It Starts With A Dance

Chapter 8: Consequences??

Hermione was in the shower when Severus woke up for the first morning of classes. It was around 9am, but he felt as if it were 4 or 5am, due to his . . . exercises the previous night. He stretched and grimaced as his bones creaked and cracked in protest.


"Merlin, if we have such an extended lifespan, why doesn't the quality of the body get extended, as well?" he hissed through his teeth. Severus knew why his body made such noises when he rose: he'd been in espionage for years, in battle and flight for longer, and his body had taken more than a toll from it all.


A song was coming from the bathroom, and Severus recognized it as Hermione singing in the shower. He smiled and got off the bed to join her.


Severus had his hand on the doorknob when the bathroom door flew open. He pitched forward, onto a very wet, very nearly naked Hermione straight from the shower. She caught him and helped him right himself as he spoke.


"Couldn't you be like every other person on this gods-forsaken earth and take a ridiculously long shower?" Severus groused, putting his hands on Hermione's shoulders as he stood again. He brushed her hair back from her chest so he could kiss her collarbone when he saw the marks. "Merlin's arse; is that what I did last night?"


Hermione blushed and looked away. Severus caught her chin and brought her gaze to his; she was blushing, but she was definitely smiling in a very saucy way. She nodded, finally, and Severus let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.


"I can believe I hurt you, Hermione. I never meant to, you must know that. I just couldn't~" Severus said, but Hermione put her finger to his lips.


"Don't worry about it. I like things like that, Severus; I'm glad I found someone else like me," Hermione said quietly, her eyes searching his for . . . something. She wasn't sure what, exactly. But she'd know when she saw it. "I left the water on for you, but I have to get changed and meet up with Tonks before classes; we have a few things to iron out."


Severus went quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "I hope that those 'few things' don't have anything to do with you trying to keep Oliver Wood from his deserved punishment."


Hermione sighed. "Severus, I forgot to give you something last night. Tonks left me the sheets that Oliver was on when Neville brought him back here," Hermione said, leading Severus over to a locked cupboard. She said a charm and a small key was revealed on her desk. She grabbed the key an put it in the lock, turning it to unlock the cupboard. A few things were hastily shoved in, the sheets and some things that she just hadn't had time to organize. One shelf in the cupboard was dedicated to her muggle heritage, with books by muggle authors, muggle music players, and assorted muggle comforts that Severus would ask her about later. Another shelf held a locked and charmed box that Severus was intensely interested in while the last shelf was full of paraphernalia from Hermione's school years, a plaster cast of one of Crookshanks paws, newspapers about Harry and Viktor and other friends, and picture albums and frames too numerous to count. "Here we are."


Hermione grabbed the sheets and brought them over to her desk, spreading them out and finding the spot that Tonks had indicated the night before. The sheet was crispy and black where Oliver had spit up the potion, and at one point, the sheet was burned clear through. Severus grabbed his wand out of the pile that had been his dress robes and tied his hair back again, so it wouldn't get in the way. Hermione really like his hair that way, but she didn't want to mention it right then.


"I'll have to take this to my lab and examine it, but I don't want you to go near Oliver without Tonks, Remus, or me until I have some better answers. In any case, this is old magic, and not from the Isles, either," Severus said, shaking his head. "This type of potion hasn't been used for centuries, perhaps millennia, Hermione, and whoever is using this wants you dead, or just wants you."


Hermione shivered. She was sick of being hunted, first by those creeps while she was a student, she couldn't even remember their names, then by Deatheaters, and now some psychopath. "Fuck."


Severus stared at her. Hermione glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest.


"Go shower. I have to get changed and I still have to talk to Tonks. After classes we should do some research on the potion. Do you have anything else for me to ruminate on during the day?"


Severus smirked. Even threatened and stressed out, Hermione still managed to prove over and over again why she was the smartest, perhaps the strongest witch of the age.


5 5 5 5 5 5 5


"Tonks! Over here!" Hermione called out to Tonks from her classroom. Hermione had eaten breakfast in her rooms with Severus, leafing through the newspaper and her notes for her first class. "What's going on with Oliver?"


Tonks ducked into Hermione's classroom, her hair purple for the day. "He's been transferred to the Ministry of Magic for the time being, until his trial. Are you set for your lessons?"


Hermione nodded, and knew Tonks wouldn't be telling her anymore about the situation until she deemed it necessary. She and Tonks had worked out their lesson plans together, deciding that Hermione would teach Defense Against the Dark Arts for the first half of the year while Tonks taught Transfiguration; they would switch classes for the second term. Tonks smiled and ran off to her own classroom.


