The Fae Within

Author's Note: there may be errors (both typographical and otherwise) in this chapter due to lack of time, lack of sleep, and lack of an outgoing plumbing system (septic is not working... *cry*). Hope you enjoy anyways, and thanks so much for the positive reviews that have been made; you're wonderful! :) And for the record, yes, I am Bowie obsessed. ;)

Chapter One.

Hermione sat quietly in the window seat, watching the rain stream down the glass in lazy tracks.

It had been six weeks since Harry had collapsed. Six weeks of unresponsive slumber, broken only by occasional eye movements and body twitches.

It had been bad enough that the entire Wizarding community was on high alert; the Death Eater attacks were occurring on a daily basis, with no warning as to whom would be the next target.

There had been the attack on St. Mungo’s only four hours after Harry had been admitted in his comatose state. They had been incredibly lucky to escape with their lives. Ron and Hermione had fled through the hospital basement, dragging Harry with them. It had been close… too close.

Each and every place the trio had attempted to hide since then had only ended in disaster and near misses… the Burrow was too obvious, as was the Granger home in Muggle Britain. Besides, Harry needed stability and specialized care.

It was finally decided the best place to hide would be the one that was most obvious, and best hidden.

Hogwart’s Room of Requirement.

After the attack, the school had sat empty, completely abandoned by everyone who had loved and respected Albus. Without him, the large castle no longer seemed to offer any sort of protection. Yet the thick stone walls still held so many secrets, and so much magic… there were rooms that hadn’t been opened in centuries, that had been forgotten completely. And the Room of Requirement… it could be whatever they needed.

Hermione continued to sit in the window seat and stare blankly into the Forbidden Forest below. She was tired… so tired. Tired of spending every day and every night praying that Harry would miraculously wake up, tired of trickling life-sustaining potions past his lips in an attempt to keep him from wasting away, tired of sitting and doing nothing as a war raged on in the world outside the room in which the three lived in their self-imposed prison. She glanced over at Ron, who was keeping himself busy playing with a charmed Muggle videogame, sighed, and resumed looking out the window.

Suddenly, movement below caught her eye.

She squinted, and through the murkiness of the day was able to make out the form of two barn owls; one light, one dark. She watched fascinated as the dark owl fluttered softly towards the ground and gracefully transformed into a certain snarky Potions Professor. Shocked, she continued to watch as the white barn owl attempted to land on his shoulder, which resulted the feathers flying as Snape beat the bird away from him. He was too far away to discern any particular facial expression, but Hermione instinctively knew that a very familiar scowl would be present on his face as she watched him stalk towards a doorway hidden from her window view above.

Then he was gone, and Hermione was shaken from her surprise. Staying silent, she cast a quick glance at Ron, who was far too involved with the video game to notice what she was doing, checked Harry, then quickly grabbed his invisibility cloak from his trunk.

Without a word, she snuck towards the door, and for the first time in a month, found herself outside of the room that had offered both protection and captivity.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Severus exhaled sharply as his feet made contact with solid ground. He would never get used to the sensation of transforming from owl to man, no matter how many times he did it. At least he was now able to make the transformation with grace, instead of hitting the earth with a resounding ‘thud’.

Of course, it didn’t help matters that Jareth attempted to perch atop his head. Jareth’s sense of humor was… odd, to say the least. And Severus did not appreciate his playfulness, quickly beating his owl-brother away and cursing loudly.

“Get away from me, you feather-brained son of a screwt!”

Severus swore he could almost hear the owl chuckle as it winged fluidly ahead of him, to where the hidden doorway was located. Pieces were starting to fall into place, with the exception of only one fly in the ointment, and all Severus now needed were a few choice ingredients from his potions stores at Hogwarts.

Approaching the solid stone wall of the castle, Severus reached out and placed his hand upon it. He mumbled a few words softly under his breath, and watched as the stones suddenly quivered, then became translucent. He stepped through, and found himself situated at the top of the dungeon passageway. In an instant, Jareth transformed beside him, and together the two descended into the pit of darkness, without aid of torch to guide their way.

