Disclaimer: Take a hundred and divide it by four and you'll come up with twenty five ways in which I do not own Harry Potter and its characters. It's still just a bit of not for profit silliness.

Chapter 25

Honeysuckle Torture

"Are you all right, Severus?"

"Hardly," he snorted. "Have you not listened to a word I've said?" He sat slumped in a chair in front of Dumbledore's portrait, feeling drained after relaying to him the meeting with Ollivander and all he learned of Pares Animi.

"It could be worse. And your neck? Is it mending well?"

"I suppose so." He sighed and absently ran his fingers over the bandages. "I can't help but to think Nagini should have succeeded in killing me."

"That you sit in front of me with a beating heart tells me you were meant to survive," Dumbledore said, his voice laced with compassion.

"I feel broken. I think a part of me did die that night," he whispered.

"I disagree. No part of you has died, it simply yearns."

"Yes, it simply yearns for something I do not want and cannot have!"

"She yearns the same as you."

"She's so young, it isn't fair she should yearn for this," he hissed, motioning toward himself. Dumbledore nodded in understanding.

"She is young and I won't say it's fair, but to find your true kindred spirit, your soul mate, is a rare gift that should be cherished, not pushed away. You're only torturing yourself."

"Torture? I close my eyes and she's there, waiting for me in the darkness. I open my eyes and she hangs like a phantom over my every thought. I hold my wand and pretend that it's vine, as hers. I sit in chairs, in this chair, and take pleasure in the thought that perhaps she sat here once. It's sick and pathetic. It's obsession. And yes, it's torture."

"I think it best you exchange wands. It's not a permanent solution, but it might help to lessen the effects of Pares Animi while you search for answers."

"I'm beginning to think that I have no other choice. This obsession, this sense of loss, grows worse with each passing minute." Severus pulled his wand from his robes and studied it for a moment. "The idea of relinquishing my wand to that girl does not appeal to me."

"Ah, but do not forget, in return you'll receive the wand that haunts your dreams." Severus didn't reply as he stood up from his chair to pace in front of the fireplace. "Do you know what you'll do about Ollivander?" Dumbledore asked, the portrait removing his glasses and cleaning them with the sleeve of his robes.

"Yes," Severus replied. "He is weak, and I feel he craves power nearly as much as he fears it, yet I'm inclined to believe he is not a threat to us. While I hold little trust for the old man, I'm afraid he is the only one in possession of the answers we seek. After the charade of my Wizengamot hearing has passed and I can leave the grounds, I shall meet with him again, without Miss Granger."

"I've known Ollivander for many, many years. He's a good man, but I believe you are correct in thinking that power is a terrible temptation for him." Severus stopped pacing to look at the portrait as it spoke. "If you were anyone else Severus, I'd say a word of caution, but I think you understand his temptation on an intimate level. You know how best to deal with it. While I agree he is not a threat, he should be watched nonetheless."

Severus had slept little the night before, looking toward an afternoon in the library with Miss Granger with a foreboding sense of dread. He had anticipated researching wandlore with her to be awkward and uncomfortable, certainly not entertaining and, dare he say, fun. So it was with some surprise he found himself barely repressing a smirk as she dropped yet another pile of books reaching her chin onto the table in front of him with a huff.

"My my, Miss Granger, at this rate, you'll have pulled every book from its shelf by sundown." She rolled her eyes and sank into a rickety chair across the table.

"I plan to leave no book unturned until we find answers," she said, slightly breathless with exertion. She stretched her arms and glared at him - he was openly smirking at her now. "You could've helped me carry those, you know."

"And risk further injury to my neck? I think not." He regarded her bristling frustration with amusement for a moment before bringing a more serious tone to his voice. "Where is Lestrange's wand?"

"Not here," she ground out.

"Ah, so you still have it."

"Yes," she said, straightening in her chair and slamming a book down in front of her. "If you must know, I had every intention of breaking it, but..." she trailed off with a grumpy shrug.

"But what?"

"But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I tried. I'm sure Neville will be glad to do it anyway." She began flipping through the pages of the book with ferocity. "Did you find anything while I was at the shelves?"

