AN: Please review, it means so much and gives me motivation to keep going! :)
The branches cracked and crunched under his feet as he stalked his way through the forest. By Lycaon, did he hate that man! One day, he would rip that man limb from limb and by the Gods he would enjoy every last second. He growled in fury, turning to punch the nearest tree and relishing the searing pain as flesh met wood. Imagining Snape's head, he punched the tree again, and again, picturing those cheekbones crunching under his knuckles, the nose exploding, those dark eyes puffing up as he continued ruining his stupid, arrogant, human face.
"AAARGH!" he roared, raising his bloodied hands above his head. His breath was puffing before him in little angry clouds as he stomped off towards his den. His pack would be waiting, and hopefully, with news.
Finally the great cave loomed into view, lit on either side by large flaming torches and patrolled by two impressively hairy and stocky men. They bowed as Greyback approached and he snarled in response as he strode past them and into the inky blackness of the cave. Once through the entrance tunnel, the cave suddenly opened up into a cavernous room, lit all around with torches and little moss fires here and there. The flames danced a flickering show across the stone and Greyback was once more reminded of a day in his distant past where he had sat as a child in a small clearing in the forest near his home, eagerly awaiting his friends for what they had hoped would be an evening of story-telling, joking and toasting nuts on the open fire. Except when he had heard those first rustles amongst the trees, they hadn't belonged to his friends, they had belonged to a great hulk of a man. A man called Thalik, who had in fact not been much of a man at all, but rather a werewolf. As he had screamed for help and tried to run, he had been pinned to the ground and before the razor sharp teeth had embedded themselves in his throat, his eye had been drawn to the flickering patterns of firelight dancing across the trees…
Greyback shook off the unwelcome memory and strode briskly over to a large area filled mostly with sleeping rugs and slumbering werepeople. Scanning the sleeping bundles, he finally spotted the one he was looking for and grabbed him fiercely by the shoulder, dragging him to his feet. Startled from sleep, the man looked about himself in bleary-eyed panic before settling his gaze on Greyback.
"Sire, forgive me!" he whimpered. Greyback hoisted him off the ground a little.
"Pray tell me Lycane, that you have news for me?"
"Yes sire!" He stumbled as Greyback abruptly released him and threw himself down on a sleeping rug, eyes intent on his messenger.
"Well go on then," he hissed.
"Sire, this female – Hermione Granger, is a former student at Hogwarts. She remains there, completing her studies and assisting the Order of the Phoenix. She is a close friend of Harry Potter. It has been said that she is the brains behind Potter, and she is very capable with magic."
Greyback rolled his eyes. Wizards and witches and their stupid pieces of wood. He seized an apple from a barrel beside him and took a huge bite. He gestured for the man to continue.
"You asked me to find a way to get to her. It won't be easy, Hogwarts is heavily warded and there is strange magic about the castle. Some even say the castle breathes, sire!"
"You won't be breathing soon if you continue to vex me. Get on with it!" he snarled.
"Yes sire! Her weakness is her blood status - Granger has muggle parents who live outside of the wizarding world –"
Greyback smiled. Time to go muggle hunting.
XXX
"Minerva I know you don't want to hear it, but this was Severus! His magical signature is all over her, over the locator charm – over her skin for Merlin's sake!" Dumbledore cried, exasperated.
"No Albus, he wouldn't do something like this –"
"Minerva – the poor girl has been obliviated! Whatever happened tonight was necessary! For whatever reason, Severus has had to remove her memory! I'm sorry if that hurts, but it is the truth!"
"What of the runes then?"
"They are protection runes. When traced a number of times over the skin, the magic instils itself in the magical core of the recipient. It is a very advanced usage of runic magic, and very potent. Hermione has been given a high level of protection from a powerful source. Since the magic is supplied by the donor, its efficacy is determined by the strength of the wizard or witch, in this case, Severus. No magical harm shall come to Hermione whilst Severus lives. Should Hermione be hurt, cursed or hexed, it is Severus who will feel the effect, not her."
"So he is sacrificing his life for her? These are not the actions of an evil man, Albus! These are actions borne of love!" Minerva refused to believe Severus was capable of doing such a thing to Hermione, but in the face of such undeniable evidence she was forced to rely on solely on her knowledge of him and his motivations, praying she was right.
"There is something else which is rather interesting. One of these runes is linked to memory. I'm not completely sure, but I think Severus has stored her memories somehow, to be retrieved at a later date when the rune is reactivated. It would seem that he didn't want the memory loss to be permanent. Whatever happened between them must have been too important to lose." He pondered the thought for a moment.
