Vampyre

Chapter Five
It Was Only In My Head

Hermione cautiously entered the tomb, puzzled as to why the lock had opened on its own. It was quiet and her flowers were undisturbed in their vase at the foot of the coffin.

She stood still and listened, straining her ears for the sound she’d heard the night before. Her heart was racing, as it was a bit unnerving to be here after dark.

Minutes ticked by and there was no sound other than the crackle and pop of the flames in the wall sconces.

Slowly, Hermione placed her hands on the coffin lid, the polished surface strangely warm underneath her fingers.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Professor. I had to prove something to myself. I heard something in here yesterday and wanted to make sure nothing was wrong. Somehow I feel like I should protect you and I can’t explain it.”

Hermione knew full well if the Professor were alive he would be disgusted with her for rambling and wasting his time. Where he was now, time didn’t matter whether it was wasted or not.

“I will always come and visit you since I know you have no family. I know you didn’t like me, but I did like you.” That wasn’t exactly true, but Hermione was not ready to face certain things that she was trying to forget about. “You would be proud of me, even if you didn’t say so. I passed my N.E.W.T.S. and was asked to teach potions. I accepted, not because I wanted to but because of you. I promise that I won’t disappoint you.”

It was weird to be talking to a dead wizard, and Hermione removed a single white rose from the vase, placing it on top of the coffin.

“I’ll be back soon. And you won’t have to worry about your students. I will uphold the same standards you started.”

A low rumble of thunder caught Hermione’s attention. The last thing she wanted to do was to be caught in the tomb during a thunderstorm. She hurried to the door and down the steps just as a few big drops of rain began to fall. The door of the tomb clanging shut and locking behind her was something she missed because the next rumble of thunder was followed by a loud crack of lightning that lit up the black sky.

She fled across the grass, back to Hogwarts.

At the edge of the forbidden forest, long elegant fingers wrapped around the trunk of a tree. Black eyes glowed slightly red and followed the retreating figure of the curly haired young woman in silence.

~*~*~

“You were wrong, Mr. Slytherin,” Hermione said firmly as she hung up her cape.

“If you are going to persist in staying here, I suppose that you may refer to me as Salazar,” Salazar said grudgingly. He was beginning to have some admiration for the girl’s spirit.

“There is nothing in that tomb. I checked. There was no sound there but the sound from the torches.”

“I told you to stay away. You do not want to know what lurks there. I want you to promise me that you will not go back there.”

“I can’t promise you that. I promised the Professor that I would keep visiting him.”

“His name is Severus, and you don’t need to visit him.”

“Calling him Severus would be disrespectful.”

“You just called him Severus.”

Blast, Salazar did not miss anything. Actually, Hermione liked the sound of the Professor’s given name on her tongue. She opened a drawer to take out a clean nightgown and her fingers encountered something hard.

Curious, she peered into the drawer. In the bottom lay Severus’ wand. Hermione lifted it out carefully. It wasn’t good to handle another witch or wizards wand.

“His wand should have gone with him,” she said softly, more to herself than to Salazar, who was watching her.

“He does not need it, and do not get any ideas about taking it to him. You are never to open the coffin. Do you understand me?”

“Why are you so vehement about my being near his coffin? He can’t harm anyone. I think the wand should have been in the coffin with him. I wonder how many more of his things are still here.” Hermione rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

“Mrrrrrrrrr,” Crookshanks rubbed against her legs.

“Not now, Crooks,” she said, starting to open drawers and look inside. The third drawer of the large chest still held a stack of neatly folded white shirts, crisply ironed. Hermione removed one, shook it out, and sniffed it. Though it had been laundered, the smell that she associated with Severus still clung to it. “Looks like I have a new nightgown.”

“Don’t wear that,” Salazar hissed. “Get rid of all his things, snap the wand, burn it, do something with it, just don’t keep any of it.”

“You know what? You’re getting on my nerves.” Hermione pointed her wand at a spare blanket that was folded in a chair, and it flew across the room, covering Salazar up.

Muffled protests were covered by the blanket.

“There. That should take care of you for awhile. I’m going to take a bath.”

Hermione grinned at her evilness as she sank into a hot tub of water and sighed with delight. Down in the dungeons you couldn’t hear the rain outside but it was comforting knowing it was out there and she was dry inside.

As she relaxed, her mind did as well and she dozed off without realizing it.

~*~*~

Rain was pouring and mist rolled over the ground. Hermione was running through the rain wearing only her white nightgown, not caring if she were soaked or not. Bare feet padded up the steps to the tomb where the door was open. As she entered, it closed.

The coffin stood open, and it was empty.

“Severus.”

Hermione panicked, thinking someone had stolen his body. She had to get help. She must get help. She could not let him go; she would never let him go. He was her one love, the one hidden love she’d had since her second year, and she must stay close to him. She’d never told anyone how she felt, especially not Ron and Harry. All this time she’d told her self it wasn’t true but she at last admitted it was. She loved Severus Snape.

“My love,” she cried, as tears flowed and she turned to run for help.

“Hermione.”

