A/N: *scampers in, grinning*

*presents new chapter, wiggling with glee*

*scuttles off to scatter more about the place*

xx-Kitten.

Relligo Spiritus

By Kittenshift17

Chapter Four

Severus Snape sagged against his Potions workbench with a groan, suddenly devoid of energy, gripping the edges of the table for balance. Merlin, he hadn't felt this weak in months. He'd been recovering this past year, slowly improving as the weeks and months passed since the conclusion of the war and his subsequent, reluctant survival.

"What the fuck is she doing?" Severus hissed, baring his teeth as his strength waned further, taxing his energy and power viciously.

Severus didn't know how things had been for Miss Granger since his invasion of her flat at the discovering of their tethered souls almost a year ago, but for him, it had been painfully evident that they were linked. Every day he felt stronger, every day feeling the borrowed strength she leant him, feeling that his recovery was costing her some of her spritely youth. He had known, intimately, that the speed with which he'd recovered had, in large part, been owed to the bond she'd sparked between them and the energy that travelled through it to further tether their souls and tie him to this plane alongside her.

As such, Severus knew in a heartbeat that wherever she was, whatever she was doing, his sudden onset of weakness was her doing.

"Fuck," Severus panted, gripping the bench furiously.

She had to be in trouble. She had to be suffering – something taxing her body so rapidly that it taxed his, too. Hell, to be affecting him so rapidly and so encompassingly, the little wretch had to be dying. It served her right, he thought viciously, still furious with the ridiculous witch who had so robbed him of oblivion. Severus narrowed his eyes, pushing back to his feet resolutely, refusing to let this tax him so, trying desperately to shut down the connection between them as best he could.

Closing off their bond helped, but Severus could still feel his strength rapidly waning. He was forced to sit at his potions bench, trying to weather the storm, hoping it would be over soon. Breathing heavily through it and fighting a wave of dizziness that made his stomach lurch uncomfortably.

He sighed when reprieve came, letting out a shaky breath and pinching the bridge of his nose against his sudden headache. Sweet Merlin, what trouble had the girl gotten herself into now?

After barely a moment where he was able to catch his breath, the vicious pull on his strength returned tenfold, and in a heartbeat, Severus knew what ailed Miss Granger. He'd endured the Cruciatus curse enough times in his life to know the rhythm of that particular spell, and if he was any kind of expert, Hermione Granger was suffering under the Cruciatus curse right this very minute.

"Who the fuck would…!?" he growled, shooting to his feet and digging his wand from his pocket, trying to recall from his perusal of the newspaper throughout the year which of his fellow brethren were still at large and evading Ministry capture.

"Dolohov," he growled, his eyes narrowing, recalling with terrible clarity the curse that wretch had used on Granger when she'd been just sixteen. Severus himself had laboured over her agonized form for seventeen straight hours that night at the Headmaster's behest; Albus insisting that Harry would not endure the death of his best friend alongside the death of his godfather. "And Greyback!"

He had known that night after the Department of Mysteries that Dolohov's curse - having failed to kill Miss Granger - would imbed a tracking spell into her very flesh, allowing the wretch to track her down at a later date. Severus had warned Albus of it at the time, and steps had been taken to protect her home, her muggle parents, and her person as best they could without actually notifying her of the tracking spell.

And if Severus recalled anything from his time amongst the brethren of Death Eaters during the war, he recalled Greyback's regular insistence that he be allowed to defile the girl as he saw fit after she'd fought so fiercely and evaded them so well as to escape Malfoy Manor right from under their noses. Yes, if the girl was truly under the Cruciatus curse at this moment, Severus would bet hard earned galleons that they were the culprits. He also knew they wouldn't stop until they had tortured her into madness, probably defiled her into insanity, and then desecrated her corpse.

And since Severus didn't particularly like the sound of the wretched witch showing up here to haunt him when her soul was freed from her body and yet still tethered to this plane; to him; until he could get around to kicking the bucket himself, he supposed he would have to do something about it.

"Of all the wretched, selfish, idiotic, lazy, dunderheaded ridiculous," he snarled, reaching inside himself for the magic tethering them and tugging on it sharply before twisting in a tight circle, apparting directly to her side, still cursing. "Irresponsible, immature, unprepared, dim-witted, moronic, fucking stupid things to do! Who doesn't cast charms to keep Death Eaters at bay after provoking them?"

Severus was flat-out ranting at the witch when he landed in her back garden and spied her bloodied and unconscious form on the ground under Dolohov's wand.

Greyback turned sharply at the sound of his voice, his eyes narrowing.

"Snape?" he growled in surprise, evidently shocked to see him.

Severus supposed he couldn't blame the werewolf. He'd kept it very quiet that he'd survived. In fact, other than Miss Granger, everyone else who'd had a hand in his recovery had had their memories modified and Severus had been recuperating at home – a new home after his home at Spinner's End was destroyed by the Death Eaters when his betrayal was unveiled at his supposedly post-humous trial thanks to Potter's big bloody mouth.

"Greyback," Severus sneered before leaping into action. "Avada Kedavra!"

Greyback yelled in surprise before his eyes widened and he went down. It probably wouldn't kill him. More than once, Severus had seen this particular werewolf take a Killing Curse and live to see another day. Maybe he had a tethered soul, too. Maybe it was the lycanthropy. Maybe it was just bad bloody luck. Severus wasn't going to ponder the notion to find out.

"You!" Scabior sneered, turning to him, already firing sloppy spells at Severus, stepping over Greyback's prone form without a care. There was no love lost amongst villains.

