CHAPTER 13
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 13 ~ Returning Home
Hermione returned to Severus’ home with everything she meant to purchase, immediately placing the receipts in the top drawer of the Potions Master’s desk as instructed. Paying for the items had been relatively simple. When asked what form of payment she preferred to use she stated the items were to be charged to the account of Severus Snape. His account was referenced and her name was listed beneath his, under “Sponsored.”
A couple of clerks who knew the snarky professor curiously gave Hermione the twice over. So, this witch was the charge of the pale, bad-tempered wizard. Who would imagine he’d provide Patronage for anyone? Well, Hermione didn’t have any marks on her so she must not be suffering too much.
Hermione was required to press her thumb against the parchment for identification purposes, then her items were charged to the Professor’s account and a detailed receipt given her, listing not only the items, but the time and date purchased as well as the clerk who handled the sale. Hermione imagined it was for record keeping and possibly prosecution purposes if she misused the funds provided by her patron for her research. Most likely the clerk named would be in court to testify against her if she were charged with misuse.
Eli was nowhere to be seen when Hermione arrived home. In her experience, house elves always popped up when their charges arrived after shopping to help put away items. Eli’s absence meant something was amiss. He had been very angry when last she saw him. Had he decided not to serve her any longer? Could a house elf do such a thing?
Hermione first went into her bedroom and took out her package from Cedric’s Sex Symposium and put it in her nightstand drawer, still wrapped up. She pushed it far to the back, flushing a bit. Even though the Potions Master had given her the coupon…she didn’t want him to know she actually went to the sex shop. It wasn’t the most adult reaction, but there it was.
Hermione then walked downstairs to the spells lab and took out her research items. She took the packages out of her robes pocket, placed them on the counter and enlarged them. She took out a small child-sized piano, a metronome, staff parchment, star charts, protractors and compasses, several EverSharp pencils with erasers and the duplicated copy of “The Harmonics of the Soul.”
Hermione arranged the items neatly on the counter, sat down on the stool and made sure everything was properly positioned for researching, then returned back upstairs. Eli was still absent. Worried, she called for him.
“Eli? Eli?” the witch shouted loudly.
Suddenly, a rather sullen voice sounded behind her.
“I am here, Miss,” Eli squeaked.
Hermione spun, then gasped, bringing hand to her mouth as she looked at the elf.
Eli’s head had knots and bruises all over it, one of his eyes was swollen and half-closed and all his fingers had little rags tied around the tips. The elf’s other good eye was glazed with pain.
Hermione ran over to him, kneeling down, her eyes full of worry.
“Eli! Eli what’s happened to you?” she asked the elf.
“Eli gave bad service to the Miss. Was disrespectful. Eli punished himself for his badness. Am so sorry Miss. So, so sorry. Is worthy of clothes Eli is,” the elf said sadly.
Hermione stared at him for a moment, horror on her face.
“You did this to yourself just because you lost your temper? Oh, Eli,” the witch said, tears forming in her eyes, “You shouldn’t have done this. Everyone loses their temper.”
Eli shook his head.
“Not good house elves, Miss. Never supposed to lose temper with Master or Mistress…not that way. We complains quietly to ourselves, Miss. Not disrespect. Eli was very wicked, bad elf. Deserves clothes,” he said again.
“No you don’t Eli,” Hermione said quietly, standing. “Come with me to my room and let me fix your hands and head.”
Eli shook his head stubbornly.
“You are disobeying me, Eli,” the witch said.
Suddenly the house elf charged headfirst into the wall, Hermione screaming as he hit it with a thud and fell back, greenish blood oozing from his head.
“No!” Hermione screamed as the elf struggled to his feet and charged the wall again. Hermione pulled out her wand and stunned the elf, who fell to the floor. She ran over to him and picked up his small bleeding body in her arms.
