"What next, Professor Snape? Should we check the upper floors again?"
Severus turned on his heel, resisting the urge to scowl at the Ministry official. They'd already patrolled those floors three times, yielding nothing but a single dust bunny that still clung to the man's robes.
"Dungeons," he said, craving a darker environment. The afternoon sunlight was blinding, his head throbbing from too much stress and far too little sleep.
They checked the kitchens, followed by Hufflepuff and Slytherin's common rooms and dormitories. The supply closet, his office, the Potions classroom…
"Doesn't look any different."
"Obviously," he said, wondering if he'd get in trouble for hexing the fool. Instead, he lifted his wand, pointing it at empty space.
"Homenum Revelio."
Pointless. Assuming this was Ashwood, the boy was far too clever to fall for such a predictable trick. He'd stay well out of range of any revealing charms, biding his time until yet another victim could be caught unawares.
"Back upstairs, then?"
"First floor," he said. "Starting with the Hospital Wing."
10 minutes later, he felt slightly better, helped by one of Poppy's headache treatments. They headed toward the Great Hall, running into Hagrid's group at the Front Entrance.
"What is it?" Severus said, perturbed by the larger man's appearance. "Did you find something?"
Hagrid had a bright, almost feverish look in his eyes, his cheeks flushed with color. He nodded, flashing what could only be described as a shit eating grin.
"Well? Spit it out."
"Not something. Someone… erm, several someones."
With that, Hagrid threw open the doors, executing a peculiar little bow. One by one, they strode into the castle, oblivious to Severus's growing horror.
"Showed up right in the nick of time, didn't ye? Aye, I shoulda known you three…"
"Four."
"Right ye are, Miss Weasley. Sorry, didn't see ye there."
"Harry Potter?!" One of the Ministry officials gasped. "I always wanted to meet…"
"No," Severus said, his voice cutting across the din. "Absolutely not."
"Sev… Professor Snape," Hermione said quietly. "We've come to help."
He couldn't bring himself to look at her, afraid he'd lose his resolve. All those weeks alone, longing to see her face, hear her voice…
"Out of the question," he snapped. "'Hagrid?"
"Yeh, Professor?"
"Escort them back to the gates."
He turned on his heel, heading for the stairs. It took him a minute to realize that none of them had moved, the air thick with quiet defiance.
"Did you not hear me? I said…"
"Why send them away? All of them are capable fighters, and they've got plenty of experience with Death Eaters and the like. More than any of us, really."
"Speak for yourself," Severus said sourly, glaring at the Ministry official.
"Of course, Professor. I wasn't referring to you."
"He's right," Weasley said. "It's not like we don't know what we're doing."
"Did I ask for your input, Mr. Weasley?"
"I don't give a toss whether you asked for it or not. You can't make us leave."
It was a direct challenge, one that Severus didn't know how to deal with. Granted, he could resort to more extreme measures, but to what end? One look at the other faces, and he knew he had no allies here.
"Severus?"
Hermione had moved closer, pitching her voice low to ensure she wasn't overheard. For the first time, he looked directly at her, immediately recognizing his mistake. Those soft brown eyes, that pleading expression…
"Go home," he said stiffly. "Take your friends and go home."
"You're my home."
Three words, and he was a lost cause. He took a minute to compose himself, cursing his own weakness as he turned to address her companions.
"If you stay, you'll be required to follow the rules I've set out. Any failure to do so and you'll be banished from this school."
"Okay."
"Are you sure about that, Potter? Obedience has never been your forte."
"Yes, sir."
No snarky comments, not even a dirty look? Severus swallowed his surprise, turning his attention to Weasley.
"How about you? Are you capable of behaving yourself?"
Weasley scowled, not bothering to hide his dislike. Still, he nodded, his sister doing the same.
"Miss Granger?"
"Of course."
"Very well," he said, sighing heavily. "The first and most important rule is to stay together. That means all four of you. No splitting off into pairs, and I certainly don't want any of you wandering around alone. The only exception is the Room of Requirement, which of course, is where you'll be sleeping."
"What else?" Hermione said.
"The only other rule, at least for the time being, pertains to food."
"Food?" Weasley frowned.
"No trips to the kitchens, no dinners in the Great Hall. Three of our professors were poisoned last week… the food supply cannot be trusted."
"What are we supposed to eat, then?"
"Minerva made arrangements with Aberforth," Severus said. "He's agreed to provide our meals until further notice."
Weasley nodded, clearly relieved.
"Professor Snape, may I speak to you for a minute?" Hermione said. "I mean, if you're finished…"
"I'm finished. Hagrid? You may resume your patrol."
