Deliver Me

Chapter XII – Ormens Svarte Hjerte


Hermione woke up screaming, two sets of hands held her down to the bed, while another injected a little Dreamless Sleep Potion into her blood stream. Her eyes closed and she drifted away.

The potion did not work, however, she dreamed, oh yes did she dream. Yet what she dreamed, she did not understand, she was walking, she saw a house on a hill, in an old very post World War Two English neighborhood:

‘It was large, dark and seemingly abandoned. Hermione saw herself walking up the stairs to enter the house. She saw a snake, a flood of green light and in the snake’s mouth was a letter, similarly to the one she received with the morbis inside.

‘The snake handed her the letter and she opened it. Something was oozing onto her fingertips, she looked down, it was red, there was the strong stench of copper and iron, that gave her mouth a bland sick taste.

‘She looked further down, the blood was from her body, the left side of her body, above her hip, it was spilling on to her white dress. She was dressed in white. Why white? She was bare foot. Hermione looked up again, faced with a young man. He was about her same age, tall, built, handsome, red eyes, neat black hair; she had never seen him before.

‘He said nothing, just smiled. It was a dark, disturbing smile. She had the urge to touch him, his face, to feel if he was really there. Hermione lifted her hand and let her fingertips graze his cheeks leaving three small red blotches of blood, her blood.

‘Hermione saw herself falling backwards, his image getting smaller and darker, until there was nothing. She felt a surge of pain –’

“Hermione?” the voice was vaguely familiar.

“Is she awake?” said another.

“Does it look like it?” someone else said, this voice deep with bitter sentiments.

“The poor child,” that was another voice, sweet and sad with concern.

“Just asking,” said the second voice.

“Well then don’t!” said the third.

“She’s in my house,” said the second.

“She’s in my care,” said the third.

“Hush! The two of you,” the first voice said, it was a woman.

The voices faded and she slept…dreamless.

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Hermione awoke sometime later and attempted to sit up in bed. But she couldn’t something was restraining her, binding her hands to her sides. It was very strange, she couldn’t remember anything, what happened, or how she got there, what day it was, wasn’t there a Runes test coming up? Perhaps not.

She heard someone mumble something and she saw a blue flash encircle her wrists setting them free.

Out of the shadows stepped Professor McGonagall, the Headmaster and Professor Snape.

“My dear,” Dumbledore said softly, “Do you know where you are?”

Hermione nodded, “How did I get here?”

“Professor Snape brought you here,” the headmaster said warmly, “Do you remember?”

“No, I…I don’t. Is everything ok?”

“Yes, yes child, everything is fine,” he lied, “What do you remember?”

Hermione thought about the question for a moment.

“I remember…I remember being in the library with Ron, Harry and Neville. Then we left, I walked to the dormitory and then…and then…” She moved her eyes from Dumbledore and looked at Snape, “I don’t remember, it’s all black after that. Did something happen to me?”

“No, no my dear, nothing that cannot be fixed,” he fibbed, “Just rest, spend the night here, just to make sure.”

“Take this, sweet child,” said McGonagall handing Hermione a glass to drink. She took it and swallowed.

“Rather than wasting your time playing with Weasley and Potter, do try to tend to your meals instead,” muttered Professor Snape.

Hermione watched as McGonagall gave Snape an aggravated look, snapping her head around to pierce him with her eyes.

“What he means, my child,” McGonagall untruthfully interjected, “Is that, you fainted because you did not eat. And as I recall, we did have a little chat about you and your meals. Hermione it is important that you nourish yourself.”

Dumbledore remained quiet.

“But I don’t remember and-” Hermione started before Snape cut across her words, “Of course you don’t remember, if you ate like you were suppose to, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, you would be in the dungeons reading up on the advanced stages of Polyjuice Potion and I could be doing something more useful that wallowing with you in the hospital, do I make myself clear Miss Granger?”

“Severus, let the girl alone, she needs rest, and should be well enough soon,” Dumbledore told them.

McGonagall nodded, as Albus escorted her out the room, Severus stayed behind.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, though she was not sure what she was apologizing for.

“You should be.”

“If you have the reading, I’ll do it tomorrow, since I can’t leave, it is something to do.”

“The work I give you should not just be ‘something to do’ Miss Granger.”

She nodded her head, and just waited for him to say something else. With his arms folded across his chest, he looked at her, unyielding and cold. Hermione brought her covers further up her body, she was beginning to feel very chilly, rested her head back against her pillow and let her eyes scurry around the room looking for a hearth, there was not one, at least not in the hospital wing.

“Are you cold?” His voice was icier than the room.

“Aren’t you?” She was wondering how on earth he was still remaining so composed.

