darkisrising (everyone tip your hats off to connieewing for prodding this chapter out of me. And to jackie who will physically harm me for anymore tardiness; and no, I do NOT think about Shelton when I write HG/RL scenes… I swear… Her-me-own…)

lovely, dark and deep

seized

Darkness encompassed her, wrapping around her movements like a protective shield. Behind her a man followed in her shadowed footsteps. Her breathing lightly condensed unevenly in front of her. The protective charms and curses surrounding the area had proved harder to break than expected. The effort of getting through had winded her. Twigs snapped noisily under her feet, causing the man to give her a stern look. She reddened with embarrassment and tried to tread quieter. After several hundred feet, a clearing appeared at last. The bonfires dotting the meadow made up for the crescent moon's dimness. Weeks of spying, conniving and tracking were finally paying off as the two came upon the sound of voices.

Tonks and Rutherford halted at the tree line, out of sight of the people milling about. Her face mirrored his surprise at the sheer number of people in front of them. The black cloaks and white masks revealed their identity as the Death Eaters realigned their circle around the biggest flame. This was where they were shrinking back into. No wonder no one was left to defend the lines; there were close to ninety people packed into the space, and this was only the first group they had been able to hunt down.

In silence, they watched three people be led forward from the farther, blacker recesses of the woods. They were not crying; their eyes were blank under the Imperius curse. Clearly Muggles from their clothes. Another oddity explained; the lack of bodies left over from Voldemort strikes. Instead of killing off the victims, they were dragging them away. A strong baritone sounded out across the void, but Tonks paid it no mind as she stood spellbound by the scene before her.

Soon the captives made up an inner ring as the Death Eaters encircled them. Low voices became to chant and soon the din swelled up to nearly a roar as the large group of men and women shouted in unison. Abruptly it stopped and one voice rang clear.

"Jump!" it commanded.

All of the Muggles turned around and flung themselves into the fire. Tonks involuntarily squeaked then hastily covered her mouth. One last string of the incantation was completed before the fire burned a pure white and no trace of the Muggles could be seen. The flames crackled and popped unhindered as if nothing had ever disturbed them.

"Be free Othello Pope!" shouted the familiar voice from earlier.

The group echoed, "Be free. Be free." The two words echoed back through the standing masses like a wave receding as it became fainter and fainter with each line until it ceased altogether.

Tears shined in Tonks' eyes as they glanced at Rutherford's disgusted face while three more people were led forward.

As the Death Eater leader bellowed out the beginning, "Return, return from the ashes we call…" the veteran Order member could only mutter, "Merlin save us all."

"I highly doubt he can help you," said a cold voice behind them. "Why, he's dead and I don't think we'll be calling him back for assistance; he'd just join your side."

Each turned quickly, wands drawn. The smirk could nearly be seen through the man's blank white mask. Reacting before the other two, he quickly gave his wand a slight flick, sending the Order members staggering backwards into the clearing where black robes descended upon them immediately.

----

"WHAT IS your deal, Hermione?"

Her eyes snapped abruptly back to Ginny's face at the irritated words. She had not realized she had been staring straight at the redhead's throat and she sure did not know for how long. Hermione bit her lip in agitation at her gaze's wandering.

"Nothing, nothing at all," was her hasty reply as Hermione returned to look at the book she had been studying. Horcruxes: A Damned Immortality. She couldn't remember when she had looked up and had become entranced with the constant thump of Ginny's pulse inside her jugular. One minute she was reading about soul splitting, the next being accosted for gaping.

Heaving a sigh, Hermione snapped the ancient book shut, allowing her eyes to close briefly in kind. She was getting a headache; actually she seemed to suffer from an impossibly large number of them recently. Maybe it was another aftereffect from that Horcrux she had came upon before…before she had been permanently assigned post at the Black Manor. That damn Horcrux she had handled was the entire reason she was holed up in the place.

My idiotic descendent of a Black handled this much better than you. But I must admit it would be nice to leave this hole. Much easier to wreak havoc.

God, the voice.

Had Sirius been plagued as she seemed to be? Hermione stood as if to escape it, and her eyes slid toward Ginny's reclining figure to see if she heard anything amiss. But she continued reading the latest Witch Weekly, unaware of the smooth female voice.

