To Fear Love Is To Fear Life…

Chapter 2

Hermione sat up in bed, screaming. Sweat dripped down her face, her hair soaked, and she gasped for breath. The nurse came running into her room.

“Another bad dream, Miss Granger?” Hermione nodded. “I wish you would allow us to give you something to help you relax. Your mind needs to rest too. A simple dreamless sleep potion would do the trick.” The nurse poured a glass of water and handed to Hermione, who drank it slowly.

“I just need to clear out those memories, not avoid them,” she said in between swallows. She looked up at the clock on the wall – four in the morning.

The nightmares had been a ritual, occurring every time she slept. She was fortunate if she could sleep a full two hours before her mind entered the dream stage and the nightmares began. She would awake in broad daylight and be just as scared as if it were the middle of the night.

Hermione reached for her cane and gingerly got out of bed. The left side of her body had some minor paralysis, which is still healing so for the time being she needed a cane to assist her. Her left arm was strong but she had a difficult time with her fine motor skills. Her left leg was just the opposite. She could control the movement, but needed the cane helped her move around.

Taking her wand, she summoned her clothes into the bathroom. She was grateful Hagrid found her wand in the forest. He had been to visit her several times. She went into the bathroom to prepare a bath. It was of no concern how early or late it was, she needed to feel clean. She needed to wash herself, something she had been doing several times a day. And no matter how long she sat in the bathtub or stood under the shower, she could not get his smell off of her.

She had been in the bath for nearly an hour while scrubbing her body. Giving up, she closed her eyes, praying that her thoughts would take her elsewhere. After some time, her mind would finally drift to more pleasant memories. It was her own giggle that startled her.

“Good memory, dear?” asked a wheezy voice. The mirror above the sink was enchanted. It was a kind, caring voice in which Hermione welcomed. It didn’t ask too many questions, but it did an admirable job of listening.

“I was just remembering a time in my third year at Hogwarts. Harry, Ron, and I were trying to discover the truth and in the process I … assisted them in…attacking a professor.” Hermione blushed at her disclosure.

“A professor? This does not seem like you.”

“No, it is not,” she snapped and the quickly regretted her tone. “I’m sorry. No, it is not like me to attack a professor, but due to the particular circumstances and the level of tension we were all experiencing, I…”

“…allowed your emotions to take control,” finished the mirror. Hermione nodded.

“Yes. I regretted my actions the second he hit the wall. He could have been seriously hurt with all three of us cursing him, but he was only unconscious for a while.”

“May I ask who the professor was?”

Hermione smiled and let out another giggle. “Professor Snape.”

“Professor Snape? Oh dear.”

“Oh dear is right. I felt guilty…at the time my guilt was due to disrespecting a professor, but now it is because of the position he holds with the…” she stopped speaking.

“Privileged information, dear?”

“Yes. I am sorry,” Hermione apologized.

“Don’t worry, dear. As I told you before, I have a Hush-hush enchantment on me. I cannot repeat the information you tell me, but I do understand if you prefer not to share.” Hermione nodded. She was grateful the mirror understood.

Hermione closed her eyes and remembered the rest of the events of that evening. Ron was still in the infirmary and Harry was staying by his side. She decided to make amends for her previous actions.

She made her way down the corridor in the dungeons that led to Snape’s classroom. She heard glass being shattered along with other objects slamming against the walls causing her to stop in her tracks. She needed to apologize to him. And even though the apology could wait, she couldn’t.

Mustering all courage, she knocked on his door. No answer. She raised her fist to knock again when an object shattered against the door, startling her. Jumping back, she decided her apology could wait and turned to leave, but then the door opened.

“What the hell do you want?” he said in a raised voice.

With her eyes were wide with fear, Hermione turned to face him. She should have run. She should have just run. “Um…sir…I just want to say that I am…”

His voice was dangerously low. “That you are what, Miss Granger? Sorry for allowing a killer to go free?” His words came very slow and he moved toward her. She stepped backward for every step he took toward her. “You have no idea what you should be sorry for.” Next thing Hermione knew is that she was pressed against the stone wall in the corridor. His eyes bore into hers. They were so cold and dark, full of hate and anger when suddenly they softened.

Without either saying a word, they just stared at each other. Next thing she knew, she had turned and left.

It was two years later when she realized that he had used Legilimency on her. The particular memory he looked at was her reaction when he was unconscious. She could only assume he thought her, Harry, and Ron had used the situation to their advantage to scoff at him, but it was after he saw her initial reaction of the attack that the intensity in his eyes softened. He understood her genuine remorse.