“Oh, Eli. You poor thing. And people think House Elf servitude is all right. It isn’t all right if you do this to yourself because you think you’ve displeased who you serve,” Hermione whispered, carrying Eli into her bedroom and gently laying the elf on her bed.
Hermione walked into her bathroom and took out a number of potions from her medicinal stores and carried them back into the bedroom. She sat down on the bed and gently pulled Eli over until his head rested in her lap. She pointed her wand at him.
“Enervate,” she said softly.
Eli’s good green eye opened and he looked up at Hermione rather dazedly at first. Then he realized where he was and began to struggle.
“I order you to lie still, Eli and let me tend to your wounds,” Hermione said sternly.
Eli ceased struggling.
“The Miss should not…” he began when Hermione cut him off.
“Don’t speak, just drink these potions,” the witch said, offering Eli one vial after the other, the elf drinking them down. They worked and his eyes cleared up, the knots, bruises and cut on his head disappeared and his fingertips were healed. He had purposely burned them on the stove.
Eli sat up and turned so his scaly legs dangled over the edge of the bed. His head hung dejectedly and his ears were flattened to his head in shame. Hermione looked at him.
“Eli, while I am here you will not punish yourself in any manner. Do you understand me? Not for any reason at all. I forbid it,” the witch said.
Hermione wasn’t comfortable giving orders to the elf like this, but it was the only way she could be sure he wouldn’t do himself harm.
“Yes Miss,” the elf said sullenly, not looking at her.
“And I don’t want you thinking about what happened this morning anymore. Everyone loses their temper. You are very loyal to your Master. I understand why you were upset with me. And you are right about some aspects of it. You just have to realize that I see things differently with your Master. I am not here because he is being kind to me. We have an arrangement. We are both taking what we need from each other. There are aspects to our arrangement that are difficult for both of us, I imagine. Your Master isn’t used to sharing what is his. And I am not used to sharing my body the way I agreed to. We aren’t used to it yet. Not used to each other. I’ve only known the Professor as a brilliant Potions Master, but someone selfish, sarcastic and rather cruel to people, Eli, even though he served the Order. I don’t see him the way you do. Maybe before this patronage is over I will see something good in him,” she explained to the elf. “I think it best if we don’t discuss how we feel about him anymore. All right?”
Eli looked at her and nodded.
“Yes Miss,” he said.
“Good,” Hermione replied, resisting the urge to pet the elf on his head. “Now, no more about what happened. We are going to pretend that we are just getting acquainted again…and I am starving. Could you make me lunch?”
Eli hopped off the bed, fully restored.
“Yes Miss,” he said, bowing low. “A most yummy lunch for the Miss. I go now.”
Eli winked out.
Hermione let out a huge sigh and scourgified the green blood off her robes. She threw away the empty bottles of healing and pain potions and washed her hands. Poor Eli. He must have suffered so much while she was gone. Hopefully, this wouldn’t happen again. He was just expressing what he felt. Apparently that wasn’t allowed.
Hermione understood house elves enjoyed being bound, but that still didn’t make it right in her opinion, not if things like self-punishment were part of their service. Ah well. This was the wizarding world. No one would take up the cause of the House Elf. She found that out years ago at Hogwarts. Even Hagrid told her to leave them alone when she tried to campaign to give them freedom, rights and pay.
This wasn’t the muggle world. No one interfered in the personal lives of others on a social level. There were no protests if a witch chose to terminate a pregnancy, or if two people of the same sex wanted to be married or adopt a child. Wizarding society allowed people to make their life choices and deal with the consequences of those choices on their own. So no matter how she felt about Eli’s situation, she had to leave it alone.
Eli made her a huge ham sandwich, piled high with ham, cheese, sweet pickles, tomatoes and mustard, as well as a large, cold glass of sparkling pumpkin juice. She ate every bit of it, the elf smiling at her.
“Not so much a bad witch,” the elf thought as he looked at her. “Maybe not so blind either.”
