Needfire

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

he does not have to feel because he thinks
(the thoughts of others,be it understood)
he does not have to think because he knows
(that anything is bad which you think good)

--from \" he does not have to feel because he thinks\"


-- e.e.cummings


Chapter 16 - A Plan of Action


Snape sat quietly in the darkness of his office, a small glass of whiskey in his hand. He\'d been considering one little query of Hermione\'s for quite some time. Multiple days, in fact. \"Ever imagined what you\'ll do when I\'m not your student?\" She meant to mock him, asking him what he would do when he could no longer deduct points from Gryffindor for her imagined infractions, but Snape had found a deeper meaning there, one she had not intended. He\'d mumbled \"Nox,\" earlier, leaving no light in the room. It was better to think his dark thoughts in darkness, he\'d decided.

Merlin, yes, he\'d wondered what he would do when she was no longer his student. He was torn into shreds by the thoughts her simple question had engendered. It was enough to make him want to cast Engorgio on the Jameson\'s, climb inside the bottle, and drown there.

He wondered what he would do when she decided she\'d learned enough of the Druid way of life; he didn\'t fool himself that she shared his beliefs in the goddess and the god; she had made that clear at Samhain.

He wondered what he would do when she decided that sex with the Potions Master of Hogwarts was passé, or more likely, not worth risking her education for.

But most of all, he wondered what he would do when she was no longer around for him to torment, teach, or touch. In a few more months, assuming he was correct about Voldemort\'s tentative schedule for disposing of his enemies in one fell swoop, there would be a war. At the very least, there would be Hermione\'s graduation, and the young woman would find the wide world so much more appealing than the narrow, sheltered life she\'d led so far. He was unlikely to be a part of that life, in however small a way.

He wondered a great many other things, as well. It was a testament to his rigid control, some days, that he didn\'t just fly apart into a thousand bits of Snape and flail uselessly on the floor, straining for some semblance of order. He wondered why he was still bothering to snoop after Voldemort for Dumbledore, when the Headmaster never seemed surprised by the information Snape brought him. Always three steps ahead of everyone else, Dumbledore.

Snape had actual nightmares from which he woke, sweating. In the dreams, Dumbledore, with terrible sweetness, pulled away that long, silver beard to reveal the strange and eerie features of Riddle beneath. The last one had wakened him, grunting, with Hermione beside him in his bed, sprawled in her warm and boneless sleep, her head pillowed on his shoulder, her wild hair across his mouth. It wasn\'t often that he fell asleep next to her -- something about actual sleep with her was too intimate to be borne, regardless of the seeming paradox of sleep versus sleeping with -- but that night he\'d been so sated and worn that when she mumbled \"Don\'t go,\" and tucked her arm across him firmly, he\'d stayed put for a change. She had been wakened by his noisy thrashing, and by the time he fully surfaced from the dream, Hermione was half-sitting, watching him curiously with knowing eyes, her wand lit. She had her own demons; she recognized them in others. And when she asked what was wrong and he told her warily, \"Nothing,\" she had nodded, leaned over him to kiss his mouth until his hand came up, helpless to resist threading through her hair, and then said to him, \"Liar.\" But she hadn\'t pressed, and he hadn\'t taken points from Gryffindor.

He also wondered why there had not been a summons from Voldemort in more than six weeks. It was atypical for the evil wizard to leave his followers in peace for so long. Snape frowned at the dim glow of his glass, reflecting a glimmer of light from a book that rested on the desk, a book with phosphorescent lettering on its spine. The spy in him suspected that there had been a summons, and he\'d not been called. He pondered what that could mean, and decided that he must talk with Lucius, and soon. The rest of the whiskey in his glass went down warmly, glowing in his belly. He considered pouring another.

A moment later he stiffened, hearing the soft, sliding click of the wards on the classroom door. Hermione. No one else came to his dungeon this time of night. He set the glass aside quietly and rose. His eagerness took him aback momentarily. He hadn\'t seen her for a few days, except in his class, and he felt a strong need of her. First he would kiss her senseless. Then he would take her over his desk, from behind, whispering in her ear, listening to her harsh breathing, waiting for her to come hard, the way she always seemed to when he took her on his desk. Something about it aroused her tremendously. And then he would take her back to his rooms, and feed her. She was always hungry after sex, it seemed.

