Mad World

Title: Mad World

Author: Moirasfate

Story: The dreams in which I\'m dying...Are the best I\'ve ever had... Snape\'s thoughts on Hermione on the night he believes he will die. Mostly Sev\'s POV. One-shot, angst, darkfic. AU in light of HBP.

Rating: NC-17 for violence, character death, and sexual elements.

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling and Scholastic Books. This is a work of fanfiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story.

A/N: My first attempt at HP fanfic and SS/HG pairing (my fave ship ^_^), so please be kind to the newbie.

...And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I\'m dying
Are the best I\'ve ever had
I find it hard to tell you
\'Cos I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It\'s a very, very
Mad World...

-from \'Mad World\' by Tears for Fears





Pain, inconceivable pain…no one can tell you what the Cruciatus Curse feels like until it is cast upon you. Of course, if you were not targeted by the Dark Lord or within a few meters of him or his cohorts, no one would know what the Cruciatus feels like, under normal circumstances…of course…


But I know…all too well. I have lost count of how many times the Curse has been inflicted on my person throughout the years. A person would think that by experiencing pain repeatedly one would build up a tolerance to such a violent stimulus, but…here I am again, writhing on the ground, resisting with the last bit of my strength not to scream.


Some muggle philosophers and scien-whatever muggles call them-would say that pain is relative, a chemical reaction within ones brain. Some would say that if one has mastery over ones body one could resist pain… I have mastery over my own mind, but the body is a totally different matter.


I have made a mistake and a simple Avada Kedavra will not cut it now. Discovery…the thing I have been dreading for years. And here it is, my secret is out and there is actually proof to back it up…


Weasley…Ronald.


\"Explain to me, Severus, why you have been playing both sides of the field? I had the silly notion to believe that your allegiance to me was everlasting the day you took my Mark…and yet…you have been actively plotting against me, protecting that Boy, and flaunting a relationship with a Mudblood whore in the open.\"


I had not answered, not this time…the proof was out in the open when He delved into Weasley\'s mind. A terrible oversight in all our planning…Weasley was openly a friend to Potter, the sidekick abeit. Weasley did not have endless lessons in Occlumency to help him, not like Potter… Weasley did not have the facilities to fight the raping of his memories. He was a part of the Order now that he was of age; he had been trusted with some privileged information, but nothing integral at the time of his abduction several days ago. But he did know about me…the spy…the traitor…the greasy git…the overlarge bat…Merlin!


\"…flaunting a relationship with a Mudblood whore in the open.\"


That was when the first round of curses hit me. I fell to my knees, the cold ground jarring my teeth together in my mouth, luckily I did not bite my tongue. My mask; my damnable, tasteless, Death Eater mask fell off my face and pain seeped through every fiber of my pitiful being.


Hermione…my so-called Mudblood whore…at least she was safe, I had made sure of that fact myself.


My light, my salvation, my hope, my love is safe from this darkness that has surrounded me like a cold cloak of suffocating hate. She is battle-worn and beautiful, still so naïve and innocent from such evil…safe from Him…


I had wasted thirty-one years of my life in a perpetual state of insecurity and bitterness. Thirty-one years of being a coward…and now at thirty-eight, I look back through my pain to the last seven years of my life as one would look back at the end of their life, wishing, praying to live in those moments once again.


The first day that she raised her hand in my class was the first day that I was forced to acknowledge that light still existed in the world. Granted, the day Albus forgave me and let me return to his side was a wonderful day, but she…Hermione gave me much more, something that a man and a man alone needs in his life. I watched her grow, heedless to her except for her overwhelming and at times frustrating knowledge. It was not until after Black died that I truly knew her…and her capacity for love…


She had grown into a beautiful woman by then and only continued to grow more brilliant in my eyes. She defended me when Potter blamed me for Black\'s death. She soothed my own conscious when I felt so helpless at the end of that year. I still resent Black in a small way, but it does nothing to brood over a dead man.


I can still hear her comforting words as I held my head in my hands after the initial confrontation with Potter and his powerfully scathing words. I am in no way a man who has many sensitivities, but I had always been a bit sore when someone questioned my loyalty to Albus and my competence…


\"He\'s hurting terribly, Professor, he cannot see that he is not the only one who is hurting in some way or another right now…\" she had said.


