Brewing Glory

For the next few days, Snape spent time with Hermione going over the spells they had learned in the time she had spent living with him. He had taught her spells to shield herself from the forces of evil, which ended up in her almost cracking her head open and him almost breaking his arm. They spent mornings drinking coffee, Hermione spent afternoons reading books, Snape teaching classes, and evenings they took part in making delicate and tactful potions. More often, they took part in conversations about upcoming events and what would happen once she was healed. The training in process was not an easy one and one that found Snape wanting to jinx himself many a time. All in all, the two of them better understood each other and realized they were more alike than they knew. Some evenings, when the potions were being left to sit for a certain amount of times, they would sit in his rooms and read books as the fire crackled quietly beside them. The both of them found it rather peaceful and relaxing.

One night, while she was skimming through a copy of Advanced Potion Making from her sixth year, and he was reading an old, dusty book that’s front cover was unreadable, he stopped abruptly, dropping the book to his feet.

Hermione looked up in alarm at her Professor. She had been lying on the floor reading the book a few feet away from his arm chair. She looked up to see his face white with shock, his right palm covering his left forearm. Just then she instantly knew what was happening and felt a stab in her chest.

Snape got up quickly, going over to one of his cabinets and shuffling quickly through its contents. He pulled out a long black robe and his Death Eater mask and turned to face Hermione. She began to get up but he stopped her.

“Not this time, you stay here,” he snapped, pulling the robe around him and stuffing the mask within one of its pockets.

Hermione stood anyway, taking a few steps closer to him. “Why? Won’t he want me to be there?”

“Not this time,” Snape repeated, his voice almost reaching a snarl. He searched around the room for his wand before he found it lying on one of his bookshelves and he stuffed it into his pocket. He turned to leave but Hermione found herself telling him to wait.

“Just let me go with you,” Hermione pleaded. Why she was pleading to go with him to see the darkest wizard of all time, she did not know. But she didn’t feel like she could let him go by himself, especially in the state of things. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was worried.

He turned around on her suddenly, grabbing her arm more forcefully than any of the other times he had touched her. His face was livid, full of malice, his eyes flashing with anger. His lips were pursed into an awful sneer, and he looked worse than she had every seen him in her life. Just five minutes ago he was peaceful, reading one of the books he so often picked up during the evening.

Snape hated the way she looked at him with so much terror in her eyes. The look on her face made his blood boil. He could not justify the feeling. Without another word, he let go of her arm and threw the door to his rooms open and left quickly.

Hermione watched him leave, her heart jumped to her throat and she began to cry harder than she might have ever had in her entire life. She instinctively rubbed at her right arm, which could still feel the heat and intensity of his rough hands. As the tears fell from her cheeks, Hermione began to understand why she had been crying so much. And at that point, something within her snapped.

The door to the dungeon corridor was still open.

This is my chance, she thought, staring at the door idly. My chance to leave, to warn the Headmaster.

Before she could have time to tell herself many reasons why she should not leave his rooms, she sprinted from the door and made her way through the dungeons. It was late into the evening and the prefects were sure to be prowling the corridors. She didn’t care. Who were they to question why Hermione Granger was running wildly through the halls?

She came to the entrance hall and ran, colliding straight into a tall, slender, woman. Hermione fell backward harshly on the floor and groaned before getting to her feet. She looked up to see Professor McGonagall staring at her, obviously puzzled, her hands placed on her hips.

“Miss Granger,” she gasped, her glasses falling to the edge of her nose. “What are you doing away from the dungeons?”

“Professor, you have to listen, Snape’s just left and I must see the Headmaster—”

“I’m afraid the Headmaster is busy right now, Miss Granger. As for Snape’s absence, that gives you no reason what so ever to be prowling these parts of the castle at night,” she lectured, stepping in to take a hold of Hermione.

Hermione jerked away from her and pleaded, “Professor, I’m sorry but I have to see Professor Dumbledore!” she panted, brushing as quickly as she could past McGonagall and making her way down the corridor, ignoring the woman’s feeble attempts to stop her.

Hermione’s insides were splitting apart as she ran up the stairs to Dumbledore’s office. She felt as if she was going to explode, her heart was beating rapidly and her throat became dangerously cold and it pained her to breathe in. She screamed the password at the Gargoyle and ran up the stairs and launched for the door, throwing it open. Her mouth fell open when she found no one was in the room. She stepped in silently, making her way over to Fawkes, who looked like he was about to burst into flames at any moment.

