Little Problems

Two Birds flitted through the empty halls of Hogwarts. One is a blue and silver dainty little thing, silent as a butterfly. The other is black and gray and loud. The flap of its broad wings echoed peculiarly throughout the grand halls. Halls that were more used to the silent flap of soft feathered owls than the powerful wingbeats of a crow. The occasional caw broke the silence like a clap of thunder. 

“The boy is a man?” Stranger’s voice spoke through Hermione’s mind. It had the same robotic quality in her mind as it did when he mimicked human words. His voice was like his caw, disproportionately low and powerful with a croak to it. 

“No, he was a man and now he’s a boy.” Hermione corrected the crow.

“Strange.” The crow concluded, with a hint of human thoughtfulness. 

Hermione had filled her familiar in on everything that had occurred that day. Though she had known her enigmatic companion for years, it was always unclear if he was indifferent to situations due to lack of deeper understanding or if he was simply a reserved sort of bird. It was a strange contrast to his loud and flitty exterior.

Regardless, she found his stoic personality grounding. She could talk to him for hours and he would interject with low hmms and short comments. It was therapeutic. This was the relationship that saved her from going mad down in the endless stacks of Alexandria.

Stranger was quite a loyal bird to have given her his company in such a lonely place when he could have simply left to be with the family of wild hooded crows he had come from. Like her, he had sacrificed his family to be in this world of magic. To be with her. Hermione could not look at her handsome pet without feeling a strong sense of fondness. 

“Someone’s coming.” Stranger alerted her as a heavily uneven gait began to echo gently closer.

Hermione knew who it was before he came around the corner, but she still could not stop herself from imagining that it was Professor Snape rounding the corner, his cape billowing dramatically. It wasn't him of course.

Aesop Sharp bore a strong aesthetic resemblance to Severus Snape, from his brooding, unapproachable exterior to his shoulder length dark hair and equally dark wardrobe. He lacked however, Snape's characteristic regal nose, height, and svelte figure amongst other things, instead having a more traditionally rugged kind of handsomeness, though he wore an expression of chronic stress. His brow and cheek split by some long-healed, cruel scar. His dark brown eyes were on them as soon as he came around the corner, brows furrowed in the calm suspicion of a seasoned auror, tense and leaning heavily on his good leg.

As good a time as any to have a word with the man.

He came to a stop at the end of the hall as Hermione fluttered down towards him, appearing as her human self in a flurry of red robes and blue feathers just before gently touching down on her heels. Stranger landed atop her head, nesting himself into her curls and ruining any chance at an impressive entrance.

“Good evening, Professor Sharp.” Hermione spoke with her usual cordial radiance, a polite smile on her face.

“Miss Granger.” He greeted with a reserved sort of surprise, his surly brows raised.

“Pardon, I didn’t mean to surprise you, but I do need to speak with you.”

“Likewise.” Aesop’s dark gaze searched her for a moment. It was a skeptical sort of once over, the kind that spoke of doubt. The kind that people gave her when they did not believe her impressive reputation. Hermione was not too offended. She understood that she looked unassuming at first glance.

 Hermione found herself tilting her head quizzically at him. He met her eyes, and in lieu of answering her silent question, he motioned for her to follow with a sharp gesture. Then he turned his back and he began to walk towards the dungeons, presumably to his office in the potions classroom.

Stranger peered down at her from atop her head and they shared a furtive glance before following after him.

“I was sorry to hear about Auror Baker. It was tragic what happened. He was a good Auror. So were you.” Hermione broke the silence after she caught up to him. The man’s eyes grew hard and he nodded his acceptance of her words but did not look at her.

Hermione knew a little bit about Aesop Sharp. He was an auror while she was. Though they never interacted, she had heard much about the man’s work. He had lost his career to a cursed injury sustained trying to save his partner, Baker, in an ambush. This happened quite early into Hermione’s own short stint as an auror, before Ronald had resigned to work with Fred and George in diagon alley. 

