Castaways on a Sullen Sea
By weasleywheezes
Chapter 16 – The Sabbat
Severus apparated in a dark wood, where the Death Eaters could meet with no interruptions. He looked around, but he couldn't find anyone. "Strange," he thought, "The Dark Mark was burning…"
He heard a rustle in the woods behind him. Severus turned, walked closer to the trees, then saw the ghostly glow of the white porcelain faces moving toward him.
"Brother…it is time. Let us commune with the Dark Lord." Severus recognized the voice as Macnair's. He walked into the small crowd of Voldemort's followers, then he saw the Dark Lord himself, standing in the middle of a circle of trees.
"Come, Death Eaters," Voldemort rasped. "The ceremony will begin shortly."
The strange group of followers circled the snake-like man, and all of them bowed on one knee, clasping their fist to their chest, then stood and gave a strange salute. One of the Death Eaters dared to speak first. "My Lord, how may we serve you?"
"Gagne, first, we must draw straws."
"Draw straws, sir?" Gagne asked.
"Yes. Let us leave it to chance to see who will assist me in regaining more power this evening." Voldemort smirked, then conjured up a handful of straws. Each Death Eater took one.
The men placed their straws together on the ground. Only one was shorter then the others – the straw belonging to the elder Goyle. Snape calmly stood close to Gagne and Macnair, fearing the horrible fate that Goyle would have to face.
Goyle walked closer to the Dark Lord and knelt before him. Voldemort clasped his hand and drew him closer to him. He tilted his head back, and gave him a kiss full on the lips. Goyle's body convulsed, then he fell to the ground like a rag doll. Voldemort stretched his limbs.
A diminutive Death Eater rushed to Goyle's side to administer a potion. Voldemort gazed down at him in slight appreciation. "Salisbury, bind Goyle to that tree. He will recover in time, but I must thank him for that tasty morsel of his life's essence." The Dark Lord laughed evilly.
Voldemort glanced at his minions, disguises all at their side as they watched Salisbury tie the weakened Goyle to the tree. Voldemort caught Snape's eye. He cocked his head to the right, and then pointed his finger toward him. "Snape…our secret agent. Tell me, Severus, what news have you?"
"None, my lord. I believe, however, that Potter may be hiding in Eastern Europe."
"Good…good. I must have Petrova investigate. Snape, put out your arm."
Severus winced. He knew what was going to happen. He bared his arm, the Dark Mark burning darkly in his skin. Voldemort smiled grimly, then touched the mark. Severus cried out. The Death Eaters all laughed.
"Silence!" the Dark Lord hissed. "Or you'll be next."
Voldemort continued touching the magical tattoo. "Yes…it's faded a bit. I wonder why. Have you been scrubbing it again?" He poked at the scar with each word, shooting pain through Severus' arm.
"My lord, I must bathe myself." A few Death Eaters sniggered at this remark.
"Must you, Severus? You know what I have to do," Voldemort said with sadistic glee. "Gagne, Macnair, Salisbury, Crabbe!" The four men leapt to attention. "You will hold Severus down."
Snape trembled with dread, but kept quiet. "My lord…"
"I need to remind you where your loyalties lie, Snape. Always remember that I am your master!" Voldemort said as he held a red-hot iron in his hand.
Severus' screams echoed through the night.
----
Hermione rose with a start. It had sounded like a tortured shriek. She looked around, called for Severus, but knew that he was nowhere to be found. She knew that he was at a Death Eater sabbat. The thought sent chills down her spine. What unspeakable acts would Severus have to submit to in order to continue his highly dangerous double agent act?
She thought about Harry and Ron. She hadn't heard from them in weeks. Where were they? Were they okay? Would she be able to see them soon? Hermione wondered if Harry never found the happiness he needed so desperately in his life, would he end up alone like Snape? Harry and Severus were so much alike. She marvelled that they could not figure that out. Both headstrong, brave, intelligent, and loyal. She thought about Ron. Sweet, wonderful Ron. She knew that they would never admit it, but there was nothing The Weasleys would want more than for Hermione to be Ron's bride. She loved Ron, she truly did, but not in that way. He would always be her anchor, but...
The tears began to fall upon her pillow. Would she hear him when he returned from the coven's meeting? Would he be hurt? Would he want someone there to help him? Her heart felt heavy. She knew without a doubt that despite the age difference, and the reaction she knew she would receive from those closest to her, Severus Snape was the man she loved. Knowing that he was somewhere in the ether having to live a horrendous lie killed her inside.
She stepped out of bed and slipped on a silk robe. She walked into the parlour, too scared to sleep, but too tired to do anything but wait. Hermione sniffed slightly and wiped the tears away. She curled up in Severus' leather chair and slowly drifted off to sleep, waiting for him to return to her.
Hermione wasn't sure how long she slept, but she heard the click of shoes on the marble floor in the hallway. She woke up and snuck down the hall. She heard Gromnett murmuring and Snape's heavy breathing. She stood breathlessly by the door, eavesdropping on their conversation.
