Dark twist

BY : SnapeLove
Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Remus
Dragon prints: 256
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. This story is purely for entertainment purposes, no money is being made from it.

A/N: I know I should have worked on my two on-going WIP's, but I had a week from hell and I was in a wrong frame of mind. I had this bunny hopping around my head so here it is :)

Big thank you to my beta EspadaIV for making this story free of grammar blunders I'm prone to ^_^

Step, slide, step, step again.

Hermione stumbled, and then she made few more steps. The heavy rain obscured her sight; she squinted to see better. She can't allow herself to lose her guide out of her sight. Regardless of the dark and the weather and tiredness.

Her own situation is surreal beyond any explanation.

As much as it pains her to say, she doesn't know where they are. He does. The country they are in now is poverty-stricken. Mostly countryside with hills and mountains. Poor villages and distrustful people. Harsh terrain, but at least they are safe. As safe as they can be.

“Slide down, we are followed.” His harsh whisper forced her into action.

Now they are sliding down the slope. The ground is wet and feels almost slimy under her, but she followed him without question or complaint. After so many months on the road, she trusts him completely.

Their slide ends at the bottom of the slope. Beneath them is mild fall, no higher than one metre of bedrock. A thick line of bushes covers them , and that is good. Two pedestrians are bound to attract the attention of passing cars.

In the harsh light of zooming headlights, she saw him and a startled yelp escaped her lips. His hair, left side of his face, neck, his clothes and his nads are covered in blood.

He signaled her to be quiet and then noticed. for a few long moments, she is petrified watching him as he stares at his hands, blood dripping from them. His stare is blank and intense, face unreadable. Finally, he lifts his eyes lined with dark bags and wrinkles.

“Red clay, Miss Granger. Ths area is known for it. Do be quiet.” His voice is a breathless whisper.  

In a million years she wouldn’t believe that this could happen; that her life dwindled to this. Yet she is alive, and that is a miracle on its own. But, her blessing had a face and name.

He suddenly straightened, his eyes straining to penetrate darkness around them. He reminds her of the dangerous predator, sniffing for prey, or a Gargoyle from one of the Gothic buildings, with his sharp features in a half crouch, tentatively soaking the situation around them.

She opened her mouth to say something and one boney, red-mud covered hand raised. For a moment, she thought that he would cover her mouth with it, but he just raised it and held near her face.

Suddenly, he issued a low hiss, reminding her of a snake in a grass. With a speed she never thought he might possess, he tugged her on the ground. She landed on the squishy ground, and he covered her with his body. Rivulets of water, created by rain run around them, washing away red clay. Rivers of blood. Even if she couldn’t see them, she knew they were there.  

He was massive for such skinny man. He felt heavy against her. This action, she didn’t misunderstood, there was a reason behind it. He was wearing dark gray jeans, dark gray hoodie and worn off Dr Martens, she was in light colours.  

Hermione gasped, drawing a shuddery breath, he was pressing against her lungs and abdomen. She struggled a bit, mud sloshing under her. One of his legs pressed on hers. He raised his head just enough to glare at her; that one glare delivered the message with definitively.

Stay quiet, stay put.

After a while he rolled off her. His harsh whisper vibrated in her ear. “We are not discovered. We will find the inn and stay the night.”

She nodded. He didn’t talk much, but she never expected him to. He kept her alive, against all reason and all odds. And she might even start to care for him, which was insanity on its own.

But, everything was insane these days.

They slid down on the road, and he grabbed her hand, supporting her in the way a father would. She felt a surge of pride - he trusted her enough not to explain. He expected that she would follow his lead and play along without as much as an exchanged word.

As she, trailed behind him, she slipped to the past in her thoughts.

Five months ago - Harry died.

It was stupid, pointless, accidental death. Ron left them, and she was upset enough not to reinforce the charms properly. Snatchers found them. There was fighting, and in the midst of all the brawl, Harry fell.

He slipped and fell! Harry hit his head, and that was it! - the Dark Lord won. Just like that.

The world plunged into darkness.

The funny thing is - the Dark Lord stopped hunting or prosecuting Muggleborns, he declared them the citizens of a lower rank, but he issued a full stop on harassment of Muggleborns.

She was an exception - she was still hunted.

The Order scattered, went into hiding; Ron with his family; Neville with Luna; Lupin with Tonks. Everyone seemed to pair off and vanished. She was alone, left adrift. She was hiding for two months but time and loneliness and not knowing whom to trust drow her to the point where she asked Dobby to help her sneak into the Hogwarts. Hermione needed just a touch of familiarity at that point.

She remembered how betrayed she felt after Dobby landed her in the Headmasters office. How shocked she was, seeing the look on Snape’s face. There were small jerks of his muscles - ones she read as happiness.  

He ordered her to wash and eat. He refused to listen to her.  

Hermione thought that she was doomed.

A few hours later - they were on the road. They traveled mostly by night, using Muggle means as using magic was strictly prohibited by Snape. They became stowaways on the train then a boat to get to the mainland. They sneaked across borders using back roads and god-forgotten trails and places; like this one.

