Warning

This story is not suitable for readers under the age of sixteen. It contains sexual content, including some non-consensual, and may offend some readers. If this subject is offensive to you, please do not read this story.

Chapter 26 – Blood and Roses

"Have you spoken to Hermione yet?"

The voice came from below Ron and to his left, as he rushed down the staircase, late for his next class. He stopped sharply and listened.

He didn't recognize the voice that had spoken, but he knew the second well enough.

"No, I've tried, but I never have the nerve." It was Alistair Baddock.

Ron edged to the banister and peered over, looking down onto the heads of the two boys at the foot of the stairs. The other boy, he now recognized as Malcolm, Alistair's younger brother.

He seemed to be finding the older boy's hesitancy amusing. "Just ask her," he said. "What can be so hard about that? You sent her the rose didn't you?"

Holding his breath, Ron listened closely. There was one mystery solved!

"Well, yes, but... "

The younger brother interrupted him. "Just talk to her. Anyway – I'd better get to class, or McGonagall will have kittens!"

He rushed off, leaving his brother standing deep in thought. Then he seemed to shake himself before hurrying off, leaving Ron staring after him.

Catching up with Harry at the last class of the day, he told him what he had overheard.

"So what do you think?" he asked. "Should we tell Hermione?"

Harry didn't think they had much of a choice about it. "She'll kill us if we don't and she finds out!" He thought about the news with interest. "He's not bad, as far as Slytherins go." He said. "It could have been worse."

Anything's better than Malfoy, thought Ron. "What do you think Hermione will say?"

There would be only one way to find out about that. As they stepped out of their last class, they thought they would have the perfect opportunity to tell her as she rushed past.

"Hermione!" Ron called out after her.

She slowed and turned, but was clearly in a hurry to be somewhere. "Hi, Ron. Harry," she smiled. "I've got to run. See you at dinner?" She hurried off.

"Wonder what she's in such a hurry for?" asked Ron, rolling his eyes.

Hermione did not want to leave Severus' office, but knew that Ron and Harry would be waiting for her at dinner. They had arranged to spend the evening in the library, getting a head start on their work, so that they didn't end up with too much over Christmas. They had only three school days left before the end of term, and none of them had plans to spend the holidays with their noses in books!

"I have to go, Severus!" she laughed, as he gripped her waist, holding her to him. "They'll be waiting for me."

Eventually, he relented, and released her. Giving him a final kiss, she stepped quickly out of his reach and headed for the door before he could change his mind.

"Just remember that tomorrow night is all ours, Ms. Granger!" he warned her in a dangerously low voice.

She smiled and closed the door quietly behind her.

Laughing to herself, she headed quickly through the dim corridor to the stairs to the main school. Her mind was so much on thoughts of her lover that she almost walked into the figure that was heading in the opposite direction. It was Alistair.

"Sorry, Alistair," she smiled, dodging him at the last minute before a collision.

It was only when she had already gone a few steps beyond him that he spoke her name. "Hermione?" She turned. "I... erm... wanted to ask you something."

He looked nervous, and seemed to be uncomfortable about something. "Sure," Hermione said, wondering what could be making him nervous.

"I... wanted to ask you... if... next time there's a Hogsmeade weekend, if... you'd like to go with me?" The last part was blurted out quickly, as though he wanted to say it before his courage died.

This was unexpected, and Hermione found herself momentarily at a loss for words. "I... "

He continued, trying to fill the awkward silence. "I understand if you don't want to. I mean,... " He suddenly changed subjects, and caught her off guard. "Did you like the rose?"

If this conversation had happened at the start of term, it might have been quite different, she reflected, but there was no way that she could think of anyone but Severus now. It was impossible to imagine herself with anyone else. Alistair was tall and good-looking, and she had enjoyed their dances at Halloween. She had found him pleasant to talk to, but she had no other feelings for him.

"I loved the rose," she said, truthfully. "It was a really sweet gesture. But... I don't feel the same way. I'm sorry."

Alistair's eyes were on the floor, and he didn't look up as he said, "That's... that's okay. I just wanted to ask." He seemed rooted to the spot where he stood, not knowing quite what to do now. Eventually, he managed a mumbled, "I'll see you around, then," but made no move to go.

Hermione felt awkward, wishing there was some other way to let him down. "I think you're a really nice guy, Alistair," she told him softly, "but... I'm seeing someone else."

He nodded. Hermione turned to go, but on impulse, she turned back to him, lightly touched his shoulder, and reached up on her tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for the rose," she said softly, then turned and headed up the stairs.

Snape gave Hermione enough time to be out of the corridor, then followed her towards the Great Hall. He would make the most of the time before the holidays, too, and make sure that his time with Hermione over Christmas would not be interrupted with anything as trivial as work! A quick dinner, then he would get his marking out of the way. With his lack of concentration over the last few weeks, he was well behind where he should be!

He stepped out of the classroom, strode down the passage, and stopped himself as he sensed people ahead of him. Hermione should have gone by now, but he didn't want to run into her. They were heading the same way, and it wouldn't do to be seen walking together.

Slowing as he reached the bend in the corridor, he saw two figures in the dimness. They had been kissing – they were drawing apart now. He should step ahead and break them apart – probably Slytherins, so a few simple put- downs would suffice, rather than actually taking house points! It was only when he heard the soft voice he knew so well that he froze in his tracks. "Thank you for the rose."

Hermione!

The boy – it was Baddock! Halloween. I never did like that boy, he thought. Oh, my prophetic soul.

His body was cold. Drained. Empty.

Forcing his footsteps backwards, he pulled into the shadows. He stood for a moment, then spun, his robes billowing behind him as he headed back to the classroom.

He didn't need to eat. Could miss going to the Great Hall. He had work to do. The piles of papers on his desk would not mark themselves and he didn't want to have to work over the holidays. He sat at his desk, calmly picking up his quill and pulling a stack of papers towards him.

Baddock. He forced his thoughts away from the boy in his house, and looked down at the paper in front of him.

Blood. Alyson Wright's essay on the basic uses of powdered lizard skins had several large drops of blood on the parchment, and he realized with detached awareness, that it was his. In his hand was an empty vial – it had been on his desk – he must have been moving it to make room to mark the papers. It was shattered into long slivers, and his knuckles were white as he still clutched the sharp shards.

Turning his hand over with remote curiosity, he watched the drips of blood run across his palm and fall onto the scroll.