\"Are you sure it\'s empty?\" Not Hermione\'s voice.

A crystal chuckle. \"Of course it is. The git\'s bound to be in bed by now, even with thirty feet of punishment essays to grade from last week.\" Malfoy. And Potter. \"Besides, you\'ve got your cloak with you, don\'t you? We won\'t be seen.\"

There was a sound, soft, as of clothing being shed. Then a few small thuds, shoes hitting the floor. Potter\'s voice, again. \"It\'s cold, Draco. Why\'d you think this would be a good place?\"

\"Because I know how to open Snape\'s wards, and no one will think of looking for us here. Come here, let me warm you.\"

\"It\'s so dark in here.\"

\"That\'s how we know he\'s not in his office, you nitwit. Now stop complaining.\"

\"I want to see you,\" said Potter now. \"Light your wand, Draco.\"

A sigh. There was a long silence that stretched into a minute or more; cold, alienated silence. Then a pause, and a break. \"Look, I\'m sorry, baby, I know it\'s dark, but I can\'t light my wand -- the light might be seen under the door. We\'d get caught. Don\'t you think I want light, too?\"

\"I don\'t care if we get caught.\" Bitter defiance. Indignation. Perhaps, the thought struck Snape a second before it disappeared, the son is like his mother in more than one way.

\"Well, I do. You know why it cannot be -- not yet --\"

\"When?\"

There was silence, or nearly so, and soft broken breathing. Snape supposed they were kissing. Lily would only let go of the subject when he kissed her. He walked silently to the doorway of his office and stood there listening.

\"Oh, Harry -- wait, slowly, love -- I -- wait, while I --\"

\"...while I waited for you to make up your mind, Severus.\" Lily tossed her hair, sitting across from him at the Leaky Cauldron. \"And finally I couldn\'t wait any longer.\"

Severus shrugged, taking a long pull at his onion ale. Lily had refused ale, asking instead for a butterbeer. Severus sneered at such a sweet childish drink, but she ignored him. \"And that meant you had to choose James Potter? Of all the people you could have chosen, why him? The one you knew I hated most?\"

\"Merlin, it was always about you, wasn\'t it? You, you, you. The most selfish man I ever knew, Severus. You were a selfish boy, and nothing changed as you grew.\" She pushed back from the table and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. Her movements lifted those soft curving mounds, pressed them together beneath her robes, and he knew a moment of hot longing to touch them. She wore Potter\'s wedding band, but that mattered not at all to him. Lily Evans should belong to him, even now.

Lily kicked him under the table. She knew he was looking at her breasts. \"Bastard,\" she muttered. \"I don\'t know why I agreed to meet you here.\"

\"I do,\" he said. \"You\'re curious.\"

She snorted. \"Curious. About, what, Severus? About a man who expected me to bow down, and worship at the great font of Snape? What\'s there to be curious about? A selfish child, unable to love. Not such a mystery, let me tell you.\"

He stiffened. \"I loved you.\"

\"Once, maybe, in your limited way. But you loved yourself more. You loved your intellect, your potions, your...your Death Eater friends. You loved to be feared.\" She turned her glass around and around on the table, and he could see there was more she wanted to say.

\"Out with it,\" he muttered. \"There\'s more, I can tell. Why don\'t you just get it over with, Lily, go ahead and gut me. You already cut out my heart and fed it to me when you married Potter. Finish the job, don\'t be such a fucking coward.\"

Her eyes flared at him in fury. She stopped turning the glass stein and stared at him. \"I was never a coward, Severus, and you know it. I tried to reach you, with every scrap of my being, and you...just...never met me half way. Or even a third of the way. I\'d have reached further if I thought just once...just once...\" Her anger overwhelmed her, as it so often had, boiling uselessly into hot tears.

