"sSSeverus, I see that you have come dressed for the special occasion." A voice was hissing in his ear.
"Yes my lord, I came as soon as you called."
"Not quite, Severus." A wand was pressed against his throat. "Something was keeping you occupied."
He tried to speak normally, "The fool Slughorn had trapped me in one of his hedonistic displays."
"Oh, yes, a stain on the Slytherin name. A coward and traitor is such a waste of pure blood."
There was silence. Emotionless masks examined Snape, shrouded by hoods.
"I will tell you once, Severus, do not keep me waiting."
"Yes my lord, I beg your forgiveness."
The snakelike man studied Severus with a detached look in his red eyes. His wand flicked slightly with a brief movement at his wrist. No words were spoken, but the spell could be felt already coursing through his veins.
"Very well, I will be lenient on your punishment so that you can thoroughly enjoy tonight's demonstration. Don't let anyone say that I wasn't good to you."
"Thank you, my lord."
He knew this one, the curse that began with one cut and continued to multiply. It was slow spreading, but blood loss was imminent. He hoped that whatever event was occurring would end quickly so that he could correct the damage before passing out. He didn't have to wait long to notice an Auror, the father of one of his students, suffering Cruciatus. As he watched the green glow in a disconnected manner, he wondered how long that the torture would continue for them both.
…
He called her Hermione, and she was left with more questions than answers. Severus Snape had just disappeared, leaving Dumbledore as their last line of correspondence. There was something akin to pain and fear in his eyes, but it was fleeting. Where was he? Was he alright? Why did no one else care? Did Dumbledore even know or care? A hot tear fell from her eye; she caught it in her hand and examined it. This was no time to go soft. There was a high likelihood that the man she cared for was in danger and she needed to figure out how to help. She stumbled out of the stairwell into something hard yet forgiving, it smelled of storage. She took a step back to examine Ron in his old suit from the Yule Ball.
She let out a laugh, "Ron, you can get that updated now you know. We have the magic to do so." Then, she realized why he would need such an outfit. She hesitated, "Ron, you didn't want to go to Slughorn's Ball- did you?"
"Are you asking me?" He looked hopeful.
"No, I'm sorry," She shook her head, "not tonight."
"Didn't you go? You look- nice." He blushed.
She smiled at the compliment. "Thanks Ron, I did, but it's really not the place for me."
"Did your date do something?" He asked defensively.
She looked at him wide eyed, lips slightly parted.
"You know," he continued, "Parvati and Lavender were saying how handsome and dashing he was and I wanted to see for myself."
She giggled a bit. "No, really, don't worry about it."
She felt a freckled hand on her shoulder.
"I could go back in with you, if you'd like."
"Ron…"
"You know I really wish you had gone to the Yule Ball with me instead of Krum. You looked really great that night. And tonight, wow. You've grown."
She was growing uncomfortable with her best friend's advances. "Thanks Ron, but I really don't want to. There's something that I need to work on."
Another freckled hand was placed against the wall, trapping her. She looked up into his clouded cerulean eyes that were traveling her body. She felt a sort of panic at this abnormal attention.
"Mister Weasley, I assure you that the only person who needs to tell the girls of this school how much they have and have not grown is Madame Pomfrey."
She felt relief whelm in her throat and her eyes were growing moist at the familiar, harsh tone.
"10 points from Gryfinndor. Head back to your dormitory; you are not a member of this club."
"But-"
"There will be more taken for each second you waste, Weasley. Now, GO."
"I'll see you back there, 'Mione." Ron said with a shy glance before trotting back towards the Gryffindor tower.
Hermione turned in Snape's direction only to see him slump down to one knee, his robes covering him like a blanket. That announcement seemed to take all of his strength.
"I don't have much time." He stated weakly. "Get me into the Potion's Room. The dungeons are still my quarters, and it has what I will require."
She knelt readily by his side as he placed his weight on her. She struggled to aid him in standing up. She could feel something seeping through the fabric, was he sweating?
"Professor, please tell me what's going on," She tried to relay calmly as they walked, "so that I can help you properly."
He scoffed feebly, "I'm afraid you haven't read about this one in a book. It's a curse that cuts you and continues to do so in multiple locations over an allotted amount of time. My time is up."
She inhaled sharply. There was only one person she could imagine doing this and she did not want to. She couldn't examine the implications now. It was then that she realized the fluid seeping between her fingers wrapped around his waist was not sweat or water; it was his very own blood.
They arrived at the Potion's Room and Hermione was grateful that Slughorn was away. As she examined the classroom with her Professor once again inside it, she couldn't help but yearn for the innocent days when she feared the presence that she had come to love.
"I'm afraid there's no wand magic to cure this." Snape spoke, "This curse was designed specifically for me, since I know potions." He laid out several ingredients over the countertop. "Hermione, start a low fire under the cauldron."
She aided in chopping the roots and stirring the elixir until it was a deep green color and the consistency of filamentous algae. She could tell it was finished but before either of them could move forward with the process; her Professor was slumped on the castle floor, consciousness evading him. Hermione had an inkling that this was going to occur from the amount of blood loss, yet seeing it actually happen was harrowing. She took a second to breathe and think before using her wand to float him into his chambers.
"Lumos." She stated, in an attempt to better view her patient. She knew that she could not take him to the infirmary, or he would have gone there first. It was in her hands to finish the job he started. Yet, what should she do with the potion? Was it meant for drink or application? Think, think! She flipped the pages in her mind to the chapter on how to tell what potions are used for. The thicker ones are typically for application, and this one was certainly thick. That would mean…
She now knew why his color of choice was black, it hid the stains well. One could not tell that it was blood that was making his robes appear wet. There was no time to baulk as she peeled back the layer of clothing to reveal the liquid scarlet smeared across a body of marble. This was no ordinary man's body; this was the torso of her long term teacher. It was a man that she had grown to fear, respect and something more. She observed how his muscles stood in definition against his slim frame. Thin black hairs covered his body, sparse on his chest but thicker in areas that she did not divulge herself in inspecting. She felt almost as if she were examining a cadaver for evidence. This body was corrupted by dark magic, draining more than blood.
Her instincts took over as she took the treatment of her Professor to be something like an assignment. Perhaps he would grade her on his recovery. As she continued to smooth on the elixir, grumbles of gratification and tenderness could be heard from the back of Snape's throat. She recoiled as she approached his left forearm. There, amidst the complexion of white and mending red was the contrasting mark that held the answers. Her flat palm turned into a fist, it was ugliness in its purest form. "Why?" She asked the unconscious body, her eyes stinging. What could cause such a knowledgeable man to make such a foolish decision? Should she continue to help someone that may very well be her enemy? Should she let him know what she had seen? She swallowed back the tears as the thoughts flooded her mind. As she had stated before, he was not unwise, but should that be enough to trust him?