The Gift of A Single Moment
By: Frost Leonhart
Disclaimers: All rights belong to J.K. Rowling. I simply use her world for my crazy brain to come up with moments of brilliance.
Please review - as this helps my writing greatly.
This was not a part of her life that she had ever wanted made public. It was her little dark secret and that's exactly how she liked it, thank you very much… Although, considering who she was with, her secret was safe – wasn't it? Afterall, he was a master of secrets.
She turned and glanced into obsidian eyes wondering if she could trust him…
It had started out as a simple favor to help her mother write her dissertation in psychology the summer between her fourth and fifth year. Why her mother had chosen that topic as beyond her. BDSM. Bondage. Dominance and submission. Master and slave. Sadism and masochism. After getting over the initial embarrassment of the subject, Hermione began finding her mother's research interesting. How could a person submit so willingly to another human? Have no desire for free will? Put their life in another's hands? To have unconditional trust to not be lost in the bloodlust and accidentally die? Her mother wanted to prove that it explained the primitive nature and desires of humans and its relationship with society and how they intertwined. It hadn't been until her mother had questioned her if BDSM existed somewhere in her magical world, that Hermione realized that the magical world was rather straight laced when it came to sexual matters… The revelation fueled her to investigate the matter.
~ .o.O.o. ~
This was one of those time were her Time-Turner's hidden gift came to good use. During her third year she had loaded herself up with so many classes that she ended up living the same day three times. As a result, when she had entered the castle as a third year student she had been three weeks shy of turning fourteen; and when she had entered the castle the next year as a fourth year student, she had just turned seventeen. So now she was of age to step into any nightclub or bar and not be thrown out for being too young. With a few advance spells and some covert trips to Knockturn Alley, Hermione found herself in possession, from a prostitute, might she add, of some sparkling black powder – a special type of Floo powder that did not require the traveler to state a destination because it only went to one place – an underground club called Primal Sin.
Upon her first arrival, she stepped out of the fireplace onto highly polished black marble. It was a sitting room styled with gothic undertones. On a table near the only door, she found the clubs rules. It was here that you left all titles that defined you in the real world behind. With a quick scan of them, she quickly changed her outfit into something fit for a dominant. It was always safer to dress as a dominant – then she was the hunter, not the prey. She exited the room, shutting the door behind her and stepped into a dark hallway. At its end was a receiving room, again in gothic tones, but in a mix of red, orange and soft yellow lighting that reminded her of being inside a fire. At the reception desk, a man with lilac colored eyes and long light brown hair greeted her.
"You've never been here."
"True," she answered with a haughtiness that would be worthy of a Malfoy. Her eyes took in the black leather collar around his throat, the edges glowed like embers – he was a masochistic submissive.
"Welcome to Primal Sin, I am Ajax, Master and Slave, proprietor of this paradise…" Nope. She had gotten it wrong. He was a Switch - both a dominant and a submissive. "Go through the left hall and you will be led to the Club room; go to the right hall and you will find rooms… Once a room is in use, it will not open until the session has ended."
"Thank you Master-Slave Ajax. You may call me Mistress Quill, and I have come to your club to strike a business proposition with you."
"…I'm listening."
~ .o.O.o. ~
That was how she struck up a business deal with Ajax.
It took a few weeks to build enough trust with Primal Sin's many patrons before she was granted an interview with Mistress Ivory and her pet, Asher. It was not their permanent lifestyle; just an aspect to spice up their normal life. Mistress Quill discovered that these two were more of exhibitionists than true master and slave, but it worked to her advantage…especially when during their session, she witnessed the slip of magic and Asher's dark hair changed to a long platinum blonde… Oh this was too priceless – she had stumbled upon Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy.
~ .o.O.o. ~
She interviewed willing dominants and submissive about their desires and how they came to choose this lifestyle to compensate for the disappointments in the real world. She was allowed to cast a spell to allow her access to the surface of their minds as they were in the throes of passion. Most were overly helpful, thankful that they finally had a public voice. But there was one patron, a dominant named the Dark Knight, who was elusive no matter how hard she tried to meet him. For weeks she left him letters asking, begging for a meeting – there was never a response.