"No. As I've continuously reminded you, I've researched this library extensively. I doubt we'll find anything new. This is rather pointless."

"It's the best we have for the moment. Besides, it never hurts to have a second set of eyes."

"Are you questioning my ability to research?" he asked.

"No, I'm questioning your ability to leave the castle to get different books without a flock of Aurors descending on you like moths to a flame," she bit out rather viciously. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, but before he could reply she raised her arms. "Wait, wait. I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. I'm no more able to leave than you at the moment." She sighed. "I haven't been sleeping well. I'm afraid I haven't been in the best of moods."

"Obviously," he grumbled as he lifted a large tome from the top of a stack of books, his anger dissipating as he read the title. He raised an eyebrow and tapped a finger on cover's tarnished gold lettering. "The Art of Revenge, Miss Granger? What does this have to do with wandlore?"

"Oh, that." She cleared her throat and leaned across the table toward Severus. "Well," she said in a low voice, "I thought this might be a convenient time to discuss another problem we have on our hands."

"Ah yes, Skeeter," Severus said, his teeth clenching on reflex. "Yes, we do owe her our…thanks."

"Thanks? Yes, something like that," she said, her smile almost devious. "She's an unregistered Animagus."

"And what's her form? A cockroach?" he snorted.

"Close," she absently flipped through a few more pages of the book in front of her, "she's a beetle."

"You can't be serious."

"But I am." She studied him for a moment. "I'm going to tell you something, and I do hope your sense of revenge is far stronger than any obligation you might feel toward being an upstanding, law-abiding wizard."

"Excuse me?" he asked, not quite sure if, as a former Death Eater turned professor, he should concerned, offended, or both.

"You see," she said quietly, glancing around the library and leaning in further over the table, "I sort of imprisoned her for a short time after the Triwizard Tournament." Severus' eyebrows shot up.

"How?"

"I'd had suspicions about the source of her information after reading her articles, so when I saw a rather conspicuous eavesdropping beetle in the hospital wing, I acted on impulse. I kept her in a jar I'd charmed to be unbreakable. It was the night of the final task." She swallowed at the memory, and Severus blinked in recollection - that was the night of the Dark Lord's return. "I wasn't sure how long she'd been listening, so I felt somewhat justified imprisoning her. Had any of the information that was discussed been heard by the wrong person, it would've been disastrous."

"Very," Severus agreed. His role as a spy would've been compromised, and if memory served correct, the dog Black had also been present, as both human and canine. If Rita had gotten away with any such information, the war may have been lost before it started, and Severus's life likely forfeit. He stared at Miss Granger in shock.

"I'm still not sure how much she might have heard, but I didn't want to risk anything," she continued, blushing under his intense gaze. "During her, um, stay in the jar, I made up some crazy rubbish that I had already reported her to Dumbledore, and that he was furious to hear of her deception. I told her that if a word of what was discussed in the hospital wing were made public, Dumbledore threatened a punishment so severe, she'd beg for the Dementors of Azkaban. I also told her we'd report her status as an unregistered Animagus to the Ministry if she didn't clean up her reporting ways in general."

Severus found himself at a loss for words. He watched, mesmerised as she cast her eyes down, her cheeks burning red. He wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and trail his fingertips across her flushed skin. She cleared her throat and began to nervously flick through the pages of her book, not meeting his eyes for a moment. When she looked up again, she held his gaze with eyes that spoke of the raw hunger he felt, confirming in his mind they were both indeed yearning.

"Well, are you going to turn me in?" she asked after a moment, a small smile tugging her lips. He blinked and it took a moment before he realized she had been asking him a question. He cleared his throat and shook his head.

"I must say, I am surprised by your actions," he said, drumming his fingertips on the table.

"I let her go, didn't I?" He detected a slight note of panic in her voice.

"Hmm, yes, I suppose you did." He looked at her, reveling in her growing agitation for a moment before finally speaking. "You are devious. Absolutely devious."

"Thank you," she said with a smug smile.