She was caught up against a lean but sturdy chest. Hermione looked up into familiar black eyes that were now rimmed in dark red around the blacker pupils.

“You’re alive. I have to tell you, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

She pushed upward on her bare toes to press her lips against his.

“Yes, that’s right. Come to me,” he whispered. “I need you.”

“Don’t leave me, Severus. Promise me that you will never leave me again.”

“It is impossible for me to ever leave.”

“This was all a bad dream, wasn’t it? You’re not really dead, I’m just asleep and I dreamed it all.”

His lips brushed her neck and lingered on the pulse to her throat.

“Yes, my darling. Touch me, love me. I’ve wanted you for so long,” Hermione begged.

He grunted something unintelligible and she felt the warmth of his tongue, licking along her pulse line. His broad hands were on her sides, moving up and down, comforting her.

Hermione’s head fell back and she felt dizzy and out of control. Her fingers tangled in the hair of his head as she pressed closer to his body. It was sheer ambrosia to be in his arms and all her inhibitions and cautions abandoned.

~*~*~

Hermione jerked rudely awake, spluttering water. She’d fallen asleep in the tub, and managed to sink below the water. Her heart was pounding madly, and her eyes were tearing. She’d been dreaming.

She held onto the sides of the tub, trying to clear her head of the fogginess that was still there. Goose bumps covered her naked body and her nipples were hard as pebbles and aching.

“Merlin’s balls,” she swore, coming to her knees and then her feet, water cascading off her and making her shiver. Maybe Salazar was right. She should stay away from the tomb if this was going to be the result.

The dream was impossible. The dead did not live unless they were a ghost, and so far she’d seen no ghost. Hermione rubbed herself extra hard with the towel trying to bring warmth back into her skin but she was still cold as she slid Severus’ shirt over her head. It fell to her knees and the soft cotton felt good.

Crookshanks was already curled up invitingly on the bed when Hermione came back into the bedroom. Salazar was still muttering threats under the blanket which she ignored. A quick drying charm allowed her to brush her hair out and she extinguished all but one lamp before getting in bed and huddling under the covers.

She lay in the dim darkness for a long time, trying to puzzle out the meaning of her dream. Hermione shouldn’t have done this, as the content of the dream aroused her, and she found it hard to keep from caressing her nether parts with her fingers.

Her pubescent fantasies had been not of Ron but of Severus Snape as she’d grown up. She’d lost count of how many nights she had imagined those sensual hands on her body, touching and exploring. Hermione had some pretty intense orgasms this way. Now that Severus was dead, there was no chance of her ever having fulfillment but it didn’t stop her fantasies, especially not after her dream.

She yawned and stretched, wishing she had the ability to bring him back as she fell asleep.

~*~*~

The bat lurking in the lower hallways of Hogwarts needed his wand as he resumed his human form. Wandless magic was of no use where wards on rooms were concerned.

Severus stood staring at the doorway to his rooms, his need for blood thundering through his veins. Hermione Granger had been the last person he would have ever suspected had feelings for him.

Oh, he’d been aware of her there, ever since his body had been brought back to the hospital wing. He’d felt her pain, felt her heartbeat, heard her thoughts without the use of his own abilities. They’d been transmitted to him just as if he’d been inside her head.

The love that Severus had felt radiating from Hermione’s heart had wrapped itself around the blackness of his soul and warmed his cold body. Inside the coffin, he’d found him self willing her to open it, to touch him. The need to nurse on her blood was strong, and the need to mate even stronger.

Granger was a virgin, contrary to the fact that he had foolish assumed that she’d given herself to the idiot Weasley boy. No witch had ever wanted Severus Snape, let alone saved herself for him. This one had. Had he known this when he’d been alive, he would have been appalled for a while before having to investigate.

Such as it was, Severus was discovering that his new life had changed certain aspects of the wizard he was. When Lucius Malfoy had been found dead on the battlefield during the war, everyone had assumed a killing curse had taken his life.

Not so, Severus had found when he himself was attacked by Lucius several days ago. Lucius Malfoy was now a vampire, leader of a group of Voldemort’s followers who were determined to resurrect their lord. Lucius was dangerous, blood starved, and needed to be destroyed for the safety of all concerned. Voldemort’s body, or what was left of it, had been preserved in a secret place awaiting its resurrection.

Severus had passed out temporarily, only to find himself immobile and unable to move or respond when Remus had taken him back to Hogwarts. It wasn’t until after the funeral, when darkness had fallen, that he found he could move and function fairly normally. The fangs of the vampire only grew when he needed to feed, and he’d done that for the first time the night before. He’d gone to London and stolen from a blood bank rather than kill someone.

The blood he’d stolen would last a while, but he had not counted on his intense need for the blood of Hermione. Her heart had joined with his and they’d beat in tandem the night before. It was close to dusk, and she’d run from the tomb just as Severus was being released from the bonds of his catatonic-like state.

He did not dare rap at the door, not now. For now, he would have to bide his time. Patience was one of his virtues. He would catch her out, and he would have her. She would be his.