For The Life Of Me
by
Rating: NC-17, check warnings if you need to know more details than simply "explicit sexual content" is present in this fic.
Pairing: SS/HG
Word Count: 10,052
Disclaimer: The characters are Rowling's, the situations they are in are mine. No profit was made.
Summary: The darkness holds sway, but light always follows darkness in that eternal dance they share.
Warnings: highlight between brackets if you prefer story warnings: [dark, dub-con and all that follows, including angst, humiliation, non-con (not the main pairing), h/c, and mention of two characters' deaths (not SS or HG).]
Quiet, she said, so I tried to be quiet, but it was very hard because the snake had bitten me once more and I grabbed my arm and bit my lip and I couldn't walk even though I knew she wanted me, needed me to.
I must stay with her, I'd told myself, because if I don't the snake will bite me again and again and I'll fill with black poison and she will have to pull it from me, from every opening, and that makes her sick. I didn't want to make her sick.
"Severus," she whispered, touching my arm and urging me up and I got up but soon I'd hunched over my arm where the snake bit and I couldn't see where I was going so I fell and she fell with me.
~ ~ ~
We were in the forest deep and dark and I saw spiders and centaurs and I dreamt of a warm cabin by a pumpkin patch where a giant of a man picked me up from the cold, wet ground and lay me on his huge bed and covered me with a blanket. This was a good dream.
~ ~ ~
"Delirium," she said.
I knew this word and it's not a good word, but the snake had bitten me again and she hadn't told me to be quiet so I moaned a little bit and held my heavy arm in my lap and rocked so the pain would go away.
"I'll get help."
This made her mad and I moaned again as she grabbed the giant man's arm.
"You can't, Hagrid. He's not a traitor and I don't trust anyone to listen to just my word on that... No."
"I can let you Floo the order, if anyone is lef'. They'll be glad to know you're alive."
"That's not important now and there are too many questions we have no time to answer. I'll let someone know later, if there's still anyone to tell. Right now, you need to take word to the villages. The water is tainted. Voldemort put something in it that makes people fall ill and die. I don't even know if it's safe to wash in it or use it for crops. They must use the Aquamenti spell if they need water for anything. "
"Tha's a right foul thing ter do."
"He also cursed Severus and I need to find or make anti-venom."
This word is a good word. I've heard it before and I think she is right. It will help stop the snakebite and the pain and the poison.
"You need seeing to, too, 'Mione. Your face is burnt."
I shuddered and whined then and covered my face as hot blood burned through it.
"What did them Death Eaters do?"
I cried, afraid, as the snake flicked its tongue along my forearm.
The snake opened its mouth and curled over the vein in my arm and bit hard and I crashed into a very dark place.
~ ~ ~
"Severus?"
I moaned and stirred and when the pain reached my head, I began to retch violently.
Hermione, bless her, put the bucket by my mouth so I could simply turn and empty my stomach.
When I was through gagging out the bitter black slime, I shivered, clammy and cold and utterly wretched. My teeth ached now from the poison and I fought to keep from whimpering in misery.
"H-how long?"
"Three days. I didn't think you'd make it."
"You know what you need to do."
She ignored me to hold a cup of water to my lips.
"Here."
I sipped, spat carefully, did it once more, and then drank thirstily. My eyes ached, and my hair was tangled and slick with sweat. I was quite certain I stank, although Hermione made no mention of it. I was, I noted, in one of Hagrid's old shirts, more rag than garment. It was all I wore. I refused to think of how she managed to change my clothing without magic.
"Hermione. Let Hagrid do it."
"He's gone to warn the villages about the water, and no."
"You are doing me no favours."
"We don't even know if that will work. The bloody thing was born of Dark Magic. How do you know it would be entirely gone?"
"If it isn't, then our hands are tied. Or at least yours will be."
"Severus. It's not funny."
"Believe me, delirium is not funny, either. The prospect of going entirely insane is hardly soothing."
"I'm going to try and find a spell to remove the poison. It will be easier for me to cast a spell than it is to make bloody anti-venom, although I've nothing to cast it with. We're just fortunate Hagrid has a cistern for rainwater, since neither of us can perform an Aquamenti spell at the moment and I don't dare approach Professor Sprout about this."
"It would be easier to cut off my arm."
She drew in a sharp breath and glared at me. Her scarred left cheek made her look very fierce.
"You know very well that might not even work. Now I'm going to help you despite yourself, Severus Snape. You've known me long enough to know I won't take the easy route."
The door to Hagrid's hut slammed as she left.
Bloody-minded Gryffindors.
~ ~ ~
The Dark Mark roiled, writhed and I grimaced as I felt the snake unfurling, readying to bite.
Hermione had been gone too long. Somehow, the Dark Lord had ensured that a separation any longer than an hour would rouse his serpent to torment me. It would bite me again each minute she was gone.
A few bites were painful. A dozen and the poison would start to blacken my arm, affect my mind, and drive reason from me.
The serpent writhed now in no pattern I could fathom. It was no longer content to slide within the loathsome Death Eater skull, but slid up and down along my forearm like a restless sentry at times.
Now, as the hour limit struck, the snake struck as well. I hissed as the skin of my arm where it had bitten erupted with a black pustule that burned and throbbed. I gritted my teeth and tried to wait without worrying or giving in to the agony… or insanity.
~ ~ ~
I couldn't be quiet because it was hurting so much, so badly, and I wanted it to stop, but it wouldn't stop and so I curled up around my arm and shivered and cried.
There was nothing but pain and pain and I could hear the Dark One hissing in my ear and I smelt his terrible breath and felt his hands running over me.
"Rise, my fine serpent," he said and I thought he meant the snake and I whimpered as I waited for it to bite again, but it didn't and something else happened.
My arm was in my lap, and I held it with the other, but under my arm, between my legs, it got hot and hard and heavy-feeling and itchy and I rubbed between my legs and it felt good and the pain in my arm stopped and so I kept rubbing.
I pulled the shirt up with my good hand so I could rub harder down there and it did feel like a snake, smooth and muscled, sliding easily in my hand, but it wasn't a snake, and it was damp at the small opening on top and it felt wonderfully good. So I rubbed it harder and faster and laughed because the pain was disappearing, leaving me, and I heard the door open, but I couldn't stop laughing.
