, Harry, so what you see is what you get for now.”
“No!” Harry yelled. “You are not Hermione! Hermione is dead. Why are insisting on pretending to be her?”
“You are right, of course,” Hermione said with a cruel smile. “The Hermione you knew is dead. You killed her, offering her up to a unnamed demon in exchange for the power to ask for favours for one year. But I, Harry, am so much more than the innocent and naive Gryffindor chit that trusted you with her life. I am the power you bargained for. Like it or not, you’re going to have to get used to this face.”
Harry cursed at her. “You’re aren’t Hermione! Hermione would never have—”
“Found herself at the threshold of the Abyss and only to find one hand willing to save her life from her murderous friend, Harry?” Hermione completed for him. “I assure you, when you stand between life or death and salvation is offered, the face it wears doesn’t seem to matter as much as you might think. Perhaps, Hermione wished to live. Perhaps, she made a choice for a chance for something better than to die with a dagger in her back.”
“You twist words using her voice, but I will not fall for it, demon,” Harry spat.
"Tsk, tsk," Hermione said, interrupting Harry's tirade of disbelief and denial. "Aurors are coming. Do you not hear them talking to Madam Pomfrey? Do you wish them to see me? Do you wish them to know what horrible things you are capable of?" She licked her canines with her elongated blackened tongue. "Perhaps I can lay here, quite dead on the floor— seemingly murdered in my friendly attempt at reconciliation."
“I want you to clear my name! Make sure the Aurors don’t trace the summon back to me!” Harry blurted.
“There now, Harry,” Hermione purred, “that wasn’t so hard, now was it?”
“Well?” Harry demanded.
Hermione licked her claws with her tongue. It slid out from her mouth with unnatural length, moving up and down across her fingers suggestively, and Harry grit his teeth as he fought down a surge of arousal as she did so. “Terms, Harry. I will do as you ask, but something must be promised to me. Something that is equivalent to the extent and nature of your request.”
“Tell me what you want, demon,” Harry seethed.
Hermione leaned over, pushing her breasts together as she placed her chin upon her palms. Harry’s emerald eyes focused in on the mounds of creamy flesh that was pushed up. He peered up at the demon, only to find her leering at him, “I want Ginny’s virginity.”
“What!” exclaimed Harry in complete disbelief.
Hermione’s expression did not change. “Her virginity, Harry. I want her to not lose her virginity… specifically not to you, Harry. I want it for my own ends. Perhaps so she might enjoy a nice romp in the closet with someone else— someone other than you deflowering her,” Hermione paused, licking her pointed teeth, “inviting, eager, heat. It will be me to decide who and when, but it will never be you. That is my price, Harry. Those are my terms.”
Harry heard male voices approaching from the next room.
“Ah, he’s in the next room,” he heard a nurse say. “Acting Headmistress said we should expect you. You are from the Auror’s Office, yes?”
“Yes, ma’am,” a voice answered. “May we go in? We have some questions to ask.”
“Sure, sure,” the nurse said. “He’s in the room right over there. Let me take down the wards.”
“Yes!” Harry said in a panic. “Yes! I agree!”
Hermione’s face darkened into a malevolent snarl. “As you wish, Harry Potter. I will hold you to it.”
Harry clutched his hand in agony and dark ichor dripped from the black circles on his hand. He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to drive off the pain, and after a few seconds it receded. Harry opened his eyes and stared at the demon, only to find the room empty.
The demon that looked like Hermione and not Hermione at the same time, was gone.
He looked up at the door frantically as brown-clad Aurors stepped into room. “Ah, Mr Potter,” the older-looking male Auror greeted. “We just wanted to see how you were faring after the incident.”
Harry looked panicked. Had the demon left him to the Aurors?
“We traced that nasty bit of Dark Magic to you,” the Auror said grimly, “but you’ll be happy to know we caught the wizard who was addling your brain and making you see demons. We just wanted you to know that. Madam Pomfrey says she’s still going to send you to Mungo’s for a spell just to make sure you’re no longer under the influence.”
Harry let out his breath agonisingly slowly.
“Ms Granger has agreed that you weren’t in your right mind at the time, and isn’t pressing charges, Mr Potter,” the other Auror said. “It would be best if you didn’t attempt to see her until Mungo’s give you a clean bill of health.”
Hermione? Alive?
“You’re very lucky, Mr Potter,” the elder Auror said. “Most wouldn’t give you a second chance after someone doing such a thing to them. She must really believe in you.”
Harry nodded dumbly.
“Well, we’ll leave you to rest,” the elder Auror said. “Good evening, Mr Potter.”
“T… thank you,” Harry blurted awkwardly.
The team of Aurors looked him up and down, and then turned on their heals and swept the room in unison, closing the door behind them.
Harry stared at the back of his hand. It was pristine and unblemished.
Maybe he was going mad.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
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In the Darkness in Which We Are Made