Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Kiss The Serpent	By : indigonightowl Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 32590 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 9
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
- 13
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- 15
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters. That pleasure is JKR’s. I only own the plot…and since I lost the plot a while back, I’m not sure I own even that.

A/N: A huge thank you to Chartreuse and Wartcap for their original beta so many years ago, and to MoodySavage, my current beta who is doing amazing work with her red pen. At last - someone who understands the comma!

Tuesday

Tuesday afternoons were a double study period. As he had no classes, Severus had invited his new wife to spend the time with him in the dungeons. He wanted to pick her brain about the little problem Draco had let slip. He’d been too distracted before now.

Since last night, when she had barged her way into his rooms, everything felt different. Oh, he realised they had no future together. But he was enjoying what she was offering – while it lasted.

Shaking his head to dispel the distracting thoughts, he reapplied himself to his reading.

Wandering in with elf-made chocolate brownies and tea, Hermione perched herself on the arm of the lounge where he sat engrossed and peered around at the cover of his book.

“The Emerald Tablets? Is Alchemy a hobby of yours?” she asked curiously as she poured him a cup of tea.

He shook his head and accepted the cup, his eyes never leaving the page. He was stroking his bottom lip and she found it delightfully distracting.

“What are you researching?” She was nothing if not persistent.

He sighed and lowered the book. His gaze was calculating as he looked at her. “If you want to be helpful, read this and tell me if you find anything on snakes and eternal life.” Without spilling a drop of tea, he allowed his book to lay open on his knees so that he could reach to a pile of dusty manuscripts and tomes. Pulling the top one from the stack, he thrust it into her hands.

“The Ouroborus,” she read aloud, looking at the cover. “And I am doing this because…?”

“Well it’s not a pop quiz for your exams,” he smirked slyly, making her stick her tongue out at him. “If you must know, I believe that the Dark Lord has some connection to the snake Nagini, which is his secret to immortality. If I can find the connection, it may give us the means to defeat him.”

Hermione’s face lit up. The only thing she loved more than learning was learning something that would help bring down the biggest You-Know-What the wizarding world had ever known. Moving around to sit next to him, she drew her feet up onto the cushion and leaned back against the arm. Opening the book, she stretched her legs out until her feet nestled snugly against his thigh. With his free hand, he stroked her foot absently while they read in companionable silence.

About two hours later, the once neat pile of books were scattered all over the room, opened to different pages.

“Look at this!” Hermione pointed to a passage in the book. ‘This is a corruption of the procedure to make the Stone. Let’s see…Basil Valentine…15^th century monk and alchemist…” Her eyes scanned down the page. “Oh, here it is. He created a series of potions, a sort of chemical equivalent to the procedure that creates the Philosopher’s Stone. He was looking for a way to combine the transformative power of the Alchemical flame with the eternal cycle of the Ouroboros.”

Severus leaned over her shoulder and scanned the page. “You know,” he mused, stroking the page thoughtfully, “with some minor modifications, these could be made as potions. Applied to a person they would…No, it’s not possible!” His head snapped up, black eyes glittering. “What do you remember about the story Potter told of the Dark Lord’s return?”

“Well, Harry never really liked to talk about it, so the details are sketchy. Why?”

“It’s possible that THIS is what was in the cauldron that resurrected the Dark Lord,” he stabbed the page with a long finger. “But I won’t know for certain until I see that memory.”

********

Severus relaxed against the headboard, watching Hermione through slitted eyes as she moved methodically about his room. They had skipped dinner and spent the last hour in bed. He was still coming to terms with the fact that the girl actually wanted his company…amongst other things.

At Severus’ request, Albus had called a meeting of the Order – not everyone needed to be there, but since Hermione was involved, Severus would take her along. He knew Potter wouldn’t give up the memory to him unless the Order required it. Tonight he would see how the Dark Lord returned.

