AN: /does the dance of the Update\ I've missed HG/RL in my life. It's a tad short, but it's something, right? I'd like to blame all typos on the fact I whipped this up in two days.
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Last Chapter: Dumbledore simply stared at him. "Do not abandon your post. There are still parts yet to be played out in this." With that he blinked out, leaving two people with furrowed brows.
Between shrieks, "The lock and the key…the lock and the key…"
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Creakily, he made his way up the stairs. He had removed the sling Poppy had put his arm in, along with the bandages that had crisscrossed his back. She could be overcautious about injuries sometimes though the excessive amount of dittany she spread on his back had helped erase the scarring effects from the night before. He felt himself tense as he heard movement in his bedroom. Since Dumbledore's visit, he had not left the sofa nor had he seen Hermione. Slowly, he peered into the doorframe.
She was gathering up a shredded pile of fabric and dumping it into a wastebasket. The rest of his room looked amazingly untouched except for the desk which had every drawer haphazardly pulled from it. She swung around to see him standing there before quickly diverting her eyes and busying herself elsewhere. As she pushed drawers back in, he came up behind her and simply said, "I'm sorry."
A brief pause and she answered quietly, "You're not the one who should be apologizing."
Incredulously, Remus looked at her, replacing a book before closing the last drawer. "What?" was all he managed to say.
"I said," Hermione looked up at him, "you're not the one who should be apologizing."
Far from comprehension, Remus placed his hands on her arms, "I'm not quite sure how that works. The other night I put you in the gravest danger possible. I could have bitten you. I could have hurt Jonathon. I could have killed you, Hermione. And you're telling me I'm not the one who should apologize? I'm surprised you're still able to stand here and let me even touch you after what happened. To say the least, I haven't a clue as to what you're getting at."
Hermione broke her gaze to look behind her at the desk. On the top sat a row of vials Remus hadn't noticed before. With a growing creep of dread, he recognized all four of them; three were never to be on display. He watched her pick up the one that used to contain the Wolfsbane. "This," she answered, brandishing it in his face. "It's all my fault. Dumbledore found it in the hall where you dropped it and found traces of sugar in it which-"
"Makes it completely useless," finished Remus. "How is that your fault? Snape prepared it; it had to have been him."
Her eyes were growing moist as she fervently shook her head in disagreement. "It wasn't. All those vials are from the same batch and the rest were fine. As soon as Dumbledore mentioned the sugar, I knew. I was making that potion the other day and the last ingredient was sugar."
She paused, biting down on her lip. Continuing, she explained, "There was a vial on the table; I knew I hadn't put it there, but I put the sugar in anyway. I didn't know it was your Wolfsbane. I-I should have realized and-and…" Hermione trailed off as pressed her lips together as if to hold off the mix of emotions she was holding back.
With great care, Remus gathered her into his arms and spoke into her hair, taking in the smell of raspberries that clung to it, "You of all people don't need to apologize. This wasn't your fault - you had no idea - and I don't want to hear anymore about how it is, alright?" He drew her back so he could look at her. Only a few tears trailed down her cheeks then in true Hermione fashion she opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off, "Not another word."
She nodded, though very reluctantly, before taking on a tone that clearly channeled the older nurse, "What are you doing up anyway? Pomfrey expressively said bed rest for a few days and for you not to move an inch."
Twisting his arm around as if to prove his point, Remus said, "She underestimates the other attribute of lycanthropy, regeneration. If we didn't heal very quickly, doubt there'd be too many of us living to see another full moon."
Hermione rose from where they had been sitting on his bed, returning to the vials lined on the desk. "You need these for the full moon don't you?" She pointed at the first two. "Emotion Equilibrium and a senses duller. Why didn't you tell me you were out? I could have brewed you more."
Remus stared down at his hand; the ones that morphed into claws once a month. "Severus was making them for me; I didn't want to burden you with that." He glanced up at her and wished he hadn't because she was fixing him with a thoughtful look.
"You didn't want me to know," she added to the silence. "Is that why you kept them in the bottom drawer? Did you believe I would think less of you in some way?"