Her hand moved out gently to press a hand to his cheek and he leaned in gratefully to her touch. She graced a hand over his head almost meekly and the bird began to coo softly. Tilting her head, she got a better look at the bird and leaned in towards him, smiling. At that moment, the door to the office flew open and a terrifying sound filled the air. Hermione whipped around to find Severus Snape falling to the floor, Dumbledore at his side.

Hermione’s first instinct told her to run and see what happened, but she stood in shock, her back to Fawkes who was making noises of surprise. She moved forward slowly, her hand falling to her side from where she was previously petting the bird. Drawing closer to the both of him, Dumbledore looked up and saw her, his worried expression never fading.

“Professor,” Hermione whispered. “When he left I panicked—”

“I know,” Dumbledore said quietly, lifting Snape into his arms, who was groaning miserably. His hair was wet, tousled all over and sticking to his forehead. There was a large cut on the side of his cheek and his robes were torn. “I don’t think you should be here right now, Hermione.”

Hermione just watched as the older man hoisted Snape into the chair across from his desk. She moved toward him timidly as Dumbledore went to get something. His eyes were closed but his mouth twitched slightly as if he were only half conscious. Snape’s eyes flickered slowly open and widened briefly at the sight of Hermione, before half closing again.

“What are you—” he croaked, trying to find the energy for words. She knew if he were capable, his voice would be furious.

She swallowed. “I was scared.”

“Bullshit.”

It was the first time she had heard her Potions Professor curse, despite the many times in class she knew he was muttering vulgar words underneath his breath in his frustration at the Gryffindor students. Hermione looked around to see where Dumbledore went and when she saw that he was not about to return, she got on her knees to observe Snape better.

His head tilted to look at her, a small sneer still spreading his face. He closed his eyes and his face turned into a look of sadness as if he were defeated, and looked away from her. For a moment she thought he might have been sleeping, but Hermione knew better. Not knowing what else to do, she reached over and placed her hand around his and squeezed it gently. She felt him tense up and pull from her slightly. She let go of his hand.

At that moment Dumbledore came into the room, his wand in hand as he approached Snape and Hermione. He gave Hermione a brief look before kneeling himself across from her and pulling out his wand to point it at Snape’s face. He muttered a few words before the cut on his face was healed and he was transfigured into a dry set of robes.

“I really do think you should be making your way to bed now, Hermione,” Dumbledore said gently, taking a stand. “I’ll walk you out. Severus will be back in the morning.”

The next morning Hermione’s body was so weak that she could barely turn over. Groaning, she leaned up slowly and lifted her legs out of bed. Her large pajama pants made their way from her knees to her ankles. She pulled them up slowly and walked towards the door. After a few attempts she finally found the doorknob and walked into the next room.

She found Snape sitting in the armchair by the fire but he was not moving, or reading. She walked cautiously around to her own armchair across from him and found that he was sleeping. Hermione observed him quietly, folding her legs beneath her as she sat in the chair. His hair was across his face, covering his left eye and his mouth. The other side of his face was visible and he looked… peaceful. His head tossed to the other side and Hermione swallowed, afraid that he might wake soon. But he did not. She sat there for what seemed like hours, just watching him before his eyes began to open. At the sight of Hermione, his eyes flew open at once.

“Miss Granger—”

“Professor, please, tell me what’s happened.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed and he sneered, getting up quickly, his robe billowing behind him. He shuffled inside his liquor cabinet before pulling out the fire whiskey and pouring himself a glass. She noticed that his hand was shaking when he poured it. He sat down back in his spot and gulped it down in one shot. Snape’s face winced as if he was in pain and he stared at Hermione dangerously.

“He is angry.”

Hermione stayed silent. Her body felt frail and her lips were cracked and dry again. Her skin was not its usual color; she was more pale than normal. For a brief moment she resisted the urge to be sarcastic due to the way he had returned to the castle the night before. Her heart rate quickened. She knew that the previous visits to the Dark Lord had been brief for a reason. He wanted to make sure that Snape still had his hold on her, that she was not going anywhere. The next time she knew she would not be so lucky.

“W-why?” Hermione asked feebly, her voice cracking.

At this, Snape looked away from her. He slouched back in his chair and she could have sworn she saw a different emotion pass through his eyes. A look that demanded the need to talk, the need to interact with someone other than himself. He looked to the floor, pressing the tips of his fingers together. He did not look at Hermione once when he spoke.