Hermione got out of the tub. While she dried off, she wondered if he had ever discovered the supplies she stole in her second year or if he knew she was the one who set him on fire in her first year. Something to dwell on for another day, for now the healers were releasing her and sending her home.

Since she decided to stay with her parents, Mad-eye Moody told her he would personally place all the wards she would need for her and her parents’ protection. Until she was completely healed, the Order told her not to draw attention to herself and she willing complied. It was time to let herself heal.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Holding onto Remus Lupin’s arm and with her cane in her other hand, Hermione walked into her first meeting for the Order since her attack. She was warmly greeted by everyone, especially Tonks. Tonks had been a godsend to her while she was at her parents’ house. Hermione had little to do, so Tonks’ regular visits brought the bit of humor Hermione needed to get through the days. Tonks gave Remus a kiss on the lips and then took his other arm and the three of them found their seats.

As the meeting began, Hermione realized a crucial member had not shown. She leaned over and whispered to Remus and Tonks, “Where is Professor Snape?” Hermione still could not remove the title of professor. They were caught off guard by her question.

“Um, Hermione…” Remus didn’t quite know how to tell her. “Severus has not been seen since the night of your attack.”

“What?” she gasped. It had been nearly two months since her attack and no one bothered telling her. She knew her friends were protecting her from Order business while she healed, but she insisted that they keep her informed of crucial matters.

As the meeting came to an end, Remus explained further. “When Severus heard that you had been attacked, he left for what Minerva assumes to be revenge.” Hermione was taken a back by this news. ‘Had he really gone to seek revenge for my attack?’ She couldn’t fathom Snape doing this for anyone, yet…she could. ‘And now he is missing.’ Her angry took over.

“And no one has seen him since?” she said in a raised voice. The sudden disruption caused members to look her way. “Has anyone tried looking for him?” She looked at the others. “Does anyone of you realize what Professor Snape has accomplished for our cause?” There were a few raised eyebrows and a bit of whispering. “And yet no one is looking for him?”

“Hermione,” said Harry, “We have looked for him, but our resources are limited. He was our eyes and ears…”

“Is,” she interrupted, “he is our eyes and ears. Or are you holding back that information too?”

“Is,” he corrected. “Snape has disappeared but we do not think he is dead. The few wards left on his private belongings at Hogwarts are still intact and as long as they are, there is some hope.”

“So until then you all are just going on, life as normal?” she snapped.

“Hermione, we are doing everything we can,” said Tonks, “Honest. If we are nearing a final battle, then there is a chance that Severus cannot reach us due to the role he is portraying.”

Taking her cane, Hermione stood up and limped out of the room. She had to remove herself from the situation before she hexed someone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione thought long and hard and she did not accept that the Order was doing everything they could, so she took it upon herself to do a bit of investigation on her own. She was at Hogwarts and with Minerva’s approval, she intended to search through Professor Snape’s belongings that he had left behind in his dramatic exit well over a year ago.

“Remember, Severus’ wards are still up, so we will not have access to everything,” Minerva reminding her and then mumbled, “He was always better at setting wards than I.” The two women walked silently down the hall, neither knowing what to say. Minerva had been Severus’ colleague for nearly twenty years and the two had built a strong, trusting, professional relationship, so she felt guilty when Severus was cleared on all charges by the Order because she was a strong supporter in the manhunt set out to bring him to justice for killing Albus. Now Minerva vowed she would never doubt Severus again.

They entered his private quarters that were separate from the Potions’ classroom or the D.A.D.A. classroom.

“Here are his books, journals, personal belongings…I have been through them all, but I do not believe they are genuine.” Hermione looked at her questioningly. “I think they are a fake…only a cover for where the real ones are.” She pointed to a door. “I assume the real ones are in there.”

Drawing her wand, Hermione walked toward the door to attempt to bring down the wards.

“It will never work, Hermione. Even Mad-eye Moody tried, but…” she stopped in mid-sentence as the door unlatched and slowly swung open. Hermione quickly stepped back and the door closed.

“Oh my God,” whispered Hermione, “Is he dead?”

“No, it wouldn’t just unlatch like that. I think it is something else, but let me make sure.” Minerva stepped toward the door and hesitantly reached to open it. Suddenly she let out a scream and was thrown across the room into the opposite wall.

“Damn him,” she mumbled.

“What?” asked Hermione, who limped over to her to help her up.

“He’s still alive. But I do believe I know why the door opened for you.” She took the hand Hermione offered and got to her feet. “The Mark of Ownership.”

“What?” asked Hermione.

“The Mark of Ownership,” repeated Minerva, who was straightening out her robes. “You have the Mark of Ownership.” Hermione’s eyebrows creased as she deliberated Minerva’s statement and then realization struck.

