Love Vigilantes
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Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
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Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
26
Views:
7,105
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I own none of the Harry Potter fandom; J.K.R gets all the credit here. I'm not getting any money from this either, only my own artistic satisfaction.
On Your Shore
Reviews are always welcome!
“In my heart I know you couldn’t see in the dark or find your way through me. Now I’m alone, my hands are numb. How do I carry on? At the turn of the tide, I feel this part of me die. Am I washed on your shore, barely alive?” (On Your Shore, by Charlotte Martin)
A month had gone by since Hermione’s potion hadn’t produced the spectacular results she anticipated, and she was no closer to finding the answer than she had been before. She spent all of her evenings in Snape’s study, silently scrutinizing every book his private library housed, looking for some hint as to what it was that she possibly could have missed. She was having little luck.
Most of these nights of investigation ended with her in tears while Severus tried to calm her, watching as her desperation grew day by day. She clearly wasn’t used to waiting this long for favorable results. He tried to help her but had no idea how; her problem with the project even escaped his knowledge as a Potions Master. The only thing he knew to do was to make her take care of herself, a seemingly impossible task considering how engrossed she was in her work. Severus was certain that she would have been dead already if he hadn’t guilted her into eating by cooking for her, before she had the chance to object to meals, and getting her to sleep by adding a mild Sleeping Draught to her drinks each night. He despised himself for deceiving her in this way but convinced himself that it was for the best, vowing that he wouldn’t stand by idle as she suffered.
Despite all of their hardships, a friendship grew between the pair, something neither of them would have ever expected to come to fruition. True to their words, neither Hermione nor Severus asked questions about the other’s personal life, but they settled into an easy and comfortable routine of academic debate. Hermione seemed to be continuously bouncing ideas of how to fix her potion off of Severus, and he would readily challenge her, teaching her to fully examine each of her options for potential pitfalls. Their conversations soon included the other magical disciplines as well, and they found themselves talking for hours each evening as Hermione worked. Although they teased that either he was distracting her or she was wearing on his nerves, Hermione and Severus found their time together to be enjoyable. In fact, it was their favorite time of day. Hermione enjoyed being able to have the sorts of discussions she could only dream of having with her peers, and Severus was pleased to find someone with a well rounded intellect. The conversations he had with his colleagues at Hogwarts were often one-sided; each professor was intent on turning the subject towards their specialty rather than examining the interconnectedness of all magical abilities.
Both of them had managed to keep their emotions well checked and hidden. This growing friendship had served as a distraction from their near obsessions with one another, and drew their focuses away from the nervous energy that, on occasion, pervaded their meetings. Of course, they each mused on their feelings when alone, but the ability to freely converse without disastrous results calmed their fears. It was proven that they could be in contact with one another even if they couldn’t act on their growing attractions. As much as they could be, they were content.
*******
On one such evening of research, Hermione sat in what was now ‘her’ chair in Snape’s study. She was poring over a book that detailed the intricacies of combining various potions in the hopes that she would realize her mistake in attempting to mix the properties of Strengthening Solutions, Calming Drafts, Dittany, and the Elixir of Euphoria to combat the degenerate effects of the Cruciatus Curse. Her research was swiftly suspended, however, as she heard Severus yell from his office.
“FUCK, NOT NOW!”
Hermione ran toward the sound, discomforted that it was Severus who was screaming obscenities instead of her. She had never seen him truly upset about anything and was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to help him. She opened the door and gasped as she saw him slumped over his desk, clutching his left forearm in pain, his hand covering the area where she knew he had been branded with the Dark Mark. Immediately, Hermione realized what was happening and felt a new wave of fear take hold of her; a kind of fear she had never felt before, not even for Harry. Sure, Voldemort was purely driven by his desire to kill Harry, but the boy-who-was-still-living only met his nemesis face to face around once a year. Severus was at the mercy of The Dark Lord’s whims rather frequently, something Hermione hadn’t taken the time to adequately consider…until now.
