In an Alternate Universe

Chapter 9 ~ A Turn for the Worst

The next day, Severus provided the required assignment when he entered the Potions classroom, placing it on the Potions mistress’ desk as requested before taking his seat. Then he proceeded to eye his Professor, not interacting the way he normally did, allowing the rest of his classmates to address the witch’s questions.

Hermione was cool on the surface, not taking Severus to task for his noticeably ill-response to her instruction. The wizard’s dark eyes rested on her in such a way that she was aware his attention was based on much more than usual student/teacher interaction.

But it wasn’t until that evening that Hermione realized just how distracted she was by the young wizard. She was on her rounds, looking to find errant students engaged in less than stellar activities when she saw Prefect Draco Malfoy making his own rounds, rounds that rightly belonged to Severus Snape, the Head boy.

“Mr. Malfoy,” she said, slightly irritated that a student of her own house was out patrolling without her knowledge, “What are you doing patrolling the corridors?”

Draco immediately recognized the witch’s displeasure and made an effort to displace the blame for his presence. Snape was the Head Boy and had the right to delegate the authority of all Prefects. He told Draco he had detention and that he was to cover his rounds. The Slytherin had no choice but to oblige him.

”Detention?” Hermione snapped, “With whom?”

Draco blinked at her.

”Why, with you, Professor,” the pureblood replied.

Hermione turned with a billow of robes and headed directly for the dungeons. Because of what happened the night before, she had completely forgotten she assigned the boy another night’s detention. She stormed into her Potions classroom and looked about. He wasn’t in here. Maybe he saw she was absent and returned to Gryffindor tower. It was just as well. She really didn’t want to see the boy.

Then, she heard a slight clinking noise from her lab. Drawing her wand, the Potions mistress slowly and quietly approached the partially opened door. She pushed it open slowly, then quickly pulled her robes up over her nose to try and protect it from the stench of aggravated Stinkbuggers.

There, crossing the room, was Severus, dressed in what could only be described as a simplified version of a beekeeper suit, but in scarlet and gold. The colors could barely be seen however, since he was covered in Stinkbugger shit. He transferred them from one terrarium to the other in handfuls, wearing thin gloves. The little monsters were shooting shit everywhere and Professor Granger had to leap back to avoid a stream blasted toward the door.

Severus heard her, and turned to face the witch, waving at her a bit like a muggle astronaut.

“Get out here immediately, Mr. Snape. Leave the Stinkbuggers!” the witch snapped at him, her voice muffled by the raised robes.

She left the doorway.

After about ten minutes, Severus exited the labs, dressed in his everyday robes and looking fresh as a moonflower.

Hermione stalked up to him, her face inches from his, though much lower.

”What are you doing in my classroom?” she hissed at him.

”Serving my detention. You told me what I would have to do last night,” the wizard replied, his dark eyes resting on her a bit longingly.

”You have no business being in here. For all I know, you’ve raided my stores and stolen valuable ingredients,” the Professor seethed.

Severus raised his arms.

”You can frisk me if you like, Professor,” he purred at her.

”I know I’d like it,” he thought as he looked down at her.

“Put your arms down you stupid boy!” Hermione snapped, “I have no intentions of frisking you.”

”Please?” Severus breathed at her, “I might have really taken something. Something like Boomslang skin.”

He thought about suggesting she check his trouser pockets first, but it was an idle, and somewhat suicidal idea that he wisely let pass.

“You haven’t taken anything. You’re a Gryffindor. Your house isn’t known for taking advantage of fortuitous situations. You’re too . . . noble,” Hermione said, a look of distaste on her face. “Now, leave my classroom, Mr. Snape. Your detention is over. And from here on out, if I’m not here, you’re not here. Understand me?”

”Yes, Professor,” Severus said, slowly lowering his arm but not moving.

Hermione pinched her nose. Damn. Was she going to go through this again?

”Leave, Mr. Snape,” she said to him, walking around her desk and sitting down, pulling a stack of parchments toward her.

Severus took a step toward her desk.

”Professor Granger, please don’t make me leave,” he said to the witch, his dark eyes full of passion. “I . . . I want . . .”

”I know what you want, and you can’t have it! You stupid, ignorant little idiot! You put yourself in this situation and you’re just going to have to live with it. I am not about to strip down and let you shag me, Mr. Snape. You’re just going to have to deal with the consequences of your own adolescent stupidity. Now get out before I blast you out!” Hermione cried, standing up and drawing her wand.

