The Curse of Swan Lake

It was the beginning of December. The Potions class had been reduced to seventeen people and all of us who were left were trying our best not to screw it up.
It was hard. Almost every class, Professor Snape picked someone to answer his questions and somehow, he managed to always pick the ones that had not prepared that well.

So far, I hadn't been picked, but I was sure it was only a matter of time.

A thin coating of snow covered the grounds, announcing the arrival of winter. The first-years were excited, but I was not. It meant that my nights outside were going to get a lot colder.
I couldn't stay inside my room. I had tried that several times at home and each time, a strong longing to be outside in the moonlight had filled me. I almost broke my window the first time I had stayed inside.

Once the lake froze, I'd have to find a better place to sleep. While I was on the water, I was safe. The kraken left me alone and I was far away from the shore from any predator. But in the winter, the lake was covered in a thick layer of ice. Even a horse would be able to walk on it.

I sighed and stared out of the window. The sky had already turned a pitch black, and it wasn't even past eight yet. The Gryffindor common room was full of students trying to finish some homework at the last minute. Several first-years were playing with toys from Fred and George's shop. The twins were no longer at Hogwarts, but they had left a legacy behind.

The moon was going to rise at nine tonight. It was a little difficult to sneak out in time when the moon rose earlier in the evenings, but so far I've managed.

"Hey, Mione?", asked Ron and looked up from his history essay. "Can I compare my essay with yours?"

I turned my head to look at him. Then I looked down at what he'd written.

Not even a quarter of a page. And three were required.

"No", I said flatly and stared back out of the window.

"Please, just this once? I could use some ideas."

"You may compare your essay with mine", I said annoyed, "when you've actually written one."
I was not in a good mood this evening. Loads of homework, sneaking out at night and waking up at dawn to get back into my dorm were all things straining my nerves. I needed some sleep. More than six hours, at least.

"Hermione, I really need your help", Ron started again, "I've already been working on this for ages-"

"You mean for twenty minutes", I interrupted him.

"Yeah, that's a long time. Please, it will only take a second-"

My head whipped around.
"You're so lazy, Ronald", I said icily. "I work for hours on my essays and you think you can just copy my work in five minutes, just because you don't want to put the required effort into it?"
My fingers tightened around my books and I quickly stood up, gathered my things and left the table.

Ron stared after me with a perplexed expression. I heard him say to Harry: "What did I say?"

A thumping sound told me Ginny had smacked her brother across his head with a book.

****

Fifty minutes later, I was outside in my winter cloak, shivering like mad. My broom was stowed away and only five minutes separated me from a body of a swan. It was eery, how accustomed I had gotten to it. The other night, I had even felt the urge to fly.

As if. The words 'Hermione Granger' and 'flying' were just two things no one could combine in a sentence. They were like two magnets repelling each other.

I raised my eyes and looked at the full moon.
It was time.

The last thing I saw was my breath misting in the cold air. Then I closed my eyes, feeling the familiar heat spread through my body. And within a second, I had turned into a swan.
Once I had entered the water, which only felt lukewarm to me, I slowly swam away from the shore. The bright moonlight shone down on me, causing the golden streaks and dots on my feathers to glow.

My webbed feet gently pushed me through the water. Several sheets of ice floated around me in the dark water, thin and see-through.

Somehow, the full moon had driven my tiredness away. And my annoyance about Ronald. My crankiness had been washed away and replaced with a warm feeling of...peace. I tilted my head back and gazed at the moon.

It was so big. And bright. No wonder wolves kept howling at it. I sure felt the urge to sing something, but I didn't think that was a good idea.

I felt a prickling sensation at the back of my neck. My instincts had been sharpened during the war and still never failed me.

Someone's watching me.

I turned my head towards the castle. The trees around the black lake should give me enough cover. So it had to be someone who was outside.

Pushing my feet through the water, I turned around and raised my eyes to the shore. I froze.

In the shadows of the trees stood a familiar tall, dark wizard.

Panic surged through me.
What's HE doing out here?

Oh crap. The full moon. Of course Professor Snape would use this night to gather herbs. And I had been so stupid, swimming into the bright moonlight in the center of the lake.
I swallowed nervously. Okay, that was something to remember. My swan brain had to be smaller than my human one.

He doesn't know it's you. He probably thinks you're just a swan.

I stared back at him, waiting for him to leave.

