Chapter 11

She stood in the moonlight, barefoot and breathing heavily. The large snake slithered towards her, but the desire to run was not there. She waited for it, longed for it and desired to feel the cold scales on her skin. The snake wound first around her legs and worked itself up around her torso and then her neck. A distinct hissing noise came from the beast's mouth. A slight mist covered her view as the snake transformed. Pale, strong arms now held her. Hot breath in her ear. She brought her hand up and caressed the pale skin. A growl of desire was heard from him as he felt her warm hands touch his skin. His other hand released her and he held his hand out in front of her. In his hand appeared a vial. Clear glass filled with a purple liquid. A mint green mist grew from the liquid inside. Severus Snape held the potion to her nose and she smelled a faintly sweet smell. His lips grazed her cheek as she turned to face him.

Hermione woke up suddenly. That was new. Hermione had only fallen asleep a few hours ago. It was now five o'clock in the morning and now she was very wide awake. As she always did, she wrote her dream down on a scrap of paper and decided to go ahead and begin her day. She stumbled to the shower and passed Elmer on her way in.

"Morning Elmer." Hermione mumbled.

"Ghastly…I tell you…" Came his voice.

Hermione had been working tirelessly on dissecting the Cruciatus Curse for a week. She had run it by Elmer who went silent at the mention of it. She shrugged it off, couldn't get lucky twice, now could she?

She had spent the better part of the past two days casting the Cruciatus Curse on her plant life in the lab. All three had withered and drooped after being victim to her torture. Hermione poured water into the pots and felt tears sting her eyes. What a horrible Death Eater she would make? She couldn't even crucio a plant.

Hermione worked for another few weeks. Over and over again as she tried every angle she could think of. Nothing she came up with, nothing she designed, made any difference. The Cruciatus Curse still withered her plants and nothing protected them. She could not bring herself to do it yet on the snakes or the bugs. By the third week, she added a strengthing solution to the plants to see what effects it had. She cast the curse, only to kill plant #7 in the process.

Every night she worked late. Every morning she was up before dawn reviewing her notes. She had lost weight and now had dark circles under her eyes. She avoided Elmer at all cost. It was one month after her twenty first birthday when Hermione was helping Sylvester organize her papers, when she came across a small scrap of paper with scribbled writing on it. Her eyes swung back and forth and she fidgeted with her hair.

"Syl, where was this?" Hermione asked him. Sylvester glanced at the scrap of paper and then back to his work.

"Just another piece of paper the Misses leaves around. I not be throwing anything away until you tells me. Sylvester won't be a bad elf." he shook his head and continued to work. Hermione patted his shoulder and walked in to the next room.

It was her dream she had the other night. The purple liquid with the mint green mist. It was to have a sweet aroma. What did that mean? Hermione had literally walked out of Divination while in school and she never put much stock in dream interpretations. However, lately, as she delved further and furtheri into a project, she realized that once her mind relaxed, her brain was able to function. Thus, sleeping with paper and quill next to her bed was a necessity.

Hermione set off to her library and collected her potions books and set to work.

Three days later, hermione had exhausted every single resource she had. She could not find any potion that matched the one in her dream.

In a fit of exhaustion, she threw a book across the room and held her head in her hands.

"The misses is alright?' Sylvester whispered to her. Hermione spoke from somewhere underneath all of her hair and arms.

"No." Sylvester patted her on the back. He was a tough elf. He oversaw everything that concerned his mistress. Her meals, cleaning and helping her with experiments. He loved his mistress dearly and thought she was the "most best mistress ever", as he called her to the other elves not in her service.

"Maybe…maybe you be needing some help. Sylvester knows nothing of potions. Doesn't my mistress know anyone who knows lots about potions? A Potion Master?" Hermione slowly raised her head and gave Sylvester a severe look.

"Have you been talking to Elmer?"

"Misses knows Sylvester is not liking that thing! I don't speak to nothing that ain't supposed to be speaking!" Hermione nodded and bit her lower lip. So now she was faced with the dilemma she had long since feared. Should she contact him? She was certain there were a million Potions Masters and Mistresses scattered around the globe. But none that knew her. None that she trusted. None that already knew her research.

But what would that mean? Is that the reason she was having those dreams? In her dreams, she was waiting for him. He was the snake and she…his prey? Hermione shook the thought from her head. He was no longer the big bad Potions Professor. He was Severus Snape, a man that had what she wanted. What was it she wanted? Help. Would he give it to her? She had no idea.

Her nerves were frayed as she considered writing to him and requesting his assistance. She wondered, somewhere deep in the recess of her mind, if she would be attracted to him now. He no longer had authority over her. He was no longer was able to demean her. Not that he did always. When she was younger, yes. But as time went by, his snarky attitude quieted somewhat and he became more withdrawn than he ever was. He didn't lash out. But he didn't reach out either.

Maybe it was time someone reached out to him? Hermione squared her shoulders and summoned a paper and quill from the desk. She began writing.

Dear Professor Snape…..