He was watching her wander about, setting out her clothes carefully before dressing. She pulled out a flimsy scrap of pale pink lace which turned out to be a matching bra and panties set. He hadn’t really noticed what she was wearing in his enthusiasm to get her undressed. Now he watched her pull them on again with close interest. Her soft curves enclosed in pink lace looked positively edible. All too soon they were concealed beneath the dress she had chosen for the night. It occurred to him that pink wasn’t such a bad colour. Not that he’d ever say that out loud, of course.

Humming quietly to herself, she moved to the mirror to fix her hair with her wand.

“You know, dearie, why don’t you shave the lot off and start again, there’s a good girl,” it offered in a helpful, nasal voice.

“Don’t you dare,” Severus growled.

She ignored the mirrors unhelpful advice, casting him a smile as she pinned back her hair into a loose top-knot. Severus rather liked her hair. It was a bit wild, but it made him think of her when they came together. A memory worth preserving, indeed.

Watching her, he realised that he had been sorely missing this type of intimacy from his life. He was also surprised to find that he rather liked it. Of course, she was now in danger, even more than she had been before. Had they not taken this particular course, had Lucius not seen them, she might well be safe. Now, things were not so certain.

The thought of never sharing these days with her filled him with an awful emptiness that he chose not to examine too closely. Regardless of what was to come, he would never let Lucius harm her. He wouldn’t let anyone harm her. The protective instinct she aroused in him was matched only by his growing desire for her.

Once again he found himself aroused by her mere presence. After the last two days, he was amazed his body was even capable of such a feat.

“I’m ready,” she said, stowing her wand up her sleeve and interrupting his thoughts.

He smiled slowly. “So am I,” he said, his eyes flicking to his erection which was now tenting the sheet.

Hermione blushed and smiled. She didn’t seem in any way put off by his obvious interest in her. She crossed over to the bed and leaned down to kiss him.

“We have to go,” she told him. He was amazed at the tinge of regret that her words held.

“I know,” he sighed, “I wish…” He clamped down on the unfinished thought. Wishes and maybes were a luxury he could not afford.

“You wish what?” she prompted, when he didn’t continue.

“Nothing. We should go.” He tossed back the sheets and pulled himself out of bed. He didn’t miss the admiring glance she swept across his naked body.

Collecting his wand from the nightstand, he was dressed in his shirt and trousers within moments.

He smirked at her. “And that, my dear, is how it is done in the wizarding world.”

She laughed at his tone. “Yes, but it’s obviously not as exciting as the Muggle way is it?” she teased in return, pressing her hips against the remains of his erection.

He had to acknowledge that she was right about that. Growling, he lunged and caught her about the waist. She fell into his arms with a shriek, and he kissed her soundly. When he raised his head, he was looking at her with an odd expression on his face. With a curt “Accio,” he gathered her outer robes and his frock coat, wrapping hers about her shoulders before kissing her again.

Severus grabbed the pot of Floo powder as they made their way to the fireplace. Seconds later, all that remained were the sizzling green flames to mark their departure.

************

The meeting took place in the Room of Requirement. Severus needed access to Harry. He could only get that at Hogwarts. A few other members had arrived to make reports – Remus, Kingsley and Tonks among them.

Severus took a seat at the fireplace in a small armchair. He watched as Hermione moved about the room greeting people with hugs and smiles. Potter and Weasley hovered annoyingly. They were evidently enquiring after her well-being since they kept throwing dirty looks in his direction. He wondered how much they actually knew. Hermione kept smiling and shaking her head.

When Albus called the meeting to order, she did not, as he had expected, slide into a chair next to her friends. Instead, she scuttled to his side and, not finding a spare chair, perched herself on the arm of his, casting him a small smile as she did so. Severus raised his eyebrows in query.

“Well, save me a seat next time,” she whispered, before turning to face the Headmaster, who had started the meeting.

Next time? Severus squashed down the warm feeling that threatened to fill his chest. The little chit had an uncanny ability to get under his skin.

