AN: Set in the same universe as "Quattuor Adiuvantes Manus" and "Redemption." I make no money from these.
Hermione opened the door to the cold, sterile room where Severus lay bled to death. She walked to the morgue slab and gazed down at her deceased husband; tentatively stroking his face, she pushed his hair out of the way so she could close his eyes.
What a senseless, unnecessary waste. There was no reason for him to die.
Her hands drifted down his chest up to his shoulders, down his long arms to his slender hands. She turned his left arm over and pushed up the sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark.
"I'm so sorry it has to be like this, Severus," she sighed, "but it's the only way I know how." Hermione was risking so much by doing this. Her life was quite possibly on the line, but he was worth it. By the Gods, he was worth her life and so much more. He'd earned this, but she knew that no matter how he resented her, he would never accept the danger to her.
All the better to do it while he can't object.
She pulled from her sleeves a silver dagger. It flashed coldly as it reflected the morgue's soulless fluorescent lighting. Taking a deep breath to steady her hands, Hermione cut a deep gash in Severus's arm from his wrist nearly to his elbow, neatly bisecting his Dark Mark. Her chest ached with longing and sadness when her knife came away from the cut clean.
Closing her eyes, Hermione began chanting a wandless spell, one she had chanced upon while snooping through Severus's library one night as he lay in a deep sleep from their vigorous coupling.
The blood of my life
For the blood of yours.
The beat of my heart
Weakens as it pours.
Come back to me now
And search you for me.
The blood of my life
For eternity.
The knife flashed once more as Hermione cut her left arm in the same way she had sliced her husband's. She was startled that it didn't hurt and stopped chanting as her concentration faltered. Pain blossomed in her arm; she hissed and immediately resumed chanting. Numbing coldness chased the pain away. Hermione moved her arm to hover over Severus's sliced-open Dark Mark; her blood poured out of her wound and onto his.
The Mark made a gurgling sound when her hot blood splattered onto it. After a moment the ink began to stir, and it reached up and connected to the bleeding gash on her arm. Hermione felt a gentle suction along the wound as the ink settled into the seam, but it wasn't an unpleasant sensation. Hermione had thought her blood would simply heal his would and revive him, but it was an old book, so perhaps the author had left out a few minor details. She made herself comfortable as the Dark Mark fed on her blood.
Hermione began to feel lightheaded; she had given Severus as much blood as her arithmantic calculations dictated, and it was time to pull away. She made to get up but couldn't; the ink from the Dark Mark had imbedded itself deeply into her self-inflicted injury. Hermione tugged harder and gasped as pain radiated outward from the ink. She sat back down, fighting a growing sense of panic as the suction increased. This wasn't in the book! She had blood replenishing potion with her to take afterwards, but blood replenishers weren't fast-acting.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Nowhere in her calculations had it even hinted that he could drain her dry.
Severus experienced an agony like no other when molten misery roared up from his left arm and detonated in his chest. Searing lava poured through his veins, and he had the distinct impression that every scar on his body had caught fire. Liquid flame fell from his eyes and poured down his cheeks as he imagined himself in his rightful place in the bowels of Hell.
The dark wizard opened his eyes expecting to see brimstone and flames. Instead, his gaze landed on the visage of his pale and panicked young wife. His eyes followed her arm down, and he finally saw the source of all the punishing heat. His face fell when he recognized her words, and he struggled to move his arm away from her, to wrest her from the Dark Mark's grasp.
"Oh gods, Hermione, no! Stop, STOP!" Horror bloomed within him, bright and terrible, when he realized that the more blood she lost the better he began to feel. She has no idea what she's doing! Bloodless vampires nearly destroyed the world! Merlin, Nimue, Morgana, anyone, stop her before it's too late!
No dead historical figures were listening that day.
Hermione slumped over, no longer able to hold herself upright. She looked up at her husband as he yelled at her, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. No matter, he yells at me for everything, she thought, her mind beginning to drift. It's probably just another way I don't measure up to Saint Lily.
She summoned the last of her strength to reach up with the hand that wasn't held hostage by the Dark Mark and caress her husband's face. Hermione made sure to focus on Severus's lovely eyes, for she knew she might not ever see them again.