"Do we tell her?" Minerva asked, chewing on her lower lip as she viewed the unconscious woman.
"I don't think Severus would have taken the decision to obliviate her lightly, there must have been a very good reason for him to do it, so we must trust him in this."
Minerva nodded thoughtfully, "Agreed."
Their attention was drawn back to the bed where Hermione was gradually stirring. As her eyes fluttered open, she pressed a hand to her head with a low groan.
"Hermione, dear, its Minerva – how are you feeling?"
"Ugh, groggy, I guess. What happened?" she asked wearily, glancing around her. If she was surprised to find herself in the hospital wing she didn't show it.
"We're not sure, Miss Granger. It would appear that for some reason you went into the forest and at some point, you have collapsed. Do you remember anything at all?" Dumbledore asked gently, coming to sit in the chair beside her bed.
Hermione frowned as she tried to recall something, anything.
"I remember waiting in the forest. It was cold, I could see the lights from the castle and then someone apparated beside me," her face creased in distress, "then nothing. I don't remember anything else until I just woke up here, with you."
Minerva rubbed her arm gently. "It's okay dear, you are safe. Whoever it was that you met made sure you were protected, and that we found you. I don't think you were ever in any danger."
"Wait – Severus!" She sat bolt upright and started to pull the covers off, making to swing her legs round but was stopped by a gentle hold on her arm.
"Severus isn't here, he hasn't returned to the castle," Minerva said softly. Her eyes were sad, full of compassion and she took a deep breath before continuing, "I'm sorry Hermione, but he won't be returning."
Hermione froze, eyes wide. "It didn't work?" Her breath hitched, "He's not, he didn't –"
"No, no dear! He's alive!"
Hermione closed her eyes in silent prayer before opening them and fixing the older witch with a pleading look "You've seen him then? When? Is he okay, I mean really okay? Did the potion work?" Questions exploded out of her in a fevered rush as she gripped Minerva's hands tightly, "Please – is he cured?"
Dumbledore and Minerva exchanged a quick look before the Headmaster reached out to his former student and gave her arm a gentle rub, but there was something in the way he was looking at her that gave Hermione reason to pause. A softening of his eyes that made her wary, the feeling that something unpleasant was coming.
"I believe he is going to be okay, thank Merlin, albeit he will not regain full strength for some time. It is to be expected given the severity of his injuries." He gave Minerva another quick look before plunging on, "However, I do have some news you might find upsetting and I hate to be the one to break it to you Hermione, but Severus has tendered his resignation, effective immediately." His look was so baleful in that moment that Hermione knew he was absolutely serious. "He isn't coming back."
"No!" Hermione gasped, attempting to struggle to her feet as Minerva gently pulled her back. "He wouldn't do that – he wouldn't just turn his back on us! Not after all he has sacrificed!" She didn't want to say it out loud but she couldn't bear the thought of him turning his back on her, on what they had built together – of what their future might hold.
"I can't believe – I mean, have you seen him? He actually told you that, himself?!" her heart was thundering in her throat, she felt sick.
"I have been formally notified by Lucius Malfoy, that Severus's replacement has already been appointed by the ministry. I'm sorry, Hermione, but it is true. It would appear that Voldemort is not of a mind to release our Potions Master back to us."
Hermione could only stare at the Headmaster, aghast.
"Lucius informs me that Voldemort has taken great interest in Severus's seemingly miraculous recovery and now intends for him to brew some sort of strengthening solution for him."
"But it wasn't a strengthening solution!" Hermione blurted out, confused, looking rapidly between Minerva and Dumbledore.
"Indeed, but he is not aware of the source of Severus's recovery, and clearly he cannot tell him the truth. If Voldemort knew one of his most trusted death eaters had devised a potion to cure lycanthropy and thus rid him of his army of werewolves, there is no doubt that Severus would already be dead by now. No, for now Severus must return to playing the devoted death eater until we can devise a way to get him back without exposing him. It is the only way to keep him safe." Dumbledore sighed, rubbing his face wearily. In that moment he looked infinitely old, the burdens he carried etched in every line of his wrinkled face. Hermione almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
"Then I suggest you start devising, or whatever it is that you do when you need to manipulate someone," she hissed, shrugging off Minerva's restraining arm and surging to her feet. She moved to within an inch of Dumbledore's face and eyed him with open disgust. "But let's not forget the reason why Severus now finds himself in this position – let's not forget how your most prized puppet now finds his strings being jerked by another master – because of you, Professor, because you made a grievous error in sending him to Remus."
