Be Careful in the Dark

Hermione awoke with a sharp jerk. Her heart was racing and the sheet stuck unpleasantly to her sweaty body. Swinging her legs over to one side of her bed, she reached out with shaking fingers and picked up the glass of water on her nightstand. After gulping half of the water down, she wiped her face off.

She didn’t dream of that night with Lucius very often. Her nightmares were so much more often of Draco or Voldemort. Sometimes, she dreamed she was back in her Defense Against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T., only, in her dream, Rastilan didn’t stop.

Hermione sighed and got out of bed. She needed sleep; she really did. But there was no way she was closing her eyes after that… that… Merlin. What if her plan hadn’t worked? What if she’d ended up magically tied to Lucius Malfoy. She gagged a little and put her hands on her stomach. No. It’s fine. I did it. I killed him. It’s fine. It’s fine.

The clock gleamed in the darkness of her room. 5:43. She was meeting Snape in just under three hours.

Though, as disturbing as her dream had been, it gave her a few ideas about her meeting with Snape. Hermione walked into her kitchen to make herself a cup tea, scheming all the way.

XXXXX

When Severus arrived, using the portkey she had provided him, Hermione was already at work. Without speaking, she pointed at the pile of notebooks set on the counter in front of a stool. Severus raised an eyebrow but walked over and began reading.

After a half an hour, Severus cleared his throat. “Your penmanship has gotten even more atrocious since you left Hogwart’s. What does this phrase say?”

Hermione got up and looked at the phrase. “It says I tested the spell on a rat, with no results.”

Severus glared at her. “I was afraid it said that. I thought surely I was mis-reading your terrible handwriting. How can you possibly think you can get decent test results on a rat?”

“What do you suggest Severus? Shall I drag in unsuspecting muggles off the street?” Hermione gave him a sugary smile. “The Ministry might frown on that.”

Severus sneered at her. “The great witch of her age?” He made a snorting sound. “Simulacrum perhaps? Volunteers? Even a monkey would better.”

Hermione stared at him for a heartbeat and then she smiled. “I’m open to suggestions, Severus. After all, that’s what you’re here for.” She looked away and then looked back. “I’m afraid we got off on the wrong foot.” Hermione stepped closer and put her hand on his arm. “After all, I owe you my life. And here, at least, there’s no one to see you be a bastard… so you needn’t bother. We might be able to really do something.”

“I doubt your ability to do much of anything, Ms. Granger.” Severus pointedly removed her hand from his arm and stood, stepping back a pace.

Hermione sighed and then rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Severus. If you keep the act up here, I’m going to be forced to think the whole mean bastard thing is not an act. In which case, I really can’t afford to be working with a triple-spy traitor.” She stepped closer, lowering her eyes and then glancing up at him coquettishly, “and I really would rather be friends… wouldn’t you?”

Severus looked down at her, eyes hooded, his face expressionless. Finally he grated out, “Shadow.”

Shadow threw back her head and laughed.

Severus looked her up and down before asking, “How did you even get in here?”

“A favor, for a friend.” Shadow smiled, boosting herself onto the counter and dangling her legs.

“A friend…” Severus started. Then he stopped, closing his eyes for a moment. “Ms. Granger is the friend.” Then he muttered, “stupid child!”

Grinning, Hermione put her finger on her nose and then shook her finger at Severus. “Now don’t go tattling to Ms. Granger.”

“Why on earth would she allow you,” he let his face show disbelief as he looked her up and down, “access to her precious lab?” Severus walked backwards two steps, shook out his robe smoothly, and sat down on another stool.

“Ms. Granger wants to be certain I can pull off pretending to be her, for a little project she and I have cooking. Who better to fool than you?” Shadow smiled, a little girl smile, and then grinned when Severus curled his lip in disgust at her.

“And yet you have failed.” Severus said, folding his arms and glaring at her. “I don’t see why I should keep your failure secret.”

Shadow shrugged. “Oh, I know I can fool you. I’ve done it several times already. Of course, I didn’t really want to tell her that I was mucking about with her face on without her permission. Tell her, if you like.”

Severus lips were pressed into a flat line. He reached forward, pushing the stool back as he snapped forward to grab her arm, moving fast as snake; he jerked her off the table. “You are a danger to everyone around you!”

Shadow wiggled free, tearing her arm from his fingers. “Now there’s the pot calling the kettle black.” She backed up a couple of steps, until she was far enough away she could be certain she was thinking clearly.

Severus didn’t take his eyes off of her. He gave her nothing in his expression or his body language.

