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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
- 15
- 16
- 17
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! You can all thank her for her wonderful encouragement.

Thursday

The Quidditch pitch was still and quiet in the early hours of the morning. The air was crisp and clear as the light of the newly risen sun caused the morning dew to sparkle and dance upon the damp grass. A tall, dark-haired figure sat silently in the stands, gazing out over the empty pitch.

In the light of morning, things always seemed much simpler. Especially here, where he was just Harry - Quidditch Captain and Gryffindor, rather than ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived’ – supposed saviour of the wizarding world.

Images of a certain blonde Slytherin were playing over and over in his head. At least the little prat had helped him out in one regard. Harry no longer had any doubts that he preferred men to women. If he could kiss Ginny, whom he loved, and feel nothing but vague warmth and then be kissed by Malfoy, whom he hated, and find himself more turned on than he had ever experienced, then he definitely preferred boys. No doubt about it.

A small part of him was grateful to Malfoy for having given him the chance to know for sure. Before now he had only half-admitted it…now he knew, deep in his soul.

Surprisingly, the knowledge didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. For him it was clearly the natural order of things, though he knew others wouldn’t necessarily see it the same way. He shuddered at the thought of taking a boyfriend home to meet the Dursleys.

The big question now was what to do about Malfoy? He trusted the evil git about as far as he could throw him…despite him using Harry’s first name and acting like they suddenly had things in common. He was up to something, for sure. Maybe Draco preferred boys too, maybe not. It wasn’t actually important. The important thing was that he was manipulative and selfish, and needed to be watched very closely.

And Harry decided to do exactly that.

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

Alchemical texts littered the floor and desk when Severus returned from his third year class to find Hermione poring over their new discovery. The ease with which she was making herself at home warmed him.

“There has to be a solution. If it could be created, it can also be undone. What about this one?” Hermione skipped the conventional greeting altogether, getting straight to the heart of things, and flipped the book to face him. “Would a potion work?”

Admiring her focus and tenacity, he leaned over her shoulder where she sat at his desk. She was looking for some way to absorb the soul once it was released from the two bodies. Scanning the text, he shook his head. “We need something that will consume their soul or destroy it - something a little stronger than a binding solution, I think.”

“What about a variation on a horcrux? Could we somehow trap their soul in an inanimate object?” Hermione was chewing a curl of hair as she considered the problem.

He reached out absently and tugged it from between her teeth, smoothing his thumb over her cheek as he did so. “And when did you become an expert on horcruxes? That might take months, even years of research with no guaranteed outcome.” He raised a querying eyebrow.

A wide smile crossed her face, at both the intimacy and the tease. “Just thinking aloud,” she told him. “What about—”

“We need some way to destroy their soul, but we also need a way to extract it in the first place. Maybe a series of potions…” he mused aloud, pulling up a chair to sit beside her.

“Where is a Dementor when you need one?” Hermione sighed, chuckling.

Halfway into his chair, Severus suddenly went very still. He gazed at her without blinking.

“What?” she asked bemused by his sudden stillness.

“Where is a Dementor when you…? Hermione, that’s it!” His eyes glittered with excitement as he stood up again.

“Severus I was kidding. Have a spare Dementor in your storeroom, do you?” She shook her head in amusement.

“No, however there are signs of one in the Forbidden Forest.” His look was meaningful as her eyes went wide. “Hagrid has been tracking one for several days. I haven’t made the time to assist him in dealing with it.”

“Why not? I would have thought a rogue Dementor worth sorting out.”

“I’ve been distracted,” he shrugged.

“Why does Hagrid need help?” she frowned, clearly thinking of the huge Gamekeeper and his uncanny ability with what others would call ‘monsters’.

“Hagrid doesn’t know Occlumency. Only a skilled Occlumens can communicate with a Dementor. They go wild at the first sniff of emotion. One has to be carefully controlled. It’s the reason the Dark Lord has been able to negotiate with them.”

“That and the fact that he offers them human souls for breakfast,” Hermione scowled.

“Indeed.” Severus scowled at the thought of what the Dark Lord might have offered the Dementors of Azkaban in order to secure their loyalty.

Her eye’s widened as she realised exactly what he was planning. “You want to sic a Dementor onto the Dark Lord?” she asked in horror.

