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Dark Gods In The Blood	By : Hayseed Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 3951 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 11
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A/N: None for this
chapter. Thanks for reading.

Summary: A wandering
student comes home, a broken man pays his penance, and a gruesome murder is
both more and less than it seems.spanspan>Some
paths to self-discovery have more twists and turns than others.

Rating: R, for
intermittent dark themes, violence, and language

Disclaimer: Nothing
you read here (save the plot and bits of the text itself) belongs to me. Harry Potter and his cronies are the
property of JK Rowling and Warner Bros. (and someone else, probably, but not
me). All chapter headings are properly
credited to their sources.

Dark Gods in the Blood

by: Hayseed (hayseed_42@hotmail.com)

Chapter Eleven

It
was a distinct glimpse: the headquarters, on relief, on

thoughts of home -- perhaps; setting his face
towards the

depths of the wilderness, towards his empty
and desolate

station. I did not know the motive. Perhaps he was just

simply a
fine fellow who stuck to his work for its own sake.

Hermione found that she
did not even need to bother with a mental excuse. After a painfully long night, she made her way purposefully to
the Apparition point nearest her hotel.
She did not hesitate as she closed her eyes and opened them to see the
nearly familiar Yorkshire countryside.

Perkins was just over the
hill.

The receptionist smiled
broadly as she stepped into the front hall.
�Let me see ...� she said. �Miss
Hermione Granger, here to see Severus Snape.
How�s that?�

�Right in one.� She managed a faint smile.

�You know the drill,� she
said, sitting the familiar box on the edge of the counter and continuing to
smile as Hermione obediently emptied her pockets and took off her shoes.

She�d forgotten to put on
her thick socks and the cold from the tiles burned her toes. �I don�t see why we�ve got to take off our
shoes,� she grumbled to herself.

With a chuckle, the
receptionist gave her a look of understanding.
�I think Severus� doctor likes controlling his patients� atmospheres
completely. He�s a wonderful doctor,
though -- Dr. Cuthrell is one of our best.�

�How is he, then?�
Hermione asked, giving her pockets one last check. �Sn -- Severus, I mean.es">
Not Dr. Cuthrell.�

�No different than
usual,� she replied diffidently, sliding the box under der desk. �He�s such a quiet fellow, according to the
nurses. Rarely an ounce of trouble
these days. You can go on back now,
dear.�

Unhesitatingly, she
walked past the receptionist�s desk, through the narrow hallway, and up to the
door she knew would lead her to Professor Snape.

Snape.

�Well then, who could
have done it?� she asked impatiently, momentarily putting their previous
conversation out of her mind.

�That would depend, Miss
Granger,� he said with a smirk, �on the nature of his death. Was there, perhaps, a note?�

She gave him a look full
of hatred. �He was a loving father of
two who was, by all accounts, absolutely besotted with his wife. He enjoyed his job and had a healthy social
life. Suicide is at least as illogical
as the murder itself.�

Studying her with an air
of clinical detachment, his voice lacked its prior venom as he spoke. �Even the most mundane of existences,
Granger, usually has an underbelly. But
I will accept your assessment for the moment.
What makes you so sure, then, that it was murder?�

�Why do you care all of a
sudden?� she shot back, unwilling to share the details.

An eyebrow lifted. �Mere curiosity, I assure you. �Care� is an awfully strong word.�

Hermione wondered
impassively for a minute if the details could possibly shock him. If the horror she experienced could
conceivably affect him. Maybe she could
hurt him after all. Maybe his own
apparent lack of compassion could bother him.
�He was slaughtered, Ron said,� she said as coldly and objectively as
she could. �Split open and bled to
death. Like an animal.�

Her stomach turned as
Snape actually perked with interest. �I wonder ...� he mused, apparently
forgetting her presence momentarily.
�No,� he finally said. �Not a
Death Eater.�

Again, she was
defiant. �Why not?�

�The only one capable of
such a thing would have been Rodolphus Lestrange. He always had a bizarre fondness for knives. But the man�s dead, Granger. Died ten years ago.�

�How can you be so sure?�
she asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

He rolled his eyes at
her. �I witnessed it, Miss
Granger. He slit his own throat in
order to evade capture.� She winced and
he continued. �Curious, though. He was alive when whoever did this, you
say?�

Her throat was dry as she
swallowed. �According to Ron,� she said
in a voice barely above a whisper. �He
said the look in his eyes ...�

She left him like that,
carefully watching her as she deliberately stood and walked out of the
room. He did not speak, but she felt
his eyes on her back until she closed the door.

As she leaned against it,
breathing deeply, trying to regain her control, she saw a shadow on the floor
that did not match her own. Hermione
looked up. Cuthrell.

�Good morning, Hermione,�
he said warmly. �Just been visiting
with Severus, have we?�

�Go away,� she said in a
tired voice.

He smiled at her. It was just as charming as it had been
before. Knowing what he intended from
her, however, made it far more repulsive.
�I can tell you�ve been speaking with Severus,� he teased.

Not smiling, she looked
into his mirthless eyes calmly. �I do
not pretend to understand your meaning, doctor.�

�He does have that effect on people, doesn�t he?� he asked,
still affecting c. The head of the hospital thinks it�s a good way to gain patient
trust, despite the fact that it interferes with treatment.�

�I do not want to talk to
you,� she replied.

�I�m not asking,� he
said, voice only holding a shadow of a warning. �You spoke with him for well over an hour. He answered you, and not just one-word retorts, either. Tell me what you spoke of, Hermione.�

�Nothing of any
significance to you,� she said, looking away.
�Or to him, either.�

Suddenly, Cuthrell
grabbed her chin, forcing her to look into his unexpectedly shrewd gaze. �I looked you up, Hermione Granger. I was curious to see what it was about you
that made Severus break his self-imposed silence. I am still curious, to be
sure. There appears to be no
discernable relationship between you two.
You were his student while you were at Hogwarts. There is no other connection.�

�Fascinating, I am sure,�
she spat. �Let me go!�

�Why are you visiting
him, Hermione?� he asked, releasing her.

She ran a hand over her
face, trying to clean the feel of him off of it. �That is none of your concern.
Ask him for all I care.�

He smiled again and it
was decidedly less charming. �Do you
love him, then? Some silly little
schoolgirl crush? Unbelievable, but
then again, stranger things have happened.
Maybe he even loves you in return.
Is that it, Hermione? Are you
letting him fu --�

She slapped him then, of
course.

To his credit, Cuthrell
barely paused as he switched gears. �I
wonder, Hermione, does Albus Dumbledore really know you�re here?�

�Don�t be a fool,� she
berated, stepping away from him.

But he pushed forward,
both physically and psychologically, stepping toward her again as he spoke
. �Dumbledore takes a great interest in Severus� treatment here. He is the next of kin, after all. I would think he would be very put out to
find out about anything ... untoward going on.�

�I agree,� she said,
moving down the hallway and praying he would not follow. �It is a very good thing, then, that no such
thing is going on, isn�t it, doctor?�

--
-- -- -- --

Cuthrell did not follow.

Hermione was grateful for
it as she collected her belongings from the friendly receptionist and bid her
farewell. In fact, she managed to stay
fairly composed until she reached her hotel room.

There, sitting on her
bed, her bag in one hand and an apple in the other, was Ron Weasley. He offered her a cautious smile. �Thought I�d surprise you. It�s my lunch hour.�

Startled, drained, and
emotionally charged, she burst into abrupt tears. Dropping to her knees there in the doorway, she buried her head
in her hands and damn near howled out her anger and frustration and pain.