Privacy wasn't an option, at least for the time being. The best he could do was lead her around the corner, turning on his heel as he cast a Muffliato.
"You're angry."
"What did you expect? Disregarding my wishes, putting yourself in danger…"
"You need help," she said gently. "I know you don't want to admit it, but you can't do this alone."
"So you and your illustrious friends decided to swoop in and compensate for my shortcomings? Wonderful."
"Severus?"
"What?" he snapped.
"You're being a git."
She was right, though he sure as hell wasn't going to say so. He glared at her instead, struggling to come up with a suitable response.
"You're also tired and frustrated and scared… look, I get it, okay? But me, Harry, Ron, Ginny… do you know why all four of us decided to come?"
"To maximize my suffering?"
"No," she said, looking faintly amused. "We're all here because there's strength in numbers. That was true during the war, wasn't it? What would've happened if Harry, Ron, and I hadn't worked together?"
He sighed. "We'd all be living under the Dark Lord's regime."
"Well, I don't know about that, but…"
"Potter and Weasley were two of the most foolish, incompetent children I've ever had the displeasure of dealing with. You were the one who ensured their success, a feat I still don't know how you managed to accomplish."
"That's exactly my point."
"What, that your friends are foolish?" He smirked. "I'm glad you finally recognize…"
"No," she said, giving him an exasperated look. "What I'm saying is that I had something valuable to offer. You pointed that out yourself."
Obviously, he wasn't going to disagree with her on that. He inclined his head, waiting for her to continue.
"We all have different strengths, just like we did during the war. None of us could've done it alone, not you or me or Harry, or…"
"Point taken," he said reluctantly. "I just wish you didn't feel the need to…"
"Put myself in danger?"
"Yes."
"Severus…" She paused, glancing over her shoulder before she laid a hand on his arm. "We're both in danger, whether I'm here or not. If I was off at the Burrow and something happened to you… do you honestly think that would be the end of it?"
"I suppose not."
She nodded. "I'd rather deal with it now than spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder."
Once again, she was right. He couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't be killed, nor that the threat would be eliminated before his demise. And what then? What would happen if he was dead and gone, powerless to protect her or intervene on her behalf?
"You don't have to convince me," he said. "Haven't I already agreed that you and your friends can stay?"
"That isn't enough."
"No? What else do you want?"
"I want you to be okay with it."
He shrugged. "Does it matter?"
"It does to me. I don't want you to be angry or upset or sorry…"
"I'm not sorry," he said abruptly.
"You're not?"
No, he wasn't. Perhaps he should be, but the truth was, he'd been miserable without her. Right or wrong, danger or no danger…
Besides, she'd made a valid point. Several of them, actually. The value of experience. Strength in numbers. Loath as he was to admit it, she and her friends were far better equipped to deal with this situation than those Ministry fools.
"No, I'm not sorry. Just don't make me regret it."
She nodded, flashing him a brilliant smile. It was like a glimpse of sunlight after weeks of rain, warming him from the inside as he resisted the urge to kiss her.
"We should get back to the others."
"Wait."
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a roll of parchment. She unfurled it with a flick of her wrist, handing it over for his inspection.
"An essay on… Cheering Charms?"
"It's a map."
"A map?" He flipped it over, though the other side was blank. "I don't see anything."
"Yeah, I know. It works like the other one, though the protection spell is a bit stronger."
"The other one? You mean this shows…"
"Names and locations of everyone in the castle," she said. "Not just the castle, but the grounds, even the Forbidden Forest. That last one took a bit of extra work, but I wanted to make sure…"
"You did this?"
She nodded, looking rather pleased with herself.
"Minerva, Ashwood… this is how you knew?"
"We saw it happen. One minute, he was heading across the grounds… he must've flown in through the window. We wanted to send a Patronus, but…"
"There wasn't time," he finished for her.
"Right, which is why we had to come. The maps…"
"Maps?" he interrupted. "You mean there's more than one?"
"Four."
"Will any of them work for me?"
She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I couldn't figure out how to do it without limiting the enchantment. No one can see it unless they were involved in its creation."
"Don't apologize," he said. "This is quite an achievement, regardless."
"Really?"
"Yes, though perhaps that was an understatement. It's genius."
Genius indeed. This one slip of parchment could easily spell the difference between life and death, success or failure. He handed it back to her, eager to incorporate it into their strategy.
"Well?" he said. "What do you see?"
"I don't see Ashwood, if that's what you're asking. He comes and goes."
