Echoes

Chapter 12: Christmas Part II

"Harry, please stop!" Hermione called out to Harry's blurry figure, as the swirling snow created a haze over everything.

Moments before, Harry had stormed out of the house after a fierce argument with Snape. The episode had been short but intense, after Snape had coldly informed Harry that they would all be using Avada Kedavra. Snape had offered no explanation, feeling that none was necessary. At Hogwarts, Snape's philosophy had always been that students were to do as they were told, without questioning; and given the menacing way in which he commanded his class, few students ever ventured to disobey. Harry, however, was not one to blindly follow orders, especially ones given by Snape.

Vicious names and accusations were exchanged, but neither Snape nor Harry made any effort to listen. By the end, hatred was thick in the room, and Hermione was equally frustrated with both men.

Harry must have heard her call to him, for he stopped, his back towards her.

As she approached him, the frigid snow blew past her exposed hands and face and bit into her slacks and sweater.

She cautiously reached up and touched his shoulder, pleading, "Please come back inside. You'll freeze out here."

Harry remained rigid and unmoving, as if he did not hear. Cautiously, Hermione continued, "I'm sure there was good reason behind Snape's behavior."

This time, her statement provoked a response, though not the one she had hoped for.

Harry turned sharply and spat, "Why the hell are you defending him?"

Harry glared at her, and Hermione was forced to look away in guilt. In the past, she had always argued Snape's innocence, but now she questioned the motivation behind her words.

She heard, but did not watch as Harry argued, "Hermione, he's a former Death Eater. Who knows why he broke away from Voldemort? But I doubt it was because he suddenly had a change of heart. He's obviously still interested in the Dark Arts."

Hermione replied weakly and not very convincingly, "Dumbledore trusts him." She paused and looked at him, "and we should trust Dumbledore."

Harry's face contorted, and his voice shook, "Hermione, I was there when my parents and Cedric died from the Killing Curse. Do you know how hard it is for me to watch it being used on any creature?" His hand clutched his sweater as he cried, "I still have nightmares of their deaths. I can't do it, and having Snape berate me for it doesn't help."

Though his anger had visibly lessened, the emotion was replaced by equally strong feelings of pain, prompting Hermione to hug him. Harry's arms wrapped so tightly around her that, for an instant, she could not breathe.

As Harry held onto her, his shoulders heaved up and down with harsh breaths. The wind whipped past them, yet Hermione felt nothing but concern for her friend. Slowly, his respiration became more regular, and they parted slightly. Although he was more composed, there was still anguish on his face, and Hermione could not be certain if the tears in his eyes were from the wind or emotions, but she suspected they were from a bit of both.

He looked so distraught; Hermione could feel her throat tighten and could no longer look at him. Her eyes diverted to the darkness just beyond his shoulder, and she stood silently shaking from the cold. The wind howled and swirled snow around her feet, yet she remained motionless, until she saw movement out of the corner of her eye.

When she glanced back to Harry, she saw that he had turned toward the cabin, and, with a heavy heart, she began trudging through the snow behind him.

She followed him into the house, careful not to say anything until they were safely inside. They stood in awkward silence within the warmth of the foyer, until at last; Hermione cleared her throat and asked gently, "Do you want to go play chess or something?"

Harry sighed, shaking his head. "I understand what you're trying to do Hermione, but I just want to be alone right now," he pleaded.

Hermione nodded reluctantly.

And, crossing his arms, he left her standing alone, his feet clunking with each heavy step up the stairs.

Her talk with Harry had left her feeling sick and cold, and she would have gladly spent the rest of Christmas hiding under her blankets. However, she knew that Snape would have to be faced eventually; and now, with Harry away, was her best opportunity.

Her frozen arms and face began to tingle and sting as they warmed, and the sensations combined with her dread, as she walked down the hallway to Snape's rooms.

She absently rubbed feeling into her arm, as her mind resolved to stay calm and controlled. Hermione knew that both Harry and Snape were stubborn men, yet in this case, both had the best of intentions. The reasons behind Harry's strong reactions had been easy to empathize with, but Snape's cold demeanor was so engrained within his personality that he would be more difficult to understand.

Standing in front of the door, she hesitated, gathering her courage and rapped quickly. In an instant, the door glided open, and she cautiously entered his rooms, knowing full well the mood in which she would likely find Snape.

