Dark Gods In The Blood
Chapter Eleven
xmlns="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40">
A/N: None for this
chapter. Thanks for reading.
Summary: A wandering
student comes home, a broken man pays his penance, and a gruesome murder is
both more and less than it seems.spanspan>Some
paths to self-discovery have more twists and turns than others.
Rating: R, for
intermittent dark themes, violence, and language
Disclaimer: Nothing
you read here (save the plot and bits of the text itself) belongs to me.
property of JK Rowling and Warner Bros. (and someone else, probably, but not
me). All chapter headings are properly
credited to their sources.
Dark Gods in the Blood
by: Hayseed (
Chapter Eleven
It
was a distinct glimpse: the headquarters, on relief, on
towards the
and desolate
fine fellow who stuck to his work for its own sake.
Heart of Darkness
Hermione found that she
did not even need to bother with a mental excuse. After a painfully long night, she made her way purposefully to
the Apparition point nearest her hotel.
She did not hesitate as she closed her eyes and opened them to see the
nearly familiar Yorkshire countryside.
Perkins was just over the
hill.
The receptionist smiled
broadly as she stepped into the front hall.
“Let me see ...” she said. “Miss
Hermione Granger, here to see Severus Snape.
How’s that?”
“Right in one.”
“You know the drill,” she
said, sitting the familiar box on the edge of the counter and continuing to
smile as Hermione obediently emptied her pockets and took off her shoes.
She’d forgotten to put on
her thick socks and the cold from the tiles burned her toes.
shoes,” she grumbled to herself.
With a chuckle, the
receptionist gave her a look of understanding.
“I think Severus’ doctor likes controlling his patients’ atmospheres
completely. He’s a wonderful doctor,
though -- Dr. Cuthrell is one of our best.”
“How is he, then?”
Hermione asked, giving her pockets one last check. “Sn -- Severus, I mean.es">
Not Dr. Cuthrell.”
“No different than
usual,” she replied diffidently, sliding the box under der desk.
nurses. Rarely an ounce of trouble
these days. You can go on back now,
dear.”
Unhesitatingly, she
walked past the receptionist’s desk, through the narrow hallway, and up to the
door she knew would lead her to Professor Snape.
Snape.
The word felt strange in
her mind. But indeed, he was certainly
no longer Professor Snape and he lacked the fire and brimstone she’d always
associated with Snape. That left
Severus.
But it felt incorrect,
even as she twisted the cold doorknob under her fingers and crossed through the
doorway. Snape
abominably short hair inatheather affected gesture.
She wondered briefly if
he missed his former hair.
Hermione sat down, not
speaking, and began to wait.
It did not take him
long. “Why are you
“Why are you here
at his question. “If you do not want to
see anyone, simply don’t come in the room.”
Snape sighed and placed
both his hands on the tabletop, palms facing downward.
coldly. “Although it would be my
preference. But the doctors are under
the delusion that visitors ‘cheer me up.’”
This was said in a falsely cheerful, mocking sort of voice.
however, being in full possession of your mental faculties, are permitted
freewill and yet here you sit as well.
Thus, Miss Granger, it is your
position that is questionable -- not mine.”
“I thought I made it
clear last time that I would not answer suchstiostions,” she replied, giving
him her best glare. “We appear to be
revisiting old ground, Snape.”
“I have nothing but old
ground,” he said witheringly. “It is
simply a matter of choosing the thorniest patches.”
Finally beginning to
wonder why she thought it would be a good idea to visit Snape on today
drive her out. “Would yoke mke me to
leave, then? Allow you your peace?”
“Feel free to exercise
the luxury of choice,” he drawled.
“Stay or leave, Granger, it makes no difference to me.”
“I never thought I would
say this,” she replied, suddenly tired of him.
“But you, Snape, are a liar.”
He blinked slowly, Hermione had to think The smile widened. She wanted to hex It widened impossibly Frowning, Hermione opened He seesawed a hand back “What?” she gasped, mouth “The fundamental question Unable to reply, although “But you were wrong, She breathed in sharply, Snape’s eyes continued to A tear fell into her Of course he did not She closed her eyes and “And why not now, Miss Interrupting him again, Snape blinked again and “Murder,” she “Sorry,” he said, only a Still angry, she would He scowled darkly. “They don’t know,” she He waved his hand at her, 1'> “Well then, who could “That would depend, Miss She gave him a look full Studying her with an air “Why do you care all of a An eyebrow lifted. Hermione wondered Her stomach turned as Again, she was “The only one capable of “How can you be so sure?” He rolled his eyes at Her throat was dry as she 1'> Snape was quiet, The moment passed and she “Impossible,” he grunted. Hermione blinked, Voice sharpening, Snape “The Dark Arts ...” she His look She fell silent and “To my knowledge, then,” “I don’t know,” she said Again, he cut her > Her gaze did not waver. Snape laughed sharply, His smirk taunted her,
cat-like, and his expression did not change.