"Severus!" she cried.
I stopped laughing long enough to tell her it didn't hurt anymore, and then the snake between my legs spit white poison that made me feel sleepy...and wept black tears that burnt and stained the bedclothes.
~ ~ ~
"How long?"
"Not so long. I got into the Restricted Section, but without a wand for a Point-Me spell, I had to go through the index and search manually."
"Nothing, I take it."
"I'll go again tomorrow. I just wish you could come with me."
"I'm surprised the wards allowed me this far onto the grounds."
"I think it's something to do with Hagrid. His wards protect the school from enemies. He knows you're not the enemy, so they sense it also."
I sighed, and then swallowed.
"Hermione. Before. I remember something from before. Something about the pain going away on its own. Something...sexual."
She winced.
"I came in to find you wanking, Severus. You did say the pain was gone, just before you, uh, ejaculated."
Heat flared in my face, but I swallowed down my discomfiture.
"No doubt I was delirious."
"Maybe. I'm thinking, though, that you may have been correct."
I frowned at her.
"Think of what Voldemort would find amusing. What would he have you do to stop the pain? What did he make us do?"
My eyelid twitched and I swallowed again. "Bloody hell."
"Still." She sighed, and then looked me straight in the eye. "If it works, maybe you should do it."
I scowled.
"Pain certainly removed any missish thoughts before. I'd rather you be comfortable than in agony."
"I'd still go mad, I think. Wanking may stop the pain, but not the poison."
"One step at a time." She drew in a tired breath and settled beside me on the bed. "Maybe tomorrow I'll find something that can help."
~ ~ ~
That night the snake's biting and gnawing awakened me. It would nip, then nip again, over and over in succession along my wrist like a dog worrying a bone.
Hermione was less than a hand's width away so it was not a lack of proximity and I shut my eyes on the frustrated tears, even as I gritted my teeth from the building pain.
"Severus?"
I turned away from her onto my side, still holding my aching arm, and she pulled up behind me.
"Are you in pain?"
"It will go away," I half-stated, half-prayed, sweating with the effort to remain calm. "It just bit for no reason."
"What? Did you do something?"
"I. Don't. Know." I tried to keep gritting my teeth around the pain, but talking made it difficult and I was tired and sore and afraid. My breath grew shaky and I began to sweat more freely as the pain increased.
"Severus?"
I nodded.
"Let me."
I wondered what she meant, and then I felt her warm, slender fingers sliding around me, around my waist, settling on my pelvis and slowly lifting up the edges of the tattered old shirt.
"Hermione."
"Hush."
I shivered as the shirt slid slowly up my thighs, brushing against my suddenly interested genitals, cock beginning to rise from its thick nest of pubic hair.
"Hermione..."
"It's not like we're strangers," she whispered against the back of my neck and I shuddered as my cock extended to its full length. It truly was a mindless beast.
"Just concentrate on my hands."
I could do nothing else. Her warm, slender fingers released the edge of the bunched up shirt once it was puddled around my waist. Then they slid unerringly to my erection and I groaned.
She had some experience at this, I could tell, as she gently cradled my bollocks for a moment before sliding her hand up to encircle my prick and firmly begin stroking it. I was grateful, but still ashamed.
"Hermione."
"Sh."
I ached and trembled and fought the shame and my own traitorous flesh as she milked my response without ceasing. The pain receded as the black poison slipped along my nerves, sliding up my arm, racing in circles around my heart before speeding down, down...
The pain was almost entirely gone as her talented hands proved her theory correct.
"I--"
"Easy, Severus. Let it swallow the pain."
I should be doing this myself, I knew. I should have done this myself, without waking her, without bothering her, without sullying her anymore than I already had.
Her soft entreaties wove an aura of intimacy about this foul, yet necessary act. Spooned as we were, with her hand stroking me, her breathy whispers ignited my already overeager body.
"Come for me, Severus. Let the toxins come out."
"Oh, God..."
I threw my head back as my hips thrust forward and felt my climax sizzle along my spine before it came crashing out through my prick and dashed across the bed and over her hand. It was overwhelming and I did not remain awake long enough to see the vile streaks of ebony venom that followed, nor feel the dull, but thankfully temporary, agony their wake left behind.
~ ~ ~
Hagrid returned sooner than expected. His bearded face was pale and looked thinner than I'd ever imagined was possible.
He woke us, but said nothing at finding us in his bed together. I gave a brief and embarrassed thought to the state of his sheets, hoping Hermione had used a cleaning charm and possibly a freshening one, also. They were wandless charms most students learned by fourth year. It was quite pointless, though, thanks to the more obvious offense perpetrated on his sheets where the venom had eaten through the cloth, but at least holes could be chalked up to carelessness rather than carnality.
"A plague's hit Hogsmeade. Must be the one you talked about, 'Mione. Near everyone's curled up with fever and fits, coughing blood, lips blue. I didn't drink nothing from no one."
He removed his thick woolen scarf and sat down to a cup of potent black tea.
"I told 'em about the water, but I don't know if they believed me or not. I couldn't tell 'em where I heard it from."
"Damn."
It was all she said, but then, it was all that needed saying.
The plague was my fault; result of a potion I'd created for the Dark Lord at his behest. I had made no antidote, because once I rejoined his ranks, I'd had no privacy, no means of hiding such treachery.
I'd also forgotten the potion. He had asked me for something new well over a year ago, something horrible to inflict pain and misery on those he used it against. I assumed he meant prisoners, as he often liked to torment them in various ways. I had told him a drop on a prisoner's tongue should yield him an evening's entertainment. He had not told me he planned to poison the rivers and streams with it.
It was a fiendish plan since wizards could easily get fresh water via their wands, so Muggles would be most affected, followed by Muggleborn and poorer Wizarding households who did not rely solely on magic for their households. In short, almost everyone not of Pure-blood.
When I realized what he'd done, I had tried to stop the contamination, but had been caught in turn and brought before him along with another captive taken by some Death Eaters near Knockturn Alley -- the Granger girl.