“Ah, yes, you were on the force as well. Your partner was Weasley, if I remember correctly. Fresh rookies by the time I retired.” He spoke as they reached the floor of the potions classroom. Hermione resisted the urge to cringe at the topic of conversation.

“Yes. We had a falling out after a particularly unique assignment.” She revealed openly. 

“Undercover work can test the resolve of any couple. Most of all when it calls for coercion of enemies.” He responded smoothly.

Hermione blinked back her surprise. She hadn’t expected him to know about the mission that led to the breakup of one of wizarding Britain's more favorite couples to gossip about. ‘When it calls for the coercion of enemies’ spoke of just how many details he might be privy to. Hermione found herself a little embarrassed.

“I’m still on friendly terms with several working aurors.” He revealed in response to seeing her expression. “And I am no stranger to the questionable methods one must employ while undercover. A good auror uses all of the tools in their arsenal to complete their mission.” He said stoically with no hint of judgment in his tone, which she felt grateful for.

“I hear you’re back at it as well, consulting for the Malcore Write case.” He thankfully changed the subject for her as he opened the door to his classroom.

Just before entering, her crow made a low noise in his throat that only she heard. She glanced up at the visible portion of his beak that stuck out over her forehead and noted he was intent on a space down the hall. She saw nothing, however, and entered the classroom after Sharp.

“I am. Nasty business, that.” She replied after the short pause.

“Indeed.” 

Hermione glanced around to see that the room had not changed much from Snape’s tenure. It was still cold and damp and covered in jars of grotesque pickled creatures and various unidentifiable body parts. Hermione could never quite tell if the jars were displayed for educational purposes or if they were meant to purposefully unnerve students. Slughorn had at least attempted to make the room a little more inviting during his employment. She kept such comments to herself.

“Harry Potter has been doing well in his position. As well as any man under such duress can do in any case.” Sharp went on as he unlocked the door to his office with a wave of his wand and invited her to have a seat opposite to his work desk.

“Harry would be glad to hear that such an esteemed auror as yourself has a good impression of his work.” Hermione said, taking the offered seat. She noticed, with a pang of sympathy, the black and gold Auror’s badge sitting proudly in an open velvet lined box on his desk. If she was ripped from her own life’s work, she would mourn it too.

Stranger hopped from her head and perched himself on a shelf to observe some floating eyeballs in a jar with bright fascination, appearing entirely disinterested with the human conversation.

Sharp gave the bird a distrustful glance and dropped himself painfully and ungracefully into his chair, swinging his bad leg onto an unseen stool beneath the old oak. 

“I assume you’re here to speak with me about Mister Prince?” He cut right to the chase, pulling out a dark red vial from his coat and unstoppering it. She smelled copper and iron. Pain reducing potion. He downed it like a shot of firewiskey.

Sharp was not privy to the full situation and Hermione resolved to not reveal anything he did not already know. He was fed the cover story like the rest of the staff during a meeting. An auror of his reverence however, more than likely recognizes the secretive nature around the boy and conducts himself accordingly. He would undoubtedly respect the classified information’s integrity, but the less details he knew, the better.

“Yes. His care has become a priority now that the Headmistress is gone. I think it's best if I stay close to him for his protection, so I’ve decided to take up the Headmistress’s offer to live in the castle for the duration of my project, unless of course you have any reservations about that.” Sharp waved his hand in a dismissive gesture at her last words.

“There is plenty of room in the castle. As for Mister Prince, Minerva has expressed that I allow you agency over the boy.” 

Hermione nodded absently before taking a fortifying breath.

“Professor Sharp, I must ask something of you, pertaining to his safety.”

He nodded for her to continue, countenance impassive. Hermione shifted slightly in her seat to gather her thoughts before speaking.

“You’re aware, I'm sure, about the sensitive nature of his case? He has no family.” He simply nodded at her words, steepling his fingers.

“You share a strong resemblance with the boy.” Hermione started hesitantly, causing Aesop to raise a brow. His chest rose slightly with a sharp intake of breath, a hint of his inner thoughts. It took a second for her to realize that what she said might have sounded accusatory to a man.

