The First Summer and Summer Series

Severus flung the putter down in disgust. That stupid animal! Just when he made the perfect putt and it looked like his shot was going to go in, Crookshanks had streaked across the floor and intercepted the ball. With a single stroke of his paw, the cat put the ball under a heavy chest of drawers.

“I am never going to like this game,” Severus muttered darkly.

He glanced at the clock. Eleven. He should start thinking about going to bed. But he hated to. It seemed like as soon as his head hit the pillow these days he started having nightmares. A little light reading maybe? He chuckled and pulled out one of Hermione’s more sensual letters from his bedside table. He read her lustfully penned words and felt himself getting aroused. He wished she was here to give him release, both from his aching sex and his nightmares.

Severus put down her letter and stood to pull his nightshirt over his head. He laid back down on the bed fully nude and looked down at his larger than average penis, half hard and still expanding. He tried to imagine her mouthing him. Oh gods, for her body right now! He allowed his fingers to curl around the now straining organ, stroking briskly. In a moment or two he began spurting hot viscous fluid over his own belly. Not as satisfactory as being with Hermione, but it might help him relax and get some sleep. He wondered if Hermione ever did things like this, thinking of him? Probably not. He sighed and sat up.

Some of the pearly liquid dribbled down his side and onto the duvet.

“Oh hell!”

He grabbed his wand and tried to do a quick clean up. He hated sticky sheets, unless it was coming out of her, of course. Severus smirked. That was different. Besides, she was better at cleaning charms than he was. He put her letter away, laid back and sighed again, Hermione hadn’t written him any of those type of letters for a long time now. Of course, she was busy at the university. Come to think of it, her letters were getting rather few and far between. His brow wrinkled with concern. Maybe she was regretting...

“No, don’t be ridiculous!” he told himself. “She’s just busy!”

He rolled over on his side to sleep, hit a wet spot and grumbled darkly. Another couple of months and everything would be fine. Just fine. As sleep began to claim him, so did another nightmare. Things were decidedly not fine.


Dave Faversham was pleased when Hermione came to ask for a refill on the potion.

“It helped, did it?” he commented happily.

Hermione nodded, “What did you say it was called again?”

“Dave shrugged, “I told you. I keep forgetting. Here’s a new bottle. You’re following the instructions though?”

“Of course,”

“That’s all right then,” said Dave, “Just let me know when you need more.”

“Dave,” Hermione asked in an unsure voice, “This stuff isn’t addictive is it?”

“No, no!” Dave laughed, “It definitely isn’t addictive.”

“Does it have any side effects?”

“Well, it does keep you awake rather a lot,” he admitted.

“But nothing worse?”

“Not if you follow the instructions carefully,” he assured her.

Hermione nodded. It was good to have his reassurance that the stuff was safe. She was starting to have her doubts. She knew about the one side effect. Hermione found that she wasn’t sleeping anymore. She just wasn’t tired. She was getting a little short tempered though. Not that it mattered. She was almost done with her thesis. It promised to be brilliant! She wondered what would happen if she took just a tiny bit extra of Dave’s potion. Maybe she could get done this weekend! That would be wonderful!

Hermione slid the new little bottle her her pocket and smiled. Maybe if she got done she would have time to write a nice long letter to Severus. She felt just a little guilty that she had been neglecting him lately. But he would understand, she was sure.

That night, far up at Hogwarts, Severus awoke from a new nightmare. He had dreamt Hermione was in danger. Just what kind of danger he wasn’t sure. He shivered, and rolled over and went back to sleep.


Ron Weasley was starting to get worried. He had recently noticed that Hermione didn’t seem to be sleeping any more, at all, ever. It wasn’t insomnia. She didn’t seem tired. She never went to bed. Awake from dawn to dark, going to classes or head bent over her quill.

Ron tried to think how long this could have been going on for. He hadn’t really paid attention. How long could someone go without sleep? And how was she doing it? A time turner again? He continued to watch her for a few weeks, then, he started to see little changes. She was snappier. Sometimes she was so caught up in her studies that she was oblivious to everyone and everything about her.

Something wasn’t right. And he didn’t know who to ask. He tried asking Hermione herself about it but she had been evasive. Ginny, too, seemed reluctant to talk. Oddly enough, Ginny and Hermione didn’t seem to be on speaking terms any more. They must have had a disagreement but neither girl would discuss it.

But tonight, something was wrong, really wrong. Hermione was more than just snappish, she was almost frantic. She was behaving oddly, talking to no one, attacking her work like her life depended on it. It was the way she moved, even breathed, that had Ron concerned. There was only one person he could think of to ask but he hated doing it. More than likely the man would tell him to mind his own business. But he had to do something.

Severus Snape was starting to worry about Hermione. Her letters lately had been ...odd. They were general, formal, not his Hermione. And now he hadn’t heard from her in over a week. He began wondering whether she was regretting her decision to marry him. Perhaps there was even someone else. His stomach twisted at the thought. He loved Hermione more than life. What would he do if that was the case? He sighed deeply and sat down in front of the blazing grate. Suddenly, Ron Weasley’s head appeared in his fire.

