Wandering

Charecters belong to JKR.

I must beg forgiveness for chapter 8 'memories'. The proofing was unbelievably poor and testiment to my haste. It has, as well as chapter 9, been repaired somewhat and I hope you find it more understandable if you care to reread it. Thank you.

Severus shifted irritably beside Hermione, his fever was rising again damn the blasted thing. He flipped on his back and listened to the sea. It was somewhere between the melodic waves and Hermione’s steady breathing that sleep claimed him.

'Severus, come forward.’

It was to be his final night, he answered the summons as a call to his death, Lucius…damn Lucius…had discovered him. He broke the ranks of the circle and took even, measured strides toward the Dark Lord with his head up and his shoulders squared. His life was obviously forfeit but his dignity would never be offered up to them. He was within a foot of the Dark Lord when he heard the curse leave his lips with venom normally reserved for Muggles and Harry Potter.

'Crucio.’

Severus gnashed his teeth together and fell to the earth. Searing red pain fired through his mind with a grip so fierce he could no longer draw breath. Muscles locked and twisted against the ligaments, bones seemingly snapped and rubbed together at the raw ends, his gut clenched and twisted and knotted to stone and his back arched, driving his face hard into the earth.

The Dark Lord was saying something to his minions, most likely speaking of his treachery, his passing of information all these years. It was his own error that brought him to his knees, age and years of watching his steps so closely finally failed him. He foolishly decided to take a leaf from Albus’s book and deposit memories that were becoming too difficult to hide in a pensive. Three weeks later he walked into his chambers to find Lucius sitting at his desk- the sneer on his face made Severus’s blood run cold.

The curse ended; he lay on his face a moment to draw breath before shakily pushing himself up. He rose defiantly before Voldemort, damn his body for trembling, and awaited his deathblow.

‘Severus, you were one of my most loyal. My spy in the inner circle of Dumbledore himself, my servant who disposed of that annoyance when then time finally came. Why, my dear Severus, did you betray me to them when they hate you? You turn your family to those that would kill you on site, who deem you a liar and a threat…’

Severus stiffened as the Dark Lord reached forward and gently caressed his cheek, Voldemort's face relaxed to a softness Severus did not think possible. ‘Wayward son,’ the silibent hiss sent chills down his spine. Something flashed in the catlike eyes before him and the same hand that lovingly stroked his cheek reared back and struck him to the earth.

Severus pushed himself off the ground and spat the welling blood from his mouth.

‘Beg me Severus; plead for your life so that you may live.’

Severus remained silent. Voldemort reeled in anger and again he found himself twisting on the ground in the throws of the curse. Despite his agony, he felt his body rise into the air so that his feet dangled precariously above the ground. The pain stopped.

‘If you will not beg for your life, then I shall make you scream for your death. LUCIUS!’

Fabric whispered over the ground and Severus could tell the blond man was beside him, kneeling before his lord.

‘Being the faithful one to bring my wayward son to me, I shall reward you with him. Do as you like but he is not to die until he cries like a woman for it.’

His body fell to the earth in a crumpled heap.

“Severus, shhhh, wake up.” Hermione gently stroked his damp hair away from his forehead as she called to him. His fever had risen in the night and he lay damp and twitching on the bed beside her, his face pulled to a grimace; she knew another nightmare plagued him.

His eyes snapped open and he jumped, sitting bolt upright in bed. The bright morning sun flooded over his bare torso, reveling his scars and bruises. She flinched before resting a soft hand on his back. He lowered his forehead into his hand, leaning forward and taking long, calming breaths. Hermione said nothing as she gently brushed his hair behind his ear. She leaned into him and carefully kissed his shoulder, pulling him from himself. He met her eyes and his chest unclenched; his hand found her cheek and he ran the back of his finger softly along it before lying back into his bed.

She smiled at his touch and leaned over the bed, extracting his medicine from her discarded robe.

“Here, drink this.”

He took the potion from her and drained what was left. Surely this fever could not linger for long. The same thought passed through Hermione’s mind as she took the vial back from him and he closed his eyes. Good, she thought, he needs to sleep.

