That Which Lurks in the Daylight

Author’s Note: Sorry for the long wait, my dears. However, enjoy the chapter! Also, I do respond to reviews, so any questions will be answered. And flames…well, my muse purchased a flame thrower yesterday.

So read up!

Disclaimer: As much as I wish to, I do not own the HP Universe. It is the fabulous brainchild of J.K Rowling, all rights belonging to her and her publishing company friends with their attack dog lawyers.

Also, cookies to the first ten reviewers from chapter one! And, cookies for the first 10 reviewers of chapter two!


That Which Lurks in the Daylight
Chapter Two: Like the Flashing of a Strobe Light


The screams assaulted his ears before the great doors swung open to admit him. They were like the loud, keening cries of a wounded animal more than anything else. The sounds pierced into the air of the cavernous room, drowning out all other possible noise. Approaching a curtained off area, he swept aside the sterile, white barrier and froze completely. In all of his years of duality, he had never seen what was before him. It was uncomfortable, bringing an irritating tingling into his dead soul—something, whatever it was, he did not want to feel.

I watched you change
into a fly
I looked away
You were on fire…

Hermione Granger was struggling to escape from the bed she was in. She thrashed from side to side, straining against the invisible ties that held her down. Fear radiated from her eyes and he felt it, like a tangible heat along his skin, even from the distance he was away from her. He continued to stare at her, watching as her body settled down; watching as the screams died from the space around them. A strange light flickered in her eyes and then a sultry laugh came forth; a sensual smile on her lips.

“You don’t have to be shy, Professor,” she said, her voice sliding around him, “I don’t bite much. Come closer, love, you know that you want to.” Her voice dropped down to a scratched whisper, “Touch me, Severus. I want to feel your hands on my young, nubile body.” She laughed again, her lashes closing down, hiding her eyes from him.

I watched a change in you
It\'s like you never had wings
Now you feel so alive
I watched you change…

“Miss Granger, as inviting as that sounds, I must decline.” Severus was unnerved, barely able to force back the shock of the situation at hand. The sensual voice that the girl spoke in was that of an experienced seductress. This was definitely not the Head Girl know-it-all. Moving slightly closer, he looked at her pale face and disheveled hair. Beads of sweat trickled along her brow and a salty path of tears had dried on her cheeks, her long lashes like shades hiding the gates to her soul. Her breathing had evened out as her body relaxed down into sleep. The same smile, the seductive one from before, was still there as evidence that all was not right. Turning around, he left the room intent on speaking with the mediwitch and the Headmaster. He inwardly shook his head, feeling the weight of another thing he did not need to deal with settling on his shoulders.

And yet, he knew that he would be forced to whether he wanted it or not.

The right to chose wasn’t real; rather it was just dust swirling in the blinding light of fate.

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He had followed her for days; his luscious mudblood was completely unaware of his presence. When she went out and came home, he was there. Either sleeping or awake, he was there. He saw her when she sunned herself on the grassy patch by the swimming pool—his fingers itched at the thought of the feel of her youthful skin. A few days before he had taken her, he slipped into her house and went up the stairs to her bedchamber. It was the dead of night and yet she was there, casting off the energies of life and fertility into the dark space around her bed. He stood there, watching as her chest rose and fell with each breath. The moon blanketed her with its pale glory, making her pristinely white night gown look like a ghostly mist surrounding her. She sighed and curled on her side, the already rumpled material rising up on her thighs.

She sighed again and he felt his trousers tighten, near to bursting the seams out.

Her innocence called to him, pulling him to her. It was a sweet feeling, something he could taste; it was absolutely lip-smacking.

And he wanted…

He wanted to fuck her.

Yes…to fuck her in every way imaginable.

In every single way that he could possibly imagine.

And then…he would possess her completely until she was his.

Possess her so completely that it would be easy to hurt her.

Ah, but he did not want to hurt her. No, he wanted to break her.

