This Present Darkness

Chapter Five

"Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine."

Song of Solomon 1:2

"They rewarded me evil for good to the spoiling of my soul."

Psalm 35:12

Hermione had owled her friends a few days earlier with an invitation for a party. She had suddenly wanted friends around her. Snape's presence made her feel lonelier at times not less lonely; especially now as he was pretending that nothing had happened between them the previous night.

She had told Snape about the party well in advance and had expected him to absent himself but to her surprise, he didn't.

Seamus and Dean arrived first, hand in hand. They had finally got it together in 7^th year, much to Hermione's relief. Their relationship had gotten off to a slow start. She had hated seeing her two friends circling each other for so long and the tension had nearly killed them all. They both hugged Hermione enthusiastically and exclaimed over her home as soon as they arrived.

The Weasleys arrived next, Ron and Ginny with the twins. George showed up with his new girlfriend Pandora, a pretty witch who he had met through their joke shop. Fred came along too, grinning all over his freckled face. Their mother had sent Hermione some party food which she put with the rest of it. Ron, George and Fred immediately set off to explore the foreign Muggle home while Ginny and Pandora helped Hermione put out the food.

Harry came next in his Chudley Canons practice gear, having come straight from work. He grinned at her and hugged her hard then went over and kissed Ginny soundly. Padma and Lavendar arrived together, looking stunning in their trendy gear and Neville followed closely behind with his girlfriend, Susan Bones. Ron, who had returned from the nether regions of the house by that time made a bee-line for Padma.

The party was in full swing very quickly. Butterbeer, Muggle beer and spirits flowed freely. Fred and George set up bar and made up peculiar cocktails for the girls which Ginny flatly refused to drink claiming that the two had probably hexed them. Hermione felt very relaxed and happy for the first time in weeks.

Close to midnight Padma and Lavendar insisted on playing spin the bottle. Hermione usually refused to play on the grounds that it was childish but she felt childish that night and decided she would join in. As the game was being set up, Snape came upstairs to get something from the kitchen. They all froze as they saw their old Potions Master but blinked when they saw the bare feet, jeans and t-shirt. He stiffened when he realized he was being examined and was going to content himself with a sneer in their general direction when he recognized what they were doing.

A prickle ran along his skin, raising fine dark hairs. His face suddenly became masked and guarded as he glanced at Hermione. He tensed when he realized she was staring right back.

"Why don't you join us, Professor Snape?" Hermione asked, both her tone and her gaze challenging. She had thrown down the gauntlet and Snape knew it. The others watched this development with interest. If Snape backed off, it was obvious he'd have conceded a defeat of some kind. On the other hand, it didn't seem quite right for a former teacher to join in spin the bottle.

He hesitated for a second or two, then padded silently across the carpet on his pale, slender feet. The others observed this with their mouths open. Hermione and Harry budged apart to make room for him. Everyone glanced nervously at each other. Kissing Snape was too strange to contemplate. He was still a nasty Potions Master to them and nothing more.

"I'll play one round," he said smoothly, returning Hermione's challenge with an answering flash of his dark eyes.

Hermione was in a pleasant, Schnapps-induced haze. She watched Seamus kiss Ginny with Harry looking on in amusement, Dean kissed Neville with Seamus rolling his eyes at Neville's nervousness. Padma kissed Harry while Ginny giggled and then Lavendar kissed Ginny while Harry looked on with interest. Hermione spun the bottle lazily, not really caring where it landed as she was too drunk to be bothered who she kissed.

Everyone held their breath when it landed on Snape. Hermione wanted to giggle and she looked at her stern guardian from under her eyelashes. As it was her turn, she had to kiss him. He was too tall for her to simply lean over and kiss so she knelt up and put her hands on his knees, leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips.

Snape was holding his breath and his face had gone a shade paler. He wanted to lean away from her, not because he didn't want to kiss her but because he was afraid to. Of course, he couldn't do that and not give away his panic. She tasted of Butterscotch and it was over too soon.

"That wasn't a real kiss!" Seamus protested, teasing her.

"Yeah, you didn't even try and slip in the tongue," a drunk Ron added, annoyed that he hadn't got a kiss from anyone yet.

Hermione just laughed as she sat down again. Everyone watched expectantly as Snape spun the bottle. It landed on Hermione. More than one person suspected it wasn't an accident. Hermione grinned at Snape in pure malicious amusement.