“I wasn’t going to say anything to anyone,” Ron explained after he had given Severus a quick overview of what was going on in London, “But there’s really something wrong tonight. It’s like she’s in over-drive. Can’t calm down, can’t slow down. I’m really worried, Professor.”

“You should have told me before,” Severus reprimanded. It sounded as though Hermione might be having a breakdown. Was it just the study? Was it his fault? “I’m on my way.”


Ron opened the door to Severus. He silently indicated Hermione at the sitting room desk. Ginny and Harry were there as well, sitting, staring, obviously concerned. Hermione was completely oblivious to their presence. Her head was bent over the parchment, writing.

Severus cautiously approached the desk. He could see Hermione, scribbling furiously. The table was being splattered with ink from her frantic quill. She still was unaware of anything around her. It was as though they didn’t exist.

“Hermione?” Severus asked quietly, putting his hand on her shoulder.

Startled, she almost leapt from her seat. The quill dropped to the floor. He could see her hands were shaking. Her breath was short and shallow as though she had been running.

“Severus! What are you doing here?” she said it almost guiltily. So many years of teaching had given him a sixth sense about when someone was hiding something.

“I’ve come to check on you. You haven’t been answering my letters.”

She started to stammer guiltily. Severus stepped forward and grabbed her chin. Her face was haggard. She was pale and had dark circles under her eyes. Those eyes! Something wasn’t right. They moved quickly and erratically. This was more than coffee and willpower.

“Have you been taking anything to keep you awake?” he asked bluntly.

She attempted a nervous laugh and looked away, “What makes you think that, Severus?”

He grabbed her shoulders roughly, “Don’t lie to me, woman! What have you been taking?”

Ron started when Snape had grabbed Hermione but Harry put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.

She still didn’t meet his eyes, “It’s nothing... jus just...it’s a little something to help me to...keep going. Just until I finish...” Her voice tapered off lamely.

“Where is it?” Severus demanded in a growl. “Give it to me.”

Hermione hesitated.

“Now!” he barked.

Reluctantly, she reached in her robes and withdrew a tiny bottle. She h bad bad feeling about this revelation. She still didn’t know what was in the bottle, didn’t WANT to know. But something told her he wasn’t going to like it.

“I’m almost done with my thesis.” Her voice was pleading as she held the bottle out to him.

Severus released her shoulders and took the bottle from her. There were no markings on it. He pulled out the tiny stopper and held it under his large nose, sniffing suspiciously. He next touched the open top of the bottle with his finger and applied it to the tip of his tongue.

Harry and Ron saw his eyes widen in disbelief, then anger. Severus dropped the bottle to the floor and ground it under the heel of his boot.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Hermione shouted, “That’s mine, you bastard!”

She lunged at him angrily and left bloody claw marks down his left cheek. Severus roughly captured her wrist, before she could do more damage. Then he lifted his hand and deliberately struck her across the face. The blow was not hard. Even in blind anger he could not allow himself to truly hurt her, but she reeled anyway and fell to the floor.ry ary and Ron shot forward, each grabbing Severus by an arm as Hermione lay crumpled and crying.

“What do I think I’m doing?!?” he roared at her. “What are YOU doing? Are you trying to die? Or just go insane? Do I mean that little to you?” He struggled to free himself from Ron and Harry. “Who gave you that, Hermione? Very few people know how to make it. I want to know! Now!”

Ginny was at Hermione’s side, arm around her heaving shoulders.

“Tell me!” he ordered.

Hermione shook her head.

Severus finally relaxed, stopped struggling. He looked from Ron to Harry. Cautiously, they released their grip. Severus sank to his knees next to Hermione. He took up her hand and held it to his lips in supplication.

“Please, Hermione, my love,” he breathed against her skin, “I need to know who gave it to you.”

Hermione shook her head silently.

Ginny looked up at Severus and simply replied, “Dave.”

“Ginny,” Hermione wailed, “You shouldn’t have told him!”

Severus gave Ginny a weak smile, “Yes, she should have. Did he give any to you, Miss Weasley?”

“No, but he offered. I knew it had to be dodgey. He kept on about not telling anyone and exact dosages. It really did seem to help Hermione at first but...”

Severus nodded.

Hermione continued crying softly. She knew she had done something stupid; it still wasn’t quite clear what. She couldn’t think straight this evening for some reason. She couldn’t stop shaking. She couldn’t get rid of the feeling like she should hurry, run and do something. She couldn’t slow down and think straight.

Severus reached forward and took her into his arms. He brushed the hair back from her face and saw the red mark he had left on her cheek. His face flushed.

“Hermione. I’m sorry,” he exhaled, “So sorry.” Quickly he took his wand from his pocket and the red mark disappeared.

“I promise you that won’t ever happen again,” he vowed. “Ron and Harry are my witnesses to that.”

“You’re bleeding yourself, professor,” Ginny pointed out.

Severus touched the scratch marks then looked absently at the blood on his fingers. “It doesn’t matter. And now we need to get Hermione to hospital.”

