Chapter 13
"For dogs have compassed me: the assembly of the wicked have enclosed me."
Psalms 22:16
That night Snape lay in his bed and contemplated what Hermione had said about Potter. He had never thought of his hatred of Potter arising out of jealously but there had been enormous satisfaction in having the opportunity to kiss Hermione so thoroughly right in front of the little squit's face. He knew perfectly well that both Harry and Ron had had crushes on Hermione at different times during their Hogwarts years and that she had not dated either of them. In fact, he would bet that he got further with Hermione than either of them ever had. He knew Hermione had been asked out by several boys during her time at Hogwarts but had turned them all down, opting to concentrate on her studies. That didn't mean she hadn't enjoyed the odd snogging session with some boys in her year, he could tell from the way she responded to his kisses that she had been kissed before but he knew it had never gone any further than that into a real relationship. It made Snape feel quite smug. While he himself had only kissed her a couple of times, he doubted anyone had ever been given the opportunity to kiss her the way he had nor got the response that he had got. Snape's smirk grew even wider at the thought.
* * *
The very next night, Severus felt the familiar burning on his forearm and immediately pulled on his black robes and mask. He apparated to the place indicated in the last letter from the Death Eaters and waited for Voldemort to appear.
He was one in a crowd of around 200 people which was in sharp contrast to the thousands that used to be at these meetings. Their numbers were slowly swelling though.
Once everyone had arrived, Voldemort made his entrance looking more frighteningly vital than he had for years. As per usual, the meeting started with Voldemort's harangues regarding the necessity to weed out the mudbloods from amongst them. Snape didn't bother paying much attention until Voldemort mentioned something that made his blood run cold.
"There have been reports of a black unicorn in the Dark Forest," Voldemort was saying. "It has only been seen twice by our spies but the forest is being closely watched for another appearance of the creature. Some of you may not know that this creature is one of the few things now left on earth that can actually completely destroy me rather than merely weaken me. As such, it is imperative that this creature be caught and killed swiftly. It cannot be allowed to live! Anyone who brings me proof that this creature had been destroyed will be granted anything within my power to give with the exception of the leadership of the Death Eaters," he hissed.
Snape could feel sweat trickling down his sides inside his robes. He wanted to get back to Hermione and take her to the other side of the globe where Voldemort could not so easily get to her.
"Not much is know about the black unicorn because it is so rare," Voldemort was continuing. "So I cannot tell you how to destroy it but anyone who does accomplish this will have rewards beyond their dreams," he promised, his red eyes glowing in the half light. They were out in the open in a field, lit only by a full moon. It was not as safe as a location that they could lock themselves into but it was adequate because it was deserted and far from any town.
"Snape!" Voldemort suddenly hissed. "Where are you? Come forward." Snape came forward taking off his mask, hoping Voldemort could not smell his fear for Hermione on him. "I will charge you will this task as you are the most educated in our ranks and have the advantage of your animagus form. I want information on this creature at every meeting from now on. I want to know why it has suddenly appeared in this region, it's habits, it's powers and most importantly - I want to know how to destroy it. If you can bring me its body as proof of its death, I may even finally forgive you for your cowardly desertion from our ranks all those years ago," he sneered. "Lest you forget my wrath." he said cruelly, lifting his wand, "crucio!"
Even though Snape knew full well what was coming, it still knocked him to his knees and robbed him of his breath.
::::: * "They gaped upon me with their mouths, as a ravening and a roaring lion. I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint: my heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels. My strength is dried up like a potsherd; and my tongue cleaveth to my jaws; and thou hast brought me into the dust of death. For dogs have compassed me: the assembly of the wicked have inclosed me. I can count all my bones: they look and stare upon me. But be not thou far from me, haste thee to help me. Deliver my soul from the sword; my darling from the power of the dog. Save me from the lion's mouth: for thou hast heard me from the horns of the unicorns.":::::
It was morning before he knew where he was again and the Death Eaters had melted into the morning mist like ghosts. He was lying, soaked with dew on the heather covered ground. He could barely move from the after-effects of the crucio curse. Every time he suffered under this curse, it was like dying but actual death would be preferable. He tried to roll over, off his face but he simply couldn't. The effort made him groan aloud in agony. Even crying would hurt too much to bear, so he lay there and simply breathed and waited until he could move again without the universe convulsing in pain.
