Disclaimer: The characters and the universe of Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. No disrespect is intended. This story is written for sheer enjoyment. No profit is being made from it. The story itself is mine.
The Puppet's Master
Chapter 5
Underneath a Weeping Willow, Hermione stretched lazily in a field of lavender in her dreamscape. She felt… peaceful. Such a long time since that particular emotion had revealed itself to her. She sighed in complete contentment as the sunshine bathed her relaxed form. The gentle brushes of plants beneath her tickled her bare feet, causing her pleasure at the simple sensation to bubble forth in the form of a tinkling laugh.
She felt a stirring in the currents of air and jumped up from her supine position. Her face brightened still further as He came into view. She drank in the sight of him while swiftly moving to intercept him.
"Lover. I have missed you."
His onyx eyes trapped hers even as his long legs strode towards her. He gathered her body in his arms and, bending his head to capture her mouth, tasted the truth of her welcome. After a small eternity of blissful kisses, he raised his head to gaze into her eyes again.
"And I you, Beloved."
He gently turned her and escorted her back over to the willow and helped her to resume her seat. The unfortunately forgotten mannerisms of the old-world gentleman were still appreciated, even by a modern witch. Once she was comfortable, he lowered his frame to the ground and gracefully lounged beside her. He still held her hand in his as his thumbs drew lazy circles upon her flesh, caressing the inside of her wrist.
Hermione shuddered as the burning of desire in the pit of her stomach flared at his touch. Her eyes dropped shut to savor the feeling, an almost inaudible noise emitting from her throat. He watched her single-mindedly and when she opened her eyes, he gave her a sensual smirk that spiked her desire to an almost fever pitch. Her throat and lips dried, even as all moisture in her body streamed down to her core. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, a movement which his heated eyes followed.
With a growl, he gathered her close once more and crashed his lips down upon hers. His tongue traced the sweet curve of her mouth, a suggestion of entrance that brooked no refusal. She parted her lips with no hesitation and was promptly lost in the sensation of his tongue firmly stroking hers, running over her teeth, and conquering her willing mouth completely. The continued to taste each other for several minutes, each touch becoming more heated, each nip a little harder, each stroke a little firmer. Finally, he made a concerted effort to pull himself away from her, letting a deep groan loose when she moaned in protest.
"Beloved, we must stop, for now." He admonished her as she clung tighter to him, attempting to maneuver his mouth back to hers. He gave a low chuckle that had absolutely nothing to do with humor at her actions, but gently, though firmly, removed her arms from around his neck. He leaned against the willow and pulled her back into him. His arms caressed her sides as he began to speak.
"Beloved, you must return to the waking world soon. Events of much import have occurred this night, but you will not know of it for some time. It saddens me, Beloved, that you will also not remember this time in the waking world." He glanced down at her wide eyes and was unable to resist planting a small kiss on her pert nose.
"What do you mean I 'won't remember this time'? How could I forget you, my Lover? What do I care for important events around me if I haven't you?"
"Oh, my Love," he sighed. "This is for your own safety. My enemies would not hesitate to use you against me. How could I survive, having finally found you after a lifetime of waiting, if you were taken from me? My Heart, my Own. Your waking mind will not remember me as this, not as your Lover. Your soul will never be fooled; your soul knows its mate. But your mind will not for a time."
Hermione's eyes blurred as tears of frustration trembled on her eyelashes. She understood his reasoning. She was, after all, logical above all else. But not knowing her Lover, knowing there was a part missing, but not knowing what. Oh, the pain would be so harsh. She gathered her courage around her and nodded her head to indicate she understood, though she could articulate no response for the closing of her throat.
He pressed her lips once again in a kiss full of promise and love, no less moving than the heated kisses of before, but somehow more enduring. He pulled back once again.
"Beloved. When you wake, you will not remember this. But there is a book that will help you to find your way back to me. The tome will be on your bedside table in your room. Beloved, appearances are often deceiving. You must carefully weigh each piece of information you receive, both through book knowledge, and people. You must begin to question motive." His gaze bore intensely into hers as he struggled to communicate the severity of his words. These words would be remembered, though their time would not. He poured his soul into them, giving them power to remain in her memory.
"I will remember, my Lover. I will soon be with you, as we are meant to be." The promise in her eyes was almost his undoing. He swooped down and branded her with one last fiery kiss.
"I will see you in dreams, my Beloved."
With that, he vanished from her dreamscape, leaving her alone to ponder the familiarity of her Lover.
Severus opened his eyes and looked down at the form of the witch beside him. Her lips were red and swollen from their kisses in her dreamscape. He glanced at the tome 'Vampyre' and with a thought banished it to the bedside table in Hermione's room.
He then gathered her more securely in his arms and apparated into her room. He placed her in her bed and pulled the covers up over her body. He glanced down once more, laying a soulful kiss on her lips. Straightening up, he whispered the incantation to wake her and disappeared from the room.