I thanked her for her soft words and I remember her smile, gentle, sorrowful, yet revealing a strength that I could only wish I could have…


That was two years ago…and so much has happened since then. The Order lost several other members in that time; Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley, Fletcher, Arthur Weasley… But others came to replace those fallen few, and the Order did not fall with such crushing losses. More attacks came on the Ministry and muggles, and more children under my supervision came into the Dark Lord\'s ranks, too many misguided children.


But also in those two years much has been done to corner Him and oppose Him not only in the Wizarding World of men, but creatures and other magical beings. The Giants finally were persuaded to stand against the Dark Lord, as were the Centaurs whose home is now nothing more than a graveyard adjacent to what was once my home, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The school is safe, but empty of students now. It is the Order\'s fort, a haven for refugees, and a hospital to the wounded… The Ministry still exists, somehow…with Fudge just bungling efforts of his own to defend his so-called honor… Hermione\'s cinnamon eyes would always roll when Fudge was every mentioned in her presence…


Hermione…

I can no longer feel the cold of the musty earth under me. I do not even know where I am…northern Scotland maybe? Somewhere on the Continent? Somehow this idea of not knowing where I am is beginning to alarm me.


No one knows where to come to save me…


The end of the War is nearing, that much settles my mind. Potter will kill Him. And as much as I wish I could kill Tom Riddle myself, I know I lack the power. I have vendettas of my own to fulfill…first with Riddle ruining my life…


I do not claim innocence, but I was seduced.


Secondly, I will avenge my fallen comrades…


Thirdly, I will avenge her parent\'s death…


Merlin, the day that the news came was a bittersweet day…the day she collapsed…into my arms…


\"Severus…Severus…hold me…\" she had cried into my chest. She had never called me by my given name before that moment. I had been the
one closest to her, had been the one to see the owl arrive from the Ministry, had seen the look of shock, anger, and pain on her angelic face.


Part of me was glad I had been there, part of me was dying with her. I loved her then, even in her sixth year…a mere student, a girl child…


We had been having a long conversational relationship after her fifth year, after Black died… By her sixth year she as coming to my classroom in the evenings, experimenting next to me to find a concoction to bring Bill Weasley out of his \'Crucio\' induced lunacy…as well as many others, including the Longbottoms.

Speaking of the Cruciatus…I have begun to foam at the mouth like some damn dog…I can feel my body betraying all semblance of control, even the cold of a late autumn night cannot abate the smell.


I will not break, I have too much to live for, too much waiting for me back at Hogwarts…Hermione. I would never want her to see me now, so weak, so broken.


Remember, Severus…


The summer before her seventh year she stayed at Hogwarts most of the holiday. She no longer had a home in the muggle world… And she was near me. The death of her parents and the toils of the war had made her waif thin and paler. She had cut her hair soon after her parents died.


\"They always loved my hair long…so I kept it this way for them…but now they are gone and I need to bury my past so I can keep going forward…\" she had said shears in hand.


I kept a lock of that long caramel hair, secretly… If she knew now would she smile?


We kept working on a potion to ease the affects of the Cruciatus, but our efforts were in vain. Honestly, I had an inkling that finding a definite cure was impossible, but our work led absolutely nowhere. In the end we felt like we had wasted our time and energy. The only thing that came out of our cooperation at the end of her summer at Hogwarts was a stronger understanding of one another and the first wistful itchings of a deeper emotion…


It was just after the beginning of term last year, her seventh year that we found each other involved in something more than a conversation, experiment or stroll around the lake. When Nymphadora died… She had always liked Nymphadora, as much as Ginny Weasley so when word came from the Ministry that their young Auror was missing, Hermione felt as though she had lost a sister. \'Missing\' nowadays is a polite term for \'body not found, but definitely deceased,\' if I could put it so.


I had resisted her for so long…grief inspires many strange reactions in women, I have found. Passing emotions…love the most temporal of all when it comes to shock and grief. I had almost taken her when she fell into my arms when her parents died, I had almost taken her when Potter almost died again in his sixth year with a run in with Bellatrix…whom he and Neville Longbottom killed together in a combined outburst of pure rage. I had found it strange when she kept coming to me when something horrific occurred. It was a pure coincidence I was there when news of her parents arrived, but after that…I began to wonder.


