Saving your life

He stood on the sidewalk across the street; not close enough to hear, but at least he could see them through the large window. Kingsley was sitting with his back to the window, Hermione facing him.

He wasn’t even sure why he had followed them, really. Everything that day had been outside the realm of normal, and most of his reactions were not at all like him.

First, early that morning, she had stormed into the meeting and slapped him in front of everyone. Who the bloody hell did she think she was? True, he had been saying some nasty things about her, but that was nothing new. Besides, what was he supposed to say? He needed to convince Kingsley and the others that they couldn’t trust Draco Malfoy, no matter what she said, or how much she claimed the boy had helped her. He was a Death Eater, and knew Snape was really working for the Order. He had to be stopped before it was too late.

After that, she had started yelling at him, and he knew if he didn’t act fast, everyone would know the truth, that they had been involved, that he had been the one that had erased her memories. He needed to silence her, but it didn’t look as if she was about to stop the ranting, so he had to act before it was too late. Granted, taking her away might not had been the best idea, but what else could he do, hex her into silence? He did not even want to imagine what would happen if the truth about them was discovered.

Again, he had lost control around her. The weeks he had been without her had seemed eternal, and now that she remembered everything that had happened, he hadn’t been able to hold back any more. His resolution had slipped a few times in the past, those moments when he had let his guard down, with a part of him wanting things to be like before. Those times he had kissed her, it had taken all his resolve and self control to pull back, and he had had to remind himself he was doing it for her. Few things in his entire life had put his self control to the test the way she had, the way she still did.

He had seen her pain afterwards, and he knew she was right to blame him for what had happened, but he had done what he had thought was right at the time, why couldn’t she understand that? He had taken those memories away to save her, to give her a better chance at life. She had no idea how much that had cost him, the kind of anger he had had to face for not being able to take her dead body to his Master, as he had been ordered to. It would have all been worth it if she had taken the opportunity he was offering, if she had moved on with her life. But she hadn’t; he should have seen that coming.

He had been surprised when Kingsley had called, since they had had a meeting barely hours before, and more so when Hermione stood in front of him, saying she had been the one the Auror had contacted him for, that they needed to talk. After what had happened earlier, he had thought she wouldn’t want to see him, at least for some time.

As soon as she had started speaking, he knew going there had been a mistake. Draco Malfoy again. Why was she so convinced he wanted to help her? What the boy wanted was a chance to have his way with her. He knew what he was like, knew how his mind worked. The previous night, after killing Bellatrix, he had been too concerned about Hermione’s health to even try and stop him from running away, but he wouldn’t let that happen again. That boy knew too much, had seen too much, and could easily ruin everything he had been working for, for years. Next time they met, would be the last.

Then she had shown him one of the Dark Lord’s Horcruxes, one she said Draco had managed to get for her. Was there more to the boy than he thought? Was that just another trick to fool her? He had seen the boy cared about her, or at least he thought he did, but Severus knew he cared more about himself. He probably didn’t know what he had just handed the enemy, how important that simple cup was. If the Dark Lord found out…

But why couldn’t she see Draco for what he really was? Why was she so convinced he wanted to help the light? She thought he cared about her, that much was rather obvious, but what did she feel for him? Not that it mattered to him, of course. Why would he care about how she felt? Why should he? He had no claim over her, and wasn’t sure he even wanted to.

Still, Severus had given her up because that way she was safer, not so that she could be with another Death Eater. Not with Draco Malfoy. How could she just forget the way the boy had treated her for years, and the way he had lied to her the last few weeks? He didn’t deserve her; she was too good for him.

Trying to win her back was tempting. If she would end up with a man that was not good for her, then why shouldn’t that man be him? But too much had happened between them, too many secrets, too many lies. She would never forgive him for it, and he would never ask her to.

He had stood behind her as she showed him the cup and explained what had happened, but it wasn’t easy to concentrate with her so close. He could feel the heat of her skin, even though he wasn’t touching her. He could smell that sweet scent, and couldn’t help remembering the one time he had woken up to it.

