Ch. 3— Adam and Eve
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"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here." The words were etched in silver all along the mirrored door, and Hermione's mouth went dry.
The screams of torment behind the door were deafening.
"Guard your flames and keep them close, Miss Granger. I've a feeling we're going to need them every step of the way in this place. Now, this level is about conviction and choice. Those that neither chose God nor Satan were forced to run behind a blank banner, being prodded into action by wasps and hornets that bite and sting. Now, are you centered, Miss Granger?"
Drawing a deep breath, Hermione nodded, and then held her breath as Professor Snape hissed the words: 'Gate Open'.
The moment the gate opened, the screaming stopped and an idyllic, sun-lit meadow greeted them. Hermione looked around in surprise before looking straight up at Professor Snape to read his expression. It was blank faced which meant he was occluding strongly.
Her mind quickly assessed what could be wrong in this truly beautiful place. That's when she looked down and noticed the words: Choose a direction written in gold in the dirt at their feet. She pointed and said, "Sir, look."
Right as she said it, the words began to change, melting from gold to bronze then red to black before disappearing entirely.
Hermione gasped because distantly, she could hear the droning sound of bees.
Oh, holy shite!
Professor Snape jerked her quickly to the left, and they half-walked, half-ran to the forest ahead.
"So, this is a maze, and we're the rats, right?" she shouted as she ran beside him.
"Very astute," he clipped, and for once, Hermione didn't think he was speaking sarcastically.
She looked over to her right and saw what looked to be directions of some kind etched in gold by the entrance to the path of the forest. She grabbed his forearm, saying, "Sir." And pointed.
It read:
Conviction is about choice. Choose Wisely.
"Remember," said Professor Snape, "we are being tested on the courage of our conviction."
As they began walking into the forest, the sunlight grew patchy in spots as the green canopy swallowed them up. A trickling stream ran trippingly along the path where they walked, the green grass underfoot was soft and inviting. With the flowering vines of Lystra and Bergamot, among others she couldn't identify, it was a sight to behold. And if not for the droning of wasps and hornets behind them, it would've been a Garden of Eden.
Professor Snape halted her by placing a hand on her shoulder and pointing.
Hermione saw the golden letters appear on the dirt in front of them.
'Choose.'
And the path branched off into two. The golden letters began to turn bronze, and Professor Snape nodded to the right as they began to walk along the trail, the droning of wasps hummed behind them, but thankfully, they seemed to be keeping their distance.
The path was leading them along a creek which became wider and deeper the further they went until it resembled a small river. There was a wooden bridge up ahead, and as they drew closer, words began to appear in gold above it.
Only one of you can walk across. Choose.
The golden letters began to turn bronze and then red, and Hermione looked uncertainly up at Professor Snape.
In answer, he drew her in his arms, and lifting her, began to carry her.
"Well, that's one way to go about things," she said nervously as he carried her across. He held her bridal fashion, and their positions were awkward, the both of them rigid and uncomfortable. And looking up, she saw Professor Snape had a resigned expression on his face as he stared resolutely ahead.
A column of air swirled around them, and then Hermione was being torn from his arms and tossed down arse-first upon the bridge. She landed hard, almost biting through her tongue. Meanwhile the droning of the hornets and wasps grew ever louder.
The words 'Only one' appeared glowing in red in front of them and then began to morph to black.
Hermione gulped and once more looked to Professor Snape for guidance. He held out his hand to her and drew her to her feet.
"Stay here," he ordered, stepping forward.
As soon as he took a step, a troll appeared in front of her, scooping her up.
"Put me down!" she cried, jerking and fighting against the thing. It was no taller than she, but it was built with massive muscle, its arms and legs as thick as tree trunks.
Professor Snape turned back, his eyes widening as he reached for her. But he was again stopped by a column of air.
A sacrifice is required, letters in gold read. Choose the path of bravery amidst sacrifice. Or cowardice. Either will do.
The troll held her immobile; she could move nothing. Hermione gulped and watched Professor Snape, relieved when she saw he didn't even think about leaving her behind, instead turning to study the troll that held her.
She heard him hiss the words, "I choose sacrifice."
The moment the words were said, the troll threw her into the water, and she gasped.
Cold.
It was so incredibly cold and deep, deceptively deep. It felt like thousands of tiny, icy needles puncturing and pummeling her skin, picking her up and carrying her away. She was able to draw one good, deep breath, and then she was being tugged under the water's icy depths.
She tried to swim, but her arms were like lead weights pulling her down. And she realized, as with the tri-wizard tournament, she was the prize, not the champion attaining it, and she would not be permitted to do anything to save herself.
Looking up to the fading, dappled light above, her lungs started to hurt.
Two arms like steel bands caught her around the middle, and tugged, kicking. With relief, she looked behind to find Professor Snape there, swimming them to the surface.
Progress was slow; she was still being tugged under by the current. But Professor Snape kicked and pulled, his grip around her insistent.
Seconds passed like hours, and she knew they were going nowhere, and Hermione's vision began to darken.
