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____________________________________

Snape traced the mark on his thigh in resignation. Perhaps it had been a foolish hope to expect nothing to be there - but the last thing he wanted was yet another brand upon his skin. Even if Voldemort's Dark Mark had dulled since his downfall, it was still visible against his arm - a constant reminder of his subservience. Snape turned on the water, finding momentary distraction in the cold blast. He stared at the mark again, glowering. Had it been his own crest, he might have forgiven it - but it seems the crest came with 'modification'. The motto and insignia were the same, but the eagle in the center was clutching an orchid in its claws. He held his arm against his thigh, looking at his faded mark against the fresh one. What if they were not entirely dissimilar?

____

Hermione felt like her head was pounding. Usually studying and note taking was interesting, but for some reason she couldn't concentrate. Her mark kept itching - not horribly, but just enough that she was constantly aware of its presence. And to add to the wierdness, she was keenly aware of Snape's proximity. The noise from the shower was driving her nuts, even though it was barely audible. Or perhaps, it was driving her nuts because it was barely audible. "I have got to get out of here." Hermione bemoaned,
knowing that it was probably wishful thinking unless they found away to break whatever strange bond had been put on them. Perhaps it would be as simple as Snape choosing to release her or finding the right spell.

Hermione finished reading the sections on parent's rights and childrens' rights, finally getting to the part on special cases towards the end of one of the books. "On Wards and their rights..." That looked promising... Hermione smiled, but upon further reading was disappointed. The only mention made of a mark was that in some families a purposeful crest was branded or an optional mark requested - never an automatic one. However, wards were to live with their guardians. Guardians provided for the wards, and could directly influence a ward's life such as who they could marry or where they went to school if they chose. Guardian's could impose house rules, but could not endanger a ward's life. Once married, a ward was free. (Unless married to the guardian, which often happened.)

She had mixed feelings about a lot of that. If she was in some form of wardship contract with Snape, and he abused it, then he could make her life miserable. But then, he was hardly the type. If he let her continue as she pleased, then it might not be a problem at all, and they could really just ignore everything that had happened. Right? Somehow she was having a hard time convincing herself.
Hermione turned the page, and tried not to choke.

"On Blood Wards:

In the history of Wizardry there have only been a handful of documented Blood Ward cases. While it has never been forbidden, perhaps because in all instances the guardians involved have been very well known and powerful wizards, it is frowned upon in all circles of polite society. In the fifteenth century Sir Alesan Graner compiled a tome "Bond of Power" rumored to detail this practice. While little information survives, it is clear that a blood ward contract involves much more than standard guardianship. A guardian can use select commands with the force of an Imperio curse, compel his ward to apparate to his side, and impose guidelines upon the wardship depending on how the binding was formed."

"Well, that's vague!" Hermione huffed. But it did seem to be on the right track. Perhaps Snape would know how to get a hold of this 'Bond of Power' book? She looked over the paragraph again. The bit about apparation made it sound like the dark mark, but the rest didn't quite fit. Maybe they were related somehow though. The shower was still running in the other room. Hermione got up, agitated. How was she supposed to focus?

Pacing, she rubbed at her mark through her shirt, wandering closer to the shower. Just how long was he going to take? She wanted to tell him what she had found.

________

"Sweet Merlin." Snape cursed. The itching was getting worse, and the cold water wasn't helping. Neither was scrubbing furiously at the offensive spot. Stepping out of the shower, Snape dried himself and pulled on his robe. He flicked his fingers and a house elf appeared.

"Howz can Tizzy serve?"

Snape glared and it simpered. "Get the anti-itch cream from the medical stores."

"Right away sirz." It vanished and reappeared momentarily with a small jar. Snape took it roughly. "You can go."

"Thank you sirz." Tizzy popped out, for which Severus was grateful, and he got to work applying the cream to his thigh. He leaned back as the cream settled in, the cool lotion soothing the itch and taking away the tingle.

At least momentarily. A yelp from nearby cued him in that he was not alone in his predicament. Severus got up, muttering another stream of curses under his breath. The itch had come back, only now it had progressed to more of a maddening burn. He opened the shower door and stared down his nose at a surprised Hermione. "And exactly why are you nosing about?" Snape's nostril's flared. There were some disturbing sensations going about that he couldn't quite place.

"I..I found something..." She stammered."

"And you what? Were so excited you were going to walk in on me in the shower? I'm touched." Snape started to push past her in annoyance, then stopped as he noted that when his hand touched her shoulder the burning in his thigh eased up slightly. She'd swallowed a bit too. Snape examined her more closely - clutching her shirt tightly, and she was perspiring. "Having trouble?" His voice was much harder than his words.

"My mark is burning rather badly." Hermione looked down, somewhat embarrassed. At first Snape thought it was the admission that pained her, then realized that he was standing next to her with his hand on her shoulder, clad in nothing but a bathrobe. Circumstances aside, she was just a witch. He was almost amused.

"Bought by Bone, bought by blood, yet we are not complete..." Snape repeated a fragment of poetry, leaving Hermione and heading for the table with the book.

"What??" She followed after, curious, confused, and not liking the mark's increased fury in his absence.

"Here." Snape showed her the page out of the nursery rhyme book with the poem.

Bought by Bone Bought by Blood Yet we are not complete Mad by the Hour Bonds turn Sour Power Grows Replete Dare not spurn Or deeper burn But rather two crests meet

"I am not sure I like the connotations of that." Hermione said skeptically.

"It could be quite literal." Snape responded matter of factly. "Simply touching our marks together. We have already noticed that touching eases off the irritation. Of course, if you find it too akward, and would rather continue on as you are, I could always note your protestation before pinning you down. I have no wish to continue on in this manner."

"You bloody boggart, have you no consideration? We haven't even looked at that book yet! It might have another solution entirely!"

"What book?"

"Bond of Power, By Sir Alesan Graner." Hermione said smugly. "It is supposed to tell everything there is to know about Blood Wards and bondings."

"Good luck." Snape said dismissively. "There is only one copy of that book in existence, and it's impossible to get ahold of. I searched for it for years."

"Ohhhh." Hermione pouted. "Rotten luck."

"Yes." Snape advanced on her, slightly menacing. "Rotten luck."

"Don't!" She squealed unconvincingly. "I'll hex you!"

"You could try." Snape shrugged, toppling Hermione to the floor as she got off a poorly aimed hex that turned a lampshade in the corner into a frog...for a second. "Power grows replete....I expect both our magic is being dimmed by this. Do you really want to take that chance?" He looked down at her, and he very much was amused this time by the way she wouldn't even look at him. He considered the situation and his positioning, and while it might be fun to embarrass Hermione some more, he really did want to fix things. However, their marks were in awkward places. Snape moved his hands up to her blouse, tugging the top buttons apart. "Oh, stop squealing." He shook his head. "You'd think I was up to no good." He rather wished his robe covered more of him, but under the circumstances, it did allow him to remain covered while leaving his thigh exposed.

Crawling up her, which was not as entirely unpleasant as he had expected, Snape pressed his thigh to the mark just above her breasts. Highly awkward, he hoped it was not an experience he would have to repeat, especially as other parts of him were pressing against her that he would rather not. But the change was instantaneous. The burning stopped, and after a moment, he felt a surge of power run through him. Hermione gasped - it was probably safe to say that she felt the same thing.

He rolled off, wrapping his robe around him tightly. "Better?"

"Yes." She squeaked, quite flushed.

Snape rolled his eyes.

Witches.