I'm insane, was all she could think.

No, but you will be before I'm finished with you.

A laugh resounded in her head that was not her own. Hermione rubbed her neck in anxiety and quickly exited the room so her face wouldn't betray anything. Voices only you could hear were never, ever brought up. War did things to people. Being cooped up did things to people. She would get through this momentary lapse.

Rushing up the stairs, she ran into Remus hurrying down them. Their shoulders collided and Hermione felt as though she had been given an electric shock. Briefly she met his eyes which looked as confused as she felt then another feeling took over. Hermione was overtaken by the sensation of falling backwards, but she was not moving down the stairs. No, it was more like pitching into oneself, a wide, gaping black hole that sucked her down. Her body tensed then went rigid. A seizure wracked her frame then another in quick succession. As her mind blanked completely and she was engulfed by the fit, Hermione really did start to tumble down the stairs. Quick hands grabbed her before she met the hardwood, holding her as still as he could manage. Remus began yelling for help.

Ginny Weasley followed by her mother and another Order member ascended the landing. This sort of incident was not new to any of them. The Healers said the poor girl may never be rid of the magically-induced epilepsy that the Horcrux had cursed upon her.

"Get her to her room," ordered Molly as she helped Remus get Hermione up the stairs. "We'll have to get the medicine again. This looks like a bad one." Her motherly face softened as she clasped the violently twitching girl.

Instantly, Molly sent the other man back down to the kitchen to fetch the medicine and prepare it properly since it spoiled quickly after the last ingredient was added. Hermione continued to thrash silently on her bed. The bed sheets twisted around her. Ginny stood off to the side, wringing her hands and looking ashen. She had been on that ill-fated trip and every time she saw the aftereffects it still sickened her.

Remus maintained his hold, keeping her arms as stationary as possible. Her slack mouth began to twitch as though the ill woman found something funny and was trying to suppress it. Soon that was overtaken by a quiet, gurgling sound. The three in the room exchanged looks; she had never uttered a noise before during a bout. They drew in closer as the sounds of the other Order wizard's footsteps pounded on the stairs.

The chortling contorted into a laugh that twisted her face into a maniacal expression. As the man entered holding a steaming goblet, the raving had reached ear-splitting shrillness as the crazed sound filled the room. Both Molly and Ginny gazed on with panic as Hermione slithered and shrieked like a banshee. Remus beheld her with a curious expression as if not affected at all by the noise.

He motioned the man over to administer the draught. Hermione began to quiet and still once more; her eyes ceasing their rolling. Remus let her go and removed himself from the bed. "It seems to have stopped," he said quietly to Mrs. Weasley. As the man bent over her, her hand struck the cup, sending its contents flying all over his robes. Only the werewolf caught her lowly uttered words.

"My turn."

Hermione's eyes snapped open. With surprising speed, she shot up into a sitting position, surveying the stunned occupants. Before any could react, she bounded agilely from the sheets. Teeth beared in a threatening smile, she soon became a blur racing toward Ginny who looked too stunned to move. Remus moved out and caught her arm, swinging Hermione back hard from her momentum. Her feverish eyes caught his causing her to show more teeth in delight. His face blanked.

"Marguerite."

Not a question, but a statement. Without another word, he released her, watching what happened next in a state of disinterest.

The entire exchange between the two had happened so quickly that Ginny was still unprepared as Hermione slammed into her body. No wand could be drawn fast enough as the normally calm and collected brunette sunk her teeth brutally into the redhead's neck. The howl of pain that emitted from Ginny was followed by a ragged hex, sending the other woman spiraling across the room.

Hermione lay in a subdued, unconscious heap on the wooden floor. Her crimson-stained mouth contrasted sharply with her pale skin. Mrs. Weasley rushed to her daughter who was scrambling to get up and keep a hand over her gushing wound. Remus, having snapped out of his temporary lapse, knelt next to the woman sprawled by the bed. The other man looked as though he could not decide between the two so he rushed downstairs to find something to bind Ginny's injury.

"What the bloody hell?" moaned Ginny not even caring about using swear words.

