By Adriana
trixielou60@hotmail.com
There is that in me- I do not know what it is- but I
know it is in
me.
Wrench'd and sweaty- calm and cool then my body
becomes,
I sleep- I sleep long.
~From the poem, "Song of Myself" by Walt Whitman
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Chapter 12: Wrench
Severus woke to darkness, his mind heavy with sleep as he struggled to remember something important. Feeling a weight across his body, he slowly opened his eyes. A fuzzy image of dark hair, curls in riotous display, met his sleepy gaze and he sucked in a startled breath.
Oh! What was this?
Closing his eyes, he fought to remember what had happened. He had a horrible headache and felt very weak, but apart from that, he couldn't remember how it came to be that he was lying in his own bed, Hermione Granger draped across his body.
His last memory was of being in the Potions Lab . . . Did he have a visitor? Before he could search his mind more deeply, Hermione let out a soft sigh and hugged him even closer. Severus felt his heart rate accelerate. Glancing over at the window, he flushed with embarrassment.
After they'd come back from Belize, he'd found his estrangement from Hermione very hard to bear. While he would never have admitted it at the time, he'd been desperate for a connection to her and in a moment of weakness, he'd conjured up a window to match the one he'd enchanted for her the afternoon that Poppy had died. Hogwarts now boasted two windows in the dungeons.
He sighed in defeat. "There is no hiding it now," he thought. Slowly but surely, Hermione was knocking down his defenses, and what was worse, she knew it. He fought a feeling of dread, but deeply squelched it. "She won't hurt me," he thought with certainty. But he still felt an unnamed sense of unease.
Concentrating on the window, Severus saw the drapes begin to move as if pushed away by invisible hands. He smiled in satisfaction. Doing wandless magic did have its advantages: He didn't even have to move from his very comfortable vantage point, so his arms and legs remained entangled with hers.
He knew they shouldn't be doing this, that it was an indulgence that was best left unsavored. "Later," he thought to himself. "There's time enough to be rational later, but for now I'll enjoy this." He closed his eyes again.
Hermione let out a sleepy squeak and rolled over, on to her back. As the sun rose on the horizon across the lake, she again rolled over to her side, taking Severus with her. Pressing his body against her back, he reached around her and splayed his hand across her abdomen, a possessive gesture, but one that made him shiver with pleasure. He propped himself up on his elbow, his hair mingling with hers, and watched as a shaft of morning light moved across their prone bodies. Still sleeping, Hermione covered his hand with her own and moved them together until they were just touching the rounded swell of her breast. Severus fought to keep his breathing calm.
They lay together for several minutes until the sunlight finally moved to illuminate her peaceful face.
Severus gazed at her, admiring how the light played off her hair. She stirred and stretched, letting out a low growl. He leaned over and experimenting, he kissed a soft spot behind her ear. She arched her neck, awed at the feeling of his malleable lips on her skin.
"Good morning," he murmured in a silky voice.
She trembled, then turned to him, a dazzling smile playing on her lips. "Now that's something I never thought I'd ever hear you say to me."
"Life is full of surprises, I guess."
"I can't begin to tell you how glad I am to see you. I thought I'd never speak to you again," Hermione tried to keep the tremor out of her voice, but was wholly unsuccessful. She turned to him completely, and he lowered his head, so that they were lying side by side on the pillow. She brushed a hand across his neck, until it came to rest in his hair. Looking deeply in her eyes, he asked, "What happened?"
"Taryn Butler poisoned you."
Severus raised an eyebrow. "Alas, her love for me was toxic," he said sardonically.
"Severus! It's nothing to joke about! She nearly killed you," Hermione admonished him as she lifted her head.
"And you saved me, of course," he said quietly. Cupping his hand behind her neck, he swooped his head upwards, giving her a short, sweet kiss. "Thank you," he whispered.
They lay in silence for a moment, content to let their eyes roam over the other. Finally Severus cleared his throat and asked the inevitable question.
"How did you find me?"