"That you take that as a compliment speaks volumes of your personality," he muttered, opening The Art of Revenge. "Why do I have a strong suspicion this book is unnecessary? You already have our revenge plotted, do you not?" He didn't look up from the book but took her silence as affirmation. "I thought as much. Out with it." He closed it and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"Well, with your hearing approaching, I thought it'd be best to take an innocent revenge that neither of us, especially you, can be implicated in criminally. So, no extortion, kidnapping, or blackmailing this time." She sounded almost disappointed.

"I agree," Seveus nodded. "Your previous actions were justified by a grave situation. While the idea of having that woman trapped in a jar is rather appealing, I do not think damaging our reputations could warrant such a revenge."

"Precisely," Hermione said, her eyes glittering. "That's why I propose an eye for an eye, so to speak. In exchange for tarnishing our reputations, we'll tarnish hers."

"And how do you purpose we do such a thing?" Severus asked, curious to hear her plan.

"Well," she said, her eyes seeming to glaze over in thought, "I'm not sure you'll like it, and it certainly won't be easy…"

"Miss Granger, surely by now you realize 'easy' is not a word in my vocabulary."

The moon was high in the night sky by the time they left the library, energetic in conspiratorial excitement despite their empty stomachs. Hermione bid farewell to Severus as they reached a corridor leading to the Gryffindor tower, but upon hearing her stomach rumble rather impressively, he insisted that she eat before settling in for the evening.

"I am hungry," she admitted, turning to walk by his side again.

"Obviously," he mumbled, relishing the feel of her glare boring into the side of his skull. They walked in silence to his office, the air growing cooler as they descended into the dungeons. He took a deep breath through his nose, letting the damp air fill his lungs to capacity. He glanced over to see Hermione studying him in amazement.

"You really do prefer the dungeons, don't you?" she asked.

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes, I do," he answered, taking another deep breath.

"But…why?" She sounded truly dumbfounded.

He thought for a moment and answered, "They're consistent."

"Consistent?" she snickered.

"Yes," he said shortly, opening the door to his office and stepping in. She followed and he wordlessly gestured that she take a chair in front of his desk. He didn't miss the martyred expression she wore as she sat on the hard wood. Severus snapped his fingers and a house-elf popped in, startling Hermione.

"We are in need of nourishment. Anything of sustenance is fine, if you are agreeable, Miss Granger?" She nodded at the house-elf, who nodded back, preparing to disapparate. "Oh, and could you send a more pleasant chair with the meal?" he asked, gesturing toward Hermione. The house-elf glanced at the chair and nodded firmly.

Their food and a well-worn, cushy armchair arrived less than a minute later. Hermione seemed all too happy to abandon her current seat and settled into the chair smiling warmly at Severus. They ate in silence, the atmosphere slightly awkward as they cleaned their plates. Hermione was yawning by the time the house-elf returned to clear their dishes.

"Shall I escort you back to your dormitory?" he asked in a rare attempt to be polite. She gave him an odd look and shook her head.

"No, I'll be fine." She stood up from her chair, hesitating for a moment. "Sleep well, Professor Snape." He nodded and watched as she headed toward the door. Each step she took away from him seemed to tug at his chest almost painfully.

"Wait," he said, just as she began to pull the door open. "There's something else we need to discuss. I thought it could wait, but I was mistaken."

"Okay," she said, walking back toward her chair with a slightly puzzled expression.

"Do you have your wand?" he asked as she sat down again.

"Yes." She pulled it from her robes and held it up. He nodded and retrieved his own wand, watching as she looked at it with wistful eyes.

"After much consideration, I've decided that we have little choice but to exchange wands, temporarily."

"Really?" she asked, blinking in surprise.

"Yes, temporarily," he said, emphasising the word. "You cannot say you do not want it." She shook her head.

"But I can," she whispered. "I don't want it, I crave it. I dream of it," she looked from his wand to meet his eyes, and they shared a moment mutual longing, "and its owner." He swallowed and looked away.

"I hope that by exchanging wands, this…hunger we feel, our souls feel, will be sated, though I am not sure for how long," he said. "I do not believe we can continue on willpower alone." He sighed and pulled a hand through his hair.