I did not want to be her pillar because I knew I was weaker than she. I did not want to be her emotional dumping ground because I felt somehow I was a little bit better a person than that… I did not want to be a substitute for Potter or Weasley who were off having relations of their own…


But I did want to be near her. And I did want to know her. I wanted to be someone who she could smile at, fall into, love… Selfishness, I know. Love has
been something foreign to me most of my life that even a tiny spark of it through venting ones grief was appealing, no matter how small. My mind was battling with itself as she fell into me crying over Tonks…


I tuned out my inner dialogue for once in my life and let my body move naturally. She was seeking my lips, brushing her cheek against my shoulder as she stood on the tips of her toes. I curled my shoulders and bent my knees slightly, closing my eyes. Her nose was cold and damp from crying, but I did not mind. I was rewarded with soft, sweet lips moving beneath mine. My hand ran up her shoulder to her neck, my fingers curling in her shoulder length hair, my thumb resting just before her ear. She moaned as I tilted her flushed face upwards. Merlin, I could feel my knees tremble…


Her small hands caressed my shoulder, her fingers snaking up to my hair. And she pulled away…


\"Your hair…\" she had said. \"Its not greasy at all…\"


I remember grinning slyly. Of all the things she could have said… I loved her…and love her still.


From then on she was always near…nearer than I would have dared to imagine. She worried for me when I was called away. She would kiss that damnable scar when I returned as it still would ache even after the meetings.


\"It feels so cold under my lips,\" she had said over and over again throughout that autumn as the meetings became more frequent. Our relationship up until Christmas was quite discreet and in many ways innocent. I did not force her although many times I sincerely wanted to. There were even times that she forced herself on me when things were becoming too amorous in my chambers. I hated to remind her that she was still a student…and she would remind me that she was of age… She can be so frustrating sometimes, and I wish I could laugh about it right now, but I can feel and taste blood trickling somewhere from my head into my mouth…


Will it ever end? The pain of the Cruciatus does not numb after a long period of time like other trivial pains…no…it is constant. I wish I could beg for the Killing Curse right now…it would end it all…would it not?


I suppose the others are cursing me as well…never suffer of traitor to live?


Remember…Damn…


Christmas…for once in my life it was a joyous occasion. Most of the students went home, actually almost all did with the Dark Lord\'s attacks becoming more and more rampant. Again, she stayed…it was the safest place for her after all. Since her parents had been targeted, she was also a target. The foolish idea that she was Potter\'s interest amuses me still.


I was the one. Me, Severus Snape, Death Eater. Hard to believe, even now, but undeniable even in my thoughts…


Her skin was pale and smooth, like ivory, glowing with a light within. It was amazing to me that then little imperfections seemed to make her all the more beautiful. Soft, so soft and warm. She was like fire as she pressed herself against me that night… I would never be cold again. Even short, her hair was mane-like, framing her round, flushed face like a veil. Her eyes were fiery, cinnamon, warm and I could see my own dark eyes reflected in hers, wreathed in flame. I took her…


Kisses passed between us as feverishly as she ferociously ripped at my clothes. I shuddered as her hands found my chest and pushed me backward toward my bed… For her to be in my private chambers was nothing surprising, not then. Merlin, my head was spinning, and my body trembled. Only she could do this to me…make me melt.


I pulled her down upon me, all that remained were my breeches, too tight for comfort. Her breasts were pressed against my stomach, they were larger than I had originally thought with dark colored aureoles that were taut in the cool of my chamber. Her eyes were beginning to darken as she moved with me, as I rolled her on my bed, her lips moving as my hands ran down her bare sides. Her moan was like a song to my ears, I had to have her, taste her…


My lips were trembling as I peeled back her soft petals. The heady scent of her was overwhelming my senses… And her taste…so sweet, so warm… Her moans filled my ears, her hands burying themselves in my hair… I could hardly take it. I pulled back quickly, a gasp eliciting from between her swollen lips. I made short order of my breeches, my engorged dick springing free. I gasped this time at the slight relief I felt, but still my body hummed, lust rushing through my veins.