“You might as well kill me,” Severus said in a low, pitiful voice, “Because if I don’t . . . if we don’t . . . I’m going to die.”

”Lack of pussy has never killed a single man in the world’s entire history, Mr. Snape. I highly doubt if it will kill you,” she snapped back at him furiously.

”Professor, you don’t know how I feel . . . if you’d just let me show you . . . touch you, you’d know what’s inside me is real,” he breathed, taking another step toward her. “You’re the only witch I . . .”

”Imperio!” Hermione hissed, hitting the young Gryffindor with the spell.

”Now leave my classroom, Mr. Snape, and don’t come back tonight,” she said to him, her face contorted with rage.

Moving jerkily as if trying to throw off the spell, Severus turned and walked out of the classroom, pulling the door closed behind him. He walked up the corridor a ways before he felt the spell lift. He sighed, running his hand through his black hair and turning around to look down the dark hallway. He thought he saw a little sliver of light as if from a slightly opened door. It disappeared.

Severus sighed again. He felt as if his life were going to end if he didn’t get Professor Granger to accept him at least once.

“You might as well kill me,” Professor Granger mimicked as she gathered her papers together. Young wizards were so fucking dramatic. Severus Snape was a drama king. Snorting, she headed for her private rooms.

Severus made it to the Gryffindor corridor, walking very slowly. Draco appeared, finishing his round on that floor. He looked at the Head Boy.

”What happened to you? Did Professor Granger torture you for detention?” he asked the pale wizard, noting his eyes were rather bloodshot.

“No,” Severus said weakly, then he staggered.

And fell.

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Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue as she waved her wand over the unconscious Severus, who was lying in a cot in the infirmary. Draco had summoned help immediately and Filch had brought the boy in, tottering with him dangerously as he carried him.

“His condition seems to be magically-based. Physically, I can find nothing wrong with him,” the medi-witch said, her brow furrowed. Albus stood by her, looking down on the boy worriedly.

“Has he a spell on him now?” the Headmaster asked her.

”Nothing that was cast by another. Spells usually dissipate. The source of the magical signature I’m getting seems to be generated . . . “

The medi-witch paused as she continued to pass the wand over Severus.

”It seems it’s self-generated,” she finished, turning toward Albus. “This is a spell he’s cast on himself.”

Albus studied him.

”He took an oath recently,” he said in a quiet voice.

”A wizarding oath? For what?” the witch asked him.

Albus looked at her.

”Ah, it’s rather personal I’m afraid. I don’t think he would want you to know, Poppy,” the old wizard said.

Poppy scowled.

”Albus, when someone this young takes an oath, sometimes it is so powerful because of the passion of youth, that it can become detrimental, actually begin to eat at the person because it is unfulfilled. It weakens him, feeding off his life force. But this can happen only if the oath requires some action to be taken. If it were an oath of silence, for example, it usually reacts like any other oath. Can you at least tell me if the oath was one requiring fulfillment?” she asked him.

“Yes. It definitely was,” Albus replied, “Fulfillment requiring another person to act in tangent. Something that person is not willing to do.”

Poppy sighed.

”Well, someone better talk to that person, because if Mr. Snape does not fulfill that oath, there’s a good chance it will kill him,” she told the Headmaster soberly.

Albus shook his head. Wizarding Oaths could be taken once a wizard or witch reached the age of consent, but it didn’t always mean they were ready to take it. This was definitely a rare quirk of the spell, but not unheard of. Obviously, Severus’ unrequited desire for the Potions mistress turned in on him because he was so young and inexperienced, with very strong emotions and intentions. It was intent that powered the way magic operated. Desire could be a terrible, powerful force. Kingdoms had been razed to the ground because of it.

“As you know Poppy, there is a ritual that can be performed to break an oath’s hold on a person,” Albus said doubtfully. There was, but it was very painful and dangerous. An oath actually took hold of the soul of an individual, becoming bound to it. Dark Magic was involved.

Poppy stared at Albus as if he’d grown two more bearded heads.

”That will kill him quicker than the Oath will,” she snapped at him, “Clearly it has a very powerful hold on him, Albus. He’d never survive it. Never! You’re just going to have to talk to whoever is bound to this oath and convince them to help this young man to meet its conditions, otherwise he’s as good as gone in a few weeks at the most.”

Albus stared at Poppy.

Professor Granger wasn’t going to like this development one bit.

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A/N: Thanks for reading.