"I had to give you a chance, Severus," she croaked, her lungs desperately trying to power her voice. "I knew this was designed to turn you, but if enough blood was given at the beginning, you wouldn't ever have to hunt." She began to tremble. "I calculated what amount of blood it would take for the spell to resurrect you instead."
He flipped through Hermione's memories, and real honest-to-gods fear stabbed through Severus Snape's blackened soul for the first time since he entered Lily Potter's house that fateful night. He had come to love the young woman who had been foisted upon him, and even though Lily had been the deciding factor in which direction he went, it was the thought of keeping the world safe for Hermione that had driven him these last months. She had been his light at the end of the tunnel. What would he do if her light went out? How would Hermione ever know that Lily was no longer his rudder through the darkness?
He would be truly lost.
His mouth stung, pulling him from his morbid reverie. He explored with his tongue and found what he dreaded: two sets of sharp fangs, one larger than the other, had broken through his upper gums. The fangs proved him correct on one other notion: Hermione hadn't figured his Dark Mark into her equations because she thought that it would have died when Severus did.
Hermione wasn't often wrong, but she never did anything by halves, so on the rare occasions when Hermione was wrong, Hermione was spectacularly wrong. Severus's pain faded away completely as Hermione let loose one last whimper and became still. The Dark Mark pulled away and settled itself back on his arm.
"Severus, are you there? I can't see."
Shuddering arms enveloped her. "I'm here, Hermione." He paused a moment to keep his voice from cracking with emotion. "Hermione, why did you do this? Why?"
"You would have been free," she whispered, every breath a little bit shallower than the one before. "If I had lived, I would have agreed to a magical annulment since you married me under duress. If I had died, well, you get the idea." She tried to wave her hand in a dismissive gesture but could only manage a few fingers. "You deserve to be happy."
Severus's control finally slipped. "I was happy with you," he mumbled into her ear, his breath catching with emotion. "I was happy with you." He began to rock her gently.
"Oh."
"Do you have any idea what you've done to me, Hermione?"
Her voice was now only her breath. "What?"
"I'm a vampire who doesn't have to drink blood."
"That's good, isn't it?"
Severus laughed with no humor whatsoever. "I still have to feed."
Hermione spent the next few minutes slipping in and out of consciousness. Severus never stopped rocking her.
"Wh..." She licked her lips with a sandpaper tongue. "What do you eat?"
Severus turned her to face him. "The spell you cast is the one used to create bloodless vampires, Dementors." He looked over her shoulder into nothing. "The Dark Mark is all that has kept my mind intact." He held her tighter. "It was the last copy of the spell. I was supposed to destroy it, but I am loathe to burn any book." After a moment he looked into her eyes. "I eat souls, Mrs. Snape, and I am bound by the spell you cast to eat the first one I see." His eyes filled with despair. "And I see only you."
Hermione was surprised that he was so gentle when he kissed her. It didn't even hurt.
Hermione awoke in the middle of the night to another of Severus's nightmares. Which one this time? She got out of bed and walked around to his side of the mattress. Her husband's face was a visage of agony and despair. She knelt down and gently touched his forehead, gently brushing his hair behind his ear. "Oh my love. Is this one where I wake you up or leave you to it?"
She made to get up when Severus let out a wail and began to sob. Red tears ran down his cheeks; he had cried out so hard he had broken a few blood vessels in his eyes.
"Oh Nimue, the Dementor one! Accio eye drops!" A drawer on a dresser in the corner opened, and a small bottle floated up and over to Hermione's outstretched hand. She cast a quick wandless binding charm on Severus they had created to keep him from moving.
One at a time, Hermione opened Severus's eyes and placed three drops in each one. The potion healed the broken capillaries, and she held a handkerchief to his cheeks as the potion also expressed the blood from his tear ducts.
As she was wiping his face clean with a dry cloth, she realized that Severus was awake and staring at her. "Are you alright, love?" she asked, sitting back on her knees. "Did I wipe your eyes too hard again?"
He shook his head but didn't speak. She cocked her head to the side slightly, unconsciously imitating Crookshanks when he was confused. "Then what is it?"
Severus moved the covers and motioned for Hermione to lay back down next to him. She snuggled up next to his comforting warmth, and when they were both nestled under their blankets against the chill of the dungeons, Severus wrapped his arms around Hermione as tightly as he could, buried his face in her hair, and wept until he fell asleep.
AN: Please let me know your thoughts.