A/N: Wow, it's been a while since I updated! Once again, so sorry, but I
had to make my A in Calculus! Do you forgive me? You can tell me so by
reviewing. and do expect more updates, especially after Christmas, because
it's not like I have anything else to do.
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Severus could physically feel the evil as they trudged toward Romania. Tatoya knew as well--in her unguarded moments he could catch an expression of fear mingled with resignation on her withered face. The rest of the Kumpania--even Hermione--seemed oblivious to the raw, malevolent power they were approaching.
The Dark Mark burned more intensely with every step he took. Severus had taken to biting his lip during bursts of blinding agony, remaining stony- faced whenever Hermione asked him if something was wrong. Once he had clamped down on his tongue until the coppery taste of his own blood filled his mouth. He had been treating Hermione civilly throughout the first months of their "marriage," but now he took his frustration out on her, as he had taken it out on her and other students during her days at Hogwarts. Severus had never been a pleasant person, but the tension produced by Voldemort's interference in his life--if it could be called a life--made him unbearable.
After he realized that the nightmare had not ended with what everyone believed to be the final battle, all of Severus' old doubts and self- reprimands resurfaced. How could he have allowed Hermione to safe his life by endangering her own in such a fashion? He should have predicted Voldemort's return and prevented this from happening. He should have died on the gallows like the worthless scoundrel he was.
~~
Hermione knew something was wrong with Severus--something he wasn't telling her. It was as if suddenly he found her to be the annoying know-it-all again, and treated her as such. Whenever she tried to have an open, honest conversation with him, he dodged her in any way he could. If she pressed too hard, he'd storm out of their room for a "walk."
Severus had been taking more and more "walks" lately. Often he would be gone the entire night, leaving Hermione alone to huddle beneath the blankets and wonder where he was. Her nights were spent worrying--worrying over a man who by all indications was disgusted by her. Never in her wildest dreams would Hermione have imagined she'd be lonely because Severus wasn't there. Never would she have believed how cold their bed was without him in it.
Occasionally, she would catch him in a moment where expressions of intense pain dominated his features. Such moments always ended quickly, and he'd glare at her as though she had no right to witness his weakness. But they were also occurring more frequently, and although she hadn't consciously noticed his left hand's frequent attentions to his right forearm, Hermione was beginning to sense evil in the future. Even if she didn't realize it yet, her subconscious was beginning to whisper of the Dark Lord's return.
~~
Roux's spirits picked up as they neared Romania. Not only was he returning to his own birthplace, but Hermione and her pathetic husband weren't getting along nearly as well as before.
Something was different in the atmosphere as they approached their destination--he could feel the air around him humming with some alien presence. But he welcomed the change, because it was power that he felt. The power seemed to recognize his plight and sympathize with him, lulling him into a sense of safety as long as he was in this place, with the reassuring and forceful vibrations with him always. As Roux neared home, he could feel the power growing, flowing through him and making him feel better than he had in months. The countryside rang with promise, even though it was deathly still instead of teeming with life. It promised him everything he could imagine. It promised him that everything he ever wanted would be his.
It promised him Hermione.
~~
Albus had given up all hopes of discovering Severus in Rome. In the surrounding areas the trail was cold, and any clues he did find were questionable at best. Powerful though he was, Albus knew when he had been defeated. It was time to give up.
Combing the city for an owl, Albus finally found a wizarding post office and quickly scrawled a note to Minerva in uncharacteristically messy handwriting. His fingers shook as he wrote the words he knew he would never be able to say without tears springing to his eyes.
"Minerva," he wrote, "I have been unsuccessful in my search. I accept now that Severus is dead. I will be returning home shortly, so expect my return within the week."
Albus couldn't fully explain the way his heart sank as he watched the obedient brown owl speeding away to Hogwarts, whose halls would never again be stalked by a certain potions master with dark, billowing robes.
~~
Severus was sitting in Tatoya's tent in the Gypsy encampment, sipping some of her steaming, freshly brewed tea. He was learning to take comfort in the old woman, much as he had in Albus Dumbledore. He tried not to think of the Headmaster any longer--it only made his estrangement from Hogwarts more intense and painful. But he couldn't help noticing the similarities between Tatoya and the crazy old wizard--both had an uncanny knack for predicting the future, and for reading the minds of others.
"You are still worried, Raven-hair?" Tatoya grinned sympathetically. He nodded, knowing it would be pointless to deny it. "Don't," she commanded. "No amount of worrying will free you from this. It is up to you now, but do not be afraid. You will survive because you are strong--and because she is strong."
Severus knew better than to ask who "she" was.
That didn't change his inexplicable inability to speak to her. He found himself avoiding her more often than ever, and Roux was beginning to notice with ill-concealed delight. Even though it pained him to treat Hermione poorly after she had placed trust in him, he couldn't bring himself to continue the charade of being a good man. She deserved better. But that didn't eradicate the regret Severus felt every time he passed up a good night's sleep in their bed, all for the sake of punishing himself for crimes he had committed long ago.
Unfortunately, Severus had forgotten to take Hermione's Gryffindor straightforwardness into account. He should have known she wouldn't put up with his pre-pubescent avoidance tactics for long--she would confront him before he could carry on much further.
Severus realized his error too late--one night as they were nearing their final destination, Hermione all but dragged Severus into their tent, despite his protestations.
