Hey! Sorry for the delay BUT I had some misunderstandings with my beta reader and thus the whole process took more time than I had planned. Sorry! Anyhow… is chapter 39 of your liking? Don't be afraid to leave a review. I'll answer them at my LJ. My ID is florws. Thanks!
Well… here it is; chapter 39. Enjoy!
Chapter 39: Mrs. Snape.
Hermione Granger's body was unable to respond once placed on the red carpet at Malfoy Manor. She had seen that place before, she was in Lucius' private chambers and sure enough he was there too, silently waiting for her to move her bruised limbs. He was a snake, after all, and such reptiles always wait for their future capture in the darkness of the night while it gently slithers across the grass- now transformed into a red carpet- to finally nail its fangs, true daggers, which poison the victim and enables the snake to slowly swallow the remains of what it used to be, in this case, a human soul- a unique piece of the universe just like you and me.
Therefore, Hermione did not move because if she dared do such a thing she would cease to exist and even though the word tragic had a new different meaning in Hermione's mental dictionary now, she couldn't help but grasp whatever hope left in her body. Severus, after all, depended on her in many ways.
"Miss Granger," Lucius said from his red velvet chair. Hermione was not quite capable of pointing at Lucius' direction because the obscurity of the room was such that no object or person could be clearly seen, just their dark shapes illuminated by the moon, "I see you have finally decided to wake up," he said, standing from his previous resting place and walking all the way to where Hermione Granger was.
She, of course, said nothing wishing that perhaps her silence would calm his temper but she was wrong for her stillness and muteness only inspired rage in Lucius Malfoy.
"Miss Granger," he said between his teeth, "this is not the time to PLAY GAMES!," he shouted nailing his cane in the middle of her back which made her scream with a kind of pain she had never felt before. He actually wanted to stab her with his cane because he kept wringing it with all his strength in order for her back to break but, fortunately for Hermione, he stopped in time, "Now," he whispered, calming himself down, "Where is your husband?,"
"I…," she said, trying to stand but failed to do so. Her body ached too much and the spot in which Lucius had rubbed his black stick with a silver snake on the top throbbed like hot iron, "I don't know," she confessed, placing her right cheek on the floor and surrendering to the power of soreness.
"Miss Granger," he calmly said walking towards the fireplace, "you are not in a very good position right now. I suggest you to start talking because the future does not look promising for you," he said while introducing the silver snake to the fire.
"I don't know where Severus is. I was just sleeping when…," she started to explain, but it was all in vain.
"SILENCE!," Lucius interrupted her, shouting loudly, "Do you believe I am a fool, Miss Granger? Your husband believes it, apparently, why would you not?," he enquired while watching the snake's head turn orange, "For the last time, Miss Granger, where is your husband?,"
"Mr. Malfoy, I am telling the truth…I," she tried to explain, her lower lip shivering in mild apprehension. Her attempts at explaining, however, were useless because Lucius Malfoy was not really interested in Severus' current location. In reality, he was just propitiating the moment for a long awaited torture.
When Hermione Granger started sobbing, he knew the time had come for there are not many things as delicious for a hangman as the tears of one's victim and believe me when I tell you that Hermione Granger played the part of victim very well in Lucius Malfoy's dark play. Perhaps, she had played that part all along. Perhaps, she thought while hearing Lucius' steps, they had all been puppets cleverly handle by that evil puppeteer who was slowly approaching.
But when the hot iron made contact with her skin- just like a lover's kiss- she made sure to close her mind to everything, including thoughts regarding Severus Snape who ignored what had happened that night or where she was, for that matter. However, my friends, you should fear not for Hogwarts most dreadful Potion's Master was about to discover that the only thing worth living for in his meaningless life was gone. And with her, so was trepidation for love has the power to make us bolder and stronger in situations which can only arouse terror in a human soul.
"Hermione," Severus whispered, later that night when he had made sure that everything regarding Dumbledore's death was under control, "Are you asleep?," he asked, tiptoeing towards the black leather couch in which he had last seen her sleeping peacefully as the angel she was in his eyes. He had promised himself so many times that he would kiss her forehead before facing Lucius again that the thought of waking her up to hear her voice did not seem unwise. Little did he know, though, that he would find only blood and hate where love and peace had once reigned. There, in front of him, slept no princess. There, in front of him, remained only pieces of a person- her blood and the cloths that had once composed her school uniform. There, in front of him, lay the scene of a brutal encounter, so the only logical explanation he found for his wife's disappearance was somehow connected to Lucius Malfoy and his Death Eaters. They knew.
And yet, despite perceiving that the end was near, he knelled down on that cold stone floor at the dungeons merely to remember all the happy memories they had shared under that same roof. He had failed her. He had promised he would take care of her for as long as there was oxygen left in his lungs and still, she was not there and he was. Severus couldn't help but feel guilty. He had never felt such an emotion before, perhaps because he had never cared for someone else before. See, I am one of those people who believe that in the end, life is just a plain compilation of moments. Why do we remember certain events and why do we choose to bury others in the very back of our memory? Why is it that the most horrible of presents reminded Severus of how much he loved her, of how much she meant to him, of how much he would miss her, of how much he would gladly put into jeopardy in order for her to smell the sweet odour of flowers again?
With his index finger, he touched her dried blood in the floor and cried like the boy he had once been and had never cried. He wept because it hurt, he wept because he- the adult- had been obliged to grow up and he wept mainly because Hermione's innocence had been taken away from her by men who deserved her not. Standing up from the hard floor, he squatted again to pick up her ripped clothes lying just metres away from where he had been crying just minutes ago. He caressed the white shirt and touched the Gryffindor badge, smiling slightly. He needed to find the courage- even he was not born with the kind of boldness only find in hero's- to bring her back home.
He needed to become a hero. And so, throwing some green powder into the flames which roared with ferocity, his head re appeared at Malfoy Manor. Just in time.