“I am many things,” he conceded after a pause. “But never a liar. I always
tell the truth.” Here, he smiled
ferally. “Although it may, at times,
require a certain perspective to discern that fact.”
about it for a few quiet moments, but eventually she had to concede that she’d
never heard an outright lie, or even a half-truth, cross the man’s lips before.
him. Hit him. See that smile disappear.
She hated him.
further -- she’d never seen such an expression on Snape’s face before.
Granger,” he said lazily, leaving her gasping with his perception.
her mouth to object. “I did not.
and forth through the air. “Fear of
being wrong, fear of inadequacy, it’s all the same thing, Granger.
ways -- in the important ways -- your fears were completely founded.
wrong, girl.”
flapping open uncharacteristically.
“You can’t --”
one always asks oneself, Granger, is, Who am I? What is my purpose?
a conscious phenomenon, but it is simply an inevitability of life.
that you were a hero. Destined for
greatness. Your mind would be pitted
against the one you saw to be your only possible intellectual rival -- Voldemort.
Miss Granger.”
exactly why, she was unsure, Hermione just scowled at him.
weren’t you?” he asked, a manic spark of glee dancing in his eyes -- it took her
a moment to realize it for what it was.
“You were wrong. Tell me,
Granger, did you hate Harry Potter when he stole it from you?
hall, did you want to hurt him?”
a physical pain shooting through her belly.
Why was he doing this to her?
twinkle hatefully. “I confess, I cannot
blame you if you did. Everyone knew
that when Voldemort fell, it would be your doing, despite the fact that it
would, by necessity, be by Harry Potter’s hand. Imagine our collective surprise, then, when the little swot
managed it on his own.”
lap. “Stop it,” she said dully.
now he was enjoying her pain.
stop. “Not even Albus thought Potter
had it in him to do it without your coaching.
And I will admit, Potter handled it poorly, rubbing your nose in it like
that. Of course, he does have that air
about him. Always.
possible way in life, he is nothing but --”
Harry’s dead eyes flashed sickeningly through her mind yet again.
st
style="mso-spacerun: yes"> “Don’t you dare
Granger?” he asked softly, acidly.
“Don’t tell me you’re in love
with him. Is that why you returned to
England? I’m afraid to inform you that
Potter is happily --”
she was now crying freely. “Harry is dead
you talk about hn thn that way. Not
when he can’t defend himself.”
the manic glee was gone. “Dead?” he
echoed flatly. “Potter is dead?
repeated. “I cannot believe that you
did not know about it.”
trace of bitterness in his tone. “My
subscription to the Daily Prophet has been revoked recently.”
not back down. “And you receive no other
visitors?”
presence.” His expression became more
thoughtful and his hands relaxed on the tabletop. “Murdered?” he asked again.
“To what purpose, I wonder.”
replied. “Ron told me they think Death
Eaters ...”
cutting her off. “Death Eaters,” he
mimicked nastily. “All Death Eaters fit
nicely into three categories. One --
irretrievably dead. Two -- imprisoned
in Azkaban under the Dementor’s Kiss.
Three -- clinically insane.” He
paused to give her an ironic smile.
“None of these include a condition in which committing murder is
actually possible. No ... your Potter
was no longer a Death Eater target.”
have done it?” she asked impatiently, momentarily putting their previous
conversation out of her mind.
Granger,” he said with a smirk, “on the nature of his death.
of hatred. “He was a loving father of
two who was, by all accounts, absolutely besotted with his wife.
life. Suicide is at least as illogical
as the murder itself.”
of clinical detachment, his voice lacked its prior venom as he spoke.
Granger, usually has an underbelly. But
I will accept your assessment for the moment.
What makes you so sure, then, that it was murder?”
sudden?” she shot back, unwilling to share the details.
impassively for a minute if the details could possibly shock him.
conceivably affect him. Maybe she could
hurt him after all. Maybe his own
apparent lack of compassion could bother him.
“He was slaughtered, Ron said,” she said as coldly and objectively as
she could. “Split open and bled to
death. Like an animal.”
Snape actually perked with interest.
forgetting her presence momentarily.