It was late the next night before he made it back to the house. He fell straight into bed.
Hermione has suspected something was wrong when Snape was missing the entire day. It simply was not like him. She was worried but not overly, as Snape always looked the type who could take care of himself. When he was still not back that night, she got slightly more worried but still didn't contact Dumbledore. She promised herself that she would owl the Head Master if Snape was not back by morning.
Around midnight, she heard a crash downstairs. She immediately got up and went down to his rooms, assuming it was Snape and he'd done something to himself. Sure enough, Snape was there but he was lying across his bed fully clothed and filthy and damp. "Professor? Are you.?" She stopped herself. That was a silly question. Of course he was not alright. Snape was not the kind of person who came home late and dirty unless there had been trouble.
"Oh Professor.. What's happened to you this time?" She breathed softly to herself and looked at him closely. His eyes were open but glazed and once again, he had no injuries. She checked his breathing and pulse - both were normal. When she touched his skin, he groaned in obvious pain. Her eyes narrowed with recognition and suddenly she understood. "Cruciatus?" Was all she said. He grunted in assent. "Okay, I'll be right back."
She went straight to Hogwarts using floo and brought Madame Pomphrey back with her, having explained what happened. Madame Pomphrey went straight to work while Hermione waited out in the sitting room area. Another long night, she predicted to herself.
* * *
Evening had fallen by the time Madame Pomphrey came out of Snape's room. Hermione took the nurse upstairs and gave her something to eat as she hadn't had a break all day.
"Is he going to be okay now?" Hermione asked, as she put a plate of food in front of the tired nurse. "I mean, is he still in pain?"
"No, he'll be fine now but he needs a good night's sleep." Madame Pomphrey replied, taking a grateful sip of the wine Hermione had given her with her meal.
"Have you had to treat him often for this?" Hermione asked quietly, looking down at the table.
Madame Pomphrey smiled sadly at the downbent head of the former Hogwarts pupil. "Yes, my dear. On quite a regular basis."
A flash of anger swept across Hermione's face but was swiftly gone. "Surely, every time this happens it must take its toll?" She murmured through compressed lips.
"I'm afraid so. Each time it takes a little longer for him to respond to my treatment. Dumbledore is on the verge of taking him off the assignment but I think Snape would continue anyway," the nurse said with a sigh.
"Yes, he would." Hermione said flatly, without hesitation.
* * *
The nurse left Snape sleeping peacefully as she headed back to Hogwarts via floo with instructions to Hermione to make Snape rest as much as possible. As though I can make Snape do anything, Hermione thought in irritation.
The next morning Snape came upstairs for breakfast looking pale, the lines on his face cut deeper than before. Hermione's face darkened in anger when she saw how weak he looked. She wanted to kick something.
She stared at him broodingly as he ate his breakfast. He studiously ignored her gaze and read a wizarding newspaper as he ate his scrambled eggs and toast. Hermione just sat there and looked at him, daring him to break the silence. Finally, once he finished eating, he did.
"It's no good staring at me like that, Hermione. I told you I wasn't taking you to one of those death traps," he said with false mildness, folding the newspaper.
"You should have," she argued directly.
He looked up at her, his dark eyes sunken further into his face and ringed with shadows. "They know about you, Hermione. Do you know what was urgent about that meeting? Voldemort's spies told him about the appearance of a black unicorn in the Dark Forest. He knows that the black unicorn is one of the few things that can finally destroy him and he's determined to destroy it first!" He snarled at her, dark eyes flashing.
"Good," Hermione said simply. "Let him be afraid. You know what? He should be," Hermione said with narrowed eyes.
Snape felt apoplectic. "Do you understand nothing, after everything you've been told?" He barked, thumping the table with one hand in frustration. "Voldemort will totally destroy you!"
"He doesn't know how," Hermione said calmly.
Snape went still. That was true, he thought. "He will find out, Hermione! Of all people, Voldemort will find out. He's offered huge rewards to anyone who destroys the black unicorn. You will be hunted, in your animagus form. You must promise me not to transform ever again," he said in a low, barely controlled voice.
