Cloak of Courage Chapter 19, a harry potter fanfic

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. The Call of the Blood and the concepts associated with it are my creations – please email me if you wish to use them or a derivative of them in a story.

Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.
Warning: This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.

Cloak of Courage

WendyNat

Chapter 19

~~~~~~~~

"Oh, that's right. The Call of the Blood."

Hermione sat, stunned, as Ginny casually pulled out her wand and cleaned up the butterbeer spreading across the table.

"You ought to be more careful, Hermione."

"How… what… I…"

Ginny smiled slightly. "I assumed Professor Snape would've discussed it with you – you live with him, after all."

Hermione shook her head. "But… you… how did you-" Hermione stopped, irritated at her own inability to articulate anything. But it was such a shock…

Ginny's casual expression hardened for a moment. "Tom."

Blood magic. It was one of Tom's favorite things…

The diary. Of course. But how much did Ginny know? How much could she know? Ginny began to speak, as if hearing Hermione's unspoken question. Her voice was low to avoid eavesdroppers.

"I learned a lot from him. I don't remember any of it in specifics… it's in flashes – an image here, a phrase there… it's the emotions I remember more. What Tom felt, when he thought about certain things…" Ginny trailed off and stared down at her butterbeer. "He possessed me, used me to perform the blood magic…"

"Mrs. Norris," Hermione breathed. "The warning… written in blood…"

Ginny nodded. "It was a blood ritual. It was supposed to create fear and suspicion. I… fought against him… he wanted me to use human blood, but I couldn't…" Ginny's voice grew harsh and she stopped for a moment, clearing her throat before continuing. "Near the end, he wasn't just possessing me anymore. We were the same person. I don't know how many people really realized that. We shared the same life energy… mine… until Harry killed him, of course. Well, until Harry destroyed the diary… it was the link."

"Gods, Ginny…"

Ginny shrugged. "I should be grateful, really. What I learned from him… what I felt, through him, from the Call… well. It's one of the things that kept me from turning to the Dark Arts after Ron was killed. I would have been tempted, otherwise."

Hermione froze in her chair, unable to meet the redhead's eyes. The conversations around them rose and fell in a normal rhythm, blissfully unaware of the dark discussion occurring between the two young witches in the corner. "So you learned… you learned about the Call from Tom, then. From the diary. But he was still young when that was made, was he already-"

"Already. He learned it when he was young… I don't know how young. Studied it on his own, made some… friends… that helped him learn the blood magics. But then… I got the feeling that something happened. Maybe they tried to betray him? I don't know. Anyway, I know that afterwards he swore that any of his followers would answer to the Call and would pledge Blood Loyalty."

"Blood Loyalty?"

"I told you, I don't know all the details, Hermione – I can remember a flash in my mind, a picture when he thought about it. Two parallel scars on someone's right side." Hermione sucked in her breath and she kept her face even with an effort.

Two parallel scars on someone's right side.

An image of Severus flashed in her mind, an image of the line of parallel scars running down his right side… she remembered asking about them, and hearing his curt answer. There are many blood rituals. Many blood magics.

But there were four scars on his right side, she was sure of it. What did it mean? Was it still from a Blood Loyalty pledge, or something else?

Realizing she had been silent too long, she shook the image from her head and looked up at Ginny. The redhead was watching her speculatively. Finally finding her voice, Hermione asked, "What… what does it do? The Blood Loyalty?"

Ginny's eyes flicked to the crowded room before answering in a low voice. "I only saw images from Tom. But Remus told me-"

"Remus? You talked to Remus about this?"

Ginny shook her head, upper lip curling slightly. "Merlin, Hermione, for someone so smart… the most powerful dark wizard in the world possessed me, made me perform blood rituals and… and other acts, and then shared my life energy. Do you really think Dumbledore just let me go on my merry way after all of that?"

Hermione blinked and shook her head. "I… I never really thought about it, I guess. I didn't think-"

"No one did," Ginny bit out. The two were silent for a moment. Finally, Ginny let out a breath. "It's… no one was supposed to know, Hermione. It's all right. Anyway, after that… incident… I saw Dumbledore quite a bit. He'd visit the Burrow, that summer. And then the next school year, when Professor Lupin came, I saw him. Talked to him weekly." Ginny averted her eyes again. "I… I still do talk to him. Sometimes. When I need to. He's… Remus is very open. And he knows a lot about it – the Dark Arts, the effects."