The older wizard managed to meet her eyes for a long moment before letting out an exhausted sigh and averting his eyes.
"Yes, I made a terrible mistake. One that will no doubt haunt me until the day I pass from this world. But I am only a man, Hermione, with faults and failings like everyone else. That I should have placed Severus in such danger causes me great pain," his voice cracked and he swallowed hard, "I care very much for him, as if he were my own son."
Minerva snorted in disbelief and came to stand beside her former student.
"There will be time enough for wallowing in self pity when all is said and done and we are resting in our graves, Albus, or Merlin forbid, haunting these corridors and frightening the students! But for now, our time is much better spent trying to find a way out of this new predicament. I suggest we all try and get some sleep and we shall reconvene tomorrow in your office when we are more rested."
XXX
When he was younger, the sight of the turreted outline of Hogwarts used to fill him with wonder and excitement, promising unexpected adventures with his friends, but now, that once friendly and inviting view filled him with an unshakeable sense of dread. First assignment as a fully qualified Auror – subdue and detain Severus Snape. He still couldn't quite believe his spectacularly bad luck in being handed such an impossible task. He grumpily trudged towards the huge arched doorway, fiddling with the high collar of his heavily starched Auror jacket. It was uncomfortable, and itchy too. He took a deep breath and strode through the open doorway with a confidence he definitely didn't feel and schooled his face into a carefully rehearsed expression – firm, non-negotiable, a face to command respect. He paused at the foot of the grand staircase, the doors to the Great Hall to his right and took a deep breath. So many memories. Hermione. He sighed as he pushed the memory of her face out of his mind. There was no going back. Word had it that she had found someone else, not willing to chance her heart on him again – not after their final row, anyhow. Hermione had wanted him to continue at Hogwarts but he had made up his mind and about taking up an apprenticeship with the Ministry to train to become an Auror. The arrogant part of his mind had convinced him that Hermione didn't believe he could do it, that he would fail like he had so many times at Hogwarts. Well, he'd prove her wrong, wouldn't he? They hadn't spoken since that fateful day over twelve months ago when he had furiously stormed away from her, refusing to listen or to even talk about it. Merlin he had loved her. It had been the hardest thing he had ever done, but he walked away from her, from whatever their future might have held and in doing so, had also walked away from Harry. He was looking forward to seeing him at least.
Looking about him, he saw a couple of Ravenclaw students whispering and giggling, batting their eyelashes in his direction and he allowed them a salute and a slight nod. The uniform was really quite something he had to admit. It had a powerful effect on young witches that much was clear. He left the girls gossiping behind him and headed towards the staircase and onwards towards the corridor that housed Dumbledore's office. He paused at the gryffin and announced himself.
"Auror Weasley, for the Headmaster."
There was a soft click as the staircase rotated and locked into place, and he wasted no time striding up the stairs taking two at a time. He paused outside the familiar door and took a deep breath. He felt like a schoolboy again, summoned to the Headmaster and he couldn't help the butterflies rioting in his stomach. He gathered his courage and knocked firmly.
"Enter!"
The door swung open and he stepped confidently into the room, his face held in the stern expression he felt best suited to his new position. He took two confident strides before his step faltered and he froze mid-pace. The Headmaster wasn't alone, far from it. Albus Dumbledore stood beside Minerva McGonagall, his usually warm face set in hard lines, his eyes unsmiling. The Head of Gryffindor house reflected a similar expression, her lips pressed into a thin line. Seated beside them was Harry and –
"Ron?" Hermione surged to her feet and bounded towards him before stopping abruptly as though only just recalling their fractious last meeting. She suddenly looked at the floor, hugging her arms around herself.
Harry had also jumped up, the only person in the room to acknowledge his presence with genuine warmth, crossing to him quickly and enfolding him in a bear hug. He clapped his back hard.
"Ron, you did it! I knew you would - congratulations!" he beamed, moving back from him and running an appraising eye over him, "It suits you!"
"Thanks mate," he replied bitterly, not taking his eyes from Hermione, "Nice to know someone had faith in me."
Hermione looked up and met his eyes, her expression cold. Without saying a word she shook her head and sank back into her chair, taking up a steaming mug of something and clasping it tightly in both hands.