“She trusts you, you know. It’s the damndest thing.” Shadow said, finally. “Doesn’t trust Dumbledore, can’t blame her really. But you...” She let her eyes drift up and down taking his dark form in.

Severus’ eyes flickered, just a flash, but it was enough. Shaking her head, Shadow said, “That pleases you so much you cannot hide it. Severus, if you are what she believes you to be, an opening like that will get you both killed.”

His lips twisted. “Would you believe I did not mean to?”

“How is that possible?” Hermione stared at him. She had been wondering this for months. “You are… you. You’re so slippery and hard to read you keep Voldemort at bay and leave the rest of constantly wondering about your loyalties. By the gods, Severus, you’re the perfect spy.”

Was any way she get into that brain of his? Why did Hermione elicit responses from him that no one else could? For that matter, why did Shadow? Did it count if one person was both of the people who could get under his skin? Was she really getting under his skin? It was strange, that was for sure. In fact, it was downright suspicious. Cold, cruel Snape could be needled to rage over Hermione Granger? It was just too ridiculous. Who could Granger remind him of that he would be so vulnerable?

His shoulders slumped and he looked away, his face emptying of expression. “Perhaps it is a trap.” Severus turned his face back to her with a snarl. “Perhaps I want to lull you into thinking I have a heart when, in fact, I cannot wait to kill you, that brat Potter, and Granger.” He smiled, a broad and vicious smile.

Hermione stared at him for a moment, head tilted, eyes narrow, thinking. At last, she said, “Ms. Granger is, in fact, coming today. She asked me to be away when she arrived, said it was squicky to look at her face on somebody else.” Hermione stepped forward, but didn’t touch him. “Meet me later tonight.” She named a time and a bar, a muggle bar, in London.

Severus stared at her, sneering. “No.” He grated out.

Hermione smirked at him. “As it pleases you, Severus Snape.”

He jerked his head back in surprised and stared at her. He almost opened his mouth to give her the correct, Pureblood response. The muscles in his jaw tightened and he said nothing. Hermione smirked.

She walked away and knew he was staring at her, watching her leave. If it was an act, that hot stare, she was going to have to credit Snape with being the best spy she’d ever met. Of course, she’d probably be dead, his knife sticking out of her back, before she realized it. The thought of that sent sharp sparks of desire through her. Inwardly, she cursed. How sick is that? How can getting knifed in the back be a turn on?

She was going to be at that bar and she had a feeling, Severus was going to be there as well.

XXX

When Hermione, the “real” Hermione arrived, Snape was back to his usual self. They went over her notes, Snape eviscerating her work, her potions in particular. She defended herself, pointing why she had used this ingredient or that charm over another, and pointing out that further into the journal, she had done what he suggested.

Severus was sitting at one of the long tables in the lab they now shared. His quill scratched as he added notes to the research journal. Hermione stared at him, letting her mind wander.

Who was Snape, really? Was it an act when he was such a shit to Hermione or was he acting for Shadow? Or both? The conversation he and Shadow had earlier, it made her think. He had helped her. Not just Shadow. But her, Hermione. That night after, after Lucius, he’d almost been a human being. And then it was right back to being a cruel git. He’d ignored her, talked down to her, made nasty comments to her when she tried to be friendly at Order meetings. She’d known he was going to do it. He’d told her he was going to do it. And she’d reached out, in small ways, because that’s what Hermione would do, the Hermione before the Malfoys, the Hermione without a Shadow self. Maybe the whole thing with Shadow really was a trap. Snape and Alex, together and without knowing it, had help to create Shadow. Did that matter? Did that mean she didn’t really see Snape? Maybe he was behind her walls instead of the other way around, which meant she was vulnerable. Vulnerable to a man who seemed to have no loyalties… except he seemed to really care about Hermione. Round and round her thoughts went while she stared into the space just over Severus’ head.

“Ms. Granger, I will not repeat myself.” Severus snarled at her and Hermione blinked, realizing he had been talking to her.

“Lucius said that to me, once.” She said, her mind flashing back to that day abruptly. She snapped her mouth shut and looked away. Let him chew on that one.

Snape’s face shut down. He said nothing, just sat at his table, looking at her.

Hermione rubbed her face. “I’m sorry. That was,” She shook her head. “You are going to have to repeat yourself. I was miles away.”

Severus looked at her for a long moment and then said, “I said,” twisting his lips, “we’ll be ready to conduct tests in six weeks. And we’re going to have to use something better than a rat!”

Hermione looked at him. He was going to ignore her comment, as he had ignored his rescue of her for years. Exactly as he had promised. She sighed. Severus had been appalled that she’d been testing her results on rats. He didn’t think the test results could be trusted.