Her lungs were oxygen-starved now, and her body began to spasm. She was going to drown! Without a doubt she was going to drown. Releasing the last of her breath, little bubbles rising around them, she had little choice now but to inhale water. But then Professor Snape's face was near her own, and he pinched her nose and pressed his lips to hers using his tongue to pry open her mouth. His lips formed a seal fusing his mouth to hers, and then he was forcing the breath from his lungs into hers.
God help her, she drank greedily; her vision clearing as her lungs began to work again. Cradling the back of her head, he continued to breathe air into her lungs, and she panicked, realizing he was giving her all he had. She tried to pull away, but he refused to let her, forcing her to take all he gave.
Only when he gave her the very bottom of his breath did the invisible bonds holding her slacken, and she was free.
Breaking their kiss, Hermione tugged, watching in horror as their positions were reversed. Professor Snape spasmed, beginning to drown just as she'd done seconds before. Drawing from a strength borne from panic, she took him by the waist, and kicking, made for the water's surface.
With a choked gasp she was above, and she turned to face him.
He was unconscious.
She hurriedly swam them towards the riverbank and laid him as flat as she could, still coughing and gasping herself as she tried to catch her breath and stop her shivering.
She felt for his pulse.
It wasn't there.
Her hands shaking, she immediately began CPR.
One-two-three-four on to a count of twenty. She checked his pulse.
Nothing.
Like he'd done for her, she pinched his nose and formed a seal between their two mouths, administering the kiss of life.
She felt for a pulse.
There wasn't one.
One-two-three-four… onward. "Come on, professor, dammit!"
Again, she checked his pulse.
Nothing.
And at the end of her count, she once more pinched his nose closed, and drew his mouth open, bending down and breathing for him.
He coughed.
And water filled her mouth. Quickly, she turned his head to the side as he gasped and sputtered, his entire body shaking as he expelled water from his lungs.
"That's it," Hermione encouraged, patting him heartily on the back. "That's right, breathe."
Seeing him almost recovered, she sat back, trying to calm her racing heart and shivering limbs. The troll was still there. However, now he was standing to the side, his head bowed as if granting them permission to cross.
After another bout of coughing, Professor Snape turned around with great effort and looked up, first at her and then at the troll.
"Miss Granger," he asked hoarsely, "are you… alright?"
She gulped and nodded. "Yes, sir."
Hauling herself to her feet, and dusting herself off the best she could, Hermione reached down and grabbed for his hand. And with a tug, she helped pull him up.
"You almost made the ultimate sacrifice, sir." She looked at him solemnly. "Your life for my own."
His scowl deepened. "It was necessary for us to continue. Now, let go. The hornets and wasps are coming."
And, indeed, the angry sound was louder than it had been before.
The two of them made their way to the bridge, and Hermione held her breath as they passed the troll. The thing held its head down, emotionless, almost as if it were a living statue.
With relief, they made it across, and at the last minute, Hermione remembered her jars of bluebell flame and had them whizzing toward her.
Once again gold writing appeared. Choose, it read, with arrows pointing to the left and right. Unhesitating, Professor Snape chose the path to the right, and they began to walk.
Hermione pursed her lips to keep from talking, choosing her own counsel instead of seeking his. His expression was thunderous, and she knew talking would only make him snap at her. The man had literally given her his last breath to see to it she survived. He must've deduced this was what was required for them to continue, and she shouldn't read more into it than that. But he could've let her die and not put himself at such a risk.
The Professor Snape she'd thought she'd previously known would've done just that.
But he hadn't even hesitated before placing her safety above his own.
Golden letters appeared before them that read, Loyalty or Betrayal. Either will do.
"I think it's safe to say we are going to be tested by each of the four founders' traits." Right as Professor Snape said it, a goblet appeared that looked remarkably like the goblet of Helga Hufflepuff.
Drink, the words read, and they glowed gold then bronze, then red, then began to turn black. The sound of the angry swarm grew louder. Hermione grabbed the goblet and tossed its contents back, swallowing.
"Miss Granger!"
The goblet was yanked from her hand, and she watched as Professor Snape sniffed its contents and then rimmed the cup with one long finger before rubbing the liquid between his finger and thumb, smelling, and then tasting it.
"Bella donna, wormwood, cloves, cinnamon." He seemed to be talking to himself. "Bittersweet, Monkshood. Shrivel fig." He looked at her and said acidly, "You little idiot. It's a derivative of Draught of the Living Death."
"I'm not an idiot," she insisted. "Again, I'm applying ruthless logic, sir. The contents of the goblet had to be ingested or else…" she gestured to the noise behind them which, thankfully, wasn't growing any louder. "I'm expendable. It's better I die than you as, of the two of us, you have the best chance of getting through this place alive and recapturing Slytherin."
"How very noble of you, Miss Granger—" he said disgusted and kept lecturing, but Hermione began to feel a tingling in her limbs that quickly spread throughout her body until she felt it all over. She closed her eyes and breathed deep, turning her focus inward.
"Open your eyes," he demanded, taking her chin in hand. Hermione met his onyx stare, feeling light-headed.
He grabbed for her wrist and began counting under his breath, and she realized he was taking her pulse as well as reading her thoughts. Her pulse and respiration were fine, but she began to feel… well, lighter.
