Severus Snape sighed quietly, and pushed the pile of marking away, stifling
a yawn. It wasn't yet seven o'clock, and he had been ordered by Madame
Pomfrey to make sure that Hermione came to dinner this evening. The girl
had been skipping meals for time to work on her research project, ignoring
the fact that he'd given her the entire year. She seemed determined to
finish it before Christmas.
As always when he thought of his apprentice, a soft smile found its way onto his face. Snape was deeply grateful for this chance with her, always on the look-out for the perfect moment to confess his feelings. The trouble was, there was no such thing as a perfect moment, at least not in this school. Still, she had pronounced them friends a few days before, so he seemed to be making some progress.
He glanced at the hourglass, and dragged himself to his feet, stretching his weary muscles. Locking the dungeon rooms and classroom, he made his way upstairs to Hermione's apartment. She let him in with a tired grin.
'I've been ordered to escort you down to dinner,' he informed her with a hint of sarcasm.
Hermione grimaced.
'I don't think I can make it down tonight,' she said, gesturing to the mountains of books and parchment on her desk. 'I've still got a pile of books to wade through, and write up my thesis.'
Snape caught her wrist as she waved her hand helplessly, forcing her to look at him in surprise. He pulled her around to face him, away from her work.
'Hermione, stop pushing yourself so hard,' he said gently, fighting the urge to stroke a stray curl from her eyes. 'You have the whole year to complete this project, don't rush it.'
He stepped closer, unable to stop himself. Hermione suppressed a shiver as he brushed her hair from her eyes, leaving his fingers to rest on her cheek.
'Don't neglect yourself,' he murmured silkily, his black eyes burning into hers. 'You must always come first, before work.'
Mesmerised by his tenderness, Hermione gazed up at him, her arms itching to wrap around him and pull him closer.
'Why do you care so much?' she whispered, stepping slightly closer. She could almost feel his breath on her cheeks.
Snape felt his heart slam violently. This was it, this was his chance.
Tell her, Severus, he could almost hear Dumbledore saying. Tell her the truth.
'Because . . .' he hesitated, afraid of what she might say or do.
Hermione watched a myriad of emotions flash across his face, and suddenly knew he was trying to tell her what she had known all along. She wondered if she should make it easier for him, since he was obviously finding expressing himself in this instance painfully hard. Slowly she lifted a hand to cup his jaw, feeling him tense beneath her touch. His eyes never leaving hers, he relaxed somewhat hesitantly, reluctantly allowing himself to enjoy the sensation of being touched again.
Suddenly there was a fearful yowl, and a huge ball of ginger fur and claws leapt between them, forcing the Potions Master back. Snape looked down at Crookshanks with surprise, quickly changing to chagrin. He'd been forced to back down by a cat.
Hermione jumped, fighting down the urge to laugh at the sight of Crookshanks trying to outstare Snape. She scooped him up, scolding the fur ball quietly, and deposited him on the bed, inwardly furious that he'd chosen that moment to get jealous. When she returned, Snape had composed himself, extending a hand to take hers.
'Allow me to take you down to dinner, Hermione,' he said smoothly, as if nothing untoward had happened.
Hermione forced herself to smile, despite the raging disappointment, slipping a hand into his.
'Thank you, Severus.'
*~*~*
Dumbledore watched from the doorway as Hermione helped a terrified third- year finish his detention in good time. Snape was nowhere to be seen, a sure sign that he was nearby. The boy heaved a sigh of relief as he deposited the last of the screw worms in a jar, grinning up at Hermione's disgusted expression.
'I guess we're all done,' she told him, returning the grin in good humour. 'I'll tell Professor Snape. Run away before he gets back.'
With a laugh that sounded oddly out of place in the gloom, the boy leapt up and hurried from the room, throwing a smile at the Headmaster as he passed. Dumbledore chuckled, shuffling into the classroom.
'Good evening, Albus,' Hermione said cheerfully, holding the jar of worms at arm's length to place it in the cupboard. Dumbledore laughed at her suddenly squeamish behaviour.
