The Fortress Within

They made their way quietly to the dungeons and into Severus


They made their way quietly to the dungeons and into
Severus’ chambers.  Neither of
them noticed it, or thought it odd.  It
just seemed natural given all that had happened to them that night. 
Neither one wanted to face the dark of night alone.
 


Hermione made her way to the sofa, and curled up in a
corner.  Severus moved to the hearth
and spelled a warm fire.  With a
quiet command and a pinch of powder, two mugs of spiced tea appeared.  
He didn’t turn round to look at her when he spoke, “The bathroom is
through the next room, if you want to clean up and get comfortable. 
Help yourself to anything.”
 


He heard her rise and move into the next room. 
He moved her steaming mug near where she had been sitting and took his
chair by the fire.  He contemplated
everything that had gone on and realized that, somehow, their relationship had
changed for the better despite the pain and degradation they had both endured.
He would have done anything to have spared her both the physical treatment she
had endured and the sight of him taking an innocent life. 
But, still, he took comfort in the fact that she had seen all and not
turned from him.  That someone good
could understand.
 


Suddenly he heard the faint sound of breaking glass and
jumped to his feet.  He moved
swiftly toward the bedroom, running into a small form as he turned the corner. 
“What happened?” he demanded of her.
 


“Nothing.  Something
just got broken tonight.  Don’t
worry about it, it’s not important.”  She
ducked around him and took her place in the firelight. He didn’t press her for
an explanation, just followed her and took his seat. 
 


Hermione sat curled up, drowning in one of his winter wool
teaching robes.  He smiled at the
sight of her as she struggled to keep the sleeve out of her tea. 
Noticing her amusement, she returned his grin. 
“Sorry, you said help yourself.  I’m
just so cold tonight.” 
 


Severus called her blanket from the other room, and it flew
through the air to cover her.  Hermione
snuggled into the additional layer and sighed in contentment. 
They sat quietly for a while, each lost in contemplation of the nights
events. 
 


Severus found his backbone first, “I wish you hadn’t
seen what I did.”
 


“Severus, don’t wish that. 
I’m glad I saw it.  I had
heard tales of your lust for blood at the revels. 
The complaints that you kept the muggles to yourself, didn’t share. 
I couldn’t understand it, couldn’t ever see that side of you. 
As twisted as it is, I take comfort in knowing that you would rather do
the deed with mercy, than let them suffer.”
 


Her eyes were troubled now, as she continued, “Something
is changing with Lucius.  He was
never one to be gentle with me.  But
he used to seem to prize me, a trophy on his arm. 
He never was respectful, but he still valued me. 
Lately, he seems to be trying to provoke me. 
Pushing me to resist him, seeing how far he can go. 
My favors were rewards for jobs well done, now I am offered out to anyone
who wishes me.”
 


Severus hung his head, staring at the mug in his hands. 
If what she was saying was true, then the situation for her was becomingre dre dangerous, if that was possible.  “He’s
jealous of you.  You’re a threat
to his position.  You exude
confidence in the face of the Dark Lord.  Voldemort
obviously delights in your wit and power.  You’re
becoming an equal to Lucius instead of a plaything. 
The idea is probably most unsettling to Malfoy.”
 


She nodded, understanding his reasoning, as he continued,
“You did well tonight, remain subservient to him.  Do not stand against him; just play the part as he needs it. 
I wish it could be different for you. 
We will end this, and you’ll get your life back. 
Have faith.”
 


Her eyes filled up at the softly spoken assurances. 
“I have no life to claim.  When
this is over, all will be revealed.  My
part in this war will be broadcast over the entire magical community. 
They spy who whored the Deatheaters. 
No one will ever admit that those kind of means justify the ends. Not
even those who made me.   No, I
gave my life away, the first time I let myself be taken.  The best I can hope for is to die alongside of Voldemort, at
least then, they will paint me a martyr.”
 


Severus closed his eyes, blocking out the sight of her
tears.  He couldn’t argue with
her, not then.  She had nothing to
hold onto, no hope past the mission.  He
made a silent vow to find some way to show her her value, give her a purpose.
Once this was all behind them.
 