“O God, he’s summoned you, hasn’t he?” Hermione whispered as her shock washed over her, reluctant to speak too loudly, worrying that it would only cause him more pain. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to go to the Dark Lord, you silly girl. What else would you expect? Would you like to explain to Voldemort that my schedule was so busy that I just couldn’t fit in a summons tonight? I’d love to see his response to that. He’d Crucio you into next week,” Severus replied, slowly standing straight as the stabbing pain of his Mark began to subside.
“I’m sorry, Severus. I’m just so worried for you. I understand you’re angry, but that’s no excuse for you to speak to me in that manner.” Hermione would have been lying to suggest that she wasn’t hurt by his ridicule, but she understood that he was in the process of transforming into the Death Eater who would soon stand in the presence of Lord Voldemort. It had to be hard on him.
“I am not angry…at least, not at you. I apologize for speaking to you so harshly. Now, you need to agree to what I’m about to request of you, Hermione, no matter how much you may not wish to comply. Do you understand me? Will you do as I say?”
“Yes…” Hermione answered hesitantly. She wasn’t sure that it was a good idea for her to agree to something without first hearing what that something would require of her, but she wanted to please Severus. He needed something to go right for him at the present, and Hermione was determined to provide the certainty of assistance that he desired.
“Hermione, you will not be here when I return. I want you to go back to your rooms in Gryffindor Tower as soon as I leave. I will contact you to schedule our next meeting. Do not try to contact me before then. Please do this for me. I will not have you burdened by the suffering that is only mine to bear.”
Severus’ request was met with silence as Hermione stared at him in disbelief. She assumed that she must have heard him incorrectly. How could he ask her to leave him to Voldemort? No one else in the castle knew of the evening’s summons. What if he was injured and too weak to call for help? He could die if she didn’t stay. The astonishment in her eyes soon turned to rage as she realized the multitude of results implied by his request and responded with full force.
“NO! You can’t force me to promise that. I won’t do it, Severus; I won’t. You may refuse to subject me to the difficult life you lead, but I refuse to stand aside and let you be hurt without anyone to care. I will be here for you, whether you like it or not. I can handle this. I chose this. It’s not fair for you to deal with this on your own. You might not want to admit it, but you need someone. At this moment, that someone is me. You need me.”
Severus turned away from her, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hold his resolve if he looked at her now. He couldn’t allow himself to be swayed by her pleading. God forbid she start to cry; he hated it when she cried. “Hermione…please. You cannot begin to comprehend Voldemort’s power and cruelty; what you’ve seen him do with Mister Potter is child’s play. You don’t know what you’re getting into. I know that I cannot force you; you’re more determined now than I’ve ever seen you before. All I ask is that you consider how you could be effected if you stay. Remember your dream. I urge you to leave immediately. Please.” With that, he stepped into the fireplace and disappeared, leaving Hermione in tears on the floor. She sobbed into the empty room as though it could offer her some bit of advice or assistance.
“I’ll wait for you, Severus.”
*******
“Ah, Severus, I can’t say that I am glad to see you. I didn’t wish to be summoning you so soon. You have greatly disappointed me. Of all the faithful, I would never have expected such incompetence from you,” Voldemort spoke, standing from his chair, as he saw Snape approach him and kneel in submission to his power.
“I fail to understand your meaning, my Lord. I have done all that you have asked. I–”
“You have not done it well enough. I have neither the time nor the patience for your excuses tonight.” Voldemort cut him off instantly, disinterested in hearing his explanation. “The boy is not succeeding. He is weak; his fear controls him. Did I not make you responsible for his actions? You are my sole influence at Hogwarts. Was I not clear that any failure on his part would also be a failure on yours? How else am I to ensure that my plan will succeed?”
“You were explicitly clear, my Lord, but I can hardly be expected to control his emotions. I have kept him on track, demanding that he complete the tasks you have assigned to him. It is his family’s impositions, not mine, that are the cause of his weakness.” Severus looked up at him from his position on the ground, anticipating that his answer would be satisfactory. He had become quite adept in maneuvering around the Dark Lord’s anger during his many years of service. With any luck, this time would be no different. Unfortunately, the menacing glow in Voldemort’s eyes led Snape to think otherwise.