She had asked him to help Draco again then, as if that cup was proof enough of the boy’s intentions. Did she always think the best of people? That would explain why she had trusted Severus, believed everything he had said when everyone else had thought him a traitor, a murderer. She had helped him without asking questions, she had simply believed in him. It was dangerous, and foolish; trusting people that way would get her killed.

For her, he had agreed to give the boy a chance. He owed her a lot more than that. Her voice had been low as she had thanked him, and his name had easily slipped from her lips, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He couldn’t tear his eyes off her; that flush in her cheeks, those red lips moving sensuously as they mouthed his name, her eyes lit with determination. She looked so beautiful. Not sure what he was doing or why, he had leaned forward to kiss her, but she had pulled back, realizing what was about to happen in the very last second; it would seem she was finding controlling herself almost as hard as he did.

Then she had left the room, walking after Kingsley, going out “for a few drinks.” What the hell did he think he was doing? He had seen the way Kingsley behaved around her, and knew perfectly well what he wanted. He was just taking advantage of her state, her vulnerability. He was a grown man, head Auror; he should have more sense than that.

What he had done next had been as much of a surprise to her as it had been to him. He didn’t know what he wanted to achieve by it; maybe simply show Kingsley he couldn’t have Hermione, that she was with him; but was she? He hadn’t considered his actions until after it was done, when he had seen the anger in her face; no matter what he did, he always ended up hurting her.

But he didn’t know how to act, how to do things differently, how to make it better; he had never found himself in this position before, had never wanted to.

He had been with other women, but none of them had meant a thing to him; and the one he had cared about, the one he had trusted, the one he had never had, had chosen someone else; had betrayed his love and friendship when he was still too young to understand. At the time, he had thought himself in love; now he knew better. He wasn’t sure how he felt for Hermione, he didn’t think himself capable of love, not after everything he had seen, after everything he had done, but he did know the way he felt now had nothing to do with anything he had felt before. The other woman looked so unimportant in comparison, resembling more a youthful crush than anything else, and certainly nothing deeper than that.

Even when he knew that, he had no idea what he should do about it.

He, Severus Snape, confused? Even the thought was laughable. But it was the truth, and it was all her fault, her doing.

Across the street, behind the window, he saw her eyes lit in amusement at something Kingsley said, and then start to laugh. So free, so happy. So beautiful.

He might not be right for her, but neither was Draco. And neither was Kingsley.

She was talking animatedly, her hands moving around in big gestures as she spoke, and he found himself wondering what she was saying. A part of him wished it was him, and not Kingsley, the one she was talking to so freely. After a few moments, she rested her hands back on the table, and he saw the Auror reach forward and rest one of his hands on top of hers. She continued talking, as if nothing had happened, but pulled both hands away, pretending to fix her hair before placing them on her lap.

A smirk crept to his face at the sight. Maybe he needn’t have worried about him so soon.

A flash of pain on his forearm brought him back to reality; his Master was calling.

“Severus,” he heard him say, as soon as he stepped into headquarters. He could see the tension, and knew something was wrong. “Follow me,” Voldemort hissed, and walked down the hallway, until he reached his studio.

“You wanted to see me, my Lord?” he said, as soon as they were both inside.

“Of course I did,” Voldemort replied, banging the door shut with a flick of his wand. “Why else would I have summoned you here?”

“Certainly, Master,” he replied, bowing slightly. He knew better than to say anything else when Voldemort was that upset.

“Where have you been?” he asked, and Severus could hear the anger in his voice. “I was told you left moments after arriving back from your mission yesterday, and no one has seen you since.”