With an imperceptible flick of his wand, the armchair stretched sideways, filling the gaps between the chairs on either side of them. Hermione slid into the cushioned space of the not-quite-two-seater, ignoring the frowns from her two best friends. It was barely big enough to accommodate her, forcing her hip and thigh to remain pressed against her lover.

She looked sideways at him. He was sitting straight in the chair, his hands resting on his thighs. He had done it on purpose, though his face was carefully neutral as he attended to the proceedings of the meeting. So he wants to play, does he?

Hermione nibbled a loose tendril of hair as various order members reported on Death Eater activity around the country. As Kingsley Shacklebolt started droning on about recent reported sightings of suspect activity, she leaned. Not too much, just enough to tuck her shoulder behind his arm and press her breast against him.

He did not react.

She waited patiently for a few minutes before casually tucking her right foot behind his left, entwining their limbs.

Still he did not move.

Crossing her arms gracefully across her waist, she extended one hidden finger and poked him in the ribs.

He glanced sharply at her, eyes narrowing at the innocent, wide-eyed smile she flashed him.

“Torment me at your peril, madam,” he muttered. “Slytherin revenge is not a pretty sight.”

Hermione rolled her eyes deliberately and re-settled herself in the chair. This time she let her right hand, tuck unseen into the crook of his arm that was pressed up against her.

The man had no sense of fun. She was looking forward to changing that. At some point, she’d get him to loosen up and they might even…the thought trailed away as Hermione realised she was planning a future with him. The thought that he might not be there with her had her stomach aching again. What if, after everything, something went wrong? What if he was killed? What if…what if he was cleared of suspicion and decided he didn’t want to be with her anymore. It made her heart ache to think about it.

Oh no. When did this happen? This is terrible.

I love him.

No, she was just being stupid. Simply getting emotional because he took her to bed and happened to be bloody marvelous at it.

So what is that thing that makes you want to weep with happiness every time he touches at you? Every time he so much as looks at you?

Oh, sweet Circe, I am in so much trouble.

Hermione glanced sideways at his profile. He was glowering at something Kingsley was saying. She wanted to kiss the look off his face. She wanted to tuck his hair behind his ear. She wanted to make him smile at her. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and apologise for every barb, every joke, every cruel comment that he had ever had to endure. She wanted to wake up with him every morning until the day she died.

She wanted him to love her too.

Hermione sat stunned at the revelation. Less than two weeks ago they had been civil strangers. Today she loved him and the feelings made it hard to breathe. Unconsciously, she tightened her hidden grip on his arm.

This time when he glanced sideways at her, she was the one looking carefully ahead.

***********

Kingsley had finished his report and Albus was speaking again. This time the room looked to Severus.

“Severus, is everything in place for Saturday.” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Yes, Headmaster. But I do have something important to discuss.” He got to his feet and moved to stand in front of Harry.

“Mr. Potter,” he drawled.

Harry’s glare barely concealed his loathing for his teacher. Severus ignored him.

“I need to retrieve a memory of yours that may be essential in defeating the Dark Lord.”

Harry frowned. “Which one?”

Severus raised a warning eyebrow.

“Which one, Sir?” Harry amended tightly.

“I need your memory of the night the Dark Lord returned…the night Mr. Diggory died,” Severus continued.

Harry went white. “For what? What good would it do? That was over a year ago.”

Severus opened his mouth to snap at the boy then closed it with a sigh.

“Mr. Potter,” he concealed his impatience at being questioned, realising that the memory was a traumatic one for the boy. “With your permission I will extract the memory so that I may study it in detail. You will not have to re-live a single moment of it.” He held up a hand to forestall Harry’s protest. “It is my belief that the Dark Lord employed a potion that is a corruption of the procedure used to create the Philosopher’s Stone. If I can determine how he was brought back, I believe I can also find a way to reverse what was done.” He wouldn’t mention Nagini for now, not until he knew more about it.

“Harry, please,” Hermione begged. “Severus is onto something important, something we didn’t think about before. We need your memory.”

