Goodnight, Demon Slayer

Goodnight, Demon Slayer
Chapter Twenty-Two:
The Beasts You Defeat

The Death Eaters had not all gone quietly, and a great number of them had died fighting against the Order of the Phoenix.

Probably thought it was a good alternative to Azkaban.

Some of the Order had been injured in the skirmish though their conquest of the Death Eaters had been almost total, and these few fallen were gathered together in a makeshift infirmary which had been set up in the middle of the battleground. They were being attended to by Madam Pomfrey and a very frazzled Molly Weasley. Arthur was one of the wounded, though barely, and he kept trying to give his wife a thin flesh colored strip of plastic he thought would help ("The Muggles call them 'Band-Aids.' They're self-adhering bandages! They just STICK wherever you need them to go! ANYWHERE, Molly! They're fantastic! Though you do want to avoid areas with hair...Whatever will the Muggles think of next?"). Most of the able-bodied had assisted the Aurors in accompanying the Death Eaters to Azkaban, though some still milled about the tent, congratulating each other and joking in the hushed tones one always uses around the ill and injured. Among those still in attendance were Albus Dumbledore who chatted exhaustedly with Arthur Weasley about Band-Aids and Harry Potter who was grinning like he'd just won the Quidditch World Cup but who was trying very hard to act humble. Everyone who stayed there was quietly jubiliant, trying to keep their joy to a level suitable for a hospital. They had defeated the Dark Lord! They had won! The world would once again be safe for puppies and Chrsitmas! Not even one of them had died. It was only a matter of time before they all reconvenere at Gimmauld Place and threw the party of the cen. E. Everyone was ecsatic.

Everyone except for the dark shadow hovering posessively over Hermione Granger's bed.

Hermione had not reawakened since fainting in front of Harry, but Madam Pomfrey had reassured everyone that she would be okay. The mediwitch had treated Hermione's concussion easily and made it very clear that the girl was suffering from a severe case of exhaustion, simultaneously shooing people away from her bedside.

Severus Snape would not be moved.

Looking on her now, slumbering so peacefully, Severus was reminded of the song she sung for the children in a time that seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Goodnight, Demon Slayer, goodnight
Now it's time to close your tired eyes
There's demons to slay and dragons to ride
If they see you coming, hell, they'd better hide
Goodnight, goodnight, goodnight
Goodnight, my little slayer, goodnight"

He smiled a little at the memory and how much the song now reminded him of Hermione. She was indeed a demon slayer; she had been instrumental in the downfall of the Dark Lord. She had stood before him, brave and unflinching; she had defied him by never giving up information on Severus even though he must have known she had it. She had fought him to the very last, offering up her body rather than capitulating to him.

And Severus had been pathetic- spineless- allowing Hermione to suffer simply so he could survive. He knew she had meant it when she had said loveloved him. He also knew she'd wanted him to take her- she'd said as much. She'd wanted to keep him safe, but he could not rid himself of the images which seemed to spring endlessly to his mind. He had memorized every grimace of pain to cross her face, every wince of pain as he moved inside her. With a sudden feeling of nausea, her remembered her there, standing over Voldemort's body, her thighs streaked bright red from blood. She had been so strong, and he haen ten too weak to do anything other than what he'd been ordered to do.

If he'd been any type of man at all, he'd have refused to take Hermione, incriminating himself but saving her.

Be sensible, Severus, his mind oredered rather sternly. If you had given yourself up, Voldemort would have given Hermione over to the Malfoys where far worse than sex with the man she loved (even public sex with the man she loved) would happen to her.

But Severus had to believe there'd been another way, some way that wouldn't have harmed Hermione, some way he hadn't been able to think of then and couldn't think of now. But there was some way- he was sure of it- and he had failed her by not recognizing it. He had failed her, and he couldn't imagine that she'd ever be able to look at him again.

His breath caught in his chest, and heart skipped a beat as she turned in her sleep. For a moment it looked as though she was waking up, and Severus was caught between elation and abject horror. He wanted nothing more than for her to open her eyes and smile at him, but he knew that a more probable scenario was Hermione opening her eyes and trying desperately to hide the fear and laotthing she now felt for him.

It had not been rape.

She would never call it rape.

But it wasn't far off.

She had been willing, yes, but she had not been ready. How strange it seemed that only a few hours before this debacle, they had shared their very first intimate moments. How surreal to remember the joy on her face as he'd touched her then, compared to the pain he'd inflicted earlier.

She was tossing and turning now, and tears sprang to Severus' eyes as he considered that he may be the cause of her nightmare. He had never meant to hurt her; he truly hadn't! In fact, he'd started this all in order to protect her! He'd just been too weak and too stupid to do anything to stop it. But he had hurt her, and he knew he'd never forgive himself for that. And how could she be expected to forgive him if he couldn't even forgive himself?