“It is true that his family has held him back, but you are wrong in thinking that you cannot control his emotions. You know very well that persuasion is one of your strengths. You’ve kept Dumbledore hanging off of your every word for years. He trusts you implicitly. As such, there is no doubt in my mind that your efforts could convince the boy to succeed. You could assuage his concerns in an instant; you know that. All you have to do is enter his mind; tamper with it. This you have not tried Severus, and for that, you have disappointed me. I demand excellence from you, nothing less…CRUCIO!”
Severus collapsed to the floor in agony, shaking as the all too familiar curse ran its course through him. He looked down to see the blood flowing from the gashes now striping his body. It seemed that his scars never had time to heal properly before he was tortured again; the mere involuntary twisting and convulsing of his body was enough to reopen his wounds. He desperately hoped that Hermione had the good sense to leave before he returned; it wouldn’t do well for her to see her nightmarish vision come to life. He could barely imagine the panic attack she’d have upon seeing him in this state. Severus was only vaguely aware of the wave of hexes being thrown at him as he began to retreat deep into his mind, blocking out the pain. Voldemort may have broken Severus’ body, but could never break his mind; that was his escape. He let the numbness wash over him as he willed himself to survive, if not for himself, for her. He would suffer it all for Hermione. Just as he, in some way, needed her that night, she needed him as well.
*******
Hermione had fallen asleep in the center of the floor in Severus’ office, unable to fight off the fatiguing demons whose war raged on inside of her. Her sleep was continuously plagued by the flashing images of Snape’s lifeless body from her nightmares, until a low groan from across the room woke her. She knelt up to see Snape lying in front of the fireplace completely broken and unable to move. She had no idea how he had come to be there, but it was hardly of any concern to her. She crawled over and reached for him, noticing just how badly he was injured; his blood began to stain her own clothes as she drew him to her. When Hermione gasped at the contact between his blood and her bare skin, Severus finally opened his eyes and began to speak.
“Hermione…you stayed?” he whispered, knowing that he only had a brief moment with her before his loss of blood and physical trauma would force him to hurdle towards unconsciousness. It was a routine to which he was accustomed. He almost welcomed the heavy, empty feeling of his blackouts. It was as though they were able to erase even his most vivid memories. In those moments, before he succumbed to the weakness of his own body, and his mind was wiped clean of any thought, he felt at peace. He knew it was unhealthy to practically welcome these near-death experiences, but he found it to be a valuable catharsis, considering that he had no one with whom to share his inmost torturing thoughts.
“Of course I stayed, Severus. You knew that I would. If not, you should have known. How could I leave and let you come back to an empty study?” Hermione choked out through the weight of her unshed tears as she held his damaged body more tightly in her arms, “I couldn’t bear to let you handle this alone. You were right. I didn’t know how badly he was going to hurt you, but I’m still here. I won’t run away from you. Not now. I’m so sorry Severus. I’m sorry for so much; for the years you’ve had to go through this alone, for every time you’ve been tortured. If only my blasted potion was finished! You could have been spared this. I will make it work, Severus. We will make it work. But what can I do to help you now?” Hermione cut her ramblings short when she saw the disconcerting way the professor’s eyes were drifting shut and reopening. He wasn’t going to last much longer.
“Hermione, go find Madam Pomfrey. She knows what to do; you may help her heal me, if you wish. Then tell Albus what happened. Someone will have to instruct my classes. But, Hermione…why did you stay? I’ve been the cause of so many of your life’s anxieties. How could you possibly concern yourself with what happens to me?”
Hermione paused to think before answering him. “I don’t know Severus. I can’t begin to describe how I feel right now,” she reflected as the image of his battered body wrecked havoc on her senses. “I’ve never felt like this before, and I’ll admit that it scares me. I’ve never worried as much in my life as I did for you tonight, and I’ve certainly never seen anything this horrific. This goes so far beyond anything Harry, Ron, or I have ever experienced. All I’m sure of now is one thing.” Her final words were the last he heard before being claimed by dreamless sleep at last.