In fact, she was beginning to feel lighter than air.
No longer sensing the pressure of his fingers, she looked down. Professor Snape was holding her, but her skin was now translucent, almost as if she were a ghost. And yet, she still had the healthy coloring of one still living. In fact, she glowed.
But as she watched, her skin started to atomize. It was as if she'd been sprayed through a perfume bottle and little droplets of herself coalesced to form the approximate shape of her, but her body wasn't there; she was no longer solid. Professor Snape closed his fingers around her hand, and her atoms displaced. She lifted her arm, and they reformed again.
Proceed, the golden letters read.
"What are you feeling?" he asked.
Biting her lip, she looked up at him and said, "Disembodied? Ethereal? It's strange. I feel almost as if I'm floating, but I can walk… I just feel… lighter than air." And she began to walk, her form moving cloud-like beside him.
Hermione strained her ears to make certain, but the droning of the hornets didn't seem to be drawing any nearer, and Professor Snape chose this moment to give her a blistering harangue. "If we get out of this, so help me, Miss Granger, I'm going to see to it you're put under lock and key. And when you return to Hogwarts, you'll only be allowed to attend class, go to the Great Hall for meals, and visit the library."
She smiled and looked up at him. "That actually sounds like paradise, professor. It'll give me something to look forward to once we leave this place."
He narrowed his eyes. "Clearly, I'll have to think of another punishment for you—"
"Cauldron scrubbing? Collecting flobberworm mucus? Detention with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest?" She grinned fully. "You know, compared to the year I've had, it all sounds perfectly fine to me. And I could use a bit of fine, no matter whether you choose to label it a 'punishment' or not." A movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention, and she stopped walking, nodding, "Professor, look."
There before them was a woman only a little older than Hermione—a beautiful woman who was the silver tinge of a ghost. But even as she watched, the woman gained substance, her hair becoming the color of an auburn sunset with eyes the deepest green. And much like Hermione, the woman was ethereal, glowing.
But unlike her, she was dressed in a yellow sundress, her hair braided to fall beguilingly off one shoulder. And after briefly envying her for her clothes, Hermione had the niggling suspicion she'd seen the woman somewhere before…
Looking over, she found Professor Snape had stopped, arrested, his pallor ghost-white, and his expression devastated.
He swallowed thickly, choking out, "L—Lily."
The woman smiled and nodded. "It's me, Sev. It's really me—"
"How…?" he asked, his tone one-part hope, two parts disbelief.
And Hermione's breath caught at watching Professor Snape's usually mono-expressive features morph from disbelief, to hope, to deepest remorse, to relief, and then embarrassment at being found so naked and exposed. And finally, it settled with love, absolute adoration and love.
The woman's eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled. "The Chamber of Secrets is a place within places without space and time." She looked around. "Here, there is neither a beginning, nor end, and within this place, dreams can magically manifest into reality. Your fondest wish and deepest desire brought me here from across the veil, Severus."
His stricken expression quickly morphed to one of doubt. "Prove you are her," he said lowly.
A copper eyebrow rose as she grinned. "Ask me a question only I would know."
He waited a moment, then said "What was the first muggle film you and I saw together?"
She did not hesitate before saying, "It was during the summer of our twelfth year. The Exorcist was playing at the Fairmount. We snuck in and sat through two hours of absolute terror. And when the girl threw up pea soup, it almost—"
"—almost caused you to vomit as well." His expression, though amused, was still skeptical. He sobered and asked, "What were the last words you ever said to me?"
Her expression sad, she said, "I told you that you'd 'You'd be better off without me'. That 'if this was the path you wanted to take, you'd be better off'."
He nodded, and Hermione watched him swallow thickly; "You're really her?" he asked, and the look he gave her stopped Hermione's heart. It was filled with so much love.
Lily nodded and smiled. "Yes, Sev, I am."
He took a step towards her. "Lily, I'm sorry. My, God! I never meant to— There's nothing I can say to ever make up for—"
She shook her head. "Hush, Severus. Enough. You've more than paid any debt you owed. And I must thank you." She reached to hug him, and Hermione's eyebrows rose as she watched her very standoffish professor gather the woman in his arms, hugging her back desperately.
"Thank you!" she said. "Thank you so much for all you've done for him and for me. God knows you've raked yourself over the coals and gone through years of hell. But you've accomplished what you've set out to do, and my son is safe from Riddle." She drew back and smiled ironically. "Now all you have left to do is complete Salazar Slytherin's quest, and you'll be free." She gave him a pointed look. "And you are free. Do you hear me, Severus? Once this trial with Slytherin is over, you'll be free to go and enjoy your life."
"With you in it?" he asked his expression hopeful.
She smiled, and it was beautiful. "As your friend, forever and always, Severus." She continued, "I'll walk through hell with you, be right here at your side as we figure out a way to get out of this mess." Lily looked around and then looked down at her hand and snapped her fingers together. They made a sound, and she grinned.
Her expression grew reluctant. "But my presence here is not without a cost."