He did not.
Several minutes passed, during which we just stared at each other. Professor Snape was wearing a thick, black cloak and in his hand was a basket. In his other hand was a sharp, bronze knife, its tip gleaming slightly.
Aha. So he was gathering herbs.

Before I even knew what I was doing, I found myself swimming towards him. I just felt drawn to him, I couldn't even explain it to myself. And it wasn't as if he'd attack a harmless swan- right?
He surely had better things to do.

A few meters away, I stopped. I cocked my head curiously, bending my neck slightly.

Dark eyes stared back at me.
"I wonder why you've come to this place", Professor Snape suddenly said quietly. "Since your kind usually avoids humans."

I stared back at him, perplexed that he was talking to me. What was he talking about? There were plenty of mute swans in Scotland. Well, plenty of normal-looking ones anyway.

I let out a soft squawk and glanced suspiciously at his bronze knife. Even though I trusted him, my swan instincts were telling me to avoid that sharp, pointy object that had the tendency to prick.

Professor Snape shot me another unfathomable look. Then he slightly inclined his head, his dark eyes resting on me.
"It is an honor to meet a Cygnus Cantare."
He slowly bent down to drop his knife onto the ground, his eyes never leaving mine.

Wait, what?

I thought I was just a normal mute swan...with a few color mutations. Now I blinked at him, confused. It didn't really help my perplexed brain that a thought popped into my head, stating that this was kind of a romantic setting... the full moon, the quiet lake...the only problem: I was a swan.

My heart starting beating faster and I quickly averted my eyes. I had no idea if Legilimency worked on animals, but I wasn't going to put it to the test. Professor Snape remained silent, so I took that as a cue to leave, even though I didn't want to.

I turned around and slowly swam back to the center of the lake, the bright light of the moon surrounding me completely. Tiredness began to overwhelm me and I bent my long neck to rest my head on my back.
The last thing I saw was Professor Snape's black eyes bore into mine. Then my eyes closed and I fell into a peaceful slumber.

****

Okay. I had a problem. A very big problem.

I was falling in love with Professor Snape.

At first, I had kept telling myself that it was just a silly crush. But now, I could no longer deny it.
I had actually fallen in love.

Ironically, the only cure to my...condition was true love. But how would Professor Snape ever fall in love with me? And perhaps he wasn't even my true love. Maybe just a love.

Yet the problem remained. Christmas was approaching and I hoped that during the holidays, I would get my emotions in check. Because now, whenever he passed me in class, I froze like an idiotic first-year. My heart would start hammering so fast, he was sure to notice it. And I couldn't even talk properly to him anymore!

So I stopped raising my hand. I was sure he wouldn't mind, he probably enjoyed the extra silence.

Fact was, I needed a plan to regain control over my head. And my heart.
Plan A: Avoid Professor Snape at all cost, except in class, and regain your composure.

Well, destiny decided to give my plan A a big fat, fart in the face.

And I'll explain why.

On the very last day before the Christmas holidays, my last class was (of course) Potions. Everyone was filled with the excitement of spending Christmas at home and having no school for two weeks. Ron would return to the burrow with Lavender, Ginny and Harry. I had decided to stay.

Both Harry and Ginny had immediate wanted to stay at Hogwarts with me, but I told them I needed some alone time. My parents weren't exactly...welcoming after I had restored their memories. Which was understandable. The air between us was still a little frosty and it would take time for the wounds to heal.
I couldn't really deal with a house full of people at the moment, and besides: how would I transform at night? I'd have to sneak past Merlin knew how many people and Mrs. Weasley had the great instincts of a cat.

The Potions lesson had gone pretty normal. No one had gotten kicked out (we were fourteen now) and surprisingly, no pop quiz had awaited us. At the end, I packed my bag and stored my things away. I was beginning to think that everything was alright, but then Professor Snape called me to his desk.

"Miss Granger", he said curtly, not looking up from his documents strewn across his desk. "Come here."

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion and shouldered my backpack.
"Sir?", I asked and approached his desk. Behind me, Ginny instantly followed, obviously assuming I was in trouble and in need of her support.

Professor Snape narrowed his eyes.
"Potter, Weasley. Out", he said coldly and flicked his hand. The door opened on its own.

"We'll save you a seat in the hall", Harry muttered into my ear, before he pulled Ginny along with him.

The door slammed shut behind them.