"What brings you to Hogwarts, Auror Weasley?" Dumbledore enquired, moving to sit down behind his desk. He steepled his hands before him and regarded him curiously over the top of his glasses.
Ron produced the Ministry warrant and handed it to him. "I am here to detain Severus Snape, on order of the Ministry – "
"Then I'm afraid you have had a wasted journey, Mr Weasley," Minerva replied tartly, folding her arms across her chest, "He is no longer a member of staff here."
"There must be some mistake –" he began.
"There is no mistake, Severus resigned yesterday and he has not been on the premises for a couple of days now," Dumbledore interrupted.
Ron gave the aging wizard a sharp look. "Then I must insist on having access to his personal file, including his home address and –"
"No. That will not be possible, I'm afraid," Dumbledore interjected again. He was smiling, but his tone was firm. "I am not at liberty to divulge personal details of former staff members. Had he still been a member of my faculty then of course, I would be obliged to give you the information you require, however as he is now a member of the general wizarding public, I am duty bound to protect this information."
Ron snarled in frustration and slammed both hands down onto the desk. Minerva jumped, one hand going to her throat in surprise.
"Listen Dumbledore, I am under strict orders to detain Snape – "
"Professor Dumbledore, Ron – and on what grounds?" Harry demanded. He reached a hand out to his friend only for him to shrug it off with a snarl.
"On the grounds that he has tested positive for lycanthropy and is considered a threat to both muggle kind and the wizarding community," he forced out between clenched teeth. "Not, that I should have to explain myself! I am a Ministry Auror and I deserve respect!"
Harry stepped back as though burnt. "Easy mate, what has got into you?"
Ron whirled to face him. "I'll tell you what's got into me – Snape! The black bat of the dungeon is finally going to get what he deserves, and it will be down to me! A Weasley of all people! I can't wait to see his face when he realises I'm going to be the one to send him to Azkaban!"
"Mr Weasley! I don't like your tone!" Minerva hissed indignantly. "Much has happened here over the past few days, and clearly, you do not possess this information otherwise you would not be speaking like this! Calm down and we can discuss this in a more sensible way."
Ron glared at his former head of house. "I am not yours to command anymore, Madam! I have a badge of authority and am fully trained to hold it." He moved his travelling cloak to the side, showing the glistening Ministry badge and the wand holster at his hip.
Dumbledore rose to his feet, his chair scraping back across the floor. "I sincerely hope you are not trying to intimidate us, Auror Weasley."
Ron turned to face his former Headmaster, his gaze fierce.
"I don't need to – I am here on Ministry business, I have authority here and you are obstructing a ministry employee in the execution of his duties! I could have you for this, all of you! But no, I'm not here for you, this time. It's time Dumbledore, you've protected Snape for long enough – the man is a Death Eater!"
"That's quite enough Mr Weasley!" Minerva hissed. She looked angrier than he had ever seen her, and he was surprised to find it gave him a little thrill of excitement. He pressed on.
"And you! You were our head of house! We were supposed to be under your protection! Yet you did nothing to stop him, nothing to support us against him as he bullied us mercilessly," he pointed at Dumbledore, "you are as bad as him!"
"Ron – where on earth is this coming from?" Harry demanded, grabbing his old friend by the shoulders and hauling him round to face him. Ron struggled against his grip and turned his blazing eyes on him in fury.
"I am here to do my job! Now unhand me Harry, before I do something I regret!"
For a long moment the two old friends locked eyes before Harry stepped to the side and allowed Ron to barge past him. He paused at the doorway and turned to look over his shoulder,
"When you see Snape, tell him I'm coming for him and that I will take great pleasure in the moment I hand deliver him to the Dementors! His first kiss will be his last!"
Then he was gone, the wreckage of his oldest friendships lying in his wake.
XXX
"Severus! So good to see you on your feet!" Voldemort swept into the room bearing a wide smile that lacked genuine feeling and moved towards the desk where his death eater stood, leaning heavily against the desk as though the very wood were holding him up.
Severus closed his eyes and took a deep breath before lowering the stirring rod and turning to face his lord, offering a stiff bow, all that his still recovering body would allow. The previous night's events combined with his most ungraceful apparition into a solid brick wall had not done much for his recovery.
"Forgive me, my lord, I am still not quite recovered." A massive understatement. It was an almost monumental effort to stand at the desk, let alone engage his brain sufficiently to try and devise a potion to give the deranged man eternal life. He hastily drew his occlumency shields up as he felt a warning prickle – Voldemort tentatively knocking on the door of his brain.