Molly, busy assessing the bite mark, turned her attention to Remus. "What has gotten into her? Is this another development from the Horcrux?" She whispered the last word as if the blacked out Hermione would still be angered by it.

"I don't know. We'll have to see when she wakes up. Maybe she'll remember something." He began to pick up Hermione and seeing Molly still there he said, "Take care of Ginny. I'll see that Hermione's alright."

No more words were needed to usher the two out as Ginny hobbled swiftly away with her mother's help. Remus easily picked up Hermione and placed her once more onto her bed. Sitting down beside her, he conjured a handkerchief to clean her up. However, he could not stop himself from tracing around her lips and watching the blood gather on his finger. Remus popped it into his mouth without a second thought. Before he knew it, he had closed his eyes in ecstasy over the taste. And that was only a drop.

He wanted more.

Breathing becoming hitched, he lowered his face to hers, brushing back her curly hair. No reaction came as his lips ever so faintly grazed hers. His hand found the back of her neck and brought her closer. He found the bottom lip very satisfying and not just because it was thickly coated in blood. His tongue greedily flicked quickly across its expanse, ensuring not a speck was left behind. Remus advanced down her abnormally chilled jaw, and found himself nuzzling into her neck, reveling in the loud sound of her heart.

As he continued to hold on to her, Hermione groaned softly and stirred. Remus blinked rapidly and raised himself off her. Seeing what he was doing, he released his entwining arms as if on fire, letting her fall back onto the pillow. He continued to blink as if emerging from sleep and could not help but look at his arms in dazed bewilderment. Her arm shifted upward across his knee; her hand lifting toward her head. Remembering suddenly why he was even there, he took up the small white square of cloth, making quick work of the remaining blood. Rising, he used his wand as a lighter, igniting the kerchief's edge. He watched it burst into flame and tossed the soon incinerated temptation into the metal trash bin. Turning away, he rubbed over his own mouth to remove any unwanted remnants of his crazed actions.

Hermione became more audible. He heard her rise up in bed unsteadily and felt her eyes on his back. Composing his features, he swiveled around to face her. Gingerly, she was rubbing the back of her head where she had collided with the wall and regarded him blearily. Trance-like, her index finger skimmed over her flushed, distended lips. Taking in the sheets and the worried expression that slipped through his façade, she stated numbly, "I had another fit."

"I'm afraid so." Though, he could easily confess to one of his own and of an equally scary magnitude. But he would keep that fact to himself for the time being.

Her features became ashamed and she dropped her face down into her hands. Remus hesitated. He hovered in the indecision of going to her and yet giving her space. Going with the in between, he moved closer, but did not sit. After that emotionally close moment earlier, his inability to get any nearer was almost laughable. Almost. If only he could explain the reasoning behind it, actually if only he could explain what had transpired over the past hour. Giving up on logic, he conjured up a glass of water, handing it to Hermione. She took it, swigging down the colorless liquid and grimacing at what must have been quite a taste in her mouth.

Commencing to massage her injury once more, she routinely asked, "How long? Have I been out awhile?"

"Not any longer than usual. About ten to fifteen minutes, relatively short compared to the one a few weeks ago." His mouth turned down at the thought. Quite nasty, she had really fallen down the stairs that go around.

"And what the bloody hell did I fall on this time?"

Choosing silence for the moment, Remus tentatively examined the back of her skull with his fingertips, finding a large lump amongst her thick hair. A quick wand wave found it slightly smaller and had eased enough of the pain to lift the painfully tense posture from Hermione's form. As if that mattered, she was of course still awaiting an answer.

Testing the waters, he asked, "Hermione, how much do you remember of the incident?" His hand rested briefly on her curls. "About the bump on your head?"

She screwed up her eyes, furrowing her brow in concentration. Her entire body was throbbing and the horrid metallic taste in her mouth lingered. It was hard enough attempting to remember without all the painful distractions. The first flicker was back to the stairs and the familiar feeling of losing control. Except this time instead of falling into the darkness and then slowly coming back later, she had been thrust under and then repeatedly pushed down, comparable to someone trying to drown her. Drown her in her own unconsciousness. A faint chuckle resounded in her memory. Her eyes opened uneasily at the implications that brought.