He rose and took the empty mug from her hand. 
With a quiet word, two vials appeared in his hand. 
He offered one to her with a simple explanation, “Dreamless Sleep.” 
 


Hermione smiled up at him and took his offering. 
She uncorked the vial and drank.  
At his words, her pillows appeared and she curled up on her side. 
He knelt beside her, smiling gently, and brushed a curl from her
forehead.  She gazed at him with
sleepy eyes, accepting the light touch. Her eyes slid shut as the potion did its
work.  He carefully tucked the
blankets around her, insuring her warmth.
 


Severus walked through his dark bedroom and entered the
bathroom.  Before he had a chance to
wave his wand and light the room, he noticed a strange grinding sound under his
heel.  With the pass of his wand,
the lights came up and he saw the floor was littered with broken glass. 
He looked around to find the source and as he lifted his head, his heart
slammed in his chest.  The mirror over his sink had been smashed into a million tiny
pieces.
 


His head reeled, swimming. 
Before he could catch himself he fell to his knees, oblivious to the
shards, which sliced through his pants.  He
was struggling with the horrible recognition of the self-hatred, which drove
Hermione to commit this destruction.  In the aftermath of this evening’s events she had come face
to face with herself.  He was afraid
the pieces of glass were an indication of what would be left of her when this
was finished.  Just sharp edged
worthless bits that would be ground away to nothingness.
 


Severus regained his composure, pushing the useless
feelings deep into the corners of his heart. 
With a wave of his wand, the mirror was whole again. 
“If only it were this easy.”
 


After healing his shredded knees, he changed and washed for
bed.  At the four poster bed which
dominated the center of his room, he halted. 
With a sigh, he grabbed a pillow and the black down comforter and
returned to the living room.  He
took a position on the floor, next to the sofa where she slept.  As theamleamless Sleep potion worked it’s way through his
body, he took what comfort he could knowing that at least tonight, she was safe.
 


Once again, she was gone when he awoke.
 


They resumed their routine of teaching, talking, and
waiting.  Severus could tell that
the struggle between her light and dark personas was wearing the young witch
out.  Her dark side began to
manifest itself more and more.
 


Hermione answered Lucius demands for her appearance several
times a week.  She started to return
to the castle showing signs of physical abuse above anything of a sexual nature. 
Split lips, black eyes, and other various bruises. 
She answered Severus’ demands for an explanation with cold dark eyes
and a slamming door.  In the
mornings, she emerged with her body whole, and a little more of the light
dimmed.
 


Another revel was called in the beginning of October. 
The routine was the same as the last. 
They fed Voldemort more false information and started to solidify the
plans to take Albus at Christmastime.  They
were rewarded, once again, for their efforts with a night of sex, torture, rape,
and blood.
 


The Deatheater in Hermione seized the upper hand this
night.  Choosing a male muggle, she
used his body repeatedly.  At first,
he was a willing partner, but as she demanded more, time and time again, he
tried to deny her.  Severus
recognized the spell which destroyed the man’s soul, leaving only a breathing
shell.  She cast a version of
Imperious and the shell screamed and struggled. 
She went to work then. To Severus she seemed to take out her inner
struggle and frustration on the muggle.  Like
himself, Severus noted she carried a sharp dagger in her boot and was proficient
at using it.  At the end, she stood
over the man; a powerful figure splattered in blood, and finished the job with
her wand. “Avada Kedavra.”
 


After this revel, Hermione seemed, at times, to be
unwinding.  Some evenings, her eyes
darkened and cleared several times throughout the dinner in the Great Hall. 
These evenings, Severus would speak to her quietly, using the soothing
voice his Hermione responded to.  When
she was refocused he would take her by the hand, and in front of the staff and
students, lead her from the Hall. 
 


In the quiet of his chambers, he would tuck her in on the
sofa and speak quietly with her.  They
shared stories of their childhood.  Both
were fascinated at the differences between muggle and wizard children. 
They learned about each other’s taste in books and music. 
Hermione was particularly surprised to find out that Severus had a secret
fondness for the muggle movies.  Together,
they dreamt out loud of being able to apparate to London someday and share in a
movie like normal people. 
 


