Flame of Existence

--> See Introduction for warnings/disclaimer.

FLAME OF EXISTENCE
/ by Bella

Chapter Two

Severus Salazar Snape paced the floor in front of the first row of desks in the classroom. He was biting his bottom lip, something he hadn’t done since Voldemort was still in reign. That Hermione Granger – Miss Granger – had sent his mind into a tailspin.

How dare she speak to him like that, but moreover, what did she mean by the words that were clearly outlined with venom. When the girl had walked into the room he had known that something was up. She didn’t look like herself, but more like a starved child that hadn’t gotten sleep in a week. Little did Snape know that he was close in his assumptions.

She had slammed the door – hard – when she had entered. Hermione Granger, before today, had never even spoke louder than she should have. She had caught his interest, and had proven to be just like the other teenagers her age.

Snape sneered. Teenage angst, oh lordy. Hermione Granger and teenage angst. The world was coming to an end

Snape knew that he couldn’t get away with her little show of indifference. Not on his watch, anyway. If he didn’t act soon, he knew that the other students would think that they, too, could get away with crossing Snape. When in reality, he would jerk a knot so fast in each of their arses that they wouldn’t know what hit them. Okay, maybe not so much physical pain, but more emotional when he started to pull even more points from their house cups.

A month’s detention sounded about right, so that evening when he went to the Great Hall for dinner, instead of going straight to the head table, he made a bee-line the Gryffindor table. He saw Ron Weasley’s bright red hair and made his way over there, dodging the feet that mysteriously popped out from under the tables as he passed. He took points mercilessly and when he got to where Ron and Harry were sitting, he realized that Hermione wasn’t there.

“Shites,” he said under his breath. “Where’s Miss Granger?”

Harry looked up from his meal and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure, sir. She hasn’t showed up.”


Snape sneered. Of course she hadn’t shown up– if she had, she’d be sitting there, wouldn’t she? Letting out a long breath, he retreated to the head table and sat down and began eating his meal. Ignoring the amble chit-chat that always went on between the professors, Snape ate in silence and as soon as he was finished eating, he got up again.

The hallways were quiet, as almost the entire school was seated in the Great Hall for supper. His walk to the Gryffindor end of the castle didn’t take long. He was standing before the door leading into the Head Girl’s rooms. He knocked loudly, but no answer came. He knocked again, and again. Finally, the door swung open and a half asleep Hermione stood there looking oddly at her professor.

“What?”

“Miss Granger, might I remind you that I am your professor, and a certain–“

“Amount of respect should be showed... I know, I know.” Hermione finished for him. “However, Professor Snape, sir, I don’t much respect you right now. So, if you don’t mind... what the bloody hell do you want?”

Snape stood back, surprised that she had dared speak to him like that – again He grabbed her by the arm and swung her out into the hallway.

“How dare you, you little child. I demand you apologize now.” His face, only inches from hers, seethed in anger. He realized that her eyes were uncaring and cold– every speck of light which had once resided there was now gone, erased.

Hermione tried to pull out of his grasp. “Let go of me ”

He didn’t, but he did loosen up his death grip. “Miss Granger...” he softened his voice a little. “What is going on?”

Hermione looked at him oddly and backed up a bit. “Please let me go.” Her lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears. She hit his hand lightly and tried to pull out again. This time, he allowed her to escape from his grasp.

“I don’t know what is going on with you, Miss Granger, but I think you need to get some help. I’m sure Madam Pomp–“

“No thank you, Professor. I am quite fine and dandy.” She grinned a broad, fake smile. Her tears were gone. “You wanted to talk to me about something?”

“Detention starts tomorrow night at eight. Be in the classroom no later.” With that, he left, robes billowing out behind him.

Hermione stood in the hall for a moment watching his hasty exit. She bit her lip and looked down at the floor. As if being burned, she ran into the room and slammed the door.

Safe behind the closed and warded door again, Hermione let out a sigh that bordered on a soft cry. Her eyes, which had, just a few minutes before, watered and then dried, were bloodshot. She rubbed the center of her forehead with her fingers, hoping to ease the headache that currently resided there.

Out in the hallway, an angry Snape attempted to cool his temper by mentally talking himself out of rage. He should have known that by her earlier display of rudeness, that she would probably still be in that funk. Still, it didn’t give her the right to disrespect him as much as she has.

He sighed loudly and passed by the Great Hall which was noisy with hyper students. He didn’t stop, but went straight down to the dungeons where he wrote out a list of things that Hermione could do for punishment.

Sitting at his desk with his hands folded over one another, he looked out across the empty desks and frowned. Ever since the fall of Voldemort and the Final Battle, the students had known of his part in the war. He stood there between Voldemort and Professor Dumbledore and was faced with the choice one last time... He could have killed Dumbledore and allowed Darkness to reign, or he could’ve cast the crucio curse on Voldemort and allowed Potter to finish him off. He did the latter, which proved to be the right choice.