He leaned forward, his silky dark hair brushing against her face and gently touched his lips to her own. She expected that to be it, he was her guardian and they did have an audience. She was wrong. One strong, long-fingered hand curled around the nape of her neck as the tip of his tongue probed her lips. The minute she parted them, he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

Everyone in the living room grew wide-eyed as the kiss deepened and lengthened beyond what was decent even for spin the bottle. "Geez! Get a room!" Seamus said finally, rolling his eyes at them.

Snape immediately withdrew, his eyes shuttered. "Well, Miss Granger. I've played my one round and it's time to go," he drawled coldly, his dark eyes gleaming in the half light. "I'll leave you children to yourselves," he added, emphasizing the word 'children' rather insultingly.

Hermione felt hurt by the coldness of his tone after the heat of his kiss but she merely flicked him a cool glance as he got up from the circle. For all the passion that had leaped between them, they were still as chilly as the Arctic to each other. No-one noticed his lips move as he left the room and everyone thought it simply odd that the bottle never landed on Hermione again for the rest of the evening.

Once he had gone, Lavendar turned to her with wide eyes. "What was it like kissing Snape?" she asked in a tone of morbid fascination.

"I would say he's a very practiced kisser," Hermione replied cynically.

A few hours later, Hermione saw them off and went to bed. She could still feel Snape's hand on her nape like an imprint. She could still taste him and still feel the roughness of his feint stubble against her face. She couldn't help smiling to herself. It certainly felt good.

In his rooms downstairs, Snape had been lying awake for hours by then. He was curled up on his side in his bed. His face burned every time he remembered the velvety feel of her skin and the incredible softness of her lips, the fall of her heavy hair against his skin. He had overhead his remark about his kiss being 'practiced'. Well, next to the callow kisses she would have received from teen-age boys to date in her life, it probably did seem that way. He wondered if anyone else had twigged to the spells he had put on the bottle to allow him to kiss her twice and then ensure no-one else did. A smile tugged at one corner of his lean mouth. He hoped Harry didn't get too frustrated waiting for a turn that would never come. The smile disappeared when he considered it was very unlikely he himself would ever get to kiss her again. He shivered and his expression darkened. A very long night lay before him.

* * *

Snape decided to go back and see Dumbledore the next morning about Hermione's mental state. Maybe he could get some advice on what to do next time he found books and abuse being launched at him by a terrifyingly angry teenage girl. As Hermione was sleeping off the effects of the alcohol from the night before, Snape found it easy to slip out via the fireplace.

Dumbledore seemed pleased to see him. "Back so soon, Severus?" he asked cheerfully.

"Well, I've got a report on her mental state," Snape began sourly. "She's completely mad."

Dumbledore raised his white eyebrows in surprise at this blunt statement. "Oh, I very much doubt that Severus. Hermione doesn't strike me as the type to go mad at any crisis," he disagreed mildly.

"She was throwing books at me, swearing and generally having a fit," Snape snapped. "I had no idea what to do or how to calm her down. I made rather a mess of it," he added resentfully. "I'm not qualified for dealing with hysterical teenagers."

"She was throwing a fit, you say? Well, it's about time, really. She couldn't keep all that emotion bottled up forever. I suspect she's one of those people who would rather be angry than sad," Dumbledore observed with interest. Snape snorted. Dumbledore tried not to smile in amusement but didn't quite manage it. "So, how did you handle it?" he asked curiously.

Snape was silent for a few moments, glowering at the carpet. "Very badly, as I said. Everything I said just made her abuse me all the more," he complained bitterly.

"Ah well, at least she got some of it out of her system," Dumbledore said, completely unconcerned.

"I didn't appreciate the abuse," Snape said stiffly.

Dumbledore examined him closely. "She hurt your feelings, didn't she Severus?" he said keenly. "Try not to take the things she said to heart. People who are upset say things they don't mean," he added comfortingly.

"I have no doubt she meant every word," Snape said coldly. "Still, it's no concern to me what a bratty teenager says in the midst of a passion. I just don't appreciate being treated like a punching bag."

Dumbledore looked closely at his Potion Master's proud, shuttered expression and knew exactly how much it suddenly mattered to Snape what this particular 'bratty teenager' had to say to him. His heart ached for him. Snape was so inadequate at human relationships that caring about anyone hurt him. That was why he preferred not to care for anyone.

"If you feel unable to cope again Severus, let me know and I'll speak to Hermione myself. She needs all the support she can get right now and maybe one adult isn't enough for the time being," he suggested kindly.

Snape nodded but said, "I can cope. I just don't like it."

Dumbledore smiled. "I think you are doing a very good job, Severus. She must trust you to a certain extent to allow you to see her so upset. I doubt anyone has ever seen her in a state like that. I doubt she'd show that to even her closest friends," he said reassuringly.