“For the purposes of appearance,” She went on a little faster, to steer him away from whatever assumption he might have just created in his mind. “It would serve to our benefit if we could call you a relative of his. An uncle perhaps.”

Understanding settled into his features. “You need additional cover?”

She gave a single nod. “It would be helpful, yes. Someone who can vouch for his legitimacy. I can have Miss Moffit make up the details for us. She’s quite good at creating cover stories, we’ve found.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking, “Very well, but I will be wanting something in return.” The man was slytherin, after all.

“The curse on your leg?” She asked knowingly. His jaw ground slightly and he nodded once.

“I can have a look now, if you would like me to.”

Sharp seemed to take great pain in considering this offer — likely that pesty masculine pride — then after a short pause and much scowling, nodded once more. 

—----------------

Severus Snape has never been the kind of person to simply accept a good thing as it was. Good things simply did not happen to him. Therefore he had reason to doubt and distrust.

No one did things out of the pure goodness of their hearts. Real goodness simply does not exist. How can it, when people are inherently selfish by nature? People who are ‘selfless’ are, in truth, only motivated by their own incentives. Fame, love, greed, pride, self preservation. Every selfless act can be whittled down to bare the selfish nature of its original intent. This is something understood by all Slytherin students, especially himself.

Help, therefore, is a commodity worth being suspicious of.

People liked to call him cynical. He liked to call this being cautious. 

It was all too good to be true. She simply had to be up to something. What was her end goal?

He contemplated this, strolling down the dark halls under a heavy disillusionment spell, avoiding everyone in his bid to calm his mind. It swam unpleasantly with thoughts of the unknown and endless possibilities.

His newly bubbling sensation of hope for his situation turned to mud in his hands the moment she had gone and his head filled back up with apprehension and distrust. Needing another distraction, he cast a disillusionment on himself and went out for a walk around the empty winding corridors of Hogwarts.

His sharp eyes cut through the dark, a talent he shared only with cats. It was there, down in the dungeons near his old classroom, that he heard voices.

“…Ah, yes, you were on the force as well. Your partner was Weasley, if I remember correctly. Fresh rookies by the time I retired.”  A cool male voice drifted down the hall. Severus froze for a moment before side-stepping behind a suit of armor just as they came around the bend. It was Sharp and Granger. There was a great black crow astride her head, who luxuriated in her curls, crushing the delicate ribbons by smothering into them contentedly. 

“Yes. We had a falling out after a particularly unique assignment.” Came Granger’s voice, a touch reproachful.

“Undercover work can test the resolve of any couple. Most of all when it calls for the coercion of enemies.” He responded smoothly.

Severus blinked. Grimacing as comprehension struck him upside the head in an instant.

‘They separated because she seduced someone while undercover.’ His brain had produced the hidden topic of the conversation for him without his consent.

From between the window of the suit’s arm and body, he saw Granger blink rapidly at Sharp in surprise.

“I’m still on friendly terms with several working aurors.” Sharp started, but Severus didn’t stay to hear any more. 

Having gathered that tidbit of uncomfortable information about his possible new mentor, he decided to head back to his room and pretend he’d never heard it. He silently recast a silencing spell on his shoes and walked away. Behind him he heard the pair entering the classroom, their voices trailing away.

“I hear you’re back at it, consulting for the Malcore Write case.”

“I am. Nasty business, that.”

Severus made it back up the faculty tower in record speed and decided to wait out time by reading until the witch came to collect the cloaks from him for enchanting. He was anxious to speak to her again, but whether that was in a good way or a bad way, Severus couldn't quite decipher. He tried to focus his attention on the book in his hands, but his eyes kept wandering over to the stasis chamber where he had stuffed the cloaks. Refrigerated proof of her alleged allegiance.

‘But why did I need to keep them cool?’ He wondered absurdly. 