“I asked you a question, do try to answer it, rather than foolishly digressing otherwise.”

“I was just asking about your welfare professor, forgive me if I upset you. And yes, I am cold.”

“You should apologize when I hold you responsible for whatever nonsense flows off your tongue thoughtlessly. Until then, which should be soon again I gather, try not to be so naïve,” he used his wand and a sudden rush of warmth filled her, “better?”

“Thank you,” she made herself cozy under the blankets, “naïve professor?”

Severus sneered at the prone girl, "Yes, Miss Granger, naïve. Let's not pretend you didn't discover - at least in a small measure - exactly how naive you really are the other night."

“Professor, I...you...us...naïve?”

"Oh Miss Granger, spare me your incoherent babble. You thought you could lead me around and not have to deal with the fall out. The other night you discovered how vile men can really be," Severus spoke of the guilt overwhelming him at taking her virginity and being rough with her.

“Are you admitting that you are one of those vile men? A little late for nobility isn't it?”

“While I have known I was vile for the past twenty years, I will assume you just found out, hence your naivety Miss Granger. I never wrapped myself in the nobility of the Gryffindor house and I can see I am upsetting you, so I shall remove myself you’re your sight and we can end this inane line of discussion.”

“This discussion that you, as I might point out, brought up is insane? Well then isn't that interesting.”

“Miss Granger,” he warned her with a low growl, “do not tread in waters too deep for you swim.”

“We are both in deep waters, dear professor, I highly doubt it can get any deeper without us both drowning.”

“Then I should leave. While I have no doubt as to my ability to keep my head above water, you have repeatedly shown your inability to even notice you’re in danger of getting pulled under.”

“And you have? That's it then… Go ahead and leave, isn't that what you do best? Leave, push away and ignore. No wait, you are brave, aren’t you? You fearlessly spy on Voldemort – but wait! That was only after you ran back to Dumbledore because in your moment of fear and weakness you branded yourself to the dark lord. Cheers to you.”

“Miss Granger, I insist you calm yourself and do not speak of what you do not know of.”

“I am calm. But if you feed the fire, you should be willing to take its flames. How can you be so downright egotistical. You really do drive me mad. There is no sense in attempting to hold a decent conversation with you… Just leave me alone.”

Severus rolled his eyes, this was too much symbolism, “Decent? This conversation is far from decent, topic alone. Miss Granger, what exactly do you want to hear me say? I'm a complete and utter bastard.”

“No! I don't want you to say that, seriously you are as brilliant and as daft as they come.”

Severus began to walk towards the door when she called him back, “Don't go, I'm not finished with you yet.”

Severus whipped around, “You are not finished with me yet? I beg your pardon? You just told me to leave.”

“No, I want to have a decent conversation with you.”

“Decent? I thought we went over that already, what is decent about what happened Hermione?”

“Everything and nothing at all.”

Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose, “I thought you had…experience.”

“I wanted you… yes… but not like that, it should have been different for us.”

What could he say to that, it should have been different, but it was far from what either of them wanted. Severus nodded carefully, “Yes, it should have been different,” was all he allowed himself to say, “it should have been different because it should not have happened at all.”

“Do you really believe that? I mean can you really tell me that you believe that?” she was close to tears.

Distressed at the level of emotion she was working herself into Severus relented a small bit, “I mean, while I think you are a beautiful young woman,” he paused, he had to get this just right, “this should not have happened at the present time.”

Hermione stared at him, what could she tell him to make him understand, “I think I love you.”

Oh, in the name of Salazar, Merlin, Morgana and Albus she did not just say that! Severus thought to himself before saying, “Hermione, I –”

“No wait don't say anything, please don't. I would rather not know. Things can't go back to the way they were before, I know that, but...”

“Hermione, I think you are confusing lust and love.”

She looked down and took a deep breath before quieting saying, “If that's what you think, then go ahead and believe it,” she look up at him then, “but I don't.”

“How could you think you love me after... the way it ended Hermione. That wasn't making love.”

“It wasn't that, not the sex, it was much more before that when I started feeling this way. I think my entire attitude about you changed that night in the corridors, silly isn't it?”

“I don't know what to say Hermione. I wasn't very kind to you – I regret my part in your current emotional upheaval.”

“Don't regret anything. No regrets ever, what we do makes us who we are, I'll never regret it.”

Severus fell silent.

Hermione looked away from him and diverted her eyes to the blackness of the back of her eyelids before falling fast asleep.


‘She heard a voice behind her, “My girl, you have returned.”

‘There he was, that man from her first dream. “Returned? Who are you?” she heard herself say. He laughed, “I am you.”

‘Hermione looked very puzzled, his hands were warm as he caressed her cheek and twirled his fingers in her hair.