Hermione waited for her first crop of students, a group of first-year Gryffindors and Slytherins. She smiled warmly at them until a particularly smarmy Slytherin girl got on her nerves.


"Morning Professor Mudblood," the girl hissed. Hermione slammed her hand down on her desk.


"If you, any of you, are under the impression that you may abuse me because you are full or partially blooded and not muggle-born as I am, let me disabuse you of that notion now. I would remind you that I stood with Harry Potter in the final battle along with Ron and Ginny Weasley. On top of that, I was at the top of my class all seven years I attended Hogwart's and I was prefect and later Head Girl. Blood has nothing to do with talent, strength, or ability. Now," Hermione said, singling out the girl who'd been so rude. "What is your name?"


"Phantasma. Phantasma Lestrange. And I know you," the girl smirked, and Hermione's blood ran cold. "You killed my mummy in the Ministry of Magic."


"Sit down. I'll deal with you later, child," Hermione spat out. She'd always been proud of her lack of bias, but that child was another matter. Bellatrix Lestrange did die by Hermione's hand, but that was after the other woman had tortured hundreds if not thousands of people. As the class started, Hermione hoped that Phantasma hadn't inherited her mother's tendencies.


5 5 5 5 5 5 5


Severus went through his classes in a better mood than usual. He accredited it not simply to the fact that he'd finally released years of built-up sexual tension, but rather to the partner: Hermione. She was golden in the dim light of the bedroom, shy but passionate. He couldn't wait until he had her again; he was sure it would be even better. He was careful not to let his good mood come across to his students, though; he didn't want them to make the mistake of assuming that his good humour would extend to them.


"You. You there; stop this instant," Snape hissed at a first year. "Before you put anything else into that mess you call a potion, what is your name?"


"Wally, sir; Wally Longbottom. My cousin Neville's a professor here," the boy said, energetically tossed an unlabelled ingredient into the cauldron. "I'm much better at potions than Neville!"


BOOM!


"Apparently not," Severus drawled, casting a cleaning charm on the boy and his friends at his table. "You may sit and watch for the rest of the lesson. Perhaps your cousin can help you with your homework, which will be a re-brewing of this potion, unless you want to fail for the day."


The younger Longbottom nodded silently and gathered his things so he could creep from the room. He was almost to the door when Severus spoke again.


"It would terribly difficult for you to observe the lesson if you leave, Longbottom."


Wally was miserable when he returned to his seat, in the midst of his friends, cauldron-less and looking at a night of brewing and re-brewing the potion until Snape said it was right. As he glared at Snape's back, he had an idea.


Why not have cousin Neville's friend Hermione help him?


5 5 5 5 5 5 5

Hermione was reviewing her notes on her students just before dinner when Neville floated in, watching her until she noticed him.

"Neville, stop floating up there and get down here to talk to me," Hermione said without looking up. Even as a ghost, Neville couldn't sneak around her very well. He realized that any snooping he'd done so far was either at her pleasure or so innocuous it didn't disturb her.


"Hey, 'Mione. How were your classes?" Neville asked, coming down until he was resting on the floor.


"Fine, except for one of my first-years," Hermione grimaced at the memory. That little girl frightened Hermione, even though she had years on the younger girl.


"Oh, pureblood? Must be a Malfoy that escaped," Neville said matter-of-factly.


Hermione shook her head. "Worse. Bellatrix Lestrange's daughter, Phantasma. And I have no idea if she's anything like her mother. For our sakes', I hope not."


Neville shivered involuntarily. Bellatrix's favorite curse was the Crucio, which his parents had been subjected to, destroying their minds. Even dead, Neville feared the maniac. He shook off memories of visiting his parents at St. Mungo's and got to the reason why he was bothering Hermione at such a time.


"I have something that may help take your mind off her," Neville said, smiling broadly.


"That would be?" Hermione said impatiently. She needed to get to dinner so she and Severus could do their research.


"Would you mind helping my cousin, Wally, with a potion he needs for Snape's class? Wally messed something up, and Snape gave him tonight to brew another potion. So, whatever you did, keep on doing it; it's helping," Neville said, smirking at Hermione, who blushed furiously.


