Chapters 171-180

A Meeting of Wands

‘Well, Severus,’ Hermione asked with forced cheerfulness, ‘ready to polish some wands with me?’

Severus scowled at her. ‘Harry already made that joke. It does not improve with repetition.’

‘Sorry. Chalk it up to a specifically Gryffindor brand of gallows humour.’ She fell silent and withdrew her wands from their sheaths.

Severus was already dressed as a Necromancer, wearing a leather bandolier with Alina’s seven bells slung across his left shoulder. She knew that this very moment Minerva McGonagall was presenting the sword of Gryffindor to Harry. Hermione was also ready to go—warm in Muggle jeans, blouse, jumper, and her robes. Her winter-cloak lay tossed over her chair.

But now the time had come to test the Sempiternal Solution.

On the table in front of them sat a wide bowl with a silvery salve. The solution had thickened nicely. Two clean, white polishing cloths lay next to it.

Carefully, Hermione placed her wands on the table. The pale reddish wood of the yew wand created a beautiful contrast to the darker, quirkier wood of her vine wand. She turned to her husband.

‘Well.’ Excitement bubbled inside her like fine champagne. The time for fear was over. ‘Are you going to show me your wand now or what?’

Lips thinned; black eyes glittered. He did not appreciate the way Gryffindors dealt with stressful situations. But he took out his wands as well and laid them on the table next to hers. Hermione noted with a certain amusement that her male wand was longer than his. She admired the birch wood of his female wand. It was almost white; pure and crisp.

‘They are beautiful,’ she whispered. Following an impulse, she turned around and reached up, cupping his cheek. ‘As are you.’

His hand slid around her neck in a sensual caress. He pulled her towards him, resting his lips against her forehead. ‘Foolish, foolish woman,’ he murmured his customary endearment.

She inhaled a shuddering breath. ‘Are we ready then?’

‘Yew first, I think.’

She giggled at his pun, but picked up his wand. A rush of power raced down her spine. Her nipples hardened. Severus smirked at her and reached for her wand. When he had to close his eyes for a moment in reaction to whatever feelings her wand caused him, she couldn’t suppress a smug smile. He raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment.

They linked their wand-arms and reached for the polishing cloths.

They knew the spell by heart.

‘Per vitam ad mortem,’ they chanted. ‘A morte ad vitam. Coniungo! Coniungo! In sempiternum.’

Power radiated from their wands, flowed through their linked arms. Hermione couldn’t have let go of the wand or Severus if she had wanted to. The room darkened and disappeared around them. Only the wands between their bodies and the shimmering bowl with the Sempiternal Solution remained in focus. She dabbed her cloth into the bowl. The salve felt smooth and cool through the fabric. She touched the cloth to Severus’ wand just as he reached for hers.

A brilliant flash of light burst from their wands. Golden, amber fire danced with flickering blue flames.

‘Per vitam ad mortem. A morte ad vitam. Coniungo! Coniungo! In sempiternum.’

Their voices mingled as bolts of magic shot through their hands, their arms. Severus glowed with the blue fire of his magic. Dimly, Hermione realised that the amber shine at the periphery of her vision must be the light of her own magic.

Her fingers slid up and down the length of his wand, reminding her of very similar movements in a completely different situation. And her body didn’t care.

She felt herself tighten and tense, as the power and the light pulsed through her in the rhythm of her strokes.

‘…coniungo! Coniungo!’

The magic exploded within her.

oooOooo

Gasping, she leant against Severus’ chest. His heart was thundering, and he was breathing hard, too.

‘Bloody hell,’ he cursed.

‘So that’s the magical origin of all those wand jokes,’ Hermione quipped feebly. Once the world stopped spinning around her, she’d probably appreciate the humour of these particular spell-effects even more.

‘Give me my wand,’ Severus ordered tersely.

After a bit of fumbling, they managed to exchange their wands, while still clinging weakly to each other.

‘Scourgify,’ he muttered darkly.

Her wand hummed in response, almost as if an echo of his spell chimed up inside.

‘Severus,’ she gasped. ‘I think it works. I felt that!’

‘What? Of course you did. I didn’t think you would appreciate damp knickers anymore than I would this—’ He stopped. ‘The spell? The solution? Your wand reacted to my spell?’

‘Yes! Like a tingle. Inside the wand. Like…an echo, perhaps.’

‘Interesting.’ He drew back but slid his hands down her arms to steady her. ‘Can you stand?’

Hermione shivered. She was still incredibly sensitive to his touch, even through all those layers of fabric. ‘A bit weak-kneed, still. But I think I’ll manage.

‘A silent spell, maybe?’ she suggested.

He inclined his head. His face was a mask. She had no inkling of what he was up to. Then her wand pulsed. She closed her eyes, concentrated on the feeling, trying to identify and interpret it. Then she shook her head. ‘There is something. I felt it clearly. A…pulse? Like a heartbeat, inside the wand.’ She frowned as a flash of intuition struck her. ‘Just a wild guess—something to do with hair?’

He stared at her.

‘I was right?’ she goggled at him. ‘Hair?’ She reached up. Then she threw her head back and laughed. ‘You cast a wordless disentanglement charm on my hair?’

Severus shook his head. ‘Great Merlin,’ he said softly. ‘Maybe you’re right, after all.’

Her heart thudded. This will work. He’ll come back.

She met his eyes boldly. ‘I hope I am. I know I am.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Ready for the next round?’

His gaze grew heated. Her mouth went dry.

‘Now that I know what to expect,’ he said silkily, ‘I am more than ready.’