�Hermione ...� He sounded puzzled. And then a hand on her hair. �Hermione?�

She allowed him to wrap
his arms around her shoulders, hands moving up and down her back as she shook
with the effort of her tears. �He was right,� she wailed.
�Damn him and he was right!�

�Shh ...� he
clucked. �Who was right, love?�

�Snape,� she moaned into
his shoulder. �He said ... ooh, he said
awful things. But they were true. Always true. He never lies.�

��Course he does,� Ron
whispered soothingly into her ear.
�Snape lies all the time, I�m sure.�

Lifting her head, she
looked up at him with tear-stained eyes.
�How do you know?�

He smiled in reply. �Well, he was a spy for Dumbledore for all
that time, wasn�t he? How was he going
to fool a bunch of Death Eaters and one Dark Lord into believing his fidelity
if he didn�t lie once, at least?�

Giggling through her sobs,
she was chagrined when they turned to hiccups.
�Well,� she began grudgingly, slowly, pausing to hiccup. �I suppose you�re right.�

�There, there,� he said,
giving her shoulder one last pat before releasing her. �We�ll show that mean old Snape, won�t
we? We won�t let him hurt us one
bit. In fact, we might even have a
little fun tonight, if we let ol� Ron have his way.�

He shook his head and
picked up his apple, biting into it. �I
never understood how you could hiccup while holding your breath. I�ve never met anyone else who could.�

�I�m spe -- hic --
hecial,� she said sarcastically.

Continuing to eat, he
indicated her bag. �I�ve packed up
everything I could see, but I�m sure I missed a few things. So you might want to give everything a last
look-see.�

�Wh -- hic -- here are we
go -- hic -- hing?� she asked as she began opening and closing drawers, picking
up the odd article and shoving it into the bag.

�I�m running away with
you, of course,� he said dramatically, taking another big bite. �Hermione, my ravishing loveliest love.�

�You�re an ih -- hic --
hidiot,� she replied, ducking into the lavatory to scan its contents.

There was a loud slurping
noise that she decided she didn�t want to know about. �D�you want me to scare you?� he asked loudly.

She poked her head out
into the bedroom, carrying her last few toiletries. �Knock yourself out,� she said, suppressing a hiccup with little
success.

�I know for a fact that
Argus Filch likes to go up to the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts late at night and
dance around naked with Mrs. Norris,� he said with a straight face, cradling the
apple core in his left hand.

Hermione made a
face. �You�re right. I�m sc -- hic -- hared. But not cured.�

He shrugged. �I just want you to know you drove me to
this, Hermione. Now ... hiccup!� he
shouted.

�What?� she asked,
startled.

�I want you to hiccup,
Miss Granger, now!� he roared, in his best Snape voice. �Do it or I�ll hex you from here to
tomorrow!�

She blinked, actually
trying to produce a hiccup in her confusion at his behavior.

Ron�s voice shifted back
to its usual friendly timbre.
�There. All gone now?�

Zipping up her bag, she
realized he had done it. �My hero,� she
sighed dramatically. �I think I�m ready
for you to whisk me away now.�

�Great,� he said, tapping
his apple core with his wand. �Just
grab on, then.� He held it out.

With a shudder, she
shouldered her bag and laid a single finger on the skin of the apple core,
trying not to come in contact with the parts he�d bitten around. �You�re disgusting, Ron.�

Before he could reply,
she felt a little tug behind her navel and was jerked forward. As she fell, her eyes instinctively closed,
so that when her feet hit the floor again, she realized she had no idea what
floor they were standing on.

�Where are we?� she
asked, eyes still not open.

�Your home away from
home,� he replied cheerily. �Mi casa es
su casa, love.�

Finally bringing herself
to open her eyes, the first thing she saw was a huge mass of papers and what
looked to be folders strewn across a room that might possibly hold a sofa. And a chair, perhaps. One piece of paper in particular wriggled at
her. �Hey, Ron?�

He pitched the apple core
into a nearby dustbin. �What?�

�Do you have ... a
familiar?�

�No ...� Ron looked rather confused. �Why?�
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Dark Gods In The Blood