"Like a counselor…" Hermione murmured. Ginny looked at her oddly and Hermione shook her head. "Muggle thing, sorry. Just someone to talk things over with, that type of thing."

"Oh. Well, anyway, the little snippets I got from Tom's images and feelings, I asked Remus about them. Some of it he couldn't – or wouldn't – tell me, but other stuff… like the Blood Loyalty…" Her voice trailed off.

Hermione cleared her throat. "What… what did he say about it, Ginny?"

"It's a way of pledging loyalty, a binding pledge. I think the penalties are… severe. The person pledging promises not to draw the other's blood or kill them – those are the two cuts. I guess with Avada Kedavra just pledging not to draw blood isn't quite enough." It was chilling how matter-of-fact the young witch sounded as she described the dark blood ritual.

"Right. That… that makes sense." Hermione's mind raced, considering the implications. No wonder the Dark Lord allowed his Death Eaters to remain armed in his presence… that had always seemed rather risky of him. And Severus did mention that the new recruits had to surrender their wands before approaching the Dark Lord. Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat, thinking of Adrian Pucey.

"Remus didn't tell me much about the Call of the Blood. Everything I know - everything I feel - about that came from… from Tom. I remember his… satisfaction… when he saw blood, touched it… made me touch it." Ginny's eyes were downcast. "Damn him. I wish Remus would tell me more, but he won't."

"Remus probably doesn't know much," Hermione said hollowly. Ginny looked at her oddly.

"Hermione – what do you know? How much do you know?"

"Too much." Hermione warred with herself. It would be a relief, to tell someone else… someone who could possibly understand, who could give her some perspective on the situation, without guilty feelings overtaking her. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, on the brink of confiding in her friend, when Ginny put a hand over hers.

"Hermione. I won't judge you. You should know that."

Hermione stared into her friend's eyes and saw the truth in them. With a jolt, she realized she literally saw the truth in them… Severus had mentioned that with their intense training, she may be able to perform Legilimency – at least in a rudimentary manner – without a lot of practice. Mesmerized by the clear blue stare and her own revelation, Hermione began to talk.

Her voice failed her on occasion, and she purposefully did not explain the Call in detail, but the vast relief she felt as the words tumbled out of her mouth was invigorating. Ginny listened quietly, occasionally squeezing her hand when her voice caught, and when she was done Ginny sat back and stared at her in silence for long moments with a compassionate expression.

"I had wondered… Hermione, I'm so sorry all this happened. I'm glad… so glad, that Snape stopped you that night. Gods, when I think of what could have happened…"

"I'm glad you're not… condemning me-"

Ginny shook her head emphatically. "How could I? The only reason I wasn't tempted to do the same is what I learned from Tom… the dangers… oh, Hermione."

Hermione smiled slightly. "I'm fine. I still feel it sometimes, the lure, but it's not… it's not overwhelming." Ginny nodded and with one last squeeze, released her hand.

"I wondered why the original plan for you was changed."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "How do you know-"

Ginny grinned. "Extendable ears… Mum thinks when Fred and George aren't around she doesn't have to ward against eavesdroppers as carefully." Hermione chuckled briefly and Ginny smiled. A moment later, she continued in a serious tone, "I heard them talking, the night after… after the funeral. Dumbledore, Mum and Dad, Snape. The older boys were out, but I was up in my room… they must have thought I was asleep. I heard them talking about Beauxbatons and it sounded like a done deal."

"Oh." Hermione sat back. "It was, I think, from what Severus told me. But then… well. Severus knew, somehow… he won't tell me, but he knew that I was reading and studying. He must have seen me leave, or maybe they had set the wards to sense me leaving the castle… I was on my way to-" Hermione stopped short, unsure if Ginny knew about Viktor. Deciding to keep that bit of information private, she smoothly continued, "-to learn more. Hogwarts doesn't have any of the truly dark books in the library."

Ginny gave her a knowing look, appearing perfectly aware that she had changed what she was about to say. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when the redhead politely did not question her further.

In tacit agreement, they steered the conversation to lighter subjects until it was time to meet Harry for the walk back to Hogwarts.

* * * * * *

"But… could the Dark Lord also access her memories, now? They had a link-"

Severus shook his head and she frowned in response. He had not been in their chambers when she returned, giving her ample time to think over the situation with Ginny. When he returned she had immediately told him of their conversation – most of it, at least.