"Have you seen any names you don't recognize? Anyone you found suspicious?"
"Just Ashwood," she said. "I'm starting to think there isn't anyone else."
Severus shook his head. "The incidents while he was in Azkaban…"
"Filch could've done those things. You said that yourself."
"Yes, though only if someone was directing his actions. However conniving Ashwood might be, he couldn't have controlled him from prison. There's someone else, a mastermind…"
Fear flashed in her eyes, her jaw tightening as she glanced at his forearm. What could he say that would reassure her? Even now, he could feel that dull, persistent burn, taunting him with the knowledge that the worst was yet to come.
"Of course, we mustn't jump to conclusions," he continued. "There's always a possibility that…"
"Sorry to interrupt," Ginevra said, poking her head around the corner. "You about done, Hermione?"
Severus canceled the Muffliato, groaning inwardly as Weasley appeared behind his sister.
"Yeah, I was just telling Professor Snape about the map."
"Right, well, we're getting hungry. Thought we'd go down to Hogsmeade and grab something to eat… I mean, if that's okay."
Tempted though he was to forbid it, Severus knew they'd be fine as long as they had the maps. If Ashwood was stupid enough to try and sneak up on them? He'd almost certainly regret it.
"Wands out at all times," he said. "Maps, too. I expect you back within the hour."
"Yes, sir."
It began around midnight, mild discomfort replaced by a white hot searing sensation. Severus lay awake in the darkness, shivering violently, resisting the urge to scream as the pain intensified.
During that first hour, he felt as if it would never end. By the second, he was tempted to cut his own arm off to escape it. The third, the fourth, the fifth… it was all he could do not to respond to the summons, fingers trembling as they hovered over the Dark Mark.
Finally, the pain subsided, his body going limp as rays of sunlight spilled through the window. He was utterly drained by then, sheets drenched with sweat, barely able to summon the strength to crawl out of bed and into the shower.
"Morning, Professor."
Why did they feel the need to speak to him right after he'd gotten up? He scowled, longing for the room he'd shared with Hermione. Their private sanctuary had turned into a hostel, complete with 11 unwanted guests. Hagrid was arguably the worst, flashing an obnoxious grin as he offered… well, Severus didn't know what it was, but he sure as hell wasn't going to eat it.
"Coffee," he muttered, sighing in relief as a cup appeared in front of him. He didn't bother with cream or sugar, downing two full cups before he trusted himself to speak.
"Change of plans," he announced. "Hagrid will pair up with Pomona, the two of them scouting the grounds. Callum? Choose two of your colleagues and search the dungeons. The other three will be assigned to the first and second floors."
He dismissed them soon thereafter, leaving them with the impression that he'd be patrolling the upper floors along with Potter, the Weasleys, and Hermione.
"Shouldn't we tell them about the maps?"
"No," he told Ginevra. "The fewer people know, the better."
"He's right," Hermione said. "The last one was stolen because Ashwood knew we had it. Besides, we don't want him to know we can track him. The element of surprise…"
"Is all we have," Severus finished for her, his voice grim.
"So what would you like us to do?" Potter said. "Just sit here and wait for him to show back up?"
"While my plan might seem insufficient to the great Harry Potter…"
"He didn't say that," Hermione interrupted.
"The implication speaks for itself."
"What implication? All he did was ask what you wanted us to do!"
Severus was being irrational. He knew it as he stood up, slamming his cup on the table. Still, he didn't know how to suppress his ill temper, nor could he be bothered to try. Too much pain, too much exhaustion, too much bloody fear… the last thing he needed was to be put on the defensive.
"Do what you want," he said acidly. "I don't give a damn."
He didn't miss the hurt in her eyes, already regretting his behavior as he turned and left the room.
Hermione slipped through the door, closing it behind her before she turned to look at Severus. He was lying on his back, deeply asleep, never stirring as she crawled into bed beside him.
She'd known he was exhausted. He'd been complaining about it for weeks, though reading it in a letter and seeing the evidence were two different things. Those dark circles under his eyes, skin so pale it was almost translucent…
She lost her train of thought, holding her breath as he let out a moan. He lifted his arm, exposing the Dark Mark as his hand fell back onto the pillow.
It was hurting him. She could see it in his face, features twisting into a grimace. Thankfully, it didn't last long, his expression smoothing out as she felt him relax.
That gave her the opportunity to study the Mark itself. It was hideous, a crude black etching rather than the faint, barely detectable outline she remembered. Just looking at it was terrifying, an inescapable reminder that…
"What are you doing in here?"