She glanced at him.

Finally, they reach the country inn, if that could be called the Inn at all. A couple of tables with dirty tattered tablecloths, one bored inn-keeper and, few local drunks. She looks at them with curiosity. Severus reached the countertop and gazes at the innkeeper.

“English, do you speak it?” He asked in a polite a bit stiff, typical British manner

“Yes, a small,” she replied.

Hermione held her breath. If Snape decide to be his usual self, the girl didn’t really stand any chances, but neither did they to have a decent night’s rest.

“We need rooms. Two.” He explained, raising his hand to show number two.

The girl shook her head and raised one finger.

“I have one.”

Severus frowned, glancing at Hermione. It wasn’t like that would make a difference, they spent together many nights in far worse conditions. But she can see his discomfort and to ease the situation she touches his shoulder.

“It is fine, Dad, we can manage.”

He looks and her then nodded to her and  to the girl at the counter. The girl at the counter looked a bit perplexed. Hermione thought that she tried to look for signs of similarity and raised one eyebrow at the girl with a smirk on her face. She could do Snape if the need arises. The girl finally turned to Snape.


Snape shook his head. “I guess I am lucky she took at her mother.” he offered instead of accepting the apology.

The girl lead them to the room which seen better decades. Two single beds with overstuffed pillows and thick comforters. one table and two chairs. The girl motioned them to show the bathroom with banged up sink, one tiny shower stall, rack of clean towels, and a toilet. With a brief nod, she left them.

When they were left alone she could understand why Severus was frowning, being in the same room felt odd, more intimate somehow. Severus was rummaging through his backpack with a frown. He turned to her.

“Go on, take a shower, wash off. Here.” He gave her one of his T-shirts, faded letters spelling  “Madness”, the picture was faded beyond recognition.

“Thank you.”

The water felt great. She scrubbed not only mud but also grim piled up over months. They used showers sparsely, using brooks and rivers to wash off when locations allowed. The water around her was red and she shivered - it still reminded her of blood.

She tried to be fast but she used a good portion of the hot water by the time she was clean.

“I’m afraid that not much hot water left.” She apologized but he just shook his head and went to the bathroom. It was always the same, he didn’t speak much, mainly giving her instructions. Hermione still couldn’t understand why he was helping her. She was grateful nonetheless.

Snape emerged from the bathroom, clean of the mud, hair sticking to his head and neck.

“Birch, not a bad choice for shampoo as far as Muggle go.” He commented. “Rest tonight, Miss Granger. Our journey ends tomorrow.”

The pillow that looked overstuffed was soft, feathers filled. So was the comforter. The linens smell fresh and that smell lulled her fast to sleep. She could swear that in the middle of the night he tucked her in, but she wasn’t sure.

Tomorrow, after the rich breakfast, they continued on their way.  He lead them to the forest again and towards the caves. It was middle of the day when they entered the cave. Snape whistled, a low sound. The speck of light flew towards them and he motioned her to follow him.

They went deeper into the damp darkness. In one of the chambers, the burst of light forced her to blink away yellow spots.

“Wotcher Hermione.” She heard Tonks before she saw her.. “Snape.”

“Hello, Severus.” Lupin’s voice.

“Lupin. Miss… pardon, Mrs. Lupin,” replied Snape, his voice suddenly rich.

“Not anymore.” She could hear Tonks reply somewhat bitterly.

What happened? Hermione wondered.

It took some time but Hermione could finally see again without the light being too bright for her. It is an odd image to see.

Snape and Lupin stand facing each other. Glaring. But, she never paid attention to them, now something was odd. Tonx is next to her, her hair beet-red. And then it hit her. She was so consumed with Harry’s perspective that she never noticed before. . .

There is an soft glow in Snape’s eyes and small uplift of his lips. Lupin has a soft smile and he looks happy. But his happiness fades fast.

“Are you going back?” Lupin asks Snape

“Even you can’t be that dense, Lupin. I do not have a death wish,” tersely replied Snape. There is a note of affection behind harsh words. How she never manage to notice that before.

“So, you stayed just for her.” Lupin sounds reproachful

“Someone had to; I was in good position to do so.”

“Is that so?” Asked Lupin and Hermione wondered, why does he sound so bitter?

“Sod off, Lupin.” Growled Snape “I’m not the one who got married.”

“And I’m not the one that swings both ways, Severus,” Lupin replied mildly, but his smile gave the appearance of teeth barred in aggression.

Hermione felt utterly confused; she nearly jumped when Tonks placed her hand on the arm on Hermione’s shoulder.

“Let’s go, leave them to sort this out on their own.”

“I. . . I don’t understand.” Hermione breathed out. What is going on? “Why are you not married to Lupin anymore?”

“As it turned out - he was correct, he was the wrong man for me.”

“But, why?”

“He. . . Well. . . Look at them.” Tonks pointed at Lupin and Snape in resignation

Hermione frowned while realisation dawned on her. Under all the growling and snarling, behind all those harsh words. . . When she looked at their faces, it was well hidden, but it was there - love .

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