It was fortunate he had not considered me a traitor to his cause, merely misguided over his choice of entertainments. As such, my punishment had been light.
He took my wand, spoke to my Dark Mark, and then smiled at me.
~ ~ ~
The snake that was part of my Dark Mark had bitten me every time I'd ignored him. Soon, all too soon, I'd become a mindless beast, driven to do whatever my master commanded.
My tongue was thick with apologies as I'd covered her body and did as the Dark Lord bid. She did not scream or fight, but worse. She'd touched my face and told me she understood, that it was all right, that we were both helpless.
The Dark Lord had laughed even as I'd screamed within my mind, even as my body had thrust within hers.
He'd refused to allow me a quick completion, the black poison pooling at his hissed command, and traversing my arm, my chest and down, wrapping around my bollocks so I could keep abusing the girl to the laughter of his followers.
When he'd finally grown bored, when I'd finally been allowed release, it was not within her battered body, for which I'd been grateful. He'd bidden her watch as he released the poisonous restraints around my testicles. The thin streaks of venomous black had swirled about my bollocks and disappeared. Then he'd forced me to issue my seed on the gravestone of his Muggle father. Soon after, the black venom had spat forth.
The thick spatters of white did nothing. The thin black droplets smoked where they fell onto the grey stone. My shrinking genitals ached intolerably, a bruised and sickening feeling.
While I cradled them, the Dark Lord had forced her cheek onto the soiled stone and hissed in Parseltongue, an evil sound like snake laughter as she burned and screamed.
Letting her go, he had informed her that the next time we "entertained" him, he would let me come inside her. Then he'd thrown us in the root cellar of his home at Little Hangleton.
~ ~ ~
The body of one of her Gryffindor classmates, the dark-skinned Muggle boy named Thomas, had been in there already, mouldering. He had been badly hexed and had apparently succumbed to his internal injuries some time back. I did not tell her his presence did not bode well; the Dark Lord was fond of Inferi.
She had not remained idle nor had she taken time to recover from her ordeal. She'd managed to break a plank loose near and just below the level of the warded cellar window. Then she'd begun digging upward, using the dead boy's shoe and broken wand, which she'd found in his pocket, hiding the dirt in his trousers to hide our escape attempt.
I merely watched her, spent in more ways than one. The effects of the poison had left me a trembling wreck, scarcely able to stand upright and fearful of my next time before the Dark Lord.
His anti-Apparition wards only extended to the graveyard, I knew. Once past that, we could get free. Or she could. Thanks to having my Dark Mark unleashed, I could not be free unless he released me, or possibly if I lost my arm, or more likely, when I died.
~ ~ ~
I'd known it was futile, but the next time we were brought before him for his entertainment, I managed to pull out of her and spill both seed and loathsome inky toxin on the ground.
His anger at me for not climaxing inside her had been incendiary.
She'd been made to watch with horror-filled eyes as each willing man in the circle had been allowed to use me for amusement in her stead.
They showed neither hesitation nor mercy. Some had been rough, some cruel; most had been heedless of the normal articulation of my joints. Each promised her they would do to her what they did to me the next time we were called. I had gagged at the thought and the acrid leavings I'd been forced to choke down again and again. I had found I almost preferred the violations that had taken place below.
Then, soiled beyond belief, with fouled blood oozing down my bruised bollocks, and her whispered words of understanding in my ear, I was made to force her once again.
~ ~ ~
She'd fixed the plank behind us to make it seem as if we'd somehow magically escaped.
When we had gone past the graveyard, she had used her classmate's broken wand, ends pressed tightly together, to Apparate us. Surprisingly, it had worked and she had fallen to her knees in the soil of the Forbidden Forest and wept.
~ ~ ~
"You need to work on an antidote, poison or no poison."
I knew this; I knew it and dreaded it.
I did not want to step foot in the castle. It was hallowed ground now. I'd slain the Headmaster, as a kindness and to protect others. He lay entombed here and that was entirely my fault. The very stones themselves might well act against me. The ghosts and paintings would not be kind.
Its denizens were of no worry. Per Hermione, the children had been sent to their homes and the rest had gone to fight against the Dark Lord's forces, or hide from them. Either way, they had deserted the castle. Most of my colleagues were doubtlessly either fighting, dead or wishing to be one or the other.
Only Hagrid had remained, and Sprout, and the spectral Binns. Sprout stayed to maintain the greenhouse and supplied both St. Mungo's and the Order and any desperate visitors with medicinal herbs as needed. Hagrid intended to die in defense of the castle if need be, or so he had said to the Headmistress when it had been closed.
Hermione waited whilst I considered the situation, then surprised us all by turning to the half-giant.
"Hagrid. Your pink umbrella. Get it."
"Have it right here, 'Mione. What you want it for?"
She held up the broken wand that had once belonged to Dean Thomas, the only wand either of us had available since the Dark Lord had confiscated both of our own. She held the broken ends firmly together.
"I want you to point it to this wand, think about fixing it as hard as you can, then say "Reparo!" to it."
Beggars can't be choosers. I did not scoff at her idea, nor did Hagrid. His face twitched, but he obediently lifted his faithful umbrella and did as she bid.
The thick, knotted birch knit back together with a fat gnarl over the break. Otherwise, the wand looked sound.
Hermione swallowed hard, then picked it up and aimed it at Hagrid's teapot and ordered, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
After the pot had been gently settled back on the stovetop, she hugged the wand to her chest and said, "Thank you, Dean," over and over as she wept.
~ ~ ~
My robes and clothes were in a sorry state. Hermione had boiled them and hung them to dry whilst I'd recuperated in Hagrid's hut, but the stains, rips and ragged edges remained. Still, at least they were cleaner than they had been and warmer than traipsing about in nothing but Hagrid's tattered shirt.
She was good with a Disillusionment Charm. Between that and Hagrid's formidable tea to fortify us, we managed to get me to the Potions Laboratory without Binns or the other ghosts raising the alarm.
It was true no one was in the castle to alarm, aside from Sprout, but it was equally true the House Elves remained loyal to Hogwarts and Elf versus sick, wandless man was no contest.