\"That much vaunted Gryffindor courage,\" he muttered. \"Gryffindor and Slytherin, never to mix. You listened to Black and Potter and Lupin, Lily. You turned your back on me.\"

\"I had to,\" she said, \"because you never gave me what I needed.\"

He pushed back from the table, the legs of his chair grating deafeningly against the floor tiles. Heads turned around them. He met those looks with a black glare, and eyes flickered away quickly. \"Bullshit, Lily. I gave you what was mine to give.\"

She dropped her voice. \"All I ever got from you was your cock and your self-righteousness, and an empty circle of friends. Nothing else, ever. I wanted your love. I wanted you to adore me. I needed you to fucking need me, Severus. More than your intellect. More than your precious isolation. That\'s what James offered me, Severus. A pedestal, of sorts --\"

He strode away from the table and out the door. Outside, in the chill of the air, he ran both his hands through his hair, suddenly panting. When he was seventeen, he had adored her, hadn\'t he? He\'d shown her how much he needed her. Just...not publicly, that\'s all. What had she wanted? Snogging in the Great Hall? A boyfriend to dangle in front of her catty girlfriends? An adoring slave? At seventeen, he could give her none of that. He hadn\'t lied; he\'d given her what was in him to give. But she\'d apparently needed more than he was capable of.

Merlin. Gutted.

His ale wanted to churn its way back up his throat. He hadn\'t felt this ill since her wedding day, when he\'d Apparated himself out of his London flat to Lucius\' place in Hampshire, needing something besides his own company for once. He\'d been afraid of what he wanted most: to arrive at the handfasting of Lily Evans and James Potter in his towering black rage, to use the ability that he knew was in him. His powerful killing curse, his Avada Kedavra, untried but strong, he knew it. Against Potter, to see him dead, and take Lily away from Potter forever. That wanting had been so strong in him that he knew he couldn\'t remain alone. Lucius, as always, was welcoming and friendly, and had generously shown him to the drawing room of Malfoy Estate, where the two of them had gotten raucously drunk over a game or six of wizard chess. The handfasting went on as scheduled, and a week later Severus had returned to his London flat and his job as though nothing had happened. Lily was erased from his heart.

Behind him the door of the Leaky Cauldron banged open and she was suddenly in front of him, her hair a violent wildfire of glory, tossing in her anger. He pushed past her and went around the corner. Done with this nonsense. It had been a mistake, in Gringott\'s, to touch her arm as she stood in line two wizards ahead of him, and ask her to go for a drink. It had been a mistake to let himself realize she had never been erased from his heart, just hidden.

But Merlin, she was following. Lily, don\'t.

\"Severus Snape,\" she spat. \"Don\'t walk away from me. I\'m not through with you yet.\"

He spun. They were in a dim alley, empty of anything except a cart with boxes of wizarding fireworks on it. He took hold of her shoulders and backed her to the wall, and his mouth crushed hers. And oh, gods, it was as though Potter had never existed; she never even fought, she just melted against him as always, melted, and his rage was vanquished by her mouth. She opened her lips to him. When his hand went to her breast, she made a soft noise, almost a whimper, almost a coo, and he knew they must find a room soon or he would take her here, now, against the wall, wedding band on her finger or not. Potter\'s property or not. His hand was filled with her breast; to his delight, there seemed to be much more there than he remembered ever cupping before. His mouth softened against hers and he slid his hand down from her breast, over her ribcage, over her abdomen, and stopped when he felt that small stirring under his palm.

He staggered back from her, almost falling. She stared at him, eyes wide, darkened, lips swollen. Her abdomen was swollen, too. How had he not noticed? Her robes hardly concealed the lump of her pregnant belly.

Now he did vomit, turning his back. Potter\'s get, growing inside Lily. His desire was instantly stifled. You didn\'t notice because you didn\'t want to, Snape, he told himself. You didn\'t see because you wanted to put something like that in her yourself. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her protective hands lacing over that lump. \"Severus, I --\"

\"Say nothing,\" he rasped. \"I don\'t want to hear it, I won\'t --\"

But she was inexorable, and her words did more than just gut him. They struck his very soul a death blow.

\"I know what you\'re thinking. Potter, of all people. And do you know why, Severus? Because you hated him the most. Because it would hurt you the most. Because you hurt me, and because now, finally, I can hurt you back.\"

\"I can\'t see what you\'re doing, Draco. C\'mon, light your wand; mine\'s in my robe pocket. I want so much to watch you --\" Harry was almost moaning the words.