"Fine; we'll bring food to the dungeons and eat while we brew. If Severus looks for me, tell him I'll find him after dinner," Hermione said, gathering her notes into a neat pile and standing. "And just this once, Neville. I don't want him to get accustomed to having so much help; it will be better for him to depend on himself than others," Hermione said sadly, guilt creeping up on her. Neville had been strong, but she felt that his guilt was at least partly her fault.


Neville focused and managed to put his hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, no-one could have known that the prophecy meant my death as well. I know it won't ease anything, nor will it bring me back to life, but this wasn't your fault."


Hermione dropped her head into her hands, trying to hold the tears back. "I know, Neville, but if maybe if we'd read it again before the battle, or if we'd dueled more, had more experience, things would've been different."


Neville sighed, losing himself as his hands shimmered. He had a hard time controlling his substance when he was upset, and Hermione wasn't helping. Most days, he could deal with being a ghost, when it wasn't an 'in your face' experience; but when his friends dwelt on the issue, or people pitied him, it was unbearable, and were he alive, he'd probably contemplate suicide or self-mutilation.


"Hermione, stop feeling sorry, for me, and for yourself. If you feel so guilty, then help my cousin. But stop this. It isn't helping anyone, and it is making my existence worse," Neville said harshly. Hermione's head snapped up, and the tears stopped.


"Fine. But only this once. And only for you, Neville."


5 5 5 5 5 5 5


Helping Wally was probably the most frustrating experience of Hermione's life. The boy thought he was better than Neville, and was too cocky for Hermione's taste, and she'd hung out with Ron and Harry for ages. But Wally was too much. Hermione ended up mostly brewing the potion herself, and she finally had it after an hour and a half of dealing with the boy.


"Wally! Back off! I'm done. You can finish this on your own; your cousin practically had to beg me to help you, and I know why. You deserve to flunk potions! You are an insufferable git. Not even Ron and Harry were so dense and so unwilling to learn as you have been in this last hour and a half. I hope Severus takes you to hand!" Hermione screamed. She'd had it, and that was the end of it.


"Very well. I thought you were just an annoyance, but your ineptitude is far outweighed by you attitude. You flunk for the day, Mr. Longbottom, and should you ever have your cousin coerce Professor Granger into helping you again, I will flunk you for the year," Severus Snape hissed as he entered the potions dungeon, his robes flaring out behind him. He laid a proprietary hand on her shoulder as he glared at the boy.


Wally was struck dumb by how everything was turning out. Hermione had made sure that cousin Neville got through Hogwart's ~ and Wally himself couldn't be as bad as Neville, right? Hermione was fuming and Snape was still hissing. Wally nodded and waited for the adults to leave. He was lucky he didn't have deten~


"And Mr. Longbottom? Detention, for the next week, with the caretakers. I'll know if you miss it, and then you'll have detention with me."


5 5 5 5 5 5 5


Hermione and Severus worked silently for about an hour, each being careful with the other, until Hermione was ready to scream from the silence. Severus beat her to it.


"Hermione, I have a potion for you to take. I don't remember casting any charms last night, so~"


Hermione blushed and cut him off. "No need. I use muggle methods and maintenance potions so I needn't fear any 'consequences' if something happens. So you don't have to worry about me tying you down," she joked.


Severus felt an odd tug in his chest, but he pushed it aside. They were colleagues, and she was his former student. She'd never want to be stuck at Hogwart's with him for any amount of time. An odd look crossed his face, and Hermione gave him a questioning look. He shook himself and tried another tack.


"I could always tie you down, you know," Severus joked along with her. It is better this way, a little voice said, his conscience. For whom? Severus responded. Surely not me. And what about her?


Hermione laughed. "After we get some work done, perhaps?"


Severus got up and gathered a few ingredients along with the sheets. He mixed the ingredients together with fresh water and while he waited for the solution to settle, he spread the sheets out over a desk. The burned spot was quite evident and Hermione got up to observe what Severus would do. Severus made a few quick cuts, removing the burned spot and the fabric around it for three inches. He snipped a small piece of the unburned fabric from around the burned area and dropped it into a bowl. Severus picked up a dropper and dipped a few drops out of his solution and dripped it onto the fabric.


Severus repeated the process with pieces closer and closer to the singed area, until he finally added it to the burned area. Hermione watched as Severus performed the procedures, and what she saw confused her.


"Severus ~ the solutions are all turning blacker and blacker, based on the closer to the burned area the fabric was, but the burned area stayed clear," Hermione said, reaching for the blackest solution.


