AUTHOR'S NOTE - Content explicit. Violence in parts.
The following morning, when she woke, she was surprised to find he was still by her side. He usually rose early and most mornings, he was already finishing breakfast before she made it from under the covers.
She traced her fingers across his chest and smiled at him, embarrassed at how happy she was to see him. Sultry eyes regarded her, glinting the early morning light. "Ah, she awakes," he whispered, running a finger along her cheek and down to trail along her jawbone.
She lifted a hand to cradle his cheek, enjoying the rasp of his stubble against her palm. He dropped his head and nuzzled her neck, relishing the sweet scent of her, the softness of her skin against his lips.
Desire flared hot in Hermione at the touch of his lips and she arched against him. He chuckled, low and deep in his throat, a delightfully sensuous sound.
"My goodness, Miss Granger, you are insatiable!" he murmured, rising his head to look at the spark of longing that flamed in her eyes.
He pulled the covers away, letting his eyes feast on the soft rise of her breasts. Her skin was the colour of dawn's light on white rose petals, he thought in a rare moment of lyricism.
She blushed hotly and he laughed down at her. "Just when I was starting to think you were a shameless witch! Ah but Hermione, no true wanton worth her salt would blush so readily," he said as he bent to kiss her. She stopped him by placing her hands palm upwards against his chest.
"Is that what you think?" she asked, eyes wide and he grinned wickedly at her. "No. But I am an optimist," he replied. The sound of her laughter was lost in his kiss.
Hermione felt that day that she could have flown to Hogwarts without needing a broomstick to do so. Her heart was light, she was quick to smile and her eyes glowed with an inner radiance. She should, she thought as she busied herself in the lab, be weighted with fear as the threat of Lucius Malfoy was very real and far from resolved. Today, she felt that nothing was too great a challenge to conquer.
Hermione knew that she had fallen in love with the Potions Master. She was bound to him in ways stronger than even magic. It was a delicious secret to hold and though she knew that he did not return her feelings, she knew that she had this time with him, these special days and as long as the bubble lasted, she was going to drink up every dew drop of happiness it afforded her.
He had classes during the morning and Hermione busied herself with a new shipment of dragon scales that needed to be sorted according to weight and type. She was absorbed in the task and lost in her own blissful thoughts and did not hear the dungeon door opening.
It was only when a foul stench reached her that Hermione realised with a sense of cold dread that something was very wrong. She knew that reeking smell, the odour of old blood mixed with something she only recognised as malice.
She turned slowly and met the amber, hate filled eyes of Fenrir Greyback.
Hermione's heart slammed against her ribs and her breath caught in her throat as tendrils of icy fear froze her blood in her veins. Her fingers closed around her wand and she pointed it at him, feelings revulsion crawling up her skin at the way he ran his tongue around his yellowed teeth. His mottled skin was putrid, open sores seeping.
He was in motion before she had sent the stunning spell and it shattered a row of bottles on a shelf in the distance, exploding in a blue haze.
He connected with her before she had a chance to so much as scream.
Together they fell to the floor and though winded, Hermione clawed to find purchase on the floor, anything to give her leverage to get away from his monstrous form. She sent a repello spell flying but it met his own counter curse and fizzled into nothingness.
He pressed his weight upon her, his breath fanning her face like an evil benediction.
His hands grasped her wrists and he squeezed until she thought her bones would snap. She heard the clatter of her wand against the floor and then his voice was rasping next to her ear.
"You are a delectable thing. A fine prize," he slavered and Hermione fought to drive back the bile that rose in her throat at the rotten stink that filled her nostrils. He smelled of wet earth, dead things and decay. His eyes were blood shot and when he put out a long, blood red tongue and touched it against her face, she screamed as though burned with acid.
"This is to be mine," he said, pressing dirty, clawed hand against her mouth. The taste of him made nausea rise afresh and Hermione felt sure she was going to choke. "You have such lovely skin. How tasting it will pleasure me," he said.
Keeping one hand pressed against her mouth, he took hold of the neck of her blouse with the other and pulled, the soft fabric rending as a web like dribble of saliva oozed from his mouth onto her exposed skin.
Hermione felt tears escape her eyes and when he clutched her breast, his nails digging into her flesh, pain flashed through her but it was as nothing to the sense of powerlessness that engulfed her.
"First a little for me. You won't be such an ice maiden when you've had me in you. I will have my fill and then, you will give Lucius what he wants. Then, maybe, if you slake me well enough, I will be merciful and kill you," he breathed and Hermione summoned the last ounce of strength she could muster to bite down on the hand that pressed down on her mouth.
He roared in pain, and his face, which was never truly human, took on a demonic glare of pure hatred.
He bared his teeth and Hermione could only hope that she had provoked him enough that he would finish this now.
She closed her eyes against the appalling sight of his rancid features, contorted with malevolence. "Avada Kedavra!" the cry was a guttural roar and when she felt his weight heave onto her as the room around her filled with a strange green light, she felt only relief at dying and surprise that it did not hurt.
