This is hopeless his mind grumbled sullenly as he closed his eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of his slightly hooked nose, drawing in a deep breath. A heavy sigh rolled over his lips, shimmering on the frigid air of the dungeons as it curled upwards like silvery clawing fingers. I will never be able to find a permanent solution for Lycanthropy, I just cannot figure out how to stabilize the potion completely he thought dejectedly. Of course its all the same to me, Lupin is perhaps easier to deal with an as overgrown fleabag anyway, he chuckled to himself after a moments thought, his lips curling up into a sinister grin. His mind danced and frolicked at the mental images of Remus Lupin chained up, snarling and snapping like the filthy beast he was. Would serve him right for being friends with that damn Potter and Black. Granted he never did anything to harm me, but he never intervened either, how I hate that man, almost as much as Potter.
For an instant his smirk of pleasure shimmered, barely hovering above his chiseled features as tortured memories of his childhood came crashing through the barricades he had so artfully erected within his mind. The air was suddenly driven from his lungs as if a mighty blow had been dealt to his chest while images of his painful past flooded his thoughts. Bowing his head, his raven silky locks falling around his angular face like a veil to hide his raging pain from prying eyes he squeezed his coal eyes shut. Deep shaking breaths racked his slender frame, hunching his shoulders and drawing his robes tight across the prominent ridges of his spine.
With each long and drawn out breath a little more of the agony floated away, bitterness flooding into its place until once again he had regained some semblance of composure. Raising his head slowly his face was once more set in the ever-present sneer of contempt and malice. Ice cold eyes narrowed into their usual squint until only a little of them showed beneath the sleek black lines of his brows. The flickering lights of the few torches scattered around the room gleamed in his eyes, his gaze more fierce and likely to turn a man to stone than Medusa herself. He was fearsome and callous looking once more, no foolish emotions threatening to show themselves again as he stiffened his back and squared his shoulders in defiance of his brief moment of weakness.
A fierce intelligence flickered behind his stare, the light of the torches dancing in his eyes in time with the racing of his mind. A fresh surge of inspiration flowed through his veins like fire in his blood, electrifying every nerve ending and pore until he was tingling with new revelations. At once he was again bent over the desk, his face mere inches from the parchment before him, writing with a gusto verging on mad obsession, his hand occasionally darting to the ink well beside him. The only sounds on the freezing and stagnant air of the laboratory were that of his raged and passionate breaths, and the furious scratching of his quill.
Many long hours were spent thus; his only movement that of his hand at it flew across the parchment in his cramped and scrawled handwriting, spots and smudges of ink carelessly strewn across the paper. The shadows in the room lengthened as the hours ticked by like minutes, the parchment rolling and rippling over his desk and across the floor like a waterfall. Ignoring the demands of his stomach and protests of his hunched back and shoulders Severus wrote for hours, his mind racing almost faster than his hand could write until finally his fingers cramped painfully around the sleek black feather quill and he sat back with a groan of irritation. Frustrated with the apparent limitations of his body he sat back and let out a long groan as his aching muscles and spine screamed out loudly in protest at the sudden movement.
Running hands that bore almost more ink than the scrolling parchment before him through his hair, leaving smears across the sharp angles of his cheek he closed his eyes and let his head fall backwards. Closing his eyes until the dark half circles of his lashes lay against the pale skin of his cheeks he let out a long sighing breath, his thoughts beginning to slow as exhaustion closed a vice-like grip upon his mind. Rising slowly and somewhat painfully to his feet, not daring to straighten his back completely he glanced down at the parchment that extended over the edge of his desk and well beyond the first row of laboratory tables in front of it. With a slight flick of his wrist the parchment rolled itself up neatly before rolling into the top drawer of his desk which promptly closed and locked itself to keep his research away from inquisitive eyes.
Striding back towards his private chambers with as much flourish and determination as he did when walking the halls of the castle late at night in search of students breaking curfew, he swept into his small sitting room to see Hermione once more curled up at the end of the settee with a book in her hands. His almost permanent sneer twitched into a grin for a brief moment as he watched the firelight flicker in the room, casting dances shadows across the walls and causing her hair to shimmer like a halo around her lowered head. She looked almost angelic to him in that moment, pure and untouched, innocent and oh so naïve, deliciously naïve to his darker side, that hungered for the corruption and pollution of unsullied souls.