“I have the Mark of Ownership?” she asked. Minerva nodded. Hermione walked back to the door and once again the door unlatched and slowly opened. She walked a few feet into the room and then back out. “And this mark was given to my by Professor Snape?” Again Minerva nodded. “And precisely where is this mark?”

Minerva cleared her throat. “On your backside,” she said. Hermione reached around to her back. “Lower,” said Minerva nervously. Hermione moved her hand down a bit. “Lower.” Her hand moved lower. “Lower,” she whispered. Hermione’s hand was just below her buttocks and Minerva nodded.

Hermione’s eye widened. “And how would you know this?” she asked in an exasperated voice.

“During your initial examination after your attack, Poppy discovered the mark. It was evident that Severus gave it to you…and by your reaction you didn’t know about it.”

“Of course not!” Hermione squeaked and then cleared her throat. “Of course I didn’t know about that. The Mark of Ownership is Dark Magic and I refuse to participate in it.” Hermione lifted her robes and tired to get a glimpse of the mark.”

“It’s concealed,” said Minerva. “The mark is only evident when the marked property is being…violated.” Hermione put her robes down. “The mark was fading when Poppy discovered it, but it was apparent who you belong to.”

Hermione looked at the open door and then at Minerva. “So I now belong to Professor Snape?” Minerva nodded. “When? When did he put the mark on me? I am not his property! I don’t belong to anyone. I…” Minerva held her hand up to calm her down.

“Hermione, has Severus ever treated you like property?”

“Well…no – never.”

“Then I am assuming he put the mark on you for your protection.” Hermione nodded in agreement. It was true. Snape had never treated her like a piece of property. In fact it was during the past two years that Severus had shown her nothing but respect.

“I think I am going to look around his room and see if I can find anything that will lead us to him,” said Hermione.

“I will be in my office if you need me.” Minerva gave her a grateful smile and then left.

Hermione entered Snape’s private rooms. It was dark, dingy, and musty, making it clear that not even the house elves were allowed in here to clean.

“Lumos,” she whispered. Instead of her wand lighting up, the various candles in the room did. She saw several bookshelves filled with books bound in brown and black leather. Stepping closer to read the titles, she noted that most of them she had never heard of and there was quite a few she assumed would never be found in the Hogwarts’ library due to their questionable titles. On the other end of the small room was a bed with a pillow and a worn, wool blanket. There was a tattered, leather covered lounger near the fire place and a small bookshelf with journals.

‘Too obvious,’ she thought, knowing the pile of journals wouldn’t provide any clues. She sat on the bed, trying to determine where to look. “Wait,” she whispered. Her eyes scanned the small room again. “There is no desk. If there is no desk then that means he must lay right here and write…” She reached in between the mattress and the box spring and pulled out a worn journal. “There you are.”

A smile took over her expression. ‘That must be the Muggle in you, my dear professor,’ referring to his hiding place. Hermione lay down on the bed and opened the journal. It was thin, containing twenty pages at the most, but when she opened it, she discovered the journal was divided into sections. Opening the first section, the pages multiplied into a year’s worth of writing. It dated clear back to his first year of teaching and she made metal notes on particular entries…


Albus has placed me in his protection by assigning me the Potions Master position here at Hogwarts. I implored him to assign me the Defense Against the Darks Arts position, but he said that would occur in due time. He them mumbled something about the position being cursed and needing me here for more than just one year…it is only a matter of time before the Dark Lord acts on the information I gave him…


…I hate teaching…


…Peter Pettigrew has received the Dark Mark – he has stated his reasons for joining the Dark Lord, but his thoughts display only fear and his fear is going to get him killed. What would his friends say if they knew? Perhaps Potter will be next? And then Black? I will kill them before accepting them in the circle of Death Eaters…


It is unconfirmed that the Dark Lord has been killed. Lily is dead. She was not supposed to die. It was part of the pact. I have, again, failed. Along with her, James was killed, but their son survived…

Albus has assigned me to find any proof that the Dark Lord is still alive. From what I can tell, he is not completely dead, but as for how alive is he? I don’t know…

I don’t understand Albus, but he is keeping me out of Azkaban and for this I am grateful
A new year has come, but nothing has changed. One master is dead and the other has taken over. I am clearly at the beck and call of Albus Dumbledore. I do agree with him that the Dark Lord shall return, but until then, Albus is my master…when will I have no master? When both are dead or when I am dead? How much time do I have before I am serving two?