She jumped, her eyes darting back up to his face. His were bloodshot yet focused, the eyes of someone who didn't have the luxury of waking up gradually.
"I came by to check on you."
"Why?"
"What do you mean, 'why?' I was worried about you."
"I'm fine," he said. "Go back to your friends."
"They're asleep."
"Asleep? What time is it?
"10," she said. "Maybe 10:30."
"AM?"
She shook her head. "PM."
"PM?!" He sat up, cursing under his breath. "Why didn't you… why didn't someone wake me earlier?"
"Because nothing happened. Seriously, we spent 12 hours watching that map, and we never saw a thing."
"So? You still shouldn't have…"
"Let you sleep? Severus, you were exhausted."
She hated the way this conversation was going. No matter what she said, his responses made her feel like she'd done something wrong. Even now, he looked furious, rubbing his forearm as he glared at the wall.
"How bad is it?"
"Not half as bad as it will be," he said darkly.
What did he mean by that? She wanted to ask, though she was afraid he'd just bite her head off again.
"Is there anything I can…"
"No."
"Do you want me to leave?"
Finally, he turned his head, his eyes meeting hers. There was something desperate in the way he looked at her, like someone fighting a battle that had already been lost. The weariness in his expression, the absence of hope…
"No."
"What?"
"No," he said more firmly. "I don't want you to leave."
He laid back down, closing his eyes as she stretched out beside him. After a moment, she moved a little closer, relieved when he drew her into his arms. This was far more normal, something she understood, her body relaxing as he buried his face in her hair.
"I'm sorry," he murmured.
"For what?"
"For my behavior. What I said earlier…"
"Don't worry about it."
He shook his head. "My words have been the cause of too much misery, self-inflicted or otherwise. The least I can do is take responsibility for them."
"You just did," she said. "You apologized and I forgave you. Shouldn't that be the end of it?"
"I wish it was."
"What do you mean?
"If I survive…"
"When you survive."
"If I survive," he repeated. "It will happen again. I'll get in a bad mood, say something harsh or thoughtless…"
"Severus…" She paused, resisting the urge to smile. "That happens. All of us say things we don't mean, hurt people even when that isn't our intention. Do you know how many times Ron has hurt my feelings, or Harry, or…"
He rolled his eyes. "That's different."
"No, it isn't. When you care about someone, friend or otherwise, you take the good with the bad. Besides…" This time, she did smile, pressing her lips to his cheek. "If I wanted someone who was pleasant all the time, I wouldn't have chosen you."
"Point taken," he said, looking faintly amused. "Just don't be afraid to tell me…"
"When you're being an ass? Trust me, I won't."
"Good."
His kiss took her by surprise, tongue delving into her mouth as he tugged on the hem of her nightshirt. He lifted it over her head, tossing it on the floor, making short work of his own clothes before he yanked her underwear down over her legs.
Abrupt though it was, she couldn't say she minded. They'd been separated for weeks, after all, both of them weighed down by an inordinate amount of stress, fear, and uncertainty. A chance to escape from that reality, find some release…
Suddenly, she needed it as badly as he did, kissing him back with equal ferocity. His touch… even that was rougher than usual, hands squeezing her breasts, her hips and backside, fingers plunging inside her without warning. She gasped, his hand going still as his eyes met hers.
"Too much?"
She shook her head. "Do whatever you want."
The next thing she knew, she was on her hands and knees, holding her breath as he entered her from behind. There was something different about this position, raw, almost animalistic, his fingers digging into her hips as he pulled her back to meet his thrusts. Slow at first, then faster, harder…
She moaned, quite certain she'd never been penetrated so deeply. The angle, the friction, that relentless, pounding rhythm… she lost herself to the sensations, whimpering as sweet, familiar tension coiled within her.
"Now," Severus whispered, his voice ragged. "I can't…"
A few seconds later, she cried out, gripping the bed frame as she shuddered from head to toe. She heard him groan, a harsh, desperate sound, slamming into her several more times, until finally…
"Fuck."
One word, whispered like a prayer… he slumped forward, clinging to her like a lifeline as his body went limp.
"Are you all right?" he asked her a few minutes later.
She nodded. "You?"
He murmured his assent, lifting his head to kiss her shoulder. By then, they were lying down, his chest against her back, breath rasping against her ear. She'd never felt safer, more secure, wishing they could stay that way forever.
"Severus?"
"Hmmm?"
"I love you."
The noise he made could only be described as a whimper, his fingers clutching hers so tightly it was almost painful. After a moment, he loosened his grip, kissing each of her knuckles with an odd sort of reverence.