"It's times like these I recall – with clarity – that you are a Muggleborn, Hermione." He took a breath and she waited impatiently. "The Dark Lord was never linked to Miss Weasley. Tom Riddle, aged seventeen, was. Or a reflection of him, rather. A copy."

"So… the Dark Lord couldn't sense what was happening in the diary?" Hermione found that difficult to believe.

"The diary… he left many such items. I am in possession of one, in fact – it is in my vault. And well-protected. The diaries act… similar to a portrait. A snapshot of time only, containing the emotions and knowledge of the person at that point in time. The image, the reflection, does not grow, nor does it have a link to the living self." Pausing a moment, he drew close to the fireplace and flicked his wand. Immediately, the logs burst into flame. "The Dark Lord has no more idea of what occurred through that diary than Dumbledore has of what occurs through all of those Chocolate Frog cards that bear his image."

"Oh." Hermione bit her lip, not missing his frown when she did so. He had mentioned, once, that it reminded him of her youth. "That makes sense."

Severus sat beside her and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt. "Although… her insight into what was Tom Riddle could be useful. I will speak with Dumbledore."

Hermione took a breath, her eyes drawn to where the top of the Blood Rites scar peeked from the opening in his shirt. "Severus… she knows about the Call." Beside her, he stiffened. "In general terms. Remus wasn't able to tell her much about it."

"He would not be able to… it is not common knowledge, outside those who follow it. The details, at least. I would be most surprised indeed if he knew more than the fact that it exists and is a danger." Hermione heard the sneer in his voice and held back a sigh.

"She has images, feelings, from Tom… she remembers, Severus." Hermione took a breath before continuing. "She remembers more than just that. She said he promised himself, even then, that anyone who followed him would… would follow the Call, and would pledge a Blood Loyalty to him."

Severus averted his eyes. "Yes."

"She also described a vision, an image, she got from his mind when he thought about the Blood Loyalty ritual. Two parallel scars. On a person's right side." Severus made no motion to speak and remained frozen in place, his eyes staring into the fire. A reflection of the flames flickered in his eyes, and she allowed herself to be lulled by the hypnotic dancing. In a low, careful voice, she asked, "Whose loyalty did you pledge, Severus?"

He pursed his lips, eyebrows coming down in a scowl as he turned his head to glare at her. "What do you mean?" The words were almost a hiss.

"She could have been describing your side, Severus. Except you have four scars, not two. I assume two of them were for the pledge to Vo- the Dark Lord."

He nodded brusquely. "Yes."

"Who did you pledge Blood Loyalty to, Severus? Aside from the Dark Lord?"

"Professor Dumbledore. When I came to him, after my father's… death."

Hermione stared at him, shocked. "He… he asked you to perform a Dark Arts blood ritu-"

Severus sneered. "Of course not. Gryffindor that he is, he trusted me. But I felt the need to prove my loyalty to him."

"Oh." Hermione paused a moment, wrestling with herself, before she began, "How-"

She was surprised when he cut her off, his tones rich and full.

"Upon pain of blood, and retribution of the Call, your blood will not be spilt by my hand, nor your death dealt by my hand." He fixed his eyes on hers. "That is the pledge. And it is sealed by blood."

Hermione felt her heart freeze in her chest. "What… what is the pain of blood? The… the retribution of the Call?" He did not answer. "Severus?" She realized that her voice had gone slightly shrill, but she couldn't help it.

Moody…

He believes I am the one to perform the Blood Rites, however, as I am the one who is already stained.

She had the urge to reach out and shake him, her heart racing. She raised a hand to touch his shoulder when he spoke, his voice blank. "Like calls to like. What blood you draw, or what death you deal, will be brought upon you in kind."

She jumped up from the couch, staring at him in horror. "But… then… the Blood Rites… the prophecy… Moody…" Shaking her head, she gasped out, "You can't! You can't be the one to do it!"

"I may not have a choice." He met her gaze fully, his eyes cold.

"Severus, no!"

"Hermione." There was a note of hard finality in his voice. "I. Will. Do. What. I. Must."

She had never heard his voice sound so unyielding. She knew better than to pursue it further, but she felt like her heart had turned to ice in her chest. Tears pricked her eyes and she turned her head quickly so he wouldn't see them.

Oh, Gods… Moody has to be the one to perform the Rites… he has to do it!