"Sit", Professor Snape instructed and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

I did so and nervously placed my bag onto the floor. He didn't know about my...feelings, did he? Oh Merlin, that would be just mortifying. I could only imagine him laughing at me, for how foolish I was.

"You have shown me the past weeks that you have the required instincts to continue deeper into the field of Potions", Professor Snape's deep voice ripped me out of my thoughts.

"Instincts?", I said confused.

Professor Snape's eyes rested on me as he continued speaking.
"Brewing potions is not just something that can be done by following a book. You need to deviate from the instructions, push the known boundaries, try new ways to perfect a potion- that is a required skill for all Potions Masters. Something which you have."

I stared at him blankly. Potions Masters? Wait-
"I have never done anything like that", I stammered, "I just brew from memory, like the others."

Professor Snape cocked his head slightly.
"Two weeks ago, you replaced a purple thorn fig's leaf with its bark because it gave your Sleeping draught a stronger potency."

I shrugged.
"That was only because I knew the bark held most of the needed vitamins, more than the leaf did."

"Last week, you stirred counterclockwise and clockwise alternately, instead of simply clockwise."

"Only because that would make the ingredients mix better", I protested. "The crow's eye took so long to dissolve. And I knew the change of direction wouldn't disturb the intermediate form of my potion because it was stable to sudden movement."

"Today, you added pixie acid to your Skele-Gro", said Professor Snape smoothly.

I stared at him, gobsmacked. How did he know whenever I deviated from the instructions?
"The mooncalf's milk and the red water wouldn't mix, so I used the pixie acid as an emulgator because I suspected it would increase the potency of my potion. It was the only thing that wouldn't react with the other ingredients, so I thought I'd try that."

"That is precisely my point", said Professor Snape insistently. "You tried. Miss Granger, changing a potion to perfect it does not happen blindly. In order for a new ingredient to be added, one has to take into account all of the possible reactions that could happen with the others. You may not have realized it, but that was what you were doing. And that is a skill that will get you the job of becoming my apprentice."

My mouth fell open.
"Your apprentice?", I breathed. "As in-"

"You would brew the basic potions for the infirmary. You would accompany me on my trips to gather the necessary potions ingredients", Professor Snape listed. "And of course, you would be creating your own potion after a year."

My head was spinning. Becoming a Potions apprentice was basically a dream come true. And Professor Snape was the best Potions Master in the world. If I would become a Potions Mistress under his guidance, then all doors in this field would be open to me.
I couldn't stop my lips from curving into a bright smile.

"That would be an honor, sir", I said hastily in case he changed his mind.

Professor Snape leaned forward and uncrossed his arms, resting them lightly on his desk.
"You will start the full apprenticeship once you have completed your NEWTS", he said, "but until then you will be doing small brewing after your classes for me, which will shorten your apprenticeship from four years to three and a half."

My breath hitched.
Three and a half years, working as Professor Snape's assistant. That was- amazing. And so not what I had planned to do. Plan A was to avoid Professor Snape as much as possible. But being his apprentice meant seeing him every single day.

Somehow, I did not feel the slightest bit upset about that.

****

The first thing I did once all students had left Hogwarts (yes, I was the only one staying over Christmas), was going to the library to research 'Cygnus Cantare'. It wasn't as if I hadn't read books about my transformation, there just weren't any good ones in the libraries I had checked so far. But my busy schedule had prevented me from looking in the Hogwarts library. Which was something I was going to change.

"Excuse me, Madam Pince?", I asked the sour-looking lady sitting at the desk. She was stamping books and glared at me for interrupting her work. "Do you have any books on- swans?"

The old lady's eyes stared into my face, not portraying anything.
"Back shelf, fifteenth aisle."

She never blinks, I noticed as I said my thanks and quickly disappeared into the depths of the library. I found the right aisle quite easily and made my way to the back. My eyes expertly scanned the books, not bothering to linger on the ones called Swans-Breeding habits and White feathers-black hearts. Seriously, some of these titles just sounded ridiculous.

But then there was one book that caught my attention. It looked old and the green cover was tattered. In silver letters it said The Curse of Swan Lake.

It wasn't as if I hadn't tried reading about my ancestor Odette before, but the word curse caught my attention. Perhaps this book could help.

I swiftly pulled it out and opened it to page one. There was no index, the book just started.

