The Human Cure Chapter 6: Live Flesh, a harry potter fanfic

The Human Cure

Chapter 6: Live Flesh

Hey everyone! Thanks so much for taking the time to read this story. It's getting a lot of hits that I do appreciate it. I hate to nag, but I would love to hear what you all think of the story.

A scene in this chapter was greatly inspired by the infamous dancing scene in Deathly Hallows Part 1. I have my own variation of it for this story, and I hope you all enjoy.

Hermione Granger, clutching a timer, stared in wonder as the blood in the small Erlenmeyer flask curdled in the sun and the glass exploded; she sighed in frustration and uttered a curse or two that Severus Snape wasn't familiar with. (He assumed she picked up such words in America.)

"There goes another sample." She said with a slight tinge of anger as she removed her safety goggles and tossed them aside. "That's the third one this week!"

"We've got more to work with. I am, after all, an endless supply." Severus replied, not wanting her statement to go by without a response.

"Well, if it's any consolation, it took approximately thirty-nine seconds before it started to bubble. That's the longest it has held so far. Then again, the sun will start to go down soon, so that should also be taken into consideration. Would you suggest adding in more lyre-flower?"

"How much did you add in already?" Severus responded, not too bothered by her question.

"About two grams. Maybe I can up it to four?"

Running her hands through her hair, Hermione didn't know what would be the next course of action. Severus noted that it was fairly common for her also to gather her hair into her hands and wrap it around her fingers when she was frustrated, as if an action would provide her with some sort of clue. It was something only he noticed and found a bit endearing, but he would never admit such a thing to her. She never was one to truly realize just how powerful her beauty was. If she could distract him, then she could distract anyone. He now understood how Glen fell under her spell. He was shaken back to reality by the sound of her neck cracking.

For close to four months now they had tirelessly worked to find how the blood of a vampire was chemically different from that of a mere human. Isolating and changing the properties of such differences were giving her less and less hope. They tried working with different blood types to no avail, just as they tried cockamamie ideas just to see if something would happen. Even with all of her work in stem cell research, nothing promising really was happening.

"I hate this feeling!" She stated, throwing her pen on the desk in a fit of frustration. (Severus always made sure to not sit next to her when she was researching given her habit of throwing her writing utensils.)

"Who would have thought that Miss Granger would have to taste the bitter agony of not knowing something once in her life."

"I hate not understanding. I hate not knowing the next step or clue. It's so bloody frustrating."

"Another pun intended?" Severus replied, obvious humor on his tongue.

"What's it with you and puns?" She said as she stood up and grabbed a black blazer.

As she put it on she asked if he was up for a stroll around the neighborhood. It had become somewhat customary for them to walk around the neighborhood when their own odd variation of cabin fever had started to get the better of them. Hermione usually was the one to initiate it, but Severus never turned her down.

Severus glanced outside of the window, wondering if his sunglasses would be needed. Pocketing them, just in case, he threw a jumper on over his button down shirt. Sometimes he looked as if he stepped out of a J. Crew catalog.

Never one to wear jeans, Hermione admired his wardrobe choices. She almost forgot that he even bothered with clothes considering that for most of her life she would see him with his robes on. Finding it weird to admit that his robes didn't do him justice, she quickly brushed that thought aside as she slipped on her boots.

"Oh how I wish, professor, I would have witnessed your humor and obvious infatuation with puns when we were at Hogwart's." Hermione said, as she made sure her boots were zipped up properly.

"I doubt you would have learned half as much if I were someone your fellow pupils would see as agreeable. Besides, I never could explore the humor of things until after I left Hogwart's." Severus replied, holding the door for her. Hermione found it rather endearing that a man she would have labeled as nothing more than a brute years ago, was so gentlemanly.

As they made there way outside, the conversation continued.

"Do you sometimes want to go back?"

Looking at the sidewalk ahead of them, he gave her questions some serious thought before answering.

"I miss certain things."

"That's it?"

"Well, what did you expect me to say? The meddling staff, those idiotic dunderheads, quidditch, Neville Longbottom! I surely didn't become enraptured with the cuisine."

