Chapter 1 Visitations in the Night
Hermione looked up at the sky. It was night finally. The moon was full and the stars were shimmering in the heavens. The wind blew the scent of night blooming jasmine towards her, rustling the leaves of the plants and trees in the garden. Sounds of nocturnal animals and insects busy at work filled the garden, and the croak of crickets completed the picture.
The garden was beautiful, especially during the day, but Hermione preferred it at night.
At night when no one bothers me she mused silently as she moved towards the weeping willow tree at the bottom of her garden. At the foot of the willow was a nice little pond, currently home to fish and frogs. She sat, leaning against the tree, ankles and legs dangling in the water as she stared into the murky water.
It didn't bother her much to be alone. Ron and Harry made sure she didn't spend her time in total seclusion, but they were both married now, and Harry had a child. A daughter he and Ginny had said she was auntie to, seeing as Harry had no siblings. She had cried when they had told her that, but as time passed, she revelled in being Aila's aunt.
Aila she mused again as she stirred slightly. The four-year-old had done what her name suggested and brought some light into Hermione's life, but the majority of days were still dark. She had gone home at the end of her sixth year, after Professor Dumbledore's funeral, to find the Dark Mark above her house. Professor Lupin and Auror Moody had brought her back to Twelve Grimmauld Place for the summer, until Harry and Ron had come to find her so that they could track down the Dark Lord and kill him once and for all.
Harry was furious after Voldemort's demise – Snape hadn't been there. He'd promised that their old Potions Professor would pay for killing Harry's father-figures. Okay, so Snape hadn't exactly caused Sirius' death, but to Harry, and Ron - Gods, even herself! - it seemed that he'd as good as killed him. He hadn't brought help fast enough, and so Sirius had died. Then, in their fateful sixth year, Snape had killed Headmaster Dumbledore, and Harry had vowed vengeance.
Hermione sighed and settled back against the tree, her eyes closing. The wind rustled, speaking to her gently.
Hang on a minute... Speaking?
She cautiously opened an eye and glanced around, trying to maintain the semblance of slumber. The back garden was empty. She rose silently to her feet and crept quietly to the gate separating the front of the house from the back.
I was sure I closed that...
She moved slowly, wand ready, keeping within the shadows.
That was when she saw him.
A flash of moonlight breaking out from behind the clouds illuminated her for a moment; he thought she looked like some sort of Valkyrie in her black lace nightgown, wild hair hanging loosely around her shoulders and her wand held as if it were a dagger. She looked ready to kill. And, he realised, he was the one on the receiving end of that rage.
Hermione snarled monstrously as she pointed her wand at him.
"Do not move, Professor!" she hissed icily as she stepped out of the shadows. She glanced at his hand. "Throw the wand at my feet," she ordered.
He snorted in reply.
"I think you'll find I am faster then you at hexing - Petrificus Totalus!" she yelled, but he ducked out of the way rapidly. She fired off more hexes at him, designed to keep him immobile until she could summon an Auror, but he had anticipated this from her and didn't stay still long enough for her hexes to hit home.
After roughly ten minutes of this, Snape was hoping she would tire, but the clever young witch showed no signs of stopping.Good gods…where is he Snape thought, casting a quick glance around - but that was all she needed to hit him with an Impediment Jinx. He dropped to the floor with a curse of his own, vocally abusing the English language.
Hermione merely raised an eyebrow at his choice vocabulary and stood over him, wand pointed scant inches from his face. She heard a popping sound behind her and whirled around, thinking that perhaps he'd had back-up of the Death Eater variety, but that was her last thought before someone hit her with a Petrificus Totalus.
xxxx
Hermione shivered and pulled the blanket around her more snugly. The sensations of it against her exposed skin made her sigh. She opened a sleepy eye, wondering how she had gotten into her room, and – Snape!
She jumped to her feet, and promptly fell to the floor. Gentle hands picked her up and placed her back into the bed. She looked at the other occupant of the room – he was muttering words of comfort to her, assurances that everything was alright. He was... Snape. Hermione yelped and her hands roamed wildly for something - anything - to hit him with. She found something suitably heavy and reached for it, but he restrained her arms, pinning them to the bed as he prised the object out of her hands.
"Enough, Severus," a commanding male voice said from behind them. Hermione stiffened. The voice seemed rather familiar, but she couldn't place where she had heard it. Snape let go of her arms and propelled himself off the bed, in case she attempted another attack. He was still in pain from where he had hit his head on the floor after she had cursed him.
Hermione sat up, holding the sheet against her as she glanced around the room, still trying to place the voice. A wand landed on the bed next to her and she picked it up with one trembling hand.
"Lumos!" she whispered, her voice shaking as much as her hand. A faint light emerged from the tip of her wand, and the owner of the familiar voice stepped into the glow. Hermione's eyes widened, lips forming silent words.
No…it can't be! No
The twenty-four-year-old witch fainted in a graceless heap on the bed.
The male sighed and Severus snorted.