As Hermione's eyelids flickered open, a dear face lingered at the forefront of her mind, even as her last words of the dream drifted from her lips "…as we are meant to be." And then, both words and image receded into her mind, to be remembered only in dreams.
Her eyes darted over to her bedside table and landed on the small tome resting there.
'Vampyre,' hmmm? I must have put it there after I came back from the Library last night. Well, let's have a look-see, shall we?
She grabbed the book and began to read, within moments immersed in the most intriguing work she had ever read.
Five a.m. found Hermione beginning to stir from the book that had captured her attention for the past three hours. Her stomach growled for the second time in twenty minutes. Sighing in exasperation, she closed the book, placed it on her bedside table and stretched her way out of bed. She glanced at her enchanted alarm clock; cast one last longing look at the book she was forced to abandon, even for a short time, and started toward the bathroom to prepare for the day.
She showered and dressed in record time and was almost out the door with her bookbag when she suddenly paused at the threshold and turned back towards the mirror. Without thought, she walked towards her reflection and was dismayed at what she found. Sighing once more, she brandished her wand and set to work polishing her appearance.
After the longest fifteen minutes of primping she had had to endure in a long time, she deemed herself ready to face the day. She critiqued her appearance in the mirror, gave a slight nod of satisfaction, and turned back towards the door.
It was only at the doors of the Great Hall that she questioned why she would be more concerned about her appearance today than she had been yesterday. She wracked her brain for the answer. Mentally shrugging as she drew a blank, she placed palms on the doors to the Great Hall in preparation of opening them. She paused another moment in an attempt to quail the curious combination of giddiness and nervousness that was settled in the pit of her stomach for some reason. She blew out a breath of air, lifted her chin and proceeded to enter the Great Hall with all the stature of a queen.
She glanced at the Head Table and was hit with an almost palpable wave of disappointment. Seated were Professors Vector, Flitwick and Sinistra. She nodded her greeting to them all the while trying to inconspicuously locate any other Professors in the room.
She started as she her mind finally caught up with her subconscious. Why do I care which Professor is here and which isn't. Good grief, Hermione! Get a grip. You just need your coffee, that's all. No caffeine and your mental processes fall completely apart. After sternly chastising herself for the completely out of character thoughts, she turned her attention to Gryffindor table and promptly felt her jaw drop in amazement.
"Harry?" she said as she beheld the incredible sight of her best friend, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, sitting at the table eagerly piling enough food onto his plate to do Ron proud.
He looked up at the sound of his name. His face broke into a grin and he motioned her over. "Come have a seat, 'Mione. It was getting really lonely here all by myself." He gestured at the near empty table with a hand holding a fork while patted the seat beside him with the other, encouraging her to sit down.
Hermione numbly walked over and sank like a stone onto the bench. Her eyes never leaving Harry's unusually animated face as she drank in the sight of him. His eyes are sparkling! Sparkling! That must be the first time in over two years that there's been any emotion there at all. There's no dark circles under them, either. He looks rested, and almost content. He's even talking about something other than Quidditch, for Merlin's sake!
Harry paused mid-shovel with the fork still in his mouth as he noticed Hermione's eyes still glued to him. He finished his bite of food, placed the fork down on the table and turned to face her completely. "Hermione," he began. "What's going on? Have I suddenly grown a third eye, or is there a reason you're staring at me like you've never seen me before?"
Hermione jolted out of her thoughts and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry about that, Harry," she said. She quickly gathered her thoughts, speaking carefully, so as not to banish his uncommonly good humor. "You just look really good this morning. You look, content." She winced at the word, but could not grasp another to describe her observations. She steeled herself for the inevitable explosion, and watched on in wonder, as it didn't happen.
Harry listened to what she said, absorbed it if you will. He cocked his head to the side and really thought about what she said. Content? I'm not really sure if I even know what that feels like. Hmm, I am feeling rather well this morning. And a complete night's sleep, no nightmares. Yes, I suppose I am as content as I've ever been. He focused back on Hermione's face and was disturbed at the resignation he saw there. Did she really expect me to get angry with her? He thought back over the past couple of years, ever since fifth year, and was disturbed at the knowledge that he had given her every reason to expect it of him.
He smiled at Hermione, which amazed her even more. "Thanks, Hermione. I feel content, I guess. It's amazing what a good night's sleep will do, don't you think."
Hermione let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and grinned back at him. She nodded and began to pile her own plate full of food. They held an amicable conversation, catching up on things they hadn't realized they had missed until then.
Severus did not sleep that night. He did not restlessly pace his quarters rebuking his lack of self-control with Hermione. He did not wonder fretfully about what the Headmaster would think of his liaison with the Head Girl. He did not search his soul for his own motives.
Severus spent the night in deep conversation with one Mr. Lucius Malfoy. He had cast an apparation bubble within his quarters, allowing Lucius the ability to bypass the anti-appartition wards surround Hogwarts. They had much to discuss.
"Lucius, old friend, how have you been these past few weeks?" asked Severus verbally, even as his mind bespoke his friends. "I would that we keep the pretense of mundane speech aloud. There are many ears in Hogwarts that should not be here. If I were to shield these quarters completely, my hand would be well and truly played before its time."