"What do you miss?"

"I miss my bed."

"Are you serious?" Hermione asked.

"I miss my bed, and the warm bodies that shared it with me."

Hermione knew he said that to make her blush, or at least shut her up.

"You had…donors at Hogwart's?" She asked, shock in her voice. If she wouldn't have been paying attention to where she was walking, Severus was sure she would of tripped.

"Of course not Hermione! I could easily find a willing body down Knockturn Alley, and that was only when I desperately needed something that did not come out of a bloody bag. You actually believe that I fed from the student population?"

"NO! It's ridiculous, but you were a spy, I wouldn't hold it past you. Besides, some people are into that sort of stuff, you know vampire stuff." Her voice lowered for the last few words.

Hermione tried not to voice her interest, but Severus easily picked up on it and he didn't need to see the slight flush of her skin or hear the slight quickening of her pulse to know it.

"It's comforting to know you think so highly of me." He said as he looked at her, a smirk on his face. "I do miss some things, but I suppose they are all abstract in nature. I miss the security and safety of knowing that I always had a home, a place to go to. I knew not to expect acceptance from everyone, but I only needed it from those who truly understood me. I didn't realize just how important those things were until it all went to hell."

Seeing her former professor have such a somber tone with his words, she felt him open the door to reveal more about her own feelings. The blaring of the car horns distracted her every now and again, but she knew now was as good of a time than ever to confess her thoughts.

"You know, with the war I was prepared for the death of my friends. We weren't stupid - we knew that there was a good chance that many of us wouldn't survive. But with my parents it was different. I honestly thought that they would be safe. I sometimes wonder how their last moments were. I wonder if they were killed before the fire was set, or did Voldemort keep them alive only to watch them be tortured. I still don't understand why he was the one to do it. Couldn't he have sent out Malfoy or some other high-ranking follower of his? I suppose I can't get over their death because I wasn't prepared for it. The only peace that I take is the fact that their murderer is dead. The one guilty of that crime is no longer here, and that knowledge has somehow given me some will to live."

Severus remained silent at her confession. He knew more truth to the story of the death of her parents, but he didn't dare confess it. Better to let her believe what she was always told. He, again, remembered her reaction to the news. Years ago it made him feel guilt, and it still did. Yes, let her believe the lie. It would be better for the both of them. Still, in the back of his mind he couldn't help but tell himself. If only you knew Hermione. If only you knew.

The rest of their walk was in silence.

XXXX

As more days turned into weeks, Hermione still felt the presence of Severus every morning when she tended to her morning jog. Even if the weather was dreary, she still ran. Severus knew that her running was a metaphor for something else, and while he was confident that she knew it, he never grew bored of observing her focus that went into each deliberate step on the pavement of the London streets. He could hear her exhale each breath out of her mouth just as he could feel the sway of her ponytail swinging back and forth.

Sometimes he would glamour himself, and while he knew that she didn't notice every one, there were days where she would look at him, knowing that it was indeed her colleague. Still, no one dared to break the delicate chain of the dance they had somehow started with one another. They were colleagues that had somehow become friends, and both were perfectly content with it remaining an unspoken acknowledgement.

It had gotten to the point where Severus would sometimes sleep on the purple couch in the lab of her flat when he was too tired to go home. Sometimes he would work past the closing time of the tube and rather than hail a cab home or walk with all of its various temptations, he crashed on the plush velvet couch. He always made sure to be out of the flat before Hermione woke up, but sometimes that didn't always happen.

There were occasional odd moments where she would walk into the lab to grab her notes and see Severus sprawled out on her couch. He was so silent in his slumber, the rise and fall of his chest never occurring. One morning she found herself staring at him, thinking that at any moment she would see any sort of indicator that he did take in oxygen. She found it somewhat endearing that he would choose to crash on her couch. Even if he wouldn't admit it, she saw it as an indication of the trust between the two of them. Smiling as she walked back into her kitchen, she knew that he would come up with some sort of excuse to play it off.