“Severus…I trust you.”
“In my heart I know you couldn’t see in the dark or find your way through me. Now I’m alone, my hands are numb. How do I carry on? At the turn of the tide, I feel this part of me die. Am I washed on your shore, barely alive?” (On Your Shore, by Charlotte Martin)
A month had gone by since Hermione’s potion hadn’t produced the spectacular results she anticipated, and she was no closer to finding the answer than she had been before. She spent all of her evenings in Snape’s study, silently scrutinizing every book his private library housed, looking for some hint as to what it was that she possibly could have missed. She was having little luck.
Most of these nights of investigation ended with her in tears while Severus tried to calm her, watching as her desperation grew day by day. She clearly wasn’t used to waiting this long for favorable results. He tried to help her but had no idea how; her problem with the project even escaped his knowledge as a Potions Master. The only thing he knew to do was to make her take care of herself, a seemingly impossible task considering how engrossed she was in her work. Severus was certain that she would have been dead already if he hadn’t guilted her into eating by cooking for her, before she had the chance to object to meals, and getting her to sleep by adding a mild Sleeping Draught to her drinks each night. He despised himself for deceiving her in this way but convinced himself that it was for the best, vowing that he wouldn’t stand by idle as she suffered.
Despite all of their hardships, a friendship grew between the pair, something neither of them would have ever expected to come to fruition. True to their words, neither Hermione nor Severus asked questions about the other’s personal life, but they settled into an easy and comfortable routine of academic debate. Hermione seemed to be continuously bouncing ideas of how to fix her potion off of Severus, and he would readily challenge her, teaching her to fully examine each of her options for potential pitfalls. Their conversations soon included the other magical disciplines as well, and they found themselves talking for hours each evening as Hermione worked. Although they teased that either he was distracting her or she was wearing on his nerves, Hermione and Severus found their time together to be enjoyable. In fact, it was their favorite time of day. Hermione enjoyed being able to have the sorts of discussions she could only dream of having with her peers, and Severus was pleased to find someone with a well rounded intellect. The conversations he had with his colleagues at Hogwarts were often one-sided; each professor was intent on turning the subject towards their specialty rather than examining the interconnectedness of all magical abilities.
Both of them had managed to keep their emotions well checked and hidden. This growing friendship had served as a distraction from their near obsessions with one another, and drew their focuses away from the nervous energy that, on occasion, pervaded their meetings. Of course, they each mused on their feelings when alone, but the ability to freely converse without disastrous results calmed their fears. It was proven that they could be in contact with one another even if they couldn’t act on their growing attractions. As much as they could be, they were content.
On one such evening of research, Hermione sat in what was now ‘her’ chair in Snape’s study. She was poring over a book that detailed the intricacies of combining various potions in the hopes that she would realize her mistake in attempting to mix the properties of Strengthening Solutions, Calming Drafts, Dittany, and the Elixir of Euphoria to combat the degenerate effects of the Cruciatus Curse. Her research was swiftly suspended, however, as she heard Severus yell from his office.
“FUCK, NOT NOW!”
Hermione ran toward the sound, discomforted that it was Severus who was screaming obscenities instead of her. She had never seen him truly upset about anything and was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to help him. She opened the door and gasped as she saw him slumped over his desk, clutching his left forearm in pain, his hand covering the area where she knew he had been branded with the Dark Mark. Immediately, Hermione realized what was happening and felt a new wave of fear take hold of her; a kind of fear she had never felt before, not even for Harry. Sure, Voldemort was purely driven by his desire to kill Harry, but the boy-who-was-still-living only met his nemesis face to face around once a year. Severus was at the mercy of The Dark Lord’s whims rather frequently, something Hermione hadn’t taken the time to adequately consider…until now.