Snape looked down at the piece of parchment where he had listed the things Hermione would do the next night at detention and his frown deepened. He was disappointed that he even had to put the Granger chit in detention – it was so unlike her to be rude and apathetic.

He could feel that something was definitely wrong with her, but he couldn’t place his finger on what it was exactly that was messing her up. The thought of using Legilimency on her didn’t sound very appealing, mostly because he had refrained from doing it since the fall of Voldemort. However, he didn’t know what else he could do.

Don’t do anything, his voice said to himself. Stay out of it - it doesn’t involve you. It’s Hermione – Miss Granger. The Insufferable Know-it-all that has caused you many nights of fuming and firewhiskey for her obnoxious brilliance.

Snape shook his head and looked back down at the list, wondering whether or not to just stay out of the whole ordeal.

{--------------------------------------------}

“Hey Harry, did you see that one witch that was sitting at the Ravenclaw table? She’s new, you know... I think....” Ron spoke to a very distracted Harry, who was at the moment twiddling his thumbs. His eyebrows were knitted together in thought - he was completely ignoring Ron.

“Ron,” Harry interrupted. “I’m going to go talk to Hermione.”

Ron nodded. “Cool, I’ll come too...”

“No, I think I’ll go alone... I want to discuss some stuff with her.”

Ron nodded again and looked at his best friend oddly. “Oh... okay.”

Harry stood from the couch he was sitting on and left the common room. He stepped out into the quiet hallway and walked down towards the Head Girl’s rooms. Standing in front of Hermione’s doorway, he thought of what to talk to her about. He didn’t know what was up with her earlier that day, and he didn’t want to pull her out on her actions too much or make her shrink back into whichever corner she was currently inhabiting.

He knocked twice, and on the second knock the door to her rooms swung open and she stood there glaring with both fists clenched as if she were going to rip his head from his shoulders.

Harry instinctively took a step back and put his hands up in front of his chest. “Whoa, Hermione... are you okay?”

Seeing that the person who had knocked on her door was Harry and not Snape (again), Hermione lowered her fists and motioned him into the room.

“Hey Harry,” she finally said as she walked over to the couch that had become her best friend. “What are you up to?”

Harry shrugged and sat down beside her. “Hermione...” He looked away from her for a brief moment, collecting his thoughts. “What is going on?”

Hermione leaned back a little and gave him a look that could kill. “Why is everyone asking me that?” She stood up from the couch and paced back and forth. “Even Snape. Like it’s his business anyway. Bloody bastard. I’m sick of all of you males thinking that you can solve everything. Well guess what! You can’t!”

Harry, sitting stunned on the couch at her outburst, didn’t move. He knew that she wasn’t talking directly to him, but in general. He looked at her as her hands moved animatedly through the air with each syllable she spoke. Her hair, wilder and frizzier than ever, made her tired face look even more worn.

“It’s absolutely absurd! Snape came here a little bit ago and tried to tell me that I needed help. Me! Of all the people, he says that I need help. Mind you, this was coming from the Bat of the Dungeons that has an unbelievably bad fucking attitude every day of the year. Nobody finds that quite odd– at least not for him. But me, when I have an attitude everyone thinks it’s the end of the world! I mean–“

“Hermione,” Harry interrupted. “What happened?”

Hermione paused and dropped her hands, as if she had been defeated. “What do you mean, Harry?”

“You’re different. Everything about you has changed. Ever since that party...”

“No, Harry. Please don’t go there. I’m fine. I’m me. I’m Hermione Granger, and always have been. I– I’m just on my period, okay?” She sat down beside him again and put her head on his shoulder and sighed loudly. “I once loved it here, Harry.”

“Here?”

“Hogwarts. I always looked forward to it. I loved the library, and the professors, and you and Ron. You guys were the reason I continued to come here. It was perfect. But now... Now I just want to go home. Her eyes filled with tears again and she bit her lip in effort of suppressing a sob that threatened to get out. “I still love you and Ron, don’t ever mistake that... It’s just...”

“It’s okay, Hermione.” Harry took one of her hands in his and rubbed the back of it gently with his thumb. He was at a loss for words, so he didn’t say anything. He knew that there was more going on to Hermione than her monthly ‘friend’. He had never seen her act like this throughout any of their school years, so why would this one month be any different?

Harry allowed himself to sigh as well, and he looked into the fire. He didn’t know exactly what was going on with Hermione, but he knew that whatever it was, it was eating her alive.

When Hermione’s eyes closed and her breathing evened out, Harry gently moved her head onto a pillow and stood from the couch. He stayed there looking at her for a minute or so, taking in the peaceful look on her face. She looked good resting, not tense like she had been for the past day or so.

Harry grabbed a throw blanket from the back of a chair located by the couch, and gently laid it over her sleeping body. With a final look back at his friend, he left her rooms and went back to Gryffindor tower where Ron was now engaging Neville in a long story.

{--------------------------------------------}

Anyone standing back from Hermione Granger and looking in would know that she was having a nightmare, and a bad one at that. Her forehead was beading with sweat and she was kicking the end of the couch.