She looked over at Hermione and said, "You've chosen to sacrifice your life for his in unhesitatingly drinking the potion. Your courage and loyalty have been proven."
Addressing Professor Snape, Lily continued, "Your loyalty has yet to be proved, and so, you'll be given a choice:" Again, Lily looked to Hermione before meeting Professor Snape's eyes and saying, 'you can trade her life for mine."
Her eyes widening in shock, Hermione looked between the two, her heart beginning to gallop.
Professor Snape, however, only had eyes for his beloved.
"Should you choose me," she continued, explaining, "I'll go with you. I'd be able to live again, Severus. I could hug my son, attend his wedding, see him raise a family, and hold my grandchildren." Hermione could hear the longing in her voice.
"And Miss Granger?" he asked breathlessly.
She looked at Hermione and said, "You would take my place across the veil. You've chosen to sacrifice yourself, and you could move on without a second's thought, straight from here, past judgement, to paradise." There was no mistake—her tone definitely held a note of coaxing.
Hermione gulped; her eyes flying to Professor Snape's, and she paled when she realized he was actually contemplating what Lily said. Even as Hermione had the thought, she felt herself beginning to fade, her atomized particles losing even more mass until she was only a pale rendering of herself. Meanwhile, the figure of Lily grew more defined by the second. And Hermione held up a hand and watched as it began to turn gray.
No.
Oh, no.
Professor Snape still had eyes only for the beautiful woman in front of him.
And looking down, Hermione realized her own form was now silver-tinged translucence. She snapped her fingers, and a muted 'thump' was the only sound she heard. Her atomized particles were beginning to coalesce, and she had a feeling once they did, she was going to be every bit the ghost this woman used to be.
Hermione asked uncertainly, "Professor?"
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With a start, Professor Snape turned around to face her, guilt warring with shame. "Miss Granger—" he led, closing his eyes. And she watched as he took a deep breath and turned back to face Lily.
Hermione instantly felt her form begin to grow more substantial, each second bringing with it a feeling of life, of color. Meanwhile, the figure of Lily began to fade until she was the silver tinge of a ghost once more.
"I'll take your place, Lily," Professor Snape begged, and Hermione saw he meant it, he utterly meant it.
Lily shook her head, tears falling from her eyes. "The terms of this challenge are set. Your life cannot be bartered against, only hers. Besides," she smiled blearily, "you wouldn't be you, Severus Snape, if you chose me over her. And I wouldn't want you for a friend if you did." She stuck out her tongue at him.
Her expression sobering, she swallowed thickly and continued, "I want to let you know how incredibly proud I am to call you my friend. I was wrong about you, Sev, all those years ago. So terribly wrong. You're the bravest and most honorable man I know, and when your work on Earth is through, we'll see one another again in Paradise.
"But you've got to finish what you've set out to do." She looked around, "And once you get out of here, you deserve to live the life you were meant to live before Voldemort." She gave him a pointed look. "And that includes finding someone to love who is free to love you in return. Don't use me as a reason any longer. Do you swear it?"
The droning of the wasps and hornets began to grow louder behind them.
"Swear it, Severus!" she insisted. "Time's running out!"
His throat working, Professor Snape said gruffly, "I swear it, Lily."
"And swear that you'll find someone to love," she led.
His expression doubtful, he said nonetheless, "I will. I swear it."
"There," she said smiling, "you've taken a vow, and I'll hold you to it when I see you again." So saying, she gave his cheek a cool kiss and disappeared.
Right as she did so, Hermione felt her body 'pop' back into existence as she gained both mass and substance. And testing her weight on the ball of each foot, she smiled, thankful she was able to feel the cool grass between her toes again.
She looked up to find Professor Snape had his eyes closed, breathing deep.
Hermione turned her back to give him as much privacy as she could. What she'd seen had been so personal. He'd been so raw and vulnerable just now, and he was probably HATING she'd been there to witness it. He'd been in love… not just infatuation, but LOVE. Professor Snape, the black bat of the dungeons, had loved—still loved— this woman fiercely! He'd loved Lily—in both her life and death. And he'd been carrying around her memory for all these years; his fondest wish being that of talking with her again.
And his love for her had been unrequited. Pity for him swelled within her at that moment.
And why had she looked so familiar?
It wasn't so much her expression, but her manner and maybe her eyes… Her name was Lily… Hermione's eyes widened, and she silently gasped. Her eyes were Harry's! Harry really did have his mother's eyes. She was Harry's mum!
Professor Snape had been in love with Lily Potter!
Oh, holy hell!
Her mind spun. Of course, he'd known her in school. They were the same age, and it made sense as Remus, Sirius, James, and Pettigrew were in the same graduating class as Professor Snape. Harry's mum would've been there too!
She mentally replayed the conversation, paying close attention to Lily's references of Professor Snape and their childhood. They'd spent the summer of their twelfth year together which meant they were close once, perhaps the best of friends. And then when Lily had made reference to Professor Snape protecting Harry, and how he'd kept Harry safe until Voldemort's defeat…
Again, her thoughts spun, making connections.