“So, you are helping him, then?” Harry’s voice was tight. He looked closely at her, seeing the way she stood close by the Professor’s side, ready to jump to his defence.

Harry looked speculatively at his teacher and his friend standing together. “You say this might help us find a way to defeat him?”

Severus nodded. He gave Hermione a little push to encourage her back to her seat.

Harry squared his shoulders. “Right. How do we do this?”

Severus pulled out a small glass vial and his wand. Harry flinched slightly as the wand tip touched his temple. “Please recall the moment when you first arrived in the graveyard.”

Harry screwed his eyes shut and concentrated. A moment later, Severus withdrew his wand, a thin silvery strand attached to its tip. He settled the strand into the vial, corked it and concealed it in his cloak. “Thank you, Mr. Potter.”

He returned to his seat next to Hermione, ignoring the pallor of Harry’s face.

“As for the Revel, Headmaster,” he went on as though nothing had happened, “In the event that things go according to plan, I will be removed from any suspicion immediately and return. If things go awry and Lucius suspects that I was pre-warned, or if the Dark Lord believes Lucius regardless, then Miss Granger can go on as normal and no-one ever need know what has transpired.”

“Miss Granger?!” Hermione jumped to her feet and glared down at him. “Of all the—, oh!” She stormed out of the office, everyone staring after her with open mouths.

Severus got calmly to his feet.

Exchanging a look with Albus, he sighed and said, “excuse me…” before calmly leaving the room in Hermione’s wake.

He caught her before she had reached the gargoyle at the bottom of the stairs.

“Temper, temper…” he drawled, catching her about the waist. Then he saw her face.

Hermione was crying. After all the things he had said to her over the years, it had taken this to reduce her to tears. And he wasn’t exactly certain what he had done.

He turned her to face him fully. “Am I expected to apologise?” he asked haughtily.

“How can you?” she demanded in a raw voice.

“I’m afraid you are going to have to be slightly more specific if you want to hold a proper conversation about this,” he told her, his sarcasm masking his discomfort.

“How can you talk about sending me back here as though nothing has happened? If that comes about it will be because you are dead and I’ve…” lost you. She couldn’t say it aloud.

“I should think you would be happy to return to your life,” he observed in a bitter voice.

“Yes, well having to live with you would certainly have been a punishment!” she spat, and then spoiled it completely by throwing herself at him.

He caught her as she buried her face in his chest and wept into his robes.

Severus was completely puzzled at her bizarre behaviour. She spoke of his presence as a punishment and now wept in his arms like a grieving Strega.

Women!

“Hermione, stop that! You’ll drown me in a moment.” He fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and thrust it under her nose. Hermione stepped backwards, apologizing. She took the hankie and blew her nose, trying to scrub the tears from her damp, pink face.

“Would you care to explain exactly what is going on here?” he demanded.

She looked at him with watery eyes. Should I tell him? Oh, Gods, no! I’d better think of an excuse. If he uses Legilimency I’ll be so busted and he’ll…think I’m ridiculous.

He was watching her, waiting for a reply.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last. “This last week has been rather overwhelming. I’ll be all right now. Can we go home?”

He didn’t look satisfied, but as she had herself back under control, there was nothing else he could say.

Home. He liked the way she said that. He put one hand at her waist to encourage her back up the stairs.

“We had better go back in, but perhaps you should…unless you want everyone to think I’ve been abusing you.” He made a vague gesture towards her face. “One shouldn’t be seen blubbering like a Hufflepuff.”

The evidence of her weeping was too apparent. She cast a quick cooling charm on her heated skin to take care of the worst of the damage.

He opened the office door for her. When she went through, she was grateful for the strong arm he placed around her waist. Ron was glaring daggers at Severus’ hands on his friend. She threw them a watery smile and allowed herself to be steered towards the door.

*******

They had barely stepped into Severus’ chambers, when Severus dropped Hermione’s hand and clutched at his left arm. The look he gave her spoke volumes.