School started again. She wrote her novel from her extensive research notes and scraps of stories she had devised with the help of her interviewees, in the quiet refuge of the library's Restricted Section. Only once had she been careless in leaving a page upturned; of course it had been when her moody, judgmental Potions professor walked past her on his way to a particularly gruesome book. His eyebrow quirked up, taking in one of the designs she had drawn up for the cover of her book. With a blush, she shuffled some parchment on top of it and hid it from view, all the while hoping he would not swoop down on her and demand the page from her.
On a snowy day during the Yuletide holidays, she finished the final page of her book; but even so, she felt that the book was incomplete without the interview with the Dark Knight. Regardless, she forced herself to hand over the manuscript to her publisher, and waited anxiously for the opinion of the magical world.
~ .o.O.o. ~
Six months after the book was published, Sirius fell into the Veil and they were all sent home for the summer holidays - the Ministry finally acknowledging the return of Voldemort. After an increasingly tense summer, Hermione found herself being escorted by Hagrid and the Weasleys in Diagon Alley to buy a few school supplies. She was saddened to see many of the shops boarded up. Chasing away the grief of looming war, she quickly made her purchases, trying to enjoy the smell of her new spell books. They noticed Draco and his mother enter Madam Malkin's as they walked to the twins' recently opened shop: Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.
The twins' joke shop was…interesting to say the least… Hermione's eye caught on a book in a small corner of the shop. It had a black cover with the faint grey outline of a tied body and a black triskelion outlined in white. Two Sides of the Galleon: An Introductory Guide to BDSM in the Magical World. Oh Merlin – that was her book. It had been published over the Easter holiday; but she hadn't been really able to pay attention to it due to the Department of Mysteries fiasco. She blushed when she saw a few seventh-year girls from Ravenclaw crowd around one of the books, giggling and blushing.
"I tell you what, that book sells like a hot cake," one of the twins said, popping out of nowhere, Fred.
"Oh?" she managed out in an indifferent tone, "What's it about?"
"It's a beginner's guide to kinky stuff – trying people up and stuff… Wouldn't mind giving some of the things in there a go!" Fred teased with a laugh.
"You would put your tongue to a frozen pole, so that doesn't really shock me," Hermione said. Fred's eyes gleamed and he leaned down to her.
"I know you wrote that book, 'Mione," he whispered in her ear.
"What potion fumes have you now been inhaling during your research, Fred?" A blush fighting to appear on her cheeks. He laughed again, straighten up and ruffled her hair.
"Don't worry, little one! Your little secret is safe with me."
She stomped away and over to Ginny who was inspecting some harmless love potion.
Things were going alright until they had noticed Draco standing in front of the joke shop without his mother and acting rather suspicious. Harry insisted on following him, and so she found herself trailing the Ferret into Knockturn Alley under the Invisibility Cloak. After a strange, but uneventful, time, they made their way back to Diagon Alley…and that was when it happened.
Death Eaters appeared and began attacking. Somehow, they had been tipped off that Harry was in Diagon Alley. Hermione and Ron forced Harry back into the twins' shop. She threw a handful of Floo powder into the fire before anyone knew what was going on. With his arms around Harry, Ron flung the both of them into the emerald flames and they disappeared.
Hermione grabbed another handful of Floo powder and was about to follow when the front door burst open. She ducked behind a display and watched the emerald flames fade back to the normal orange color.
"The Floo!" someone screeched, "Monitor the Floo, you fools!" It was a familiar screech – Hermione would never forget the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Bombarda Maxima!" Hermione shouted, exploding the fireplace into millions of fragments and taking cover behind one of the stock shelves. A large piece of the grate landed near her feet. She quickly shrunk it down and stuffed it into her pocket. Even if they repaired the fireplace, a piece would still be missing, thus making Floo travel impossible.