Sometimes I hate it that she's so good, thought Remus as he tried to make his case, "I just didn't want you to know I needed such things. I've only been trying to shield you from the full moon, from seeing things like last night."
Clearing her throat, she said in a matter-of-fact tone, "I'll start on new batches of both tomorrow." She softened though the determination was not gone as she said, "I'm not a little girl, Remus; you can talk to me."
He caught her arm as she returned from putting up the vials. "I know," was all he said.
Hermione gave a slight nod then picked up the last vial, the AP on it glittering. "And this one," she said triumphantly as if she couldn't wait to get to it, "is going in the trash. You don't need it."
A flick of the wand and it soared into the trash bin with a satisfying clink. Remus looked on slightly aghast. "But…but… ever since I was bitten, I've taken that. What are people going to say if I stop taking it?"
"Aging Potion, Remus," started Hermione, one hand on her hip, "is not necessary. More than likely, people are going to compliment you instead of bothering you about it. It's completely silly to age yourself to such a degree."
"De-aging overnight is going to raise a few eyebrows. I'll look too young," said an exasperated Remus.
"As it's been wearing off," said Hermione, ignoring the look Remus gave her now of surprise, "you've only looked better. Well," she stopped as the look changed, "Remus, you looked good before…just now less…er…stressed and not so…uh…worn out."
She bent down and placed a kiss on his forehead. A grin on her face, she said, "Either way, you're still the most handsome and definitely sexist man I've ever met."
"Only men you're meeting these days are me, Severus, and Dumbledore," countered Remus.
"I'd figure you'd be glad to have beaten those two out," quipped back Hermione as she flashed him a mischievous smile and strolled out into the hall toward her room.
"You're not getting away that easily," said Remus as he got up to follow her.
Once in her room, he grabbed her from behind, causing her to startle. Turning around, Hermione quickly found her lips occupied. Remus broke apart and asked seriously, "How's Jonathon?"
She took both his hands and placed them on what she had been referring to as 'the beach ball' of late. "He's fine," she answered, driving back his worries. "Just as active," Hermione flashed back to the shield, "as always."
"Good," he said, then wrapped his arms around her again. Hermione returned the hug and placed her head on his chest. It was as if he feared he would lose them both if he ever let go.
"Remus?" said Hermione, her eyes locked on the bottom drawer of her bedside table. His hidden secret had been revealed, but hers was still locked up tight.
"Mmhmm," he said, pulling back to look at her.
She glanced quickly up at him and back down before her eyes set on him again. "I've just been meaning to tell you about -," she paused and found she could go no further. His waiting, expectant face, so full of trust, stopped her. She couldn't break that.
Putting on a quick smile, she finished, "I just wanted to say how glad I am that you're okay. I was so worried."
Remus expressed reassurances to her about himself again and he watched as her face betrayed that she had meant to say more. But what?
Flashes of images fly past her as she tried to focus on the person moving forward in front of her.
"What's happening?" she tried to yell over the din.
Megan Hollowell only shook her head, indicating she couldn't hear what Hermione was saying to her. She opened her mouth and Hermione watched her lips move but no sound came from them. Instead the other witch grabber her hand and pulled her along.
The surroundings faded from vision to only darkness as solitary harsh screams and cries of pain pervaded her hearing. As she fumbled around blindly, she felt a cold hand grab her ankle. She furiously shook it loose before nearly breaking into a sprint.
Close to her ear, the familiar voice said, "Almost there…so close…almost…"
With a start, Hermione jerked awake on the living room couch as cheery beams of late afternoon sunshine shown in through the repaired bay window. Sitting up, she pressed a hand to her forehead before feeling on her ankle where the hand had touched her. It felt cooler than the rest of her body.
She didn't know how long she had fallen asleep on the couch and speedily jumped up to prevent that from happening again. Not that she felt she could close her eyes and not wait in apprehension for those sounds to fill her head again. Looking around the repaired and much neater looking room, she left in search of the only other sole occupant of the house.
At the moment, she didn't want to feel alone.
Remus was seated at the kitchen table, pouring over a slip of paper. One look at his grave face and Hermione knew that whatever it said, it was far from good. Sitting down, she waited for him to explain.
