Saving your life

He left her with her parents and Apparated back to London; he had to talk to the Dark Lord. It seemed the Death Eaters he had sent to her house hadn’t returned yet; that would give him more time.

“My Lord,” he said, bowing slightly as he entered the studio. “We have the wandmaker.”

“Where is he?”

“Downstairs, in the dungeons,” he said, still standing by the door.

“Have you heard about the attack?”

“Someone told me we hadn’t been able to get the prisoners, but that is all I know.”

“So your witch hasn’t told you anything?”

“I haven’t seen her yet, Master.”

“They were waiting for us. I lost many Death Eaters tonight, Severus. You are supposed to be spying for me, you should have told me they would be there, ready for us.” He could see the anger in his face and knew he was walking a dangerous line.

“I didn’t know, My Lord, but surely Rodolphus should have anticipated it. After the first attack in the morning they were sure to keep a closer look on the others, and even without the second attack they were probably going to move them somewhere else.”

“The attack was your idea, Severus. Why didn’t you say that before?”

“I was planning on going right after the park; that way they wouldn’t have had time to prepare, and I told Rodolphus so but he insisted the attack should be better planned, he said he needed more time.”

The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes at that, but before he could say anything else there was a knock on the door, and then it opened to reveal another masked man.

“Travers”

“We just arrived, Master. They weren’t there.” Anger flashed in his red eyes as he motioned for the Death Eater to leave, his attention back on Severus.

“I sent a few men to pay your witch’s family a visit. It seems they weren’t home.”

“They were moved to a safe place, along with the rest of the immediate families of all Muggle-born witches and wizards from the Order months ago.” He felt him probe his mind then and stopped him.

“Why did you want to find them, Master?”

“I wanted to let the girl know what happens if she fails to do as I ask. I wouldn’t want her to forget she is working for me now, and I am sure you feel the same way.”

“She has told me everything she knows so far, Master. If her parents were hurt she would just back off, we would lose our only informant. If I can keep her fooled and working with me I believe I can make my way back into the Order, and then we wouldn’t need her anymore.”

Knowing the logical approach didn’t always work with him he waited for an answer, doing his best to look calm and indifferent.

Once he was sure the Dark Lord wouldn’t go after Hermione or her family, at least for the time being, he went back to talk to her. He needed to know what had happened during the attack the previous evening. Then he set to the next task, finding her parents a safe place to stay.

He couldn’t send them somewhere he owned, or he would risk exposure if the Dark Lord ever found them. He decided he would get them out of the country, and remembered he knew a wizard in Hungary, much like Mundungus Fletcher, who could help him. Pointing his wand at a nearby rock he mumbled ‘Portus’ and then touched it, finding himself in Budapest the next second.

He walked the almost empty streets, too early for people to get up to work and too late for most who stayed up all night. He knew where a man like him could be found, so he searched for an open wizard’s pub. It wasn’t long before he found what he needed. He had gone home already, but the barman knew him and told him where he lived.

The man wasn’t pleased with the banging on the door waking him up, but his mood changed as soon as he realized Severus was there for business. He told him he knew of a place in the city he could use and agreed to take him right away.
The house wasn’t too big, but it looked safe enough, so after paying for it he turned to the wizard and stunned him. Men like that couldn’t be trusted and he knew it well, so the only thing he could do was obliviate him and take him back to where he lived.

After going back and placing strong wards around the house, he left a letter to her parents, telling them to stay inside the house and wait. He would visit them in a few days.

Stepping back out he Apparated to his own place. He needed to talk to Hermione. He found the library empty, so he walked up to the bedroom.

He stood at the door and watched her sleep for a few minutes before he remembered why he was there. Not wanting to wake her up again, he decided to leave her a note, explaining where her parents would be and leaving a Portkey to the new house.

He had already reached the doorway before he remembered he had dragged her out of headquarters that night, not giving her time to get dressed. He walked back to his room and found a robe and some shoes, and after shrinking them he left them by her bed and left.

Back at Spinners’ End, he noticed the smell of the potion from the entrance. He had forgotten all about it. He walked to the lab and stood by the cauldron. The colour had turned a dark shade of blue, and that meant it was almost done. Reaching for a glass jar inside one of the small cupboards on the wall he took some of the silver powder in it and added it to the potion. He stirred it clockwise three times and then took the cauldron out of the fire. A few more hours and it would be ready.

It was almost dawn by the time he crawled into bed. It had been a very, very long day.

Not finding much rest in the few hours he managed to sleep he finally got up, surprised to see it was already midday.

The potion was ready and he knew he had to try it himself, make sure it worked properly before giving it to her.

He walked to his lab again, closing the door behind him and taking a goblet from one of the tables. The swirling liquid was black now, and after leaving next to him a few antidotes he might need if something went wrong, he poured some of the potion into the goblet and drank it. He felt the room start to spin the moment the warm liquid touched his lips and he closed his eyes, trying to focus. The next thing he knew he was laying on his back, the goblet empty by his hand.

