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, not the creations of JK Rowling – 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 22

Severus was silent on the way back to the Apparition point, and the mood in the carriage was such that Hermione accepted this without comment. She knew that what they had to discuss was better left to the comfort and privacy of their chambers.

As the carriage rolled along, she went over the events of the evening in her mind. Or she tried to, rather. Every time she began to think about the confrontation with the Dark Lord, an image of Lucius' normally cold blue eyes – burning with hatred – claimed her attention. He blamed Severus for his demotion, that was apparent. What was not apparent was what the blond man could do about it.

She cast a glance at Severus and noted the rigidity of his posture with unease, wondering what was running through his mind. His black eyes had not wavered since the carriage began to move – staring out at the moonlit landscape that passed quickly beyond the window. She was reminded forcefully of the moods he often fell into after some of the more… difficult… Death Eater meetings.

The Dark Lord had departed shortly after the incident with Lucius, and Severus had made their excuses and left soon after. The last few minutes before leaving had been a blur of tight smiles and insincere wishes to meet again soon… although, she had to admit that Rodolphus Lestrange's wishes had seemed almost genuine. From what she could sense, there was some relationship – a friendship, perhaps - between Severus and the Lestrange man.

She glanced at her husband's face once more, at first thinking it was good if he had a friend of sorts on the inside. And then the cold realization hit her…

Neville.

The only guest present that night who had seemed even the slightest bit welcoming to her was the same man who had assisted in the merciless torture of the Longbottoms. She shook her head, the bile rising in her throat. That man – Rodolphus Lestrange – was responsible for the condition of the Longbottoms. Gods… she vividly recalled the first time she had seen Neville's mother at St. Mungo's… vividly recalled the look on Neville's face as his mother handed him the gum wrapper…

And this man was friends with Severus?

Possibly sensing her sudden unease through their blood bond, Severus looked at her for the first time since they entered the carriage. She just shook her head mutely and he quirked an eyebrow before resuming his contemplation of the countryside. The dark countryside.

She sat for a moment before her thoughts returned to Lestrange. Why had she reacted like that? Almost every person in that room had done things she would find to be utterly repugnant, and she had known that and accepted it. Known and accepted that Severus had also done those types of things. Unforgivables… a spot of Muggle torture, as Harry had quoted from the night the Dark Lord regained his body.

Ruthlessness.

She had been surrounded by it, that night. And wasn't she still? She looked at the dark figure of her husband, the trees blocking what light had been shining through the window… giving only a glimpse of glittering dark eyes and pale skin when the carriage passed a small break in the towering foliage. She sighed slightly and looked down at her wedding band.

Wedding rings… blood… the Dark Arts… the Call…

They will pay. I will make them pay.

She wasn't just surrounded by ruthlessness…

It was inside of her.

It was a part of her.

---

For Severus, the carriage ride had afforded him an opportunity to think over the evening's events with an objective eye before his wife's questions began. He gazed out of the window as the landscape rolled by, considering the events from every angle, planning the appropriate images to bring forth at the next Death Eater meeting. Suddenly he felt a surge of unease flow through the bond, and he glanced at Hermione. The moonlight lit her face with an otherworldly glow, and she seemed almost… ethereal. Serene. Which was certainly at odds with the unease that he felt coming from her, the unease that had pulled him from his thoughts. Seeing her shake her head slightly, he firmly pushed back his annoyance and turned back to stare through the window. If only she could be taught to control her emotions…

How could she dream of holding back the Call with her emotions so raw, so open… such upheaval, waiting below the surface… He shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. Her emotional upheaval had had dire consequences that night…

Not that the act itself had been dire – Severus had quite enjoyed her aggressiveness – but having her draw his blood, allowing the Call to taste physical blood when it was raging within her… he well knew what effect that would have. Bit by bit, the bridge was growing stronger in her… letting more of the Call in. But it couldn't be helped – had she gone before the Dark Lord with her emotions in such turmoil, with the Call raging within her, she would have been unable to keep their secrets.