Hermione shrugged. “Well, I’m not going to let you imperio me and I very much doubt that you’re going to let me imperio you. So where does that leave us?”

Severus smirked. “Perhaps we should start with the crucio.”

Hermione sighed and nodded. “We’ll take turns.”

Severus sneered at her, “as if you could crucio anyone!”

Hermione glared at him. “You people! Honestly, do you all think I am made of glass?!”

Severus didn’t change his expression, just flicked his eyes down and up, as if to say, yes, I do think you’re weak and helpless.

Hermione gritted her teeth. You’re Hermoine today, not Shadow. She grated out, “We will take turns.”

Severus shrugged one shoulder and turned back to the journal, dismissing her. Hermione tried to get a hold of her temper.

Finally, they hammered out a new research schedule for the next two months. They made certain that work could be done alone, marking the place where two people were required to finish the work. She grudgingly admitted that having a second pair of hands would be useful.

XXXXX

The bar was much more crowded than she had expected. People spilled out into the street, laughing drunkenly and the music was so loud, she could feel it rumbling in her chest before she even made it through the door. When she walked in, she stopped, her stomach sinking. There was no goddamn way Severus Snape would ever set foot in this establishment.

The lighting was low, except for the neon lights over the bar and the flashing lights from the dance floor. There was a sea of people, packed closely to one another. Hermione gritted her teeth; the website for this bar had lied… or at least not told her everything. She had picked it because was centrally located, she and Severus could arrive by any one of a dozen ways, and because it had a unique name. It should be a quiet little pub, not a bar full of drunk university students, mindlessly grinding on one another.

She sighed. Or least, she thought she did. Who could tell in this din? She would check the bar... the club. She had, after all, invited him. Hermione slid through the crowd, pinching and twisting the hands that reached out to cop a feel.

She tried to sigh again. Tonight, of all nights, she had decided to go for more of a va-va-voom look and now she was paying for it. Usually, she kept her looks normal, so she could blend in wherever she needed too. It wasn’t like whipping up these disguises was a piece of cakes. Her appearance tonight, though, was not for blending: black hair, blue eyes, hour glass figure, and a killer pout. She’d dressed a classy little black dress and put her hair up; she looked about ten years too old for this place, not that this stopped anyone from reaching out and trying to pinch her bottom.

There. Severus was here, sitting, ramrod straight, at the end of the bar. He had a two-foot radius of empty space in all directions. Excitement pooled between her legs. Hermione glanced around and grinned when she spotted the flickering exit sign at the back of the bar.

He spotted her, four or five feet from where he was sitting, and the look he shot her was black with rage. She jerked her head in the direction of the exit sign. Severus’ lifted his eyebrows at her and sneered. Hermione smiled back at him. This was going to work.

She walked past him, now studiously ignoring him. He rotated in his seat and followed behind her. The space where he had been sitting filled rapidly with people demanding drinks.

Hermione looked around and then ducked out through an exit door at the back, into the alley.

When Severus exited, she beckoned him back further into the alley. He followed, face pinched in disapproval. He opened his mouth to speak and she held up her hand, shaking her head. Shadow whispered a quick spell to set wards around them, because she wasn’t an idiot. She didn’t spell for privacy or silence; neither did Severus.

She stepped forward, tugging him out of the light by his belt. She pulled his shirt loose and let her hands roam over his skin. Her fingers skimmed, undoing the buttons of his shirt until the pale skin of his chest was exposed. “No spell on your buttons tonight, Severus? So trusting.”

Severus scowled and backed her up against the wall. His fingers dug into her upper arms and she exhaled sharply as she ran up against the brick. “Shut up!” Severus hissed, just before kissing her fiercely.

Hermione groaned and threw herself into the kiss. The thrill of getting caught tore through her, caught by some muggle, by any of their many enemies, or caught by him, her enemy-cum-ally. Danger, always danger. Hermione shuddered. She was already so wet.

His hands roamed over her skin, pinching and petting, her dress offering little protection. With shaking fingers, she tore at his belt buckle. It came loose and she wasted no time unzipping his slacks, shoving garments out of the way, until she could slide her hands along his growing length. She looked up at him, meeting his dark eyes, as she wrapped her fingers around his cock and began to stroke up and down.

Without breaking eye contact, Severus reached down and evanesco’ed her panties away. His long fingers parted her folds and then he slid one long finger inside her. She writhed under his touch as he worked his finger in and out, pressing his palm against her clitoris. This didn’t stop her from moving her fingers over the sensitive underside of his cock. He groaned, bucking his hips against her hand, and she laughed, breathless and aroused.