"Fix that damn fireplace! And find out who blew it up!" the insane woman ordered. "And then trace the last departure!" She stalked like a caged animal up and down the aisles. Throwing hexes and curses at the captive innocents. It wasn't until Hermione accidently sneezed that she was found. Bellatrix's black eyes landed on her. A look of recognition passed between them.
"Get the Mudblood!" she screeched, recognizing Potter's friend and throwing a hex at the terrified girl.
Hermione quickly vaulted over the shelf; spells almost hitting her. Her eyes landed on the window across the room. If they couldn't catch her, they couldn't repair the fireplace and track down Harry, or use her as bait, or kill her. She threw up a shield and ran to the window. As she went through the glass, she managed to throw a Stunning spell towards the Death Eaters. Broken glass cut into her and for a dizzying moment she thought she was going to blackout, but then her vision returned and she quickly picked herself up. Running as far away as she could with every ounce of speed and strength she possessed.
Chaos surrounded her on the streets. She wove and fought through the panicked crowd, Death Eaters charging after her. Where would she go? She needed a plan. As she rounded the corner into Knockturn Alley, pale fingers wrapped around her wrist and a hand pressed to her mouth to silence her screams as she was pulled into darkness.
~ .o.O.o. ~
Her foot connected with the instep of the dark figure, a male, holding her. She thrashed and bucked against him. She heard a grunt as her elbow connected with his stomach. Her nails were useless against the long sleeves, but she futilely clawed his forearms.
"Miss Granger, kindly stop thrashing about like a mentally challenged orangutan unless you want to be discovered," a silky voice whispered in her ear. She knew that voice and froze. Instantly she was turned loose. Her eyes easily adjusted to the dimly lit place. She noticed it to be a closed apothecary; one holding dangerous borderline illegal items. And next to her, peering through a crack in the door was the dark figure of the Potion professor of Hogwarts.
They could hear Bellatrix screeching orders for a search. Death Eaters blocked off all exits out of Knockturn Alley and began searching each establishment.
"Merlin's balls, what did you do to get on dear Bella's list, you stupid girl?" his voice snapped quietly. Hermione looked down at her bleeding hands and arms. Tears stung her eyes not from the pain in her thigh or her hands, but his venomous tone. He had always had that effect on her. Still, she knew that what she had done was right.
"The Death Eaters spotted Harry on our way back to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and so when we got there, I activated the Floo and Ron threw Harry and himself into it. I was going to follow but by that time, the Death Eaters were at the door and had seen Harry go through it. So I blew up the fireplace and took a piece of the grate with me so they can't trace Harry in the Floo Network. And then Bellatrix spotted me and I ran."
The professor slowly blinked his obsidian eyes at her with a calculating look. She had blown up the fireplace? He had to hand it to the chit, it was a clever move, even if it was stupid, for she was now the ultimate target.
He pointed his wand at her bloodied hands and instantly they healed. A cooling sensation took away a majority of the pain.
"Thank you, sir." A sound drew him back to watching the search outside through the crack in the door.
"Granger, get in the back room now… they are going to descend on this place in a moment," he muttered, pushing her into the direction of the back room as silently as possible.
He shut the door and warded it, knowing that with it, he sealed his own doom. After all his careful planning and calculated moves, after twenty years as a successful spy, this wisp of a girl was going to bring his traitorous ways to light. Oh Bellatrix was going to die of happiness. He must have truly pissed off the fates in a different life.
~ .o.O.o. ~
They heard the front door of the apothecary burst open. Snape's mind whirled on how he could turn the outcome in his favor. Next to him, Hermione forced herself to think…think quickly… Her eyes landed on the glowing embers in the fireplace, and it came to her.
Patting down her coat, she frantically tried to find that small pouch she had hidden in a pocket, before remembering that she had tucked it in the inner breast pocket. She quickly unzipped her coat and pulled out the small black leather pouch.