I am cursed. Cursed to forever live at night as a swan, as soon as the moon rises. I will write down my story, in the hopes that my future descendants should be able to break the spell. If I do not have any children, then the curse will die with me.

Clearly, it hadn't.

My name is Ruby Ravenclaw and I am the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw.

My eyes widened. Okay, I always knew my ancestors had to be magical of a sort. And for the past year, I had known that I had a woman named Odette in my family tree. But Ruby Ravenclaw? The infamous daughter who had discovered several cures to curses concerning involuntary animal transformations?

Wow, that definitely explained her line of work.

On my nineteenth birthday, it happened for the first time. I transformed into a swan during the rise of the new moon. The process is always the same. The pull of the moon will drive me out at night and force me to stay until the sun rises. My parents do not know. And I do not plan on telling them.
The swan I transform into is a normal Bewick's swan. Nobody recognizes me once I have acquired that form.

My eyebrows furrowed. A Bewick's swan? Did I get it completely wrong? I thought I was a mute swan of a sort.

I researched my family tree and discovered that when nineteen year-old Odette was cursed to live as a swan during the day, she was already pregnant. She was oblivious to it and did not find out until after the curse was broken.
The magic transferred from her to her unborn child...and manifested. Odette's magic must have tried instinctively to fight the curse, to protect her child. The result was that the time of the transformation changed. From moonrise until sunrise, we are bound to the moon once our nineteenth birthday has occurred. And true love is the only cure.

Okay, I'd known about the true love part and the curse passing on from mother to daughter. But what about the swan form?

The form of the swan changes according to each woman.

Aha.

The swan resembles best what the inner self of the woman is, similar to an animagus form. My Bewick's swan symbolizes my strength to stand up for the weak.
My mother never transformed into a swan because she found true love before her nineteenth birthday, a rare occurrence. And my grandmother had already passed by the time this happened.
Yet she left me something behind. A list of her research. My grandmother made a list of fifty of her ancestors and wrote down their swan forms in the hopes of finding a pattern.
There is none.

The list was covering the next twenty pages. I skimmed it, until my heart stopped when I read Yvaine Walker, lived 534-600, Cygnus Cantare.

So I wasn't the only one!

I skipped ahead a few pages and found Ruby's explanation to what each swan form meant.

The Cygnus Cantare translates to The Singing Swan. It is not related to the non-magical Whooper Swan, but an entirely different species. The Cygnus Cantare takes on the appearance of a mute swan with golden streaks on its feathers-

My eyes widened and I read faster, my heart speeding up.

-and a golden beak. It is a magical creature that has the power to sing a melodious and beautiful tune to any person that deserves it.

There isn't much known about the powers of the song. Some say, the song will open up a person to their worries and help them see clearer. Others say it will heal their hearts if they were broken and even lead a person to their true love. The one listening to the song will see an image in their head and that person will be the one they are meant to be with.

The most-believed myth is that anyone hearing the song will be cured of all ailments.

Cygnus Cantare have been hunted because of these said powers and thus, they avoid humans at all costs. They have grown rare.

The Cygnus Cantare will be the swan form of women who have a strong heart and the desire to help others. The stronger their magic is, the brighter the golden streaks and the more powerful their song becomes.

Great. I needed a Cygnus Cantare to sing to me of my true love. A true love which I didn't even believe in.
I happened to actually be a Singing Swan, but what good did that do? I couldn't really sing to myself in a mirror, that wasn't how magic worked.

The book continued with the meanings of the other swans and ended with a short passage.

If you do not expect to find a true love in your life, know that you were not the only one.

Okay. Super.

I closed the book with a snap and placed it back on the shelf. After a moment's hesitation, I glanced around and quickly stuck it in my bag. I felt bad for taking it without asking, but I'd return it once I had taken notes. And in case something happened, I didn't want Madam Pince to connect the Cygnus Cantare on the black lake with me.

Maybe I'll have a restful night tonight, I thought with a sigh. Professor Snape has not shown up so far at the lake anymore and he probably won't. It's a half moon. And with all of the students gone, sneaking out will be easier.

My thoughts still circled around Ruby and the swan transformations. Why didn't my mother tell me this? Perhaps she never transformed because she was not a witch. That would support my hypothesis that the transformation was tied to magic. Which would explain why every woman had a different swan form.

