This has officially been the longest day in academic history. My school blocks anything interesting on the internet so I couldn't obsessively check my traffic stats (anyone else guilty of that?), or get my daily dose of Snamione fan art. I'm also looking for a Beta, so if you're interested, PM me. I'm going to get my fix of fan art now and I'll just let you read Chapter 10. Chapter 10? We're this far already?
*Disclaimer: JKR will never have to work a day in her life. I find myself in a ceaseless loop of taking out the trash and emptying the dishwasher *
Chapter 10-
"If music be the food of love, play on,
Give me excess of it; that surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die."
His voice reached to her in her sleep, twisting itself around her like a silk ribbon, enticing her senses.
"That's beautiful," Hermione stretched under the blanket, blinking her eyes until the presence of her professor came into view. He sat at the table with a pile of potions books blocking his face from her sight. Parchment rolled off of the table, curling by his feet. A flora and fauna encyclopedia hovered in front of him, occasionally turning the page on its own.
"William Shakespeare," He scratched a quill against a piece of parchment, not caring to elaborate any farther. His voice sounded clipped and agitated as he fully disappeared behind his books. 12th Night, she was familiar with that particular piece.
"Do you always recite Muggle literature to the women in your bed," She tried to joke, but her laugh shook her side too much. Stroking the tender flesh gently through the shirt, Hermione shuddered at the friction. How long would it take to heal? Hermione made a mental note to write to Bill Weasley and ask him. The Healing Salve just wasn't going to cut it.
Snape stood up abruptly, sending the chair knocking over and pieces of parchment flying into the air. A flick of his wand sent everything scattering into his bag, which he flung zealously onto his back. He had stormed out before she had the time for the realization to dawn on her, leaving the scent of pine and peppermint behind him. The ghost of his presence lingering in the air.
Peeling her shirt back to take a glimpse at the damage, a gasp clutched at her throat when at what she saw. The claw marks were raised angrily, the skin around it black and purple, a summer's thunderstorm painted against her side. Smaller whelps had popped up around the wounds, a colony of sickly green lumps. She prodded at the infection, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain. Gingerly unbuttoning the shirt under the pretense of slipping on a loose pair of robes, she leaned off of the bed to look for her knapsack. Instead, her fingers skimmed across a pile of denim and cotton, a blank tank top and jeans with her wand wrapped inside the two. They reeked of earth and animal and fear.
He had gone back to fetch her things, which didn't explain his foul mood. Perhaps he had caught a glimpse of another wolf when he had been out. Or maybe going back reminded him of how stupid had she had been.
"Speculum," a ribbon of silver trailed out of the end of her wand, forming the shimmering reflection of her, all gaunt lines and sharp angles. Her skin had become thinner and tighter, her hair a dull mouse brown. The light was nearly gone from her eyes, and her bones threatened to jut out of her body. Was this an effect of the lycanthropy? Biting her lip, she cast a few well-placed glamours, watching as a flush tinted her face and her body swelled with healthy curves. The cuts on her stomach shrank to white pencil marks, just barely marring the surface. Brushing her hair out of her face, she yanked on a pair of robes and went out to search for Professor Snape.
"Are you packed, Miss Granger?" Professor Snape stabbed his wand into the air, his body betraying the anger that his tone of voice lacked. Even the air around him seemed perturbed.
"I guess so. What are you doing?" Hermione took a step forward, only to have him twist away from her.
"Making sure that traces of our magic aren't detected once we leave," Each of his muscles grew tense as she spoke and he didn't put his wand away once he was finished.
"Leaving? You said we weren't leaving till tomorrow!" Hermione crossed her arms in outrage.
"Not all of us can sleep twenty-four hours, Granger," He turned his back to her, gripping his wand tight enough to turn his knuckles white.
She had slept an entire day? How sick was she?
"I'll remember that for the time that you're attacked by a werewolf, Professor," she grumbled bitterly.
"Are you fit to travel? If not you are free to stay here for the duration of the trip. As long as you stay out of… trouble," His voice lost the flatness that it had been carrying, quickly replaced by scathing undertones.
"I shall have you know that I feel fine," Hermione reached and lifted her robes up, baring her skin to him in the sunlight. It was a bold move, something that the old Hermione wouldn't have even dreamed of. Yet here she was, presenting herself to her Potions Master, to her owner. If it could convince him that she was okay, it was worth it.
He glanced at the remnants of scarring for the briefest of moments, before his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. A pair of Slytherin green knickers and a matching bra clung to her curves, contrasting so starkly to the creaminess of her skin.
He hadn't seen her in knickers since he brought her home from Malfoy Manor. This particular set came from a set of robes that she had swiped from his drawer, intending to transfigure them back and replace them before he noticed. He definitely noticed. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
She expected an explosion. For him to reach forward and perhaps strike her, shake her, perhaps kill her. She wanted him to kiss her, to ravage her, to claim her. Instead, he dragged his eyes away and sent the tent flying back into his knapsack.
Smoothing her robes over her body, she gave him a defiant look, "You can't get rid of me that easy, Professor."
"Oh but it would be so easy," He grimaced, offering her his arm coldly; "All I would have to do is command it."
"Macgillycuddy's Reeks," Severus Snape let go of Miss Granger, gesturing at the jagged green peaks that ripped at the sky, tumbling for miles in either direction. The flower would be found where the mountains meet the water. Yet all Snape saw were trees, and trees, and trees.
"That's a mouthful," Hermione blanched for a moment, but the skin quickly recolored. She turned away from him, hiding her shaky expression.
"Miss Granger?" Snape reached out and clasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
"It's nothing," she gasped, shooting wards up without tearing his eyes away from him.
"You said you were fine," he dropped his hand and aided her, before casting the tent out. Behind him, he could hear her take a few steps through the leaves.
"I am," She took another couple of steps, and began to wretch. Snape didn't have to turn to smell it, blood.
He turned and it hit him like a freight train. The illusion was gone and Hermione Granger was dying.
"Fuck," He helped her to her feet and it was only moments before she vomited another pool of blood at his feet.
"Stupid, insufferable, intolerable girl," He murmured into her hair as he led her inside of the tent and into the small bed.
"You were already angry," She wheezed as he pulled her robes off of her, "I didn't want to make it worse."
The infection had spread through her blood stream, even the veins in her stomach turning black.
"I'm going to have to draw blood," he warned, trailing his fingers across her abdomen, "It will hurt immensely."
"Recite for me," She shifted into the mattress, "Shakespeare."
Snape traced a line through her stomach with his wand, watching it as it split open and spilled inky blood. Hermione whimpered and shrunk away from his touch.
"Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never taste of death but once."
"Julius Caesar," She smiled softly to herself as he caught the blood in a vial before whisking to the other side of the room, flipping a book open.
Snape reappeared by her side, healing the cut before she bled out.
Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear, "Miss Granger, if you die on me I'm going to bring you back and kill you myself. Again."
"Do you remember everything that I say?" She smiled up at him, the focus in her eyes slowly fading.
"I hang onto every word, Miss Granger," Snape tipped a potion down her throat; "This will stop the potion from continuing to spread."
She didn't respond, her body looking so small surrounded by miles of her matted curls of hair.
Snape took a second look at her broken body, then bent over and brushed his lips across it.
"So long as I can breathe or I can see,
So long lives your love which gives life to me."
Who knew that Severus Snape could recite poetry? What do you think will happen to Hermione? What do you guys think that Snape's best quality is? I love you guys so much xoxo!