After a full hour, just as he was finally settling into the plot of the book, there was a knock at his door. Severus shot to his feet from surprise, then tried to shake off the adrenaline before going to the door. Chastising himself the whole way for being flighty with a series of unintelligible grumbles.

Hermione smiled sweetly down at the frowning boy that greeted her. “Hello, Severus. Fetch the cloaks. My dorm has a balcony facing the moon. It’ll be perfect conditions for the charms to take.”

Severus allowed her entry wordlessly while he fetched the cloaks for her.

“Why did they need to be cool?” He asked as she touched them and nodded in satisfaction at their temperature.

“I’ll explain on the balcony. Come along.” She led the way out of his dorm and directly across the round common room into hers.

Snape took in the room. It seemed she had made incredibly short work of her unpacking, because the room was vibrant with personal belongings as if she’d always lived there. Unsurprisingly, all of the walls were bookshelves, and every inch of them was full. He should have expected her to have a personal library. 

Something moved in the darkness, hopping from a piece of tall furniture onto a lower shelf closer to him.

Beady, onyx eyes not unlike his own blinked back at him. A crow. It was mostly black save for a hood of gray that covered it’s back like a doily. The crow from earlier.

It was staring down at him, a bit too close for comfort, looking disproportionately huge compared to every other crow he had ever seen at a distance. He felt like it might reach down and bite him with that huge, solid looking beak. The way it observed him with interest was uncanny. Its small head darted side to side to get better glances at him from around its considerable beak. It puffed up its feathers, then it dipped its head and, to his immense and immediate discomfort, spoke. 

In a crude low mimic of Hermione’s voice, it said; 

“Hello, Stranger.” A prickle of creep ran down his spine.

The click of the door closing behind him brought him out of this Alice in wonderland fever dream.

“Hello, Stranger.” Hermione’s real voice sounded casually behind him in a practiced cadence. It was directed at the bird.

“Severus, this is Stranger.” She introduced him.

“Pleasure.” He droned sardonically, never taking his eyes off the massive bird.

“Hello, Stranger.” It croaked unnervingly at him, tilting its head and clicking its beak in a way that brought to mind a dinosaur.

Hermione brushed past his staring contest with the bird and made for the glass door in the back that overlooked Hogwarts valley. Moonlight spilled into the dark room, casting everything in a pale light.

He glanced around to look at her just in time for her to unclasp the lock. The door swung open dramatically as if it were on a spring. Severus rather thought it had something to do with the massive gust of air that blasted him in the face upon its opening. It blew his hair about and made him squint against it before it settled into a more reasonable breeze.

“Oh, we’re quite high up.” Granger commented, her voice hitching infinitesimally higher as she peered over the railing from within her dorms. She closed her eyes as she walked out onto the balcony and turned her back on the remarkable view. “Bring them here.” She said, summoning a chair from her tea table out and gesturing to it.

Severus gingerly arranged the robes on the chair, facing them to the light of the moon like she indicated.

“You’re scared of heights.” Severus stated as he worked.

“Astute.” She remarked after a moment, giving him a look of gentle caution. He saw the warning sign for what it was, and plowed ahead anyways, too incredulous to keep his mouth shut.

“That’s ridiculous. Can’t you literally turn into a bird? You can fly.” He reasoned, a touch mockingly.

“Not as a human I can’t. Morphing under duress is quite difficult, I’ll have you know.” She retorted, a bit defensively.

Severus wanted to press the ridiculous issue. ‘You wouldn’t be under duress to morph if you simply got over your fear of heights. You rode a dragon for Merlin’s sake.’ He wanted to say. Instead, he curled a corner of his lip down and gave a brisk nod. He deemed it unwise to irk his would-be mentor/guardian.

“Now, you asked me why the cloaks needed to be cool.” She waved her wand over the cloaks in the pattern for a heating charm and they began to glow blue. Severus’s expression quickly turned to one of curiosity at the glowing cloaks. They reflected the moon dramatically and cast an eerie glow around the balcony. 