"Come here Professor," she whispered, grabbing a fold of his robes and pulling him before the fire.
"What are you doing? Are you daft? They will be monitoring the Floo by now."
"They can't monitor this." She took a pinch out of the black leather pouch and threw it into the embers. They roared to life in purplish black flames and she quickly stepped into them, her hold on the surly Potion's Master just as strong as his had been earlier.
~ .o.O.o. ~
Hermione had never traveled the Floo Network with another person and so as they shot out of the fire, the two rolled on the black marble ground, a tangled mess of limbs and material.
"Granger, what asinine idea have you come up with now?" Snape growled as she silently managed to extricate herself from him and stood up. His anger at her was about to boil over. Where the bloody hell did this wisp of a girl get her hands on that black powder? Did she even know where she had taken them?
With the tap of her wand, her clothing changed. Her hunter green pea coat, cream colored jumper, and jeans shimmered away. What replaced it stilled his venomous tongue; in fact she almost gave him a heart attack. She wore a black pleated skirt so short that is was barely a fringes length from covering her sex. Her long legs were encased by black fishnet and laced heels that tied at her ankles with a thick ribbon. A corseted leather vest pushed her cleavage up to its true potential and gave a sumptuous view, as the ties in the back cinched tightly to draw attention to her tiny waist. A black choker wrapped around her slender throat, and from it a feather dangled. With another twirl of her wand, drastic yet tasteful makeup appeared on her face. She ripped the bands out of her hair and quickly shook it out to let it appear bed-tangled. With a final twirl, a mask appeared on her face, gold with a motif of feathers, hiding her identity. Changing her from Hermione Jean Granger, Gryffindor Princess to Mistress Quill, dominant and voice of the sexual underworld.
He stared at the chit stupidly. How had he missed that? More importantly, how had he missed that this girl had grown into a beautiful, sensual woman? Alright – no he hadn't missed that fact, he had just chosen to ignore it for the past year and a half.
There was a jingling of bells – the sound indicating that someone else was trying to Floo into the place.
"Professor, we have to hurry," she whispered and then sent a quick pray to the faeries that he wouldn't kill her for what she was about to do. She pointed her wand at him and his usual priestly attire morphed into a pair of leather pants and a black button down shirt with his sleeves rolled up to reveal his pale, muscular forearms. A strip of leather wrapped around his left wrist to hide his Mark. His hair was pulled back and tied at the nape of his neck with a black ribbon. A simple black mask hide his identity. At least she had left him with his dragonhide boots.
She pulled him into the dark hall and closed the door behind them as the fire flared to life.
And so now here she stood, in the dark hallway leading to the receiving room of Primal Sin, looking into his black obsidian eyes and wondered how well he would follow her impromptu plan, and would he keep her secret.
"Top or bottom, Professor?" she whispered.
"Pardon?"
"Choose what you will be, Professor – a top, a dominant; or a bottom, a submissive. Until you choose, I cannot play my role effectively. And I suggest you choose quickly, for the proprietor has just spotted us."
"Mistress Quill!" Ajax happily acknowledged.
"Hello Master-Slave Ajax," she called out as she sauntered up to the reception desk. She could see out of the corner of her eye, the Professor silently move next to her, but gave no indication of his choice. Fine if he wouldn't choose, then she would for him. She prayed to the higher powers above that he would play along. Ajax's lilac colored eyes flickered over to take in the person next to her. They widened in shock.
"I see that you have finally managed to gain the Holy Grail of audiences, Mistress Quill…" She noticed the way Ajax's posture turned instantly from a powerful dominant to a helpless submissive. She knew that the owner only did that for a select few.
"Dark Knight," the man purred in contentment.
"Ajax," the Potion Masters' baritone voice acknowledged curtly.
'You? You are the bastard of a dominant that would never respond? …Why am I even surprised? I should have known that this lifestyle might appeal to you.' Hermione thought to herself.
"I thought you did not want anything to do with Mistress Quill, Dark Knight?"