He watched her for a moment more, smiling when she turned on her side, unknowingly exposing more of her smooth thighs to him.

Yes… he would break her; break her until she was nothing.

He could hardly contain his excitement.


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Severus paced back and forth in front of the cluttered desk, his thoughts moving just as rapidly. There was something wrong with the girl, that much was evident. Her eyes, her voice and the energy around her all pointed towards the Dark Arts. The dark magic hung around her like a heavy cloak, dragging her down into oblivion. It was sucking her soul way, whatever it was, and corrupting her; changing her. His musings were interrupted by the weary sigh of the Headmaster.

“Severus, please have a seat. Your pacing has put a strain in my neck.” In the meantime, Albus waved his wand, conjuring a sleek, black comfy chair. Severus, completely unaware in his distraction, turned towards the desk only to have the chair scramble up and slam into the back of his legs, shift from side to side as he stumbled and then catch him when he toppled backwards. The chair, with its occupant now safely and reluctantly seated, moved a safe distance from the twinkling eyes of the older wizard. The usually stern Minerva McGonagall raised her tea cup to stifle a laugh. The school mediwitch tittered quietly from her seat next to the large desk.

A glare settling on his face, Severus crossed his arms and waited for the Headmaster to get on with his little speech.

Albus sighed. The situation was even more dismal than could be expected. Glancing to his left, he saw the worried look on Minerva’s face, the slight tightening around her eyes and mouth giving evidence of her concern. The mediwitch looked just as flustered, although she tried to hide it behind a calm professional mask. He shook his head, trying to clear it. At the sound of ruffling feathers, he turned to see his phoenix hovering over his perch. He sang out a few notes, hoping to calm his human, before drifting back to nestle down. Albus smiled at the small show of support before turning back to his expectant audience with another sigh.

“It seems that Miss Granger is in need of more help than we initially thought. Poppy, you said that she was screaming and thrashing around as if she was being physically hurt. Did she say anything at all when you attended to her?”

“Not at first, no,” the medical witch said with a frown. “She was quiet for about ten minutes as I was working on her, doing the standard exams. It was only when I went to straighten the sheets around her did she start in with the struggling. She began screaming to be released and said that she would ‘be good if I took the chains off.’” The woman broke down, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Albus, I have never seen anything like this. Miss Granger was bruised from her neck down to her ankles, with lashes on her back and torso. There were bite marks on her thighs and breasts—there were deep bruises on her hips and one of her legs was nearly broken. It was like the person broke the bones and then hastily put them back in place. It was so—” She covered her face, the sobs she tried to hold in escaping from behind her hands. Minerva got up and put her arms around the distraught woman, trying to calm her. She turned her eyes towards the others, her pain filled gaze revealing tears of her own.

Severus felt a monster of a headache building behind his eyes. It was that incessant pulling that occurs, starting distantly until you can hardly keep your eyes open. Bringing his fingers up to squeeze the bridge of his nose, he let out a frustrated sigh. “Miss Granger is teetering on the brink of collapse. She is facing an internal struggle and her actions only serve to cope with the horrors that she faced. I-I talked to her or rather she talked to me in a voice that was not her own. There was something in her eyes, a darkness that is not of her. It was very…unnerving.”

“What do you mean when you say that she talked to you?” Albus leaned forward in his seat, trying to understand what was being said. A frown settled on his normally peaceful face. “How was she talking to you?”

“She was very suggestive in her mannerisms, speaking to me like a courtesan would to a wealthy client. She…,” he shook his head, “that was not her. Oh, it was Miss Granger in a physical sense, but that person speaking was not her.”

Minerva gasped. “Are you saying that she might have broken away from herself to cope with her situation?”

“Yes. Miss Granger, for all intents and purposes, has become someone else. It also doesn’t help that the dark magic surrounds her like a heavy fog. It’s drowning her.”