Harry Potter is among the first years. He was sorted into Gryffindor, as expected. He looks just like James, poor bastard, but he has Lily’s eyes…she always had them most enchanting eyes…

…He shall pay for the sins of the father…

The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is a stuttering moron. He looks ridiculous in that turban. The only defense he knows is fighting vampires and even then I believe him only capable of stuttering them to death…

…the sins of the father, yet I am the one paying back a wizard’s debt. Next time Potter will not be so lucky. Quirrell will be dealt with in due time…if Granger ever comes near me again, I will hex that witch into the vanishing closet. She is fortunate Albus interfered, as he always does. I would have expelled her for setting my robes on fire…

Hermione blushed. “Well, that answers that.” She continued reading his journal, word for word, hoping to discover something that would lead to his whereabouts – a secret place he would find refuge at or a trusted ally, anything. She came across his entry on the Yule Ball and was stunned that he had written about such minute details of the event – how she wore her hair, the sequins on her dress robes, the way she held Viktor’s arm – it was as if… “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said aloud.

The Dark Lord has returned. The realization did not occur to me until tonight when I had to beg for forgiveness and endure several rounds of the Cruciatus. I had to prove my loyalties were with him and not Albus. I reached a point where I begged for death and the bastard denied me of it. I knew one day he would return – I just wished this day did not occur in my life time…now I have two masters to serve.

…Upon my return to my rooms I find Granger waiting for me. If I had the strength to raise my wand, I would have blasted her out of here, but instead I collapsed. For her to have witnessed my vulnerability is worse than the Dark Lord’s punishments. The next thing I knew I was laying on the floor with my head in her lap. She was dipping a cloth in a healing potion and squeezing the drops into my mouth. The effects were immediate and I was grateful and I should have thanked her…instead I snapped at her for being here. Never would I show her that I was appreciative of her actions. She said she had important information about the Dark Lord – how dare she speak his name…she wanted me to know that according to Potter, the Dark Lord is going to kill me for betraying him…not this time, Miss Granger. I am not that lucky.

Getting her to leave was like getting Albus to leave me alone – each have their own agendas. She asked too many questions, but the know-it-all was smart enough to not to ask about my business with the Dark Lord. No, instead she stayed and coddled over me like I was some pathetic animal or pet project…stroking my face, pushing my hair out of my face… and then she left…I am sure her departure had something to do with my gift for belittling her…nonetheless, it worked…why did it feel to so good to be cared for?


…I detest the House of Black, yet that is where I am required to meet. The only gratification is reminding Black how worthless he is…


…I can see into their thoughts. I know what they think of me and what they say behind my back… “But can we trust Snape?” I suppose it is an honest question – one that I ask myself…

…Hermione Granger – a thorn in my side, the cause of my headaches, the very reason I detest teaching – she is…I believe she is my only true ally. I have overheard her several times defending my position with the Order to Potter and Weasley and then after tonight’s meeting she showed a side of her I didn’t think she was capable of, but then again she reminds me of a woman scorned, just as she did the night Weasley tried asking her to the Yule Dance because she was the only woman left…Doge and Jones challenged my loyalties and before I could even sneer at either of them, Granger verbally attacked them. I have no doubt if Albus had not stepped in, she would have drawn her wand. Why would she do such a thing? She knows full well that I can defend myself…but to have someone show me that much support did give me a sense of hope.

Hermione recalled that night and how furious she had been at Doge and Jones for challenging him. In addition to it being disrespectful, she felt as if something dear to her had been violated and she was not going to stand by and allow this. On that night she did try to draw her wand, but she was incapable of moving her hand. She had no doubt Albus had something to do with it. After witnessing Snape’s injuries from enduring a meeting with Voldemort, she had no doubt where his loyalties were.

…again I was summoned, but this time it was during a meeting with the Order. The fear in their eyes was evident, but was it due to the Dark Lord being so near or that I serve him too? Without a word or a sideways glance, I left…but not before I found myself being embraced by Granger. “Please, sir, please be careful,” she pleaded. Was she truly pleading for my survival? I do believe she was…I don’t know why I did it. I don’t know why I returned her embrace. I don’t know why I whispered that I would do my best. I don’t know why I didn’t look at her before I left. I don’t know why I didn’t thank her for caring…


…Albus has asked me to perform an unforgivable. I cannot go through with it. I must find another solution…if my death precedes the Dark Lord’s, then my work will have been in vain…


‘If my death precedes the Dark Lord’s, then my work will have been in vain.’

Hermione vowed that this would not occur. Putting the journal back, she went to his bookshelf and retrieved a book she had seen earlier, Verboten Quests. On the coat hook, near the bookshelf she spotted his Death Eater robes and quickly looked away. Hermione knew what had to be done – she needed to find Severus.




AN: Thank you for your very supportive reviews!
Hugs,
Corazon