Now all I had to do was find a cure for the plague before repeated exposure to the poison drove me mad.
~ ~ ~
It was useless, hopeless. I did not have my notes. I could not remember. It was long ago. Perhaps the poison was affecting my mind.
My head did ache, as did my arm. I hadn't been bitten; the thing was just restless and I needed distraction.
The smell of tea made my stomach growl and I looked up to find Hermione setting down a huge tray of sandwiches and tea - the first real food either of us had seen aside from Hagrid's fierce brew and hard brown bread with butter. She looked sheepish.
"The House Elves nearly killed me with kindness, until they realized it was me," she sighed. "I'd no clothes to offer, but they still kept away whilst I scrounged. I figured we both could do with a spot of food."
My eyes burned -- so we were both pariahs to the Elves. But I managed a smile nonetheless.
"Fifty points to Gryffindor."
~ ~ ~
My fingernails scratched the tabletop as I hissed and groaned and fought to keep from thrusting.
Her fingers were warm and quick and clever and I was old and bitter and basted with shame.
I watched the black pustules converge beneath the skin of my arm into an inky pool that bulged and writhed like something obscene. I closed my eyes as the venom began to traverse up my arm. This did not help as now I could only concentrate on what the girl, what Hermione, was doing.
I had not asked her. I had not intended to let her.
I had been writing down possible approaches to an antidote when the snake had begun biting and the pain was so overwhelmingly intense that all I had been able to do was grab my arm with my other hand and cry out. Before I'd been able to think again, she had fished me out of my robes and begun stimulating my cock.
It was as unthinking as I currently was, foolishly eager despite all the abuses it had recently been through and--
"Hermione!"
I managed to pull back enough to free myself from her, but I found I could not look at her.
"Go. Fetch a potion container. Quick!"
She did not question me, merely slid her wand from its holder and summoned a potion container. They were heat and poison-proof for the most part.
She held it up and I grimaced.
"Let me... let me. Try to catch the poison only."
She nodded and I gritted my teeth and took my straining flesh in hand.
It shouldn't be difficult. We were not strangers to each other as she'd noted. What perversions had we not been forced to undergo with each other already? What had she not already seen done to me? So why could I not do this ridiculously simple thing? It wasn't harming her. It was just a bit farther down the road toward my complete ignominy, which was nowhere I'd not been before.
I nearly wept as my cock deflated, then grimaced as the damnable snake bit me again.
"I c--"
The words were swallowed by my gasp as her cool and gentle digits touched me, soothed me, reawakened me and made the pain withdraw once again.
I could not watch. I leant on the table again and focused once more on the pitted wood. It was scarred, burnt, hard-used. Could any amount of scrubbing and polishing possibly make it like new again? We were much alike. How many noxious substances had it been exposed to? How many years of students' abuses had this table seen? How many more before it was considered used up and discarded?
My harsh laugh was buried in the cry forced from me, much as my poisonous climax.
As I caught my breath, she placed the potion flask before me. Inky black venom coated the bottom and made me wince as I cradled my sore genitals and fought a groan of pain.
"I trust," I finally managed to say, "you remember your potions lessons on catalyzing agents safe for ingestion?"
To my surprise, she fought a smile and stepped up to slip her arms around me. I felt awkward with my hands full of bollocks, but she merely sighed and pressed me tightly for a moment before letting me go. Her eyes were bright and her words were earnest.
"Only you, Severus Snape, could possibly think of your current situation as a means to a scientific end."
~ ~ ~
That night was awkward indeed.
It was quite late when we called a halt to our work. Neither of us had achieved any form of success.
It seemed senseless to bother Hagrid when my own old quarters remained, searched by Aurors, but essentially untouched since I'd left. Moreover, they had a hidden door that led directly to my laboratory - a prime consideration given the circumstances.
It seemed equally senseless to Hermione not to share the bed after all we had been through and I could not gainsay her. Still, while a few students had seen the inside my quarters, none had ever been in my bedroom.
She was not shy. She usurped one of my shapeless nightshirts and quickly availed herself of my bathroom. As I waited her return, a sudden crack of sound alerted me to the presence of the House Elf.
It appeared as disreputable as I likely did.
It was filthy and red-eyed and rather sour looking, with a dilapidated towel covering its scrawny body.
"You is being Severus Snape."
I nodded.
She seemed to study me, then relaxed. "Winky is being your Elf."
I frowned. "Didn't you belong to the Crouches?"
"Yes. Poor, poor Barty son. Poor, poor Barty father. All a muddle. Winky tried to help. Winky was given clothes," she wailed, then fought her obvious urge to cry to continue her odd tale.
"Winky was brought here, but the Elves make fun of Winky and leave her alone. It was not Winky's fault she was given clothes! Winky cared for her master who cared for He Who Must Not Be Named. Winky cared for his father who fought He Who Must Not Be Named. Winky is a good Elf. Winky does not know He Who Must Not Be Named, but Winky can tell Severus Snape is like both her masters and needs taking care of. Severus Snape needs help. Winky will help. Winky is being Master Severus's Elf now."
I was nonplussed to say the least.
"Master Severus will be taking his dirty, ragged robes off. Winky will get him fresh ones. Master Severus will be taking a bath and fresh robes will be ready when he is waking tomorrow."
~ ~ ~
I was naked when she stepped back into the room wearing my old nightshirt.
"Winky seems to have adopted me," I replied by way of answering her uncertain look.
She frowned at this. "Winky?"
"She made me take my clothes off and told me to take a bath. I didn't think you would appreciate my joining you."
Hermione gave me a quirky smile. "It wouldn't be the worst of what we've done."
~ ~ ~
Were fresh sheets, food and clean clothes and body all it took to lower one's defenses? Were understanding, sensibility, candour and compassion to be my undoing?
She drew closer to me, as I lay not sleeping, weary but unable to lose myself to the night and the dark. Or perhaps I had been lost long ago and was weary of searching for myself.
She found me, though. She reached for me, touched me, and caressed me to hardness, and all I could think to do in my befuddlement was tell her I had not been bitten.