‘There was a surge of pain and she crumpled to the floor, her abdomen was aching, she looked down, she was bleeding…’


She woke in a cold sweat. Who was that? What was going on? Hermione pushed her feet into her slippers, hastily grabbed her robe and ran for the bathroom.

She found the mirror, raised her shirt and pulled her pants just below her belly where she thought she felt the burn. There was the mark Severus pointed out to her, it was no longer brown, it was red like a fresh cut, but it was dry. Damn it! She needed air, this was too much, that man and that dream, she remembered the first dream, was she suppose to?

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Hogwarts was dangerous at night, this she knew, but still she didn’t care, Hermione needed to get out, she needed to think, or at least try too. She found her way back to her favorite spot by the lake, pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her head against a tree.

xxxxxxxxxx

Madame Pomfrey ushered towards Hermione’s bed only to find her gone. She ran to find Albus, Severus and Minerva. Albus sat at his desk quietly watching Severus and Minerva argue, it was pointless to intervene because the two eventually worked everything out, but the road to getting there was a entirely different matter.

“She is gone?” asked Minerva.

“Don’t you hear anything?” snapped Severus.

“What did you say to her after we left?” she demanded scolding Severus.

“Why does everything have to be my fault?” he was cranky.

“Because you never have anything good to say, every word that seems to come out of your mouth these days is completely contemptible, arrogant and-”

“So what? What kind of head of house are you? At least my Slytherins are in line. Miss Granger needs to be held responsible for whatever thoughtless statements come out her mouth.”

“So it is your fault! And furthermore, more than half your Slytherins don’t have half a brain to do anything near what she is capable of, intellectually, magically and otherwise!”

“For the love of Morgana woman, shut up! I have a idea where is she, and you better pray Minerva, that when I find her, that she’s ill with hypothermia, because it just might gain her some sympathy, if not I intend to give it to her!”

“Don’t you dare! Severus Snape, I’ll hex you into next week if you harm her-” and he was gone, “Albus you cannot let him carry around like that-”

“No my dear, he does know what he is doing, and strange enough, seems to be the only one she opens up too. Miss Granger is a smart girl she wouldn’t wander around Hogwarts for no apparent reason.”

“It is dangerous and Albus she is ill.”

“Yes, true, but I do not believe that her illness is controlling her mind tonight. No, I think our Hermione is in her right state of mind, but running circles around it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lemon drop, Minerva? It has been such a long night.”

xxxxxxxxxx

The one and only usual place he knew she would be, how predictable, he looked at her, finding it amusing that she wasn’t laying atop the rock she favored so much, no, she was resting against a tree staring blankly out onto the lake.

“If the Hogwarts lake were home to a serpent rather than a giant squid, you, Miss Granger might not be alive at the moment to tell the tale, rather, you do seem to enjoy gallivanting into highly dangerous areas at all hours of the night,” he was being sarcastic, usual tricks, just brilliant.

“But Professor it is not, and therefore I am not. Besides you seem enjoy it as well, for you always find me,” short, sweet and simple, that was her reply.

“I do my job, that is all,” they were getting back into their old verbal sparring sessions.

“You know what’s wrong with me, don’t you, tell me,” she never looked at him, her eyes remained locked on the vast moonlight body of water before her.

“The only thing wrong with you is your incessant irrational behavior that would lead some to believe that you are attempting to kill yourself by some elaborate plan of a planned accident.”

She ignored him, “So you do know. How long have you known?”

“If you were dying Miss Granger, and I do reiterate the word ‘if’, what would be your last wish as a being here on this earth?”

“Am I dying?”

“Answer the question,” he was being icy tonight.

“Truthfully?”

“Try not to be dense for once by answering questions with questions, I do tire of it.”

“I would want to die happy, free from the anxiety and endless sorrow, I would want to fill the void inside of me that seems to appear and take me over…the edge.”

He was baffled by her admission, but remained silent.

“Does that satisfy you? Are you pleased now? Or is my truth too intense for you?”
He watched her as she got up from leaning against the tree, brushed herself off and began to walk away from him in the opposite direction of the castle towards the lake.

“Where are you going?” he didn’t follow her, but waited for a response.

Sarcastically she answered, “To make friends with the squid and drown myself willingly, want to watch?”

She felt him grab her and haul her up against the tree bark so forcefully, the air momentarily stopped flowing through her, she could feel the jagged edges of the bark digging into her back and she let out a scream.

“Do not ever let me hear you speak of such things again,” he growled into her ears, his face so close.

“My back – I can’t – You’re hurting me!”

He pushed harder, “Promise right now, you’ll never speak of such things ever again – Do it!”