Or…

With a sudden resolve, she blinked back her tears and looked at Severus. He returned her gaze evenly, his grim expression softening slightly as he reached out to pull her into his lap. She clutched at him frantically, making a silent vow even as her lips found his.

If Moody won't do it… then someone else will. And it won't be Severus.

* * * * * *

Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples as she sat in their chambers after classes the following Friday. She was exhausted. The week had started off well – rather relaxed, really. A couple of evenings that week, she had even had time to spend in the Gryffindor Common Room catching up with Neville, Harry, and the others. Seamus still avoided her, but for the most part everyone was rather pleasant. Lavender had told her in confidence that Seamus seemed to think Hermione was telling Severus about the goings-on in Gryffindor tower, to which Hermione had laughed loudly. As if Severus cared about which Gryffindors were snogging, or slagging off on their studies.

But the week had gone downhill from there. Loads of papers to mark and the weather had been frightful, which made the younger students in particular rowdier as they were unable to go outside to blow off steam. That afternoon she had helped Minerva with the first year and second year Slytherins, back to back, and to say she was irritated would be a dramatic understatement. At least she had switched the Slytherin colors off of their bed, or she would have been tempted to shred the bed curtains into tiny bits. As it was… she groaned and rubbed her temples harder.

"We do have headache potion, you realize. I am, after all, a Potions Master."

Glaring up at her husband, she scowled at him ferociously. "That's enough. That was the third sneering comment you've made since I got home. You know what – forget what I said about knowing about your Act, all right? Let's pretend I never said it, and you put the Act back on and pretend to be nice for a while."

He raised an eyebrow at her and snorted. "I must admit I was rather enjoying the reprieve from… politeness."

"Well, too bad." She continued to scowl in his direction, but it was becoming difficult to maintain the expression in the face of his slight smirk.

"And to think… I do recall, rather clearly, you saying that you preferred the way I really am. That you wanted… all of me, I believe you said." His smirk grew. "Do correct me if I'm wrong, my dear."

"That's right. All of you. Including your acting skills. Especially when I've had this kind of day, dealing with your Slytherins for the last two classes!" At this, he laughed out loud… and she could no longer hold her scowl, her face melting into a half-smile that she was determined to keep from growing into a full smile.

"I quite understand, Hermione. And I agree – I had to grant one of my darling second years an evening with me tonight. And a Gryffindor, of course."

Curious, she raised her eyebrows. "You usually don't do Friday evening detentions – what was the problem? What did the little Slytherin monster do?"

"Tsk, tsk. Such bias, Mrs. Snape?"

She snorted aloud at that. "That's pretty rich, coming from you."

He stood from his desk and crossed to where she was sitting, glancing at her in amusement as he settled beside her. "The two got into an altercation after Potions class. Regrettably, I missed the beginning of the incident, and so, with only one House's word against the other, I was forced to give them both detention." The smug smirk he was attempting to hide – rather unsuccessfully - told her that he knew full well just who the aggressor had been.

Some things never changed.

For some reason, she couldn't help but smile at the thought. Her smile grew wider as she imagined Harry's reaction to the idea that she was beginning to find Severus' bias against Gryffindors to be… endearing. She couldn't explain it, other than that it was just so… so Severus.

When she realized that she was not only smiling, but that her irritated mood had vanished, she tilted her head and regarded her husband thoughtfully. It appeared he was just as good at bringing her out of a mood as she was at bringing him out of a mood. "Severus, I…" she paused, nervous about saying the words that had come so readily the other night, the night he had marked her. Before she could continue, he pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his.

The kiss started out light, almost teasing, but quickly grew into more… she wasn't even conscious of moving closer to him until she realized she was straddling his lap, her body pressing against his, their kisses growing more heated. Her skin tingled as he dragged his hands along her back, reaching down to grasp her hips tightly… and then she felt him pause and groan against her neck, his hands slackening their grip as he pulled back.

"I am amazed, at times... how enticing you are to me… I have never-" He stopped for a moment and then sighed. "This is… not what I expected."

"It's not what I expected, either." Her eyes drifted shut as he touched her cheek lightly.

His voice held a regretful tone as he said, "As enjoyable as our current seating arrangement is, I believe we must venture to the Great Hall for dinner shortly."

Hermione opened her eyes. "Right. And you have detention." With a wicked smile, she leaned in for one last kiss. "How late will you be?"