Snape, returning to the present time, moved away from the doorframe where he\'d been leaning and went back inside his office, closing his door with a slam. That would clear the classroom, no question. Still no points from Gryffindor; Lily\'s boy had enough trouble, sleeping with Malfoy and destined for Voldemort. Potter\'s boy or not.

He sat at his desk again, still debating about whether or not to pour a second shot of the whiskey. His fingers flattened against the wood of the desk, moving across it, as if to feel for traces of Hermione and himself, having sex there. The desk was much less cluttered these days than he normally kept it. Less clutter meant less to clear away, those afternoons or evenings when Hermione remained after class or returned long after dinner, her duties as Hogwarts Head Girl complete for the night, sliding into his lap or simply removing her knickers and urging him to pound relentlessly into her body. At one time he had wished for a smaller desk; this one took up so much of his office. But now, that wide desk was transformed, another bed for him and his young lover, a bed he very much enjoyed. And, given her reactions, one she enjoyed as well.

He thought back to their last encounter, several days before, a quiet weekend spent primarily in his quarters, though he\'d found time to take her to the Forbidden Forest and show her more of the plants useful or sacred to the Druids. They had pushed into the Forest until the black roses, somehow still blooming even this late in November, sent their soporific fragrance wrapping around them both.

Somewhere, off the pathway there in the forest, Hermione had halted and hooked her fingers through the back of his belt as he walked ahead of her through the brush, looking for aconite. Snape knew her signals by now, and his pulse had leapt when he turned, to find her smiling, sultry, eager. He never allowed himself to initiate sex with Hermione -- it must always be her choice to receive his attentions, he would never corner her again. Not to mention the stupid part of his brain that told him it was all right to have sex with a student, as long as the student was willing -- but neither did he ever refuse her. It was simply too delightful.

\"Let me,\" she whispered, her palms moving to the fly of his trousers, where he was already hardening, simply from seeing the expression on her face and knowing what she had in mind for him. \"Hmm. Professor.\" His eyes closed as she unbuckled his belt and opened the fly. Hermione knelt in front of him and took him into her mouth. He never lasted long when she did this; the sensations were too intense. And oh, she was good at it, good at reading the signs from his body, good at maintaining a ferocious suction with the briefest of pauses, that drove him over the edge. Snape wished for a tree trunk to lean back against, or better yet, a bed beneath him. He let his fingers slide into her hair, but he\'d learned the hard way not to take control of these moments; she would bite if he became too aggressive or rough. Still, he could not help some movement of his hips; he longed to fuck her mouth, but held back. She was taking him swiftly to the brink this time, instead of lingering over the task.

\"Hermione,\" he groaned, exploding. He almost staggered, almost fell. She looked up at him and he saw her throat move as she swallowed. Merlin.

\"Are we almost done here in the Forest, for today?\" she asked, tucking him back into his trousers, giving him a final pat -- good professor -- after she buckled his belt.

\"I\'m certainly done,\" he muttered. \"I\'ll never be able to find aconite now, you\'ve destroyed my concentration, Apprentice.\"

She looked smug, rising. \"Good. Because I\'m hungry.\"

Despite himself, he almost smiled. \"You just ate,\" he muttered, pulling her close with his hand at the nape of her neck, feeding himself on her mouth in a brief, hard kiss.

She dismissed that idea with a flick of her hand. \"A little protein, some saline, a few simple sugars. Not my idea of balanced nutrition, Snape.\"

He did chuckle at that, and surprised a bemused look on her face, as though she had just heard or seen something incomprehensible. Potions Master Snape, laughing? It hadn\'t happened, surely.

\"Something\'s funny?\" she demanded.

\"Always the scientist.\"

\"Chemically speaking, that\'s --\"

\"Yes, yes. I know the chemical breakdown. I simply find it amusing that you do, as well.\" He took her face between his hands and looked at her squarely. \"You don\'t have to swallow, you know.\"

\"I want to,\" she told him. \"You are my lover.\"

That struck a little too deeply, and he released her, hooding his eyes, turning back for the castle. Her lover. Hmm.

~*~

A few evenings later, as November was drawing to a close, Snape went to visit Minerva in her own office. He found he needed to speak with her about two of those Gryffindor hearts in her care. Two he didn\'t understand; one in particular he sought to comprehend: Hermione\'s. The other, Potter\'s heart, he felt Minerva should be warned about, though he could never have explained why. Once again, he chalked it up to the fact that Potter was Lily\'s boy. There couldn\'t be much of an explanation, otherwise. It\'s not like he was fond of the brat, or felt responsible for him in some way.