"I was on the stairs again. But," she massaged her temples, "I didn't fall down them this time. You got to me, didn't you? Yes, yes you did." She shook her head affirmably, feeling the arms that held her still. "After that it becomes so fuzzy. I'm not really sure; I'm sorry. Remus, you know what it's like to have your mind, your control taken from you. Everything just," she waved her hands in an attempt to find the word, "fades away."

"Yes, I understand," answered Remus quietly, taking a seat on the edge of the tussled bed. She slumped against the headboard in forlorn resignation of the blackout. "But sometimes it does come back, it clicks into place. I have found myself recalling a few nights I thought long lost, very few of them pleasant. Now, does this room bring back anything, anything at all?"

"Remus," began Hermione exasperated, yet consented to try again after he persisted in giving an earnest look. Her eyes flitted about the four walls as if they would give some hint as to what kind of answer he was after, coming back to his face. A dark red stain was smudged along his jaw. From the looks of it, she would say it was blood. The coppery tang on her tongue persisted. She knew the taste then. Her hand flew to her mouth in astonishment and disgust. The laughter came again, no mere memory this time; it was ringing in her head. Me, me, ME! ME! Another twitter. It's been so long since I've had a taste and you were indisposed at the time, so I just took a little bite.

"What have I done?" He did not respond. "Remus? Remus! What did I do!?" She sat up closer to him, demanding an answer.

He cleared his throat before dignifying her query. "You attacked Ginny." Remus scanned her expression for a recollection, but seeing the confusion and fear, he continued, "Hermione, you bit her on the neck. Your head injury is a result of the hex she used to get you off; you were thrown into the wall." He pointed to indicate exactly where each event had transpired.

Breathlessly, she asked, "Is Ginny alright? I mean, it's not bad. I haven't done anything severe…"

"No, she walked out under her own power and the lesion is quite repairable. She'll recover just fine. You're the one we are most worried about. We fear this could be a new development concerning the Horcrux; its exact nature is still a mystery to us."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief at the news she had not killed Ginny as she had initially feared. This feeling evaporated as she zoned in on the splotch of crimson trespassing on Remus' jaw line. Everything around her began to get hazy once more as the only distinct item remained the blood. Lightly, her fingers touched her lips once more before dazedly touching the drying, congealed spot of liquid. Transfixed by her actions, Remus did not budge under the contact, not wanting to be the one to break the spell she had fallen under. Drawing a line with the tips of her fingers, she came to rest at the edge of his mouth, connecting the two as if she knew all along what he had done. Later, Hermione could not explain why she pulled even closer to him, eyes fluttered closed and hand at his cheek. Nor could Remus clarify why he was leaning in so very near her parted lips or why his arm was where it was.

Molly Weasley burst in unannounced as Hermione and Remus were mere inches apart. Each jumped away from the other; he stood in alarm at the sudden appearance. She sat up much straighter, wide-eyed and mouth in the from of an O. Neither had time to control their surprise or humiliation at being caught in such a predicament. To hedge off any embarrassing questions, he informed the older witch that Hermione was fine except for a tender bulge on the back of her head and that she had very little recollection of what had transpired. A quick goodbye wave and he lowered his head, retreating quickly out the door.

Both women eyed him as he turned the corner; each with a very different question in mind. The ginger-haired woman bustled over to the bed and handed Hermione a dreamless sleep potion. After all the excitement of the day, she could only benefit from several hours of undisturbed rest. Gulping down the viscous drink, her eyes instantly drooped. Mrs. Weasley maternally rearranged Hermione's hair out of her face as she drifted off to sleep, making sympathetic noises as she left the room and turned out the lights.

----

"Piece of scum! Slanderous Squib! Shame of my flesh!" her father screamed at her. His deep blue eyes flashed with anger and Firewhiskey. She had already been backed into the wall, cowering in the corner with no means of escape. Staggering forward, he continued his tirade, advancing on her silent figure. Had her mother still been alive her voice would have added to the mix; the two could scream in harmony. But her mother never raised her hand against her and could on occasion convince her father to do the same. Now she was gone and nothing stood between the two.