"I don't do it deliberately," Hermione explained with a shrug.
"What do you mean, you don't do it deliberately?" Snape asked, with a deep frown.
"I mean that I don't have complete control over it," Hermione said honestly.
Snape stared at her in horror. "What makes you think that?" He demanded.
"Well, although I had the potion the first time and chose the timing myself then I think that I was able to transform so easily because I felt very emotional at the time," Hermione explained, not very confidently. "It was almost like, being in a highly emotional state helped me do it or even caused it in some way or at least, caused an almost irresistible urge to transform."
Snape listened carefully, trying to piece together what she was saying. "Do you think you would have succeeded in transforming if you hadn't felt very emotional the first time?" He asked.
"Yes, because of the potion but the second time I was feeling. I don't know. suffocated and by my feelings. almost like they could erupt out of me like a volcano. I suspect that each time I feel overwhelmed like that I will transform spontaneously and I won't be able to stop it," Hermione said almost apologetically knowing she wasn't explaining it very well.
Snape looked appalled. He himself knew how strong the urge to transform was when under stress but by the time he had become an animagus, he was old enough to control his emotions and thus, also when he transformed. Obviously, Hermione still being so young and a teenager as well meant that she may not be able to control her emotions enough to stop herself transforming under stress. Snape wanted to swear violently. He felt sick with terror at the threat this new insight posed to his ward.
"If you feel stressed in future Hermione, you must lock yourself into a room and try and calm down." He ordered fearfully.
Hermione knew that that would be impossible. Even from the two times she had transformed, she knew that the urge would drive her out to the Dark Forest before she even did the transformation. As a black unicorn, she felt no fear and that was an irresistible temptation when she was under stress.
She reached out her hand across the table and took Snape's hand in hers. She didn't care if he didn't like it; they both needed the comfort. His hand was as cold as ice in her warm one. She ran her thumb over the back of his hand. For all he had been gardening, his hand was still milk white against her pale brown skin. "Don't get so worried!" She said firmly but comfortingly, looking him in the eye. His hand tightened on hers and they sat that way for a long time.
(*Psalms 22:13-21)
That night Snape lay in his bed and contemplated what Hermione had said about Potter. He had never thought of his hatred of Potter arising out of jealously but there had been enormous satisfaction in having the opportunity to kiss Hermione so thoroughly right in front of the little squit's face. He knew perfectly well that both Harry and Ron had had crushes on Hermione at different times during their Hogwarts years and that she had not dated either of them. In fact, he would bet that he got further with Hermione than either of them ever had. He knew Hermione had been asked out by several boys during her time at Hogwarts but had turned them all down, opting to concentrate on her studies. That didn't mean she hadn't enjoyed the odd snogging session with some boys in her year, he could tell from the way she responded to his kisses that she had been kissed before but he knew it had never gone any further than that into a real relationship. It made Snape feel quite smug. While he himself had only kissed her a couple of times, he doubted anyone had ever been given the opportunity to kiss her the way he had nor got the response that he had got. Snape's smirk grew even wider at the thought.
* * *
The very next night, Severus felt the familiar burning on his forearm and immediately pulled on his black robes and mask. He apparated to the place indicated in the last letter from the Death Eaters and waited for Voldemort to appear.
He was one in a crowd of around 200 people which was in sharp contrast to the thousands that used to be at these meetings. Their numbers were slowly swelling though.
Once everyone had arrived, Voldemort made his entrance looking more frighteningly vital than he had for years. As per usual, the meeting started with Voldemort's harangues regarding the necessity to weed out the mudbloods from amongst them. Snape didn't bother paying much attention until Voldemort mentioned something that made his blood run cold.
"There have been reports of a black unicorn in the Dark Forest," Voldemort was saying. "It has only been seen twice by our spies but the forest is being closely watched for another appearance of the creature. Some of you may not know that this creature is one of the few things now left on earth that can actually completely destroy me rather than merely weaken me. As such, it is imperative that this creature be caught and killed swiftly. It cannot be allowed to live! Anyone who brings me proof that this creature had been destroyed will be granted anything within my power to give with the exception of the leadership of the Death Eaters," he hissed.