Voldemort drifted closer, his eyes scrunched in scrutiny, "Indeed, I hope it will not impair your ability to serve me?" He ran a cold finger across Severus's hand, ghosting his way down the long fingers, his eyes fixed on the contrast between his grey, sickly pallor and the most intriguing paleness of his Potions Master's skin. "You know how much I loathe weakness, Severus." He turned red eyes on him and regarded him critically.
"No, my Lord. You shall have the best of me, as always." He inclined his head, trying to ignore the fierce pounding in his temples and focused instead on the gently simmering cauldron before him.
"As it should be," Voldemort replied softly. His silken robes swished across the flagstones as he made his way around the desk, eyes flicking over the various ingredients and journals filled with Severus's spidery hand and finally coming back to rest on the pale face of his death eater.
"I take it you have already commenced research into my potion?"
"Yes, my Lord. Although I regret to say it is very early days and I am yet to devise a stable base for it."
Voldemort gave him another critical once over. "You understand the urgency, Severus?"
Recognising the dangerous tone of his voice, Severus chose to tread carefully. Only one way around Voldemort, massage his ego and tell him you'd die for him.
"The potion must be precise, my Lord, I do not wish to provide you with a substandard potion that does not deliver that which you desire."
"It is a delicate art, potions making, and one I was never inclined towards. Ensure there are no unnecessary delays, Severus. I am not a patient man." He offered Severus an open smile, displaying the two rows of sharp, blackened teeth. The smell of decay was so strong it was all Severus could do not to heave right there and empty his stomach contents over the Dark Lord's freshly laundered world domination robes.
"I have another request, Severus. I wish to send a message to the old fool, Dumbledore."
"My Lord?"
"In person. At Hogwarts. With my Death Eaters."
Fuck. Alarm bells began resounding through Severus's head. Fuckity fuck. Think Severus!
"It will be difficult, the wards –"
"You will make it happen Severus, and soon." He whispered in his ear, his hot breath tickling across his skin. An impossible task, but to decline would be futile and would likely end in a punishment that his battered body could ill afford.
"It is somewhat problematic now that I have been retired from my role –"
The slap came so hard and fast he didn't see it, and suddenly he was facing the other direction, a searing pain spreading across his cheek. It didn't do his pounding head much good.
"Do not disrespect me, Severus."
"Forgive me, my Lord."
"You cannot remain teaching at Hogwarts when I require you here. It is a simple fact. Mulciber is well placed to admit us entry into the castle when the time is right. So I shall ask again - tell me, when will the potion be ready?"
"It is difficult to predict, my Lord. It is a prototype and they can be volatile. It will require testing –"
CRACK. He was facing the opposite wall once more.
"Do not try my patience." He hissed as he advanced again, reaching out a cold hand to caress his flaming cheek, "It does not please me to have to chastise you Severus, especially in your weakened condition, but I cannot have failure. You are a Potions Master, you have the necessary skills and you will find my followers will fetch all that you require."
Severus thought on his feet. He hadn't made it to the ripe old age of 38 living as a double agent for the two most powerful wizards of his era without learning the subtle art of bluster, and he employed it now.
"There is one ingredient I require, my Lord. A most rare and precious one."
"Go on," Voldemort's interest was piqued, as he knew it would be.
"A drop of your blood, my Lord."
Silence. Voldemort narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
"Why?"
"You are the most powerful wizard of our era, my Lord. It stands to reason that your blood would act as a most potent catalyst, potentially enhancing the power and longevity of any potion. It has been said that Merlin himself used to put a drop of his blood into his potions for he believed the magic would transfer. I believe there to be some merit in this and would like to try it." He detested the words even as they came out of his mouth, hated the simpering tone of his voice. It ate away at him, to be subservient to this tyrant but serve he must, and he was gratified to see a flicker of pride on Voldemort's cadaverous face.
"Ah yes, very astute Severus. Blood magic is indeed, potent! You may have a drop of blood, do not waste it." He took a small knife from the desk and promptly stabbed the end of his forefinger, watching in fascination as the blood welled up and came to drip into a small glass vial. As three fat drops splashed into the vial, Severus allowed himself a smirk. Clearly the mad fool couldn't count either. Voldemort healed the cut with a lazy flick of his hand before drifting back towards the doorway. He was almost through it when he suddenly looked back.
"Oh, and Severus?"
"My Lord?"
"Do not fail me."
XXX