“No,” he finally said. “Not a
Death Eater.”
defiant. “Why not?”
such a thing would have been Rodolphus Lestrange. He always had a bizarre fondness for knives.
she asked, crossing her arms across her chest.
her. “I witnessed it, Miss
Granger. He slit his own throat in
order to evade capture.” She winced and
he continued. “Curious, though.
say?”
swallowed. “According to Ron,” she said
in a voice barely above a whisper. “He
said the look in his eyes ...”
permitting her grief with an air of indifference.
felt her tears abate. “Yes,” she
repeated. “Yes, that’s what he said.”
unbelieving.
gave her a contemptuous look. “There is
not a spell in existence that could do such a thing, Granger.”
began.
intensified. “Miss Granger, do I need
to remind you exactly whom you are speaking to?”
waited, hoping against hope that he would continue.
he amended fiercely. “There is no such
spell. impossible way for Potter to die. Was
he bound?”
lamely. “But it’s not impossible,” she
continued. “He could have been --”
off. “Are you suggesting what I think
you are?”
day, Snape.”
cynically. “You are
rhetorically. “Think
How do children become aware of their magical abilities?”
spurned her. “Trauma,” she replied
shortly. style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Heightened emotional states bring out
inherent magical abilities.”
added. “And completely
unrestrained. I am certain that you
yourself experienced such childhood events.
Consider further, Miss Granger -- what is the usual outcome of these
incidents?”
She was confused.
rather stupid. “They become aware of
their magical talents, of course.”
He cocked his head, studying
her. “More basic, Granger.
ten story building, it will, generally, not survive. However, if you do the same to a wizard child ...?”
“It survives,” she
breathed. “Usually
landed on my head. My neck should have
snapped instantly, but I was fine ...”
“You illustrate my point,
then,” he said with a short nod. “And
you understand why Potter’s death is impossible.”
She forgot that she was
sitting there, enduring what amounted to an interrogation from awful old
Snape. She was too wrapped up in the knowing
said, wonder in her voice. “It should
have saved him.
produced should have brought out his latent power. It’s happened before with Harry, too.”
Snape nodded again.
period of time to register. Wizards can
be killed in, well, automobile accidents, for example.
in. But I imagine it would take a
considerable amount of time and inspire a fair amount of terror to saw Potter
in two -- more than enough for his magic to throw off anyone who was intent
enough to try. Kill them, if
necessary.” And he folded his hands
neatly on the table, giving her a look that reeked of superiority.
The anger was back.
he speak so callously about Harry’s death?
“A pretty puzzle, Miss
Granger. It does
to die in an impossible fashion like that.”
“Shut up,” she growled,
gritting her teeth. “Leave him alone.”
“Have no fear,” he
said. “I have no intention of wasting
another iota of my time on Potter’s shade.
Let him haunt your mind -- I am
well rid of him.” He was quiet,
ostensibly gauging her reaction to his words.
“Well, little girl, was this visit as pleasant as your last?
academic posturing from before?”
Her eyes narrowed.
He nodded solemnly,
accepting the sentiment. “I expect you
do,” he agreed.
She left him like that,
carefully watching her as she deliberately stood and walked out of the
room. He did not speak, but she felt
his eyes on her back until she closed the door.
As she leaned against it,
breathing deeply, trying to regain her control, she saw a shadow on the floor
that did not match her own. Hermione
looked up. Cuthrell.
“Good morning, Hermione,”
he said warmly. “Just been visiting
with Severus, have we?”
“Go away,” she said in a
tired voice.
He smiled at her.
before. Knowing what he intended from
her, however, made it far more repulsive.
“I can tell you’ve been speaking with Severus,” he teased.
Not smiling, she looked
into his mirthless eyes calmly. “I do
not pretend to understand your meaning, doctor.”
“He does
still affecting c.
the visiting rooms are warded with Silencing Charms. The head of the hospital thinks it’s a good way to gain patient
trust, despite the fact that it interferes with treatment.”
“I do not want to talk to
you,” she replied.
“I’m not asking,” he
said, voice only holding a shadow of a warning. “You spoke with him for well over an hour.
“Nothing of any
significance to you,” she said, looking away.
“Or to him, either.”
Suddenly, Cuthrell
grabbed her chin, forcing her to look into his unexpectedly shrewd gaze.
that made Severus break his self-imposed silence. I am still curious, to be
sure. There appears to be no
discernable relationship between you two.
You were his student while you were at Hogwarts.
“Fascinating, I am sure,”
she spat. “Let me go!”
“Why are you visiting
him, Hermione?” he asked, releasing her.
face, trying to clean the feel of him off of it. “That is none of your concern.
Ask him for all I care.”
He smiled again and it
was decidedly less charming. “Do you
love him, then? Some silly little
schoolgirl crush? Unbelievable, but
then again, stranger things have happened.
Maybe he even loves you in return.
Is that it, Hermione? Are you
letting him fu --”
She slapped him then, of
course.
To his credit, Cuthrell
barely paused as he switched gears. “I
wonder, Hermione, does Albus Dumbledore really know you’re here?”
“Don’t be a fool,” she
berated, stepping away from him.
But he pushed forward,
both physically and psychologically, stepping toward her again as he spoke
. “Dumbledore takes a great
find out about anything ... untoward going on.”