“The Mark?” she asked fearfully.

He nodded, not hiding the surprise and concern on his face.

“How is this possible? You weren’t supposed to be called until Saturday. We’re not ready!” Hermione’s voice was rising.

Severus raised one hand to silence her. “Lucius.”

“I don’t underst…” Oh Gods. Mr. Malfoy had moved up the meeting.

Severus disappeared for several minutes and reappeared wearing a heavy black robe and carrying a mask and hood.

He stared at Hermione in silence. Her worried face burned into his mind.

As he turned to leave, Hermione grasped his arm. He turned back to her enquiringly.

“Just promise me that you’ll be careful.” Hermione suddenly remembered something. “And use your ring if you get into trouble!”

Severus frowned at her, then looked at his hand. “The portkey?” The ring glowed faintly on his finger.

“Yes. If you get in trouble, activating the portkey will bring you to wherever I am…or if you can’t, we’ll be able to find you,” she reminded him.

“I’ve placed several memories in my Pensieve in the study. Let Albus know,” was all he said, and then, clutching his arm, he disappeared out the door.

Hermione was frantic. Grabbing the pot of floo powder, she hurled a pinch into the flames and called “Albus Dumbledore”. Within moments, Professor Dumbledore’s head appeared in the fire.

Albus took one look at Hermione’s face and knew exactly what had happened. “He’s been summoned early.”

Hermione nodded, biting her lip. She realised that she was still in the Professor’s rooms.

“I’m coming through.” With a small crackle, Albus stepped out of the hearth and dusted the soot from his shoulders.

Hermione threw herself into his arms.

“Hush, child,” Albus soothed. “You have done everything you can. It’s up to Severus now.”

“But I never told him…and if he…” She started to wail into his shoulder.

“It will all work out for the best. Wait and see,” he reassured her. “Now, perhaps a cup of tea while we wait?”

In an instant, Hobey had appeared carrying a tray with a steaming teapot and two cups. Hermione hoped fervently they wouldn’t have to wait too long.

**********

The circle gathered at the Dark Lord’s call. Their Dark Marks burning, each apparated to join their Master, and he waited impatiently for their arrival. They met at a stone Circle somewhere in northern England. The location was never important. It just needed to be private, far from prying eyes – both Muggle and magical.

Severus peered through the slits of his mask. This was not the planned Revel. This looked more like an inquisition. He breathed deeply, mastering the swell of emotion that taunted him with the prospect of failure.

Unconsciously, he fingered the silvery band. Clever, clever girl. He may not escape exposure, but he could escape death. The thought cheered him slightly.

Clearing his mind, he focused on his Occlumency skills as he moved with the others to stand in the Circle.

The Dark Lord stood at the centre. Severus suppressed the revulsion that filled him each time he beheld his Serpentine Master. The body that he had been resurrected into was repulsive. Tom Riddle has been such a handsome boy, and a strong, fine-looking man, for all the evil in his heart. This creature that now stood in the centre, this was Lord Voldemort. There was nothing left of the boy or the man. All that was left was the monster.

“Greetings, my friends.” The Master’s voice was soft and jubilant. He was excited by his own power, by the obedience of the men and women who responded to his summons.

No-one in the circle spoke, though each bowed. The Dark Lord preferred the sound of his own voice above all others. One did not speak until spoken to.

“You are surprised that I have called you early, and so clearly not for the promised celebration.” He gestured to the rugged stones of the circle, standing as menacing monoliths in the dim moonlight. “But it appears we have an unworthy servant to pry out of the ranks. A deceiver, a thief, and a traitor.”

A murmur of confusion rippled through the circle.

“You have all come at my summons, but perhaps not all of you shall leave this night.” Voldemort’s voice became harsh and cold.

“My loyal servant,” he beckoned to one hooded figure, “step forward.”

Lucius Malfoy emerged from amongst the identically robed and hooded figures, to stand at his Master’s side.