"No! Don't touch the solution, Hermione," Severus said sharply [AN: yay for alliteration!!], grabbing her hand before she touched the solution. "You don't want this to grab hold of you."

"What do you mean, 'grab hold' of me? It is just a solution," Hermione said, shaken by his outburst. "Or is the solution a cousin of whatever potion burned through the sheet?"


"Right on the last. One of the few ways to check for this potion is to use a related potion to call for it. Another is to brew more of the potion, which would incriminate us, or to brew the counter-potion, which would take at the very least, a week. I was afraid that this was the potion," Severus added, as an after-thought. "This potion will burn through whatever is not a specified target, without leaving a trace. Whatever Tonks or Poppy did to the sheet stopped the process, which is lucky for us; without this sheet, I'd have nothing to test, and worse, no evidence to show the MLE. Not that they'll believe us, anyhow."


"Severus, enough with the asides. What is this potion?" Hermione said, exasperated.


"Black water is the translation. Latin 'aqua negra'; the original Babylonian and Assyrian are lost to time in this regard. All the information I have has been passed down via oral tradition, which was finally transcribed around 1200 AD. It is a difficult, dangerous potion to make, and it has long been banned. Only a very few Potions Masters and Mistresses have made this potion since it was outlawed; I think perhaps it has been brewed less than twenty times in the duration," Severus thought aloud.


"Severus, if it has been banned like that, what does it do, and when was it brewed and used?" Hermione said, shivering at the implication. If even Severus was frightened in the least by a potion, then it was something to truly be feared.


"It is a potion that completely controls the person it is given to, and very rarely, the victim not only does as he or she is ordered, but does other things found deeper in his or her psyche, dangerous, sick things that are hidden by the lucid areas of our brains. So most of what Oliver did was an order~"


"But some of it was him," Hermione gave a wavering sigh, on the verge of tears. "Who else has it been used on, in history?"


"Muggle, or wizard, Hermione?"


"Either. Both. Just tell me, so I have something to feel worse about, to distract me, to show me that this really isn't all that bad, Severus; I'm scared."


"A poor Serbian student."


"World War One?"


Severus nodded. "John Wilkes Booth."


"Charles I."


"Bloody Mary."


Hermione shivered as Severus ticked off names she knew from history classes before coming to Hogwart's; infamous people responsible for assassinations, war, terror, epidemics, torture, hell on earth. Finally, after almost five minutes of names, Severus stopped.


Hermione waited for a moment before she spoke.


"Severus, you didn’t mention Hitler, or Tito, or Hojo, or the terrorists responsible for those attacks in the US. Were they~"


"No, Hermione. Some things are too evil for even the darkest magic to provoke."


5 5 5 5 5 5 5


Hermione and Severus spent the night researching the Black Water, poring over Severus's private books and gathering information from the restricted section of the library. They were coming up with very little. It was around midnight that Hermione slammed a book shut rather hard.


"Hermione, that was rather much force for the poor book. Something you'd care to share?" Severus drawled, a book open on his lap while three more were strewn over his desk.


"I'm frustrated and tired. I'm going to bed. And I want to know what was behind that look that swept your face earlier. But for now, I'll content myself with my own bed and a slightly less enthusiastic nightcap," Hermione said, getting up and walking to the door leading to the corridor. "I'll see you at breakfast."


"Hermione, wait," Severus said, and she stopped to look at him. He had gotten her to stop, but now what did he say? "Why don't you stay here tonight? You wanted to see my rooms."


"What was going through your mind earlier?"


"What do you mean? About the potion? I get sidetracked when something interests me, Hermione. You should know that; you do that to me enough," Severus gave her a weak smile.


"No. The contraceptive potion. What were you thinking about then, when I mentioned not wanting to tie you down, a very strange look crossed your face. Where exactly do you think this going?"


Severus felt cold pool low in his stomach, a very unwelcome change to the feeling he usually got from Hermione's presence.


"Would it be so bad to have my child?"


Hermione opened her mouth, clamped it shut, and ran, tears streaming down her face.


Severus dropped his head into his hands, shaking as cold tears washed down his face.


"Last night was a mistake. Pity from her; acquiescence to my desires. She doesn't give a damn.


But for the thought of us to be so bad. It's too much!!"


Severus slammed his fist down on the end of his desk. A vase fell over, landing on that hand, breaking both the vase and the hand. Blood mingled with the brackish water, streaming down the desk and soaking the small rug under it. Severus howled in anger, but the pain helped distract him.


"Fuck!"