She would have been killed. Immediately.

Instead… she had been able to satisfy the Call, to drive it back across the thin bridge. And of course it had acquiesced – it had gotten what it wanted out of the exchange, after all – a thickening of the link. And, as a result of the Call's triumphant retreat, she was able to face the Dark Lord clear-headed. And, instead of killing her, the Dark Lord had granted her a boon. To see her enemy, the one who had caused her great grief, writhing on the floor of Macnair Manor…

Oh, how Severus relished that vision. He smiled in satisfaction as he replayed the moment in his mind. His intense fear at the Dark Lord's furious gaze had melted and reshaped into intense pleasure at the sight of his enemy under the wand of the Dark Lord. And, more importantly, his adversary had been moved down dramatically in the ranks.

He was aware of the utter silence following that event. He could almost hear the Death Eaters' thoughts – Over a Mudblood? Though the Dark Lord had made it clear that Lucius' punishment came from defying explicit orders, Severus had no doubts that the majority of participants in the evening's events placed the blame directly at the feet of the young Muggleborn witch in their midst. And, consequently, at the feet of Severus himself.

Particularly Lucius. Severus had no doubt that the humiliation of being bested by someone that Lucius himself had mentored burned deeply. The deadly glare the blond man had shot him attested to that.

Yes, Severus would have to be on his guard even more now. Sitting back and allowing himself to relax for the first time during the carriage ride, he began to consider just what tidbits to send Lucius when Hermione next wrote in the journal. Perhaps it would be wise to avoid taunting him further until some time had passed.

---

Finally, the carriage halted and Hermione and Severus Apparated back to the gates of Hogwarts. Dressed as they were, they looked like nothing other than a couple returning from an evening out in Hogsmeade, or perhaps Diagon Alley. Hermione smiled slightly. She never dreamed that they would get along so well when this entire ridiculous plan was first presented to her by the two men. She certainly would never have dreamed that she would fall in love with the man.

She only wished she knew how he felt towards her. She had a sinking feeling that he didn't exactly return her affections. Although… he had told her that he trusted her. And coming from a man like Severus – maybe that was even better than an admission of love.

It was not that she expected – or wanted - flowers and love letters. Merlin forbid… if she was faced with a Severus bearing either one she wouldn't even have to resort to using their code word to know it was a Polyjuiced imposter. No, he would never be a flowers and sweets type. Which suited her perfectly. She had no patience for empty displays of sentiment. But… it would be nice to have her feelings reciprocated.

Sighing quietly, she took his proffered arm and followed him to their chambers. She smiled at the sour expression on his face when they passed a suit of armor that was cheerily singing "Jingle Bells."

Christmas didn't seem to be his time of year.

It suddenly struck her that it was already the beginning of December. In a week, McGonagall (and Severus, she assumed) would pass around the sign-up sheet for those students who would be staying at Hogwarts over the break. She wondered for a moment if Harry would stay, or if he would take the Weasleys up on their invitation and go to the Burrow. Either way, she would need to get his gift shortly.

And Severus' gift, also. She bit her lip. She knew there was nothing in Hogsmeade that would be appropriate, which meant a trip to Diagon Alley. But she certainly couldn't ask Severus to accompany her… and neither Ginny nor Harry would be able to go with her. It was definitely out of bounds for students. Perhaps Minerva or Remus would have the time.

As they entered their chambers she shook herself mentally, pushing aside her thoughts of the holidays. Was it some sort of defense mechanism of her mind, to consume itself with mundane thoughts when she became too stressed over other thoughts? She led the way to the study, where she kicked off her shoes and sunk into the couch, closing her eyes and letting out a breath as the tension finally left her.

She felt the cushion next to her dip down and knew Severus had followed her example. Turning her face towards him, she opened her eyes only to see Severus peering down at her with an unreadable expression. "What is it?" she asked, blinking.

He stared at her a moment longer before pulling out his wand and pointing it at the fireplace. She could see the reflection in his eyes as the flames sprang up at his command, and the odd glittering quality gave her the chills. Still staring at the fire, he said evenly, "Tell me what the Dark Lord saw. What caused him to… punish… Malfoy."