“The Aurors are still fighting miserably, despite their crumbling resistance. His lack of information on Potter has made his temper rise incredibly. It is only rule that I suffer the consequences of his frustration.”

“B-but that’s not fair. I could have gone with you last night. I could’ve…” she inhaled a sharp breath, “I could have told him something about Harry to make him less angry.”

Snape looked up at her now, his dark eyes gleaming. “If you were to come with me last night Miss Granger, you would be dead.”

The silence hung between them like thick, black smoke. It seemed to suffocate Hermione. Unsure of what to say, she just stared at her Professor, who only stared back.

“I believe the Dark Lords mercy is running out. He has been exceedingly indulgent these past few weeks. I consider myself lucky for successfully steering you out of the path of death twice so far, Miss Granger. Your information to him is crucial; you shall survive, until he finds exactly what it is he needs from you. Hopefully Potter,” he made a slight face at the name, “Will have some sort of effort by the time he’s preparing to kill you.”

Kill you.

The words echoed throughout her mind over and over and she resisted the strongest urge to cry. As comforting as he was, she did not want to find herself crying on her Potions Professor again. She considered it was a one time thing and if she had dared to try it again, he would have pulled her off of him like a leech and insist she go to bed. She bit her lip so hard to the point where for a moment she thought she might have been bleeding.

“I c-ca c-cant—” Hermione tried to find the words to say, but nothing would come out correctly. A deep, heavy sadness hung within her chest and she gripped the arms of her chair, digging her nails into it. “When is this c-curse going to wear off, s-sir?”

Snape sighed. “In a few days time I will check to see if the antidote is working properly and if there are any traces of the curse left in your body. If it is gone, you will return to your own dormitories immediately afterward.”

Hermione clenched her fists tightly. She hated this bloody curse. Her body always felt tired and she was emotionally distressed. Her face showed that much. That hair hung around her shoulders, almost in every direction, the curls going wild. Brown chocolate eyes now seemed dull; there was less life within them. Her lip was trembling and she bit down on it, trying to avoid eye contact with her Professor.

“Hermione,” he said quietly.

Her eyes snapped up to meet his. Not once in all her years had she seen an expression like the one her Potion’s Professor was wearing now. For once, he looked vulnerable.

Any walls supporting the strength Hermione had left crashed around her as she broke into a sob and ran to her room, slamming the door closed behind her.

Snape sighed and pressed his fingers to his temples, massaging them slowly. His headache was overwhelming and the previous night had left him weak and unsure of what to expect. He spent the next few hours working on grading papers and making himself a potion to cure his pounding headache. When was it going to be that Voldemort wanted the girl all for his own? Surely he was not going to parade around her in circles hoping she would give him all the answers he wanted. He had made sure she would not do that by at least trying to help her block her mind. Give her the idea; give her something to fight for. The last few weeks with Miss Granger had brought him closer to the girl that he’d ever imagine he’d be. She was more like him than she realized. A few weeks ago he would have shuddered at the thought of having a companion like Hermione Granger, but now it just seemed natural. The two of them would spend evenings together drinking tea, making potions, or just reading by the fire. Having someone to spend a little bit of time with wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.

Don’t be ridiculous, Snape thought as he marked another T on one of the essays that sat in front of him at his desk. He subconsciously rubbed at his left forearm, leaning his head forward to look closer at the next essay he was grading. His hair hung like two drapes around his face and he peered around the classroom. It was completely empty, dark and dreary as a few drops of water fell from the ceiling at the end of the room. The room was empty. Just a he felt at that moment.

Empty.

His Dark Mark began to burn slightly and he groaned to himself. He knew that he must be summoned and he set his quill down and got up quickly.

When he opened the door to Hermione’s room, he found that she wasn’t in there. Strange. Perhaps she was in the lavatory, but when he checked there he found nothing but an empty shower. Snape quickly made his way to the main room and looked around and stopped.

Where in Merlin’s name was she?

“Miss Granger?” Snape called out cautiously, becoming fully aware of the now burning mark on his arm. “Miss Granger!” he barked.

No reply.

At that moment, there was a scratching noise at the door and by this time, Snape was already shifting through one of his cupboards, pulling out his robe and his mask. He flung the robe over himself and stuffed the mask into one of its pockets and angrily pulled open the door to find no one there. He looked down and saw a letter lying on the floor and he bent over it and picked it up.

S.S,

I do hope you get this before you realize Hermione has gone missing. Don’t worry, she is safe now.

Good luck,

A.D