"Mmm. It may very well be the shortest detention the Potions Master has ever given."

* * * * * *

Hermione picked at her dessert, her eyes wandering the Great Hall. Beside her, Sinistra's two apprentices were once again engaged in a heated debate over which star positions they should pay most attention to that night. She had tuned them out when they began the conversation. As her eyes passed over the Slytherin table, she saw Draco staring at her with a strangely wistful expression. Their eyes locked for a moment and his sharp face regained its customary sour look before he turned away.

Unsettled, she glanced at Severus. He was also scanning the room, his face far more sour than Draco's had been as his eyes passed over the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. She hid a smile – he did hate detentions, particularly when they interfered with more… entertaining… pursuits. Finally his gaze crossed over to her and he quirked an eyebrow slightly. She smiled as he rose in full Potions Master persona, his robes flapping behind him as he strode from the Hall.

She set her fork down and sighed. She may as well head back to their chambers… she really ought to get some of that headache potion and wait for Severus to return. She was just about to rise when a plain brown owl fluttered into the Great Hall and landed in front of her.

"Good timing," she remarked, untying the letter and offering him a bit of her dessert. Glancing at the envelope quickly, she noted the heavy parchment and bold handwriting. Viktor. Tucking it into her robes to open later, she bid her table companions a good evening and left the Great Hall.

After taking the headache potion, she made some tea to wash the bitter taste from her mouth and sank into her favorite armchair with a relieved sigh. As she sat, something rustled in her robes and she remembered the envelope.

She pulled it from her pocket and stopped, curious. At first glance it had appeared to bear Viktor's handwriting, but upon closer inspection… frowning slightly, she tore it open and pulled the letter out. It was short, and disturbingly to the point.

I am returning this – I believe it was meant to be yours. Did you know your name was the last thing that crossed his lips? Such a tragic end… such an unnecessary sacrifice.

There is also something of one of the attackers here. Perhaps your trust is misplaced, Mrs. Snape. There are others who are willing to help, if you wish to seek revenge.

There was no signature. She stood, her hands shaking, and she dropped the envelope. It fell to the carpet more heavily than it should have and, swallowing hard, she cast some revealing charms before leaning over to pick it up. Pulling her courage around her, she opened the envelope wide, pulling out the object within.

Oh, Gods… no…

Another ring.

A betrothal ring.

And she knew. She knew it wasn't a trick… she could feel Ron's presence… fleeting, perhaps… but there.

"…if I had just gone with him… but I thought he ought to pick out your ring himself-"

"A ring? He… that's why he went into Hogsmeade? Alone? I told him not to… I didn't want…"

And… Gods… blood. Dried blood. Not just a small stain, like on her mother's ring… but practically covering it like dark brown paint. So much… had it been in his pocket when they found him, when they tortured him to death? Or was he holding it in his hand when they first attacked, did he drop it as he fought desperately for his life against… against how many? There is also something of one of the attackers here.

Blinking the tears from her eyes, she lifted the ring closer. Wound around it, appearing to be stuck to the dried blood, was a long black hair. She knew whose head it belonged to.

And she knew. She knew this was a trick – a last-ditch effort by the bastards to make her distrust her husband, her bond-mate.

The man she loved.

How did they get his hair? Calm now, a strange numbness overcoming her, she looked closer at the ring and confirmed her suspicions. The hair wasn't actually stuck to the dried blood itself, but she had to give the Malfoys credit: the weak sticking charm that had been applied would have fooled most people. Particularly an overwrought person, who may take one look at the ring and cast it from them, running from the room…

But she wasn't going to run. Not now.

They will pay. I will make them pay.

Her fingers curled around the ring, forming a fist. How many times would she accept their taunts, their well-aimed attacks?

You have the means of breaking the wards.

Yes, she did. And she could use them.

A strange miasma formed in front of her eyes and she suddenly found herself in the bedchamber, wrenching open her trunk and pulling out the parchment Viktor had sent her so many weeks before… the parchment with the ward-breaking spells on it.

A faint voice echoed in the back of her mind…

Each step seems but a small one.