'You'll never make Potions Mistress if you're that squeamish, Hermione,' he told her, rewarded with a self-deprecating grimace.
'I know,' she sighed, sitting down at one of the worktops. 'Were you looking for Severus?'
'No, actually,' he said, sitting beside her. 'I was looking for you.'
Hermione looked surprised.
'Oh?'
'I received a letter from the Ministry this morning. Draco Malfoy has requested that you be present at his father's execution.'
Hermione's face froze, all the pain and humiliation she had suffered at the hands of Malfoy senior surging forward in her mind. Her usually rosy cheeks were suddenly bereft of all colour. Concerned, Dumbledore placed a hand under her elbow, just in time to catch her as she fell backwards in a dead faint.
As he was struggling with her limp body, Snape strode into the dungeon, shocked into stillness by the sight of Hermione hanging from Dumbledore's arms.
'Don't just stand there, Severus, help me,' the old wizard told him, and he sprang forward, lifting the small frame into his arms.
With Dumbledore leading the way, they made their way through the halls of the school to Hermione's apartment, where Snape laid her gently on the bed, stroking her hair from her face. Crookshanks leapt up beside his witch, and mewed softly, pushing his nose against her cheek. Snape produced a small vial from his pocket, uncorking it and waving the sickly sweet perfume under her nose.
Hermione's eyes flew open, and she struggled to sit up, groaning as her head swam. Snape tucked an arm under her shoulders, helping her sit gently. As Dumbledore watched, he ministered to the shocked girl with all the tenderness he could muster, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that he cared deeply for her.
'What happened?' he demanded of the Headmaster, his anger at seeing Hermione so distressed boiling beneath his words.
Dumbledore repeated what he had told the girl, seeing the anger grow into full-blown fury at the mention of Malfoy.
'She cannot go, Albus,' Snape hissed, towering over his mentor. 'She's already been through enough, they have no right to ask this of her!'
'May I remind you that the Ministry have no idea of her identity,' Dumbledore said sternly, 'nor any of what happened in the weeks preceding Voldemort's demise? It was Hermione's wish that it be so. However, I have also received word from Mr Malfoy that he will reveal it all, should Hermione fail to attend.'
Snape's face was pinched white in anger, his eyes flashing with hatred.
'How dare he?' he breathed, venom in every syllable. 'That boy has gone too far this time.'
'Nevertheless, loath as I am to do this, Hermione must go to the execution,' Dumbledore said, regret filling his being. 'It is the lesser of the two evils. However, she will not go alone. You will go with her.'
Snape stared at him.
'Why me?' he asked softly, thrown off balance by this calm declaration.
'Because she trusts you, and you are far more likely to be able to make Mr Malfoy back off than I am.'
'Severus?' Hermione said weakly.
With a final stern glance at the Headmaster, Snape returned to her side, to explain what it was she had to do.
*~*~*
Hermione bit her lips nervously, steeling herself for the ordeal to come. Beside her, Snape was a reassuring, if distant, comfort, his presence like a balm to her nerves. He glanced down at her with a thin-lipped smile, asking without words if she was okay. She nodded abruptly, following the Ministry official through the corridors to the chamber.
As they entered, her eyes were drawn immediately to the Dementor in the corner, the dark hood swinging towards her. She faltered, continuing on only because of Snape's hand on her shoulder. He steered her clear of the forbidding presence, to face Malfoy and his mother. Narcissa, as always, held an expression of distaste on her beautiful face, as if there was a nasty smell right under her nose. Draco, on the other hand, looked positively cheerful, shaking Snape's hand with enthusiasm.
'Professor, how good of you to come,' he said smoothly, obviously having learnt a thing or two from his father. He turned to Hermione, raising her hand and brushing his lips across her knuckles. 'Hermione.'
She removed her hand from his grasp, forcing herself to look him in the eye.
'Draco,' she replied, trying to ignore the look of lust in his eyes as his gaze swept her body. He held her eyes a moment longer, before moving aside to speak with Fudge.
Snape stepped closer to her, having seen her reaction to Draco's subtle taunt. He bent close to her ear.