\"Severusssss…\" she hissed, I shivered. How in the world…I began to question, my eyes grazing over her body, my dick twitching. \"I need you…now.\"


I complied without a word, going to my knees, spreading her thighs, wetness glistening there in the candlelight. Her musky scent was intoxicating, and I could still taste her on my lips. I leaned over her, my hands resting on either side of her head. I dipped down to claim her lips as I slipped into her slowly. I did not release the kiss as she moaned and whimpered in my mouth. I was already so close to losing control that I was in physical pain. Biting down on her lower lip I slammed into her, she tried to scream, I could taste her blood now I my mouth…


Her arms wrapped about me, pulling me close, a layer of sweat forming between us. She panted as I moved into her, and enveloped me… I could never describe how she felt around me…soft, tight, wet are such simple words for something so… I was ecstatic…falling deeper and being lifted up at the same time… She clutched me so tightly…and I could only respond with guttural moans and growls.


Hours maybe, minutes? I felt her convulse around me, gritting her teeth, her breath caught. And when she could no longer hold her breath she screamed as she came, I following right behind. Like a dam bursting we came so hard that I felt a loud groan pass my lips. Oh how heavenly it was…and so wet. I had filled her with my seed…and the thought of it was disturbing and alleviating at the same time.


We collapsed into each other, sweaty and exhausted. Whispering endearments and promises we slept for a while only to wake up ready to go again and again and again. She bared her soul to me and I let her taste my inner darkness. When morning came, like it does after such an affair she was still there…she would always be there, with me…


But now…now…now…


\"Enough…\" a voice says distantly and suddenly the pain stops.


I feel my body relax, humming with pain. I curl up on my side, in my own sweat and filth.


\"But my Lord…!\" a voice interjects somewhere behind me.


\"SILENCE, Malfoy! Unless you want to writhe right beside him you will shut your stupid mouth for once!\"


Voldemort…showing pity? Never… I can only see the dark soil and my vision fazes in and out. I cannot tell how much damage has been done, I can feel and cannot… Damn…


\"Now…Severus…can you answer me? Where do your loyalties lie? If your answer pleases me I might let you live to repent for your indiscretions,\" he says near my ear, his voice as silky and soothing as the devils.


I try to speak, I can feel all eyes upon me, even Weasley\'s who has been kneeling, hands behind his back, face bloody somewhere nearby. He cannot speak, his jaw broken, his right eye swollen shut, his arms broken…


\"H…\" I hiss, spittle and blood flying from my mouth. How eloquent.


\"Yes, Severus?\" I can feel his breath against my ear.


\"He…Hermioneee…\" I hiss. There. I have said it and I can hear Weasley moaning, his mouth full of blood.


A swift kick to the gut is what I get as a reward. If I could have laughed, I would have, like a madman. Weasley, despite his wounds struggled against his captors, and I catch a flash of green in my peripheral vision. Ronald Weasley falls to the ground with a thump, dead.


Oh, Hermione…I am so sorry…


\"That was totally uncalled for, Nott…\" the Dark Lord hisses nearby.


I feel my eyes water. I had never particularly liked the boy, but he was loyal to the Cause…and loyal to Hermione… It should have never been like this…not like this…


\"Are you crying, Severus?\" he asks me. I do not reply. Here I lay on the frosty, hard ground, in my own filth, crying for myself and all of those who have died…I will be joining them soon, perhaps.


There is no one to save me. I have been lying to myself. Hermione is safe…Potter will save the day. But not today.


\"CRUCIO!\"


My body convulses again, but the pain is so distant to my mind…my mind…it\'s starting to fade away, and I can only thank the gods that it will all be over soon.


\"Severus…Severus…\" she says in my mind, so sweetly. \"I love you…\"


Farewell, my mind, my world, my love…










With a scream she woke, her body lifting from the bed as if possessed. Sweat was pouring off her face and her hair was sticky. She could taste bile in her mouth and she rose, falling to the floor, vomiting up the contents of her stomach onto the stone floor.


Sobbing and shivering she kneeled on the floor rocking. A nightmare…a horrible nightmare.