Snape could feel sweat trickling down his sides inside his robes. He wanted to get back to Hermione and take her to the other side of the globe where Voldemort could not so easily get to her.
"Not much is know about the black unicorn because it is so rare," Voldemort was continuing. "So I cannot tell you how to destroy it but anyone who does accomplish this will have rewards beyond their dreams," he promised, his red eyes glowing in the half light. They were out in the open in a field, lit only by a full moon. It was not as safe as a location that they could lock themselves into but it was adequate because it was deserted and far from any town.
"Snape!" Voldemort suddenly hissed. "Where are you? Come forward." Snape came forward taking off his mask, hoping Voldemort could not smell his fear for Hermione on him. "I will charge you will this task as you are the most educated in our ranks and have the advantage of your animagus form. I want information on this creature at every meeting from now on. I want to know why it has suddenly appeared in this region, it's habits, it's powers and most importantly - I want to know how to destroy it. If you can bring me its body as proof of its death, I may even finally forgive you for your cowardly desertion from our ranks all those years ago," he sneered. "Lest you forget my wrath." he said cruelly, lifting his wand, "crucio!"
Even though Snape knew full well what was coming, it still knocked him to his knees and robbed him of his breath.
::::: * "They gaped upon me with their mouths, as a ravening and a roaring lion. I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint: my heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels. My strength is dried up like a potsherd; and my tongue cleaveth to my jaws; and thou hast brought me into the dust of death. For dogs have compassed me: the assembly of the wicked have inclosed me. I can count all my bones: they look and stare upon me. But be not thou far from me, haste thee to help me. Deliver my soul from the sword; my darling from the power of the dog. Save me from the lion's mouth: for thou hast heard me from the horns of the unicorns.":::::
It was morning before he knew where he was again and the Death Eaters had melted into the morning mist like ghosts. He was lying, soaked with dew on the heather covered ground. He could barely move from the after-effects of the crucio curse. Every time he suffered under this curse, it was like dying but actual death would be preferable. He tried to roll over, off his face but he simply couldn't. The effort made him groan aloud in agony. Even crying would hurt too much to bear, so he lay there and simply breathed and waited until he could move again without the universe convulsing in pain.
It was late the next night before he made it back to the house. He fell straight into bed.
Hermione has suspected something was wrong when Snape was missing the entire day. It simply was not like him. She was worried but not overly, as Snape always looked the type who could take care of himself. When he was still not back that night, she got slightly more worried but still didn't contact Dumbledore. She promised herself that she would owl the Head Master if Snape was not back by morning.
Around midnight, she heard a crash downstairs. She immediately got up and went down to his rooms, assuming it was Snape and he'd done something to himself. Sure enough, Snape was there but he was lying across his bed fully clothed and filthy and damp. "Professor? Are you.?" She stopped herself. That was a silly question. Of course he was not alright. Snape was not the kind of person who came home late and dirty unless there had been trouble.
"Oh Professor.. What's happened to you this time?" She breathed softly to herself and looked at him closely. His eyes were open but glazed and once again, he had no injuries. She checked his breathing and pulse - both were normal. When she touched his skin, he groaned in obvious pain. Her eyes narrowed with recognition and suddenly she understood. "Cruciatus?" Was all she said. He grunted in assent. "Okay, I'll be right back."
She went straight to Hogwarts using floo and brought Madame Pomphrey back with her, having explained what happened. Madame Pomphrey went straight to work while Hermione waited out in the sitting room area. Another long night, she predicted to herself.
* * *
Evening had fallen by the time Madame Pomphrey came out of Snape's room. Hermione took the nurse upstairs and gave her something to eat as she hadn't had a break all day.
"Is he going to be okay now?" Hermione asked, as she put a plate of food in front of the tired nurse. "I mean, is he still in pain?"
"No, he'll be fine now but he needs a good night's sleep." Madame Pomphrey replied, taking a grateful sip of the wine Hermione had given her with her meal.
"Have you had to treat him often for this?" Hermione asked quietly, looking down at the table.
Madame Pomphrey smiled sadly at the downbent head of the former Hogwarts pupil. "Yes, my dear. On quite a regular basis."