Crying softly to himself, Severus replayed another bit of Hermione's song in his head.

"Learn what you can from the beasts you defeat
You'll need it for some of the people you meet"

She had defeated a beast; she had vanquished the Dark Lord, and Severus had no doubt that she would indeed learn from her experience.

Hermione seemed to learn from buttering her toast.

She would overcome this and go on to defeat every demon that ever crossed her path.

All except one.

She would never defeat Severus because for one time in his life he would be brave enough to fail.

Severus was giving up.

There would be no awkward silences or nervous glances. She wouldn't have to worry about him anymore, and he wouldn't have to worry about hurting her again. He leaned down slowly, a tear slashing on her cheek, and kissed her one last time.

Leaving her, Severus was almost startled to find Harry watching the entire thing. Strangely, Severus felt no need to hide his tears from the boy. He simply laid a hand on Harry's shoulder and looked him straight in the eye.

"Make sure she gets home safely."

Harry nodded, confused as Severus strode away from him. Turning quickly back toward Harry, the Potions Master added one more instruction.

"Potter!" he snapped, causing Harry to tear his gaze away from Hermione and back to his formerly hated teacher. Well, honestly, still a little hated. But Harry's heart broke at Snape's next words, his normally strong baritone a pleading cry. "Take care of her."

Severus was gone before Harry could respond.

It was still a few hours after that before Hermione was able to rouse herself from the deep and infinitely relaxing sleep in which she had been drifting so peacefully.

Well, mof thf the time it had been peaceful, a little voice in her head whispered. And suddenly she began to remember bits and pieces of the nightmare that had haunted her, now almost completely forgotten.

***
"Severus, no!"

She was crying- she remembered that much- but she wasn't quite sure what she was upset about, only that Severus was at the core of the problem. She was sitting on the bed he'd been using this summer, her legs crossed underneath her and her arms folded across her chest.

This is a weird position to be in when I'm so upset, she thought, and immediately got off the bed to pace. Severus was in the room, too, but he kept leaving and coming back, each time carrying something.

"No, Severus!" she cried again, throwing her hands to her sides wildly. That's a better "upset" position.

Stopping to look at her for the first time during the dream, Severus glared down at her. No, not Severus- Snape. There he was in all his prickish glory- the long teaching robes, the hair that looked completely unwashed, the snarl on his lips. It was Snape, definitely Snape.

"Miss Granger, I must insist you stop pestering me."

"But Severus, why?"

At this, a slow, cruel smile played across the Potions Master's face. Immediately, Hermione slunk away from him and sat on the bed once agaiow now nervously chewing on her bottom lip.

"Oh, did ickle 'Mione get attached?" Snape laughed, glaring at her humorlously as he did so. "You know what you are to me, Miss Granger? You are a pity fuck. Someone to be used when I need and then thrown away like the piece of trash you are. You are nothing to me, Granger. There are hundreds more like you back at Hogwarts. Now get out of my way."

Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes at the words, and instead of moving as he asked, she positioned herself more squarely in his way.

Wait a minute... I was just on the bed... I HATE dreams! There's no order, no logic...

"Severus, please don't go!" she cried, but it was to no avail. The snarky Potions Master only turned on his heel and walked down her hallway (which was now the Hogwarts dungeon- stupid dreams!) and out of her sight. Hermione collapsed against the door frame, sobbing.
***

Remembering the dream with a sudden and unwanted clarity, Hermione physically shook herself to try and rid herself of the vision.

Which is not the way one should act after suffering head trauma while there are people watching over you.

A swarm of remaining members of the Order immediately crowded her so that by the time she opened her eyes, she almost laughed. It sort of looked like the end of "The Wizard of Oz." She resisted the urge to say it out loud, but in her head, she recited. "I had the strangest dream. And you were there, and you were there, and you-"

"Where's Severus?" Hermione asked, panic stricken. Stepping forward, Harry took her hand and met her gaze. They'd been friends long enough that he couldn't bear to lie to her or cover anything up. He had to tell her the truth, no matter how much it hurt or how fragile Madam Pomfrey deemed her to be.

"He's..." Harry choked out, tearing up himself even though he still hated the greasy git. "He's gone, Hermione. He left."

Hermione knew that Harry was telling the truth, and all of a sudden everything seemed to be too much. The dream, the events of the past day, everything. It was more than she had ever handled at one time. It was more than she could handle.

And so she did the only thing she knew to do. She closed her eyes and cried herself back to sleep. She would deal with it later. She would deal with it in the morning.