She merely smiled against my mouth and gently tugged at my lips with her strong, white, even teeth and swallowed whatever nonsense I was about to utter with her startlingly wet, wicked tongue. I could scarcely credit she would wish to do this with me. I felt irreparably soiled compared to her brightness.
When she slid over me, straddled me and assessed the ready state of my genitals with her warm, careful hands, she finally spoke.
"We should find out if pre-emptive measures work here."
Then she rose up and slipped onto my cock like a slick, heated fist and I was lost.
~ ~ ~
The snake stayed quiescent for two days.
In that time, Hagrid reported the plague had spread to the Muggle communities. Some of the elderly and children had perished.
Could I be damned more than I was already?
~ ~ ~
"We'll have to visit the Headmaster's office." I could think of no other way and now people were dying.
Her anxious eyes grew shuttered as she considered this development.
"Would it be locked up?"
"Definitely, as well as warded. I've heard, although this might be Apocrypha, that only one who could be rightful Headmistress or Headmaster can return to it when the school has been closed."
"Could we Floo in?"
"We could try."
~ ~ ~
The Floo had not worked, but I had not expected it to. It was nearly impossible to unward a warded Floo from the other side.
"We need to eat. We can't think on empty stomachs," she declared.
We both jumped as Winky suddenly appeared holding a tray with bowls of stew and bread and tomatoes and a pot of tea atop it. She was wearing, I noted, a rather tasteful toga made of what appeared to be the remnants of my old robes, now laundered and starched.
"Master Severus and Master's lady friend be eating. The other House Elves ignore Master Severus and his lady friend. The other House Elves think Winky is not right in the head to be helping, but Master Severus is her Master now and she will help him and his lady friend any way she can."
"Winky."
The Elf turned doleful eyes toward Hermione and waited.
"Could you get Severus and me into the Headmaster's Office?"
Winky turned to me. "Does Master Severus wants to be going to the Headmaster's Office with his lady friend?"
"No. Master Severus needs to be going to the Headmaster's Office with Hermione."
I heard the snap of her fingers before we materialized in Albus's old office.
Then I heard his voice.
"My dear boy. What a pleasure to see you again!"
~ ~ ~
Albus granted that time was of the essence, but he insisted we speak at a later time. He informed his predecessors that I had every right to be there and urged them to keep secret what happened in this hallowed office.
All but Phineas Nigellus Black concurred and kept their silence. Black merely eyed Hermione and me and sniffed delicately. He did not hurry from his frame, though, so there was some hope he wasn't planning on sounding an alarm.
I went to the concealed cabinet and considered the Pensieve. I tried my best to think back to that time, when the Dark Lord had requested I make him something to torment whoever took it. I stopped.
"Hermione. I have no wand. You will have to remove the memories."
"Of course." She swiftly stepped up and looked uncertain. "Is there a method?"
"Place the tip of your wand to my temple. Concentrate on withdrawing my thoughts and carefully pull back your wand. You should feel a distinct resistance that will abruptly disappear as the surfaced thought is completely extracted. Then wave the thought filament into the Pensieve."
She nodded and bit her lip in a highly distracting manner as I tried to focus again on that day. I nodded in turn and she began to withdraw the memories.
Soon they slipped into the Pensieve and I took her hand in mine and touched the silver vapours.
~ ~ ~
The Dark Lord bid me make a fast acting agent to bring a torturous death. He was fond of watching prisoners writhe in agony, making them beg for mercy, for an antidote he had no intention of providing, then killing them as a sign of his magnanimousness. If there was visible blood, so much the better.
I was truly damned, for I could not work on an antidote in the presence of so many potential prying eyes. All I could do was hope the Order would end this standoff soon and that the Dark Lord would not use the agent right away.
I searched my ingredients cabinet and considered his request -- fast-acting, agony -- and my own safeguards: preferably non-contagious. That last was the real trick. Without resorting to prophylaxis for all Death Eaters, which would take more time than I knew the Dark Lord would find acceptable, I would be forced to utilize Dark Arts to restrain any solution from infecting those with a Dark Mark.
I grabbed a jar of rat entrails and some common sugar solution and went to work.
I'd forgotten her presence until she whispered, "Yersinia pestis?"
I'd apparently also forgotten her cleverness. I nodded.
"Brilliant," she said quietly, watching the past me working.
We watched as I created a cauldron full of plague organisms. The addition of two grains of temporal powder, stirred in a clockwise fashion, would induce the potion to inflict symptoms more rapidly than normal. She interrupted only once to ask if the powder was the same as what was within the center of a Time Turner and I nodded at her astuteness.
Then I froze. I'd forgotten what Dark Arts ritual I'd used to shield my fellow Death Eaters from the potion.
"Hermione."
She looked to me and I swallowed. I could not tell her. I also could not force her from the memory.
"I'm sorry you are to witness this. It is a Dark Arts ritual."
She nodded again. "I didn't think Death Eaters sat around drinking tea and eating fairy cake, Severus."
I nearly choked as I fought the crazed laugh that wanted to erupt, but soon enough the actions of my past self brought sobriety.
Without a thought for modesty or any hesitation, the memory of me slipped his robes off and removed all his garments. I closed my eyes, remembering now without need of viewing it.
I had sat on my haunches before the cauldron and intoned, "Abs vipera ab vipera aegis!"
Then I had begun to masturbate. Swallowing now, I opened my eyes and hesitantly looked to Hermione.
She watched, utterly fascinated and, judging by her heated face and parted lips, not a little aroused.
This discovery helped me divorce my feelings of shame and I watched her watching me.
The stimulus of my hands had not been enough and I had brushed fingertips over my nipples, catching the nubs of flesh with my nails and hissing as the sensation made my hips jerk. That same hand wandered down to card through my tangle of thick black pubes, then slide past to cup my bollocks. I had rubbed and cupped and squeezed them, before sliding past them to press my fingers to my perineum. My other hand had not stopped its steady motion, but now I paused on the upstroke to lightly pinch the edges of my foreskin over my glans, gasping at the sensation.
I could feel myself hardening watching her avid appraisal and past and present self both groaned.