…but she paid it no heed as a second will, a second energy, rose up and brutally pushed the thought to the side. She stood, feeling as if another force was moving her limbs, and ran to where Severus had placed the Dark Arts books. Her eyes narrowed, fury building, she began to hurl spells from the parchment at the wards. It only took a few incantations before the wards fell. She grabbed the first book she recognized, the first book Viktor had ever sent her, and flipped through it quickly, instinctively passing by the more innocuous spells in the early stages of the book and heading straight to the back pages.

They will pay. I will make them pay.

She would find a curse… a curse to fit a Malfoy… and with a simple Obliviate afterwards, Draco would never know who had attacked him… but she would. Oh, yes, she would know. It was like an itch, begging to be scratched, and as she continued to read her mind began to whirl, she felt the lure grow stronger even as she devoured the words.

She grabbed her wand, hand once again moving of its own volition. It was within her power, she knew it, she could feel it… a red haze formed at the edges of her vision as her breath hitched in her chest, the fury building to extreme amounts. She moved her wand, practicing the precise motions before uttering the incantation… her lips moved silently… the rage grew… the red… the fear… the haze… too much…

…and her stomach twisted, her wand falling to the floor with a clatter. She bent over double, stumbling and crawling to the bathroom where she began to retch uncontrollably, sweat and tears mixing together to form a glistening mask on her face.

* * * * * *

Severus was peering into a newly cleaned cauldron, a sneer carefully plastered on his face for the benefit of the two students in front of him, when he felt it. When he felt the heat of the mark.

Fear… anger… pain…

Too much. And something else, something unidentifiable…

"Get out," he hissed. The two students stared at him in surprise. "Detention is over. Get out. Now!" he thundered.

They ran.

As soon as they disappeared, he followed the pull of the blood bond back to their chambers. He passed through the library and study, quickly taking in the Dark Arts book and her wand lying on the floor. He also caught sight of a parchment but continued on… Hermione.

He found his wife huddled on the bathroom floor. She was trembling, sweat soaking her skin, and he saw evidence of her earlier illness as he moved closer. With a flick of his wand he cast a cleaning spell and knelt down, a dark suspicion growing in his mind, chilling him.

"Accio yellow bottle!" He held his hand up and caught the small bottle of nausea relief potion, unstoppering it and supporting her head as he administered the standard dosage.

It would work instantaneously, unless…

Breaking his hold with a surprising show of strength, she leaned forward and retched again. How could it be?

The illness…

She had only read a few sentences – it wasn't possible! How could she be so susceptible? He had seen into her mind, he knew she had not lied about how much she had read in the Book of the Blood.

But how, then, was the illness affecting her?

"The small amount you read should not have brought on this response, Hermione."

"I didn't lie to you!" Her voice was weak, but even so he could hear the venom in her tone.

"I know that!" he snapped. In a more moderate tone, he said, "I saw, remember?"

"I think… I'm already feeling better. It's passing… maybe it was just the headache potion." She sat up shakily and he raised an eyebrow. He well remembered his own illness – he had been unable to move from his bed for days. Something wasn't right… there was something he was missing. Perhaps he was wrong, perhaps it wasn't the Call illness.

Severus shook his head. No. He felt it, the affinity… it was strong, stronger than normal. He knew… deep in his bones, he knew.

"I saw the book, Hermione. I saw your wand. What happened? Why did you break my wards?" As he spoke, he knew his voice was growing more agitated.

"The ring." Her voice was strangely flat.

"Ring?"

"Ron's ring… my ring… he got it for me… it had – here. It's here. Malfoy sent it – after you left. An owl. A letter." She opened her left fist slowly and he saw the ring. Some of the dried blood had mixed with the sweat of her palm, staining her skin a dark red. A sense of foreboding filled him as he gently reached out to take it from her.

The moment he touched it a hiss escaped from his mouth. With narrowed eyes he studied it. There was something… some strange sensation tickling at the back of his mind… one that seemed quite familiar… familiar. The blood… he had smelled this blood before. Abruptly he handed the ring back to her and rose, striding towards the office where he kept the most dangerous volumes. Where he kept the Book of the Blood.

"Stay in the study," he ordered fiercely when he saw Hermione preparing to follow him into the small office.

"No. What-"

"Don't make me put you in a body bind, Hermione. I will be return in a moment," he snapped, his long strides bringing him to his destination quickly. He slammed the door behind him and unwarded the Book of the Blood. When he touched it… yes. The same. The same ebb and flow, the same essence… with a slight difference…

Scribe's blood mixed with a victim's blood…

Viktor was the scribe.

