Author's Note: Somehow I doubt you'll like the end of this chapter...
Chapter 8 - Dreams and Reality
He stepped forward and spread his wings. It felt great, the wind blowing through the feathers, the sun warming them. He saw the people around him, looking in wonder, but he did not care. He started running, running, running. The people ran as well, frightened by his eighteen feet of wings. He moved his wings up and down, up and down, up and down… and took off. For years, he had not dared even to spread his wings, let alone fly, but finally he once again felt the wind through his hair, his feathers, his clothes. It is great to fly. If humans could fly, he thought, and he didn't mean flying with airplanes and stuff, no, if humans could really fly like angels, there wouldn't be any war, any fighting. Just the feeling of the wind, all around you, the floating in the air. It is just you, you, you and the elements.
Then, suddenly, he was surrounded. In mid-air, he was surrounded by angels, appearing out of thin air. They grabbed him, he tried to fight them, he had to fight them. He knew what they wanted, they wanted his joy, his glory… his wings. Too many had seen him, had had to run for his rage. And now he had to pay the price. The price: one set of wings. Not bird-wings, not plane-wings, but angel-wings. They grabbed him, they grabbed his wings. He was held, still floating in mid-air, supported by tens, hundreds, thousands of angels. The sky turned dark as angelic law was obeyed. They started to pull out his feathers, one by one, every single feather. And as a feather was pulled out, he felt a pang, like a stab with the sharpest knife. Thousands of feathers, thousands of agonizing pangs, stabs, worse even than crucio. It seemed to last hours, day's maybe. Then they stopped, they ran out of feathers. But as they stopped pulling out feathers, the pangs remained. He wrinkled, wrinkled to get free, but they still got hold of him. They got hold of him, of the remainders of his wings, pathetic pieces of flesh and bone, useless without the feathers. They grabbed the remainders and let go of his arms and legs. Then they pulled, pulled, pulled. He felt agony, felt them tear the pathetic remainders of his wings right off his body. He was in agony, he felt the wings tear away and fell. He fell, right down to Earth, down, down, down, down…
"Working all night again, professor?"
He woke up with a sleeping arm and a stiff neck. He had tried to work through the night again, trying to forget what the girl had said. In the end, he had fallen asleep in one of the library chairs. When he had awoken completely – the dream had left him a little confused – he saw the girl sit in the other chair, eyeing him absorbedly. He decided to just stare back.
"No, Hermione, as you can see I finally fell asleep." He moved the tome that had cut off the blood flow to his left hand.
"Did you find anything of interest?" she asked.
"Nothing we didn't already find out. We will have to use the knowledge we have," he admitted.
"If we make the Inner Poison today, the complete poison is ready. The sooner the better I think. Can you use your hand again?" the girl asked. Severus was slightly irritated by this, but it occurred to him it could be mere interest, coming from her.
"I think I can." He flexed his fingers, which caused the new pink-coloured skin to stretch irritably.
After a necessary cup of coffee, accompanied by an anti-muscle ache potion, they went down to the laboratory. He noticed she had cleared away the cauldron with lethifold venom and cleaned the floor and table as well, where now only small holes were silent proof of the accident. He saw a row of small vials filled with the near-black oily fluid that was the venom.
"Well done, Hermione," he thought silently, while preparing a cauldron for the inner poison. They worked together wordlessly, she cutting ingredients, he stirring the contents of the cauldron with his uninjured hand.
-^-^-
With his usual mind-reading ability, Albus Dumbledore seemed to have known the poison was ready. Instead of sending Fawkes, he visited himself in the evening.
"The poison is ready, isn't it?" he asked first thing when he came in. Severus looked at Hermione inquiringly, only to find she wore a similar expression. She shook her head, meaning she hadn't contacted the Headmaster in any way.
"It is, Albus," Severus acknowledged. He summoned one vial of it and explained what they had done, neither exaggerating nor underestimating the girls work. Albus looked at her admiringly, but his expression changed with Severus' next question.
"Have you got any idea as to when..." he did not finish his sentence as Albus was shaking his head, looking weary.
"Then you have no information at all?" questioned Hermione. Again the aged wizard shook his head. She didn't speak, but seemed to ponder what to say next. Severus spoke first.
"Albus, I want to fight," he said softly. The girl nodded in approval. The Headmaster looked him straight in the eyes. "Nobody will believe my true allegiances if I do not."
The bright blue eyes shone brightly, but whether with tears or approval Severus couldn't say.
"They will kill you on first sight," Albus said.
"As they would with either of you, with Potter, the entire Weasley family, Minerva..." Severus summed up.
"In short, as they would with anyone who openly acknowledges and opposes them, isn't it, Sev – Professor?" the girl asked, correcting herself quickly to keep up decorum. The Headmaster seemed to have noticed her slip nevertheless, for he was now positively beaming. He didn't choose to comment on it, though. Severus nodded.