I had toyed with glans and foreskin before continuing to stroke and my other hand had continued to press, slipping back, until I'd been raised up on my knees, hunched over the cauldron, humping my fist, as the fingers of my other hand gently rubbed along my anus.
She jumped when I cried out and began spurting dollop after dollop of semen into the cauldron.
Then we were lifted through the fog and we were spinning back into the Headmaster's Office.
~ ~ ~
It did not take long to retrieve my memory and drop the wards on the Floo. After thanking Albus for the use of his office and promising to return, we Floo'd to my quarters.
Thinking we were going to the laboratory, Hermione hesitated when she saw I stood in my sitting room, uneasy.
"Severus?"
"One thing I can do," I murmured, trying to ignore the flush of heat I could feel colouring my my face, "is to drop the protections the Death Eaters have to this plague. It might help."
"How?"
"In magic, Hermione, intent is paramount. I re-enact the ritual and destroy the protective agent."
"You mean--"
"I can...masturbate again, and destroy my semen with an invocation that should also destroy what protection they are enjoying."
"Severus." She paused. "I'll leave you to it then. I'll go to the library."
"Hermione." I sighed. "I don't have a wand. The semen must be destroyed immediately after it is...harvested. I really don't fancy wanking with my bits that close to the fire."
"Oh." Then she completed my mortification by nervously giggling.
~ ~ ~
I was nude before her, but then we'd both been naked before each other more times than I could comfortably count now. She had already witnessed me doing this in the Pensieve. Why should it be so difficult now?
I knelt before the empty cauldron and tried to empty my mind of everything but my intent.
Drawing in a deep breath I pushed both hands between my legs and pressed them to my genitals. I was already half-hard, still reacting to the stimulus of the Pensieve imagery. But it was more than that, really. It was Hermione's reactions to the Pensieve imagery that were most arousing. She had been excited by what she'd seen. That in turn had excited me. It also puzzled me. What could she possibly find arousing about my pallid, scarred and graceless body?
I looked down now and closed my eyes.
"Aegis adfligere!"
I continued to repeat it as I wrapped a fist around myself.
"Aegis adfligere." I began to stroke myself.
"Aegis adfligere." I was achingly hard.
"Aegis adfligere." I rubbed my nipples with my free hand and flicked the edge of my nails over them and hissed.
"Aegis adfligere." I ran my hand down and to my pubic hair and watched Death Eaters fall in my mind's eye.
"Aegis adfligere." I pressed that sweet, sweet spot behind my bollocks and surged forth, lifting up and rapidly toying with my foreskin to complete as much of the prior ritual as I could before...
"Aegis adfligere!" I gasped as I ejaculated forcefully into the cauldron.
"Semis Inflammare!" Hermione cried without hesitation, aiming at the mouth of the cauldron and turning my semen to ash.
~ ~ ~
"We need more decayed vegetation if I am to brew enough prophylactic."
"Pomona might have some."
We both studied one another before I nodded. Needs must.
~ ~ ~
"Give me one reason I shouldn't cast Incarcerous on this fiend and call the Aurors."
I had to hand it to her. Aside from the fact I needed to work to undo the horrible damage I'd done, I could not honestly think of any.
"I love him."
Hermione stood, earnest and defiant by my side.
I wasn't sure which of us was more flummoxed, Pomona or myself.
~ ~ ~
The two witches chatted ceaselessly as I worked in my lab.
I could only spare half an ear to their conversation, but I heard my name often, as well as Hermione's half of the story and how she had come to be placed in such straits.
Pomona asked the expected questions and quickly agreed that Hermione was most definitely of age and could make up her own mind as to whom, if anyone, to let know of her whereabouts. It seemed her parents were vacationing, something she had insisted they do without her, and she had no intention of saying anything to them until they returned. Her friends she was less concerned about. It seemed a large number of them had perished during Death Eater raids or while defending others during skirmishes, including her one-time redheaded paramour. This was one reason she had not gone with her parents. She felt the remaining members of what was once known as Dumbledore's Army, as well as the Order, needed all the help she could give.
It was only when the discussion turned to my own experiences, particularly what the Dark Lord had forced me to do, that I felt the need to interfere.
"Silence, woman," I interrupted Hermione. "Am I to have no secrets?"
Before she could speak, Pomona said quietly, "It is secrets that have brought us here, Severus. Yours. Albus's, may he rest in peace. That wicked snake killing people even as we speak. Too many secrets."
Hermione added, "Pomona is a witness, Severus. You will need one. More than just me. Hagrid, too. You will need others to speak on your behalf if anything happens to me."
The tight knot that twisted within my stomach at her statement made me realize what I'd been denying for days. I spoke without even thinking.
"Nothing will happen to you. Not if I can help it."
"Just so," Pomona said approvingly. "Love suits you, Severus, my boy."
I scowled; Hermione just smiled, but continued to relate the story of how I'd kept from filling her with poison before the Dark Lord...and what happened after.
~ ~ ~
I was nearly asleep that night when Hermione slid down against me and carefully worked me into her mouth. I froze, and then tried to withdraw, but she was insistent, sucking me to full hardness with a rapidity that belied my intentions.
"Hermione."
She pulled back now to take me in hand. She spoke as she stroked me.
"You've not been bitten in a few days now."
"Aye."
"I think my theory might be correct," she murmured, kissing the glob of moisture that had seeped from the head of my cock. "But I refuse to test it by not doing this regularly just the same."
How could I gainsay her?
I lay my head back and studied the ceiling.
"This is not going to make me forgive you for telling Pomona everything that happened."
She considered this while slowly licking the tip, over and over until I gasped, trembling helplessly before her.
"Prig," she said before starting to suck me in earnest.
~ ~ ~
It was during breakfast in my quarters the next day that Hagrid gave us all the latest news.
"Remus says the Muggles got a cure. Hardly any of 'em have died o' this plague 'cept the really old and weak. Remus says word's done spread and some wizards are going to Muggle hospitals and asking for help."
"Oh my God." Hermione put her hands to her mouth, eyes bright.
"What is it, dear?"
"I didn't even think of it, but this plague might actually be a blessing in disguise. The wizards who are helped, they will be grateful to Muggles. There will be less hatred between our worlds."