Professor Snape hated Harry because of his father. This was a known fact. But he'd loved Harry's mother romantically, and Harry's mother had treated him as just a friend. And then she dated and married James Potter—Professor Snape's sworn enemy.
Still, on he had loved her, and Lily had been Professor Snape's reason then, his reason for turning away from Voldemort.
Lord Voldemort had killed his beloved, and Professor Snape had taken a vow to protect her son and avenge her death. And like Dante with his Beatrice, Professor Snape had felt such a love for Harry's mum that it carried him through years of hell and torment.
She heard a throat clear, and then Professor Snape said from behind her, "Miss Granger, have you recovered?" His voice was steady, not betraying a single note of the emotion she was sure he must even now be feeling.
"I'm recovered, sir," she said softly, still facing away from him, wishing she could say more… perhaps apologize for the choice he'd had to make in choosing her over the love of his life. Christ! To unexpectedly see one's beloved who'd died horribly, and then to have to choose between giving her back her life or condemning his former, most loathed student to death….
She remembered the look of longing, of hope, of yearning in his eyes. And the look of heartbreak when he realized the cost.
Hermione's heart broke for him then.
Perhaps she should've tried to persuade him to accept the exchange? After all, she'd chosen to drink the potion. And Harry could've been with his mum again. She'd obliviated her parents' memories of her, and other than her friends, there would be no one else who would miss her.
She stopped herself, willing back the negative thoughts. This last year had been fraught with double-questioning and self-doubt. And wearing that damned locket for so many hours a day… well, thoughts of suicide were not uncommon.
And Lily had made it seem… had made it sound like there was something much better waiting for her on the other side… perhaps she should've tried to convince him.
"Miss Granger, you will stop thinking those thoughts at once."
She blinked, realizing a moment too late she'd been staring off into space, and Professor Snape had taken full advantage. "Occlusion, Miss Granger. You should practice it. Your thoughts are practically screaming at me." He scowled and continued tightly, "Yes, that was Potter's mother, and yes, I care very deeply for her." His jaw hardened as he looked away. "And now that you know what you know, I'll trust you to keep the knowledge to yourself."
"I swear it, sir," she said softly. "I'll never reveal what I know to anyone."
Turning his head, he studied her, his eyes piercing hers. And Hermione didn't even try to hide her thoughts from him. A few seconds passed, and she felt him gently leave her mind. His stiff posture relaxed just slightly as he said, "Very well. Let's go." And not waiting to see if she followed, he led them onward.
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Hermione was lulled into a gentle stupor by the distant droning of the bees behind them as they continued to walk. The buzzing still sounded far off, and that was a comfort, but how long had they been down here? It felt like more than several hours had passed.
Her stomach growled mournfully. But with long-accustomed practice, Hermione ignored its gurgling protest, saying instead, "Do you think wit or cunning comes next?"
Professor Snape turned around to look at her, a single eyebrow raised.
"You said it yourself, Salazar Slytherin is testing for traits of the founders. Our bravery was tested through sacrifice, your loyalty was tested through temptation. I think the next trial will be one of wit. Slytherin would save his for last, considering it to be 'the best'."
"How right you are, Miss Granger."
Hermione spun around and saw the figure of Professor Snape, the Professor Snape of her past clad in his buttoned up and billowing black robes, come to loom before her. Looking between the actual Professor Snape standing surprised and naked behind her and the Severus Snape in front of her dressed in black, she felt extremely unsettled.
"Little know-it-all. You think you're so clever," the black-clad professor said, leaning in to get in her face. "You think you're bloody brilliant, don't you? Well, figure this out, Miss Granger, and you both walk free. Don't and your professor loses his life."
She gulped and looked behind her at Professor Snape, seeking guidance. His expression was blank. He was occluding, but he held out two fingers and flashed them twice. And then he did it again.
"But this won't do at all," black clad Professor Snape said, and with a snap, she was being blindfolded and spun around. "Now, you get a single question to figure out which of us is your real professor."
The blindfold dropped from her eyes, and Hermione saw two identical forms of Professor Snape standing nude before her. Meanwhile, the sound of the wasps and hornets grew to its loudest pitch yet.
Her eyes grew wide as she tried to find something, anything that was different between the two of them. Everything about them from their dark black eyes and stringy hair to their torsos and their—well, their all of them. Everything was identical.
"Miss Granger, ask me a question only I would know," offered Professor Snape standing to her left. His tone had been very calm, almost disinterested.
"Yes, Miss Granger," the other echoed dispassionately, "ask."
She took a moment to gather her composure and her thoughts, breathing deep. Exhaling on 'whoosh', she said, "Alright, at the beginning of my first year… the very first Quidditch game was Gryffindor against Slytherin. It was eventful. Can you tell me why?"
"Potter played and nearly killed himself in the process. Without my assistance he would've died," the Professor Snape to her right said, his tone bored. "Slytherin lost for the first time in seven years."
The Professor Snape to her left flashed her two fingers twice and said, "I saved Potter from dying from Quirrell's jinxed broom, and in the process my robes caught fire. Potter caught the snitch in his mouth."
Without hesitation, she said, "You're the imposter," and pointed to the one on her right. Both she and the real Professor Snape watched as the imposter faded to smoke and was gone.