“O God, he’s summoned you, hasn’t he?” Hermione whispered as her shock washed over her, reluctant to speak too loudly, worrying that it would only cause him more pain. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to go to the Dark Lord, you silly girl. What else would you expect? Would you like to explain to Voldemort that my schedule was so busy that I just couldn’t fit in a summons tonight? I’d love to see his response to that. He’d Crucio you into next week,” Severus replied, slowly standing straight as the stabbing pain of his Mark began to subside.
“I’m sorry, Severus. I’m just so worried for you. I understand you’re angry, but that’s no excuse for you to speak to me in that manner.” Hermione would have been lying to suggest that she wasn’t hurt by his ridicule, but she understood that he was in the process of transforming into the Death Eater who would soon stand in the presence of Lord Voldemort. It had to be hard on him.
“I am not angry…at least, not at you. I apologize for speaking to you so harshly. Now, you need to agree to what I’m about to request of you, Hermione, no matter how much you may not wish to comply. Do you understand me? Will you do as I say?”
“Yes…” Hermione answered hesitantly. She wasn’t sure that it was a good idea for her to agree to something without first hearing what that something would require of her, but she wanted to please Severus. He needed something to go right for him at the present, and Hermione was determined to provide the certainty of assistance that he desired.
“Hermione, you will not be here when I return. I want you to go back to your rooms in Gryffindor Tower as soon as I leave. I will contact you to schedule our next meeting. Do not try to contact me before then. Please do this for me. I will not have you burdened by the suffering that is only mine to bear.”
Severus’ request was met with silence as Hermione stared at him in disbelief. She assumed that she must have heard him incorrectly. How could he ask her to leave him to Voldemort? No one else in the castle knew of the evening’s summons. What if he was injured and too weak to call for help? He could die if she didn’t stay. The astonishment in her eyes soon turned to rage as she realized the multitude of results implied by his request and responded with full force.
“NO! You can’t force me to promise that. I won’t do it, Severus; I won’t. You may refuse to subject me to the difficult life you lead, but I refuse to stand aside and let you be hurt without anyone to care. I will be here for you, whether you like it or not. I can handle this. I chose this. It’s not fair for you to deal with this on your own. You might not want to admit it, but you need someone. At this moment, that someone is me. You need me.”
Severus turned away from her, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hold his resolve if he looked at her now. He couldn’t allow himself to be swayed by her pleading. God forbid she start to cry; he hated it when she cried. “Hermione…please. You cannot begin to comprehend Voldemort’s power and cruelty; what you’ve seen him do with Mister Potter is child’s play. You don’t know what you’re getting into. I know that I cannot force you; you’re more determined now than I’ve ever seen you before. All I ask is that you consider how you could be effected if you stay. Remember your dream. I urge you to leave immediately. Please.” With that, he stepped into the fireplace and disappeared, leaving Hermione in tears on the floor. She sobbed into the empty room as though it could offer her some bit of advice or assistance.
“I’ll wait for you, Severus.”
“Ah, Severus, I can’t say that I am glad to see you. I didn’t wish to be summoning you so soon. You have greatly disappointed me. Of all the faithful, I would never have expected such incompetence from you,” Voldemort spoke, standing from his chair, as he saw Snape approach him and kneel in submission to his power.
“I fail to understand your meaning, my Lord. I have done all that you have asked. I–”
“You have not done it well enough. I have neither the time nor the patience for your excuses tonight.” Voldemort cut him off instantly, disinterested in hearing his explanation. “The boy is not succeeding. He is weak; his fear controls him. Did I not make you responsible for his actions? You are my sole influence at Hogwarts. Was I not clear that any failure on his part would also be a failure on yours? How else am I to ensure that my plan will succeed?”
“You were explicitly clear, my Lord, but I can hardly be expected to control his emotions. I have kept him on track, demanding that he complete the tasks you have assigned to him. It is his family’s impositions, not mine, that are the cause of his weakness.” Severus looked up at him from his position on the ground, anticipating that his answer would be satisfactory. He had become quite adept in maneuvering around the Dark Lord’s anger during his many years of service. With any luck, this time would be no different. Unfortunately, the menacing glow in Voldemort’s eyes led Snape to think otherwise.