His head hurt and he still felt dizzy and confused, but after a few seconds, images of what he had seen flooded his mind. He wasn’t sure what had happened. The truth was he had expected to see something entirely different. He thought he would see the Dark Lord defeated, that he would find himself free for once in his life, not having to do what others told him to, finally able to make his own decisions. The rational part of his mind, the one in charge, told him that was what he desired the most, so when he woke up his first thought was that the experiment hadn’t worked properly. It took him a few more seconds to realize the potion had reached a part of himself he had kept locked for so long he had forgotten its existence. He wanted her. He wanted her to love him, for some reason he couldn’t begin to understand.

Instead of getting up, he spent the rest of the afternoon there, unable to move, lost in thought. Simple denial had worked wonders so far, but it wouldn’t do anymore. Usually, in a situation like this, he rarely let anything get so far out of hand; he would take the fastest road and simply stay away from her. He couldn’t do that, they had to work together. Well, if he couldn’t stay away he would at least have to keep his hands to himself.

Not wanting to think about that anymore he decided to try the potion again, this time focusing on the war. Now knowing how fast it worked, he took the refilled goblet with him, walked up to his bedroom and lay on the bed.

He had always had a strong mind, and had learned to control his thoughts long ago, so it wasn’t hard to concentrate before taking the potion this time.

It worked just as he had expected, but left him incredibly tired. Gathering all his remaining strength, he reached for the piece of parchment inside his pocket and scribbled a note, asking her to meet him the next morning in the apartment near Kings Cross. As soon as he read her response, he put it away and fell asleep.

For the first time in years, he had good dreams, remembering what he had seen, the war over, the Dark Lord finally out of his life, and he awoke in a good mood. Until he remembered the other things the potion made him see.

He arrived at the apartment early and waited for her, reminding himself to behave as he paced around the room.
When he finally heard the soft knock on the door, he took a deep breath and let her in.

The way she smiled at him when he opened the door almost made him forget his resolution and push her against the wall right there and then, but he still had enough self-control to look away and act indifferent.

He made sure he stayed as far away from her as he could without her noticing any change in his behaviour, but every time she looked at him or talked, he would remember what he had seen the previous day and feel his body struggling to take control and reach for her.

Then she stood up and walked to him, a concerned look on her face, asking him what was wrong, and he knew he would do something stupid if he didn’t just leave.

As he made his way back to his place he couldn’t help but wonder if the potion would work as he needed it to. He knew Potter would find it hard to focus enough for it to work, but Dumbledore had had faith in the boy, the same kind of faith he had shown him when he had made the hard and dangerous decision to turn to the light, when no one else believed in him. Maybe he would show a little patience.


´Have you tried the potion yet?’ he wrote, hours later. It took a few minutes for the answer to form.

‘Yes.’

‘Did it work?’ he asked, already knowing the answer.

‘Well, it worked but…’

‘What did he see?’

‘He didn’t see the Horcruxes,’ she finally wrote.

‘I believe I told you there is a limited supply. I explained he had to concentrate on in before taking the potion.’

‘It is not easy, and it was just the first attempt.’

‘How does everyone expect him to save the entire wizarding world when he can’t manage to do something as simple as controlling his own mind, focusing on something for a few minutes, is beyond my understanding’

‘That’s not fair, it is not that easy. He just…’

‘Life is not fair, and neither am I,’ he interrupted before he could finish what he was writing.
His words vanished from the parchment and it stayed blank for a few moments.

‘Have him take the rest of the potion,’ he wrote, ‘and let me know as soon as it is done. I want to know what he sees. I will not waste the potion and my work on someone who can’t handle it.’

‘I will go see him now,’ she wrote, and then he rolled the parchment and put it away.
He felt the mark in his arm burn. His Master was calling.

“What do you know about the men the Order captured?” his Lord asked as soon as he stepped into the studio. He could feel his anger in the air, not a good sign at all.

“Nothing yet, Master. I will meet the witch tonight.”

Without so much as a word, he saw the red eyes narrow, a bony hand wrap around a wand and point at him and then pain. Searing pain.

“You should know it by now,” he said as he lifted the curse. “Are you not a spy?”

“Yes, Master, I am sorry,” he answered, panting as he tried to get up.

“You have failed me many times, Severus. My patience is running out.”

He waited a few seconds, towering over him, as if trying to decide what to do next. Then the wand was aimed his way again. ‘Crucio’ He saw his lips form the word, but didn’t hear the sounds.

The pain was back, and he fell to the ground again. He felt like his entire body was on fire, his back arching off the ground, his head hitting the hard floor again and again. His throat was raw from screaming, but the torture didn’t stop. The feeling of needles buried deep in his flesh came then, even worse than the burning, his body twisting so badly he felt bone break. Then it stopped again.