At the past couple of moon celebrations at the Circle, Snape had taught Hermione how to call down the Needfire. She had been successful, and he was pleased to see her elation. She might yet come to regard the goddess and god as something more than mere figureheads, more than anchor points to which a religion of sorts was attached. He had praised her skill, gratified to see a look of pleased surprise on her face at his words.

However. She still came to him after each ritual, once the altar was rinsed, and held out her arms for him to bathe them. And while the redness was indeed reduced, it was not yet gone. Something was still not right in her, not clean to her mind. What it could be he could not even imagine, but despite her earlier protestations that the outbreaks would only last a week or two, this one had been going on far too long and it was time he addressed it. It was his duty as her teacher, no matter how far across the student-teacher dividing line he had dragged her into his personal world. It was a world where Druidism, redemption, regret, and the thinnest measure of hope dominated his every aspect and colored all his perspectives. The bi-weekly washing was only holding the black wings in her soul at bay; it wasn\'t healing her. Something had to be done.

\"Severus!\" Minerva exclaimed now, as he wandered in. Unlike him, Minerva never warded her office while she was in it. She, Gryffindor that she was, remained accessible to her students whenever possible. She looked pleased to see him. \"What brings you here?\"

\"Your students,\" he said, lounging in a chair across from her as she sat behind her desk. He folded his hands across his belly. Minerva\'s office was soothing, filled with books and artifacts. He could have done without all the red and gold, but the place was always warm. Snape supposed he felt welcomed. Sometimes it made him uncomfortable if he thought about it too long. Minerva apparently had affection to spare; he had never quite fathomed her fondness for him.

She put down her quill and pulled off her pointed hat, sailing it towards a hat rack in the corner. Snape could see it was not going to land properly, and waved his hand to help it settle on a hook. \"Thank you, Severus. Now -- about Peach and Skullcap.\"

Snape shook his head. \"Not those two, I fixed their wagons early in the year. They\'ve not been problems since then.\"

Her brows rose. \"Really? How did you solve their interpersonal conflicts?\" At her question, he got an evil look on his face, and Minerva drew her mouth into a tight line. \"Severus. What have you done?\"

\"I soaked their wands in Reciprocal Potion, so that they\'d have to hear each other\'s thoughts for a period of time. I thought it might help them gain...perspective.\"

Her shoulders relaxed. \"Heavens, is that all. I thought perhaps you\'d hexed them.\"

Snape made an indignant noise. \"I do not hex my students.\" I just have sex with them. That\'s not so bad, is it?

\"Well then, if it\'s not Simon you want to speak to me about, who is it?\"

\"Potter and Granger.\"

That made her sit back in her chair and stare at him. \"What about them?\" she asked, slowly. \"Do we need to take this to Albus\' office?\"

\"We do not,\" he said firmly. \"I simply need to make you aware of a few things regarding the two.\"

Minerva leaped to another conclusion. \"Surely Hermione isn\'t sleeping with Harry too, now,\" she muttered. \"I would never have thought -- after Ron --\"

Snape tried to stop a blush. \"She\'s not sleeping with Potter,\" he muttered, then realized how that might sound -- too much knowledge of a Gryffindor, on his part, could look suspicious. He had not come here to confess his own sins. \"At least, not as far as I know. Potter\'s sleeping with Malfoy, which is one reason I\'m here.\"

Minerva exhaled. \"I was afraid of that,\" she murmured. \"He\'s been so distant lately, and there hasn\'t been that same old tension between the two of them. It\'s been different. When did you find out?\"

\"I knew for certain several days ago. Malfoy got past the wards on the Potions classroom long after hours last week. He had Potter with him. Let me just say their intentions seemed clear; I let them know they\'d been overheard, and they scampered away. I was in my office at the time.\"

\"Yet...Severus, you deducted no points from Gryffindor?\"

He considered his answer. He couldn\'t very well tell her he was feeling merciful towards Lily\'s boy because he was the lamb for Voldemort\'s slaughter, nor that he felt sleeping with a Malfoy would be trouble enough for Potter, nor that he himself was guilty of an infraction that would make casual shagging between students seem pale in comparison. He cast about for a moment. \"I...felt bad about...\"

Minerva interrupted with a small smile. \"Oh, yes, the twenty points you took from Gryffindor when you caught Hermione and Ron in the hallway. Well, I must say this is a bit more fair.\"

Snape was silent. Best to let her think as she was doing.