****

The half moon had risen high in the sky, surrounded by thousands of stars. It was a clear night. The stars' light cut through the blackness like cold, sharp diamonds, a strong contrast to the warm moonlight. I was dozing on the lake, staying close to the shadows that the large trees threw onto the water's surface. One of my leg was resting on my side, while the other moved slowly in the water. Swans were quite efficient, it seemed.

A flapping sound caught my attention and I opened my eyes. Two ducks were flying out of the reeds to the far end of the lake. Their wingbeats were sluggish, but after a short distance they managed to swing themselves higher into the air.

I cocked my head curiously. Perhaps I could try it-

Hermione! You hate flying! What's wrong with you?

I mentally shook my head. My swan emotions were telling me to fly. I hated flying on brooms, but perhaps using my wings would be different.
I racked my brain for what I had read about swans. They could fly at a fast pace and extremely high, but in order for them to take off they needed to run several meters across the water.
I swallowed and lifted my head off my back, stretching my long, slim neck.

Why not try it? There was no one around to watch me anyway.

I turned around until I faced the far end of the lake and slowly opened my wings. It couldn't be that hard, right?

Trying to stay calm, I took a deep breath. Then I lunged forward.
My wings caught the air instantly and after a strong push, I was lifted out of the water. I moved them, up and down, trying to get higher. My webbed feet ran across the water, making loud noises.

I narrowed my eyes at the nearing shore ahead and increased the force behind my wing beats. Then suddenly, it was as if my swan instincts took over.
I knew exactly when to lift my legs out of the water, and when the right time was to tilt my body up.
Suddenly, it grew very silent.

I was flying.

The black lake shrunk beneath me as I flew higher in a wide spiral. Joy rushed through me and I opened my golden beak, letting out an excited trill. The black lake sparkled beneath me in its dark beauty and above me was the night sky, filled with the stars.

Why didn't I try this before?

Severus P.O.V.:
I was very surprised to see a Singing Swan this far north. Not because of the cold season arriving, this swan was magical and the temperature had no affect on it. No, I was perplexed because Singing Swans avoided humans at all cost.
And here was one, a young female swimming around in the black lake, just a few hundred meters away from the castle.

I had checked several times the past few weeks, to see whether she was still here. During the day, she seemed to make herself scarce. At night, however, she swam on the lake in the moonlight. It was a rare and beautiful sight to behold and I knew I had to count myself lucky because barely anyone got to see a Singing Swan in their life.

I shook my head to get rid of my thoughts and returned to the stack of parchments I had been grading. Over the Christmas holidays, I intended to finish the bloody students' essays and prepare the syllabus for my potions class. I had low hopes for even eight to last until the summer.

Except one. Granger. She was the only one who actually showed in my class that she used her brain to think. I wasn't surprised by her talent, I had known she was capable of thinking outside the box since her fifth year, when she started the DA. Perhaps it was also the fact that she had been responsible for saving my life in the Shrieking Shack, that I despised her a little less than the other students.

No, you don't despise her, a little voice in my head said. You admire her intelligence. That is why you offered her the position of being your apprentice.

I scowled.

Granger had been ghosting in my head for far too long the past weeks. Of course, at first I had only watched her skills during class to see whether she was apprentice material. Then I noticed something...odd.
Every morning, she entered the Great Hall looking like she had gotten a bad cold overnight. Shivering, with dark shadows under her eyes and a pale face, she'd make her way to the Gryffindor table alongside Potter and the Weasleys.
Throughout the day, she seemed to feel better, but it was the same thing every morning.

What do you do at night, Granger?, I thought suspiciously. Where do you go?

I forcefully pulled my thoughts away from the young woman and continued to stare at an essay from a first-year.

Bloodroses can't survive in the mountains, the student had written, because the air is too thin and there is not enough oxyggun.

I arched an eyebrow. Bloodroses needing oxygen, my ass. Those were plants that lived from sulfurous gases. What did kids learn these days?
With one stroke, I crossed out the entire paragraph and wrote beside it in red: Check your facts, Huggins, before you write such blatant idiotic hypotheses. And use a dictionary, for Merlin's sake.

Hermione's P.O.V.:
Okay, landing was definitely harder than anticipated. I sort of skidded across the lake on my belly until I was able to regain my balance. With lots of wings flailing around and feet whirling up water, I finally slowed down enough to come to a stop.

Despite my awful landing, I couldn't stop grinning. (Could swans grin?)

I'd just flown.