“It is true that his family has held him back, but you are wrong in thinking that you cannot control his emotions. You know very well that persuasion is one of your strengths. You’ve kept Dumbledore hanging off of your every word for years. He trusts you implicitly. As such, there is no doubt in my mind that your efforts could convince the boy to succeed. You could assuage his concerns in an instant; you know that. All you have to do is enter his mind; tamper with it. This you have not tried Severus, and for that, you have disappointed me. I demand excellence from you, nothing less…CRUCIO!”
Severus collapsed to the floor in agony, shaking as the all too familiar curse ran its course through him. He looked down to see the blood flowing from the gashes now striping his body. It seemed that his scars never had time to heal properly before he was tortured again; the mere involuntary twisting and convulsing of his body was enough to reopen his wounds. He desperately hoped that Hermione had the good sense to leave before he returned; it wouldn’t do well for her to see her nightmarish vision come to life. He could barely imagine the panic attack she’d have upon seeing him in this state. Severus was only vaguely aware of the wave of hexes being thrown at him as he began to retreat deep into his mind, blocking out the pain. Voldemort may have broken Severus’ body, but could never break his mind; that was his escape. He let the numbness wash over him as he willed himself to survive, if not for himself, for her. He would suffer it all for Hermione. Just as he, in some way, needed her that night, she needed him as well.
Hermione had fallen asleep in the center of the floor in Severus’ office, unable to fight off the fatiguing demons whose war raged on inside of her. Her sleep was continuously plagued by the flashing images of Snape’s lifeless body from her nightmares, until a low groan from across the room woke her. She knelt up to see Snape lying in front of the fireplace completely broken and unable to move. She had no idea how he had come to be there, but it was hardly of any concern to her. She crawled over and reached for him, noticing just how badly he was injured; his blood began to stain her own clothes as she drew him to her. When Hermione gasped at the contact between his blood and her bare skin, Severus finally opened his eyes and began to speak.
“Hermione…you stayed?” he whispered, knowing that he only had a brief moment with her before his loss of blood and physical trauma would force him to hurdle towards unconsciousness. It was a routine to which he was accustomed. He almost welcomed the heavy, empty feeling of his blackouts. It was as though they were able to erase even his most vivid memories. In those moments, before he succumbed to the weakness of his own body, and his mind was wiped clean of any thought, he felt at peace. He knew it was unhealthy to practically welcome these near-death experiences, but he found it to be a valuable catharsis, considering that he had no one with whom to share his inmost torturing thoughts.
“Of course I stayed, Severus. You knew that I would. If not, you should have known. How could I leave and let you come back to an empty study?” Hermione choked out through the weight of her unshed tears as she held his damaged body more tightly in her arms, “I couldn’t bear to let you handle this alone. You were right. I didn’t know how badly he was going to hurt you, but I’m still here. I won’t run away from you. Not now. I’m so sorry Severus. I’m sorry for so much; for the years you’ve had to go through this alone, for every time you’ve been tortured. If only my blasted potion was finished! You could have been spared this. I will make it work, Severus. We will make it work. But what can I do to help you now?” Hermione cut her ramblings short when she saw the disconcerting way the professor’s eyes were drifting shut and reopening. He wasn’t going to last much longer.
“Hermione, go find Madam Pomfrey. She knows what to do; you may help her heal me, if you wish. Then tell Albus what happened. Someone will have to instruct my classes. But, Hermione…why did you stay? I’ve been the cause of so many of your life’s anxieties. How could you possibly concern yourself with what happens to me?”
Hermione paused to think before answering him. “I don’t know Severus. I can’t begin to describe how I feel right now,” she reflected as the image of his battered body wrecked havoc on her senses. “I’ve never felt like this before, and I’ll admit that it scares me. I’ve never worried as much in my life as I did for you tonight, and I’ve certainly never seen anything this horrific. This goes so far beyond anything Harry, Ron, or I have ever experienced. All I’m sure of now is one thing.” Her final words were the last he heard before being claimed by dreamless sleep at last.
“Severus…I trust you.”