CHAPTER FOUR

Hermione felt cushioned in from all sides, as if the very ground suspended her in a gray womb. Supporting, but never touching. She stretched languorously, not wanting to open her eyes. Sleep was still softening her senses.

A dry hand was tracing the contours of her face, whispering across her eyebrow, following the dip beside her nose, skirting around her lips to stroke the dimple underneath, and tickling back up to draw the tear crease from the corner of her eye. Poetry in the flesh.

Hermione slowly opened her eyes, and her breath hitched in her throat. Severus looked back unabashedly, cocking his head in curiosity. He knelt comfortably beside her in the gray grass and didn't pause in the exploration of her face.

"Your skin is very warm."

Hermione gulped. "How long have you been there?"

"Since you started sleeping. It's fascinating to watch, actually. No one sleeps down here."

Hermione sat up quickly, forcing him to drop his hand. He didn't look perturbed in the least, and continued to look mildly at her.

"How long have I been sleeping?"

"I couldn't say."

Hermione had grown taller since her teenage years, but she noticed she was still considerably shorter than Severus. Her head would have tucked neatly under his chin, were they embracing. Her eyes kept flitting from his chin to her lap nervously, she couldn't meet his gaze.

"Why were you touching my face?"

He seemed mildly surprised by the question, as if the answer were obvious.

"I wanted to know what your skin felt like."

Hermione's cheeks flushed as she remembered that she had had a moment quite like this one when first running into him. His eyes lit up, and his curious fingers went to the blush on her cheeks, fingertips caressing the sudden warmth, inciting more.

Hermione thought that if he was allowed his explorations, then why not she? Taking his left arm into her lap, she pushed back his robe sleeve again. The Dark Mark still wasn't there. She murmured in amazement.

"Was it ugly?"

Hermione looked up, the top of her head almost bumping against Severus' chin. Her fingers were still dimpled into his forearm, though his hands had settled themselves back on the grass.

"I—I never saw it on your arm. I can't say."

A shadow passed across his face again, the amiable indifference darkening into a slower, blacker passion. Hermione was still getting used to, but enjoying, the mild Severus. She knew, though, that to make him want to come back to the living world she would have to ignite the darker humours that made his person. Part of her was excited by the glimmer of darkness. Another part was afraid.

"It was an ugly mark. It was on me for a very long time."

Hermione thought that he looked much younger than he used to with the softening of his features, but a hint of his former face was flickering through.

"Not so long."

He looked at her, forcing her brown eyes to meet his black.

"Long enough."

A silence fell between them, until Severus drew his wand from the inner folds of his robes. The darkness passed from his face as he twirled it through the air. Gold sparks streamed from its tip.

"I was a powerful wizard," he said as if questioning her, so Hermione nodded in affirmation.

"You were a celebrated Potions master, too."

He looked lovingly at his wand, turning it over slowly in his hands. Hermione had the feeling he had done this many times previously, and would do it many times more.

"I forget what's in it."

"Dragon heartstring."

He raised an eyebrow at her, but then nodded, believing. Hermione saw her chance to make more progress with her plan. She nodded at the wand.

"That helped me find you here."

"I remember."

"It's connected to you still, even down here."

Severus nodded, unfazed. "Yes, I expect so."

Hermione's tone grew urgent, and she felt a little frustrated that he didn't acknowledge the implications of such a thing.

"Severus, the wand is from the living world. It still connects to you, down here, in the dead world."

"Yes."

"Severus, the wand could get you back up to the living world—you could bloody well be alive again."

She snapped her mouth shut, horrified. This wasn't exactly how she'd envisioned telling him, she had been hoping to have come to it slowly and with more tact. Merlin, she should have kept her mouth shut. Would he get angry? Would he listen to her again—had she just blown her only chance?

He laughed.

It was the exact opposite thing Hermione had expected. Severus' laugh was throaty and rich, melting into her ears and the gray fields surrounding them.

Did this mean he wasn't taking her seriously? A discordant vibe struck in Hermione's breast.

"Now how can that be?"

"It's not silly, I've done my research. All the ancient texts say a wizard's wand will allow him to cross boundaries he wouldn't be able to normally on his own. That means you could cross back into the living world with your wand."

Severus stowed his wand away, an amused smirk still playing around his lips.

"And why do you think the boundary the texts mention is necessarily the one between life and death?"

Hermione had no answer for that, in fact, it made her heart drop a little. Severus' fingers came up and wove through her hair, the mildness and curiosity settling firmly back into his face again. The moment had passed; she'd have to wait for another opportunity to bring the matter up.

"Severus."

"Hmm?"

She could feel the hum against her ear.

"Show me the fields. Show me this place."

Severus took her back along the river, to the world in which it was always dawn. The sky was a gradient from pastel gray to obsidian black. She couldn't tell where sky and atmosphere met.

They saw the rock Lucius and Narcissa sat on, and Hermione went up to them. Narcissa looked at Hermione but said nothing. Lucius did not open his eyes; his exhale was slow and stirred the hair on Narcissa's face.

"Do you remember me?"

Narcissa didn't break her gaze from Hermione's, but she didn't utter a word either.

Severus came over with cupped hands. He had stooped on the riverbank and collected water into his hands. He sat down beside Lucius on the rock and pressed his hands against the other man's lips. Lucius' eyes fluttered open, and he looked wearily at Severus. He drank half of the water, and then wiped an escaped droplet from his mouth with delicate fingers. Severus offered the rest to Narcissa.

It was the first time Hermione had seen the Malfoys move. Lucius sat up straighter, he did not seem to mind Severus sitting with them; and there was a passing familiarity between Severus and the Malfoys.

"Are you well?" Severus asked as Lucius rubbed the nape of his neck, easing a crick.

"Yes, as well as can be."

Lucius' eyes settled on Hermione, and she felt pinned to the spot. It was surreal to see him there, the man she had fought against for the better part of her adolescence, who had hated her for her Muggleborn existence, and whom she still couldn't fully reconcile herself to in later life. Here was the man who had committed countless evils, sitting with his wife and looking weary, as if he held the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"I remember you."

His cold, regal face held no quarter; his tone brooked no affection. Hermione felt affronted, and prickled slightly. Any sympathy that had stirred in her heart was instantly quelled.

"You should. You did terrible things to me."

He shrugged, a golden eyebrow arched in nonchalance.

"So I did."

Narcissa stirred beside him, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"I rather think my sister did most of the damage."

This piqued Hermione's curiosity. She asked without a second's pause for thought.

"Why are you here, and not Bellatrix? Why are there no Death Eaters here?"

"You mean, why are we not with the other Death Eaters?"

Lucius' breath flickered into a hiss at the end of his sentence, instantly shaming Hermione. Narcissa rested a hand on his shoulder, and he allowed himself to relax. His eyes were still narrowed and unfriendly. He gestured with his head to Severus.

"You could ask the same of him."

Narcissa clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

"Now, now Lucius … Truth be told, Hermione, we're not sure ourselves."

"I'm done talking. Go away." Lucius lay down, and rested his head on Narcissa's lap, effectively dismissing Hermione and Severus.

Severus got up from the rock and smiled wryly at Hermione. He bent down and whispered in her ear, "He's always like that. He does like the attention, although, you'll never hear him say it."

They left the Malfoys, tall, pale, and golden-haired, content in their stillness and with each other.