"I want to fight too," she said. "I want to be the threat he thinks me. I want to see him suffer by our hands, like so many suffered by his." When Dumbledore looked disapprovingly, she added, "I bet I'd fight as well as every seventh year student. Harry will fight; he has to. Ron would never let him go alone. I won't let him go alone." Again the ancient wizard looked weary.
"I see the two of you are quite determined," Albus said with a feeling for understatement.
"That leaves me with two options: prohibiting or relenting." Severus opened his mouth to protest. The Headmaster raised his hand and continued.
"It would be only too easy for me to promise to summon you and 'forget' it in the commotion. I won't do that. Severus, you know Voldemort best, how much you may repent it. Would he come to kill you, if it were to leak out where you are?" Severus nodded without further explanation.
"I expected as much," the old man confirmed. "Then, if you insist on fighting, we will use both of you as a bait. If we drop a hint in front of a probable Death Eater, the news will travel soon enough. It is time we take our fate in our own hands," he concluded while rising. "I will let you know the details." The old man bowed and Disapparated.
"Finally," he heard the girl sigh. "We get to fight!"
-^-^-
Next morning, he was first to enter the breakfast parlour for his usual mug of coffee. When the girl joined him, he could see in her whole appearance she had something to ask.
"What is it, Hermione?" he asked her, forcing her to get it over and done with.
"Professor, I wanted to ask you a favour," she started, using his title again instead of his given name. "If we are to fight..." she began a sentence, but corrected herself.
"Could you give me some duelling practice?" she blurted out. When he didn't react instantaneously, she continued, "You know, the duelling club in my second year didn't prove exactly useful." No, he thought, the only thing Lockhart learned you is how to drop your wand.
"And as we will probably be fighting Death Eaters... I mean as opposed to Voldemort himself..." she trailed off now, apparently not knowing what to say next.
"Right, Hermione. I will teach you how to duel properly. Everything is allowed, except Unforgivables. Shall we use the garden to practise in?"
-^-^-
The garden was quite large, featuring several large terraces and surrounded by a large hedge. They chose the largest terrace and moved the furniture, then moved until they stood facing each other. They bowed and Severus counted silently to three. Then he pointed his wand and cast Serpensortia, while she screamed, "Protego!" He took the opportunity to conjure some more snakes, while she kept up her shield. Eventually, she got distracted and scared, which made her cast Expelliarmus to him. Years of practise had given him quick reflexes, and with a Shield Charm of his own he reflected her Disarming Spell. Her wand flew high through the air and he caught it neatly. He made the snakes disappear before he walked over to her and handed her wand back.
"There you are," he said, using his teaching voice automatically. "You made one major mistake. Have you got any idea?" She nodded, but he answered his own question immediately.
"You used a Shield Charm unnecessarily. That drains your powers and doesn't work against snakes." He saw her stifle a grin but didn't comment. He could guess what she had been thinking.
"Shall we try again?" he asked while walking to his previous position. They bowed again and counted to three.
This time he started with Expelliarmus. She, however, cast Tarantallegra and hit. Wordlessly cursing, he muttered the countercharm and managed to get his legs under control again. When he looked up, she appeared to have conjured a few snakes of her own. He cast, the only logical option, Vipera Evanesca a few times in quick succession. Then he cast Impedimenta on her. A harsh measure, but not nearly as harsh as the Full Body-bind. He saw from her face she knew the countercurse, but couldn't move fast enough to cast it. He cast another Expelliarmus and deftly caught her wand, then muttered the countercurse himself.
-^-^-
After a day of intense duelling, they had a much more enjoyable dinner than usual. He was tired, he admitted, and that made him lower his guard. This way, she got more answers out of him than he otherwise would have given. She asked about Potions she had read about, and he answered, again surprised because of her knowledge. Then she took him by surprise.
"Why are you always so unpleasant in class?" He flinched, not too visibly he hoped.
"I beg your pardon?" He asked, more to gain time than anything else.
"I should have thought you'd understand so simple a question," she retorted.
"Did you think I try to stuff the otherwise empty heads of a bunch of teenagers with knowledge because I like it? Or because of my good heart? Or for the sake of the new generation?" He asked. "Rest assured. I loathe teaching, and I am only doing it to do Albus a favour." To his surprise, she nodded. She must have seen his look, for she answered.
"I can understand." The look didn't change. She continued, "You know, I try to get Harry and Ron to study, and Neville keeps asking me questions. Sometimes I'd rather just snap at them to shut up and do it themselves for a change."
"Are you confessing you help those... friends of yours? Then I won't try to imagine their marks without your help. It would probably be in negative numbers." She laughed.