The tension returned to her limbs and she sat up straight before answering. He listened attentively, his brows furrowed slightly as he concentrated on her words. After describing the images and associated emotions that the Dark Lord had seen, she looked down at her hands. "I didn't mean to let the last bit slide out. I didn't block it, either… it just-"

Severus turned to her with an amused look. "Hermione – that was the most valuable of the images that you showed him. And, as I told you in our lessons – it would be close to impossible for you to have the ability to spin images out at will in the short amount of time we had to prepare for this meeting. It takes most people years to gain that amount of aptitude; many months to even gain the ability to block images. We were very fortunate indeed that you proved to be so adept at the art."

"Oh… I thought-" She was cut off by Severus' deep voice.

"What I am concerned about is not your Occlumency skills, Hermione." Turning to face her again, she saw that all amusement had disappeared from his face. She frowned in confusion as he continued to regard her silently. Finally, he said, "I am concerned about your link to the Call. And your ability to resist it."

She felt her cheeks grow warm and she looked down at her hands, her eye caught by the wedding ring on her left hand. The flames cast a warm orange glow over the half facing the fireplace… the contrast between the cool white platinum and the glowing orange reflection mesmerizing her for a moment. "I can… it was unfamiliar surroundings, Severus, and I didn't expect-"

"You'll never expect, Hermione. You must be ready, at all times. What we did… what we were forced to do… your link to the Call is stronger now."

Hermione nodded. She had realized that the moment she tasted his blood in her mouth. The Call had entered her for a moment, stronger than ever, though it had retreated almost as quickly… a small amount lingering on until her lust had been sated. "Why did you tell me to draw your blood, then?"

"It was the only way to ensure the Call was satisfied… to ensure it would retreat completely before the Dark Lord appeared. Trust me, Hermione – the idea of you succumbing to the Call is far more attractive to me than the idea of you being tortured to death by the Dark Lord. And that's completely aside from the fact that I would have quickly followed you into death, had the Dark Lord seen all that you know."

"Oh." Hermione shifted in the chair, pulling her robes around her more comfortably. "Is… will it always be like that? If I… if I taste blood?"

Severus shook his head. "Not much is known. I believe so. It will strengthen the link at the same time as the Call recedes…" Hermione swallowed. "The danger has grown for you. You must not read any more in the Dark Arts volumes… you must not cast Avada Kedavra, or perform the Blood Rites… the urge will be great."

Hermione frowned suddenly. "As long as I don't finalize the link, what does it matter how strong the bridge is?"

Severus closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a breath. "If it should ever come to pass that you finalize the link… the smaller the bridge is at that time, the better. Believe me." His voice sounded strangely hollow.

She nodded slowly. It made sense… particularly since she had a sneaking suspicion than Moody would refuse to be the one to perform the Blood Rites. And, since she refused to allow Severus to sacrifice himself…

…that left her.

---

Severus shook his head and sat back in the chair, rubbing his eyes before glancing at the man seated across from him. Alastor Moody, in his private chambers. Who would have ever believed such a thing would come to pass?

But it had.

Moody hadn't seemed any happier about the arrangement than Severus, though he had agreed with Dumbledore's suggestion quickly. It was the simple truth that Severus' chambers had the strongest wards available in the castle – with the possible exception of the Headmaster's office – against Dark Magic and eavesdropping. It was safer, by all accounts, to leave the Book of the Blood where it was and simply bring Moody to their chambers to study it.

Severus had already spelled a quill to transcribe the book onto five sets of parchment. The meeting with Lupin and Shacklebolt wasn't until the next day, but he wished to get a copy to Hermione that evening to forestall the possibility of her breaking his wards and studying the book on her own. She was just maddening enough to do it. Dumbledore, true to his word, had approached Hermione with the option of helping them look through the Book of the Blood. She had eagerly agreed, wanting greatly to assist with the research. Wanting greatly to learn more of the Dark Arts.