He pulled his hand away and she made a sharp noise of distress. It was his turn to laugh as he dug his fingers into her hips and lifted her. He pushed her firmly against the wall as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Hermione wriggled her slick pussy against his hardness until the head was just inside the folds of her sex.

Severus bent forward until he could capture his lips with his and then he drove into her in one smooth motion. Pleasure flushed through her body and she pushed against him, demanding a steady rhythm. Each time his body neared hers, she rocked her center against his abdomen, panting as her desire intensified. The pleasure built until the waves rolled together and over her. Hermione buried her face against his shoulder to muffle her cry as she came. Severus continued to stroke into her, each stroke sending a shock wave of pleasure that was almost pain, until he too, shuddered and came with a hoarse cry.

They separated awkwardly, Hermione trying to find the ground with her unsteady legs and Severus trying to keep his pants up around his hips. Hermione kept her eyes to herself as she straightened her clothing and caught her breath. Severus was finishing the last of his buttons when she turned to look at him. His hair was mussed and, even in the dim alley light, his face was flushed.

She opened her mouth to say… something, anything... when Severus said, without looking up, “let’s not say anything, shall we?”

Hermione stared at him, frowning. Finally, she nodded and released the wards. “Lead the way, Severus.” She gave him what she hoped was a mocking little bow.

Severus shot her a sharp glare before stalking away. He didn’t look back. Hermione frowned at his retreating back, feeling much less satisfied than she had been before he’d opened his big, stupid gob. She exited the area, scanning the shadows with her physical and magical senses, suspicious and alert.

XXXXX

The next morning, Harry and Ron showed up on her doorstep. Hermione opened the door and said, “Harry, this is starting to be a pattern.”

Harry shot her and apologetic glance as he walked in. He set a folded piece of paper down on the table. Ron leaned in the doorway of the kitchen, his mouth pressed so flat that he had white lines around his nose and mouth.

“Go on, ‘Mione. Open it.” Ron said, jerking his head at the paper.

Hermione opened the piece of paper and read the name written in a jittery scrawl. Pain flared between her eyes and she doubled over. “Jesus fucking Christ!” Hermione barked. She pressed her lips together, forcing herself not to vomit. Harry and Ron, wisely, said nothing and waited for her to gain control over the pain. After a couple of minutes, Hermione sat up, her body wracked with shivers, and wiped a hand over her face. She was unsurprised when she looked down and saw blood, bright and glistening, on her fingers.

Harry pulled a kitchen towel out of a drawer and handed it to her. Hermione cleaned the blood that burst from her nose and then wiped her hand off.

Hermione asked, her voice cracking with the effort to keep it even, “who figured it out?”

Ron snorted, “Luna Lovegood.”

The backlash of the broken spell was fading, but instead of feeling better, panic and terror rose up in place of the pain.

“Lucius Malfoy is the Reaper?” Hermione said. Saying it out loud made it worse. This was so fucking fucked up.

Harry and Ron nodded.

Hermione nodded, licking her lips over and over. She put a hand on her stomach, trying to calm down.

“How the fuck did Snakeface accomplish this?” Hermione finally asked.

Ron shrugged and looked down.

Harry pulled a folder out of his robe. “We don’t know. But we know how he’s maintaining it.”

With shaking fingers, she opened the folder. Hermione skimmed the words of the report from the Ministry of Magic, outlining the items that had been destroyed in the Death Eater attack a couple of months back. All of the items on the inventory had either be located or the pieces had been identified with one exception: a dark unicorn horn. There was as sketch of the horn, black as ink with red runes written at the bottom. The horn, recovered several years ago in a raid, was believed to be well over 600 years old and to have once belonged to the infamous witch only knows as “La Signore del Gioco”. The auror who wrote the report believed that the horn most likely could be used to drain a victim in order to extend the life of the one in possession of the horn. And, in fact, the horn was imbued with so much dark magic, the aurors had been forced to keep the horn in a special casing. Like many of the items in that section of the Ministry, the horn was to be destroyed, just as soon as someone figured out how to do it without leveling a building or two with the magical backlash.

Hermione closed the file, noticing that her fingers were still shaking. She felt numb. “So, what you are telling me, Voldemort b-b-b-rought back Lucius Malfoy and is now draining people of… of… life or whatever to keep him alive?”

Harry and Ron were staring at her, their eyebrows pulled together tightly in concern.

Hermione stood up. Harry started to get up, to follow her, and Hermione held one hand up. She fled to the bathroom, slammed the door shut, and proceeded to vomit until her eyes, nose, and throat burned. Then, she heaved a little more.