"Not all wizards will go," I noted.
Pomona and Hermione smiled and soon Hagrid joined them. I dipped my head to eat, hiding my feelings.
I could not brighten at the knowledge that blood purists, mostly Death Eaters and their kin, would remain at the mercy of this blight I'd caused. Not all of them were Death Eaters by choice. Not all of them were cruel.
~ ~ ~
The news grew better as I finally completed the first batch of plague prophylactic some days later.
At dinner that night, Pomona told us she'd heard from her sister in Dufton, who had told her the affected people were given anteebytoxes or some such by the local Muggle doctor; pills with funny names and in different colours to take at different times, and they were slowly getting better. Hot medicinal teas were taking care of coughs and fevers.
Hagrid told us they'd found Rabastan Lestrange's body near St. Mungo's, lips black, neck and chest covered with buboes, a victim of the plague. It was our first indication that my ritual to reverse the Death Eaters' protection from the plague was working.
This changed my plan of strategy only slightly.
~ ~ ~
That night was the first night I took a willing witch into my arms.
I could scarcely credit her desire as I turned to her and kissed her and felt her gladly, nay joyously, kissing me back.
It was almost enough to make me believe in miracles.
Almost.
~ ~ ~
I was near the front gates when she stopped me.
"I may not have a wand, Severus," she called.
"But I do," Pomona finished.
I turned then to them both, holding Hermione's wand at my side, and sighed.
"I must do this."
"You must do nothing of the kind. We will tell the Order, then we will see what is to be done."
"Pomona, they will not act in time. The Death Eaters are--"
Whatever I was going to inform her was lost in an agony of sensation, stemming from my suddenly writhing Dark Mark.
I dropped the wand, fell to the frost-covered ground and fought to remain conscious.
Hermione came to my aid immediately and bade me to hold on until she could get me inside. She asked Pomona to fetch Hagrid and assured her she had her wand back. I hoped Hermione would not apply her unique cure in their presence, but could not voice this hope before I lost consciousness.
~ ~ ~
This wasn't the snake. This was a summons, retribution, and a sign of His anger. It seemed likely that he was upset at me for Death Eaters dying.
I writhed and sweated and fought without success to keep from moaning.
In privacy, Hermione had, indeed, tried her cure, but it had done nothing but increase my pain, and the urge to return to the Dark Lord's side was great. I was restrained only by the presence of so many wands... and my love. The wands I ignored.
"Hermione, are you sure? He's tricked us before."
Thus spake the saviour of the Wizarding world.
Harry bloody Potter, Minerva, Lupin, his wife, Sturgis Podmore, a fair number of Weasleys, Luna Lovegood, Lee Jordan and Katie Bell were all gathered in the Teachers' Lounge at Hogwarts. They were all, we were soberly informed, of what was left of the Order, aside from a few who were in St. Mungo's. Sprout and Hagrid had also joined them. Winky hovered near Hermione and me, wringing her hands.
"I'll gladly deposit my memories in a Pensieve for you to look at, Harry, or take Veritaserum, if you prefer. I'm not ashamed of what happened to me, to us."
"Aperio manum inicere malefactoris," intoned Lupin without a pause, waving his wand over us both.
A bright green glow emanated from my Dark Mark and Hermione's burn-scarred cheek.
Harry waited to hear Lupin's findings.
"There's no tampering, no charm, hex or curse, aside from the Dark Mark," he reported.
"Winky could be telling you this," the Elf muttered now, a sullen look to her. "Master Severus is not tainted. Master Severus may be a cross man, but he is a good wizard!"
"No offense, Winky, but you were House Elf to a very bad man. This doesn't fill me with confidence," Potter stated. Then he frowned. "Why is Hermione's cheek glowing?"
I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth and held my arm against my chest, fighting the pain and to keep from hearing her response.
"Severus's mark bites him now, sometimes. The poison travels in his system until it's forced out. Voldemort forced some out of him and pushed my face in it."
Various exclamations were made, although they were not as bad as I know they would have been if she'd been a bit more forthcoming.
"They are linked in some way," Lupin noted now.
Before anyone could respond to this, Hermione hotly retorted, "I should hope so, as we're lovers!"
I reached a hand out to her and she grasped it without hesitation. It was quite touching really, except that I'd been intending to calm her. I knew emotion was already running far too high.
Sprout's voice rose above the hubbub that followed Hermione's declaration.
"That's quite enough of that!" She amplified her voice and glared her best Head of House glare at them all, before dropping her wand to speak normally.
"We've no time to be wasting whilst poor Severus is in agony. Not to mention there's few enough of us left. How many more can we afford to lose to prejudice or unreasoning fear? My sister tells me word of mouth says plague has left us with a third of our numbers in every village. Think of that -- two out of three of our numbers are gone."
She let her words sink in before continuing.
"Now I've been fully apprised of the situation by Miss Granger and I have this to say: I stand by her decisions. She is of age. She knows what she is doing, and Severus is a honourable man, whatever some of you might think. No one would go through what he has gone through and still be on the side of that vile madman. What's in the past is in the past and whatever he's done, it's been for a good reason. So get busy fighting the right enemy, I say, and stop squabbling amongst yourselves like so many chickens."
Before anyone could say anything else, Hagrid stepped forward and cleared his throat.
"I agree with Hermione and Pomona. I seen how bad off Snape was when he got to the castle. It were touch and go if he even lived, full up with snake venom and burning with fever. He's not stopped working on a cure for the plague since afore he even got well enough to work. So I guess I'm speaking for him, too."
Minerva sighed. "As is the castle. Harry. The entire grounds of Hogwarts are warded against Death Eaters. I want you to think about that, as well as the fact Severus has been here for quite some time."
In the silence that fell, I gave Potter the plague prophylactic. I explained to him it was one possible carrot we could dangle before the Dark Lord, since Death Eaters were now affected by the plague and none would dare seek a Muggle cure.
Then, as he looked at me with incredulity, I asked him to cut off my arm.
~ ~ ~
The voices were urgent and varied, conveying tones of concern I could scarcely credit.
"We can't." Hermione.