Mr. Weasley was the victim.

The young man's blood – the lover, the man who had taken her virgin's blood… mixed with blood of another man – the friend, the man who had created this book… who had acted as scribe… who had make the ink in the ancient tradition, using the old incantations…

Merlin.

What were the effects? Blood of lover mixed with blood of friend, the Call bound to the ink using the darkest of magics… did her connection to the two men make it easier for the Call to seep into her? His blood ran cold. Could it have already taken hold?

It would explain much.

Steeling himself, he knew he had to be sure about the identity of the blood – he would need incontrovertible evidence to show Dumbledore. Hefting the book in his hands, he reluctantly turned and re-entered the study. Hermione stared at him in shock, her haunted eyes flicking down to the book before returning to his face. He could see her hands begin to tremble when the book came near and he growled in frustration. A toehold…

Ignoring her questions, he lay the book on his desk and retrieved the ring. Placing it on top of the dark red cover, he pulled out his wand and in a solemn voice cast a specialized revealing charm.

Both the book and the ring glowed a pure red.

It was confirmed.

He sat heavily in the chair, staring unseeing at the ring. The implications…

"What is it?" Her voice shook faintly. His gaze did not move from the book.

"Is that the first time you've gotten ill while reading?"

"What? Yes, Severus – I told you. I haven't... I haven't been doing much reading in any of the books. Something… something guided me tonight…"

His eyes shot up at that. She was standing beside him, staring down at the ring. "What is it, Severus? Talk to me…Why is Ron's ring… blood…"

He saw when the realization hit, and jumped up to support her when she stepped back, face filled with horror.

He wrapped his arms around her as her shaking knees began to give way. He held her close, lending his strength… he whispered in her ear, "That's why you feel it so strongly, even with just those few sentences you read."

She pulled back and stared at him. "I… do you think… I'm…"

"You are linked to both scribe and victim… Friend of one, lover of the other." He saw her mouth open to protest the terminology but he cut her off before she could begin. "I know what you are about to say – but the Call cares little for the labels you place on relationships. Mr. Weasley took your virgin's blood. You are bound to him by blood."

"Like… like I'm bound to you?"

He shook his head. "Not so strongly as that, Hermione. But… bound, nonetheless. It explains the wrongness you felt."

"Does… does the Call already… is it… it's too late? I'm…"

"No! No… I told you, an Unforgivable or Blood Rites are the final step in the Call linkage. But… it has a toehold, I believe. The lure you feel, your need for revenge…"

"They will pay. I will make them pay." It was a whisper, barely audible as she turned her head away from him.

He froze. "What did you say?" She turned back to face him, and he gazed into her eyes intently. They looked hollow… red-rimmed… haunted…

"It keeps going through my head, ever since I saw Ron… no, that's not right. Ever since I opened the book… that book… Oh, Gods…"

Severus closed his eyes for a moment. The Call… he could well remember his own thoughts, as he stood over his father's near-lifeless body… I want to make him pay. This explained much. A toehold…

Like calls to like.

He didn't realize he had said the words aloud until he heard Hermione's startled gasp. He caught her eye and nodded slowly. "The Call… since that morning when you first touched my scar, it demanded that I bind you to me… it did not subside until I marked you. I didn't understand why, at first… but now…" He hesitated until he saw the widening of her eyes. Nodding slightly, he continued, "The Call in my blood must have sensed yours, particularly when you touched the scar. And it wanted you… it wanted you bound to another of the Call…"

"But you never told me – that's why you grabbed my wrist like that. How often did it… rise?"

He regarded her a moment before answering. "Every time you touched it. And then, the night… the night I marked you, it was overwhelming. The demand… I couldn't resist it. It wanted you bound to me."

"But why?"

"I am not sure, precisely… but I think… if it could bind you to another of the Call, it is more likely that you will not back away… more likely that the thread will not unravel." Severus sighed and ran a hand through his hair, staring into the fire. When he next spoke, his voice sounded distant even to his own ears. "It is mindless, but with a will to survive, to propagate. That will is strong."

"So… it's in me?" To her credit, her voice wavered only slightly.

"Yes. But just a toehold, yet. You would have definitely noticed, otherwise… the emotional highs you experience would have demanded release long before now." Turning quickly he pinned her with his eyes. "Hermione. You must avoid learning any more. It is no longer safe for you, even the more innocuous volumes will allow the bridge to grow, will allow more of the Call to enter. That is – I think - why you felt the illness this evening. It was lessened, perhaps, because of the connection you bear to scribe and victim."