Hermione grinned and walked over to him. Meeting his stare, she leaned in and confessed, "You know, it was me that set your robes on fire, sir." She winced. "I didn't know you were performing the counter-jinx."
His eyes flared in surprise, then anger. She threw up her hands in defense. "I thought you were trying to kill him. Can you blame me?"
His expression soured. "Had I wanted to kill Potter, Miss Granger, I would've been far more subtle than a cursed broomstick."
"Yes," she nodded as she began once more to walk with him, "I know that now, and I'm certain it never would've been questioned as being anything but accidental. And, of course, it would have to be particularly vicious and poetically apt."
He gave her a side-long glance. "It seems you are well-versed on the subject. Tell me, in your year on the run, living in the tent with Potter, did you ever—"
"Entertain thoughts of murdering him in his sleep?" she asked, smiling wryly, her cheeks dimpling. "A few. But it was mostly Ron I wanted to kill."
He snorted. "I thought Weasley and you…" he gestured to the air.
She shook her head, her expression a moue of distaste. "No. Just… no. Ron and I aren't together, and we'll never be together. He's my friend, and that's where he'll remain."
He mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, 'poor bastard' but said aloud, "I believe a measure of praise is worth noting in the trial just passed." His eyes met hers, and he smirked. "Not bad, Miss Granger."
Hermione took a step back, aghast. "A genuine complement, sir? I believe that's the first and only one you've ever given me in the seven years we've known one another."
He gestured they should continue walking, this time around a bend in the path. "Don't let it go to your head, as swollen as it already is—"
"And there it is," she said, interrupting him. "For a moment there I'd thought we'd reached an understanding of my intellige—Oh, holy SHITE! Professor!" she ended on a gasp, taking a giant step back straight into Professor Snape's arms as he quickly thrust her behind him.
A hornet the size of a small lory hovered just ahead with its back turned to them, and there was a thick copse of trees to either side of the trail so they couldn't step around it. With the wasps and hornets bearing down on them from behind, and the wasp in front of them, they were trapped. And they were so close to the thing Hermione could feel the wind coming off its translucent, leathery wings.
Gold letters appeared above it, saying: in bravery, loyalty, and intellect you're true. Now one more test shall you do.
Hermione snorted and remarked sotto voce, "That was weak."
"Quiet!" Professor Snape hissed, shooting her an acid look.
She took a mental step back. That was an inner thought, and she'd been compelled to voice it. It hadn't been a conscious choice. The buzzing of the wasps and hornets grew even louder behind them.
"Professor, I think this challenge is new. The wasps coming for us number more than a few." She looked up at him curiously. "I'm being compelled to rhyme on cue."
His eye narrowed. "You say rhyming on cue? What's wrong with you?"
"Wait," she asked, her eyes going wide, "are you doing it too?"
He looked at her and whispered fiercely, "What did you do?"
She winced. "Gave you something on which to stew?"
Scowling, he said disgusted, "Slytherin's humor no bounds knew." The swarm was drawing closer. Another thirty seconds or so, and it would be right on them. Professor Snape nodded to the wasp in front of them and said, "Better to deal with one of the few than let the hoard overtake you."
"What would you like us to do, sir—" she tried to bite the word back right as the wasp turned its head towards them. Its wings began beating faster as it began to buzz.
He gave her a pointed glare. "I've got to work with you, and together we'll get ourselves through." The humming of the wasp grew calmer the more he talked. The head, however, remained turned, and Hermione could only imagine that one or two more slips would find the wasp looking straight at them.
Professor Snape continued, "Do you still have your flames following you?"
In answer, Hermione closed her eyes, and crooking a finger, wandlessly accio'd them to her side.
"Keep them close to you at all times—" Professor Snape closed his eyes, clearly disgusted with himself while the buzzing of the wasp in front of them grew to its loudest pitch yet, its leathery wings fanning faster as the thing turned its head still more towards them.
"Of course, I'll do as you tell me to," Hermione broke in hurriedly. "You need only ask, and I'll do." The buzzing grew softer as she continued to speak. "And this is how the game of rhyming grew in order to pacify one of the few." She nodded to the wasp in front of them. "Do you think when Slytherin thought this through, he thought he was being 'cunning' too?" she ended wryly and nodded she understood when he signaled they should attempt to walk around it in the opposite direction of its turned head.
"Oh," Professor Snape countered, plotting out their course. "I think a sense of humor he drew, compelling his guests to rhyme on cue." The humming grew softer still, and the wasp's wings slowed down a bit.
Its body almost blocked the path entirely, and as it was, it was going to take a fair bit of contortion from the both of them to get around all the while still continuing to rhyme to pacify it. For, like smoke with bees, apparently Salazar Slytherin's wasps liked a bit of hackneyed poetry.
Professor Snape gestured they should begin, and she should step exactly where he did.
As she watched him bend down to avoid a hairy, razor-sharp leg, a corner of her mouth tilted upward as she said, "Would you wish you were a friend he knew if this he put you through? And wow, I sound like Yoda, I do. Know Star Wars, do you?"