When she tired, he would continue on, telling her stories
about this and that until she was finally lulled to sleep. 
He spent these nights on the floor by her side, trying to avail himself
to her, even as they slept.
 


On the evening of October 15th Severus sat at his desk
grading papers. It was dinnertime upstairs, but he had chosen to take his meal
in his office, to catch up on some work.  He
had quietly told Hermione of his plans for the evening and gently suggested that
she might do the same. 
 


The quiet of the dungeons was shattered as the door to the
potions classroom slammed back against the wall, thrown open by the 7th
year Slytherin prefect.  Tristan
Bradley rushed into the room out of breath and white faced. 
 


Severus came around the desk to face the young man, “What
is the meaning of this intrusion, Bradley?”
 


“Professor Snape, sir, it’s Marcus Sloane, sir. 
Professor Granger has him on the second floor landing, and I think
she’s going to kill him.”
 


Severus was out the door at a run, robes whirling behind
him.  “Get Dumbledore” he
ordered the young man as he flew up the stairs. 
Although he was in his seventh year, he stood as tall as Severus. He had
led the Slytherin Quidditch team as a beater for the last 5 years and as a
result had a well developed upper body.  That
was not what worried Severus the most, though. 
The young man was also now a Deatheater. 
Marcus Sloane had been marked by Voldemort at the last revel. 
 


Severus reached the landing in time to catch Hermione as
she reeled from a well delivered backhand. 
The front of her robes had been torn open.  Severus was on the young man in a flash. 
With a blow to the face of his own, the boy was on the floor. 
Severus positioned his boot underneath the young man’s chin and pressed
down.  
 


Severus noted with satisfaction the bleeding trails
Hermione’s nails had left down the boy’s cheeks.  He glared down at the other man, who lay under his foot,
struggling to breathe.  “You
little bastard, what did you think you were doing?”
 


As soon as Severus heard the voice behind him, he knew who
was standing there.  “The little
prick thought just because he took the mark, that he had the right to take me,
as well.   As much as I’m
sure you’re enjoying yourself, Snape, I think you had better tend to his wound
before he bleeds to death.”
 


Severus laughed coldly at her comment, taking up the role
she had initiated. “I’ve never heard of someone passing over from a few
scratch marks, Granger.”
 


“Maybe not, but the knife sticking out of his side, well
that’s another story entirely.”
.
Severus looked at Hermione in disbelief and then back at
the man on the floor who, to his horror, was now unconscious. 
Quickly, he dropped down to pull the small blade with the lion’s head
on the hilt from the body of her attacker. 
With a simple healing spell, he was able to halt the flow of blood.
 


The Headmaster and Tristan Bradley came running onto the
landing.  With a troubled look at
Hermione, he ordered the prefect to fetch Madame Pomfrey. 
When the young man was out of earshot, he turned to the Potions Master. 
“Take Hermione to your quarters and wait for me there.”
 


Hermione sneered openly at Albus and purposefully bent down
to pick up the blood-covered dagger.  She
turned her gaze next on Severus as she wiped the blood on her teaching robes. 
She slipped the blade back into her boot, turned on her heel and headed
down the stairs.  On the next
landing, she stopped and picked up her wand, which he noted lay on the floor in
the corner.
 


He followed her to his rooms.  Inside, she quickly lit a fire and threw the tattered robe
into it.  She took her place on the
corner of the sofa and appraised him with narrow eyes. 
Severus took his seat and addressed her, barely containing the venom in
his voice, “What in the hell did you think you were doing, Granger?”
 


“I was trying to protect us.  We were leaving my classroom after finishing our work, when
the bastard jumped us.  The
Gryffindor kitten had a problem with using magic on him and decided to run
instead.  He tackled us and our wand
went flying.” 
 


Severus kept his face impassive at the way she referred to
the two sides of her personality now as “we.” 
The implications were clear to him, though.  It seemed the split was now complete and the two of them were
vying for control.
 


Hermione continued on, “For a kid, the bastard sure is
strong.  He was going on at how he
wanted a piece of what he saw at the revel, and since he was now a Deatheater he
was entitled to it.  She still kept
a lock on our powers, insisting this was a student and that we couldn’t. 
Well, she may be able to lock me out of our magic if she wants, but I
took care of him, didn’t I?  Man, he has a good solid swing though, even when he’s
bleeding all over the floor.”
 