Hermione winced the pain away, she could feel tears stinging her eyes, “Promise me!” he roared at her.

“I…I pro…promise,” it came out in a ragged whisper and he released her feeling her fall into him.

Severus felt her body slump against his leaving him to support her.

She didn’t cry, or hold on to him, she was just there. He moved his arms around her and cradled her sinking slowly onto the ground.

“Don’t let me go,” she whispered.

“I could never,” he answered

“Is that an admission that you care?” her voice was low and muffled because her face was buried in his neck.

“No.”

She sighed and her arms found their way to slump atop his.

“I bled.”

“How much?”

“Too much.”

He was silent and rocked them forward and back subconsciously.

She shifted slightly and moved her face to the front of his, “You do know, I know you do. Please, Severus I’m asking you again, tell me what’s going on, who is that man in my dreams, what’s happening?”

“You are to address me as ‘Professor, Miss Granger,” he said softly.

She didn’t like that answer and she moved to get away from him, but let out an unexpected moan of pain that caught his immediate attention. Hermione’s hands gripped his shoulders, “I hate you, you hurt me, every time I’m near you, you hurt me, Professor.”

Of course she was right, her entire back was scratched, red and raw from his musings.

Without a word, he stood up, taking her with him, before swinging her across his shoulder.

“Where are you taking me? I’m not a sack of potatoes!”

He didn’t answer her.

“Put me down!”

He continued to hold her.

“Are you going to answer me?”

She knew they had made their way into the hospital wing.

“I’ll scream – what are you doing – if Madame Pomfrey finds you doing this – ” she gasped at his threw her across her hospital bed face down, before preceding to rip the back of her shirt off. “What are you doing? Get off me!” she yelled.

His hand covered her mouth to silence her; she was fidgeting as his legs pinned her down.

Hermione attempted to thrash her body around some more, but it didn’t work and she felt something cold and pasty touch or bare skin followed but his fingers.

The healing paste was cold and smelled sour.


She was sitting on the hospital bed, under her covers, watching him watch her in a chair by the window, “Why did you ask me what I wanted? Are you capable of fulfilling such requests?” Her voice was meek and low.

“I can capable of many things Miss Granger, many of which you cannot begin to imagine.”

“Is that a threat?”

He exhaled in agitation, “Can you never take words for what they are, rather than trying to see something in them that is not even there?”

She didn’t have an answer for that.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” he asked after long moments of silence between them.

“Do what?”

“Cause yourself immense discomfort and pain for no apparent reason. It is not in your character.”

“You don’t know anything about me. So don’t pretend like you care, or that you ever cared.”

“Do you truly believe that Miss Granger?”

Hermione shifted around the bed uncomfortably, “What are you asking me? Of course I do. You know talking to you is like talking to a bloody troll, though I do think they have higher attention spans.”

Why was she suddenly being very difficult?

“Furthermore,” she continued, without letting him get in any words, “it’s all your fault. Everytime, I’m near you I get hurt, I get bruised, I nearly get killed, I get verbally assaulted or I end up naked and scared. Take your pick which you would like to bestow upon me this evening?”

He dodged her questions and asked one of his own, “After we started to have – after that night of the thunderstorm, did I scare you when I stopped?”

“What do you think?”

“I know what I think Hermione, but what do you think?”

“It’s Miss Granger, professor, we must keep it professional, don’t you think?”

He was becoming very aggravated and frustrated, she was surely being obtuse and daft on purpose.

“So tell me what was it like?” she asked interrupting this thoughts.

“What was what like?”

“Working for Voldemort? What was it like when he called you and your arm, the burning…”

“I do not know what you are speaking about Miss Granger. Kindly leave what does not concern you alone.”

“But it does concern me!” she screeched.

He raised an eyebrow, “Calm yourself and pray tell, how?”

“I think he’s calling me.”

Severus laughed.

“Don’t be ridiculous, lack of food, that’s what it is, you’re brain is becoming full of nonsense like your silly little friends.”

She did not look convinced.

“Put out your arms, both of them, and look, no skulls and snakes. Satisfied?”

Hermione slumped her arms down in defeat and uncertainty. She was smart enough to know when something was wrong, especially with herself, she remembered her dreams, she saw the blood and something wasn’t falling into to place, but what she did not know.

“You are the king of beasts and I do believe I hate you,” her voice was low and she deterred her eyes to the window.

“Hate is such a strong word,” he knew she wanted him to leave, but he had no intention of being dismissed by a mere child, “besides it gladdens me to hear it.”

She looked up at him in fury, reached for the vase of flowers next to her bed, grabbed them, let out a piercing scream and threw the glass vase at him.


** “Ormens Svarte Hjerte” means “The Black Heart of the Serpent” in Norwegian... **