Chapter 3

"Come, Sebastian." She gestured the panther to come closer after she adjusted the stream to a suitable temperature. The dark shadow lurking near the bathroom door came into the light. His steps were undetectable, muscle flexed with every move. Candlelight dancing up and down along the movement of his spine. His gaze focused on her, intense yet lack the threatening gleams of a predator. Various scars covered his body, broadcasting to the world that he was a warrior.

Striking, powerful, beautiful. Words jumped into her head against her own will.

Just like Professor Snape.

Now, where did that come from?

Hermione found her breath caught in her throat. Suddenly realized this was the first time she actually looked at the creature.

He was now standing in front of her, wet nose nuzzling her thigh, warm tongue tentatively licking her wrist. His eyes dark and warm, looked up at her with trust.

Hermione smiled down at him, stroking his ears and chin in greeting. The panther purred loudly, eyelids half-closed.

It was so easy to forget that Professor Snape was trapped inside him when Hermione could feel him as her familiar. His emotions were raw and animalistic. Joy when being patted or fed, worried when she was distress, vigilant when there was a threat.

Professor Dumbledore has decided to make his true identity a secret, not even Harry and Ron could be told. Thought Hermione felt bad to keep a secret from her friends, she understood the headmaster's concern. Harry still blamed Sirius's death on Professor Snape, and Ron was never a good secret-keeper.

Ron… Her hand stopped on top of the panther's head, but soon resumed its stroking when Sebastian bumped her hand impatiently.

Ron. She didn't know how to face him. All in a sudden, Ron turned from a boy she fancied into an ordinary immature schoolboy after going through the memories of Professor Snape. Really, how could one still harbor romantic feelings toward a teenager boy when one finally learned how a mature man was like? Not that she suddenly took a fancy of Professor Snape, but all her feelings toward Ronald Wesley has gone.

Gone, vanished, disappeared. She knew she once liked him very much, those memories were still there, but the feelings were nowhere to be found.

Really, she didn't know what to do. After pining for him for almost two years, it felt strange to not have the flip-flop tingle when thought about his name.

And she was supposed to meet with him and Harry at the Burrow after taking the shower…

Oh my god, the shower!

She turned toward the bathtub, lightly tagging Sebastian's ear to urge him into it. The panther cautiously stepped closer to the running stream, nose twisted, one black paw extended to play with the water, and then tentatively slipped out his tongue to lick the liquid.

It was such a feline thing to do, Hermione could not help but chuckled. "Shhsh, here, go into the tub so I can wash you clean."

Unlike Crookshanks who always put up a fight when forced to shower, the panther actually appeared rather enjoying the experience.

Thank you, Crookshanks. She thought bemused while carefully messaged the smell-less pet-shampoo into Sebastian's furs. For training me into a professional pet-cleaner.

The panther purred happily for the attentions from his Mistress, eyelids closed, tail flicked slowly under the water.

Hermione cleaned the panther gently and thoroughly, trying hard to avoid the scars. Her hand stopped when she saw the deep scar on the ankle of his left foreleg, a memory jumped out of the hidden corner into her conscious.

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A dark shadow billowed through the dark hall of Hogwarts of Witchcraft and Wizardry, blocking the moonlight shining to the ground from time to time. It came to stop at the gargoyle on the third floor, dark hood flopped down to reveal the pale face of none other than the young Potion Master of the school.

"Sweety sweats." Severus Snape murmured the password with disdain, hurried up the stairs once the Gargoyle moved away.

"Headmaster." He rushed into the office, face pale and panting.

"Severus, any news from your master?" Dumbledore looked up at him from his desk, "I heard there was an attack toward muggles."

"Yes, we…" The spy stopped beside the door, still breathing heavily but still managed to provide a brief review of the event. The Dark Lord was in the mood of scaring muggles so the Death Eaters attacked a small village near London tonight. "The next attack will be next Wednesday at Yorkshire."

"Good." Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully and turned his attention back toward the task in hand. When he realized Severus was still there, he asked coolly, "Is there anything else you need to mention?"

The young Potion Master shifting between his foots, face pale and unsettled. "I killed a muggle, Dumbledore. I tortured her to death." He said quietly, almost desperately to confess his crime.

The headmaster looked at him with surprised, something shifting behind his gaze. "Surely it was not the first time…"

"You think I am a killer?" Snape gave out a bitter laugh, "A killer? That is what you think of me?" He laughed so hard that when he finally stopped, his voice was hoarse and he was out of breath.

Dumbledore looked at him with slightly wide eyes, even the portraits turned their attentions to the young wizard.

"Why do you think I am not in the inner circle of the Dark Lord?" Venom dripping from his sentence, his smiled mockingly, "'The Potion freak who was too coward to kill' has no chance to get close to the Dark Lord. I just wanted to work as a Potion Master for him, I never meant to join their brutal activities."

He gave a long sigh, suddenly looked old and tired. "But now I can't be just a Potion freak, can I? I need to get into the inner circle to get information for your precious order." He looked at the startled headmaster and laughed again. "Forgive me, sir." He bowed with fake humble and then left the office in a blur of black robes.

Instead of going back to his chamber, Severus went to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was not in the room when he got in. The young wizard went and lay down on one of the bed, right hand holding up his wand and pointed it toward his left wrist. "Tell me, Fate." He murmured, face blank, voice lifeless, "Should I die or should I live with the sins."

He sliced open his flesh and waited, in the darkness and coldness of the ancient castle, for Fate to show her hands.

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Hermione could not help but hugged the panther, ignored how the water ruined her robes. Sebastian opened his eyes and groomed the top of her head, dark eyes observed her quizzically.

The young witch let go of her familiar after calming down a bit, thought the loneliness and self-loathing brought by the memory were still fresh needles in her heart. She resumed her task of washing the panther.

"I dreamt about your memories, Professor Snape." The need to talk was overwhelming, Hermione could not help but babbled. It was so easy to talk to Sebastian the panther while she would never have the courage to talk to Professor Snape like this. "In those two days I saw memory after memory of yours, sir. I know about your childhood, your school-life. I know about Lily and the Marauder. I saw how you joined the Death Eaters and why you became the spy for the order."

She gently washed the foam off Sebastian, her quiet listener. "I never meant to invade your privacy, Professor Snape. I think it is caused by the bond we have."

"I know you will hate me to think that, sir. But I feel sad that you need to fight alone for so long. I hope…." She paused, contemplating her words, accio the towel and started to dry the panther manually. "I hope you won't need to do it anymore."

She looked into the dark eyes of the dried and contented panther, wished to catch a gleam of Professor Snape in their depth. But all she got was a low purr and loving licking on the face.

She chuckled and led the panther out of the bathroom.

I would be there with you, Professor Snape, now I know, I would not let you suffer alone. She promised silently to herself.


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