"It seems that Mistress Quill has offered me something, in return for my cooperation, that has intrigued me enough to grant her an audience."
"Oh? What could she possibly have to offer you?" Jealousy rolling off the Switch.
The Dark Knight brought his smoldering eyes to her…waiting for her to respond. Her pink lips formed into a tantalizing smile. She named her price,
"I offered him a chance to be the only one to ever dominate me…and in return he will give me answers to questions for my next book."
"You are starting another book, Mistress?"
"Yes. This one will be a novel though. One of addictions and mystery." She weaved the idea in front of Ajax like a toy. "In fact I have a character that I need your insight on, Ajax."
The jealous emotion disappeared into flattery. "You have a character developed after me? Of course, however I might be of assistance to you."
"Then I shall come calling near the Yuletide season."
The door of the room they had come from opened and light filtered into the dark hallway. Her heart sped wondering if by some chance that the Death Eaters had managed to trace them.
"Ajax!" a screeching voice called out from the receiving room. One all three knew all too well, but for many different reasons. The door slammed and then high heels rapped smartly on the marble floor of the hallway. A woman wearing a tight, long black dress stormed into the receiving room. Her wild hair sticking out in many directions as if she had pulled at it in frustration.
"Mistress Raven." Ajax acknowledged.
"Give me my room!" she demanded. Her dark eyes gleamed with promises of pain. Ajax's eyes glazed over and he had to stop himself from moaning in pleasure.
"Things not going well, Raven?" a haughty voice asked almost tauntingly. At the end of the counter, Raven saw a dark figure leaning against it.
'What are you doing?' Mistress Quill felt the blood run out of her face. 'You are going to get us killed!' She wanted to hit the Dark Knight over the head, or run away…yeah running sounded fan-bloody-tastic right now.
"Dark Knight," Mistress Raven hissed, "I see you find it more important to satisfy yourself than do your duties.
"Pot. Kettle."
"Cauldron."
"Reprimanding me for my lack of duties when you, yourself are here."
"…" Raven's eyes narrowed dangerously.
'Go ahead, please continue to poke the dragon in the eye… We are so going to die…'
"I won't tell if you won't tell.
"Deal."
"…What have you got there?" Raven motioned to the girl next to him whose back was turned.
"She is my pet for the night, Raven. Besides, I believe you've already played with this one." He turned Mistress Quill around to face Mistress Raven.
Raven's dark eyes cleared for a moment, "Mistress Quill, I did not know you were still active, you have been missed for some months now."
Mistress Quill managed out in a steady voice, "The Dark Knight demanded a meeting. I figured this would be my only shot for an interview."
"Yes – our dear Dark Knight seems to be unable to ever play fairly."
"Mistress Raven, your rooms are ready." Ajax said as a door opened in the right hall, eagerness clear in his voice.
"How I play is not of your concern, Raven."
"Ajax, is there a room that the Dark Knight and I might use? …Without interruptions?" Mistress Quill asked.
"Of course; his private rooms." And with a flick of his wrist, a door shimmered into existence.
"After you, Mistress Quill," the Dark Knight politely motioned.
With a hasty goodbye to both Mistress Raven and Ajax, Mistress Quill sauntered to the open door, her short pleated skirt sashaying and kicking up in the back to revel black lace cheekies.
The Dark Knight found himself stunned that the know-it-all chit would ever wear something so… so pleasing…or have such a sensual walk. For a moment, he found himself wanting to do nothing more than grabbing her curly hair and bending her over the nearest piece of furniture.
Merlin, this girl was truly going to be the death of him.
~ .o.O.o. ~
Mistress Quill shut the door behind him, leaned upon said door and sigh in relief. His dark eyes never leaving her.
'Bellatrix – no, Mistress Raven – is in the building; this is going from bad to worse.' she thought before something wrapped around her wrist and jerked her away from the door.
"Start talking, Granger," the Dark Knight demanded, his grip tightening on her wrist.