When Hermione finished her sandwich, she looked at Eli.
“Eli, that was the most delicious ham I’ve ever tasted,” she said to the elf, who looked around the kitchen very guiltily.
“Was not the usual ham, Miss,” he said in a low voice, his ears pressed flat against his head “Was the Master’s own. Eli wants to make the Miss a wonderful sandwich…so uses that.”
“Really?” Hermione replied, dropping her voice as if the Potions Master could hear them to comfort the elf.
“Yes. It is called ‘Iberico ham. Muggles makes it. Is very good. Very expensive,” the elf whispered, his green eyes whirling.
Hermione had heard about that kind of ham, but never tasted it before. The ham itself came from Spain, the highly-prized meat harvested from black-hoofed Iberian hogs. The hogs were treated royally, living a leisurely free-range life and eating up to 20 pounds of acorns a day. The bellota-ham cuts, marbled with fat and infused with flavor from the acorn diet, are cured in mountain air for at least two years. A very, very expensive meat. Obviously the Professor was a connoisseur. He would probably have conniptions if he knew Eli was feeding Hermione his treasured Iberico ham.
“Well, thank you, Eli…it was very delicious,” she said, “We’ll just keep it between ourselves.”
The elf nodded and grinned then cleared the table. Hermione stood up, stretched and patted her belly. She was a bit sleepy, but decided against a nap. She wanted to read the “Harmonics” book for a while to see if she could get any tips on translating the planetary map of Harry’s soul into music. Then she would chart his soul pattern based on his birth date and time. According to Harry’s birth certificate, he was born at seven thirty-one in the morning. Hermione found that interesting because he was also born the seventh month and thirty-first day. She was sure that was significant.
Hermione said goodbye to Eli and headed down to the lab.
She had work to do.
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Severus hadn’t visited his home in over a month, though he kept tabs on Hermione through the magic mirror, wondering what the hell she was up to. On the blackboard in the Spells lab, she had drawn two charts of what appeared to be an over the top view of the solar system, with the sun in the middle and only seven planets encircling it. Underneath each planet was a single letter of the alphabet. They both differed, the planets in different locations in each chart.
She also was working furiously on some kind of calculations, her hair a complete rat’s nest…proof that whatever she was doing had taken her over completely. Eli came down with sandwiches and had arguments with her, presumably about eating. He always won however, though he had to dodge an irritated hex or two. Severus smirked at this. Hermione had very dark tendencies.
He remembered how she had idiotically tried to start a campaign to give house elves more respect and rights. Now look at her…firing hexes at one. Luckily, as an elf that served Voldemort, Eli was extremely nimble at dodging hexes. Deatheaters would hex the elves for fun, and Eli had retained his survival instincts.
The Potions Master watched as the witch made chart after chart, crumpling up work she had been hovering over for days, then starting over. Her eyes had that hungry look the Severus remembered when she was discovering some new knowledge.
Finally it seemed she had gotten what she wanted, then for the next several days it was all compasses, protractors, points and more calculations. She had not gone near a cauldron or wand for more than three weeks.
It was when Hermione began cautiously plunking notes on what looked like a child’s piano and making musical notations that Severus’ curiosity couldn’t be contained any longer. That Friday evening he arrived at his home and after rummaging through her bedroom, immediately went to the Spells lab, opening the door and entering. Hermione was so absorbed in her work, she didn’t even hear him.
The wizard silently approached the witch and stood behind her, looking over her shoulder at very complicated planetary charts with all manner of colored lines arcing from planet to planet, and symbols running along each line, and a kind of multiplication chart using planetary symbols instead of numbers. He recognized the symbols for trines, sextiles and squares representing degrees of planetary interaction. Hermione’s brow was deeply furrowed as she added a note to the staff paper in front of her.
She was writing music? Music?
The Potions Master’s eyebrows rose. He was sure she had an explanation for all this, but she was supposed to be working on Harry’s situation, spells or potions.