Days later gray clouds hung over the city of London. Severus, taking a break from the lab, was in the kitchen reading the local paper. He didn't care if the Internet covered every thing and more than what was necessary; he remained old fashioned in that way. He took comfort with the old routine. Hearing Hermione talking to herself, reminding herself of what she had to bring with her to her advisory meeting. Her panic arose a bit in that she was at least ten minutes late, and she was always punctual.

"Have you seen a yellow folder anywhere?" Hermione asked as she walked into the kitchen. She was wearing a pair of jeans that did nothing but flatter her figure and a basic gray tank top. He could see the curve of the muscles in her arms, the way her collarbone stood out proudly, and the navy blue bra strap that slipped out from under the skinny sleeve. It took him a few seconds to respond.

"It may be in your living room."

Hermione looked at him oddly, wondering why he seemed to be looking at her the way he was, but she was too tardy to give it more thought. Rather than ask what was up with him or respond, she turned around and walked into the suggested room.

"What's so important about that folder?"

"It's got my paperwork concerning my taking the academic year off." Before she could continue to explain what was in it, he heard a loud, "GOT IT!" as she slipped on her flats and grabbed her black blazer.

"I'm going to grab lunch with Carla today after the meeting."

"And why do you think I care?" Severus responded, not bothering to look up from the international section of the paper.

"Because it's not like you spend more time over here than you do your own flat." Hermione sharply replied, humor in her tone. "I know you're not daft enough to miss the fact that the blanket is on that couch for a reason."

"You should bring an umbrella; it's going to rain today." Severus spoke.

"I'll see you later. Shite! I am so bloody late." Hermione stated as she grabbed her handbag, satchel containing all of her school related paperwork and rushed out the door.

Severus looked at the door after it shut and noticed that she forgot to grab her umbrella.

Hours later, the rain and thunder pounding, Severus heard her key unlock the door. Walking into the flat soaked, he watched her slowly walk towards her bedroom. Even if he didn't intend to give her an I told you so look, it was clear that was what she interpreted. In response, the look on her face read, don't even say it. A trail of water was left with every step that she took towards her bedroom.

After a few minutes, Severus, paying no mind and seeing her open bedroom door as an open invitation began talking,

"I was thinking that maybe we haven't given enough attention to plasma, so maybe we cou…"

Severus stopped mid-word when he saw Hermione struggle to get her right leg out of her soaking wet jeans. She had removed the tank top and blazer, but the jeans that fit her so well now fit her too well. He could see her backbone and the scars that he assumed came from the war, and he didn't know how long it was before she finally noticed him staring at her – now stripped down to nothing but her navy blue bra and matching knickers.

The two stared at each other for what seemed like a minute before Hermione broke the spell and pushed the door to close. Never giving him the chance to apologize, she felt bad for her sudden action, but it was the only thing she thought to do in that moment. She didn't have to look in the mirror to know that she was blushing, but what fascinated her more was not the fact that her former professor saw her practically naked, but she knew desire when she saw it, and it seemed to have possessed him.

It would take her another thirty minutes to meet him in the lab.

While waiting for her, Severus tried to map out his idea about the plasma, but he couldn't get the image of her out of his head. Trying to write his ideas down, he noticed that the hand holding the pen was slightly shaking. He knew from that moment he was screwed.

Hermione Granger, the former thorn in his paw, now colleague and "friend" was probably one of the most divine creatures he had ever laid his eyes on. Bloodlust coursed through his veins as he flashback to the images of her drenched hair as it cascaded her shoulders, her knickers with the lace on top, the soft rise and fall of her breasts every time she inhaled and exhaled. He didn't know whether to be shocked at her wardrobe choices or proud of her. Seconds later he would berate himself for even thinking such thoughts about her like that. Still, his blood boiled and for the first time in a long time he knew he would kill to know if her blood was as enigmatic as its possessor.

When she finally walked into the lab, Severus had already quelled his thoughts. He thought about going back to his flat, but that would have only made him seem like he wasn't mature enough to handle the consequences of their little incident.