Then, she was free, the oppressive heaviness of him was gone and the air around her smelled cleaner, filled with achingly familiar scents of powdered herbs and pungent liquids.
Then there were warm hands holding her and the voice she longed to hear even just once more was calling her name and she blessed the angel that made that hallucination possible.
"Hermione! Come on, my heart, open your eyes. Look at me!" the much loved voice was demanding and though Hermione would have happily sank into the darkness, she could not refuse that urgent plea.
Her eyelids flickered and if she expected fluffy clouds and cherubs on the side of The Veil, Hermione was much mistaken. Instead she saw the haggard face of Severus Snape, eyes of jet staring at her as though he was looking into the very heart of darkness. As he saw her eyes open, his face took on the appearance of a man who was recovering from a long illness.
"Hermione! That's it now. Open your eyes and stay with me", he gasped, breathless emotion in his voice. He eased an arm around her shoulders and urged her forward. Hermione had a sense that the nauseating swirl in her stomach eased and then a slow relief spread in her that she was alive and somehow, he had found her.
"I am here and it is going to be okay. Stay with me now, lovey,"
his use of the old fashioned nursery endearment after the trauma she had endured was her undoing. Scalding tears spilled from her eyes.
"Severus? Severus, I'm sorry. I think I've been sick on myself," she sobbed. "Hush now. It's ok. What does it matter? We'll get you cleaned up and out of here before you know it," he said gently, rubbing her hands in his.
"Is she alright, Severus? Hermione?" she heard a familiar voice ask urgently. "Harry?" she called, wondering if she hallucinating afterall. Why was Harry here?
She tried to stand, but strong hands were on her shoulders. "Easy now, there's a girl. Take it easy," Severus said.
"She'll be fine, Harry. Diagnostic showed nothing more than cuts. He didn't bite her. Move that thing, keep it out of her sight," Severus said, his wand in his hand. He muttered an incantation as blue light radiated down Hermione's prone body, cleaning the cuts that lacerated her body, keeping the risk of infection from the werewolf at a minimum. It would not be all but it was enough for now.
"Severus. He's dead isn't he? You killed him?" she asked, her throat feeling raw. She saw Harry point his wand at a huddled heap on the floor not far away and it was engulfed in a misty haze before vanishing altogether.
"Yes. Now put him from your mind. It's all over, Hermione," Snape said, trying to meet her frightened eyes with a look of confidence. In truth, he was only getting his own frantic panic in check. For a moment, one awful, gut wrenching second, he
thought he'd lost her.
His hands were shaking and he fought to bring the white hot rage that coursed through him back under control.
When he walked in and saw Greyback, every nightmare he could possibly have flashed before him. He didn't have to even think about it, the killing curse had left his lips before conscious thought had caught up with it. The werewolf had not even seen it coming. This was the only disappointment Snape felt. He wanted that murdering monster to feel the fear of his own imminent death, he wanted him to know the same suffering he was visiting upon Hermione.
Harry kept his back judiciously turned to them as Severus stripped away the tattered remnants of the soiled blouse she was wearing, desperate to remove every trace of the stench that Greyback had left.
He pointed his wand to the vivid scratches the werewolf had clawed into her breasts, warm light closing the cuts, so that only uneven red lines remained to mar her perfect skin. Snape would have liked to kill Greyback all over again just for that.
"I am so sorry," she sobbed, looking at him with such hurt in her eyes that Snape's own heart missed a beat.
"Don't you blame yourself for this, Hermione. It is not your fault. Malfoy sent that evil ghoul here and he will pay," he said and Hermione saw his face harden like granite. When he looked at her, though, his eyes were tender.
"You are a brave girl and thank Merlin for it. Now, I am going to lift you and we are going to get out of here. Can you be a love and put your arms around my neck? I think you've had enough high adventure today without my adding dropping you on the head to it," he smiled at her, though his face still bore a haunted look, Hermione somehow smiled back.
"You found me. You saved my life," she breathed, as he took his cloak and wrapped it around her as he lifted her into his arms. "And what a nice mess I would be in if I hadn't," he said in a husky undertone.
She dropped her head against his shoulder, the absolute terror she had felt melting away as his arms held her securely.
Harry handed the invisibility cloak to Snape. "What now, Severus? How do we get her out of here?" Harry asked.
"First we go back to my office. We can apparate from there," Snape replied, manouevering the cloak so that the girl in his arms vanished from sight. Harry cast a trick of the eye charm so that anyone they met would think Snape was carrying a prone house elf.
"Severus, I can walk," Hermione protested. He felt her trembling in his arms and thought that it would be a mercy if she managed not to pass out again, let alone walk the winding stairs to the headmaster's office. "Hush now. We're leaving, Hermione. Just hold on and do not make a sound," he murmured to her, holding her tightly to him as though he was never going to let her go again.
Snape set a pace from the dungeons that would have persuaded some that he had grown wings.
He billowed into his office and as soon as Harry closed the door behind them, he shot him a quick glance. "Let Minerva know. And tell Molly I need her. Convene the Order, Harry. I will see you there," he said briskly.
"Grimmauld Place!" he said and with a crack, he was gone.