“I agree,” she said,
moving down the hallway and praying he would not follow.
thing is going on, isn’t it, doctor?”
-- -- -- --
Cuthrell did not follow.
Hermione was grateful for
it as she collected her belongings from the friendly receptionist and bid her
farewell. In fact, she managed to stay
fairly composed until she reached her hotel room.
There, sitting on her
bed, her bag in one hand and an apple in the other, was Ron Weasley.
Startled, drained, and
emotionally charged, she burst into abrupt tears. Dropping to her knees there in the doorway, she buried her head
in her hands and damn near howled out her anger and frustration and pain.
“Hermione ...”
She allowed him to wrap
his arms around her shoulders, hands moving up and down her back as she shook
with the effort of her tears. “He was right
“Damn him and he was right!”
“Shh ...” he
clucked. “Who was right, love?”
“Snape,” she moaned into
his shoulder. “He said ... ooh, he said
awful things. But they were true.
“’Course he does,” Ron
whispered soothingly into her ear.
“Snape lies all the time, I’m sure.”
Lifting her head, she
looked up at him with tear-stained eyes.
“How do you know?”
He smiled in reply.
that time, wasn’t he? How was he going
to fool a bunch of Death Eaters and one Dark Lord into believing his fidelity
if he didn’t lie once, at least?”
Giggling through her sobs,
she was chagrined when they turned to hiccups.
“Well,” she began grudgingly, slowly, pausing to hiccup.
“There, there,” he said,
giving her shoulder one last pat before releasing her.
we? We won’t let him hurt us one
bit. In fact, we might even have a
little fun tonight, if we let ol’ Ron have his way.”
“Fu -- hic -- un?” she
echoed, hiccupping in the middle of the word.
“Wha -- hic -- at do you me -- hic -- ean? Da -- hic -- hamn it!”
Ron laughed heartily at
her distress. “Hermione, I missed you
far more than I’d realized.”
She glared.
With a wide grin, he took
her hands and helped her to her feet.
“That’s a fine way to treat the fellow who’s showed up to take you away
from all this,” he said loftily, indicating her dingy hotel room.
1'>
“What?” she asked,
sucking in a deep breath and holding it, mentally counting off the
seconds. A hiccup escaped through her
nose and she blew out, cursing as she did so.
He shook his head and
picked up his apple, biting into it. “I
never understood how you could hiccup while holding your breath.
“I’m spe -- hic --
hecial,” she said sarcastically.
Continuing to eat, he
indicated her bag. “I’ve packed up
everything I could see, but I’m sure I missed a few things.
look-see.”
“Wh -- hic -- here are we
go -- hic -- hing?” she asked as she began opening and closing drawers, picking
up the odd article and shoving it into the bag.
“I’m running away with
you, of course,” he said dramatically, taking another big bite.
“You’re an ih -- hic --
hidiot,” she replied, ducking into the lavatory to scan its contents.
There was a loud slurping
noise that she decided she didn’t want to know about. “D’you want me to scare you?” he asked loudly.
She poked her head out
into the bedroom, carrying her last few toiletries. “Knock yourself out,” she said, suppressing a hiccup with little
success.
“I know for a fact that
Argus Filch likes to go up to the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts late at night and
dance around naked with Mrs. Norris,” he said with a straight face, cradling the
apple core in his left hand.
Hermione made a
face. “You’re right.
He shrugged.
this, Hermione. Now ... hiccup!” he
shouted.
“What?” she asked,
startled.
“I want you to hiccup,
Miss Granger, now!” he roared, in his best Snape voice.
tomorrow!”
She blinked, actually
trying to produce a hiccup in her confusion at his behavior.
Ron’s voice shifted back
to its usual friendly timbre.
“There. All gone now?”
Zipping up her bag, she
realized he had done it. “My hero,” she
sighed dramatically. “I think I’m ready
for you to whisk me away now.”
“Great,” he said, tapping
his apple core with his wand. “Just
grab on, then.” He held it out.
With a shudder, she
shouldered her bag and laid a single finger on the skin of the apple core,
trying not to come in contact with the parts he’d bitten around.
Before he could reply,
she felt a little tug behind her navel and was jerked forward.
so that when her feet hit the floor again, she realized she had no idea what
floor they were standing on.
“Where are we?” she
asked, eyes still not open.
“Your home away from
home,” he replied cheerily. “Mi casa es
su casa, love.”
Finally bringing herself
to open her eyes, the first thing she saw was a huge mass of papers and what
looked to be folders strewn across a room that might possibly hold a sofa.
her. “Hey, Ron?”
He pitched the apple core
into a nearby dustbin. “What?”
“Do you have ... a
familiar?”
“No ...”
Hermione sighed.
-- --
-- --