"No, I do not actually help them. But you know how I am. If I'm asked a question, I can't not answer it. Most of the time I just give them a reference, though." Now it was his turn to laugh. She shot him an enquiring look, just as she had done when he chuckled. Then she joined in, and her higher laugh mingled pleasantly with his.
"Yes, I think I know how you are by now. Do you remember your first Potions lesson?" She nodded. "Of course, I didn't really expect Mr. Potter, or anyone, to be able to answer the questions. But you almost reached the ceiling, so high you raised your hand at the possibility of answering questions." She nodded again and smiled, but looked down almost immediately.
"How about that time when you took over Professor Lupins class? Did you mean it back then?" She sounded curious, but anxious as well.
"You mean the 'insufferable know-it-all' I called you. Yes, I meant it... back then. You were about to reveal Professor Lupin being a werewolf to your classmates. I had wanted them to find out themselves, but they're almost as stupid as a Muggle facing a flying broomstick. It could laugh them in the face without them noticing." She laughed.
"Nobody would have expected Professor Lupin to be a werewolf. And that while they expect you to be a vampire."
"How are you so sure I am not?" He asked. She shot upright and raised her left hand, indicating her index finger with her right.
"For one, you are..." He motioned her to stop.
"I didn't ask for an answer. I know I am not a vampire, unlike 'public opinion'. That essay of Lupin's didn't exactly contradict said public opinion, though." She giggled. He spoke sternly.
"You just gave a perfect example of why you can be such an annoying student sometimes." Her giggle died away. He laughed softly.
"You know, Severus?" When he didn't answer, she continued. "You should really laugh more. It makes you years younger."
-^-^-
Two weeks of duelling – when the weather allowed it, otherwise they would be in the library or the laboratory - did a lot of good for her duelling techniques, Severus thought one morning during breakfast, though he wouldn't say that. Yet.
She had actually succeeded in Stunning him one or two times. They had agreed that Stunning would be the equivalent of the Killing Curse, and she had already lost more lives than most cats possess.
Another thing the duelling had done was radically alter their... well, relationship would be the only word for it. Of course, a sense of mutual trust was necessary when practising duelling techniques, especially as someone Stunned had to be Ennervated as well.
"Professor?" she asked.
"Call me Severus," he answered, slightly wondering what she would call him Professor for. Expecting some enquiry about a hex or something, he took a sip of his coffee.
"Cast Crucio on me." He had expected a declaration of ardent love more than this. He choked on his coffee, which caused him nearly to cough out his intestines. When he thought he could talk again without spitting out his coffee, he answered her.
"No." She looked downcast.
"But I need to know!" He shook his head. "Severus, I. Need. To. Know. When we're fighting Death Eaters, they won't be careful with me, won't they?" He just continued shaking his head.
"They won't be careful, no. If they don't kill you... us straight away, we will certainly get our share. But I will not cast the curse on you. It has no use, there is no way of fighting it. You can only endure." He must accidentally have let some of his feelings show on his face. He had to put his guards back up, and soon too.
"Are you... you have been put under the Curse many times, haven't you?" He nodded, again, now without trying to hide his feelings. She came over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Severus, I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry..." He tried to regain his composure. Indeed, he could never have cast Crucio on the girl. It had been a long time since he had cast the curse without a feeling of great reluctance. At the time, he had had to hold on for the sake of his cover. And with her, it was even different. He had now seen the mind behind the essays, the talent behind the marks. He had seen certain... similarities between the two of them.
And she had kissed him.
-^-^-
They were sitting in the library, another evening after dinner. She was reading a book called Creative Curses, absentmindedly muttering incantations aloud and practising appropriate wrist movements, while he was reading up on one of the latest issues of Potions and Poisons. Suddenly Lizzy stormed in, clearly panicking and out of breath.
"Master! Miss! Come! Strange man... Dining room..." the elf panted. Severus shot Hermione a look and saw her looking back at him determinedly. They took their wands from their sleeves and hurried to the dining room as fast as they could. On entering, Hermione almost dropped her wand.
"Ron?" she gasped. "What? Where...?" Her questions were smothered when the redhead embraced her, thereby pulling her face so close to his chest that Severus wondered how she would be able to breathe.
Apparently, she wasn't, for after a few seconds she pushed him away rather awkwardly. That was the moment the Headmaster chose to appear. Pretending not to notice, she repeated her questions.
"Ron, what are you doing here? Where is Harry?" Weasley looked miserable at that, but was silent. The Headmaster took over.
"Sit down, Severus, Hermione, Ronald." He looked gravely at each of them in turn. They sat around the dining table, the boy next to Hermione, Severus and Albus on the other side of the table. Dumbledore ordered tea from Lizzy, but still hadn't said anything about the matter. Severus felt a sense of foreboding and the girl looked equally worried. It didn't surprise him, then, when the ancient wizard spoke.
"The Boy Who Lived, lives no longer."