'Ignore him, Hermione,' he told her. 'He's trying to throw you off balance.'
She nodded, throwing him a tense smile.
As they took their seats, the door opened and Lucius Malfoy entered, flanked by two Aurors. He nodded to his son approvingly, his smug smile freezing Hermione's blood. There was something in his countenance that suggested he didn't think himself beaten. Unconsciously, she slid closer to Snape, taking comfort in his presence.
Fudge stood, looking older and more worn down than Hermione had ever seen him, and faced Lucius. The Death-Eater held his gaze, his stance almost obscene in its confident satisfaction.
'Lucius Malfoy, you have been found guilty of allegiance with He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named, and the murder and torture of countless innocents. You are sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss. Do you have anything to say to those here present?'
Lucius looked over his audience, his cold eyes coming to rest on Hermione. He stepped forward and bowed to her, eliciting a gasp from those gathered around them.
'My lady,' he murmured, lifting her hand to kiss it.
Hermione snatched her hand away, her face pale with shock and anger. Snape fixed Lucius with a glare so violent it momentarily took him aback. He rose, slightly unsettled, nodding to the Potions Master with brittle confidence. Kissing his wife, Lucius stood before the Dementor, the facade of serenity slipping from his features as the creature reached for him. As the hood lowered onto his face, he emitted one terrible agonised scream that echoed about the chamber.
Hermione couldn't watch as the soul was torn from his body, hiding her face behind her hands in an attempt to shut out the sight. The dead body hit the ground with a dull crack as the neck broke. Lifeless grey eyes stared at the ceiling, and for a few shocked moments, there was complete silence in the chamber. Then a wail filled the air, and Narcissa Malfoy fell to her knees beside her husband's body, tears streaming from her eyes.
Hermione rose, unable to take the noise, and quickly left the room, leaving Snape to deal with the hysterical woman. She leant against the wall, gulping in huge breaths of the cool air, fighting back sobs of terror. No one should have to die like that, not even for the most heinous of crimes. Not even Lucius Malfoy.
A hand touched her shoulder, and she jumped sideways, startled. Draco looked at her impassively, leaning against the wall to watch as she regained her composure.
'What do you want, Malfoy?' she managed, trying not to look into his eyes.
He smirked nastily.
'You know, my mother's a very clever woman,' he said matter-of-factly. 'She'll keep Snape busy for, oh, just long enough, I should think.'
Suddenly afraid, and very aware of how vulnerable she was, Hermione began to back away from her former schoolmate.
'Long enough for what?'
Draco's smirk widened into a malicious grin.
'Now, if I told you that, it wouldn't be a surprise, would it, my lady?'
His hand snaked out with lightning speed and grabbed her wrist, pulling her close to him. She could feel his breath on her neck as his other arm wrapped about her waist. Leaning back to look into his suddenly cold eyes, Hermione felt fear settle like a leaden weight on her heart. She opened her mouth to scream, and the world lurched. The corridor around her blurred and became a dark room that she knew all too well.
Draco stepped away from her, watching as she took in where she was. The Tower. Everything was exactly as it had been. The fire burning on the hearth, the books lining the walls . . . the four-poster bed, its curtains hanging open invitingly. Hermione felt her heart plummet to new depths of despair as she turned to see Draco gazing at her, desire dominant in his eyes.
'Remind you of home, Hermione?' he asked cruelly, stepping forward to take a strand of her hair between his fingers.
She slapped his hand away violently, suddenly reminded of the way Voldemort had done exactly the same thing. Draco laughed at her, the sound cutting deep into her fragile body.
'Don't think you can escape, Hermione,' he warned her. 'We know how you did it last time. You will stay here, and you will do as you are told.'
'I'll never obey you,' she spat, backing away from him.
He smirked.
'You will,' he promised. 'There are dresses in the closet. You will join me for dinner tonight.'
Hermione glared daggers at the man who held her captive.
'No.'
Draco raised an eyebrow.
'Perhaps I didn't make myself clear,' he suggested. 'You will be dressed, and join me for dinner, or I will have those Muggles outside tortured and killed until you do.'