“It’s because of the blue nymphs.”  She said mysteriously as she flung her wand about casting many complicated charms. “They go into a state of hibernation in the cold. It's helpful for storage, so they don’t need to eat as much.”

“I’ve not heard of those.” He said, subconsciously coming quite close to inspect the strange glow. His nose inches from the fabric. 

“They’re tiny magical worms that live in the threads.” she explained.

Severus reared his head away from the cloaks fast enough to nearly give himself whiplash. “There are worms in my cloaks?” He demanded. 

Astoundingly, she had the cheek to laugh at him. A lovely, tinkling sound that tickled his brain and made him frown with discontent.

“Don’t put yourself out. It’s not so horrible. They’re microscopic, invisible, and quite harmless.” She said reasonably. Severus just kept frowning at her.

“Why the bloody hell are they in there?” He demanded gesturing madly at the worm-cloaks.

“They adopt magic and enhance and fortify it. They use it as a sort of home protection, amplifying the charm's effects.”

Severus was nullified slightly by this explanation. Not because it made him any more comfortable about wearing worm cloaks but rather because the information was kind of interesting.

“They will only take to growing in a specific kind of thread that comes from beneath the bark of a magic tree in the states.” She went on. “My colleague from the library discovered them. She’s the one the owns the Moon’s Rose.”

“Extraordinary.” Severus intoned sardonically, a sneer gracing his lip. Then he thought of something and made a face. The juxtaposition between the Professor Snape expression and the face of a grossed out little boy was quite incredible.

“You said they eat. What do they eat? Do I have to feed them?” He asked with a childish grimace at the cloaks. Granger hopped up as if remembering something and extracted a vial from her pocket.

“You don’t have to worry about that generally, since they’ll just eat any dead skin cells.” Severus shuddered. “But, feeding them magical proteins makes the enchantments even more powerful.” She said, handing him the vial. His eyes flicked down to see it was full of fine golden glitter.

“Jobberknoll luster. I produce it in excess and it’s an unsuitable ingredient for the lab anyways so it makes a great nymph feed.” She explained. 

Severus regarded her with an inscrutable expression. “I went on one outing with you and came back covered in the stuff. I dare say I agree that you produce it in excess.” Severus could have sworn Granger blushed then, but it was hard to tell in the dark blue ambience.

He reached forward and accepted the vial, uncertain how to feel about the fact that he was holding an organic byproduct that was produced by this witch’s animagus form. It was a bit odd. He gave the glass a shake and watched the luster settle at the bottom. It shimmered more pearlescent than gold when there was a lot more to look at. 

He wondered about the possibility of making a memory potion from one of her jobberknoll feathers and if it would have differing effects from one made with normal jobberknoll feathers.

Briefly, he considered asking for one for experiment’s sake but it sounded oddly personal to ask someone for something that falls off their body. ‘It’s just like hair.’ He tried to reason. The comparison didn’t help, since loose human hair is gross. ‘Or like Veela blood from a halfbreed. Which you use in potions and ingest regularly.’ No. The difference was in the fact that he didn’t know those faceless witches. Hermione Granger was very real and directly in front of him.

Glancing back up at her he saw her sprinkle some luster over each cloak. “The food will last them for about a month.”

“Oh yes, I’ll just feed my cloaks once a month, shall I?” He said incredulously. Granger, who seemed to think he had made some kind of joke, gave a humored snort.

“At any rate, I may never even have to do that. It’ll end up all over my robes from mere proximity to you.” He quipped, trying to get the mirth off her face. It only succeeded in inciting an eye-roll on her still-smiling face. 

She cast a complex sealing charm over her work. “The charms will set and the glow will be gone by morning. We’ll leave them to set under the moonlight for the night.” She went on in favor of gracing him with a response.

With that task taken care of, she offered him tea, which he declined, so they bid each other goodnight and parted ways.

As was customary, Severus tossed about most of the night thinking about everything that could go wrong until exhaustion took hold and he fell into a fitful slumber.