She looked mutinous, but he held her gaze evenly, without faltering, until she agreed. She moved to stand next to him, crossing her arms and staring into the fire, wavering only slightly on her feet. He watched her face, the flickering glow from the flames painting it in hues of orange and yellow… with the rare glow of red framing her cheeks.

Like blood.

* * * * * *

Severus coaxed her into bed after waving aside her apologies for hiding the parchment with the ward-breaking incantations from him.

"The Call is strong… I well know it, Hermione. It was not your failing – you have shown more strength of will than I would have expected, particularly as you did not realize what was occurring. I should have considered-" He stopped and shook his head decisively, refusing to discuss it further until after she had slept. She agreed, too shaky from the illness and worn from the emotional evening to summon the strength to argue.

She curled next to him gratefully and closed her eyes, relaxing as he ran a soothing hand through her hair.

Sleep. Yes. Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be soon enough to discuss it, to ask questions… to find out what I can… so tired…

She drifted into sleep.

Feverish dreams rocked her mind, not frightening, not memories, but something… a nervousness, an anxiety, her mind knew something that she did not… her mind wanted her to know something…

A memory surfaced in her slumbering mind. A young woman's voice, guttural, reciting a prophecy…

The key to ensure light over shadows prevail

Is in the blood of the friend, bound in red

She sat up with a gasp, heart pounding.

Blood of the friend.

Bound in red.

Instantly, Severus was next to her, holding her tightly. "What is it, Hermione?"

"Blood of the friend… Blood of the friend, bound in red! The Book of the Blood, it's red – a red binding – Ron's blood… Ron is the friend, not me! The key is in that book!"

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A/N: I just can't get away from these long chapters. Well, I hope this chapter helps make up for the evil cliffie in the last chapter… I know of at least two people who guessed the prophecy "bound in red" thing. And, I am going to keep score again this time, like I did in Scars. So, send your guesses and theories (or put them in a review – hint, hint ;) ). Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing – I'm very flattered that so many people appear to be enjoying it!!

Lewen Stonewar – Actually, I see the relationship as an integral part of the plot in this fic. I'm a bit confused, I'll admit, by your comments that movement of plot seemed to fall by the wayside in favor of sex, as the last chapter had no sex at all. Chapter 17's sex was a very important part of the plot, as it showed their blood bonding (the marking) and the force of the Call. In Chapter 18, there was a DE meeting where Severus was moved up in the ranks thanks to the fake conversation of Harry and Hermione's earlier in the chapter and where the Dark Lord demands that Hermione be brought before him… information about the blood binding was delivered… another journal entry was made that served to feed false information to the evildoers who are reading it… and then there was Ginny's revelation at the end. I'm honestly confused as to what you mean by plot movement, as all of these things are definite movement of the plot. There are also other little things that were peppered throughout that will prove significant. If you could clarify, that would be great – is the pacing off, perhaps? Thanks for taking the time to review!

Mistress Nymphadora – Thank you for reviewing. Hope this chapter clears up the questions regarding Ginny. The reason for no symbol in the middle will be explained, never fear ;). And yes, I will be doing the house points thing again – I had fun with it, too!

Leyna Rountree – Thank you for your comments, yes, many threads were planted last chapter for the future chapters. I'm glad you noticed!

Sylvan Snape – Thank you – I'm working very hard on the characterization so your comments are definitely nice to hear. Ollivander has always seemed a bit creepy to me in the books, so I wanted to use him in a fanfic in a neutral-type of role.

Ironmayden – Thanks for reviewing – and just an FYI - the last chapter was 14 pages in Word – most fanfic chapters are 3 – 5 pages long… I guess that means the pacing is smooth if it seemed short to you ;). I'm updating weekly, also. Look for it late Tuesday, early Wednesday unless something horrible in real life occurs (like my kidney infection a few weeks back).

Liraniel – Thank you for the review! I'm almost above it, but the scenes in this chapter really had to be together for the flow to be correct, so I'm only slightly repentant ;).

CaretoDream, PhoenixFeather7, Daintress, Makalani Astral, Jinxdncursed, Tasya, Lover5, Lanhar, Jean Jelly Bean, ankle – Thank you for reviewing!!!