"No, I'm a much better target for her hatred and anger," he said sullenly.

"For her grief and confusion," Dumbledore corrected gently. Snape merely sneered and refused to answer. "Don't give up on her yet, Severus. I have a feeling that young Hermione will be a person of great use to the wizarding community once she gets slightly older. This time will be crucial to her development. From what I am hearing tonight, you really are doing an excellent job in a very difficult situation," Dumbledore continued thoughtfully. Snape looked dark but still didn't reply. "Have you had any calls from the Death Eaters lately?" Dumbledore asked, tactfully changing the subject.

"No. They've been quiet. They generally are over the summer. I am expecting a call soon, now that the summer break is nearly over," Snape replied restlessly, throwing himself into a chair.

"Well, you have the perfect excuse not to go. You can say that 'the doddering old fool made you look after one of the students for a few months'," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Yes, I'm hoping that will work," Snape said quietly with a sigh.

"If you're broken and bruised from more torture, you won't be able to look after Hermione so you will have to use that excuse Severus," Dumbledore demanded as sternly as he was able.

"Yes," Snape sighed again. "Talking of Miss Granger, I had better go back to the house. She's sleeping off a hangover at the moment, inbetween not talking to me and I should make sure I'm there to be a target for her abuse in case any more is forthcoming," Snape said with a weary and resigned kind of sarcasm.

Dumbledore didn't bother to hide his amused smile. "Quite. Off you go then and keep me informed, Severus," Dumbledore said crisply as he watched the tall, slim professor unfold himself from the seat he had been slouched in.

Snape stepped into the fireplace and was gone in an instant. Dumbledore smiled cheerfully to himself and went to give his phoenix some cake. "Well, it's all going very well Fawkes," he said complacently. The phoenix cocked its head at the Head Master and gave him a cynical look before pecking the offered cake out of his hands.

* * *

Snape found the next day very long. Hermione had recovered with the speed of the young from her hang over and was still not talking to him. He was starting to find this childishness rather tedious but he was glad she hadn't demanded an explanation of his behaviour the other night at the party. If she had, he had no idea what he would have said. He barely understood his own behaviour. Why, after telling her that he couldn't touch her because he was her guardian, did he turn around the very next night and kiss her thoroughly? Not only kiss her thoroughly but do so in front of a large audience of very curious ex-students of his? It was absurd. It was crazy. It made no sense at all. Snape was not used to doing things that made no sense. He felt totally off-balance and as though he had suddenly turned into somebody else.

Meanwhile, Hermione was telling herself she didn't care why Snape had kissed her the way he had at the party after seeming to reject her only the night before. The important thing was, that he had and she was quite satisfied with that. It seemed like the perfect revenge to her. To make the man who had pushed her away only the night before, kiss her passionately in front of other people. The mere thought made her smirk with satisfaction. She was not talking to him only because he had subsequently been so cold and it miffed her. Let him be like that, she thought with a mental shrug. She could still feel complacent about the fact he hadn't been so cold when he'd kissed her, not either time.

The day dragged and Snape spent a lot of it either outside in the garden, raking early Autumn leaves or reading Muggle books in his downstairs sitting room. He had discovered Edgar Allen Poe and Bram Stoker which were much to his taste. He had tried to read Jane Austen but had given up as nothing ever seemed to happen in them but conversations and tea parties. Those are witches' books, Snape decided after getting halfway through 'Emma'. He had already read the children's novels as they contained lots of Muggle ideas of magic that were sometimes quite accurate and sometimes quite ridiculous. He thought C S Lewis and Madeleine L'Engle were the most accurate.

His lunch was plonked down in front of him unceremoniously and he was studiously ignored throughout the meal. After lunch, she went to sleep some more and he didn't see her for the rest of the day.

When Hermione woke up late in the afternoon, she felt dangerously restless. She wanted to run but not like a human could. She wanted to feel soft earth and dead leaves under her feet and breathe cold night air. She wanted a star -studded sky overhead and the smell of ancient trees. She knew deep within herself what was happening and quickly she took some floo powder to the fireplace. "The Three Broomsticks," she said.

As soon as she got there, Hermione pushed her way through the crowd to the door and out onto the cobbled streets. As twilight fell, she made her way to the Dark Forest. Once again, she felt like she could burst out of her skin. As soon as she reached the perimeter, she began running. It wasn't long before ebony hooves were sparking against the flint stones on the forest floor. She could never quite pick that moment of transformation.

* * *

In Snape's rooms downstairs, a black owl tapped at one of the windows. Snape let it in and untied the message. It was from Rosmerta. She had seen Hermione arrive and rapidly depart, heading directly for the Dark Forest. Snape started swearing viciously.