With each step down to the laboratory, the temperature dropped. Though the lower level was cooler than the rest of the house, the air still burned her skin, and her mind raced trying to formulate something appropriate with which to begin their conversation.

Hermione did not have to worry about saying anything, as Snape's voice echoed against the stone walls, before she even reached the bottom of the stairs. "I see Potter is still off pouting."

She took a deep breath realizing that this conversation would indeed be difficult. Gathering as much confidence as she could muster, she flatly stated, "You're being unfair, Severus." She also thought he was being an ass, but refrained from expressing that out loud.

"Am I? How so?" He asked in his most sarcastic tone.

"I never said that your intentions were wrong, but you can't order someone like Harry around. He doesn't trust you, and you're not making it very easy for him to trust you."

Snape huffed at her words, but made no further attempt to argue.

Slowly, Hermione reached out her arm, running her fingers down the side of his black robe. Expressionless eyes looked down at her, and Hermione became very uncertain as to her next move.

After several minutes of strained silence, she calmly made a request. "Please don't push this. I will talk to Harry, but don't expect him to help," Hermione warned.

"But you will help?" He asked, his eyes turning away from her.

"Yes," she simply answered.

Hermione knew his work was truly important, and regardless of her apprehension, she had to help.

He gave a quick, half nod, and a small shiver ran through her.

Hermione realized that she wanted his recognition and approval as well. Snape was a difficult man to please, and therefore his acknowledgement was significant, but that was not her reason. She knew this need had grown with her affection for him.

With this knowledge, she examined his hard features, hoping to catch a glimpse of emotion, but rather saw him stiffly reach into his robes and place a small box on the work table.

"Here."

Hermione's head shot up in surprise, but their eyes did not meet, as his were quite focused on the scrolls in front of him.

"You got me a Christmas present," she asked incredulously.

"As you see," he replied, shuffling the papers around.

Hermione laughed as she pulled out a small round clock surrounded by a thin golden triangle, whose open side acted as a pendant on a long chain.

"I thought it would keep you from stealing my watch again." There was a hint of playfulness in his words that Hermione had never heard before.

She touched the watch pondering how much little things can mean, and slid it over her head, tucking it under her sweater.

She was pulled from her thoughts by Snape returning their conversation to the matter at hand.

"I've been calculating the survival rate from my latest experiments, and the new potion looks promising," he explained dryly. "Eighty percent of the subjects lived more than five minutes, and thirty percent survived. Though I've only tested the potion on lower species, the results should be similar with humans."

"How is that possible? Your progress has been amazing!" She exclaimed and grabbed the scroll from him, scrutinizing his results with disbelief. In the past few days, his success rate had more than doubled.

"The Antipodean works as a general protectant, which alone does little. However, I've found that it has restorative effects when used in combination with several volatile ingredients."

Excitement became apparent in his voice as Snape continued, "The Aconite and Opaleye work together as a pawn, fooling the Curse. Avada Kedavra activates the ingredients, shutting down all bodily functions the instant before the Killing Curse hits. By doing so, the Spell has nothing to kill. The effect lasts only a fraction of a second; lasting for the duration of the Curse, yet preventing any permanent damage by reactivating the subject's heart soon after."

"So what happens when the potion fails?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Unfortunately, each subject appears to require a different dosage, and I have not as of yet determined how to calculate that properly."

He looked at her earnestly, "And so you see the problem. It would hardly be prudent to use the potion in its current state. In fact, unless we can increase the survival rate to 90% or higher with few side effects, I would not venture to use the potion."

He continued more cautiously, "I believe a few alterations will improve the results significantly, but I will need to gather as much data as possible."

Hermione sighed, "What do you want me to do?"

He strode over to the side table, and Hermione heard metal clanking as he worked with the traps.

When he returned, he set down one of the cages. Hermione watched as a single mouse scurried around.

He gestured at the cage and directed plaintively, "You must focus all your energy at the creature, wishing it dead."

Hermione responded nervously, "I don't think I can hate a little mouse enough to work the Curse."

He waved his hand dismissively at her concern, "You shouldn't use any emotion to perform the Spell. The Curse doesn't respond to hate or passion. Rather, cold, emotionless control is needed. Avada Kedavra, like people, is most dangerous when there are no emotions attached."

He crossed his arms, staring down at her as he explained, "Imagine the creature dead, lying motionless. Visualize your wand reaching out an invisible hand, cracking its neck."