"Scabior," Severus hissed, twirling his wand expertly and out-duelling the other man easily, though the vile prick managed to hit him with a few slicing hexes despite Severus's best efforts. Scabior had never mastered the art of non-verbal spells, so his intentions were clear with every curse he growled, but the little bastard was fast; faster than Severus, given his current lethargy thanks to the tax Miss Granger had placed upon his strength and his slow recuperation after Nagini's bite.

Severus parried one, two, three nasty but rather minor curses, deflecting them with an ease than made Scabior's eyes widen, nonetheless, before he realised he was outmatched. Scabior made to run, mouth open, his body mid-twist to disapparate.

"Avada Kedavra," Severus hissed again, catching the man just as his began to disappear.

The result was messy, half of Scabior's body splinching and falling in a gruesome mess upon Miss Granger's back lawn. The other half, Severus assumed, would rot in whatever bolt hole the fool had thought to invade. He only hoped it wasn't somewhere muggles might find the remains.

"Severus," Dolohov said, turning to Severus and lifting his curse from Granger where she twitched in the flower beds, her body half-covered by a toppled bird-bath, wet with the water from the device, as well as whatever unfortunate loss of bodily control had been wrought by the Cruiciatus.

"Antonin," Severus said mildly. "Always rather enjoyed lusting after the young ones, didn't you?"

"She ain't that young,' Dolohov scowled. "Be nineteen by now, I'd reckon. Maybe twenty. More than legal."

"Not that legality has ever stopped you before," Severus drawled, raising one eyebrow and daring the monster to deny it.

"Heard you were dead," Dolohov grumbled.

"We all have our ways of evading Ministry arrest, it would seem," Snape answered. "Thought you'd be in Russia, by now?"

"Borders are being too closely watched," Dolohov shrugged his shoulders, squaring up to Snape, his dark eyes fixed on him dangerously. He didn't look scared despite the short work Severus had made of them man's fellows, but then, Dolohov was fearless. Always had been while Severus had known him. Not even the Dark Lord cowed Dolohov.

"You shouldn't have come here," Severus told him mildly.

"Don't reckon you've got much business telling me she's too young if you're calling on her yourself, mudak," Dolohov smirked.

"How did you find her?"

"You know how," Dolohov grinned.

"And the wards?" Severus asked.

Dolohov shrugged. "Used to be a curse breaker, remember? Knew she was here from the tracking spell. Was just a matter of peeling back the layers of warding, one after another."

"And them?" Severus asked, tipping his head toward Scabior and Greyback. "Going to share her, were you?"

"Imagine how she'd scream," Dolohov practically purred, a dreamy look coming over his face.

Severus took full advantage. Dolohov dodged the Killing Curse, and flung an Ice-Vein Hex, but Severus was an adept dueller and had spent years studying the fighting styles of his fellow Death Eaters. Side-stepping the hex, Severus hit the other man with a Crucio, and Dolohov fell to the ground, writhing and screaming in agony. Severus didn't let up. Too often during his time with the brethren, he'd watched this man torture his victims into madness, playing with them like a cat with a mouse. Defiling them. Tormenting them. Desecrating them. No, there would be no reprieve now that this vicious creature was under his wand.

Eventually, the screaming stopped when Dolohov lost consciousness, but still, Severus didn't stop. The body at his feet twitched and juddered as though possessed, the viciousness of the magic he was unleashing proving an outlet for a good bit of his rage at the girl they'd come to defile. Severus didn't let up until he was certain Dolohov's heart had given out. Blood seeped from his mouth, his nose, his ears, and the corners of his eyes. The stench in the air suggested they weren't the only orifices no longer functioning as they'd been designed.

Severus cast a charm over the body to be sure, confirming he was well and truly dead. When he was finished, he turned to Greyback, who looked very much dead but was likely deeply comatose. After a lifetime of evil, Severus saw no reason to spare the creature and he cast the Killing Charm again, and again over Greyback's body, before resorting to summoning a silver dagger from Miss Granger's house and using it to carve out the creature's heart, using magic to crack open the ribcage before severing the heart from it's tethers. Severus cast a Killing Curse directly into the still flesh just for good measure.

His task complete, Severus turned his attention to the girl in the garden. She was still breathing, so thank Merlin for small mercies. He couldn't have dealt with her as a ghost for the next century or so until he kicked off. Sighing, weakened even more now and realising that for all that he'd gained enough strength during his recovery to go about his brewing and his gardening and fetching his groceries, he evidently wasn't up to the taxation of a duel upon the body, Severus supposed he'd have to do something about Miss Granger.

Casting charms to clean her up, he levitated the bird-bath away and then levitated her prone form in through the backdoor of the house – conveniently left open. The fresh-tilled state of the garden beds and piles of weeds, not to mention the rather homely state of her clothing, suggested she'd been out for a spot of winter gardening despite the chilly weather, and obviously she'd left the door open for the wee beast she passed off for a cat, which Severus noticed, had evidently been punted by one of his former brethren. The cat's prone, orange form lay in the garden under the window where he'd come to the defence of his mistress and befallen an ill fate.

Severus was too pre-occupied to check if the creature was breathing, but he rather hoped so, simply to avoid the blubbering he'd likely have to endure from the girl if her pet had been slaughtered. Getting her into the house, he levitated her as far as the couch before dropping her onto it and falling into an armchair himself. He was breathing heavily, and his head was spinning, dizzy and weak like he might join her in unconsciousness. Even knowing that the girl likely needed attention, for the time being, Severus had no choice but to surrender to the demands of his body and simply rest.