Moody eyed him suspiciously. "So – transcribing already. Getting an early start?"

Severus glanced at the older wizard and frowned. He reached out and picked up the spelled quill, twirling it in his hands for a moment before setting it back to its task with a flick of his fingers. "Hermione is… eager… to begin. I don't wish her to have any more exposure than necessary to the original book."

"So – speaking of Hermione… where is your young wife?" Moody growled, the older man's raspy voice grating on Severus' eardrums like sandpaper.

"Out," Severus answered curtly.

"Charming as ever, Snape," Moody commented with a wry smile. "Did she finally get tired of your sneering and go off to hunt down a young buck with a better disposition?"

Severus rolled his eyes and let out a breath. "I answer only in the hopes that you will shut up, Moody. She is with Minerva."

"Hmm. I hear her apprentice project is going well. Very well, indeed. Might even be qualified as a Master sooner than she'd expect, as I understand it."

"Quite."

"What do you think she'll do then? Though it may not have any bearing on you, really. By then the Final Battle should be over, this law gone, and you'll be free to be on your own again." Moody shot him an unpleasant smile. "I'm sure that would please you, eh, Snape?"

Severus redirected his attention to the quill as it continued its journey across the parchments, ignoring the man's goading words. His hand itched to draw his wand, but he tamped down the urge.

"Or maybe it wouldn't please you, then?"

Severus raised his head. "Moody – do just come out and say what you are hinting at. Your clumsy attempts at subtlety are giving me a headache."

Moody's brows drew down. "You're attached to her, Snape. Admit it. Why else would you care if she succumbs to the Call? Imagine the surprise attack we'd have available, if she did. Unforgivables… the Blood Rites, if needed. As a matter of strategy it would help us if she was under the Call, have you considered that?"

"I have considered it," Snape said coldly.

Moody's hand came down hard on the table. "Then stop letting your emotions get in the way of your sense, Snape!"

Severus kept his face carefully impassive, but inside his mind was reeling from the ex-Auror's words. Was that what he was doing? Was he ignoring an obvious advantage to them because of his… fondness… for Hermione? He shook his head sharply. No. There were too many risks if she should succumb to the Call – beyond any emotional… attachment… he may possess. Even Dumbledore had seen – and acknowledged – the risks.

Moody sat forward, his magical eye seeming to stare straight through Severus. "She would resist it. She would turn her back on it, Snape. She's a Gryffindor."

"So was Pettigrew," Severus snapped. He held Moody's eyes until the other man turned away.

"She is not like Pettigrew, Snape. And I think we're going to need her help. She can do it. Merlin, man, she wants to do it." With that, Moody stood and left the room, letting the door slam firmly behind him.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Severus said softly to the empty room.

---

"Very good work today, Hermione. I think we've completed all the preparations we'll need for the end of term exams," Minerva said with satisfaction, arching her back to stretch it. Hermione was reminded of a cat, and stifled a smile when she remembered the Professor's animagus form. It certainly seemed appropriate.

"That's good. I'm looking forward to the holidays even more now than when I was a student."

Minerva laughed. "I remember the feeling. The students get a bit more high-strung closer to the holidays, also, which makes us appreciate the time off even more. Though I wonder how many students may stay over the break this year, with Voldemort growing in power." There had been more Muggle raids, and a few raids on wizarding families that openly supported Dumbledore, over the past few weeks. Luckily, none of the wizarding raids had resulted in a death, yet – though there had been some deaths resulting from the Muggle raids. Severus had informed the Order that activity would pick up with all of the new recruits that were being initiated, and his prediction proved to be true.

"Speaking of the holidays, Minerva… I was wondering if you would accompany me to Diagon Alley sometime before Christmas? I wanted to pick up something for Severus-"

A wide smile split the Transfiguration Professor's face. "Of course, Hermione. The first week of holidays would be perfect, I think. I have a bit of shopping to do myself… for a few people that can't be taken care of with the shops in Hogsmeade. Honestly, what do you get a man like Dumbledore for Christmas?"