Innocent indeed! he scoffed, probably the little fuck toy of the entire Gryffindor tribe, how else would the little know-it-all get any kind of physical attention other than being the pet of that pest Potter and his sniveling sidekick Weasley? For a brief moment Severus felt a twinge of guilt at his seemingly unprovoked and malicious thoughts, his scowl deepening as he berated himself mentally for such cruelty. There is no way you could know such a thing Severus, he scolded himself fiercely. This is most likely the picture of virtue and purity, untouched by the hand of any man, or fumbling snot-nosed teenager… ah yes, but she needs the touch of a man doesn't she? The sure and experienced touch of someone who has known true passion and pleasure. A hand that could guide and mould her into a young woman, for all young women have needs… wants… deep, dark desires that must be fulfilled… His mind continued on in a dark and sinister voice that even made him shiver and tremble at his own vileness.
Slowly raising her head from the book in her lap after catching a glimpse of the dark figure in the corner of her chocolate brown eyes, Hermione watched Severus visibly shudder. Laying her book to one side she rose to her feet, curling her sock-clad feet against the cool stone and took a small step towards him.
"Are you cold Professor? Perhaps I could fetch a blanket for you?" she asked in a soft and demure voice, a slight flush rising to her cheeks as her eyes drifted from his cold and narrowed eyes to the broad expanse of his chest and shoulders where his arms lay folded firmly. Get a grip on yourself old man! She is but a child; she could never have interest in someone such as you. You are dark and brooding, unaccommodating and cruel; there are no redeeming qualities about you except your extensive knowledge and ability to turn anything into a scathing remark. Babes cry at the sight of you and your fellow professors live in fear of your wrath. Now stop this foolish game and end these ridiculous notions of attraction before you do something truly foolish like kissing her pert little rosebud of a mouth… Enough!
"That is quite enough!" he growled to himself, unaware that he had done so out loud. Hermione's eyes grew wide at his gruff and sudden outburst, the flush in her cheeks blanching in a heart beat as she took a retreating step backwards towards the settee.
"Professor?" she stammered barely above a whisper, her voice cracking as she spoke fearfully. His sensitive nose all but twitched as he detected the scent of fear coming from the girl standing across the room from him. Ah see she is terrified of you. Can you smell it? The heady perfume of fear as it radiates off of her, hell she wreaks of it, that pungent and enticing scent, you want more of it don't you? You want to be the cause of it… Yes… No! No, I do not want her to fear me, to shrink from me with that wounded look in her soft, warm eyes, I want her to… To what? Desire you? Love you even? You really are a fool! Soon you will be nothing but fodder for the Dark Lord, a plaything to be broken and discarded. You are weak you stupid boy! His inner voice crooned to him in response to his raging thoughts, its tone vicious and spiteful as he gazed almost longingly at the girl before him, the firelight catching stray wisps of her hair, making them appear as fairy fire surrounding her gentle face. Her brows drawn down in a look of concern as she watched him with an unfaltering gaze, her lips pursed in a thin line of worry.
"Are you well, Sir?" Hermione asked in a soft, almost inaudible voice as she rose to her feet and took several tentative steps towards him. Severus consumed by his own internal battle did not immediately notice her approach, the soft shuffling sound of her feet moving across the floor drowned out by the raging voices of his mind, one betraying him and the other berating him.
"Professor?" Hermione ventured a little louder as she took another step towards him, unfalteringly studying the turmoil evident in his face, in the way his lips drew ever thinner in an expression of exasperation, his dark eyes unfocused and glazed seeing nothing of the room before him. "Are you alright, Professor?" she asked once again, her voice growing louder with each word, his reverie finally snapping like a taunt rubber band, the ends recoiling dangerously fast.
"What? Yes, yes I am fine Miss Granger, I do not need you coddling me" he snarled ferociously as he turned swiftly on his heel and stalked towards his desk where he all but threw himself into his chair. Resting an elbow on the arm of the chair he rested his cheek against his palm, shielding his face from her gaze and thus also hiding the color that was quickly rushing to his cheeks from her as well.
A large rift of silence fell across the room, the only sound that of the crackling fire and their equally uneasy breaths as Hermione returned to the settee in confusion, and Severus tried to ignore the thoughts that swirled through his mind in a relentless torrent.