A/N: Hello! I know it's been FOREVER since my last update. I kind of lost my writer's muse over the last several months, but I found it again a few days ago, and when I came across this story today I knew it was time to continue. I hope you can forgive my extended leave-of-absence, and I hope you enjoy!
Something More
Chapter 7: The Nightmare Begins
Hermione awoke the next morning, disoriented and sweating. It was early, much earlier than she was used to. The sun had not quite risen, and the dimness only made the moment more unnerving. Her mind flashed back to the dream from which she'd just awakened. Darkness, death, and horror swirled around her in her mind's eye. It took a moment for her to realize she was shaking.
She scribbled a note to professor Snape, making sure to charm it so that it would only bother him if he were already awake. If not, it would simply return to her, and she would try again later. She rose from bed, and dressed in silence, there was no chance of her getting any more sleep, not after the night she'd just had.
She found her way into a chair in her sitting room. She was too nervous to read, but picked up a book anyway, grateful for something to do with her trembling hands. She settled in to wait for either the note or Severus.
Severus hadn't slept either, although his insomnia was a bit more intentional. He'd been up all night researching possibilities for the curse that had seemingly almost taken Granger's life. There were a million that could cause her to black out.
His mind cycled through them automatically now, the Black Death curse, the Vortex curse, all aptly named because they quite literally absorbed a person into sheer darkness until they were no longer present in reality either physically or mentally.
It was not until a note arrived, charmed similarly to the one he had sent Minerva the day before, that everything at once became perfectly clear and absolutely uncertain. In her tiny, scripted handwriting, Hermione had written only four words:
The Night Terror Curse
Severus' already dull pallor whitened. The Night Terror Curse was in a category called Black Magic. The Dark Lord himself had often steered clear of such magic because it took something from not only the victim, but often required the participant to pay something as well. Black magic was reserved for only the cruelest, most torturous form of punishment.
He found one of his many books on the subject, and began flipping. His eyes widened as the words in front of him confirmed his darkest fears.
The Night Terror Curse, outlawed almost as soon as it was conceived during the era of the Salem Witch Trials, is a slow-working death curse. It kills its victims, not by taking their lives outright, but through lack of sleep, and the accumulation of stress incurred by paranoia, insomnia, and sheer terror as its name suggests. The curse works by plaguing the victim with reoccurring nightmares involving their worst fears. As the victim gets less sleep, the body begins to shut down, and the he or she dies a slow, very painful death as the body loses its ability to function properly.
Severus scanned further, searching for the cure.
The curse must be placed on an inanimate object, and put into contact with the intended victim. The only known cures are the death of the caster, or if the caster personally reverses the Curse.
Severus cursed loudly, a long string of expletives that would have made anyone in the Hog's Head blush. Well, that explained the note, andMiss Granger's story about the darkness, it must be a fear of hers, which made sense given her time spent in the Horocrux hunt.
He raced upstairs. He'd spent more time in the Gryffindor tower in the last two days than in the last ten years. He arrived at her apartments, and forced himself to remain calm. Oddly, he felt unprepared for the news he must now deliver. Given his years as a spy, he found it darkly humorous that Lord Voldermort had concerned him less than the frailties of a single young woman.
He knocked softly. Having received her permission, he entered slowly, and without his usual commanding presence.
Hermione did her best to smile at him as she stood to greet him, but her expression both felt and looked forced, and her shaking hands betrayed her lack of calm. She had accumulated an extensive knowledge of the worst Dark Magic had to offer. She was no stranger to the Nightmare Curse or its ramifications. Somewhat relieved, Severus realized his presence was appreciated more than his expertise.
They stood in silence for a moment, both unsure what would be appropriate conversation when one of them was facing certain death and the other was completely without a way to offer any sort of comfort. Hermione tried to remain calm, she tried with every ounce of strength she possessed, but there was only so much a single human body could endure, and Hermione Anne Granger had reached her limit.
Her legs buckled, and she collapsed. Having reached the end of her endurance, and thereby her dignity, she let the tears come. Her worst nightmares had been realized, there was nothing even Severus Snape could do to her now.
Severus had seen the intent in Hermione's eyes and body language a moment before it actually happened. Years as a spy had honed an impressive set of reflexes. He reached out, and caught her in his arms a second before she hit the floor.
He held her there, only mildly surprised when she began to cry. He was uncomfortable to say the least. Emotional outpourings were not Severus Snape's element, but neither could he abandon her, this headstrong, independent, fiery young woman who had finally, amidst one of the worst possible personal attacks known to Wizard-kind, shown her first signs of being human.
He held her in his arms, and sank to the ground with her gently as she cried. He found himself rocking gently, and wondered briefly at the ludicrousness of the situation. Here he was, Severus Snape, world renowned potions master and world renowned bat, rocking a young, beautiful woman in his arms.
It struck him that though he was not without experience of the sensual nature, he had never before simply held a woman. He had contented himself with the attentions of the simplest nature, that which could be both easily acquired and easily severed.
It occurred to him in that moment that they had something in common. Neither could deny one thing any longer: they had feelings. She, for her part, was feeling scared, alone, vulnerable, and helpless. He felt oddly protective. There was a need to shield her, to help her. He would do whatever it took to save her. He had lost one friend to his own helplessness already. On his life and his honor, it would not happen again.
She stirred in his arms, startling him. She was mentally present enough to meet his eyes, but what he found there was an almost childlike need for reassurance, for security. Her innocence radiated in glowing waves. Severus found himself thinking that surely the angels of heaven must have such eyes.
The moment was almost tangible, and it confirmed Severus' feelings, he would do whatever it took to save her from whatever evil had targeted her life. Whether as penance for his past sins or for Hermione in her own right, he was yet unsure.
The peace of the moment, however tangible, was shattered in an instant when someone cleared their throat behind him. Severus turned, ready to defend himself, but sighed in relief. "If you had been anyone else…"
A/N: And so completes my new installment. I appreciate all feedback, both critical and non. I shall do my very best to fall into a routine of updating fairly often and regularly. Until next time, I hope everyone has a wonderful day -MWMS