"Socks?"

"I've already done that too many Christmases to count. Well, I'm sure we'll find something. Why don't you run along and relax, Hermione. It's a Saturday, after all."

After a short trip to the Gryffindor Common Room, Hermione returned to the dungeons hoping to find Severus in their chambers alone. She liked Moody, but she was rather tired to entertain a guest at the moment. Not to mention, she would see him at the meeting tomorrow.

She was beyond pleased that Dumbledore had approached her with the choice of whether or not to assist with the research for the key. Of course she had accepted… with Severus determined to keep her away from everything she was beginning to feel a bit estranged from the entire project. He hadn't seemed very pleased, but he had grudgingly agreed to her help - though she would only be allowed to read from transcribed pages and not from the original book.

She had no argument with that. Particularly now, knowing what she did about the blood that shone wetly on the pages…

Severus had commented on the strength of the Call that emanated from the Book of the Blood that Viktor had sent her… and although her senses hadn't quite matured enough to recognize it, she had sensed something about the book… something aside from the wrongness. Perhaps it was the Call, reaching out for her… perhaps it was something else. It was unlikely that she would ever truly know.

She could tell the strength of it from Severus' reactions, besides. After spending time with Moody, searching the book for the key, he was on edge… feral… even more aggressive and snappish than normal. Her only hope was to distracthim before the aggression switched to anger. If she hit it at the right moment then everyone involved benefited. She grinned in anticipation.

"Severus?" she called softly as she entered the study. There was a muffled sound from the bedroom, along with sounds of… splashing? It couldn't be… she strode through their chambers, following the sound, and stopped in the doorway to the bathroom.

Oh, this is too good of an opportunity to waste, she thought with a delicious shiver. Severus was in the huge tub, his head tilted back, the ends of his hair fanning around him in the clear water. She could see his lean torso disappearing into the water, and she licked her lips unconsciously as she studied him.

She jumped slightly when a voice, silken smooth, came from the bath. "Well? Are you planning on joining me or were you planning on standing there staring at me?"

She chuckled and leaned against the sink as his eyes opened slowly. "It's a tough call."

"Hmm. I did draw this bath with you in mind, you realize."

She smiled then and began to undress, slowing her movements to tease him as she became aware of his eyes on her. "Well, if you drew it for me then why aren't there any bubbles?"

He snorted at that, his eyes fixed on her body as she peeled off her robes. "I refuse to sit in a… bubble bath." The scorn with which he infused those words was amazing and she couldn't help but laugh. Gods, but she loved this man…

… and she would not lose him. She would see to it.

Making her way to the edge of the tub, she knelt and gave him a lingering kiss. "Oh, really? You refuse to sit in a bubble bath?" she said challengingly. With a flick of her wrist, she turned one of the foaming faucets. So much more efficient than Muggle bubble bath, she thought in satisfaction as the foam quickly covered the surface of the water. She grinned at his narrow-eyed look and began to comment when, with a sharp tug on her arm, she found herself in the tub with him. Shaking her head to clear the bubbles from her face, she turned to face him with a mock glare.

"Correction. I refuse to sit in one alone." And with that, he pushed her against the side of the tub and began his assault on her willing body.

---

The next day, Hermione sat in the Room of Requirement in a comfortable chair, frustrated. The five of them had searched through spells and rituals for hours with no success. Nothing was leaping out at her, and when she glanced around the table she saw a similar blankness on the men's faces. She was glad now that Severus had kept her occupied for most of the prior evening rather than allowing her to waste any more time in research. Unable to take it anymore, she dropped her parchments on the table and stood, pacing.

"Hermione?" Remus said. "Is everything all right?"

She shook her head, thinking. "This is wrong. We're going about this all wrong."

"Really?" Moody growled.

She turned to face the men seated at the table and met Severus' eyes. "Yes, Mrs. Snape – do tell us how you would approach this little… project of ours," Severus said with one eyebrow raised sardonically. He appeared to be just as annoyed as she was at their lack of progress.