Sighing, he put the paper down on top of the folder. "It's from Dumbledore. I don't know how long it's been in here; he hasn't dated it. He says he didn't want to worry us unnecessarily since we already have enough to deal with."
"And?" prompted Hermione after a pause.
"It seems an explosion occurred in the dungeons. Snape was down there at the time. They initially feared him dead; the debris was packed into the space."
"Initially? That means that don't anymore?" said Hermione in a flurry.
"They've looked through it thoroughly and no sign of him. Later, it was discovered he responded to an Order distress call right before the explosion. The only person they found from the call's coordinates was the body of Susan Campbell."
"Not Susan," interjected Hermione with a stunned expression.
"I'm afraid so," answered Remus. "There was sign of a struggle and no traces of Severus there. Through Portkey tracing, they found two people arrived at the glade and three people left."
"He's been captured. So, he could still be alive, then?" asked Hermione, trying to put the best spin on it.
"It looks like he has, but," here Remus took her hand, "that doesn't guarantee his life. I shudder at the thought of what Voldemort would do to a traitor to him like Severus." He felt Hermione shiver involuntarily at Voldemort's name. "But he's amazingly resolute when he puts his mind to it, so I'd like to think there's some hope for him."
"But it's not likely," said Hermione quietly.
Remus' eyes avoided hers until he finally looked up and answered, "No, it's not."
The clock next to her bed blinked 12:34 am. Hermione sat straight up in bed just as she had ever since she first laid there at 10:00. She had refused to shut her eyes; the thought of the insane dream that had happened during a nap seemed to only intensify as the night wore on. Finally, she let out a long breath and faced the facts. She'd have to wake up Remus or else she'd never make it sanely through the night.
Creeping along, she entered his room. This time she had a different approach; she'd just out right tell him instead of giving him a shock by being there the next morning. Silently, she crouched by his bed and nearly recanted the whole thing right there as she watched him sleep so peacefully. Getting some gumption, she barely whispered out, "Remus."
"Uh?" he answered groggily.
"Remus," she repeated a little louder.
Another incoherent response was all she got.
Some werewolf senses! Hesitantly, she placed a hand on his shoulder and gently shook him and repeated his name for a third time, "Remus!"
"What? What is it, Hermione? Something wrong," he said as his eyes snapped open and he sat up in bed.
She suddenly felt stupid for why she had woken him up and could only look at her bare feet. "Ummm…nothing's wrong. I was just wondering…ah…if I could-"
Without her finishing, he slid over in the bed to allow her room to get in. As he pulled the covers over them, she rolled over and said, "I just didn't want to be alone tonight."
His hand found hers in the dark and he kissed her fingers laced with his before pulling her close. Hermione at last felt herself settle down as she could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back. His hand was her only anchor as she slipped away into oblivion and she knew it wasn't going to be a blissful one.
"How about you freak out at your last visit," hissed Megan as Hermione opened her eyes to an environment she had only seen parts of before.
"I was stuck in a damn whirlwind of colors and noise! What did you expect?" she answered, matching the others tone.
"I don't control how you get here or how you experience it; I'm just here to get you from point A to point B, okay?" said Megan defensively.
"Okay, okay," said Hermione, her hands up in front of her. "Fine, but last time you said we were almost there. So, I'd rather like to get this little house of horrors out of my head so I can sleep in peace every once in awhile."
"Not sleeping bad now, are you?" winked the other.
Hermione blushed furiously following Megan down a maze of barely lit corridors. "Excuse me, how did you even-?"
"I know people and I know emotions. You're radiating some major man-happiness, through that evil glare, I can tell. Now let's go," and grabbed Hermione's hand leading her to a dead-end hallway.
When they entered another hall lined with heavy door and guards that occasionally opened slots in the door, the screams from earlier came back. They were cries of pain, loss, misery, and surrender. Maniacal laughter came from one as a guard opened the slot and cursed the prisoner into silence.
"These are the dungeons. This is the lowest level for the people who are the highest offenders," explained Megan in hushed tones though no one took any notice of them.