He swept out, leaving her to stand in shock and fear in the room where she had spent so many nights grieving for the lives of the innocents.
As always when he thought of his apprentice, a soft smile found its way onto his face. Snape was deeply grateful for this chance with her, always on the look-out for the perfect moment to confess his feelings. The trouble was, there was no such thing as a perfect moment, at least not in this school. Still, she had pronounced them friends a few days before, so he seemed to be making some progress.
He glanced at the hourglass, and dragged himself to his feet, stretching his weary muscles. Locking the dungeon rooms and classroom, he made his way upstairs to Hermione's apartment. She let him in with a tired grin.
'I've been ordered to escort you down to dinner,' he informed her with a hint of sarcasm.
Hermione grimaced.
'I don't think I can make it down tonight,' she said, gesturing to the mountains of books and parchment on her desk. 'I've still got a pile of books to wade through, and write up my thesis.'
Snape caught her wrist as she waved her hand helplessly, forcing her to look at him in surprise. He pulled her around to face him, away from her work.
'Hermione, stop pushing yourself so hard,' he said gently, fighting the urge to stroke a stray curl from her eyes. 'You have the whole year to complete this project, don't rush it.'
He stepped closer, unable to stop himself. Hermione suppressed a shiver as he brushed her hair from her eyes, leaving his fingers to rest on her cheek.
'Don't neglect yourself,' he murmured silkily, his black eyes burning into hers. 'You must always come first, before work.'
Mesmerised by his tenderness, Hermione gazed up at him, her arms itching to wrap around him and pull him closer.
'Why do you care so much?' she whispered, stepping slightly closer. She could almost feel his breath on her cheeks.
Snape felt his heart slam violently. This was it, this was his chance.
Tell her, Severus, he could almost hear Dumbledore saying. Tell her the truth.
'Because . . .' he hesitated, afraid of what she might say or do.
Hermione watched a myriad of emotions flash across his face, and suddenly knew he was trying to tell her what she had known all along. She wondered if she should make it easier for him, since he was obviously finding expressing himself in this instance painfully hard. Slowly she lifted a hand to cup his jaw, feeling him tense beneath her touch. His eyes never leaving hers, he relaxed somewhat hesitantly, reluctantly allowing himself to enjoy the sensation of being touched again.
Suddenly there was a fearful yowl, and a huge ball of ginger fur and claws leapt between them, forcing the Potions Master back. Snape looked down at Crookshanks with surprise, quickly changing to chagrin. He'd been forced to back down by a cat.
Hermione jumped, fighting down the urge to laugh at the sight of Crookshanks trying to outstare Snape. She scooped him up, scolding the fur ball quietly, and deposited him on the bed, inwardly furious that he'd chosen that moment to get jealous. When she returned, Snape had composed himself, extending a hand to take hers.
'Allow me to take you down to dinner, Hermione,' he said smoothly, as if nothing untoward had happened.
Hermione forced herself to smile, despite the raging disappointment, slipping a hand into his.
'Thank you, Severus.'
*~*~*
Dumbledore watched from the doorway as Hermione helped a terrified third- year finish his detention in good time. Snape was nowhere to be seen, a sure sign that he was nearby. The boy heaved a sigh of relief as he deposited the last of the screw worms in a jar, grinning up at Hermione's disgusted expression.
'I guess we're all done,' she told him, returning the grin in good humour. 'I'll tell Professor Snape. Run away before he gets back.'
With a laugh that sounded oddly out of place in the gloom, the boy leapt up and hurried from the room, throwing a smile at the Headmaster as he passed. Dumbledore chuckled, shuffling into the classroom.
'Good evening, Albus,' Hermione said cheerfully, holding the jar of worms at arm's length to place it in the cupboard. Dumbledore laughed at her suddenly squeamish behaviour.
'You'll never make Potions Mistress if you're that squeamish, Hermione,' he told her, rewarded with a self-deprecating grimace.
'I know,' she sighed, sitting down at one of the worktops. 'Were you looking for Severus?'