Hermione sighed. "After I left you in the Potions Lab, Draco came to the infirmary to see me. Apparently, he'd seen Voldemort earlier that day and smelled the perfume of a woman who was visiting the Dark Lord. When he came to the hospital wing, he smelled the same perfume and put the pieces together that Taryn Butler was a Death Eater. Worried about you, we ran to the lab and found Ron Weasley wrestling with her, but she'd already poisoned you. I found a hankerchief, saturated with --"
"Tincture of calotropis," he finished for her. "I remember now. I was surprised to see her." He looked at Hermione with uncertainty. "I didn't tell you, but she came on to me a couple of weeks ago and I'd been avoiding her ever since. She came to see me in the Lab, telling me that she wanted to apologize for her behavior. Before I could wave her off, she'd moved in front of me, shoving a hankerchief into my face. The last thing I remember was recognizing the smell of calotropis. Nothing after that."
"It was very lucky for us that Voldemort chose calotropis . . . it's got a very distinctive odor. And thanks to Draco and Ron, they were able to immobilize her while I gave you an injection of Belladonna." Hermione couldn't help adding, "It's known as Atropine, in the muggle world."
Severus smirked. "According to old legends, the plant belongs to the devil, who goes about trimming and tending it in his leisure, and can only be diverted from its care on one night in the year, that is on Walpurgis, when he is preparing for the witches' sabbath. It's a silly superstition, but I always keep a vial of it in the storeroom . . . I'll bet you knew that," he added teasingly.
Hermione chuckled.
Severus disengaged from her in reluctance and sat up. "So much has happened," he said. "I have work to do and --" he stopped abruptly. "Oh Nimue! I feel like shit!" he exclaimed.
Hermione coughed discreetly, hiding a grin behind her hand. "There will be no work coming from you today, Severus Snape. You need to rest. Don't worry about the potion, it's coming along better than I could have hoped . . . I can feel it . . . we're so close to finishing it, love."
She turned her head away quickly, her face colouring. She hadn't meant for that term of endearment to slip out.
Severus acted as if he hadn't heard her, but inwardly he reacted like a teenaged boy. "She called me 'love!'" he thought with giddiness. Then he abruptly frowned and ammended his thought. "Get a grip, you old codger."
Hermione noticed his frown, and feared she'd gone too far. Suddenly, he turned to her, his face alight with something he'd just remembered.
"I meant to ask . . . why was Weasley in the Potions Lab?"
Oh Merlin! She'd forgotten about that!
Hermione swallowed hard. She had a feeling he wasn't going to like the answer.
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Draco walked aimlessly through the hallways at Hogwarts, deep in thought. He'd spent the night in the castle and had fallen into an exhausted sleep. After the events of the previous evening, he didn't feel that he could go back to Malfoy Manor, not without getting the story straight, anyway. Doubtless, Voldemort and his Death Eaters were waiting to hear of Severus Snape's demise and he wasn't about to be the one to break the news.
No, he'd leave that to the Headmaster.
Draco heard the sound of pounding feet behind him. "Malfoy! I just heard what happened last night!" Harry caught up to him, breathless from running.
Yes, it's true, Potter! Taryn Butler tried to kill my uncle, but thanks to my quick thinking, I was able to immobilize her and save the day! I'm a hero, now . . . you're just going to have to share the spotlight."
Harry rolled his eyes. "As I heard it, you had a lot of help, you gob shite."
"No need to call me names, you jealous tit," Draco sounded sulky. "I found the elusive spy, I saved my uncle's life and I've probably saved the war effort. The least you can do is show me a little respect."
"I'd show you more respect if you could share some of the credit. As I understand it, you had some help from Ron and Hermione."
Draco couldn't help but grin in acknowledgement. "Maybe I did," he said.
Harry fell into step beside him. "The Headmaster is calling a meeting of The Order of the Phoenix. We have to come up with a plan."
Draco nodded. " A lot has happened in the last twenty-four hours." He hesitated before going on. "I've been meaning to speak to you. It's about Ginny Weasley."
Harry immediately looked guarded. "What about her?"
Draco stopped and turned to Harry. "I don't pretend to know what's going on with the two of you. There has been talk amongst the Death Eaters that you and she were, how shall I put it? Shagging like bunnies?"
"That's none of your business, Malfoy."
"Oh, but it's been made my business, by the Dark Lord! I'm sure you'll be interested to know that Voldemort has, erm . . . " He paused for dramatic effect. "He's got romantic designs on her, Potter. The fact that you're involved with her has only made him hate you even more. He talks of seducing her to the Dark Side, and given her history in the Chamber of Secrets, he thinks she's susceptible to him. He wants to make her his princess, or empress, or queen . . . something."