"I feel as though a part of me is gone," Hermione said. "It's dreadful."

"If what Ollivander told us holds true, our wands contain at least a signature of our magic. Let us hope this will be enough to help alleviate the effects of Pares Animi, until we find some answers."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I'm not sure how much longer I could stand feeling so…empty. " She took a shaky breath and gave him a tentative smile. "So, how shall we do this? Put them on the desk?"

"No. I think it best we hand them to each other, at the same time." He studied her for a moment, trying to gage her reaction. She seemed contemplative, her eyes unfocused as she nodded slowly.

"Brilliant. It would be like completing a circuit," she said, looking at the vine wand in her hand thoughtfully. "We've only connected through one wand, and it's been a sort of one-way connection. Through two, the connection would be complete. But, will it be dangerous?"

"I can't be sure," Severus admitted. "I've discussed it with Dumbledore, and we both think by exchanging the wands in such a manner, the relief we seek might be greater and last longer." He paused and smirked slightly. "Besides, you must be a bit curious as to what might happen?" They sat in silent thought for a few moments before Hermione stood abruptly.

"Let's do it," she said, walking around the desk toward him.

"Wait," he said, standing as well but taking a step away from her. He snapped his fingers and the house-elf that had served them earlier appeared. "Miss Granger and I are in need of your assistance. We are experimenting, and I need to you to stand over there," he pointed to a far corner of the room, "and observe us. Cast a protective shield around yourself. If anything should happen to us, I need you to alert the headmistress immediately. Are you capable of doing this?"

The house-elf nodded excitedly and seemed to almost skip to the corner, bringing a shield around its body with a snap of fingers. Snape turned his attention back to Hermione.

"Are you prepared?"

"As prepared as I'll ever be," she said, holding her wand out to him. Severus took a deep breath and brought his wand up.

"On the count of three." She nodded.

"One, two," they both counted, "three."

The moment the connection was made, his vision blurred and bursts of color flashed behind his eyes. His whole body seemed to come alive and his skin tingled with energy. He could feel Hermione's magic intertwine with his own, a sensation so intimate, so overwhelming, he couldn't help but to feel frightened.

"I'm scared too," he seemed to hear Hermione say without actually hearing her speak the words. He could feel her fear and knew she felt his. Slowly, as the sensation grew less foreign, his fear began to subside and curiosity took its place. He felt himself open up, allowing Hermione to connect with him fully.

"You are like honeysuckle," he found himself thinking in awe. Closing his eyes, he could see that her soul glowed golden yellow and white. It smelled subtly floral, tasted sweet, and felt warm. He found himself pulling it closer, wanting to bask in its light. He could feel rather than see her smile.

"And you are like soil," he felt her think with a soft chuckle. He was suddenly aware of his own soul, rich brown and green in color, musky and spicy in scent and taste, cool and damp to touch. He could feel her accepting his soul into her body as he accepted hers. Warmth was mixing with cool, floral with spice, dark with light - the combination perfect. As their magic, their souls, mingled, Severus could feel a power mounting between them. It was growing fast and he knew they'd not be able to control or contain it if it grew much stronger.

"We need to break the connection," he thought. He tried to pull away from Hermione, but she resisted.

"No," she seemed to say. She was holding onto the connection with all of her willpower, not wanting to let go.

"We must break it!" he shouted in his mind as a roaring filled his ears. "Now!"

He knew Hermione could feel his increasing panic, and he felt her begin to reluctantly pull away. The roaring in his ears subsided as the connection lessened, yet the urge to hold onto her golden soul seemed to grow. He resisted and continued to pull himself away while pushing her away, aware when his hand slipped from his blackthorn wand. He squeezed Hermione's wand in a tight grip as the room began to tilt, not releasing it until his mind fell into darkness.

A/N: I suck. I know. I've been struggling with writing lately, and this story in particular. I'm not exactly sure what brought on this months-long streak of feeling discouraged, I can only hope that it's passed. I'll do my best to get back on track with updating this story at regular intervals.

Thanks coliemcnoly for the beta!