"Assaulting a student, tsk, tsk, Professor," she bravely challenged.
"When you enter Ajax's domain, all labels are stripped from you. Here you are not a student, nor am I a professor."
"I've read the rules of this domain. And you, yourself, initiated the breaking of those rules. You seemed to have forgotten the clause: Except, when one of the parties acknowledges said titles, then and only then can real world barriers be brought into play."
"I didn't acknowledge any title."
"You did. You used my surname. Hermione Jean Granger is a biologically eighteen years-old student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, entering her sixth year. There is a reason we choose different names in this domain – to sidestep all barriers."
Damn it all, the little chit was right. Snape forced himself to bite back his annoyance.
"Alright then; I retract my previous demand and follow with this: Start talking, Mistress Quill."
"I already told you what happened."
"No, not that… this!" he hissed, waving his hand at her appearance.
"I'm of age. I have signed the contracts of this domain. I do not have to explain myself to you." She turned back to press her ear to the door, listening for any sign of a violent Bellatrix.
Powerful hands slammed against the door on either side of her head. She jerked back, only to bump into his chest. His hot breath tickled her ear.
"If I am to be your dominant, as you so offered, Mistress Quill," his silky voice growled, "you do have to explain yourself to me."
His fingers tangled into her curls and he lifted her hair up to reveal the back of her slender neck. He placed a single kiss on it. She shivered.
"And while the offer of dominating you is a tempting one, I reject your offer," he murmured against her skin.
She turned around and looked into obsidian eyes.
"I counter with my own offer," He leaned into her. His lips hovered above hers. "I want you as an equal; what say you, Mistress Quill?"
"I agree to your terms," she whispered. Instantly he captured her lips with his own.
~ .o.O.o. ~
His heartbeat was still pounding in his ears, his breath still ragged as he came down off the high of sex; so he did not hear all the words she whispered as they basked in the afterglow.
"Dabo ad te voluntarie…per sanguis virginis…"
She reached down between her legs and brushed her fingers against her sex. They came away with fresh blood. Quickly she smeared her lips with the crimson life and then placed her bloodied hand to his heart.
"Ad tutelam amorem ab mortem…in aeternum… Solum mortem naturalem potest esse vestra terrenum corpus…" With her other hand, she guided his lips to hers and kissed him; her fingers tangled in a lock of his hair, her thumb stroking his cheekbone. Need filled him again and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing her close to his body. He lost himself in her passion, tasting sweet honey in her mouth. It poured into him, soothing his tormented soul like a balm of peppermint, chamomile and dittany on a burn. As he buried himself into her again, he did not notice how shimmering gold coated him like a second skin before absorbing into his body and turning back to his natural pale hue.
As they broke from the kiss, he saw her sweet smile and knew that would be something he would always remember, something he would carry with him to his death when it came.
~ .o.O.o. ~
An hour later, they apparated just an inch outside of the Burrow's property. Their clothes back to normal; her in her cream jumper and jeans and him in his priestly attire. All of the barriers that separated them back in place. Professor and student. Death Eater-turned-spy and future Order of the Phoenix member. King Snake of Slytherin and Golden Gryffindor Princess.
She could feel the humming of the protective charms the Order had placed around the Burrow's extensive grounds. Hermione noticed how her Potions professor stepped away from her, putting space between them. She was about to ask him something when they heard shouting. Snape had stepped onto the Burrow's property, through the wards, and so its inhabitant knew they were there. Her eyes saw Harry tear out of the house with Ron and Ginny closely behind. The rest of the Weasleys and some Order members followed at a less frantic pace.
"It seems that Boy Wonder missed you." She heard a low grumble before she was attacked into a group hug.
"I'm fine," she reassured them repeatedly. Harry was clearly distraught that she had been left behind to fend for herself. He apologized continuously, begging her forgiveness. She smiled, patting his cheek as one would do to a child. Molly and Arthur profusely thanked Snape for rescuing Hermione and somehow he had been guilted into staying for dinner. All the while, Lupin quietly watched the pair, his nose twitching as he smell something metallic, his face showing that his mind was trying to piece together some complex and incomplete puzzle.