Harry felt his heart grow cold.
"That can't be true," he whispered.
"It is, " Draco snarled. "You're just going to have to deal with it. She needs to be warned, although I have to confess it would be amusing to have you lose your girlfriend to that freak of nature. She obviously has atrocious taste in wizards."
Harry grabbed Draco by the collar of his robe and shoved. "You've gone too far!" he roared.
Draco immediately felt an unfamiliar stab of regret. "I'm sorry, Potter," he said quietly. "Old habits die hard, and all."
Harry and Draco had been making their way up to the Headmaster's chambers and Harry sat down on one of the steps leading to his office. He ran a hand through his unruly hair.
"What is this all about really? Why do you think Voldemort is really interested in Ginny?"
"I haven't a clue. I imagine it's just another way to distract you. War is complicated, you know."
"Complicated. Is that how you really look at it? I always thought it was simple. You chose a side and you fight like hell until you win. Fighting for what you believe in is the only thing that matters."
Draco snickered. "Gryffindor in a nutshell," he said mockingly.
Harry looked chagrined. "Sometimes you have to break things down into their simple components. It's easier to deal with that way."
Draco contemplated this. "I could never make things so simple. When I was fourteen, something happened in my life that changed the way I look at everything. You think you have it all figured out, but you don't, Potter. Some famous muggle chap once wrote, 'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' Of course, Horatio is a very silly name," he added pompously.
"I guess hell has officially frozen over, now," Harry said with amusement. "You're quoting Shakespeare? What would your father say?" He studied Draco out of the corner of his eye. "So what happened when you were fourteen?" he asked bluntly.
Draco's face immediately changed into a hardness that was very familiar to Harry. He'd seen it often enough in school.
"No need to concern yourself with it," he said harshly. "Suffice it to say that I've got my reasons for doing what I'm doing."
Harry shook his head. "I can only imagine, Malfoy." He stood up and began ascending the stairs.
Draco followed closely behind him. "What are you going to do about Ginny Weasley?"
"I have no idea."
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Lucius Malfoy sat in his vast library, staring moodily into the fire. There were hundreds of books lining the shelves, most of them unread or never opened, but they were only there for show, so it didn't really matter. Narcissa had insisted on a well-stocked library, as it was considered fashionable and bespoke of good breeding. Lucius snorted at the thought. His bloodline was indisputably pure and no book was going to ever change that. He absently sipped at his tea and sorted through the morning's mail. He hated tea, to be honest, but unfortunately, it was too early for brandy.
His thoughts roamed to the war and his current place in it. He had confidently placed himself squarely on the path to unfathomable power and nothing was going to sway him now. Thousands of years of Malfoy scheming and fighting had brought him to the cusp of greatness, one step away from achieving everything he'd ever wanted. Only one thing stood in his way.
His son.
For years Draco had been a great disappointment to him . . . his grades had never been good enough and he was irreverant and weak-spirited. Sulky and spoiled, he'd never really grasped the rules of the game, no matter how hard Lucius had tried to pound them into him. Draco had taken the Dark Mark in his seventh year and his reluctance had been a thorn in his father's side ever since. He'd thought that the boy didn't have what it took to rise amongst the ranks of the Dark Lord's minions, yet he'd somehow placed himself amongst Voldemort's closest confidants.
Lucius didn't trust the boy.
Yes, he had a modicum of ambition and there was a cruel streak that Lucius had tried to nurture, but he didn't seem to have the will to do the unpleasantries expected of somebody in Voldemort's service. Much to his surprise, it didn't seem to matter to the Dark Lord that Draco had somehow avoided getting his hands dirty these past years. Instead, Voldemort had embraced his son as a trusted servant and had seen to it that Draco knew most of the deepest secrets of the war effort. Lucius was beginning to suspect that his Master was a fool.
His thoughts were interrupted by a shirking house elf, who'd tentatively opened the door to the library. "Forgive me, my Lord," he squeaked. "Master Hamilton is here to see you."
"Send him in," said Lucius, as he stood to receive his guest.