"Mr. Snape, sir, can I get some salve for you?"
Hermione heard Severus' raspy, weak voice. "Gromnett, please, just ice water."
The house-elf's voice quavered. "But sir, the burn…"
"My injury will not respond to salves, Gromnett. This burn won't go away. Remember a few years ago, how this arm tingled for weeks?" The house-elf nodded his head in the affirmative. "It will be like that again. I am thirsty, though. Just give me some ice water, please. " Severus groaned, then breathed a heavy sigh. "Oh, and Gromnett? Make sure Miss Granger is returned to her room."
The sun rose slowly in the east, the sky looking like an orange and purple velvet tapestry. The rays broke through the clouds and into Hermione's bedroom, illuminating the walls with a type of lush splendour. Hermione was too tired, and too nervous, to notice. Since Severus returned from the revelry, she had been unable to sleep. She heard faint whimpering echo down the hall from his room all night, and the scurry of Gromnett's feet ushering water and other, stronger substances. She splashed her face with water and wrapped her robe about her. Gromnett stood at the ready in the kitchen.
"Shhh, miss. Do be quiet. I've lulled Mr. Snape to sleep. He needs his rest," the old elf whispered.
"I shall be quiet, Gromnett. How is Mr. Snape?"
The house-elf twisted his ears in anguish. "I've never seen him in such pain, miss. Not since…Oh, bad Gromnett!"
"Not since when, Gromnett?" Hermione pressed. Gromnett nodded and sighed.
"You deserve to know. I am under no obligation to keep secrets," Gromnett started. "See this hole in Gromnett's leg?" Hermione shook her head yes, appalled at the horrific sight. "I got this by defending Mr. Snape as a young boy."
Hermione gasped. "Defending him from whom, Gromnett?"
The elf twisted his ears again, his great eyes watered. "Mrs. Snape. Oh, she was an evil miss. Always beating poor master, always bringing nasty men home for frolics, always calling Mr. Snape terrible names. One day, she had had too much firewhisky and she called for him. 'Severus! Severus, you worthless brat, come here! Mummy wants you!' she screamed. It was horrible. I'll never forget it.
"Master walked into the room and she attacked him! She beat him with her shoe. I heard him screaming for help and I ran into the room. Young master Snape was black and blue, his nose was bleeding, and he cried out for her to stop. The worst was yet to come. Mrs. Snape grabbed a hot iron from the fireplace, and she charged at him! I leapt in front of him. 'No one hurts Master Snape!' I yelled at her, but she lunged again, and I got this," he pointed to the hole in his leg.
Hermione choked back the tears. "Gromnett, you brave, good house-elf. You…you saved him."
"Yes, but both Mr. Snape and I were hurt badly for my bravery. If it weren't for the start of school in a week, she would have beaten him to death. Young master Snape used his knowledge of potions to heal me as best he could. He never forgot my sacrifice, and he set me free after his mother died."
"But…why did you stay? You could've gotten another job somewhere, at Hogwarts, at Durmstrang!" Hermione looked the house-elf straight in the eye.
"No. Mr. Snape needed someone to care for him. He was alone, and scared…"
"Snape, scared?" Hermione interrupted.
"Oh, yes, miss. Scared. Mr. Snape is afraid only of one thing, and that is the Dark Lord."
"Everyone is afraid of him, except for Dumbledore, of course."
"No, miss. The Dark Lord has a special power over Mr. Snape, and it frightens him. I don't know the rest, I am very sorry." Gromnett had fully twisted his ears and his squashy nose was beet red.
Hermione sat in the chair next to the kitchen counter and leaned onto her elbow. "I wish there was something I could do."
"There is, miss." Gromnett looked up at her with his large, expressive eyes as he put a kettle onto the stove and prepared a flight of tea for his master. Hermione took the tray in her hands and slowly walked down the hall toward Severus' room.
----
The thick, dark green curtains were drawn shut on the windows and also on the giant four-poster bed in the middle of the room. It smelled of eucalyptus leaves and menthol. Hermione held a dimly lit candle in one hand, the tray of tea in the other. The room was very quiet except for the even breathing of its inhabitant.
"Gromnett," Severus whispered, his voice husky, "is that you?"
Hermione opened the bed curtains slightly. "No, Severus, it's me. I've brought you some tea."
"Please leave it on the desk there." He took a ragged breath. "Miss Granger …perhaps you should consider packing your things and going to the Weasleys."
"You need someone to take care of you, and Gromnett can't do it all," the girl said firmly.
Snape coughed a little. "Now, now, Miss Granger. Being headstrong will lead to nowhere. You need to be put in the Weasley's very capable hands."
Hermione poured the tea for him and handed to him through the curtains. "Why can't I stay here?" she asked.
Severus took another deep breath. "You need protection, and one little house-elf won't do. While I'm away, this place is useless. Regardless, you would feel much better if you could see your friends, which you wouldn't be able to do here. Is that understood, Hermione?"
"Severus…"
"Miss Granger… is that understood?" He said in a stronger tone of voice.