At last she led Hermione to a door on the right and pointed at it. "There. Down it lies in the dark, waiting," she repeated the line she had told Hermione earlier. "Go and find out what's waiting."
Hermione stepped forward then looked back. "Are you not coming with me?"
Megan only shook her head. "Only Point A to Point B. You're on your own now." Then amazingly she shook Hermione's hand and said, "Good luck and I hope you and the kid give that bastard Voldemort hell."
She could only nod and say, "Thank you," as Megan Hollowell waved and faded away.
Turning back around, she faced the door and slowly opened it.
His body stiffened at the noise. It was as if the door was creaking, but it wasn't moving. Another thing to add toward his list of reasons why he knew he was going insane. The next thing though he was not prepared for and cemented the fact that he had lost his mind. A very familiar female voice said his name, from inside his cell.
"Professor? Professor Snape?" she repeated.
Cautiously, he raised his head in search of a source. Nothing at first then, materializing out of a corner was a silhouette. He couldn't help but gape openly as it took shape into a very solid-looking, very pregnant Hermione Granger.
"Either you've died or I have," he said to the apparition.
"Merlin," she said, kneeling next to him, "I don't what the bloody hell this is, but I'm certainly not dead and thank God that you aren't either." With that Hermione did something she never thought she'd ever do, she flung her arms around the old Potions Master and hugged him.
Strangely enough, Snape could feel the embrace as if she was really there. All the strain of imprisonment and seeing her, brought everything in him to a head and he chocked out while trying to keep a calm façade, "Hermione, I'm very sorry for the position I put you in. If had had any idea of what he had been plotting, I would have stopped it. You don't deserve to go be in such a situation, one that has me in it in the worst possible way."
"This isn't your fault and you're in it worse than I am. As soon as I wake up, I'll inform Dumbledore about this and we're going to get you out of here," promised Hermione.
"Wake up?" Snape looked at her strangely.
Hermione nodded. "This is just a dream for me. Megan Hollowell has been leading me to you."
"But she's dead," stated Snape.
"I know," she whispered. "It's all very confusing; I have no idea. Some nonsense about people higher up ordering her around."
Snape stared in front of him into the semidarkness. "You'll never get me out of here. It's protected with a charm and only Voldemort can give up the location. Doubt you're going to sway him otherwise."
"Don't say that," she answered. "You're getting out. You have to see Jonathon and in order for that to happen, you've got to get out of here."
Snape smiled slightly. "Jonathon? I bet Lupin was happy when he heard that. You know, when he's not sprouting hair periodically, he might be an okay dad." The next part was mumbled, "Couldn't be worse than his teaching."
Hermione opened her mouth to talk, but the jingle of keys stopped them both. "Someone is coming," hissed Snape.
"I don't think they can see me," said Hermione anxiously. The door's lock rattled as someone started to open it.
"Before you go," said Snape frantically as Hermione stood up, "I've got to tell you something. They've told me to tell you."
"What? Who?" she asked her eyes going from him to the door and back.
"I've been hearing them. I'm supposed to tell you," he stopped as the door opened and a guard stood in relief against the light. He showed no sign of seeing Hermione.
As the other man entered the room, she could feel herself being pulled away, growing fainter in the cell.
In a rush, Snape yelled out to her, "The lock and key must find each other. The lock and the key."
"I told you to shut up abou' that," growled the guard as he raised his wand.
The last thing Hermione saw before her eyes snapped open was Snape screaming to her not to forget and a violent red light coming down on him.
Her breathing caught in her throat as she woke up miles away from where she had been just before. The calm of the night sharply contrasted the high anxiety from the cell. Unknowingly, she squeezed Remus' hand she was still holding hard in response to the rush of coming back. She felt him stir next to her and she quickly rolled over to face him.
"Remus," she said, almost breathlessly as if she had just come back from a run. Hermione disentangled their hands and placed it on the side of his face, feeling the stubble from where he hadn't shaved.
"Hmmm, Hermione," he answered, his eyes gradually opening and a smile playing on his lips as his hand traced up her arm to where she held his face.
"I just had a dream," she said.
"Of what?" he asked, yawing at the end.
"It was of Snape," she said her eyes wide. "I visited him and he's not dead."