This time Albus was the one to get a headache. “This so-called fog surrounding her is what must have caused Fawkes to become so agitated at the Welcoming Feast. He had been acting unusually all day, like something was causing him alarm. He was flapping his wings as if he was going to take flight at any moment. He never does that, as he is an uncommonly calm fellow for his species. In any event, he knew that something was wrong and yet he seemed to relax as the feast went on.”

“Do you think that he knew that Miss Granger was going to arrive during the feast?” Minerva asked, confusion settling on her face.

“Of that I am unsure because there is only so much that I can gather from his tone when he sings. “ Dumbledore stroked his beard, his long index finger tapping against his chin as his mind whirled.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Severus spoke, “Whatever the case may be, we need to act quickly if she is to be saved.”

“Yes,” Poppy started, “we need to act quickly. I have already placed her in the private quarters of the infirmary, specifically due to the limited access the area allows. I have removed all possible items that she could use to harm herself, and, in actuality, the room is set to immediately banish anything that could cause her harm.”

Severus sucked in his breath, unmasked shock displaying on his features, “You’ve put her into a padded room, then? She needs more protection than a few banishing charms and sterile walls! Do you think she will get well in such a place as that? She’ll go mad in an hour!” His hands had tightened on the rests of his chair, knuckles showing the white strain of barely suppressed fury.

“Severus, I know that you are frustrated, as we all are, but this is not helping Miss Granger’s predicament! I’m doing the best I can do to help her! I’ve never seen anything like this in all my years as a mediwitch—at least understand that I am trying!” Poppy fired back at the angry Potions Master.

“Severus, please, arguing amongst ourselves will not make this any less than what it is,” Albus said forcefully. His tone of voice was so unlike the usual jovial tone; instead, his voice took on a stern, commanding sound that quieted the room immediately. “We must focus on making sure that Miss Granger recovers completely in a reasonable and timely matter. We—”

Just when he was about to continue, one of the many portraits along the walls came alive. Phineas Nigellus had jumped into his portrait, after having left it vacant for the better part of two years. He had a frantic look on his face, like he had been jumping rather quickly from painting to painting.

“Albus, you must come quickly!” He panted out his breaths, leaning against the side of the portrait frame. “The girl has awoken and she is in bad shape!”

“Phineas, how did you learn of this?” Minerva asked, concern and fear covering every inch of her face.

“It is of no consequence as I only heard of it in passing from another who was told by the mediwitch in the infirmary portrait.” He waved his hands in exasperation. “You must come quickly! There is something wrong with her!”

The small group froze, their eyes connecting with each other for a moment before they speed into action moving quickly to the Hospital Wing.

A moment later, Fawkes woke from his nap and left in a brilliant swirl of flames.



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“Stupefy!”

That was all that she could remember, the voice echoing over and over in her head. She didn’t understand or comprehend the reasoning behind the attack. She couldn’t even discern the voice she heard when the spell was cast. What Hermione Granger could remember was the bits of memory that circled her distorted mind. One moment she was walking to the market, the next a man was leaning over her doing awful things. Then, she would awaken, only to be suffering from an intense pain shooting up and down the nerve of her body as she walked into the Great Hall.

It was all so unsettling. The memories kept moving, flickering and flashing the same way that a strobe light does in a muggle dance club.

Oh, so that’s what she was doing. She was dancing: flashing from one place to the next; from one scene to the next just like the rest of the mindless club drones. The pain, the emotions, and the confusion: all of it was just part of the dance.

“Stupefy!”

She laughed, the rustiness of her unused voice echoing in the room. She shook her head and the memories flashed again, whirling and whirling around to the beat of the man’s voice.

She wanted it to stop.

But, what would happen when it did? Who would be there? Even more, who would want to? Would she have to keep dancing?

Oh, she was getting tired and the lights were dying down. If she could just rest for a little bit…

“Stupefy!”

The lights picked up again, faster than before, as if they knew that she was trying to leave the dance. Only this time, she heard the chains clinking. The chains that he had so lovingly place on her body. She looked up and could see him manipulating the chains like a puppet master.

