He was walking on a tightrope. Just as he gained his balance, the rope would sway, threatening to topple him down into the dark chasm yawning below him. He took one staggering step forward, then another. The line seemed to steady, allowing him to breathe easier. There was a figure on the other side, beckoning him closer. As he took another halting step forward, wiping the sweat from his eyes, the figure suddenly became clear. Albus was there. He was right there. He was holding the rope securely, promising him safety and protection, if he could just make it across. A bright, intense red light seemed to fill the darkness gaping below him. Albus disappeared, vanished, gone, taking the safety with him. The cord sagged. He was falling, falling… evil red eyes appearing behind the light, penetrating him, leaving him naked, as high, cruel laughter reverberated around his skull… Suddenly, the cord tightened. He looked up to where Albus had been, but it was someone else holding the cord. He blinked again, trying to clear the buzzing in his brain, to see his rescuer.
“Come to me, Severus.”
“Yes, yes?”
“Severus. Severus! Professor!!”
Severus bolted upright out of his chair, his eyes darting around the room, searching for the source of the evil laugh. At the slight movement to his left, his arm shot out, grabbing his quarry by the neck and pinning them to the wall with his body.
Hermione let out a squeak of protest. She had been trying to wake him from what seemed like a bad dream, judging by his whimpering and twitching. Now she was pinned to the wall by what was a thoroughly enraged man.
A red haze was clouding Severus’ vision. He would kill this evil fiend that haunted him night after night!
Slowly, Severus became aware of a soft body pressed against his own, and a fresh, clean, spicy smell made his nostrils flare. He let his body sink further into the warmth, his head falling forward to breathe in more of that scent, his free arm instinctively curving around the warm body.
“Professor, are you alright?”
Severus’ head jerked back, ebony eyes colliding with apprehensive brown ones, a look of dread dawning across his features. He removed his hand from Hermione’s neck as if he had been burned, while his eyes fixed on the one wrapped around her waist.
Snape backed away slowly, mumbling something about being tired. He turned suddenly on his heel and bolted through the door like a startled hare.
Hermione remained leaning against the wall, unable to stand without its support. Sluggishly, she raised her shaking hands to cover her face. She had known all along that Severus Snape was a Death Eater and a spy. She also knew that he had been forced to do things most people would never be able to do (Dumbledore’s death being one of those things), but she had never fully appreciated just how ruthless and scary that man could be until tonight.
Over the past few weeks she had seen a different side to the Potions master. He had willingly given up his time to help her, the know-it-all Gryffindor and one third of the Golden Trio. He had even (begrudgingly, at first) let her assist him with some of his Potions research. As time had gone by, he seemed to realise her value as an assistant and had let her help research the theory behind some of his more complicated projects.
And she had needed the break. She was so sick of vampires! Minerva’s visits were infrequent, as she had many duties to attend to as Headmistress. Despite all her urgings, Hermione still refused to contact her friends. She would rather they think she was dead than to burden them with her “little problem,” as the Headmistress called it.
Hermione had begun to enjoy those evenings spent with Professor Snape. They would sit for ages after they had finished their work for the evening, debating theories and problems.
The potion he was making for her seemed to be working. The cravings seemed to be reduced and she was feeling stronger than she had been since she woke up in that cave. It was strange though. The potion was more satisfying than straight rat blood had ever been. Snape must have found some extra ingredient to satisfy the hunger. It was typical of him not to mention it.
But tonight Snape had seemed like another man. Tonight Hermione saw the cold-blooded Death Eater. The man who had grabbed her had no emotion in his eyes; it was like he had no soul.
And yet... He had leaned into her. Severus had wrapped his arm around her and held on like a drowning man.
“Severus? Since when did I think of him as Severus?”
Hermione removed her hands from her face and looked around the room. It seemed so empty and dull without his brooding presence. The thought of their latest encounter flashed through her mind, and a warm glow seemed to suffuse her entire body. These were dangerous thoughts. It was Snape, for goodness' sake! He was probably scrubbing himself from head to toe to rid himself of her germs! Though, Severus in the shower…
She shook her head to rid herself of those foolish images. Snape was a grown man. A snarky, sometimes nasty, solitary man who would want nothing to do with a silly girl who managed to get herself turned into a Vampire! Hermione walked to the open window, pulled the drapes open further and stared out at the moonlit landscape, the lake glittering in the distance. How she wished she could see it in the light of day again.
She turned from the open window and flung herself on the bed. She would just lie here for a few minutes. Just to think. Then she would do some more research before the light of dawn made her creep back to her shelter like a snake under a rock.
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Severus ran to his chambers.
No, Severus never ran. He stalked really fast to his chambers. The fact that he was out of breath was only because he had stalked extremely fast. He just wasn’t used to stalking that quickly. That was all.
Severus began to pace in front of the cold, empty fireplace. It had nothing to do with the vampire up in the North Tower, nothing at all.
Just because she was intelligent, witty, brave and moderately good looking (if you went for that kind of thing) did not mean anything. He was not falling for an ex-student turned Vampire, who was nearly half his age. He must be losing his mind.
Severus knew he should not have gone up to the tower this evening. He was exhausted, but the temptation to spend just a few hours in her company was just too much. And, of course, he had fallen asleep, slumped in his chair like a first year at exam time, he thought scathingly.
He had been dreaming. No, having a nightmare. It was always the same one… But this one was different “ there was the laughter, falling, but someone was trying to help him.
The next thing he knew he was clinging to the delectable Miss Granger like a leech to its last meal… Merlin’s pants, did he smell her hair?