For Severus, it was a matter of familiarity; this had been his home for two decades. Jareth, on the other hand, simply had no need for light; his eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness.

The door to his main potions stores was damaged, but had not been breached. Severus had many intricate wards in place, having increased his security ten-fold after discovering certain rare items missing a few years prior. Whoever had tried to break in had only been there briefly, likely moving on to looting easier rooms.

“I need to sort through the cupboard for the golden trefoil, the blistering bloodroot, and the trembling aspen berries,” Severus told Jareth. “It would be greatly appreciated if you would gather the large copper cauldron from the laboratory.”

“It would be greatly appreciated if you didn’t order me about, as you do your students, or your ‘house elves’, for that matter,” Jareth replied darkly, turning away sharply in a flurry of fabric.

“My apologies, Your Majesty,” Severus replied snidely, only to have a crystal orb shatter inches from his head a mere second later.

Tensions had certainly been high the last month. The headlines of the daily papers screamed of recent Death Eater attacks, the latest casualties, but that was far from the biggest news.

Harry Potter was missing.

Some speculated that Voldemort had succeeded in destroying his last remaining nemesis, now that Albus was dead. But Severus and Jareth knew otherwise, as they saw Harry almost every night.

The ghostly image of the sixteen year old boy was unnerving, to say the least, and it didn’t help that the spectre was projecting an infinite amount of rage. As physically harmless as the boy was, he did manage to cost the two men several nights sleep, and countless hours of research and planning. Definitely a fly in the ointment.

Severus muttered to himself as he heard the clanging of cauldrons coming from his lab. The two brothers were like oil and water, but Severus needed Jareth; needed him to take hold of his Fae heritage.

And what Jareth got out of the unlikely partnership? Severus had no clue.

He removed the wards from his cabinet, opened it, then ran this ringers down the smooth wooden interior until they made contact with a small latch. A small compartment popped open, and Severus’ fingers eagerly grasped a small vial.

Three tears from a Cerulean Flamebeak, one of the rarest dragons known to Wizard-kind, and almost impossible to collect tears from. The species was known to be so vicious that it was rare for its young to survive its first year.

Severus whispered a quick prayer of thanks as he tucked the vial into his pocket, took a step backward, and promptly made contact with something solid, something that gasped softly in surprise. He reached forth, his fingers grasping first at air, then the silky folds of the invisibility cloak. He yanked it roughly, then gave his own gasp of surprise at the figure now standing before him.

“Miss Granger,” he breathed, quickly regaining his composure. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it, and opened it again, struggling to find the words she so desperately needed to express herself. To Severus, she reminded him of a fish out of water.

“Cat got your tongue?” he purred mockingly, arching his eyebrow.

“N-no sir,” she stuttered, “I came to see you, to tell you… I know, sir, I know what happened… I know the truth.”

“Do you, now,” he replied coldly, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “So what lies have you heard that have led you to believe that you’d be safe in the presence of this old Death Eater?”

“You’re not old!” Hermione cried out, instantly wishing she could bite back her words. How very… brazen, to speak out of turn like that.

“Really,” Severus drawled, reaching out and grabbing her roughly by the wrist and pushing her against the dungeon wall. “But I’m still a Death Eater; you best remember that, as I am used to taking what I want, no matter what.” Severus’ dark eyes flashed menacingly, and he felt a surge of triumph as Hermione cowered before him.

He studied the seventeen year old witch as she stared up at in fright. Her long chestnut hair had lost its childhood bushiness, and now cascaded in soft curls which framed her heart-shaped face. Hermione’s amber eyes were wide, and her full lips quivered as she breathed with hitching gasps.

Severus leaned into her cowering figure, and inhaled deeply. She smelled of heather and lavender. He longed to bury his face in her hair, and just melt into her. Her lips, those sweet luscious lips, so kissable…

“Well, well… what do we have here? Severus, I insist you introduce me to this lovely young lady. She looks simply delectable.”

Severus groaned inwardly. Damn Jareth and his knack for showing up at the worst moments.