To Save A Serpent

As she pulled herself to her feet from the tiny tunnel her thoughts were still whirling. How she’d managed to evade them all, she wasn’t quite sure, but none of that mattered because she was there, though it took a great effort to force her eyes to stare at his lifeless body, tears continuing to streak from them.

The floor was stained with crimson. His blood coated the ancient wooden boards filling the wolf claw marks and the uneven grooves of every plank. And yet he seemed so peaceful, his whiter than white face gazing off at an angle, black eyes empty. She whimpered, crossing the still sticky floor slowly, her shoes slipping in his blood. Hermione stilled, taking them off, her socks too, and then walked barefoot, her feet pressing into the blood until she stood over his body.

“Dear Gods, Severus,” she whimpered, and fell to her knees, practically throwing her head against his unmoving chest. He was still warm, though clammy. Hermione’s eyes gazed up his torso to his neck, the wounds had all but sealed away, nothing more than two little dots thanks to the Phoenix Tears, but she had been too late. She was gentle as she lifted her head from his torso and gazed into his lifeless eyes, though she could not look for more than a moment.

As carefully as she could, with her trembling forefinger and thumb, Hermione closed his eyelids and then placed a quivering kiss upon each one. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” she repeated, sobs wracking her body, and she fell, face down on the blood soaked floor boards beside him. “Why?” she shrieked at the top of her lung, fists pounding the floor until her knuckles split and she could no longer tell which blood was his and which was hers.

~*~

“Miss Granger, you are proving to be almost as pathetic as Potter, now concentrate. Control your mind!” he spat and then raised his wand. “Legillimens…” and a bright bolt of light shot forward into her mind. Images began racing around and she struggled to block them out. There was blackness but then she was standing there, practically crying with her hand over her mouth as her teeth grew and she could hear his snide voice.

“Still holding a grudge on me for that, Granger?” he snapped and her eyes flew open.

“Stop it!” she hissed and pulled her knees to her chest in the chair. “You’re going too fast, and we’ve been at it for—”

“Hours, yes I know, Potter gave a similarly pathetic plea last year…” he spat. “You’ve been back to school nearly a week, your mind should no longer have the consistency of fig pudding, summer holidays are over, Miss Granger.”

“You’re an atrocious bastard,” she spat, a little surprised at herself for saying so, and she instantly went to cover her mouth with her hand.

“Keep such thoughts to yourself,” he snarled.

“What does it matter? You’re only going to invade my mind and read them anyway.” She danced her hands in front of her face in a mockery and then crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “You haven’t been very helpful at all, sir.” She added.

Why Dumbledore had insisted that she too take lessons from Snape in the art of protecting her mind, Hermione still wasn’t certain. It’s not like she had a direct connection like Harry, or was even really considered a target by Voldemort. She was a known friend of Harry Potter, but that only marked her for certain death, not a session of thoughtful mind reading.

“You’re not trying.” He stated plainly. “Focus your mind. I won’t tell you again.” Again he withdrew his wand and aimed it at her head, but before he could spit the spell from his mouth, Hermione was on her feet.

“Legillimens!” she shouted, blasting her own wand at him. Feeble as her attempt was, she managed to see a few blurs of passing images. Of a circle of masked men, and then a fireplace, which she assumed to be perhaps in Snape’s office, or his personal chambers, and then a woman, naked on a bed, begging for him to come to her, but before she could glean any further, she felt a dark cold swirl around her.

“Out.” He hissed, and she could see, amid the darkness, the tall scowling figure of Severus Snape glaring at her. She seemed to tumble back into reality, literally falling backward onto her arse, the cold stone floor greeting it with a heavy thump. His snarling face was only that much closer now that she had come out of his mind. But he remained silent.

Hermione blinked up at him. She was certain that the first image was the circle of Death Eaters he was forced to frequent and that the second had looked much like an ornate Hogwarts fireplace, but it was the third image that had caught her attention. The woman on the bed, although she hadn’t seen her face, the voice, it was unmistakable. “That was- that was—”

“That’s enough for tonight, Miss Granger. You may have your rest, for the rest of the school year for all I care.” He said and turned on his heal, moving toward the top of the classroom. “You’re dismissed.”

“No,” she said firmly, and then pulled herself up to her feet, moving just as quickly after him. “You’re not going to do to me what you did to Harry. He’s vulnerable because you won’t finish lessons with him all over some dumb memory that—”

“Some dumb memory, Miss Granger, is none of your business. Though I see that in spending all of your time with that blithering idiot, you’ve managed to adapt his qualities for nosing around in business that isn’t yours!”

“Just because I tried to use the same spell on you that you’ve been using on me all night and you weren’t fast enough to block me out doesn’t mean that—”

“That’s enough, Granger!” he was growling now.

“Who was she?” she said, an almost haughty, and a very un-Gryffindor-like sneer coming to her lips.

“None of your business. Leave my classroom. Now.”

“I know who she was.” She said, though her voice shook as she said it.

“Then don’t plague me with stupid questions, you foolish girl. Now get out.”

“What I don’t understand is…” her voice trailed off, and she thought almost complacently for a moment. “How could I see it, if it hasn’t happened?”

Severus was silent, eyes glaring holes through her head as she stood there, smarmy smirk on her lips. Had the room not been deathly silent and she not been watching his lips like a hawk she would have missed his uttered words. “Nothing more than a foolish fantasy,” and then he yelled. “Now get out!”

Hermione nearly flushed a furious shade of crimson but she gathered her backpack on her shoulder and made for the door. She paused, turning to face him. “Professor?” she said in a soft, innocent questioning voice. Silence. She knew he would not so easily take the bait. “Just so you know? My bed sheets aren’t pink and white.” She quickly scurried out the door not caring if it slammed behind her.

~*~

Her lips were gentle as they kissed his forehead, the thoughts of that very first night swimming freely through her mind, and though still warm she could feel what was left of his body temperature slipping from him. “I’m sorry, Severus, I just need a moment,” she whispered in his ear, and then stroked her fingers over his lips, reaching for her wand.