“No!” she wailed, “My thesis!”

“Is no longer important.” Severus finished. “YOU are the important thing right now.”

It was late that evening before Severus returned to the house. He didn’t relish the thought of facing the Gryffindors again but there seemed no other logical conclusion. They would want to know how their friend was. And Hermione’s bedroom was his bedroom. He would have to stay. Besides, there was a score to settle with a certain anthropology professor in the morning.

He opened the door and stepped in. Harry, Ron and Ginny were all in the sitting room and looked up expectantly.

“How is she?” Harry asked.

“She’ll be fine. It was just a small overdose. There’s no lasting damage. They‘re keeping her overnight.”

“What was that potion?” Ginny asked.

“Accellera,” Severus replied. “It’s effective for continued performance but it’s highly dangerous. It has to be measured with complete precision n ovn overdose can easily cause insanity or death. It accelerates the functioning of all the internal organs. It can cause the heart to give out without warning. Long term use can affect the brain. Needless to say, it‘s illegal. Fortunately for Hermione, it‘s not addictive but I‘m afraid she had a microgram too much, hence her state this evening. The doctor assures me she should recover completely.”

He sat down, uncomfortably aware that he may not be welcome, especially after they had witnessed him striking Hermione. Hell, it was haunting him, never mind them!

He had struck her, not so much from anger and definitely not out of retaliation, but from the pain of what he thought was her betrayal. He thought she had been deliberately risking her life over that stupid thesis. But as he had sat holding her quaking form at the hospital and listening to her stumbled apologies, he realized that Hermione had not been fully aware of the dangers of the potion. She had seen its benefits and had been determined to run with it until her project was complete. She had had her suspicions of course, which explained her guilty countenance when he had confronted her.

Severus had lied to the doctor. He had admitted to having ‘accidentally’ administered the wrong potion to his fiancée. As a potions master he could legally have Accellera in his possession but doubtless he would receive a severe reprimand from the Ministry and Dumbledore would be informed of his ‘blunder’. It was better this way. He wanted to deal with Dave Faversham on his own.

Hermione had listened to her lover’s tale with surprise and then extreme discomfort as the doctor proceeded to call Severus every name under the sun, asking him over and over how he could be so “idiotic” as to give a potentially life threatening potion to an innocent young woman. Feeling anything but innocent, she watched him take every rebuke, every insult, in silence.

She wondered why. Quite frankly, she thought Dave deserved anything he got from the Ministry. If she had had any idea of just how dangerous and unstable that potion was! She should have guessed, Hermione chastised herself. Then, to make matters worse, the doctor had turned to Severus and began healing the deep scratches she had left on his face. Why had she done that?

She looked at Severus again. He glanced back at her and she saw deep remorse in his eyes. Shit! He was blaming himself for all of this. Why in Merlin’s name did the man always have to revert back to blaming himself, making himself into a villain? She was the one who had done it. She had no problem with admitting she made a mistake. He was probably eating himself up inside. And now the doctor was saying she would have to spend the night for observation. She couldn’t even go home with him, hold him and make everything okay again.

“I love you,” she whispered before he left.

“And I love you.”


After a mostly sleepless night, Severus rose from his bed and showered. He had a mission this morning and he was determined to get it done early. Then he was going to collect Hermione from the hospital. He had already owled Dumbledore and received permission to take a short leave of absence as she recovered. He was going to get her back stable and happy again if it killed him. And speaking of killing...a certain anthropology professor should be in his office by now.

As he entered the sitting room he found Ron and Harry waiting for him.

“Up rather early aren’t you?” he sneered.

“We’re going with you,” Ron said.

“And where do you think I’m going?”

“To visit Dave, of course.”

He raised a sarcastic eyebrow. “And if I were, why would I want you there?”

“I’m going to watch the door,” Harry smirked.

“I just want to watch,” grinned Ron. “Have you decided which hex yet? If not, I have a few suggestions.”

“I’m perfectly capable of selecting my own curses, Weasley!” He wavered for a moment, wondering whether or not to allow them along then added. “Maybe if you watch carefully, you might learn something.”

Half an hour later, Dave Faversham’s office door opened. Severus and Ron exited. Harry, who had been standing outside to prevent “interruptions” looked up expectantly.

“My god, Harry! It was brilliant!” Ron gloated. “You should have seen the git’s face!”

“What did you do?” Harry asked.

Severus allowed a sadistic smile to curl his upper lip, “We had a little chat then I removed his testicles.” Seeing Harry’s shocked expression he added, “Don’t look at me like that Potter! This particular curse allows them to grow back in a few months. Rather painfully of course.”

“Of course,” Ron laughed with glee, “Will you teach me that one?”

“And have you using it on me next time you lose your temper? No.”

“Aren’t you afraid he’ll go to the authorities?” Harry asked.

Severus looked at him as though he were simple. “He doesn’t dare, Potter. If he did we could reveal the hae has been distributing illicit potions to his students and he‘ll get in even worse trouble. I trust the little wart has learned his lesson. And now, I’m going to bring my Hermione home from the hospital. Thank you for your assistance.”