The Birds and the Bees

The night bit cold and damp. A ripe yellow moon hanging in the sky illuminated leftover raindrops still clinging to the grass from an earlier rainfall. Hermione felt her ankles growing cold and wet as they walked, and she shivered slightly. Annoyingly, the man beside her stalked, stiff and silent, over the uneven ground with all the grace and poise of a cat while Hermione could only stumble and stagger along in the half-dark.

She had to wonder...how was it that Snape seemed to be able to see so clearly through the gloom, when it should be her that was able to reach through the gloom and feel the earth reveal its pattern to her feet? The darkness almost seemed to muffle her magic, and for a moment she lost her grip on the voice of the ground beneath her. She panicked for a moment...until she realised that she could still hear a steady, earthy heartbeat - thrumming in her ears and mingling with the sound of her own heart's thumpity thump.

Still, though, the way the man beside her was reading the darkness was somewhat of a mystery. Perhaps he was just a creature of the night, accustomed to finding his way in the dark. ...This didn't explain, though, why the space around him had started to almost tingle and hum with energy. That voice she was accustomed to having whisper in her ear had quieted until it was almost silent; yet she could see somehow that that same voice was drifting around Snape's head now, hissing for his attention. The man remained oblivious to its pleading, though.

Hermione lit her wand a little brighter as a wave of fear washed over her. The further they got from the castle, the darker the air grew. Commonsense told her that darkness was simply the absence of light, but somehow the light-less spaces of the night felt like they were filled with something else tonight. Something almost alive...something that swirled and eddied around Snape's dark form, hurling pleas for attention into his deaf ears. She wondered if the dark of the night had always cried out to him like this...if he even knew that darkness was clinging to him like the heavy robes he wore.

What a strange night, thought Hermione.

They were still only halfway to the greenhouse, Hermione carefully following the dip and curve of the ground with her mind, when something that was very nearly music shouted out in her head. She stopped abruptly. The trilling top-notes of the nearly-song were green and damp and leafy, but below that ran a deep, rich bass-line...a sweet heavy voice that seemed so familiar...yet somehow alien at the same time.

The almost-music grew louder, becoming less of a song and more of a beckoning call. Hermione's mind flew suddenly to the potion that sat, half-completed, in the dungeons and she knew, right then, that she was hearing the voice of the missing ingredient. With a thrill of excitement running through her, she quickened her steps towards the greenhouse...and then stopped abruptly.

Because the call wasn't coming from the greenhouse at all. It was coming from beyond that - from the Forbidden Forest.

Snape had stopped when she did, and was now wearing an annoyed expression. She looked over to him, squinting as she tried to distinguish his figure from the blackness around him. She knew they had to follow the call...but how to convince her teacher to accompany her?

'Whatever is the matter?' Snape asked tersely.

Hermione struggled to put it into words.

'I felt...that is, I heard...um,' she stammered, before deciding on a slightly more Slytherin approach to he matter. 'Sir,' she said, somewhat shiftily, 'did Dumbledore possibly mention anything about giving me a certain amount of...leeway when it came to this project?'

Snape merely huffed a little and so she continued, suppressing a smile. 'So he did tell you to go along with my ideas, even if they seemed pointless or silly, did he sir?'

'Hrmph...Indeed,' said Snape, spinning the word out in a long, nasal drawl. He sounded bored, but no doubt his mind was ticking over madly, considering the implications of Hermione's question.

'Well,' said Hermione, with the hint of a grin on her voice, 'I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask for a large measure of that leeway right now, sir.'

He must have rolled his eyes, because Hermione saw the whites glitter briefly under the moonlight.

'And why might that be, Miss Granger?' he asked; his words already tinged with irritation.

'The missing ingredient for the potion,' she answered, then paused for a moment. '...I know where it is.'

'Let me guess,' muttered Snape, 'it's not in the greenhouse?'

'There's no need to be sarcastic, sir,' said Hermione brightly, grin blooming.

'Don't be impertinent, Granger,' snapped Snape, 'I can still deduct points.'

She was silent for a moment, considering how to best break the news to him. This time she decided on the Gryffindor approach - blunt and to the point.

'It's in the Forbidden Forest, sir,' she said mater-of-factly, before turning on her heel and marching towards the black hole on the horizon that was the forest. The air around the trees was so dark that light seemed to disappear into it, soaking into the gloom. Hermione strode towards the forest without looking back. Behind her she heard a poorly-stifled, exasperated sigh. Snape had caught up to her by the time she had walked ten metres, though, and they walked the rest of the way side-by-side in silence.

At the threshold to the forest, where flat green grass ended and tree-shadows began, Hermione paused. She felt Snape hesitate slightly beside her, and then stop too. She looked to him questioningly, but without looking back at her, he squared his shoulders minutely and strode forward. Hermione followed. One step took them over the threshold and, from there, there was nothing for it but to keep walking.

The air among the trees was bone-chillingly cold and damp, and thick with the gentle breathing of trees. Shadows twisted and merged until near-blackness engulfed the two walking figures.

Snape was silent, and yet there was something restless about him. Hermione could hear a question hanging about him in the gloom, and so she answered it.

'We're heading right for the centre, I think sir,' she said in a voice that was more confident than she felt. Snape didn't reply, and so they walked on.

When they first entered the forest, Hermione walked a little ahead of her teacher, listening to the song-call for guidance. As they moved further in, though, she began to get the strangest feeling that Professor Snape could hear the same call she could. He had begun by walking half a step behind her, before catching up so they walked side-by-side...but now he was ever-so-slightly ahead of her, his head inclined as if he, too, could hear that strange song humming through the air. Hermione was a little puzzled, but said nothing. Somehow she felt she shouldn't break the night's silent stillness with words. She simply caught up to her teacher and tried to stay in step with him as they neared the heart of the forest.

After a time, Snape stopped suddenly. Startled, Hermione did likewise. All was silent...but then she listened, and after a moment she heard...something, and then she saw...something...flickering lights, and was that singing? Or just wind songs? No, that was singing - just beyond them, in the very heart of the forest. A thrill of fear went through her like an electric shock, and she couldn't help but grab for her teacher's arm. His face was impassive, but touching him she could feel his heart beat fast and his blood rush and tumble through his veins. He could see and hear the same strange things, she was sure of it.

Scared as she was, though, Hermione knew that this noise and those lights were somehow what they had been following since they left the castle. The beckoning-song was overwhelming now - less of a call and more of an irresistible pull - cutting through Hermione's fear and getting right into her blood. Entrancing...As if with one mind, teacher and pupil both stepped forward to draw towards the lights that danced between the trees.

The sound of the trees breathing was louder and raspier here in the heart of the forest, and the pounding heartbeats of earth and plants and girl and man and something else mingled, growing louder and faster.

The ground here was a twisted tangle of belladonna plants, dark green leaves beckoning, and luscious black berries pulling Hermione forwards with their dark beauty. The strange flickering lights bounced off berry-surface, and the sight was hypnotising and enchanting...and Hermione grasped her teacher's arm to pull him forward faster...

She didn't even bother to cloak their footsteps in silence as they advanced; since she knew with some deep part of her that whoever or whatever called them forwards already had already heard their approach....in fact, had been waiting for them.

And so two pairs of feet walked forwards until the light grew brighter and surrounded them, and they could almost see something, ahead...dancing......

...Exactly one hour later, Hermione awoke on a couch in Professor Snape's private rooms with a splitting headache and absolutely no recollection of what had taken place that evening.