Hermione tried to focus, but her mind was clouded by sleep. In addition, she found that emotional detachment in this situation was more difficult than raw hatred. She could have more easily attached her intense loathing for Voldemort to the mouse, imagining his face in its place. Now though, she had to remain unfeeling, yet wish the mouse dead. Her eyes focused on the furry little creature, which was standing on its hind legs, belly to her. Its watery black eyes and little whiskers twitched as it sniffed curiously, crying innocence to Hermione. Her mind and emotions became so distracted by the poor thing's adorable features that only a splatter of green escaped her wand, dissipating before ever reaching its intended target.

Snape let out an annoyed breath as he chided, "You need to concentrate. It's only a pathetic mouse," and with that his hand went and physically broke the creatures neck, dead.

If Snape had meant to encourage Hermione though his action, he had succeeded in the opposite as a sickness began to creep into her soul. Her feelings were soothed little by Snape's cold response.

"Hermione, regardless if it is by your hand or mine, the rodents are sentenced to death. We need them for the experiment. That is what they are there for."

Throughout the violent scene, Hermione had held her breath in shock, so that as she came to her senses, she gasped for air. When she finally spoke, her words were high-pitched and shaky. "I know. I understand the reality of the situation." She suddenly felt very weak and had to steady herself by leaning against the table.

Snape's expression changed into something Hermione would almost call concern, as if suddenly realizing his mistake; but before he could speak, she had turned away, muttering, "I need to go back to my room and sleep for a while." She felt his hand gently swipe her long hair as she left.

Though the Spell had been unsuccessful, it had drained what little energy she had, so that her feet dragged on the floor, and each step she ascended out of the laboratory became an exercise in will power.

When she returned to her room, she absently undressed leaving all but her panties on the floor and quickly threw on a night shirt, ignoring several of the buttons. As her fingers awkwardly closed her shirt, her pendant became entangled in a button hole. Hermione carefully removed the necklace, placing it carefully on her nightstand. As she did so, her thoughts drifted to Snape.

Tonight, she had witnessed his heartless, cold side that she feared. Hermione had always known Snape had a dark side, and his harsh mannerisms only emphasized this character flaw. However, she had reasoned that the glimpses of warmth and caring he had shown her had been closer to his real self. Now she worried that she had been mistaken, and it scared her.

She lightly touched the watch, confused by these opposite, but equally intense feelings. Hermione decided that analyzing any of her emotions, while in this weakened state, would be futile, and so she pushed her feelings away. Weakly, she crawled into bed and soon succumbed to her exhaustion.

Sometime in her dream state, a warm, nude body curled up behind her. His long, thin torso fit perfectly against her small frame. She shifted slightly, feeling the hair on his legs brush against her bare thighs, and her eyes opened slightly.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, still groggy from sleep.

"Am I not allowed in your room?" He murmured in feigned surprise.

"It's not that," she answered, her voice slightly hoarse. "I meant, how did you get in?"

Snape's arm came around her waist and slid under her night shirt. His hand spread across her small stomach and pushed her closer to him, allowing her to feel how much he wanted her.

"Do you really think I would allow any room in this house to be inaccessible to me? I made sure that the wards would not affect me." His voice was soft, but dangerous, and Hermione's body tingled with desire at its silky texture.

His hand moved up to caress her breast, as his face buried in her hair.

Hermione moaned softly, and Snape replied, "I'm glad to see I am still welcome in your bed."

"Hmm. I was rather upset," Hermione admitted, not mentioning the worry and confusion that continued to haunt her. Instead, she reasoned, "I was exhausted and emotional from my talk with Harry." She felt compelled to add, "Though breaking that poor creature's neck was not the best way to prove your point."

"Agreed," he breathed out warmly, and his hand moved down, slowly gliding across her sensitive skin to her panties. As his fingers explored, she instinctively arched her back, and he groaned into her hair.

Hermione could feel her mouth go dry as she gasped, and a rapid pulse beat through her body.

She moaned in pleasure, prompting him to move his groin against her.

A moment too soon, his fingers moved away from her, causing a small whimper of protest to escape her lips.

The retreat was only temporary, as he quickly removed her underwear. Hermione arched her back, and he entered her deeply from behind. Bringing his fingers round again, he began rubbing her smoothly and delicately between her thighs.