"Well, to start with… which spells are unique to this particular book?"

Moody answered her. "No way to know. There are unique spells in every Book of the Blood, young woman. Spells that appear in no other books."

Hermione frowned and glanced at Remus and Kingsley. She had no idea if they knew about Viktor, and she wasn't planning to be the one to tell them about the origin of this book. "How does the… scribe… know the spells to write them?"

Severus sat back and ran a hand through his hair. "The scribe enters into a trance state. The Call guides his hand."

"Oh." Hermione wished for a moment that she had a strong drink, and obediently the Room of Requirement produced a tray with a Firewhisky bottle and five glasses. She chuckled a moment and shook her head, concentrating on her need for a bottle of wine instead. It appeared instantly.

Moody rose and grabbed the Firewhisky bottle, pouring himself a glass. "Right. Sometimes, new spells appear. Sometimes more than other times, depends on the book."

"And the incantations used. How much of the Call is called forth to reside in the ink... there are too many variables to mention, Hermione," Severus added.

"New spells…" Hermione sat back down in her chair, taking a long sip of her wine.

Severus nodded and fixed his gaze on her. "New spells… such as some of the immortality spells the Dark Lord used. He wrote many Books of the Blood, hoping each time that the Call would guide his hand and reveal new potions, new rituals, new incantations… anything to help him achieve his dream of immortality."

"And one of them must have worked. Too bad we don't know which one," Kingsley commented dryly, giving Moody a nod in thanks as he accepted the proffered glass of Firewhisky. Remus shook his head in polite refusal.

Hermione shook her head, trying desperately to clear it. She could sense the answer sitting at the edge of her mind… what was wrong with her? "That's it! What went wrong the first time? The first time he died… what went wrong? Why didn't he die?"

"His soul survived… his body was killed," Remus answered in a steady voice.

"So is there a spell or ritual to kill the soul?"

Kingsley frowned. "There could be… but what if he is a true immortal now? We don't have any way to know which of the spells and potions that he used were successful."

Hermione chewed her lip in thought. "Well, even so… is there something to keep a soul from returning to a body? Something like that?" The room went absolutely silent.

"You know, I think she's right, Snape," Moody said in his raspy voice. Hermione winced as he took another long gulp of the fiery liquid. No wonder his voice is like that… that stuff is worse than drinking rubbing alcohol.

"Of course she's right. She's always right," Severus said sourly, though she could detect a hint of pride in his voice.

The five of them returned to their search with a renewed vigor.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Another transitional chapter, but again – a bit more going on than may appear at first glance. It's the calm before the storm… We're heading for the home stretch now – I don't want to give an exact chapter count because sometimes the chapters flow better with extra scenes or some scenes shifted to another chapter… but, give or take a couple, we're about 4 chapters from the end.

When I went back to edit this chapter, this phrase stuck out: "began his assault on her willing body" – I know I've read that somewhere before, but I can't remember what fic I snitched it from. If it's yours, please let me know and I'll credit you accordingly. I think it may be one of the "classics" but I'm not sure… I tried to find another phrase which worked as well, but that one seemed to want to stay. I'll slice it out if the author has any objections.

I'm pleased to note that there were some people who found the clue in the last chapter and mentioned it to me… of course I won't tell you what it was until the end, but keep reviewing and giving your theories – I'm doing the House Points thing again (like I did with Scars) so it should be fun to see which House and site wins the House Cup this time around… or should it be the Cup of the Blood? Teehee… that sounds rather disgusting, actually, so I'll stick with the House Cup ;).

Thank you to all of my reviewers!! I'm really touched that so many of you are not only reviewing, but leaving very long and detailed reviews – it's not necessary, but it's oh so very appreciated!!!!

And special thanks to anyone who notices errors in my fic and points them out to me – I was just informed by someone that I've been misspelling Flourish and Blotts this entire time… for some reason it's in my head as "Flourish and Botts" which makes no sense. When I get a chance I'll go through the old chapters and fix this error. That's what I get for not having a beta, I suppose.