"There may be no other way, child." Minerva.
"It may not help at all. Then what good would we have done?"
"His fever's higher now." Pomona.
"I've got some medicinal tea. It might help." Molly.
"I doubt it, it's the Dark Magic infecting him. You can't counteract it with tea." Lupin.
"Winky can be doing nothing. Oh, poor, poor Master!"
There was a silence, punctuated only by Winky's sobs, into which Hagrid spoke.
"You got to fight dark with light. Ain't no other way."
"I can't imagine what could possibly counteract this foul Mark," Minerva murmured.
I could not complain when Hermione softly admitted to having used love, in the physical sense, to successfully counteract the snake venom, but that it seemed powerless against the Mark. It seemed that, after this, I would have no secrets, assuming I survived. Perhaps it was best if I didn't.
The Irish lilt of Luna Lovegood broke the silence that followed this.
"Love can be pure or impure, but is usually mixed with elements of both. It's not just love, Hermione, but purity. That's the answer."
I lost consciousness before I heard the rest of the discussion.
~ ~ ~
It was Lovegood, or so I was informed, who spoke to the unicorn and brought it to me.
I had been levitated to a spot near Hagrid's hut and it was there that the beast worked its magic.
The tip of its horn touched to my Dark Mark had made it writhe and blur and, per Potter, the snake screamed invective loud enough to make him think his ears would burst. Hermione said it hissed as loud as a storm. I could not hear it over my own shrieking voice; Crucio felt kind in comparison.
The tip of its horn piercing the eye of the Dark Mark had caused it to bleed forth, even as a terrific and powerful wind swirled about the unicorn and me and seemingly made to sweep us both away. The unicorn stood its ground, impaling my arm to the ground, which turned ashen.
Where my mark bled into the soil, a smoking crater grew. When the foulness had bled entirely out, both unnatural wind and unicorn had withdrawn. The creature had snuffled and rubbed its horn on the grass, which turned black, and then pressed it into the soil by the roots of a yew tree, which turned bone white. After this, Luna had thanked it, gentled it, and Hermione had approached. It had eyed her warily, and then gently nicked her burnt cheek with the tip of its horn before trotting swiftly away, shaking its head.
Where the tainted blood had curved down my arm, a deep burn in the shape of an S remained, even after clean water rinsed my arm free of toxin and burn salve had been applied. Hermione's own cheek held a scar like a comet, an apt image for one who blazed so brightly.
We discovered much later that they were the only scars we now had on our entire bodies.
~ ~ ~
The Final Battle was scarcely worth its name, although the pundits would have their way, despite not knowing any details or even interviewing anyone who was actually present.
The Dark Lord and the few Death Eaters who had not succumbed to the plague were found in the rickety household at Little Hangleton. They could scarcely speak, much less hurl curses. The only thing deadly they spewed forth was phlegm, but the Order had all taken the prophylaxis.
History would eventually record that Harry Potter not only offered them healing, but fought to save some of them out of the goodness of his heart. Some historians even recorded that it was Harry Potter who created the cure for the plague, although anyone who had known of his Potion marks in school would laugh at this notion.
In actuality, Potter informed Riddle that his Horcruxes were destroyed. Then he gave him a choice: he and his Death Eaters could take the potion made by his traitor and live to stand trial or they could die.
The Dark Lord's eyes fixed on me and he laughed as he poked his own Dark Mark with the point of his wand, hissing maniacally.
Screams erupted from the household as the Death Eaters' Dark Marks flared to life and began to bite them. Soon, only Riddle remained and his red eyes glared death at me.
This might have been more effective if he hadn't done so many times before.
I lifted my arm to show him I was free of his taint.
"Sorry to disappoint. But if it helps, there are plenty of others who wish me dead."
The wand flew faster than the eye could track it. The last thing I heard before it pierced my chest was Hermione screaming, as Potter shouted out the Killing Curse.
~ ~ ~
Even in this there was a blessing.
When the healers at St. Mungo's repaired the hole in my chest, they discovered I had a hole in my heart. I'd apparently had it all my life. There had been times, when I had been under stress, that I had felt nearly strangled, with blood pounding in my head and making me flushed. I could barely even speak at those times, feeling faint and short of breath. I had always thought it a character flaw; now I knew better.
They fixed it without ceremony and released me to Hermione's care.
She kissed me and then told me we were to marry before her parents returned.
I had no objections, although I wondered at her haste. Four months later, I stopped wondering.
~ ~ ~
I woke to the sight of my wife's burgeoning belly outlined by the dancing light from my bedroom fireplace.
Child of rape some would say. Hermione refused to hear my thoughts on the matter. She told me she had consented. She said she knew I had no choice. Part of me still hated what I'd had to do. She insisted the child had been conceived of care and concern if not love at first, and therefore it was not tainted. Part of me was afraid of what the child conceived of a Death Eater in the darkest of circumstances might become.
I did not wish to become known as the father of the next Dark Lord. Hermione insisted our child could no more be a Dark Lord than could Winky. Winky concurred, although my fears in this regard would not be allayed. I set them aside though, as I was far more afraid of what I was about to become.
The school was to re-open again next summer.
Winky's help or not, only a person the school knew could be the rightful Headmaster could enter the office when the school was closed.
Albus had insisted on ceremony. Minerva had placed the Sorting Hat on my head before what remained of the Order and the staff in the Teachers' Lounge.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, Headmaster Snape!"
I am reliably informed that the gasps of surprise were rapidly drowned out by titters of laughter after I fainted.
Albus's picture insisted it could not be another. The school needed someone young for stability's sake, and someone who well understood the duality of human nature. It also called for guile and cunning.
More importantly, after the hideous and life-destroying war, the prejudice against Slytherins was quite high. The school accepting a Slytherin as its Headmaster spoke more eloquently than any testimonial.
Still, I never told anyone that my sole reason for agreeing was to impress Hermione's parents. My father had been a Muggle, and I remembered well just how formidable Muggles could be. In the new world we were about to forge, I had to make sure others knew this also.
~ ~ ~
END
~ ~ ~
Written for the smutty_claus exchange and posted on: 12 Dec 2006