Wandering

All recognizable characters are the brilliant work of JK Rowling. Thank you to Charlotte, my new and wonderful beta reader. Please heed the warnings listed for this fiction.

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“Professor… Professor, you have to wake now,” Hermione whispered quietly to him in the dark. His breathing was shallow and sharp. Her cloak never succeeded in warming him beyond trembling. He drew a louder breath in response to her call and stirred slowly.

“The sun will rise soon, we have to leave now,” she whispered again, gently trying to pull him to a sitting position. Severus groaned and pinched his eyes closed against the pain, though he did rise with her. She managed to pull the pallid man to his feet, watching his dim outline sway. He put his palm against the rough wall to steady himself and watched her turn and head for the door. Slowly his mind began to function properly. How had she arrived here? How did she still have a wand? And why was she certain they would escape?

He heard the sure click of the lock and a second later felt her small hand close warm and secure around his.

“Can you walk? Lean on me.”

She did not illuminate her wand, but the rising sun allowed enough light to make out the limits of the walls. As quietly as possible, they maneuvered down the earthy corridors in the opposite direction than Severus was always dragged. They bumped into the corners when his step faltered and Hermione was unable to support his full weight. He was surprised at her strength; how had she grown from that spindly, awkward girl, to this taller, stronger woman beside him?

He focused again on her hand and watched her wand wave delicately at what looked like a solid wall. Slowly a door began to glow with a pale green light, reminiscent of the Dark Lord’s magic, before he felt her tense and put her foot through it. They crashed to the floor as the door swung open and crashed against the outer wall. Hermione scrambled to her feet and grabbed Severus by his shoulders, pulling him with all her might to his feet.

“STUPEFY!”

Light erupted down the corridor, rushing toward Hermione and Severus with blinding speed. “PROTEGO!” Hermione screamed, defiantly shoving Severus behind her and out the door, where he fell in a mangled heap on the grass. Death Eaters were pouring into the corridor and Hermione was having a hard time fending them off.

Severus blinked a few times, trying to push the haze of unconsciousness away from him, and reached out a shaking hand. Hermione cried out as his fingers wrapped around her ankle before her mind registered that it was him. She deflected a jinx and took a small step backward out of the door, never breaking contact with him, before she quickly reached down and grabbed his wrist. A cry of anger erupted in the corridor as the Death Eaters watched the woman Apparate with their prize.

Hermione hit the ground hard, rolling to a stop at the base of a large oak tree and crunching countless leaves and twigs beneath her. She groaned and shook her head as she got to all fours. She waited until her head ceased its spinning before sitting back on her heels and taking in her surroundings. They had made it to the forest. She had wandered here for weeks, lost and seeking refuge. Severus lay a few feet from her, his thin body still trembling and her traveling cloak strewn to his side, no longer covering the tattered garment the Death Eaters left him. His back was now exposed in pale sunlight, and Hermione’s stomach flipped.

Countless lacerations crossed the pale flesh and wept. Dirt, leaves, and bits of clothing stuck to the wounds and deep bruising surrounded many of the lines. She crawled to him and reached a hand toward his shoulder, hesitating with it in the air for a moment before pulling her resolve and resting it lightly on him.

“Professor?”

She pulled her traveling cloak around to his back, enabling her to roll him over without pressing his wounds into the forest floor.

He brought his arm over his eyes as his back met the ground and weakly waved her away. She gave him a minute as she took his front. Most of her healing spells a few hours before had worked well, leaving only slight traces of bruising and thin, pink lines where the gashes had been. She silently congratulated herself; she was no Healer, after all. He suddenly jerked beneath her and erupted into such violent coughing that she feared he might choke. She quickly slid a hand under his shoulders and hoisted him up, bringing herself to a kneeling position beside him. The curtain of black hair hid his face, but her blood ran cold as she caught sight of the blood dripping off his chin and rolling down his chest.

Instinct won out over common sense, and she ran her palm over his forehead, pulling the hair out of his face and eyes as he continued to convulse with the powerful coughing. His skin was hot and clammy and she did not think it would be possible for him to grow any paler. Finally, the coughing subsided and she felt him slump back against her arm, spent and weary.

She again used her sleeve to remove the blood from his chin. His eyes fluttered and he licked his lips slowly, as though it took all his strength just to do so.

“Miss… Granger—” So they were back to formal titles again. “Are you… familiar… with the… Horehound … p—” His speech was interrupted by another fit of coughing. She sat with him, waiting out the spell before he could speak again.

“The Horehound plant… can you procure one?” he asked. Hermione closed her eyes and ran through her mind, looking for the image of the plant. After a second, she opened them and nodded. Hermione looked around and spotted a rather large rock lying a few feet from them. Squaring her shoulders, she pointed her wand at it and concentrated hard, speaking the incantation that charmed it to a cushion he could rest on. After summoning the newly transfigured cushion, she tucked it behind his head. She worried her bottom lip in thought before reaching a decision. Lightly, she tapped him on the head with the tip of her wand. He shivered as the cool spell slid down him like egg and shadowed him into the forest floor. The Disillusionment Charm allowed him to remain hidden as she went in search of the plant.

It took a moment for Severus to realize that she had left at all. Indeed, had she not arrived in the night, today would have been his last. His mind was far too clouded to decide if this was a fortunate turn of events or not. At least if he did finally close his eyes, never to open them again, it would be in the company of someone who at least pretended to give a damn. The wounds on his back seared and he returned his arm over his eyes, shielding them against the light he had been absent from for such a long time.