“No,” she mumbled incoherently as she gripped the edge of the throw blanket Harry had put over her. “Please.”

The faceless person slid his fingers under the hem of her shirt and then up her stomach. When his cold fingers reached her breasts, he latched on a squeezed tightly, leaving fingerprints in the sensitive flesh.

Hermione yelled out, but nobody would come.

The unknown wizard undid her pants and pushed them down to her ankles– far enough to allow her legs to spread as much as he needed.

He crept between her legs, probing her softly at first in search for the entrance into her core. Finding it, he dropped all mercy aside and pushed into her quickly. Buried to the hilt, he moaned slightly, ignoring persistent tears from the witch beneath him.

He moved in and out quick and hard, and when his breathing became ragged, he let go. Grabbing onto her thick hair and pulling, which awarded him with another loud cry, he came inside of her.

By the time he was finished, the faceless wizard’s features were visible. It was Draco Malfoy, the same wizard that continued to haunt Hermione’s dreams.

Haunt, indeed.

Hermione woke up quickly from her dream the second she recognized the grey-blue eyes that burnt her skin like fire. Jumping up from the couch, she ran the short distance to the bathroom and hugged the commode. Dry heaves erupted from deep within her stomach. She couldn’t vomit - she had nothing in her stomach. But she wanted to vomit - somehow getting everything out seemed appealing to her.

She gave up after a few minutes and stood, wiping the edges of her lips with the sleeve of her robe. The reflection in the mirror was foreign to her. She didn’t look like herself, and she chided the person staring back at her for attracting attention from both Harry and Snape.

Hermione undressed quickly and stepped underneath the showerhead that was spitting cold water. When the water warmed, she relaxed a bit and looked down at her stomach which had shrunk a little in the past day without food. She placed a hand over her abdomen wondering if she had killed the baby that could have possibly been conceived there.

Damn Draco Malfoy and any of the children he should ever have.

Tears mixed with the water from the shower, Hermione stood there motionless, letting the warm water cascade down her body. After a while she got the soap out and began scrubbing herself down. She wanted to purge her body of the dream she had with Malfoy. She didn’t want any reminder of it.

After her long shower, Hermione dressed in a set of comfortable robes and made her way out of her rooms. She had Head Girl duties that night, including walking the hallways (much like the Prefect’s Duties). She didn’t necessarily want to do it, but she knew she had to.

Wand tucked in the pocket inside of her robes, she started down the hallway to the lower floor. For a while she paced back and forth, but then stopped and stood beside a pillar where she rested her head. There were no students in the hallway, and she doubted that there would be any.

It was late – about one o’clock – when Hermione finally decided to give up on catching a student out of bed. She slowly walked back up to her rooms, wand extended and the Lumos charm in full effect. When she entered her apartment, she stopped and looked around. It was dark, lonely.

Well what do you expect, she asked herself as she took off her outer robes. Grabbing a large book from her own bookshelf, she took it into her bedroom and settled into a chair by her bed. She knew another sleepless night was going to be a problem. So far, it had been.

{--------------------------------------------}

When Hermione didn’t show up for breakfast or lunch again that day, Professor Dumbledore began to worry. Snape had told him what had happened in the classroom and then again outside of her rooms, and he felt guilty for not noticing what was going on again.

He stared out over the sea of students happily eating their lunches and sighed, wishing that Hermione Granger was one of them.

Lunch ended as usual and Professor Dumbledore decided to go speak with Professor Snape again, seeing as he had time to think over Hermione’s situation. Making his way down to the dungeons, he quietly let himself into the potions classroom where Snape was grading papers, as it was his free period.

“Severus, I have thought over all that you have told me about what Miss Granger has done, and I have decided that it would be best if we simply ride it out and see what will happen on its own.”

“Well, Headmaster, that is a brilliant plan.” Snape gave his trademark sneer. “It’s not like I was planning on being Hermione Granger’s – what do they call them in the muggle world? – shrink. Indeed not. I simply thought it best to tell you so that you can handle the situation accordingly.”

“I see.” Professor Dumbledore looked at Snape thoughtfully. “You have set her up for detentions, have you not Severus?”

“She starts tonight, sir.”

“Good. Please tell me if anything else unusual goes on tonight. Good day, Professor.”

With that, Dumbledore left the classroom, leaving a slightly confused Snape sitting there.

{--------------------------------------------}

Some would say that Hermione Granger’s absence from her classes was due to a sickness, and indeed it was a sickness that was holding her back. A sickness of heart, and of mind. The thought of sitting there exposed to the rest of the student body was almost nauseating to her.

While the rest of her year was taking notes in a variety of classes, she was upstairs in her bed rocking back and forth in attempt to shake a recurring nightmare from her system.


End of Chapter Two / To Be Continued

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for all of the great reviews! I was psyched to see that you all like the story so far. As I said in the before chapter, I will try to update as much as I can– promise! Keep on the lookout for an update because it’s about to start getting juicy. :D