Severus remained silent for a few moments, not sure what to say, and that seemed to be enough to further anger Voldemort. With a flick of his wand, he sent him flying across the room, his head banging hard against the wall, before landing on the floor, so close to the fireplace his sleeve caught fire and started burning his arm. He pushed himself away fast, using his other hand to extinguish the fire before standing tall again. He knew better than to try to heal himself in front of the Dark Lord, so he just stood straight.

“Answer me!” Voldemort screamed then.

“I was summoned by one of the Aurors from the Order.”

“Why did you not inform me of this?”

“I did not think it was important,” he said, bowing slightly, but that didn’t seem to help calm his anger. Voldemort stepped closer to him, and with another flick of his wand send the piles of books lying on the desk flying in his direction. Severus tried to use his arms to protect himself, but one of the books hit him square on the face, and he could feel a trickle of blood falling from his broken nose. Another book hit his eyebrow, the blood blinding one of his eyes.

“That is up to me to decide. I sent three of my Death Eaters on a mission last night, after you left. None of them returned. Would you happen to know anything about that?”

“No, Master,” he replied, and watched him walk over to where he was standing and stop in front of him. His black eyes met red ones, and then he felt Voldemort prod his mind, trying to see what he was hiding. With practiced ease, Severus showed him what he wanted him to see, and hid the truth away again. He knew Occlumency would not keep him safe forever; Voldemort would find out the truth sooner or later.

“I sent other Death Eaters to look for them this morning,” he said, appearing to calm down slightly, “but all they found was a few faint traces of Magic. I assume you know nothing about that either.”

“You think something happened to them? Could it be that they were just too cowardly to remain faithful to you, Master? That maybe they simply ran away?” he asked, careful to sound respectful as he spoke.

“No,” Voldemort replied, dryly. “Bellatrix was with them. If they have not yet returned, then something must have happened.”

“No one in the Order mentioned anything about an attack.”

“That kind of information, they would keep secret. I want to know what happened.”

“I have gained their complete trust, Master. If they know something, I will find out. Maybe it was the Ministry’s doing?”

“None of my informants provided any useful information.”

“May I ask where they were sent, what the mission entailed?”

“You have already been told all you need to know. Now I want…” he started, but fell silent when the door opened.

“Master?” a hesitant voice came from the other side, as a masked man peered inside the room.

“I believe I said no interruptions,” Voldemort hissed angrily, turning to the man and aiming his wand straight to his chest. Severus watched silently as the man fell to the floor, screams echoing around the room as his body shook.

“I am sorry, Master,” the masked man replied, gasping for breath, his voice barely a whimper. It was shameful. “But I thought…”

Stupid. That was the only word that could describe him; being a Death Eater he should know better than that. Another flash of light hit him, and more screams reached Severus’ ears.

“I do not care what you think,” Voldemort spat angrily, as he lifted the curse. You are not to interrupt me.”

“Yes, Master. I am sorry, Master,” he said, trying to get up and bow deeply at the same time. His legs were still weak from the effects of the spell, and he stumbled twice before he managed to get on his feet.

“What is it that you want?” Voldemort asked him then, in an almost bored tone, an evil smirk crossing his face as he watched the man stammer, trying to answer and at the same time fearing he would be cursed again.

“We w-went looking for the Malfoys and Lestrange as y-you ordered, Master.”

Voldemort didn’t speak or even motion for him to continue, he simply stared at him in silence. The man began stuttering again.

“W-We found Rabastan, M-Master, but Lucius’ wife and son are g-gone.”

“Gone?”

“No one has se-seen them, My Lord. I-in fact, no one has seen Lucius’ s-son for a few d-days now.”

The anger was back in Voldemort eyes, and Severus remained silent as the dark wizard waved his wand once more, sending the Death Eater flying out of the room, making him hit the wall on the hallway and fall unconscious to the ground. Then, he spelled the door shut once more, and turned to Severus again.

“What is going on?” he asked. Severus had only seen him that angry a few times, the memories still firmly etched on his mind.

“I do not know, Master.”

“I find that hard to believe, Severus. You seem to know everything that happens.”