"Useless dirt. Abomination," he continued his degrading as she kept her lips firmly pursed to keep from making any noise. Crying was even worse as she looked weaker than before. He soon grew tired of shouting and of her cringing. Quickly, he downed the last drops of alcohol and sent the bottle hurtling across the room to smash less than a few inches away from her. In the firelight, his eyes gleamed murderous and his steps became more purposeful.

Before she could flit out of the corner, his large hands encircled her neck, pressing furiously around her windpipe. "Father," she gasped out desperately and clawed at the fingers cutting off her air. "Please…"

He bared his teeth as he gritted them in his effort. "You might as well be a Mudblood for all the good you are to me, Marguerite. Nothing but a freak. You are no daughter of mine. I'll end you without magic; it would dishonor any spell to use it on you."

Seeing the black edge her vision, she could only plead silently. The world was becoming darker and darker; there was no air. She did not want to die. It was too soon; she was not ready. Panic filled her first at the thought of actually dying. That crippling emotion was replaced with hate at what he kept muttering in her deadening ears and with rage at him. For making her life a living hell and now he was trying to send her there himself. Such powerful feelings bubbled and coursed through her sluggish blood.

Stop.

I hate you.

STOP!

I HATE YOU!

With a deafening crack, her father was flung across the room by an invisible force. Falling to the ground, she clutched her throat and coughed trying to gulp down precious air. Shock rushed through her at the sight of the heaped body lying vulnerable and still. No one else was in the room; nobody was there to have rescued her. Relinquishing her neck, she stared down at her hands and at her body, laced painful in a fashionable corset. She stared back at her father and recalled the amount of force that had sent him sailing through the air. The power to do such a spell wandlessly.

Carefully, she rose off the ground and staggered over to his motionless form. A satisfied smile itched at the corners of her mouth as she stood over him, now the one in command. With great difficulty, she managed to collect enough saliva to spit on his well-kept robes, and then kicked him hard in the stomach. He groaned, indicating he had not died just yet.

"And you've never been any father of mine, you vile son of a bitch."

----

REMUS HEARD Hermione struggling with sleep, despite the fact her slumber should have been devoid of dreams. He paused outside her door until the noises had stopped. At the moment, he dared not reenter the room for fear he may find himself falling back under the enchantment from earlier and then doing things he had never thought he could. Molly would be by soon to check in on Hermione so he did not feel too bad for continuing on his way toward his room for well deserved rest of his own.

Stripping off his robes, he pulled on a shirt that he often slept in before crawling into the ornate black lacquered bed. He needed to enjoy an actual mattress while he could since he was scheduled to move out tomorrow on a mission. He wouldn't see the comforts of home for at least another week or so. Turning on his side, he slid easily into the oblivion of sleep.

----

Dusk had fallen and the excitement nearly caused him to explode. He sat in the middle of a dense thicket, shockingly naked next to a pile of tidily folded robes with a wand hidden beneath them. His face was eagerly facing the east and a smile cracked at the sight of the full moon ascending from the horizon. A savage howl ripped through the silent night as his body shuddered and fell upon the grass, morphing and melting painfully into the shape of large wolf. He shook his newly sprouted coat of dark brown fur and howled once more with fervor.

Saliva dripped from his mouth as the scent of a boy whipped up on the wind. He cocked his head in the direction of the smell and then dashed off toward the fragrance. Deftly, he ran through the trees and bushes, undeterred by the restless movement of animals around him. Soon he was upon a small farming community, the huts all neatly lined up around a central muddy street. A laugh echoed from one of the backyards. His prey was running around in his peasants clothes, oblivious to what lurked a few yards away in the underbrush. When the boy's mother retreated inside for a short moment, he struck swiftly and clamped around the boy's neck, preventing a scream as he dragged the child into the darker parts of the woods.

The woman's piercing shrieks and yells did not bother him as he finished up his dinner, taking time to lick away the blood that had wetted his fur. Standing to leave, he caught another distinct odor in the air. Others. Two pairs of shining amber eyes gazed out from the nearby shrubbery. He growled a greeting as the two other werewolves approached him, looking interestingly at the mangled, red pile next to him. They barked back in kind.

If the animalistic noises could have been translated, it would have been, "Hello, Mother and Father."

"None for us, Julius? Have we taught you no manners?"