A flash of anger swept across Hermione's face but was swiftly gone. "Surely, every time this happens it must take its toll?" She murmured through compressed lips.
"I'm afraid so. Each time it takes a little longer for him to respond to my treatment. Dumbledore is on the verge of taking him off the assignment but I think Snape would continue anyway," the nurse said with a sigh.
"Yes, he would." Hermione said flatly, without hesitation.
* * *
The nurse left Snape sleeping peacefully as she headed back to Hogwarts via floo with instructions to Hermione to make Snape rest as much as possible. As though I can make Snape do anything, Hermione thought in irritation.
The next morning Snape came upstairs for breakfast looking pale, the lines on his face cut deeper than before. Hermione's face darkened in anger when she saw how weak he looked. She wanted to kick something.
She stared at him broodingly as he ate his breakfast. He studiously ignored her gaze and read a wizarding newspaper as he ate his scrambled eggs and toast. Hermione just sat there and looked at him, daring him to break the silence. Finally, once he finished eating, he did.
"It's no good staring at me like that, Hermione. I told you I wasn't taking you to one of those death traps," he said with false mildness, folding the newspaper.
"You should have," she argued directly.
He looked up at her, his dark eyes sunken further into his face and ringed with shadows. "They know about you, Hermione. Do you know what was urgent about that meeting? Voldemort's spies told him about the appearance of a black unicorn in the Dark Forest. He knows that the black unicorn is one of the few things that can finally destroy him and he's determined to destroy it first!" He snarled at her, dark eyes flashing.
"Good," Hermione said simply. "Let him be afraid. You know what? He should be," Hermione said with narrowed eyes.
Snape felt apoplectic. "Do you understand nothing, after everything you've been told?" He barked, thumping the table with one hand in frustration. "Voldemort will totally destroy you!"
"He doesn't know how," Hermione said calmly.
Snape went still. That was true, he thought. "He will find out, Hermione! Of all people, Voldemort will find out. He's offered huge rewards to anyone who destroys the black unicorn. You will be hunted, in your animagus form. You must promise me not to transform ever again," he said in a low, barely controlled voice.
"I don't do it deliberately," Hermione explained with a shrug.
"What do you mean, you don't do it deliberately?" Snape asked, with a deep frown.
"I mean that I don't have complete control over it," Hermione said honestly.
Snape stared at her in horror. "What makes you think that?" He demanded.
"Well, although I had the potion the first time and chose the timing myself then I think that I was able to transform so easily because I felt very emotional at the time," Hermione explained, not very confidently. "It was almost like, being in a highly emotional state helped me do it or even caused it in some way or at least, caused an almost irresistible urge to transform."
Snape listened carefully, trying to piece together what she was saying. "Do you think you would have succeeded in transforming if you hadn't felt very emotional the first time?" He asked.
"Yes, because of the potion but the second time I was feeling. I don't know. suffocated and by my feelings. almost like they could erupt out of me like a volcano. I suspect that each time I feel overwhelmed like that I will transform spontaneously and I won't be able to stop it," Hermione said almost apologetically knowing she wasn't explaining it very well.
Snape looked appalled. He himself knew how strong the urge to transform was when under stress but by the time he had become an animagus, he was old enough to control his emotions and thus, also when he transformed. Obviously, Hermione still being so young and a teenager as well meant that she may not be able to control her emotions enough to stop herself transforming under stress. Snape wanted to swear violently. He felt sick with terror at the threat this new insight posed to his ward.
"If you feel stressed in future Hermione, you must lock yourself into a room and try and calm down." He ordered fearfully.
Hermione knew that that would be impossible. Even from the two times she had transformed, she knew that the urge would drive her out to the Dark Forest before she even did the transformation. As a black unicorn, she felt no fear and that was an irresistible temptation when she was under stress.
She reached out her hand across the table and took Snape's hand in hers. She didn't care if he didn't like it; they both needed the comfort. His hand was as cold as ice in her warm one. She ran her thumb over the back of his hand. For all he had been gardening, his hand was still milk white against her pale brown skin. "Don't get so worried!" She said firmly but comfortingly, looking him in the eye. His hand tightened on hers and they sat that way for a long time.
(*Psalms 22:13-21)