Severus drug shaking hands through his hair. 
He spoke in a low voice now, “Hermione, I know it’s hard. 
Tell me what happened, sweetheart.  Talk
to me.”
 


Almost immediately she began to shake and she pulled her
knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.  Tears flowed down her cheeks and her voice shook, “He
attacked me, Severus.  I couldn’t
ler uer use magic on him; he’s just a confused kid. 
He grabbed the upper hand and he was going to force me, right there on
the steps.  She…I… couldn’t do
anything else.  That can’t happen
here, not here.”
 


He crossed over the unspoken boundaries they had erected
now.  He moved next to her on the
sofa and pulled her close to him.  He
spoke to her quietly and rocked her in his lap. 
He could feel her tears soaking the front of his robes as she wore her
pain out.
 


Eventually, her sobs subsided and she fell into a deep
sleep, worn out once again by the battle being fought within her soul. 
He laid her back on her pillow and tucked her blanket around her. 
Both were now permanent features on the sofa.
 


Severus rose quietly and saw that Albus stood in the
doorway of his office. The two wizards left the sleeping girl and sat at
opposite sides of Severus’ desk.  “How
much of that did you hear?” he inquired of the Headmaster.
 


“Enough to know she acted in self defense,” came
gr
grave reply.
 


Severus felt that one hurdle was now cleared, but there
were a few more in the way.  “What
of Sloane?”
 


“Marcus Sloane will be expelled for an assault on a
teacher.  He never saw Mr. Bradley
and has no idea that he was the one who reported him.  He will be informed that an unnamed Gryffindor reported thecidecident to me; and that an unnamed Slytherin reported to you. 
You of course, being younger than I, arrived first on the scene and were
most distressed at his stupidity at getting caught. 
Before you could cover up for him, though, I showed up and you and
Professor Granger had no choice but to go along with the expulsion or risk
exposing yourselves.  Sound like a
reasonable story?”
 


Severus smiled at his trusted friend. 
“Are you sure you weren’t sorted to Slytherin, Albus?”
 


The Headmaster returned his smile, briefly. Things turned
grave once more.  “Now, about
Hermione.  She is coming undone, is
she not?”
 


Severus could only close his eyes and nod.
 


“I noticed tonight that you seem to be able to control
her to a certain degree.  Is she
able to continue teaching?”
 


“Yes, Albus, I believe she will be fine in the classroom. 
Her Gryffindor side remains quite focused where the students are
concerned.”
 


Albus accepted his opinion on that subject. 
He had some instructions, though for Severus. 
“Very well, she can continue teaching. 
Severus, it’s time that your romance ‘heats up,’ though.”
 


Severus could not believe what he was hearing and rose to
set the older wizard straight. 
 


Albus could not help but chuckle at how pale the Potions
Master’s face had gone.  “Calm
down, Severus, calm down.”  Severus
sank slowly back in his seat.  “I
only meant to say, that on the surface, the two of you are now taking your
romantic relationship to a new level.  You
will be by her side at all times outside of classes.  We cannot risk another episode like tonight. 
She will move her things in here where you can keep an eye on her; try to
keep her on a level keel.”
 


Severus had no choice, but to agree. 
He nodded his head in agreement.  “I
think that in the aftermath of Professor Granger’s attack, the two of us have
earned a day off tomorrow.  Would
you not agree, Headmaster?”  he
inquired with a snide edge to his voice.
 


Albus rose to leave, chuckling lightly. 
“Certainly, Professor.  I
know you need some time to move your girlfriend into your quarters.”
 


Severus clenched and unclenched his fists as Albus left his
office.  He had the urge to smash
something, but the only thing that would do is wake up Hermione. 
At the memory of the young woman sleeping on his couch, he went to check
on her.  She was curled into a tight
ball on her side, covered in fleece to her chin. 
 


He changed his clothes and made his bed on the floor,
noting that if she was to be moved into his rooms, something had to change with
the sleeping arrangements.
 


He studied her face from below, watching the firelight
bounce across her features.  “Shadow
and light on her face, shadow and light within.”