Hermione sat across from him at the table, dressed in another pair of jeans, a jumper, and her damp hair was pulled back into a bun. She looked rather awkward, but chose not to bring up what happened moments earlier.

"You mentioned plasma?" She asked.

And that was that. It was her way of telling him that he had nothing to worry about in regards to almost seeing her naked. As he explained his theory, she listened, took notes, and offered up some tips in regards to what could be done. Severus knew that one day they just may well look back on that incident and have a good laugh on it.

Still, as he lay in bed that night he imagined what it would be like to touch her. He didn't notice his hands softly skimming over his own skin, somehow imagining it was hers. He touched his collarbone, and knew that it would never compare to hers. A part of him just wanted to wank off and hope that his frustrations would be gone, but he knew it wouldn't help. As he looked out of his bedroom window, he knew it would be so easy to find someone… a thief, a rapist, just an all around bad person. It was easy to blame her for making him want to feed off of "live flesh" as he used to call it. Glen was the last one, and his blood wasn't even that good.

Then again he could always go to her flat for a visit. He had a key, and she wouldn't even notice if he were to watch her. He had watched her sleep a few times even. Better yet, maybe…maybe he could have a little taste. If she were to wake up, it wouldn't be hard to make her think that she was dreaming. The small mark on her breast from where he would draw just a little bit of blood could easily be explained away as a scratch.

Yes, it would be so easy to go to her, and as he pictured walking into her room, observing her sleep, and hearing a soft moan escape her lips as he fed from her his hand began to stroke up and down his cock. Not one to fantasize often, he gave into the temptation that forced him to realize that he wanted Hermione Granger. He had to kill his lust in that very moment, or kill someone to sate his appetite for her.

As he continued to pick up the pace to a vicious stroke, he imagined tracing his tongue over every inch of her skin. He saw the haze in her eyes as she whispered for more, all the while exposing every part of her self to him. The sick and demented part of him wanted to bathe her in blood and lick it off of her skin. It was something he did many times with Judith, and he didn't think anything of it back in the day. Now, for the first time in centuries, he wanted to experience that macabre and grotesque ritual again.

He thought of the times he could smell her menses, and he tried to avoid staying in a room with her for too long when it was that time of the month. Blame the fact that being a vampire made him more sensitive so such things, but he had done a good job playing it off as if it didn't have any sort of affect on him. Now it presented a challenge for him. Feeling like he would explode at any minute, he added more fuel to his fantasy and imagined licking away each drop of her blood, mixed with the wetness of her desire as it pooled from her center.

When he finally came, his growl of release was so welcomed, yet it terrified him all the same. His fangs exposed, his dead seed all over his hand, he didn't bother to clean himself up. He wanted it to make him feel dirty, guilty even, for having all of those thoughts about Hermione, but the guilt never came.

Severus didn't show up at Hermione's flat the next day, claiming he needed a day that didn't require thinking too much. She didn't seem bothered by it, not in the slightest bit.

Things went back to business as usual the day after. Their only real conversations were about new variations of their work. He only spoke when he needed to, and while Hermione was used to it, after a few days it began to concern her.

"Are you alright?" Hermione finally asked one evening.

"What makes you think there is a problem?"

"It's just that you've been rather…well, weird lately."

"I think we've been working too many hours."

"Well, do you want go out for a walk or something?"

"No, I'd rather stay in."

It was the first time he turned down her offer, and that was all the proof Hermione needed to know that something was up.

"Are you really that worried?"

Thinking that she was talking about what happened the other day, he looked at her and tried to think of something to say that wouldn't give away the fact that he jerked himself just about every night ever since their little incident occurred.

"Whatever do I have to be worried about?"

"You know, us not being able to make the vampirism better."

He tried not to let his relief show when she mentioned what her true concern was.

"I'm confident we'll find something, and even if your time runs out and you have to go back to university doesn't mean we will have to stop. I'd like to believe that you would continue to help in any way you can."