“Lucius has heard the words of a prophecy. A prophecy that dictates I must find the servant of lies among you and kill him, lest my own life be forfeit,” his voice rasped into the silence. “Speak the words so that all may hear.”

Lucius spoke. His nasal voice unnaturally loud in the stillness.

“Solitary serpent within the Dark Circle and yet not part of it. Untouched by woman’s love. Both hated and beloved by the enemy of the Serpentine Lord. Unwilling enemy and ultimate betrayer. Silence this foe lest all that Dark Magic desires be lost and the re-born Lord rendered unto dust.”

He fell silent again and waited for his Lord’s next command.

Voldemort was pacing the circle, like a caged tiger seeking his prey. “Tell me, who among you fits this description? Whose loyalty shall I have reason to doubt?” He stopped before MacNair.

“Legilimens,” he whispered as he violated the tall man’s mind seeking answers. One by one he searched each man’s memories for any hint of deception. One by one, they fell to the ground under the onslaught before their Master satisfied himself and moved on.

Severus watched calmly. He reinforced his mental shields and carefully selected memories to hold at the forefront of his mind. The Dark Lord was brutal in his Legilimency. It would take all of his skill to show no hint of his deception.

Finally, Voldemort stood before him, his pale, unnatural skin glowing under the moon.

“Severus, my loveless friend, my untouched servant. Your mind, more than any, must I examine.”

“Untouched, no more, my Lord,” Severus stated with a bow, ignoring Lucius’ involuntary flinch.

“What? Has my shrinking violet found a hand to pluck him from his solitary state?” Voldemort laughed, a brittle cackle with little real humour in it.

Severus held out his left hand where the band shone white with its own magic.

Voldemort’s eyes narrowed on the glowing band. “Married? And when did this unexpected event occur.”

“Yes, my lord. Just three days ago,” he told him truthfully, “and my choice will please you, I believe.”

“Do not presume to know my mind,” Voldemort hissed. “I shall see for myself. Legilimens!”

The thrust of the spell pierced his skull like a hot knife. Severus bore up under the pressure that threatened to melt his brain, while the Dark Lord viewed the memories he had so carefully placed. Images of Hermione defending him to Ron; of two naked bodies writhing in the half-dark; of her talking endlessly to him about the people in her life’ and finally, of her embracing Harry Potter. Though his stomach clenched at the violation of her trust, and the possessive jealousy that arose at the thought of another man seeing her glorious, naked body, he could not afford to be squeamish before the Dark Lord.

Voldemort withdrew abruptly. Severus was sweating with the agony of the assault, but he kept to his feet.

“Who is she?” he hissed.

“Harry Potter’s best friend,” Severus declared slowly, savouring the gasps from the gathered Death Eaters. “She is a Gryffindor,” he spat the word as though it tainted his mouth, “who has given me her loyalty and trust. She is blinded by her own desire to save the world, and instead she shall be the cause of their downfall. Through her, you shall have your enemy at your feet.”

Voldemort threw back his head and laughed his mirthless laugh.

“Lucius, my friend, it appears you were mistaken…on several counts! Severus shows no signs of the deception you claim. Instead he has done more towards delivering my enemy to me than any other gathered here.” He turned to the man still standing rigidly in the middle of the circle. “I care not if he gains some little pleasure along the way, as you said he might.”

He paced the circle again. “I find no evidence of treachery here, Lucius, which does not mean it is not present,” he qualified, holding up a hand to stall Malfoy’s objection, “only that I cannot find it. Perhaps there is another who fits the Prophecy, perhaps the old woman set out to trick you.” He returned to the centre and stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“None here shall suffer my wrath, though the rewards will be great for the man who brings the traitor to me…and I warn you, when I find the one that prophecy speaks of, his fate shall be swift and so agonizing that the very stones will remember and tremble at the memory of it. Get out of my sight.”

The Death Eaters did not hesitate. One by one they vanished into the night, leaving their Master staring thoughtfully after them.
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Kiss The Serpent