~ .o.O.o. ~
When everyone finally settled down, and dinner had finished, Snape watched as Order members went off to their corners in the house. Hermione managed to slink off to her favorite armchair and cracked open a book. Harry and Ron sat on the floor near her feet playing a game of chess. Snape tried to pay attention to Mad-Eye's ranting about Potter's protection at Hogwarts this coming year. He fiddled with the tumbler of firewhiskey in his hand. 'Damn pointless conversation… Potter is going to bark up trouble like he does every year. The only question is what trouble will he get into…' The acerbic man thought to himself before locking eyes with the werewolf. Remus' brown eyes searched for answers. Snape glared at him until he looked away. His eyes travelled back to the Golden Trio and noticed that Hermione had glanced over the top of her book and stared into his eyes with a meaningful look. With a nonverbal casting of Legilimens, he was in the surface of her mind.
Stay safe.
There was no mental gushing of emotions professing undying love or sonnets of passion that could make your teeth rot. Just a simple wish from one ally to another in this dratted war. He gave the subtlest of nods and stood. His job was complete. He didn't even know what had possessed him to stay so late. With a short thanks to Molly for dinner, he disapparated to his home to spend another night in solitude. But this did not bother him, like it normally did, for the memories of her would keep him company now – of her body molded to his; of her feather-light touches on his arms; of her nails lightly digging into his back; of her willing virginal surrender to him.
Almost two years later, Severus Snape was attacked by the Dark Lord's familiar. As he took his last breath, his gaze flickered from the bright green eyes of the Boy-Who-Lived to whiskey colored eyes. Their stolen moment in Primal Sin seemed so long ago but it was a moment that had kept him sane this last year more than ever. His fingers clutched to a small scrap inside his robes. Tears threatened to spill out of those beautiful eyes and then darkness took over.
~ .o.O.o. ~
Ron and Harry had forcibly dragged Hermione out of the Shrieking Shack, her wailing the whole way that she didn't understand. That she had casted the spell correctly. Or at least she thought she had… Her screaming and raving was cut short by the voice of Voldemort calling for an hour-long ceasefire. Her heart hardened and she charged into battle.
~ .o.O.o. ~
He smelled roses and strawberries. Two scents that he had always associated with the fiery know-it-all. Was this what death smelled like? If so, he enjoyed it. He tasted blood in his mouth and the twinges of pain began to build in his chest, his throat, his shoulder. He frowned, death did not include pain.
Eyes cracking open, he found himself in the Shrieking Shack. He wanted to scream, was it really too much to let him die? After all he had done? His eyes swept across the room – he was alone… alone and – his eyes flitted down his broken body – a body that was encased in a golden shimmer. It clung to him like a second skin, dancing happily across the surface. With weak, shaking hands, he fumbled within the pockets of his robes before procuring a few small bottles. Thank the gods above for his paranoia. He drank a pain potion, followed by a blood-replenishing potion and then the antivenin developed shortly after Weasley Sr. had been attacked by that damn viper. His mind whirled, trying to piece together his next move.
He needed a Healer. Gathering what strength he had left, he shuffled down the tunnel passage, trailing blood behind him. If he made it to the castle, someone might be able to cast the counter to Sectumsempra. The blood-replenishing potion was going to only help him for less than an hour. At the entrance to the tunnel, he found that dawn had come… dawn had come and the battle was over – but who had won?
~ .o.O.o. ~
As the sun broke over the castle and illuminated the lawn, he noticed a mass of curly hair racing out from the castle. Her clothes ripped and burnt; dirt and blood staining everywhere. His breath caught as the sun illuminated the gold in her curly hair; her whiskey colored eyes smoldering; a pink tint on her cheeks.