“Using my galleons to create symphonies, Miss Granger?” he said suddenly. “I doubt you are a good enough composer to earn me any galleons with your lyrical notations.”
Hermione started, turning around quickly, her hand going to her heart. Severus smirked, pleased he had startled her. She took a deep breath.
“You could have let me know you were here,” she said scowling at him.
“I did,” he replied, “Now what are you doing?”
“I’m notating the music that should heal Harry’s broken soul,” she replied, turning back to the sheet music.”
“What?” Severus said incredulously, his face contorting at such a ridiculous statement. He was about to blow a torch at her wastefulness, when she slid her journal over to him.
“Before you bust a blood vessel, read,” she said.
Severus snatched the journal from Hermione’s hand, pulled up a stool and started reading. She had recorded quite a bit of work, and his frown soon turned to a look of interest as he read what she was doing, what it was based on and her findings. It took him about forty-five minutes to get through it. Finally he put the book down and looked at the notations.
“So this is?” the Potions Master said.
“The opening melody to Harry’s soul,” she said softly, her eyes shining. “It’s only a few notes…but there is something about them…something that touches me.”
Severus eyed the notes, and the timing, playing them in his mind.
Hermione reached over to the little piano and hesitatingly tapped them out.
(CLICK HERE TO LISTEN TO THE BEGINNING OF HARRY’S MELODY AS PLAYED BY HERMIONE)
She was no musician. Severus had to admit (to himself of course) those few notes were rather moving.
“And you hope to do what with this?” he asked her, though her journal had covered that.
Hermione turned to him.
“After I complete the score, I need to try and find a Harper…someone who has Music magic. A Harper can turn ordinary music into something more…he or she could bind this score to Harry’s broken soul like a missing pattern and allow it to repair itself. I couldn’t find a Harper listed at the Ministry. They are usually virtuosos, very talented musicians,” she said. “I figure I will check out a few bands or orchestras to see if I can find someone who plays with great skill. Maybe they might have untapped powers, or I can enhance their playing magically.”
“I see,” Severus said, looking at the notations. It seemed Potter’s score would be interesting. He might duplicate it and see what it was about when Hermione was finished with it. He looked at the witch. She was a mess.
“You’ve been taking care of yourself in your usual manner when working on a project I see,” he commented, sniffing delicately. “You need a bath. You stink to high heaven. It is fortuitous I didn’t have carnal intentions toward you tonight. I would have been completely repulsed.”
Hermione bit back a reply that she would stay in a constant state of stink in that case. The Potions Master’s eyes glittered at her anyway. He knew she was thinking of saying something very stupid.
“As it stands, I’ve only come to collect my receipts. I will be returning to Hogwarts now,” the dark wizard said, his dark eyes washing over the witch. “Get a bath, for gods’ sake.”
Severus exited the lab, Hermione sticking her tongue out at his back as he strode up the stairs, robes billowing.
Yet seeing the wizard had a very odd effect on Hermione. She felt a bit randy at the sight of him. The witch had been so caught up in her work that she hadn’t given a moment to thinking about sex. But now…shit.
Their initial sexual encounter had been rather one-sided, but the Potions Master had quite a large cock…no doubt intercourse with the wizard would be good despite his coldness. But hell, it could be months before that happened. Hermione felt herself getting a little wet and found the scent of arousal mixed with unwashed body was not good. She did need a bath…and maybe a little something else.
She thought about the Wicked Wheezer dildo in her nightstand drawer.
Maybe it was time to break it in.
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A/N: At last, chapter 13 up. I know that the strain of music played is actually called “Hedwig’s Song” but I always think of Harry when I hear it, so that’s why I used it. I think it’s beautiful. Ah, the sight of Severus made her randy. Hmm. Severus seems as cool and controlled as ever. But then again, she did smell…maybe if she hadn’t he might have done something other than collect his receipts. Please review. Thanks.