She kissed his forehead before sliding out of the sheets and dressing. There was a small stove and a cabinet full of food, she padded over to it and found some bread and jam. Flicking her wand carefully, the bread toasted and the jam spread itself appropriately. She saved a slice for herself but carried the plate and a small cup of juice to his bedside.

“Here is breakfast if you can manage it.” He nodded but remained still, eyes shut tight against the bright sun. Hermione looked at the window and frowned, she produced her wand and covered it effectively, taking the glare off the bed and giving him a suitable place to rest.

Hermione padded back to the stove and retrieved her toast, munching it as she walked the small parameter of the bungalow. She stopped in front of the uncovered window facing the woods. They looked remarkably like the forbidden forest. She stared at the wood line for a while before plodding on. The bookcase called to her and she studied the volumes.

She pulled one from the shelf and sighed, quite looking forward to the weight of a book in her lap as she curled into one of the generous chairs. Severus pulled his arm from his face as the medicine worked in his veins. His stomach grumbled for the toast at his side and he propped up on his elbows. Miss Gra— Hermione, looked exquisite with the bright morning light illuminating fine wisps of her hair. She was immersed in a volume and he almost smiled, she earned a morning with a book.

He ate what he could from his breakfast and slid from the bed, tactfully keeping himself covered with the sheet. Hermione glanced over her book as the sounds of his movement caught her attention, but seeing his exposed back and left buttocks, she grinned and pushed her nose back into the volume.

“You need to stay in that bed Professor or that fever will have you.”

He frowned and shook his head as he dressed. He bent to pull his trousers on and hissed in pain upon righting himself, placing his palm over his heart. It pounded heavily against his chest and he closed his eyes, stumbling back from the unexpected pain. Hermione’s book fell to the floor in her haste and she wrapped a firm hand around his arm, steadying him. When it passed, she shook her head and urged him to sit.

“There was a hole in the lining of your heart. I closed it but these things need time to rest. I don’t know how much that heart can take at the moment, I am sorry. Unfortunately a good bit of the healing world comes from seeing, not reading.”

Severus sat on the edge of the bed in silence, slowly his fingers curled into fists beside him. Anger and frustration with his wretched body boiled in his chest and Hermione jumped as he yelled and struck the wall.

She froze after instinctively creating distance between them, totally at a loss as to how she should react. Of course, he will be tired of illness by now. Carefully she approached him, as one of his hands pressed against the wall, and the other combed through the hair of his hanging head, the elbow of said hand now also resting against the wall. His breathing was fast and shallow; she slowly lowered herself beside him. His back faced her and his legs hung heavily over the bedside.

He startled when her hand gently rested against his back. Brave woman she must be to risk her hand now, brave or quite daft. “Do not patronize me Miss Granger I’ll not have your pity!” he spat vehemently. She did not retreat, however, and instead began moving that gentle hand in small circles. His muscles stiffened under her touch.

“I SAID I DO NOT NEED, NOR DO I WANT YOUR PITTY GRANG—” his heart rolled painfully in his chest and he growled, returning the heel of his hand over it and collapsing forward so that is forehead now propped the rest of his body against the wall.

She scooted closer to him, carefully sliding her arms around his chest until her hands covered his over his heart. He could hear her speaking though he could not make out the words. For Merlin’s sake if she must speak, why can it not be clearly? The pain in his heart slowly began to dissipate and her words sounded clearer now.

“Quietis poena, fulcio pectus pectoris,” Her voice was a whisper and the words repeated, he suddenly knew what she was doing and was amazed that she lacked a wand to do so. He pulled his head away from the wall and drew her hands away from him, slowly turning to look at her.

She watched him with bated breath, ready for the anger that may well come. His face was a mask and his eyes flicked over her, dark and guarded.

“Where did you learn that?”

She almost blushed at his subtle compliment, at least, that was how she was going to take it, and answered, “In a book.”

A/N
I know, shorter chapter, no action…WAKE UP! I promise better things to come. Thank you all so much for your outpouring of reviews and comments and I am thrilled to see the last chapter went over so well. Alright, so that’s it tonight. Sorry for the pause between.