'No, actually,' he said, sitting beside her. 'I was looking for you.'
Hermione looked surprised.
'Oh?'
'I received a letter from the Ministry this morning. Draco Malfoy has requested that you be present at his father's execution.'
Hermione's face froze, all the pain and humiliation she had suffered at the hands of Malfoy senior surging forward in her mind. Her usually rosy cheeks were suddenly bereft of all colour. Concerned, Dumbledore placed a hand under her elbow, just in time to catch her as she fell backwards in a dead faint.
As he was struggling with her limp body, Snape strode into the dungeon, shocked into stillness by the sight of Hermione hanging from Dumbledore's arms.
'Don't just stand there, Severus, help me,' the old wizard told him, and he sprang forward, lifting the small frame into his arms.
With Dumbledore leading the way, they made their way through the halls of the school to Hermione's apartment, where Snape laid her gently on the bed, stroking her hair from her face. Crookshanks leapt up beside his witch, and mewed softly, pushing his nose against her cheek. Snape produced a small vial from his pocket, uncorking it and waving the sickly sweet perfume under her nose.
Hermione's eyes flew open, and she struggled to sit up, groaning as her head swam. Snape tucked an arm under her shoulders, helping her sit gently. As Dumbledore watched, he ministered to the shocked girl with all the tenderness he could muster, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that he cared deeply for her.
'What happened?' he demanded of the Headmaster, his anger at seeing Hermione so distressed boiling beneath his words.
Dumbledore repeated what he had told the girl, seeing the anger grow into full-blown fury at the mention of Malfoy.
'She cannot go, Albus,' Snape hissed, towering over his mentor. 'She's already been through enough, they have no right to ask this of her!'
'May I remind you that the Ministry have no idea of her identity,' Dumbledore said sternly, 'nor any of what happened in the weeks preceding Voldemort's demise? It was Hermione's wish that it be so. However, I have also received word from Mr Malfoy that he will reveal it all, should Hermione fail to attend.'
Snape's face was pinched white in anger, his eyes flashing with hatred.
'How dare he?' he breathed, venom in every syllable. 'That boy has gone too far this time.'
'Nevertheless, loath as I am to do this, Hermione must go to the execution,' Dumbledore said, regret filling his being. 'It is the lesser of the two evils. However, she will not go alone. You will go with her.'
Snape stared at him.
'Why me?' he asked softly, thrown off balance by this calm declaration.
'Because she trusts you, and you are far more likely to be able to make Mr Malfoy back off than I am.'
'Severus?' Hermione said weakly.
With a final stern glance at the Headmaster, Snape returned to her side, to explain what it was she had to do.
*~*~*
Hermione bit her lips nervously, steeling herself for the ordeal to come. Beside her, Snape was a reassuring, if distant, comfort, his presence like a balm to her nerves. He glanced down at her with a thin-lipped smile, asking without words if she was okay. She nodded abruptly, following the Ministry official through the corridors to the chamber.
As they entered, her eyes were drawn immediately to the Dementor in the corner, the dark hood swinging towards her. She faltered, continuing on only because of Snape's hand on her shoulder. He steered her clear of the forbidding presence, to face Malfoy and his mother. Narcissa, as always, held an expression of distaste on her beautiful face, as if there was a nasty smell right under her nose. Draco, on the other hand, looked positively cheerful, shaking Snape's hand with enthusiasm.
'Professor, how good of you to come,' he said smoothly, obviously having learnt a thing or two from his father. He turned to Hermione, raising her hand and brushing his lips across her knuckles. 'Hermione.'
She removed her hand from his grasp, forcing herself to look him in the eye.
'Draco,' she replied, trying to ignore the look of lust in his eyes as his gaze swept her body. He held her eyes a moment longer, before moving aside to speak with Fudge.
Snape stepped closer to her, having seen her reaction to Draco's subtle taunt. He bent close to her ear.
'Ignore him, Hermione,' he told her. 'He's trying to throw you off balance.'
She nodded, throwing him a tense smile.