Still swearing, he took a pinch of floo to follow her. Once there, he acknowledged Rosmerta's concerned look with a nod and ducked outside into an alley. Quickly he transformed into his own animagus raven form and flew out into the Dark Forest.

* * *

Hermione ran until she was exhausted. After resting for a short time, she'd run again. The landscape blurred around her, the scents subtle and refreshing. She never felt so calm or so alive as in her animagus form. She was queen of this place as a black unicorn. The other creatures kept a respectful distance even as they watched her curiously. She was completely unmolested in this place, it was her domain and she had nothing to prove here.

While resting by a stream in the early hours of the morning, she didn't notice a shiny black bird alight nearby. Swiftly and silently Snape transformed. He stood very still, watching the mesmerising beast. He knew it was Hermione and yet it was something so completely 'other' too. A raven was innocuous. A black unicorn dominated whatever environment it was in by its sheer extraordinary rarity. It provoked fascination.

Suddenly, one molten red and gold eye was fixed on him. The unicorn whinnied and bucked. I guess that means she's still not talking to me, Snape thought wryly. He was pinned by a look of red-eyed anger from the beast that totally paralysed him and as he stood frozen, the unicorn took off again with supernatural speed.

He made a mental note of the fact that black unicorns could paralyse with a glance when provoked. Reluctantly, he transformed back into a raven to try and track her again but he doubted he would find her a second time that night. It had taken hours to find her the first time.

* * *

As dawn began to break Snape flew back to the Three Broomsticks and transformed back just in time to use the pub's fireplace to get back to Hermione's home before it shut.

"She came back through a few hours ago," Rosmerta told Snape, as he dragged his tired body through the door. He merely nodded.

When he got back to her home, he found her fast asleep in her bed. She didn't stir for the entire day.

* * *

It was getting on towards dinner time when the first searing, burning pain hit. He grasped his forearm in a reflex action and fell out of his chair in agony, his mouth open in a silent scream. The pain was unbelievable. It was not usually this bad. He looked at the Dark Mark on his arm. It was burning red. The pain died down slightly and he dragged himself back into the chair. This could go on all night, he knew. Especially if he did not answer which he couldn't while he was here with Hermione. He swore under his breath.

Another blast of pain hit, worse than the first. He moaned under his breath and sweat stood out on his forehead. He had no idea how he would endure the pain if it continued as badly as this. Voldemort was either very angry or the meeting was very urgent or both. Maybe he should go, he considered? He dismissed the idea. Dumbledore had told him not to and he respected Dumbledore enough to follow orders. A third explosion of pain hit and Snape passed out, sliding out of the chair as he lost consciousness.

Not long after, Hermione called down the stairs to say dinner was ready. She had gotten up only an hour before. When she got no response at all, she ventured down stairs to find him. Sometimes he was still out in the garden after dark, tidying up or taking a walk. She found him in the sitting room almost immediately and drew her breath in sharply. Deliberately keeping a cool head, she carefully examined him and noticed the sweat on his forehead but, she noted, he had no fever. She bit her lip. She couldn't see any injury and he was still breathing. She pushed up his sleeve to take his pulse and that was when she saw the Dark Mark burning a bright, vicious red against his skin. She could feel the heat coming off it. She shook her head in anger when she saw the brutal methods of the Death Eaters against their own. Quickly she got up and went to her parents' old room. They had a small safe full of strong medications there that they had not wanted kept on their work premises overnight. She had been given the combination by her parents' solicitor, and quickly and efficiently she took out a disposable needle and a bottle of morphine.

As she went back downstairs she thought about how grateful she was that watching her parents over the years had unconsciously taught her so much about pain management and pain killers. They were dangerous drugs but she knew exactly how much she could administer without causing damage. She also knew how to give an injection correctly.

After closing all the curtains, she used a levitating spell to get Snape to his bed. It was tiring but as it was only a short distance, she could manage it. Carefully she prepared the morphine shot and administered it correctly. Less than 15 minutes later, Snape opened his eyes groggily. He was no longer in pain but he felt very muddled. He squinted at her in the half light. "Hermione?"

"Yes, it's alright. I gave you some morphine to kill the pain. You'll need to sleep it off and hopefully when you wake up the bastards will have left you alone again," she said with blunt anger.

He nodded and as he closed his eyes, he saw her settle back in a chair beside the bed with a book. Obviously, she wasn't going anywhere for a while. He found the thought oddly comforting although usually he would hate someone watching him sleep.