“I can contact the Order if you like, Master. Find out what happened, and if they had anything to do with it.”

“You and Bellatrix were not on friendly terms, were you?”

“No, my Lord. She refused to believe I was a faithful Death Eater, even though I have proved my loyalties many times.”

“She blamed you for what happened to her husband and Lucius. She had asked me, repeatedly, to ‘dismiss’ you, and now she suddenly vanishes from the face of the earth. Highly suspicious, would you not agree?”

“I would not do anything to harm her without you permission, Master. I am loyal to you above all else.”

Again, he felt Voldemort enter his mind, and he concentrated on creating the images he needed to show him, to try to convince him he had had nothing to do with her sudden disappearance. Severus showed him Bellatrix taunting him, provoking him, and him ignoring her every time. Part of it was true, but most of it was set up to show her abusing the trust Voldemort had given her, the power she had and used over the other Death Eaters because of their Master’s favours.

“You will find out what happened, Severus,” Voldemort said, after a few moments. “I want you to find the Malfoys as well.”

“Yes, Master,” he replied, bowing.

“There is no time to waste; if you do not give me answers tonight, then I will have to send someone else, and you would not want that to happen,” he threatened.

“I will not disappoint you, My Lord,” he said.

“What are you waiting for?” he spat then, spelling the door back open. Without wasting another moment, Severus stepped out of the room, paying the other Death Eaters no mind as he made his way to the door and left headquarters. There was a lot to do, and he only had a few hours. He had to act fast.

The first thing he needed to do was find Draco. He was sure the boy was responsible for his mother’s disappearance, and he needed to know if he was really willing to switch sides, or if he should simply hand him over to Voldemort. He had to talk to the Order too, but that could wait.

Wrapping his fingers firmly around his wand, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the small café Kingsley had taken Hermione to, but as soon as he Apparated there he noticed they were gone. Although a part of him had hoped they would still be there, now that he had a good excuse to storm inside and take Hermione away, he knew that was probably not the best idea; especially considering the way he must look, bruised and bleeding. He decided to Apparate to the Order’s headquarters, in case they were back there, before resorting to dark magic and tracking spells.

As soon as he stepped into the house he saw Kingsley standing in the hallway, Molly right next to him.

“Where is she?” Severus asked, interrupting them.

“What? Severus, what happened to you?” Molly asked worriedly, but his eyes were fixed on Kingsley as he repeated the question.

“What has happened?” the Auror asked, but Severus simply shook his head. “I don’t think there is anything you need to discuss with her,” he continued, neither of them paying Molly any attention when she asked what was going on.

“That is not up to you to decide. Where is she?”

“Who?” Molly asked, confused, and seeing Kingsley was not about to answer, he turned to the witch instead.

“Miss Granger.”

“Hermione? What do you need her for? I think you should go see a healer, Severus.”

“I need to speak to her now, where is she?” he insisted.

“I believe she is in her room, she should be back in j… Severus?”

But he wasn’t listening to her any more, nor was he paying attention to Kingsley, who was trying to stop him as he made his way for the stairs. When the Auror stepped in front of him, Severus quickly drew his wand and aimed it at him menacingly.

“Do not test my patience, Shacklebolt,” he hissed in warning, before hastily walking past him and up the stairs. As soon as he reached the top floor, he turned to her bedroom, opened the door, stepped inside, and charmed it shut again.

A loud gasp made him turn around, only to find himself face to face with a shocked Hermione. It took him a few seconds to realize she only had her underwear on, and then it took all his concentration to stop his eyes from shamelessly roaming her exposed body. After a few seconds, he heard voices outside, and someone banging on the door, and without turning around, he cast a silencing spell on the room. That seemed to bring her back to reality.

“Dear Merlin, what has happened to you?” she asked worriedly, reaching for the robes lying on the bed and putting them on before walking over to him.

“It is nothing,” he said dismissively. “We need to talk.”