He said drolly as he looked back at her, "There is no 'try', there is only 'do'."
She grinned fully. "I'm very impressed with you. It is taking a bit of brain power to do… my brain cells are working—"
"Both one and two?" he interjected, a single eyebrow raised as he held out his hand for her to grab on to. Holding her breath, Hermione gripped his hand and ducking under the wings, stepped sideways around the stinger that was the size of a beater bat ending with a hypodermic sting. God, all they needed was for one of them to mess up, and for the thing to turn.
She would be impelled.
Stepping carefully, she ducked under its thorax, and she rejoined as she let his hand go, "This does seem a bit challenging for you. Can't think of anything better to do than to insult one of the educated few?"
He countered her smirk with a wry smile of his own and said, "Yes, a wordsmythe and poet are you, 'one of the educated few'. And if that head of yours any more grew, we'd be able to climb it like a giant Yew." He gestured above them at the thing's antenna which dangled inches above his ducked head. He shot her a pointed look and gestured behind them. "Now, let's finish what we set out to do before time runs out, and we are screwed."
Hermione smothered a laugh and said, "Well, minus the comment about the Yew, all of that is very true. And as 'one of the educated few', I hereby induct you too."
Another step and he held out his hand for her once again. She took it and ducked under the wasp's dangling leg, and then they were both in the clear.
Not waiting a moment, Professor Snape drew her in his arms and said lowly in her ear, "Do not let go whatever you do and remember to keep your flames close to you."
She nodded and clung tightly to his side as he began to fly them through the forest darting silently away from the wasp with her bluebell flames trailing along behind them.
Golden writing appeared just ahead.
You've passed the test; your hearts are true. Now, there's only one thing left to do… run.
The buzzing grew to a fever pitch, and Hermione's eyes widened as she looked behind them. Her heart stopped.
It was a storm, an angry tidal wave of hornets and wasps coming straight for them. And the wasp they'd just side-stepped was leading the way and closing in fast.
"Keep your flames behind us!" Professor Snape ordered as he shot them forward, flying blisteringly fast. The noise was deafening, and as fast as he flew them, the wind stole her breath.
"Where are we going?" she yelled over the wind and buzzing.
He adjusted her position in his arms until she was pressed up against him, almost chest to chest, one of his arms holding her, the other cradling her head. He leaned forward and said directly in her ear, "Think of the Inferno. What did Dante do to access the next gate?"
Hermione closed her eyes to block everything out as she remembered. "He errm… he heard the screams of the damned and fainted." But something in her mind niggled, something about hearing the screams… Hermione's eyes widened, and she drew back, lifting her lips until they were at the shell of his ear. "Professor, listen! Do you hear that?"
He drew back and looked at her uncomprehending.
She leaned forward and said, 'Under the buzzing, sir, there's a sound like—"
He suddenly stopped flying them, and they hovered as he turned them around. "Screaming," he said, and as one, they took in the sight of the swarm of hornets and wasps descending on them. Some were as big as mountain trolls. And for every one that was larger, there had to be hundreds upon thousands of smaller ones.
Hermione paled and drew even closer to Professor Snape.
He held her tighter as he looked down at her. "Feeling faint yet, Miss Granger?"
She gave him a weak smile and asked. "If this is another test, what's the next step? I mean we can't have them overtake us. That way lay damnation." She bit her lip, but then her eyes widened. "But what if we did? This level is meant to test our conviction. Bravery, loyalty, wit, and cunning. Conviction's a decision that takes all four. And remember, the goal of the swarm is to chase us, keep us running." She looked up at him. "But once we stop running and choose to stand firm in our belief…."
"That's a hell of a gamble, Miss Granger," Professor Snape muttered lowly in her ear.
Hermione shivered in his arms and drew closer, looking up at him. "Our alternative is to be chased unto death, professor."
He shot her a dry look. "Very well. If we die and die horribly, girl, it's all your fault."
She tilted her head and smirked. "Who says we'll be able to die. This is hell, remember? And hell is—"
"Repetition. Come on, 'one of the educated few', let's meet our deaths as foolishly as any Gryffindor, as obtusely as any Hufflepuff, using witlessness equal to that of any Ravenclaw, and the skewed cunning of Salazar Slytherin himself. Leave your flames behind for now. We are surrendering."
With a gesture, Hermione sent them winging away, and he clutched her tighter to him. She clung even more so as they began to fly towards the swarm. The sheer terror that now faced them had her arsehole puckering. But, at least, she wouldn't be alone. If they were to get stung hundreds upon thousands of times, at least she wouldn't be alone.
The wall of hornets and wasps bared down upon them, and even now, there were those that had flown faster than the rest. They began brushing past, some beginning to light on her person, landing in her hair. Hermione cringed as, within seconds, the trickling few became a great many as the swarm engulfed them.
And Hermione held her breath, waiting at any moment to feel a thousand stings.
The sounds of screaming grew, and the temperature around them began to rise. She could feel the wasps and hornets pinging off every part of her that was exposed—which was nearly everything—elbows and knees, arms, arse, and legs.
Her hair crawled.