The door to the bedroom opened with a crash and rushed footsteps sounded, pounding across the floor. Arms enveloped her, pulling her up from the floor. She felt like she was gliding over the floor into the lavatory. Water was dousing her face, wiping away the vomit from her lips, from her hair.


\"Shhh… It is alright…\" a male voice says in her ear, but she could not stop from wailing. She could not open her eyes…frightened.


Kisses played across her face and she felt warmth spread through her as her tears began to dry. \"I…\" she began, but sobbed silently.


\"It was only a dream, love…only a dream…\"


Her cinnamon eyes opened, looking before her, he had pressed his forehead to hers looking into her face. \"Severus…why won\'t it go away?\"


Severus shuddered, pulling back from her to wipe her face again with a damp cloth. They kneeled in the lavatory floor, staring at each other.


\"I am sorry, love…it is all my fault, if you have had never...\" Severus began, but trailed, his voice beginning to fail him.


Hermione choked back a flood of new tears. She let her hands fall to her swollen belly. Her baby was kicking her ferociously and a smile tickled the edges of her mouth.


\"No…you could not help it…you were screaming out to me that night, for me to save you… I tried so hard, Severus…but these damned hormones are making me crazy…\"


Severus tried to smile. It had been a year ago, the night when he nearly lost himself. Somehow he had survived, his mind shattered, his body broken.


That night, when Voldemort was done with him, he and Ronald Weasley\'s body were sent back to Dumbledore as a final warning. Why Voldemort had not killed him, Severus would never know. Of course, in the end, Voldemort regretted the fact that he had not killed Severus Snape.


After three months of recovery in the Hospital Wing, and Hermione\'s breakthrough with the Crucio potion within two days of his return to Hogwarts, Severus awoke as good as new or as good as a middle-aged wizard could be... Unfortunately the potion only worked for himself and the eldest Weasley boy, but not the Longbottomsor any of the other victims… There was a time limit, it seemed, for the potion to work, but still Severus prized his lover for being so damnable clever…


It did not take long for Severus to ride out with Dumbledore, Potter and the rest of the Order to take on Voldemort and his minions for the final time. It was a battle that could only be described as epic. Voldemort fell. Potter was still the Boy-who-lived, and the Order prevailed. A shockwave spread through the Wizarding world as the curtains fell upon dark era in the twentieth century.


A happy end to a sad story, Severus mused several times in the months following Voldemort\'s fall. But still, even after the end, there were things still to be resolved. Severus was now a husband and soon to be father…still a fact that amazed him every morning he woke with Hermione at his side.


\"How do you feel, love?\" he whispered, swiping a stray strand of hair behind his wife\'s ear.


Hermione tried to smile at her husband whose coal eyes burned into hers with concern. Concern… Hermione could never get used to the fact that Severus was expressive at all. For the seven years of her schooling she had feared and then grew to love Severus Snape\'s trademark sneer, but now as he looked into her eyes, she could see very clearly his love, his loyalty, his pain and concern of her.


\"Better… But I left a horrible mess by the bed,\" she mumbled almost as if she were pouting, but Severus only caressed her cheek. \"I can clean up…\" she continued, a flash of her dream passing behind her eyes.


Severus said nothing and helped his very pregnant wife to her feet. He bit the inside of his cheek as he watched her paddle through the bathroom to the door, her thin cotton nightgown sticking to her quite enticingly.


Hermione \'Accio\'ed her wand and with a quick \'Evanesco\' cleaned up the watery vomit she had deposited at the bedside. She sighed and placed her wand on the bedside table, sitting on the edge of the bed. She was still trembling slightly from the dream, the same dream she had had many times before.


It had been a while since she had had the \'Dream\' as she called it. The vision of Severus writhing on some dark plain and the sound of his cries that haunted Hermione and would probably haunt her until the day she died. It was a vision she had extracted from her beloved\'s mind the night he was sent back to Hogwarts, barely alive. Hermione had learned Occlumency from Professor Dumbledore in her seventh year, unbeknownst to Severus. In the end, Severus had scolded her for being so reckless and then the weary Headmaster for allowing Hermione to pry into the black abyss that was the mind of Severus Snape.