Hermione stayed with him throughout the night, dropping off herself now and then. He wasn't used to the drug so he slept soundly throughout the night. He woke up around 7am and the Dark Mark had turned black once more and was no longer burning. When he woke up, Hermione gave him lots of water and waited while he drank it. When he'd finished, she asked, "How often does this happen?"

Snape shrugged. "It's unpredictable. Sometimes more than once a week, sometimes we'll go for months without a meeting."

"Does it usually hurt so much that you pass out?" she asked with an angry frown.

"No but it's generally bad enough. I actually half-considered going tonight because it was abnormally bad. I suspect that the meeting was on an urgent topic or that Voldemort was angry about something. He gets spiteful when he's angry," Snape explained.

"I bet," Hermione said sarcastically with a sneer. "What do you do at these meetings?" she added curiously.

Snape didn't reply immediately and his eyes become hooded as one restless hand picked at the bedspread. "Voldemort usually talks at us for awhile - just propaganda. Pretty much the same things I grew up hearing about mudbloods. Then he goes on about various strategies the Death Eaters are using against them and after that we all report on our particular assignments. People who have been successful are rewarded, those who have failed are punished. By that time, it's usually early morning and we need to leave."

Hermione nodded. It was pretty much what she would have expected. "Is there still an inner circle?" she asked.

"Yes but its much smaller now, of course," Snape replied, still not looking at her.

"Are you part of it?" she asked directly.

He glanced at her with guarded eyes. "No. Voldemort no longer trusts me after my first defection. I don't go to all the meetings, just the general ones with all the Death Eaters."

"So you don't have access to his most important plans. The long term ones," Hermione mused aloud.

"No. Not yet. I'm working on that at the moment," Snape said restlessly.

"These rewards and punishments," Hermione began. Snape winced. "What are they?" she asked forthrightly.

Snape shrugged. "The rewards depend on who wants them. They usually involve the mudblood prisoners. Some of the Death Eaters want prisoners for sexual purposes. Some want them to run experiments on. Some want slaves. Other rewards are financial or to be given some secret knowledge like a rare charm or spell or potion recipe. Sometimes, it's promotion to the inner circle but that's rare," Snape responded in a flat, depressed tone.

"And the punishments?" Hermione persisted gently.

"Nothing very original. Usually it's the cruciatus curse or being given a particularly distasteful or humiliating assignment. Sometimes it's very crude, just a beating by some of the other Death Eaters," Snape sounded resigned, almost bored.

Hermione nodded but said nothing. She wondered how many times he'd suffered the cruciatus curse at Voldemort's hands and how many times he had been beaten by other Death Eaters. As she knew he was unlikely to deliver 'mudbloods' into Voldemort's hands or pass on information truly useful to the Death Eaters' cause anymore, it was likely he was punished frequently for 'failure'.

"Well, if it really was an important meeting then I'm sure you'll hear something about it soon," Hermione observed.

"Without doubt," Snape said heavily. Just at that moment, they heard tapping on the bedroom window. Hermione pulled aside the curtain and saw a magnificent black owl outside. She let it in and it dropped a letter sealed with the Dark Mark beside Snape. He looked at it distastefully and then did a surprising thing. He picked up his wand that had been on his bedside table and said a charm to protect against harm directed at both himself and her. Then he opened the envelope.

"What do they do with those letters that means you need protection to open them?" Hermione demanded indignantly.

"They sometimes put poison in with them or hex them if they want to get rid of one of the ranks," Snape said casually, frowning distractedly at the contents of the letter.

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Oh yeah, I can see why people would be rushing to join this little club," she muttered sarcastically.

He sat up suddenly and his frown grew deeper as he read on. "I will have to go to the next meeting," Snape said to himself decisively. Hermione gazed at him silently. "Something big is happening. I need to find out what it is," he added, glancing at her. Hermione nodded. She hoped whenever the next meeting was that he didn't get punished for not going to the last one.

"I'm going to make some breakfast and I think you should eat something. You didn't get dinner last night," she said with mild bossiness.

"Neither did you," Snape observed.

"No and I'm hungry," she said, getting up from the chair and yawning.

"And tired. You'd better get some sleep today," he ordered.

"Yes, I will," she agreed and left to make breakfast. Snape's shuttered black eyes followed her as she left the room. Having her in his bedroom made him nervous. Not of her but of himself. It was perhaps fortunate that the morphine had knocked his system around so much otherwise his body's response to the intimacy of having her in his room may have given him away - again.

He glanced down at the letter and crumpled it. It disappeared in a small flash of green light. It was the disciplinary letter he had expected for not going to the meeting last night but it contained a curious urgency. Something was afoot.