The sound of his screams still echoed in the room and in his ears, his arms and legs still shaking, his breathing ragged and his vision blurred.

“You will find out where they are keeping the prisoners now, and where the Muggles are hiding. I do not care what you have to do, but I want to know it. If you disappoint me again, you and your witch will be the first to go. You will not be able to protect her anymore. Is that understood?” he asked cruelly, towering over the panting man again.

“Yes, Master,” he managed to answer.

“Good, now get out of here,” he said as he walked to the door and left the room.

Gritting his teeth he slowly got up, one arm wound around his ribcage as he used the other to support his weight. He couldn’t stay and heal himself, he knew better than that. Leaning on the wall, he made his way out of the room.

He had known his Master would be upset about what had happened and with Rodolphus gone, he would find a way to blame him for everything, but that hadn’t been as bad as he had expected. Soon he would be alright again.

He was surprised the Dark had mentioned Hermione, though. He was sure he hadn’t seen anything about her in his mind, not even when he was torturing him, so he must have noticed the way he tried to protect her, and that wasn’t good. He would have to be much more careful.

Slowly, he made his way to the door, glad he hadn’t ran into anyone on the way. Knowing it would hurt he took a deep breath and Apparated to his house.

It took him almost an hour to find all the potions and salves he would need before he finally walked to his bed and lay down. His arms and legs, along with his back, were covered in bruises, and he had broken two ribs and his left wrist.

The potions soon took away most of the pain and the salves would heal the bruises in a few hours, but the bones would take longer. He didn’t have the necessary potions or the ingredients to brew them, and he couldn’t just go to a healer and ask for help. Rest was the only thing that would help, so he took some sleeping draught and closed his eyes, letting the darkness take over.

He woke to the sound of scratching, and he had to cover his eyes to shield from the sunlight coming through the window. He had slept too long. He tried to move and found he felt much better, even if his ribs still hurt. He tried to get up then, but felt incredibly tired, his arms and legs as heavy as his eyelids.

He closed his eyes again, just for a moment, he told himself, and then the same sound woke him up again. His mind was clear now, and soon he realized what the scratching was. Slowly, he reached for his robes, took the parchment from his pocket and read it.

‘Are you there?’ it said.

Finally getting up and walking to his desk, he found a quill and answered a simple ‘Yes’.
As soon as he finished writing it a new line appeared.

‘Thank God, I was so worried!”

‘Worried?’ he asked, trying to imagine what could have happened in his absence.

‘I have been trying to reach you since dawn, and you didn’t answer. I wrote every fifteen minutes but nothing. I was so scared.’

She was scared for him, he thought surprised.

‘You have no need to be worried about me, Miss Granger. I can very well look after myself.’

‘That’s not what I meant,’ she quickly wrote back.

‘What happened with the potion?’ he asked then, trying to change the subject.

‘I think it started to work.’

‘Started?’

‘Well, Harry said the images he saw were blurred, but he recognized the place he found himself in. He has been there before, but in the vision it looked different.’

‘What did he see?’

‘The place where one of the Horcruxes was hidden.’

‘And he has been there before?’

‘Yes, but the Horcrux isn’t there anymore.’

He thought about it for a moment, trying to decide what to do next. He couldn’t be sure the boy hadn’t just recalled a memory of the place.

‘Meet me tonight at the Leaky Cauldron, I will give you another bottle,’ he wrote, deciding to give the boy another chance.

‘What time?’

‘Nine,’ he answered. ‘Make sure no one follows you.’

‘I will.’

Then he tapped the parchment with his wand and it burst into flames, both his parchment and hers consumed by the fire in a few seconds.

He turned around and looked at the clock on the wall. It was already past eleven. Moving carefully he made his way to the bathroom and started the shower. The smell of the salves on his skin was already unbearable.

The hot water helped relax his muscles, but the shower brought back memories of both of them, under the water, not so long ago, her writhing deliciously under his touch, kissing him heatedly. He groaned and hit the wall in frustration, remembering too late that his wrist still hurt.

Cursing loudly at the pain he stepped out of the shower. It had to stop; he couldn’t live like that anymore. It wasn’t good for him and definitely less than she deserved. That thought surprised him; he couldn’t remember when he had started to care.

He pushed her out of his mind as he dressed, thoughts of what his Lord had told him the previous day taking its place as he walked down to the kitchen. He had asked for the prisoners and the Muggle families, and he knew he had to give him something. He was unpredictable and especially cruel when enraged.

He spent the afternoon contemplating all possibilities. It was a hard decision. He had found himself in situations like this before, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Before he knew it, it was time to leave. He took one of the little bottles from his lab and put it in his pocket as he left the house and Apparated by the Leaky Cauldron.