A tall, thin man with graying hair and a short-cropped beard entered to the library, his rich black robes meant to show off old money and good taste. "Lucius, my dear man!" he exclaimed. "So lovely to see you looking so well."
After an exchange of pleasantries, Lucius offered his guest something to drink, which he politely declined.
"So what brings you here on such a cold morning, Julius?"
Hamilton paused to sit in a plush chair by the fireplace. "I have news of your son, and I'm afraid it's not good."
Lucius joined him by the fire. "You know I value your friendship and I appreciate your coming to me with this. What has the boy done now?" He braced himself, showing no outward emotion.
"As you know, my youngest son, Andrew, is in his seventh year at Hogwarts."
"A fine boy," murmured Lucius. "A credit to Slytherin, if I may say."
"Well, thank you for that. At any rate, Andrew was witness to something very disturbing last night. He tells me that he was walking through the dungeons, on his way back to the common room, when he was surprised by Draco and that Mudblood--what's her name?"
"Hermione Granger." Lucius said her name as if it left a terrible taste in his mouth. "My son has been courting her, under orders from our Lord, though it's been a most odious task."
Julius Hamilton couldn't help snorting discreetly at this statement. Although he and Lucius had been friends for years, there had always been a healthy competition between them. This latest news was going to be a big blow to the infamous Malfoy ego, but Lucius had to know what was going on with his son. If Hamilton took secret pleasure in telling him, who could blame him?
"Perhaps it's not really an act, Lucius. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but Andrew tells me that Draco and this Granger chit ran by him in a hurry last night, running toward the Potions Lab. It seems that they were looking for Taryn Butler and had reason to believe that she was somewhere near the lab. Curious, my boy followed them."
"And what did he find, if I may ask?" Lucius felt a deep sense of anxiety, which he hid well.
"Our Lord had put his plans for assasination into action. Severus Snape was lying on the floor, obviously poisoned, but Taryn was struggling with a red-haired man, a Weasely, most likely. Your son joined in the fight, disarming her. You don't happen to know why he would interfere with the wishes of our Master, would you?"
Lucius shook his head angrily. "That little bastard!" he said forcefully. "Is your son sure about this?"
"He stayed long enough to see Draco leave to get the Headmaster. I'd say that he's working closely with the enemy, Lucius. I'm sorry to be the one to have to tell you this."
Lucius' mind was screaming. His first thought was to find Draco and beat the living shit out of him. Immediately. Instead, he said calmly, "I'll deal with him in my own way. Rest assured, Julius, that I will see to it that he sees the error of his ways. We may be able to use this to our advantage. That fool Dumbledore believes my son has turned against me. For now, I think it best that he continue to believe that. Does anybody else know about this?"
"No, I came straight to you. I knew that if the situation were reversed, you'd do the same for me. Obviously, you must deal with this, before your son does something to dishonor the Malfoy name. I trust you can get him to see reason?"
Lucius nodded. "I'll see to it, make no mistake about that," he said with malice. "Can your son be trusted to keep quiet?"
"I've already taken care of it. For his protection, I've had the memory removed. It seemed best."
"That was very wise of you. And what of Severus Snape?" Lucius couldn't hide the distaste in his voice, he'd never liked Narcissa's cousin.
"It is unknown as to whether or not he survived," said Julius. "Andrew says that Granger was trying to heal him when he left. I wish I could tell you more."
Hamilton stood. "I must be getting back. Edwina says lunch is going to be served promptly at noon and I have many stops to make until then. She'll have my head if I'm late." He extended his hand. "Good luck to you, Lucius. I have every confidence that you'll do the right thing. Please let me know what happens, I don't want to get caught in the middle of it."
Lucius reassured him and saw him to the door. Eyeing his reflection in a mirror in the entrance hall, his lips stretched into a thin, cruel grimace.
"My son is going to regret the day he was born," he vowed.
TBC
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Author's note: My usual thanks to everyone, especially those who took the time to review. I proof-read this myself as Elizabeth had other things going on. Feel better, girlie! I'm not nearly as good at this beta stuff as she is, so please ignore any errors.
The quote from Shakespeare in this chapter was obviously from "Hamlet", or as I call it, the "Prozac Poster Boy", LOL.
Poor, poor Draco . . . I hope everything turns out all right for the little wanker.