\"It was bad enough that Weasley had to die, but to allow her to try and pull out that horrible memory…\" Severus had said to the Headmaster upon learning of Hermione\'s attempt to ease his pain.


Hermione had only wanted to help…a simple \'Obliviate\' on Severus would never have worked. Seeing Severus as he was the night he was sent back was painful for Hermione for there he laid in the Hospital Wing covered in mud and filth, bleeding and broken. Hermione healed the physical abuse, but the mental and emotional shock was what was keeping her beloved from truly healing…

Hermione lived Severus\' pain, saw Ron die, and regretted that she had been powerless to stop it. She refused a Memory Charm when it was offered to her for the simple fact that she knew that if she were to ever end her regret and guilt she would have to remember…even if it drove her mad.


\"Drink this…\" he said near her ear, she had not noticed him even sitting down next to her on the bed.


\"Dreamless Sleep?\" she murmured, she mind still very distant.


\"No… A little bit of tea and Pepper-Up…a small dose.\"


Hermione\'s vision cleared enough to see that Severus was dangling a white teacup under her nose, the scent of peppermint and a trace of potion pulling her mind from her thoughts.


Severus watched Hermione very closely, noticing that her eyes were unfocussed. She\'s thinking of the vision again, he thought to himself…and he sighed. Even though she refused the Memory Charm, Severus was biding his time… It was not good to cast charms on a pregnant woman and Hermione was no exception no matter how powerful of a witch she was. Severus swore that as soon as his child was born he would cast the charm on his wife, no matter what type of subterfuge he had to use. It just would not do, to put it simply, for his wife and the mother of his child to be haunted with his memory…he had never wanted her to know…of his weakness, his pain, or his lack of power to save her best friend.


Hermione drank the tea slowly, feeling the potion work its way through her body, defused with a bit of honey and peppermint…it soothed her and her lingering nausea faded. She turned to Severus and forced a smile.


\"I\'m fine,\" she said clearly, more to herself than to her dark husband.


Severus gently took the cup from Hermione and placed it on the bedside table next to her wand. He moved from the bed and stood over her, his dark eyes burning her with an intense stare.


\"What?\" she asked innocently, her cinnamon eyes soft and clear.


\"Get back in bed, Hermione, it is very late and you will need more rest.\"


Hermione opened her mouth to protest but found that her mouth was stopped as her husband took her lips between his. Hermione let her eyes close as Severus nibbled on her lower lip. With her eyes closed still she felt her husband pull away, whispering what sounded like an incantation. And as if water were trickling and filling her brain she felt very drowsy.


\"You tricked me, Severus Snape…\" she whispered, falling forward. Strong arms caught her and maneuvered her into the bed, her eyes were still shut but her mind was beginning to travel the paths of a dreamless sleep.


\"That I did, Mrs. Snape, now sleep and rest…\" he whispered, pulling the blankets over his wife\'s bulging belly up to her swollen breasts.


\"Goodnight, Severus…\" she mumbled, already too far drawn into sleep.


\"Goodnight, my love,\" he whispered, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.


He watched her for sometime, the subtle rise and fall of her chest, the slight fluttering her of her eyelashes and the small smile on her lips. She was beautiful still, war battered and weary laden with child, but beautiful… A shuddering breath passed his lips and he stood upright and turned for the door. He had much to do tonight and it was a mere chance that he had heard her waking.

Obviously she had noticed his clothes or she would have put up a fuss…for tonight he was going with Potter and the others of the Order to round up the last of the Death Eaters. He did not have the heart to tell Hermione of such a dangerous battle…


Severus stopped at the door and looked back at his sleeping wife, hesitant to leave the room, shut the door and possibly never see his beloved again. But then he closed his eyes and thought…


Had I not thought the same thing every night that I left her during the war? Or that night?


The fates had somehow spared him every time he left her, but this time could be different.


He opened his dark eyes again and studied the scene before him, studied so intently that the image was burned into his memory… Slowly he shut the door and adjusted the cloak on his shoulders, he warded the door and walked through his laboratory with purpose.


Tonight it would be the end…and Severus Snape would live his life as he should have, as a normal human being, free of his past and looking hopefully to the future.