"I will hear none of that, Severus Snape," she hissed furiously. "It's time we had a little talk."
Severus could physically feel the evil as they trudged toward Romania. Tatoya knew as well--in her unguarded moments he could catch an expression of fear mingled with resignation on her withered face. The rest of the Kumpania--even Hermione--seemed oblivious to the raw, malevolent power they were approaching.
The Dark Mark burned more intensely with every step he took. Severus had taken to biting his lip during bursts of blinding agony, remaining stony- faced whenever Hermione asked him if something was wrong. Once he had clamped down on his tongue until the coppery taste of his own blood filled his mouth. He had been treating Hermione civilly throughout the first months of their "marriage," but now he took his frustration out on her, as he had taken it out on her and other students during her days at Hogwarts. Severus had never been a pleasant person, but the tension produced by Voldemort's interference in his life--if it could be called a life--made him unbearable.
After he realized that the nightmare had not ended with what everyone believed to be the final battle, all of Severus' old doubts and self- reprimands resurfaced. How could he have allowed Hermione to safe his life by endangering her own in such a fashion? He should have predicted Voldemort's return and prevented this from happening. He should have died on the gallows like the worthless scoundrel he was.
~~
Hermione knew something was wrong with Severus--something he wasn't telling her. It was as if suddenly he found her to be the annoying know-it-all again, and treated her as such. Whenever she tried to have an open, honest conversation with him, he dodged her in any way he could. If she pressed too hard, he'd storm out of their room for a "walk."
Severus had been taking more and more "walks" lately. Often he would be gone the entire night, leaving Hermione alone to huddle beneath the blankets and wonder where he was. Her nights were spent worrying--worrying over a man who by all indications was disgusted by her. Never in her wildest dreams would Hermione have imagined she'd be lonely because Severus wasn't there. Never would she have believed how cold their bed was without him in it.
Occasionally, she would catch him in a moment where expressions of intense pain dominated his features. Such moments always ended quickly, and he'd glare at her as though she had no right to witness his weakness. But they were also occurring more frequently, and although she hadn't consciously noticed his left hand's frequent attentions to his right forearm, Hermione was beginning to sense evil in the future. Even if she didn't realize it yet, her subconscious was beginning to whisper of the Dark Lord's return.
~~
Roux's spirits picked up as they neared Romania. Not only was he returning to his own birthplace, but Hermione and her pathetic husband weren't getting along nearly as well as before.
Something was different in the atmosphere as they approached their destination--he could feel the air around him humming with some alien presence. But he welcomed the change, because it was power that he felt. The power seemed to recognize his plight and sympathize with him, lulling him into a sense of safety as long as he was in this place, with the reassuring and forceful vibrations with him always. As Roux neared home, he could feel the power growing, flowing through him and making him feel better than he had in months. The countryside rang with promise, even though it was deathly still instead of teeming with life. It promised him everything he could imagine. It promised him that everything he ever wanted would be his.
It promised him Hermione.
~~
Albus had given up all hopes of discovering Severus in Rome. In the surrounding areas the trail was cold, and any clues he did find were questionable at best. Powerful though he was, Albus knew when he had been defeated. It was time to give up.
Combing the city for an owl, Albus finally found a wizarding post office and quickly scrawled a note to Minerva in uncharacteristically messy handwriting. His fingers shook as he wrote the words he knew he would never be able to say without tears springing to his eyes.
"Minerva," he wrote, "I have been unsuccessful in my search. I accept now that Severus is dead. I will be returning home shortly, so expect my return within the week."
Albus couldn't fully explain the way his heart sank as he watched the obedient brown owl speeding away to Hogwarts, whose halls would never again be stalked by a certain potions master with dark, billowing robes.
~~
Severus was sitting in Tatoya's tent in the Gypsy encampment, sipping some of her steaming, freshly brewed tea. He was learning to take comfort in the old woman, much as he had in Albus Dumbledore. He tried not to think of the Headmaster any longer--it only made his estrangement from Hogwarts more intense and painful. But he couldn't help noticing the similarities between Tatoya and the crazy old wizard--both had an uncanny knack for predicting the future, and for reading the minds of others.
"You are still worried, Raven-hair?" Tatoya grinned sympathetically. He nodded, knowing it would be pointless to deny it. "Don't," she commanded. "No amount of worrying will free you from this. It is up to you now, but do not be afraid. You will survive because you are strong--and because she is strong."
Severus knew better than to ask who "she" was.
That didn't change his inexplicable inability to speak to her. He found himself avoiding her more often than ever, and Roux was beginning to notice with ill-concealed delight. Even though it pained him to treat Hermione poorly after she had placed trust in him, he couldn't bring himself to continue the charade of being a good man. She deserved better. But that didn't eradicate the regret Severus felt every time he passed up a good night's sleep in their bed, all for the sake of punishing himself for crimes he had committed long ago.
Unfortunately, Severus had forgotten to take Hermione's Gryffindor straightforwardness into account. He should have known she wouldn't put up with his pre-pubescent avoidance tactics for long--she would confront him before he could carry on much further.
Severus realized his error too late--one night as they were nearing their final destination, Hermione all but dragged Severus into their tent, despite his protestations.
"I will hear none of that, Severus Snape," she hissed furiously. "It's time we had a little talk."