Thus far, she hadn't been stung once. But even if she wasn't being stung, this was a previously unimagined hell! And she knew if she survived this ordeal, this little trial was going to feature prominently in her nightmares.
Hermione watched the first of the bigger wasps turn and fly straight towards them. However, instead of running away, Professor Snape flew them towards it.
Its yellow and black body bowed backward, ready to strike.
Professor Snape turned her in his arms until she was being held by him completely, her breast pressed fully against his chest, not an inch separating them from chest to naval to below as he urged her to turn her head into his neck and keep her mouth closed.
Her eyes met his, and she saw they were centermost calm. And she could tell he wasn't even occluding.
How the hell?
He drew her head closer and said above the noise, "I take it as a good sign we haven't been stung yet." She nodded and watched as another giant insect—this one a hornet— flew towards them, its red, black, and yellow body buzzing angrily as it began to charge.
Professor Snape didn't hesitate; he flew them straight towards it.
At the last possible moment, the hornet turned and buzzed away, its hairy legs brushing past Hermione's shoulder, its stinger scoring Professor Snape's arm, leaving a small, ruby-red trail of blood.
He flew them on, navigating them through, and Hermione saw he was heading straight into the center of the swarm where the temperature grew from uncomfortable to intolerable.
The further they flew, both his body and hers grew slick with sweat, and he had to juggle to keep her held to him.
"Wrap your legs around my waist," he ordered in her ear, and she nodded as he lifted her by her arse. Her mind registered this new position as surreal as she spread her legs to straddle her professor's waist and interlock her ankles behind him. However, she was too overwhelmed to feel self-conscious. There was now a cluster of wasps and hornets perching on the back of his neck and hers, and all along their sides where they weren't pressed together.
OH, HOLY SHITE!
He pressed her tighter to him so that nothing whatsoever could come between them, and she buried her head in the curve of his neck. "Stay calm, Miss Granger," he said steadily in her ear. "Stay completely calm and still."
Pursing her lips, she nodded and closed her eyes. Soon, she felt one, then two, then a small hoard begin to land on the side of her exposed head, buzzing near her ear.
He flew them on further, and the screams of the damned grew deafening. She focused on her professor's clean scent trying to place it, instead of the other smell— the smell of the swarm which was a smell like rotten fish.
She never realized he wore cologne before, but the smell was a smell she would recognize anywhere—juniper, cedar, and the tart note of bittersweet. Masculine without being too musky. She breathed deep, feeling her professor's pulse beneath her lips.
Even his heartbeat was calm.
There was a wasp right near her ear, and she prayed to God it stayed outside of it. After all, wasps burrowed inside their victims' skulls and laid their eggs inside their eyes. And Hermione didn't think she could handle it if one went inside her ear. Nope, she didn't think she could.
"Breathe," he urged her softly.
Again, she nodded and did as he said, breathing through her nose as slowly and deeply as she could of her professor's scent.
On, he flew them, and the darkness was now all-encompassing. Every single inch around her moved. Little wings trapped, buzzing angrily in her hair, hundreds of wasps and hornets landing on them, covering them.
Oh, this was hell! A never-before imagined hell! Seconds passed like minutes. Time seemed to stop, and they could have stayed there for hours. She didn't know, but she focused on what she could feel besides the insects upon her.
Professor Snape's body was hard, deceptively so. He was all wiry muscle, taut and straining, with not a spare ounce of flesh. His hips were narrow, and she could easily wrap her legs around them. His chest hair tickled her naval, or perhaps it was a hornet that made its way between them—Don't think about it! she urged herself.
Her lower half was completely pressed against his stomach, and she could feel the hair of his pubis tickle her bum… or perhaps it was a swarm of wasps?
She breathed and concentrated on the sound of his heartbeat right below her ear, focusing on the rhythmic 'kerthunk, kerthump' as its pulse beat a slow and steady rhythm.
Some time passed; she wasn't sure how much. And then Professor Snape nudged her with his shoulder, and Hermione opened her eyes and looked up.
In the darkness, gold writing appeared before them, reading:
You've done very well so far, but I'm afraid it only gets harder from here.
She couldn't help it, she laughed, the sound close to hysterical, feeling light-headed with relief as the wasp near her ear flew away.
You may proceed, a voice hissed from all around them, and the deafening noise of screams immediately ceased as she felt the wriggling weight of the hornets and wasps fly away from her body and hair. And looking at the dispersing swarm, Hermione breathed a relieved sigh, feeling the tension in Professor Snape's body lessen as well.
A plain wooden door at the base of a large oak tree appeared from nothing, and Professor Snape landed them near it.
.
.
.
A/N: You know, my favorite romance novel plot is one involving my protagonists versus the world. I love putting them in isolation where they have to work together to accomplish a mutual goal, learning about one another along the way. And what better way than to put them through hell? *bwahaha*
Now ask yourself: who would you want walking naked beside you as you journey through hell?
Me? Severus Snape every time.
Please let me know what you think, leave a review. The gods will smile upon you… And that was mean of Salazar Slytherin to do… making the two of them rhyme on cue.
And now this author's note is through.
Toodle loo,
—K