No wonder she couldn’t stop dancing, he was there pulling the strings, taking control with a smile.

It was a wonder that she even tried to stop, for a puppet master only stops when the show is over.

And as long as she kept dancing, she could still be apart of the show.

“Stupefy!”


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“I’ll be good if you take the chains off! Please, take them off!”

The flustered professors and mediwitch rushed into the closed off area. They were greeted with the sight of Hermione thrashing about in the bed, screaming at the top of her lungs to be released. Immediately, Poppy began to cast calming spells, but to no avail. Albus and Minerva tried a few of their own with the same results. The spells seemed to just bounce right off of the struggling girl, not even reducing her movements in the slightest. As they were going to start another round, Fawkes appeared in his usual swirl of flames. The bird launched towards the girl, settling on her pillows, and folded his wings around the crown of her head. Beginning softly at first, he sang a haunting chain of notes, a melody, while he cried his healing tears onto her forehead.

Severus stood back, watching the mayhem that surrounded the girl. She had stopped screaming, her body once again settling down into relaxation. Fawkes continued to sing, dripping his tears as he comforted her. When he finished his song, he hopped down to rest his head on the girl’s chest, as if he was checking the progress of his efforts.

“What is he doing, Albus?” Poppy asked in confusion.

“Fawkes is doing what he does best,” he said mysteriously. “Let’s watch and see if he’ll get farther with his ways than we did with our wands.”

Fawkes continued to rest his head on Hermione’s chest, listening as her breathing slowed to a normal pace. The phoenix sang one more strain of notes and raised his head to look at each of the adults solemnly.

“What is he doing now?”

Just then, Hermione took in a huge gasping breath. Her body rose up, curling off of the pallet as she sucked in the life giving air. Her hands curled into the vivid plumage of the fire bird. She shook her head and her eyelids fluttered before opening.

Vision coming into focus, Hermione glanced around, noticing the people standing in the room. The Madam Pomfrey caught her attention first, her anxious expression off-putting from the usual professional calm she always portrayed. The Headmaster and her Head of House were both there, watching from a safe distance. Turning to the left, she saw Professor Snape standing somewhat in the shadows of the room, but closer than the other three. Frowning, she looked at him and wondered why he was there. Fawkes shifted on the mattress, raising his head to look at her curiously. He left out a soft chirp before putting his head down on her chest. This was the closest that Hermione had ever been to the famous bird and she took the time to examine his fiery feathers and warm body.

“Miss Granger,” Professor Dumbledore began in a soft voice, “do you know where you are?”

“I hope that I’m at Hogwarts, sir.” She let out a shuddering breath, before speaking again. “I- I hope that I’m at Hogwarts because I don’t want to wake up and have this all be a dream. Please tell me that it’s real,” she pleaded.

“It’s not a dream, Miss Granger.” Professor Snape said from the shadows of the room. “You’re in the infirmary, completely safe from the situation you escaped from.”

“Miss Granger, what do you remember, if anything?” Dumbledore queried quietly.

“I don’t know, sir. I don’t know what happened to me.” A look of fear came over her features. “I just can’t remember, sir. Why can’t I remember?”

“We’re going to do our best to find out,” the elder wizard said softly.

From the shadows of the room, Severus Snape snorted and shook his head. If he was suffering the way Miss Granger was, he wouldn’t want to remember either.

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Author’s Note: I’m terribly sorry for the long wait on this chapter. Things got in the way and then my muse, who’s name is Jade, decided that she didn’t want to do anything creative for a week. She gets lazy, you know.

In any event, reviews, more of them, would be lovely. How am I supposed to know what you think about my story if you don’t review, hmm? Feed the muse!

And for anyone who noticed, the two verses of song lyrics came from the song, “Change (in the House of Flies)” by the Deftones. It can be found on their “White Pony” album which was released in 2001.