"Of course I will!" Hermione said, reassurance in her smile.

Severus wanted to believe that if she would have been close to him she would grace him with the touch of her hand. Whether a pat on his shoulder, a hand over his hand, or a gentle cupping of his cheek, she would have given him more.

"Silly man." He heard her utter as she turned on the radio to some classic rock station and got back to her work.

After another hour or so of silence, with the exception of the music, Severus looked at the clock and noticed that it was close to midnight. Grabbing a bag of A positive out of Hermione's fridge and warming it up in a mug, he walked back into the lab to see her staring off into space. She lightly tapped her fingers on the table to the song on the radio; it obviously meant something to her.

The world is turning, I hope it don't turn away,

The world is turning, I hope it don't turn away.

All my pictures are falling from the wall where I placed them yesterday.

The world is turning, I hope it don't turn away.

Noticing that Severus was back in the room, curiously watching her, she did something that struck him as odd, even by her own standards. Standing up and walking towards him, she grabbed his mug and looked at the crimson liquid in it. She brought it close to her nose, trying to pick up the scent. Genuinely curious about it, Severus didn't know what was going on with her.

I need a crowd of people, but I can't face them day-to-day.

"May I ask of you a favor?" She asked, troubling thoughts brewing behind her eyes.

"Whatever you need." He softly replied.

For a second he thought she would ask to try the liquid in his mug, but that assumption was forgotten when she placed the mug on a worktable.

"Dance with me." Hermione replied.

Though my problems are meaningless, that don't make them go away.

I need a crowd of people, but I can't face them day to day.

Shocked by her request, he didn't answer her but rather let her take over. She placed her right hand on his shoulder and grabbed his hand with her left one and before he realized what was happening his movements were in sync with hers. The only other time he ever saw her dance was at the Yule Ball; she was a girl back then, but now, now she was a woman who seemed to have brushed off that boy as a silly crush. He hadn't danced in years, but he had done enough of it throughout the years to know that it was more than just steps and movement. It could be a silent seduction, and as they looked each other in the eyes, the tension from the other day somehow didn't return, but was replaced with something neither one could truly read. It was if they were seeing each other for the very first time.

He wanted to read her thoughts just as he desperately wanted to know what made her ask such a favor from him, but he knew that it wouldn't be fair to her. Severus knew he made the right decision when Hermione placed her head on his shoulder as they continued to move.

"I just realized something because of this song."

"What?" Severus whispered back.

"Today is the anniversary of parents death. I can't believe I didn't realize it until now when we're only thirty or so minutes to it being another day."

He then understood everything. Still holding her in a tight, but comforting stance, he continued to let her talk.

"They were huge Neil Young fans. A few years ago I saved up money to purchase them tickets to see him at the Hammersmith Apollo; it was a gift for their wedding anniversary. This was one of my mum's favorite songs."

He could feel her tears on his shirt, but let her remain in control of everything. Trying to remain calm, he felt her grip his cold hand even tighter. He noticed her try to inhale his scent, almost burrowing in his embrace. She found a security in him that she needed, and he realized just how much he missed the warmth of another human body.

I went to the radio interview, but I ended up alone at the microphone.

Now I'm livin' out here on the beach, but those seagulls are still out of reach.

I went to the radio interview, but I ended up alone at the microphone.

There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but he chose to focus on her scent. Her perfume, so subtle, yet so overpowering drew his attention away from whatever it was he wanted to say. He knew that things between the two of them were slowly changing, but he wasn't stupid enough to delude himself into believing that she would want to be with him. It wasn't practical. It wasn't smart. It wasn't right. She deserved someone more like her…someone who would age and who could give her children.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" She mumbled into his shoulder.

"I never really did thank you for doing all of this. I'm not one to say such words very often, but I am grateful."

Get out of town - think I'll get out of town.

I head for the sticks with my bus and friends.

I follow the road though I don't know where it ends.

Get out of town, get out of town - think I'll get out of town.

'Cause the world is turning, I don't want to see it turn away.

"Your welcome." She replied as they continued to dance.