\"What should we do about Harry and Draco, then, do you think?\"

\"I had planned to do nothing except make you aware,\" he replied. \"He\'s your responsibility, do as you see fit. I myself see no reason to obstruct them, but they bear watching to ensure they don\'t hurt one another inordinately; in addition, there\'s...that issue, of Voldemort, and Malfoy\'s father, still a Death Eater. Tales could be carried, taken from pillow talk, however innocently told. That bit is in my purview to attend, as you know. But now, to Miss Granger.\"

\"What about her?\" Minerva stiffened, placing her hands flat on the surface of her desk, looking straight at him. \"What\'s happened to her?\"

\"Have you taken a good look at her lately? Noticed anything different?\"

Minerva paled. \"Please don\'t tell me you think she might be pregnant, Severus. You know the reputation of the Weasley men -- beyond fertile --\"

Snape blanched. Gods, of course she wasn\'t pregnant; he brewed the contraceptive potions himself and watched her drink them; not to mention, he drank the male variant as well. Much better doubly safe than a parent at sixteen, and Merlin knew he was not of the constitution to raise a child. And, gods, Weasley. He fought back a stammer. \"No, no, not that.\"

\"Then what, Severus?\"

\"Have you looked at her hands, her arms? How red, how raw they are?\"

Minerva tilted her head. \"Now that you mention it, yes. But -- Severus -- I had assumed she was working on something...caustic...in your Advanced Potions classes! I assumed you were taking care of it.\"

Snape realized the bitter irony of her words, though he knew she did not. \"I\'m trying to take care of it,\" he said. \"That\'s why I\'m here. It\'s not caustic potions that are injuring her that way: she\'s doing it to herself, Minerva. She\'s...washing, scrubbing, scraping herself, until she\'s raw, sometimes bloody. And --\" he halted, giving himself a moment in which to regroup, a bit shocked by the harshness of his emotions, apparent in his voice. \"And I haven\'t been able to stop it. Not completely.\"

\"What do you think is causing it?\" she asked.

He hesitated. \"I have pondered this a long time. There appears to be some hidden trauma. It\'s not been a problem before this year, Minerva, but now -- now, there are many pressures upon her, and I believe that trauma is manifesting itself in this destructive manner. She is Hogwarts Head Girl. She has been having sex for the first time, with Weasley, though that...appears to have ended, which brings to bear a different sort of pressure. She is more than aware of Potter\'s...grooming...for some job with Voldemort in the battle that is surely coming. I\'m sure she believes that all three of them, Granger, Potter, and Weasley, will be part of whatever scenario unfolds. In addition, N.E.W.T.s are coming up, and you surely know how tense she will be over those.\" Oh, and did I happen to mention? She\'s taking instruction in druidism, and taking her Potions Master\'s cock as well. Not that such things would add to her stress level, no indeed.

Minerva smiled. \"I certainly do know. I expect very high scores out of that young lady, actually. Hmm, Severus. What shall we do about this? I must think a moment.\" She closed her eyes, removed her glasses, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Snape fidgeted. It seemed he had made it past the danger point without giving himself and Hermione away. Minerva was typically very astute where her students were concerned, and had often surprised him with her intuitions about himself.

She spoke at last. \"I think we must involve her parents. Perhaps this has been a problem in the past; they may have advice to offer.\"

\"Muggles,\" Snape muttered. \"Dentists?\"

\"Loving parents,\" Minerva reminded him. She nodded firmly to herself. \"I will owl them, immediately. Now, tonight. Help me draft a letter. As her Head of House, I can do nothing less. If it weren\'t such a bad time for us to be absent from the school, I would even say we should take Hermione home and all discuss what\'s been happening to her. She needs the warmth and comfort of her family to help her through this.\"

Snape rose and went around to the back of her desk to help her write to the Grangers, those dentists.