His mind cursed him, playing between his current situation and pulling him back to the wretched dungeons of the Dark Lord’s favorite hovel. Dark figures loomed over him and he fought for control of his mind, desperately trying to remember that it was only a memory. One of the figures delivered a blow to his gut and he felt it. Panic set in as he felt himself levitated off the ground and spun around so that his back was towards his assailants. The sound of a whip cracking through the air met his ears, and his blood ran cold. Not again. Not this. A cold sweat formed at his brow and his back arched as the first sting of the whip met the flesh of his back.

He desperately tried to shut off his mind; he was subjected to far worse torment than this before. He focused inward and clamped his lips together as another blinding flash of pain licked across his back. Laughter rang out in the crowd behind him as the whip met his flesh again and again. His stomach turned over as he felt hot lines of blood roll down his legs.

“Hold on there! Let’s not spoil all our fun just yet,” someone called out to the rest. The cracking of the whip halted and Severus clung to consciousness. His eyes would not focus properly anymore as he was dropped to the floor. Rough hands grabbed him and lifted him again, this time smashing him against a stone slab meant for a table. He raised his hands in defense, trying to move the blurred shaped away from him. Someone grabbed his wrists and yanked them hard above his head, while someone else pulled at his robe from below.

Anger and disgust rose in his chest and he yelled out, “NO!” sending his assailants flying with uncontrolled magic. The room swam and panic seized his chest as a binding spell encompassed his limbs.

Cool air met intimate flesh and his mind reeled. He was shoved from his back to his stomach where the rough stone ground against his cheek. A voice rose out of the fog surrounding him, warm and familiar, and it gave him a flicker of hope.

He opened his mouth against the cold slate, “Brother,” he whispered, “I saved your son all those years ago, surely you could grant me a swift death in repayment?” He was answered with a snicker and a soft, cool hand running the length of his cheek, followed by a hard slap that opened his lip.

Lucius brought his lips next to Severus’s ear and whispered, “I do not spare those who betray my Lord, brother, but I can see to it that you are well… spent… before your final breath.”

Severus shuddered as Lucius ran cool fingers over his back and felt a horrible pressure at his entrance. Lucius grabbed his hair and yanked it back violently, extending Severus’s neck to the ceiling as he thrust in with blinding force, plowing his way through the unyielding flesh. Severus screamed out and thrashed his hands wildly.

Hermione was in a near panic, she could not find a reason for his screams, nor did she know how to help him. She kneeled beside him, plant in hand, and called his name. He did not respond to her, as he looked wildly around, his breaths shallow and quick. the sheen of sweat across his brow.

It must be the fever, she thought to herself. She quickly set to crushing the plant against a stone, intent on pouring the powder into a hipflask. She jumped when he screamed again; birds in the trees took flight and the horrible sound echoed in the quiet wood. She poured the powdered Horehound into the flask with trembling hands and quickly brought it to him. His arms were wildly flailing, and she had to set down the flask to grab them.

“Professor! Professor Snape!” she called loudly, desperately trying to calm him. His breath hitched and her heart skipped a beat as a single tear slid down his cheek. His mouth moved in silent words and he shook his head side to side.

Lucius tore mercilessly into Severus again and again, grating his cheek against the stone. Severus tried to focus on the blood in his mouth; he recited the uses of dragon’s blood silently, trying to block the unbelievable pain between his legs. His eyes opened slightly and he wished they had not. Many of his other ‘brothers’ stood watching the scene, exposed and rubbing themselves, jeering Lucius on. He felt Lucius slow behind him and tense before the sickening pulse of his member told Severus it was over. It was more then he could stand as Lucius withdrew, spilling blood and fluid in thick wads down his leg. His stomach lurched and emptied over the stone table, bringing on laughter and cheering as another Death Eater positioned behind him.

Hermione grabbed Severus and pulled him off his back and to the side just in time for his stomach to heave. He had not been fed recently enough for anything other then water and acid to find its way out of him. His trembling increased and his senseless mumbling continued.

“Severus!” she called again, whisking the mess away with a flick of her wand. His head rolled and his eyes fluttered shut. She cradled his head in the crook of her arm and grabbed the flask, determined to get the medicine down. His lips parted as his head tipped back and she poured the mixture in slowly, speaking to him calmly so that he would not panic.

Severus sputtered as something cool ran down his throat and he sat up, amazed that his bonds no longer held him. The sun was warm on his face and the smells of a forest greeted his senses.

“You’re all right. It’s all right. It’s Horehound, that’s all. You’re all right.” Hermione’s soft, melodic tones reached him as he swallowed the mixture and sank back into the cushion she had transfigured for him. A moment later his lungs seemed lighter and sleep loomed over him like a heavy blanket, warm and inviting, and he closed his eyes after looking on her worried face.

Hermione thanked the heavens for the clear day and warm sun. The mixture would help him and hopefully break his fever. They would find a shelter before nightfall and perhaps she would be fortunate enough to find a wizarding owl and send a message to Harry, if he was still alive. How long had it been since the battle that scattered the Order? She shook her head and pushed the rising memories away, unwilling to look at them again. She leaned against a tree beside Severus and kept watch while he slept, there would be much to discuss when he woke.