When she reached him, she wrapped her arms around him like a lover to her returning warrior. He felt her soothing presence wash over him and for the first time in twenty years, he felt a peace in his soul that he never thought he would ever achieve. Odd in the sense that they had never laid a claim to one another. Her lips came to kiss his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his eyes, his forehead, his lips again; all the while muttering about miracles.
Her eyes took in his shredded body and she withdrew her wand,
"Vulnera Sanentur." The healing spell countered the Sectumsempra easily and stopped the blood flow, clotting the wound. She quickly opened his shirt, against his silent protests and with another casting of it, the wound began to close. Instantly he could breathe a little easier. She moved to his throat, casting the healing spell twice.
"The wounds are deep… you may scar, Professor," she murmured. He rolled his eyes, telling her he could care less about the scars. They would simply be an addition to the collection. "I've simply put a band-aid over the bullet hole." He frowned at the unfamiliar reference. "Your vocal cords are healed but raw. They could easily rip open. Until you see a proper mediwitch, I'd try not to talk, sir." Her eyes traveled across the pale expanse of his chest, remembering how she had trailed kisses along it. They both noticed the faint dark golden outline of a handprint over his heart. Hesitantly, she reached out and placed her hand to the print – a perfect match. The golden shimmer absorbed back into his skin, yet the handprint remained.
And then he knew – he was alive because of her – because of a single moment in time where there had been no barriers, just two people following primal desires. He remembered kissing her blood coated lips. Her bloodied hand coming to rest on his chest. Her almost inaudible murmurs of Latin against his lips. She had invoked old blood magic, using her virgin blood to protect him from death. But what could he have possibly done to be honored with such a gift?
With a damaged throat, he was only able to manage a single word in a raspy whisper, "Why?"
"Why do you think, Professor?"
He frowned. A blush appeared on her cheeks and she avoided his gaze… Oh no, it couldn't be…surely not…
He pointed to himself. "…No good…for you."
"I don't care…"
He lifted her chin up and forced her to look at him. "…No…good," he repeated stubbornly, pointing to himself, frustrated at his inability to use proper sentences.
"If you weren't a good person, you would not have continuously saved Harry, or Ron, or me, or even Draco. If you weren't a good person you would have let the Death Eaters get me in Diagon Alley two years ago…" she prattled, listing many more accomplishments and deeds than he'd care to admit. "…I don't care that you are still in love with Harry's mother. I don't care that you were an utter bastard to me for seven long years. I love you, Severus Tobias Snape. I've loved you since the moment you saved me, in my third year… And I know that I had your love in return for a single moment in time…and that is enough for me."
"...Wrong."
"I am not wrong! Don't you dare treat me like a child and call it a passing fancy!"
"…Wrong…" he repeated again. If only he could speak. He would say a great many things to her. Most of them unkind – and perhaps that was why the fates had rendered him borderline mute.
"Stop saying that!"
"…Wrong…" He ran a hand through his hair. Frustrated beyond all belief that he could barely speak. He forced his vocal cords to work, "…Love...more than…a moment."
"What?"
"…Love...you…many…moments."
"But you madly love Harry's mother… "
"…Let go… Lily in peace…" He pointed to himself, "Now free… Move forward…" Then pointed to her. "…Future…" And he drew out the small scrap in his robes. A small black ribbon. The one she had conjured so long ago to pull his hair from his face.
She gasped. Tears filled her eyes. He wiped one away with the pad of a calloused thumb.
"…Slow… Want proper…"
She smiled at his gentlemanly customs. "Yes we'll take it slow… First, you've got to get in better health, that way you can go back to being your usual snarky self, and I've got to come back to complete my schooling. Are you planning of returning to teach? And of course Hogwarts if going to have to be rebuilt, but – " He cut off her babbling with a few fingers to her lips. His obsidian eyes gazed into her whiskey ones lovingly.
In the sparkling morning sun, time stood still for two people as they kissed, finally reunited across all worldly barriers.
~ Finite Incantatem ~