As they took their seats, the door opened and Lucius Malfoy entered, flanked by two Aurors. He nodded to his son approvingly, his smug smile freezing Hermione's blood. There was something in his countenance that suggested he didn't think himself beaten. Unconsciously, she slid closer to Snape, taking comfort in his presence.
Fudge stood, looking older and more worn down than Hermione had ever seen him, and faced Lucius. The Death-Eater held his gaze, his stance almost obscene in its confident satisfaction.
'Lucius Malfoy, you have been found guilty of allegiance with He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named, and the murder and torture of countless innocents. You are sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss. Do you have anything to say to those here present?'
Lucius looked over his audience, his cold eyes coming to rest on Hermione. He stepped forward and bowed to her, eliciting a gasp from those gathered around them.
'My lady,' he murmured, lifting her hand to kiss it.
Hermione snatched her hand away, her face pale with shock and anger. Snape fixed Lucius with a glare so violent it momentarily took him aback. He rose, slightly unsettled, nodding to the Potions Master with brittle confidence. Kissing his wife, Lucius stood before the Dementor, the facade of serenity slipping from his features as the creature reached for him. As the hood lowered onto his face, he emitted one terrible agonised scream that echoed about the chamber.
Hermione couldn't watch as the soul was torn from his body, hiding her face behind her hands in an attempt to shut out the sight. The dead body hit the ground with a dull crack as the neck broke. Lifeless grey eyes stared at the ceiling, and for a few shocked moments, there was complete silence in the chamber. Then a wail filled the air, and Narcissa Malfoy fell to her knees beside her husband's body, tears streaming from her eyes.
Hermione rose, unable to take the noise, and quickly left the room, leaving Snape to deal with the hysterical woman. She leant against the wall, gulping in huge breaths of the cool air, fighting back sobs of terror. No one should have to die like that, not even for the most heinous of crimes. Not even Lucius Malfoy.
A hand touched her shoulder, and she jumped sideways, startled. Draco looked at her impassively, leaning against the wall to watch as she regained her composure.
'What do you want, Malfoy?' she managed, trying not to look into his eyes.
He smirked nastily.
'You know, my mother's a very clever woman,' he said matter-of-factly. 'She'll keep Snape busy for, oh, just long enough, I should think.'
Suddenly afraid, and very aware of how vulnerable she was, Hermione began to back away from her former schoolmate.
'Long enough for what?'
Draco's smirk widened into a malicious grin.
'Now, if I told you that, it wouldn't be a surprise, would it, my lady?'
His hand snaked out with lightning speed and grabbed her wrist, pulling her close to him. She could feel his breath on her neck as his other arm wrapped about her waist. Leaning back to look into his suddenly cold eyes, Hermione felt fear settle like a leaden weight on her heart. She opened her mouth to scream, and the world lurched. The corridor around her blurred and became a dark room that she knew all too well.
Draco stepped away from her, watching as she took in where she was. The Tower. Everything was exactly as it had been. The fire burning on the hearth, the books lining the walls . . . the four-poster bed, its curtains hanging open invitingly. Hermione felt her heart plummet to new depths of despair as she turned to see Draco gazing at her, desire dominant in his eyes.
'Remind you of home, Hermione?' he asked cruelly, stepping forward to take a strand of her hair between his fingers.
She slapped his hand away violently, suddenly reminded of the way Voldemort had done exactly the same thing. Draco laughed at her, the sound cutting deep into her fragile body.
'Don't think you can escape, Hermione,' he warned her. 'We know how you did it last time. You will stay here, and you will do as you are told.'
'I'll never obey you,' she spat, backing away from him.
He smirked.
'You will,' he promised. 'There are dresses in the closet. You will join me for dinner tonight.'
Hermione glared daggers at the man who held her captive.
'No.'
Draco raised an eyebrow.
'Perhaps I didn't make myself clear,' he suggested. 'You will be dressed, and join me for dinner, or I will have those Muggles outside tortured and killed until you do.'
He swept out, leaving her to stand in shock and fear in the room where she had spent so many nights grieving for the lives of the innocents.