"I love you, too. Remember that."
Remember…
She opened her mouth to ask him what he meant, though she ended up yawning instead. Too warm, too comfortable, too sleepy…
She'd ask him tomorrow.
Severus had finally found the relief he'd needed. Unfortunately, it couldn't last. Hermione had barely fallen asleep when the Dark Mark prickled, warning him that his respite was nearly over.
"Bloody hell," he muttered.
He tried to ignore it, suppressing a groan as he buried his face in her hair. An hour later, he was weeping, her damp curls clinging to his face as he forced himself to pull away.
The pain was worse tonight, so intense it nearly brought him to his knees. He put on his shirt, his trousers, hoping that movement would provide a distraction. He paced from one end of the Room of Requirement to the other, pausing in the bathroom to run ice cold water over the Mark.
Nothing he did seemed to help, his breaths turning into gasps as the clock… bloody hell, was it only 2 AM? If the previous nights were any indication, he still had four more hours to suffer through.
By 3 AM, he'd made his way to the Hospital Wing, unconcerned about the risk he was taking by venturing out into the dark, deserted corridors. What could anyone do that would be worse than this? He cast a Muffliato, allowing himself a single, agonized scream before he plundered through Poppy's storage cabinet. Blood Replenisher, Cure for Boils…
The best he could find was a mild pain relief potion. He swallowed every drop, though he knew it wouldn't help.
At 4 AM, the burning intensified. He collapsed onto one of the hospital beds, curling in on himself as he dug his fingernails into the Mark. If only he could rip it out…
He couldn't, though that didn't stop him from trying, groaning and cursing as he gouged at his skin. Blood dripped down his forearm, soaking into the sheets…
It was all for nothing. Every bit of it. His vast knowledge of potions, years of careful study he'd devoted to the Dark Arts? Utterly pointless. None of his knowledge made a difference now, his arm on fire as he writhed in the darkness.
"Se… Sectum…"
He couldn't bring himself to do it, gritting his teeth as he dropped his wand. 4:30 AM, 4:45…"
"FUCK!"
He hadn't thought it could get any worse. Clearly, he'd been wrong, his body wracked by violent sobs as the agony ratcheted up another notch.
You know how to stop this. Do it.
That voice, that soft, insidious voice… it had been in the back of his mind for nearly a week now, ever since the burning had started. Night after night, he'd forced himself to ignore it, reminding himself that the end was in sight. If he could just make it until morning…
Do it, Severus.
"Fuck off," he muttered, his voice raw. 5:21 AM…
One touch. Just one little touch, and you'll never have to go through this again.
Even in the depths of his suffering, Severus knew that voice wasn't real. It was a figment of his imagination, preying upon his weakness, testing his resolve. If he allowed himself to listen, even for a second…
"No."
5:45 AM…
Drawing on every ounce of willpower he had left, he forced his body to relax. Slow, deep breaths… he released each one as a shuddering moan, counting the minutes…
5:57 AM.
Just three more minutes and the pain would subside. It always did, the timing so predictable he could've set a watch by it. 5:58… 5:59…
The last 30 seconds felt like an eternity, but he suffered through them, reassured by the faint gray light of predawn that had appeared in the window.
5… 4… 3… 2… 1…
He clutched his forearm, hissing as the pain spiked. Maybe the clock down here was a couple minutes off?
It isn't going to stop. Surely you realize that.
"It will stop," he said, his jaw clenched so tight he could barely get the words out. "It always does."
Not this time.
6:15… 6:30…
"I can't…"
By then, the sun had fully risen, the Hospital Wing bathed in shades of pink and gold. Severus dropped to his knees beside the bed, trembling so violently it took him several attempts to pick up his wand. He shoved it in his pocket, chest heaving as he stared at the Dark Mark. Marred with scratch marks, bloody and grotesque…
Can't what?
"I can't stand it anymore!"
Then put a stop to it.
He shook his head, unable to formulate a response.
Come, Severus. You know it's only a matter of time.
He did know that. Deep down, he'd known it all along, even as he'd struggled to hold out for a better alternative. If Ashwood was captured, if they could finally figure out who was behind…
He lost his train of thought, screaming as another surge of pain radiated through his arm. Worse, it was still getting worse…
Surviving a few hours was one thing. Agonizing pain with no end in sight? That was something else entirely. He couldn't make it another day, not even one more hour, his hand shaking as his fingers hovered over the Dark Mark.
That's right, the voice murmured. Just let go…
He pressed down hard, responding to the summons with a howl of defeat.