“But you are bleeding,” she said, reaching for her wand and turning back to him. “What happened?”

“The Dark Lord found out Bellatrix is gone. He was not in the best of moods.”

“Does he know?” she asked, and he could hear the fear in her voice. But what was she scared of? Voldemort would never know she had had anything to do with it. Could it be that she was scared for him? He shook his head, both in answer to her question and his own, and heard her sigh in relief.

“Sit,” she said, and when he did now move, she reached for his hand. He hissed in pain and pulled his burnt arm away, startling her. “Oh, I am sorry,” she gasped. “Merlin, what has he done to you?” she muttered to herself, as she took a closer look at his arm.

“Nothing that is life threatening.”

“Oh, stop that already. Sit down so I can heal the cuts,” she said, but didn’t attempt to take his hand again. With a sigh, he stepped closer to the bed and sat.

“What was his excuse this time then, if he didn’t know you had killed Bellatrix?” she asked, as she kneeled next to him on the bed and started healing the wounds. The entire situation was so familiar. Many times she had helped him that way, had stood by his side, asking questions out of curiosity and not to judge him. He hadn’t realized how much he missed those better times.

“He doesn’t need an excuse. You may not understand, but the only reason he didn’t kill me today just because, is that he trusts me.”

“How could you ever believe in him, ever been loyal to such a monster?” she asked, and he stiffened.

“The kind of power he possesses, the way he sells his ideas; it is seducing. It takes time to realize what it really is about, and by then you are in too deep, and there is no way out.”

She remained silent for a few moments, as she carefully waved her wand and fixed his broken nose. It was painful, but he did not complain. He enjoyed having her that close, and the fact that they were talking, and not fighting.

“Give me your arm,” she said, after a few moments. “I am not sure I can heal this,” she told him, taking a closer look, careful not to touch the burnt skin.

He didn’t say anything, just reached for his wand and waved it over the arm, making the burns vanish. Startled, she looked at him for a moment, and then back at the now perfect skin on his arm.

“You will have to teach me to do that, sometime,” she said with a small smile before standing up again. “So, is there a reason why you stormed into my bedroom as if you owned it, and locked everyone else outside?” she asked, but with no trace of anger in her voice.

“As I said before, I needed to speak to you,” he answered, standing up as well.

“What about?”

“I need to see Draco.”

“What?”

“The Dark Lord has many questions and some of them only Draco can answer.”

“No way,” she said, shaking her head.

“Excuse me?”

“No, it will not happen.”

“I am not asking for your permission, Miss Granger,” he said, just as calmly as before. “You wanted me to help him, did you not? You want him to stay alive. I need to speak with him, and it has to be now.”

“Why?” she asked, and he tilted his head to the side, considering the question.

“The Dark Lord sent Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters on a mission, and now they are missing. He also knows Draco and his mother cannot be found. He only gave me a few hours to learn what is going on. I need to speak to him now.”

“How do I know you won’t just turn him in, and that you won’t hand him over to get killed?”

“You don’t,” he said simply. “But if you want my help, then you will tell me how to find him.” She looked at him for a few moments, a thoughtful look on her face. “You asked me to trust you, now I ask the same of you.”

She remained silent another moment, then nodded and turned around. He waited as she walked to the desk by the window, opened the top drawer and retrieved something golden. Then she walked back to him and he could see she was holding a galleon in her hand.

“What is that?” he asked.

Instead of answering, she reached for her wand and tapped the golden coin once. Silent, she kept her eyes fixed on the galleon, and after a few moments she reached for his arm and placed the coin on the palm of his hand.

“What is it?” he repeated, taking a closer look.

“It is a Portkey. It will be activated in two minutes, and it will take you to him.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know, but you don’t need to worry about that. No one else will be there. Will you help him, then?” she asked.

“That will depend on what he says, and how willing he is to cooperate.”

He felt the coin grow hot against his hand then, and looked at her one last time before being transported away.