The look on Hermione’s face when he had pulled away from her… It must have been disgust at the thought of her lecherous ex-professor getting cosy with her.
Hermione? What? When had he started to think of her as Hermione? Severus shook his head.
She had seen him at his most vulnerable. What was she thinking now? Even Minerva did not know about his nightmares. Would Hermione think him weak, as well as disgusting?
Severus stopped pacing and stared at a little, singed spot on the hearthrug. He should go see her, explain… Explain what? That he had a thing for the young witch?
Shaking his head in disgust at himself, Severus walked to the bathroom to have a shower, noting as he passed the window that it was nearly dawn.
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Severus stopped in front of the studded, wooden door. He was a fool, a stupid, damnable fool. He opened the door anyway.
Hermione was lying on the bed, fast asleep. She was stretched out on her side, facing the window. The rays of the morning sun were slanting across the room, reaching out towards the sleeping figure on the bed as if to caress a lover.
As that sickeningly sweet thought crossed his mind, Severus suddenly realised the implications of the sun’s rays reaching her sleeping form. The silly vampire “ uh, witch... uh, woman “ had forgotten to close the blasted curtains. She must have been more upset than he realised.
Quickly, Severus crossed to the wide-open pane, intending to close it before the silly twit did herself harm.
His footsteps must have been louder than he had intended, for he had not taken more than a few strides when her eyes fluttered open. A look of confusion darted across her features before they softened into a warm smile. Hermione yawned and, before Snape could stop her, she stretched luxuriously, thrusting her bare arm directly into the shaft of sunlight slanting across the bed.
Time seemed to come to a standstill. Severus could hear his breathing echoing in his ears.
Hermione looked at her arm, the pale flesh glowing in the golden sunlight. She wrenched her arm back into the shadows, staring at it with dismay. When nothing seemed to happen, she flopped back on her pillows with relief.
Severus was not so sure. In three strides he was at her side, yanking her arm up to his inspection. As he looked, the tender flesh of her inner arm began to bubble and blister, the skin starting to smoke and char slightly, spreading outwards towards her fingers.
Without another glace at the stricken young woman’s face, Severus yanked her to her feet, and pulled her unceremoniously to the bathroom.
Hermione stood frozen where Snape had left her, her horror-filled gaze unable to leave her blistering, boiling arm.
Severus looked at Hermione. She was in shock. He would get nothing useful out of her now. Without another thought, Severus turned on the cold tap and shoved Hermione under the freezing water. When Hermione gasped and tried to bolt out of the shower, Severus stepped under the icy spray, grabbed hold of her injured arm, and held it up to the soothing spray.
Hermione tore her gaze from her damaged skin to the face of the man next to her. All she could see in his features was a dark, forbidding anger. When he lifted his gaze to her, she knew the anger was directed at her.
“What else is there to put on this, Miss Granger?” he asked her in an icy tone.
“Well I… uh…” She stammered, never having had the full force of is icy rage directed at her before.
“Get on with it,” he snapped, “before there is nothing of your arm left to save”
Hermione took a deep breath, collecting her shattered nerves.
“There is a special burn salve in the mirror cabinet. I made it ages ago, just in case…” Hermione’s voice trailed off as Severus stalked across the bathroom to retrieve the salve.
Hermione had just switched off the water when her arm was again yanked into Severus’ firm grip. She watched, mesmerised as his long fingers dipped into the ointment and began to gently massage it into her tender skin. The pain began to ease almost immediately.
“What the bloody hell were you thinking, you little fool?” Severus’ enraged words were making her feel even worse.
“You, of anyone else, should know by now to ensure the curtains are properly closed before falling asleep!” Severus, finished with the cream, roughly grabbed Hermione’s chin, forcing her to look at him.
“What were you thinking?” he demanded again.
“I… I wasn’t thinking.”
“That much is obvious. Why would you do something so dangerous, so stupid, after everything Minerva has done to ensure your safety? After all the research and experiments we have done?”
Hermione wrenched her chin from his hand, turning away from him. She folded her arms around herself as is to shield herself from his scorn.
He knew why. He knew she was so disgusted and distraught by what happened that she had forgotten to close the drapes. But he needed to hear her say it.
Severus watched the thin, shivering form, water dripping from her robes and hair. He was so busy looking at her that he almost didn’t hear her when she began to speak.
“You are right. I was stupid, a complete idiot. I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I could not see beyond them.”
Severus bowed his head, mentally flaying himself for indirectly causing her pain.
“I was so busy thinking of you, what it must have been like for you to have to go through what you did and still carry on living. How brave you are. Then I was thinking about how it felt to have you leaning against me, how warm and good and right you felt. And I began to wonder what it would feel like if you kissed me. I fell asleep with silly schoolgirl thoughts running through my head and forgot to close the drapes. You are right. I am a silly, little fool.”
Severus’ head had snapped up during this speech, incredulity stamped across his face. She was fantasising about him?
“Hermione.” It came out a strangled croak
“It is fine if you don’t want to work with me any more. I’ll understand completely.” Hermione kept her face averted from the ridicule she knew she would find there.
“Hermione.” This time it came out husky, not at all like his normal voice.
Hermione dared to peek at him. What she saw in his face made her gasp.
“Severus, I…”
And she was in his arms. His warm, firm lips were pressed into hers, and he tasted of rich, dark chocolate and something secret and exotic, and he was holding her like he would never let her go, and she was holding him to her like she wanted to be a part of him, and they were both in heaven.
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Big, huge thanks to my beta, Lumiere, and lots of chocolate! For G, my rock, my shoulder to cry on.
Walking in Darkness by shadow_ks
Chapter Notes: What exactly is happening up in that tower?