"The same as always, Severus. And how is my son doing this term? I have not had occasion to speak with him for many weeks. Can his godfather shed light on the Little Dragon?" Lucius replied. "Of course, Severus. How do you wish me to begin? By the way, might I commend you for the past evening's events? I am pleased that your flair for dramatics has remained untouched by the old fool."
Severus allowed a smirk to play across his features in answer to Lucius mental comment, as it was justified by the verbal as well. "Young Draco is progressing admirably. He is not the top of his class, but he is not far behind. I am honestly quite pleased with his success and position. There are many bright minds he has tackled and won over, not that I would repeat that at pain of Crucio, of course." "We must seduce Mr. Potter from Dumbledore's grasp. That is the first order of business. We must use any means necessary, as his support is more important than most will recognize. She would be most… unhappy, should any harm befall him. I would not have her unhappy, Lucius." He shot a sharp, piercing glance at the blonde beside him.
Lucius bowed his head respectfully; the gesture easily misconstrued as merely a 'good-bye,' especially when coupled with his spoken words. "As you see him more than myself, I trust your judgment in this matter. That you are pleased is enough for me, and I will use all of my resources to ensure that such favorable disposition continues. I shall meet you again in a month for continued report." "I will do as commanded, my Brother. Potter will not fall to Dumbledore, and your Beloved will not have cause to fret on my account. I have a few favors I can call in, as I am not entirely without influence. It will have Riddle's panache, as well."
Severus nodded in approval and bid him 'good-night.' Then, Lucius apparated from sight, Severus banished the appartion bubble. He turned and strode to the cabinet where his after-hours drinks were kept. He poured out a snifter of brandy, made his way to his armchair in front of the fire, sat down and contemplated his next move.
How is the best way to expose Dumbledore? More importantly, how can I do it quickly, without harming my Beloved?
He allowed his thoughts to pursue her. They found her in the Great Hall talking with Mr. Potter. Her happiness flooded his mind, as if spilling from an over-full goblet. He looked at Harry through Hermione's eyes and saw the relaxed, vibrant teenager in place of the haggard and bent, weary young man of yesterday. Hmmm. He thought. That is an improvement. It makes my Beloved happy to see her friend thus. He seems to take great stock in her opinions, that much has been made clear over the years. Maybe the question isn't how I can expose Dumbledore, but how Hermione can expose him. I am quite certain all Mr. Potter needs is a push, a third option to be revealed, and I will have him.
As the morning wore one, Hermione and Harry began to wind their conversation down. The Great Hall became noisier as more and more students came down for a quick brunch before heading to the last Hogsmeade weekend of the month.
They sat in companionable silence for a time, content just to be. Both knew that the uncertainty of real life would crash into their ideal far too soon for either of their liking. Unfortunately, real life chose that moment to intrude, in the presence of Albus Dumbledore.
As the aged Headmaster entered the Great Hall, Hermione became aware of a change in Harry. She glanced at him, confusion mounting as she took in his changed posture and facial expressions. Gone was the happy, animated face, the open, expressive face. Gone was the confidant set of his shoulders. Gone was the sparkle in his green eyes.
Hermione gazed upon her best friend, all pretense of covertness having disappeared. She took in his carefully blank face, his slumped shoulders, his flat, dull eyes. Her heart broke at the abrupt change in Harry. He looked like every burden he had previously been carrying had been slammed back upon his young shoulders, plus interest.
In confusion, she turned her gaze towards the Headmaster. He radiated joviality and sincere grand-fatherly warmth as always. That was not what made her catch her breath, though.
For a split second, when that warm twinkling gaze had alighted on Harry, a dark maliciousness had filtered in. Had Hermione turned her head a fraction of a second later, she would have missed it.
She furrowed her brow and swung her eyes back to Harry. His face and posture remained unchanged.
Harry felt her stare upon him and raised his eyes to meet hers. He could tell she had witnessed what he had been beginning to believe was just his imagination. He nodded once and spoke five powerful words. "Now you begin to understand."
At the Head Table, Albus Dumbledore was holding court amongst his sycophants. For the first time ever, the revered Headmaster was not aware that something of momentous import had just occurred with two of his students.
TBC
A/N: Wow. It's been, what, 5 months since my last update? Goodness, I am sorry. Hopefully, my other offering, 'Nemesis,' has been to your liking, and will hopefully help to tide everyone over while the next few chapter of 'The Puppet Master' are in the works. I'm finding it much easier to write Hermione than Severus. I adore both characters, but I think being a woman myself makes it easier to slip into Hermione's shoes (or in Nemesis' case, scabbard.)
Many many thanks to Fallenstar80 for her email encouragement. Everyone say a round of 'thank-yous' to this dear reader for lighting the fire under my muse's hind quarters so that I could get this chapter out. Alright, all together now: THANK YOU FALLENSTAR80!
As always, please read and review.