Hermione bowed her head. She knew that he had made up his mind, and there was nothing she could do to change it. "I understand. When shall I leave?" She heard a slight cough.
"When I am able to escort you properly."
"Severus," she began, "I…I know about Gromnett's leg."
"Indeed? I assume you know the circumstances behind his injury?"
"Yes. I want you to know that…well…I am sorry." Hermione heard the rustling of his sheets.
"You have nothing to be sorry about. What's past is passed. It would serve you well to remember that some people don't like to drag up history. But…thank you for your consideration," Severus said uneasily.
"You didn't deserve it. No one deserves that."
Hermione tried to peek inside the curtains, but he carefully reached out and took hold of her hand, stopping her from moving the heavy bed drapes. "This is something you don't want to see. You can go now."
Hermione walked out of the room, and Severus pulled the bed drapes open just enough to peer out of them. His noble face was purple with bruises, and his left eye was swollen shut. The Dark Mark burned intensely. Severus stared at the door, thinking of Hermione's obvious concern for him. He knew that his feelings toward her were more than the ghost of a boyhood fancy; as he thought perhaps they were while he was still at Hogwarts. He truly loved her, and that was why he had to let her go.
"No one will ever hurt you, my dear girl. Least of all, me."
----
A week had passed. Severus stayed secluded in his room, the drapes pulled tight around the bed, speaking to Hermione only when she brought food into his room. No amount of magical healing would help the horrible condition of the injuries inflicted on him by the Death Eaters. The purplish-black of his bruises gradually faded to a sickening yellow, then eventually healed. He looked at himself in the mirror in his bathroom, examining his battered face, still tender to the touch. He poked at the swelling below his left eye and put an icepack on it.
He heard Hermione's sobs late at night, and he knew it was on his behalf. He also knew, although she never admitted it, that she missed Potter and Weasley more than she could say. It touched Severus to the core that anyone could have that type of relationship with someone. The companionship she knew with those boys was something he would never have, and it pained him. Hermione didn't need him as much as he needed her, but he had lived nearly forty years without love, and could live forty more.
He dressed in his most Spartan robes, hoping to fool himself into a stern mood. The more detached he felt, the easier it would be to give Hermione back to the Weasleys…the easier it would be for him to return to Hogwarts to face another year of idiotic students asking stupid questions and ruining simple potions.
"Worthless emotion," he growled to himself, but he didn't believe it.
-----
Hermione had been packed for days, knowing that as soon as she heard Severus' footsteps down the hall, it would be time for her to leave Snape Manor. She had grown to enjoy living there; despite the shabbiness of its interior, the house was beautiful. It would be so much different at the Burrow. She couldn't lie to herself and say that she wasn't looking forward to seeing the Weasleys again. They were such an important part of her life. It was like going home again.
She had gotten an owl from Mr. Weasley, informing her of Ron's sudden, nasty break up with Emma Dinwiddie. Apparently, Ginny had seen the Hufflepuff holding hands with a seventh year Ravenclaw named Brock Reddick, and had told Ron of her infidelity. Ron, in turn, sent a Howler to the school, and their relationship was over. Ron and Harry were at the Burrow, spending a few days with the Weasleys before they went their separate ways.
So, Ron was single again, Hermione thought to herself. Maybe he'll want to ask me out. She smiled. Once upon a time, maybe she would have taken him up on his offer. He had grown into a fine looking young man with broad shoulders and muscular legs. He had been asked by Quidditch World Cup officials to become part of their organization, which was a dream come true for Ron. Harry grew to be the spitting image of his father, James, with the exception of his mother's startling eyes. Harry spent a lot of time lifting weights, become stronger for his eventual final fight against Voldemort. His body was lean and toned. At the time being, he was going to be assisting Arthur Weasley in the Misuse of Muggle Articles Department as a liason. Hermione smiled. Her friends were such handsome boys. She was stupid not to be interested in them, she thought.
And yet, she wasn't interested in them. Her awakening happened when she first tasted Severus' kiss. She knew that it was Severus, only Severus, that would spark that fire within her soul. It was hopeless. He had treated her coldly for the last few days, and now he was sending her away. Maybe he didn't feel the same way she did. Maybe he never did.
"Miss Granger, it is time to leave. Please make sure you have everything."
Hermione grabbed her duffle and walked into the parlour. They would be travelling by Floo Powder to the Burrow. She worried, for a moment, what Harry and Ron's reaction would be when she appeared with Snape by her side. She was also saddened that the seedling of a relationship between she and Severus had seemingly died. He had taken to calling her Miss Granger again, as if the ardent kisses they shared had never happened. Maybe it was best that she returned to the Weasleys.
Severus was dressed as he would if he were teaching potions. Hello, Professor, Hermione thought. Goodbye, Severus.
"You and I will leap into the fireplace together. I do not want to lose you during our transport," Severus said in his most aloof tone. He threw a handful of powder into the fireplace. The two walked into the green flames. "The Burrow," Severus said calmly.