And soon, they were moving together. Slow long strides at first, building to short, quick thrusts, until they exploded together. Moments later, they intertwined in each others warm, damp bodies, breaths rapidly, taking in air.

They stayed lying against each other for sometime. Snape's fingers twitched against her waist as his hand hung lip over her hip bone. Gradually, Hermione felt Snape's heart rate and respiration return to normal.

Hermione began to slide away from him, but Snape's arm tightened around her, preventing her from moving very far.

She hesitated, feeling his body around her.

"I have something for you," she whispered.

He allowed her escape from his embrace, and she leaned over across him to retrieve his present from under the bed. As she bent down, his attention focused on her bare backside, and his hands fondled and teased her, sending small sparks of pleasure through her body.

She easily found the package, but paused to allow his attentions to continue. When she finally sat up, handing him the box, he seemed much more interested in eyeing her body, as it peeked through the sloppily buttoned shirt, than at opening his present.

She motioned anxiously to the box, and he reluctantly opened it to reveal two large translucent marbles.

"You gave me paper weights," he said incredulously, raising his dark eyebrows.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "They're stress balls. I thought you could use them. You're always so tense." And she straddled him, leaning forward to kiss him lightly on the lips.

Backing away, she picked up one of the marbles, meaning to place it on his shoulder.

His eyes darkened, and his shoulders tensed as her hand approached his neck. The moment she released her grip, Snape flinched, so that the ball rolled to the bed.

"Hermione, it was a nice gesture, but I think they will suit my needs much better as paper weights."

"They won't bite," Hermione replied, slightly annoyed by his childish fears.

"Biting is the least of my fears," Snape muttered, rubbing his throat.

Obviously, he did not trust her nearly as much as his words this morning had implied.

"Give me your hand," she commanded. "If you think they are awful, the marbles can sit on your desk, and I will not complain. But you must at least try."

She picked up one of the translucent orbs and placed it gently on the back of his hand.

Immediately, the sphere melted into a glob and three extensions molded out, kneading his skin.

Snape watched the sphere's movements suspiciously, but after a few minutes, reluctantly replied, "It is not unpleasant, I suppose." He paused and smiled wickedly, "but I would rather watch," and he kissed her gently, his weight pushing her down on the bed.

As he did so, his hand ran along the inside of her thigh, placing the spheres on her very sensitive area. Hermione gasped as the marbles molded into small hands, teasing her. Snape lifted his head just enough to comfortably stare into her eyes, and he watched her reactions to the spheres' movements.

Without taking his eyes off her, his fingers crept up to her shirt, adeptly undoing the buttons. He smoothly pushed the sides of her night shirt away, his head slowly moving closer to her bare flesh. His mouth teased her breast, licking and nipping in sensual motions.

As his hands moved down to her stomach, Hermione's senses became overwhelmed by the many attentive caresses, and she cried out passionately. Snape engulfed her cry in a deep kiss, which turned into a warm embrace as she drifted off to sleep.

That night, as Hermione slept enfolded in Snape's arms, she experienced the most vivid dream.

It was sunny and warm, and she was barefoot, running along a shoreline in search of something. She wasn't sure what, but she knew she would find it here. The pale sky and sand reflected the bright sun, forcing her to squint to see. The land was quiet, but for the waves gently splashing against the shore. As she ran, she could feel the soft sand tickle her toes and the gentle breeze play against her face and neck.

Something fluttered over head, and she looked up to see lovely golden feathers glistening in the sun. The bird soared in a large circle above her, and she knew it was significant. Suddenly, the bird jetted away from the water to a nearby tree line. She followed the large golden bird as it led her away from the beach, through dense trees and foliage, finally perching on a limb deep with in the forest.

She didn't know why she had followed the creature, but she understood that it was important.

The bird eyed her suspiciously, and they examined each other in silence. The creature was a question to be answered, a mystery to be solved. Its beak opened wide, and a loud shriek sounded, so fierce that her ears stung. She wanted to cover her head, but her arms would not move. She slowly realized that the sound was not coming from the bird at all, but from somewhere outside, somewhere real.

She was jolted awake by a sharp push, and before she could move, Snape's voice urgently commanded, "Get dressed, now." Her eyes shot open in confusion, and she soon discovered the whole house was screeching loudly.

"What's happened?" Hermione gasped coming to her senses.

She was greeted by her worst fear as Snape replied, rushing to the fireplace, "Someone has breached the perimeter."