“I plan to invite the Dementor to come along with us when we attack, yes. When the assault is made, the Dementor can consume the soul.”

A deep shudder of revulsion skipped down Hermione’s spine. Dementors were the most horrible creatures she had ever come across. And after enduring Hagrid’s Care of Magical Creatures lessons, that was saying something.

“What makes you think the Dementor will even want Lord Voldemort’s soul?” she asked.

He resisted the urge to smile at the implication that the contaminated soul might not be palatable even to a Dementor. “This is a breakaway. It did not join with the Dark Lord for some reason of its own, and if it is offered his soul in payment for being deprived of its source of ‘food’ in Azkaban, I believe it will agree.”

Hermione nodded and then pointed out the flaw in his plan. “How does one catch a Dementor, Severus?”

His smile was pure evil. “Bait.”

“What on earth does one use for bait?” Her brow furrowed as she considered the options.

“A shining soul,” he pointed out, his eyes glittering.

“And what idiot are you going to convince to—?” She broke off at the look he was giving her, her eyes going wide. “Oh no, no chance! You aren’t using me as bait for some heavy-breathing icicle in a cloak. I refuse and you can’t make me.” She stuck her nose in the air. His eyes narrowed and a wicked smile spread across his face. He took one step forward.

Twenty minutes later they were headed for Hagrid’s hut.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” she moaned. “It’s not fair. You kissed me and I said ‘yes’ in a weak moment.”

His expression was smug. “You will be in no danger. I just need you to attract the Dementor. Then Hagrid will see you to safety while I convince it to cooperate.”

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

Hagrid’s hut loomed in the half-dark. The half-giant was sitting on his front step, sharpening arrow points.

“Perfesser! ‘Ermione! This is a lovely surprise. What can I do fer yeh?” Hagrid’s beetle black eyes shone with pleasure.

“We have come to fix your problem,” Severus informed him.

Hagrid blinked at them blankly.

“In the forest,” the Professor qualified.

A shadow crossed Hagrid’s face. “Ah, right.”

“You will have no reason to approach the creature. Miss Gr…” He winced as a sharp elbow connected with his ribs. Hagrid looked curiously at her. “Hermione will act as a lure for the dark creature. When it appears, you shall escort her out of the forest to safety, leaving me to deal with it.”

Hagrid was still looking confused. There was something strange going on between Hermione and the Professor. They were standing very close together, and Hermione had nudged him right in the ribs, without the Professor saying one word about it.

“An’ I don’t have to go near it?” Hagrid’s memories of Azkaban distracted him from the unusual activity occurring between student and teacher.

“Not at all, Hagrid.” Hermione’s eyes brimmed with understanding.

“A’right then, when did yeh wan’ ta go?” Hagrid asked reluctantly.

Severus raised his eyebrows, looking at him with a pointed stare and Hagrid shuffled his enormous feet. “Oh, right. I’ll get me gear, then.” He lumbered off into his hut.

When he returned, the Professor had his face close to Hermione’s. They were speaking in urgent whispers. “Er, Perfesser?” Hagrid interrupted in a bewildered voice. He was watching their odd behaviour with a frown. “Will ‘Ermione be safe from that ‘orrible critter?”

“He won’t let anything harm me, Hagrid.” It was Hermione who answered his question, bewildering Hagrid when the Professor did not object to her speaking for him. In fact, the way the older man was looking at his young friend was downright disturbing.

“Right, then. Well, I got me crossbow,” he indicated the huge metal contraption slung over his shoulder. “But I might leave Fang at ‘ome. No point upsettin’ ‘im. He’s nuthin’ but a big coward anyway.”

Hagrid led them into the Forest, the dark canopy of trees soon obliterating all light.

“Lumos!” Two wands flared to life, lighting their way.

After twenty minutes, Hagrid slowed his pace. “This is the spot. I seen signs righ’ in this glade. I was hopin’ I were wrong, but look,” he pointed to a scrap of fabric caught on a low tree branch, “that weren’ there b’fore, an’ th’ frost damage…”

The glade was barren and lifeless, as though some pestilence had stalked through it.

The Professor placed his hands on the girl’s shoulders, looking her directly in the face. “Hermione, go and sit on the log in the centre of the clearing. Hagrid and I shall wait here in the shadows. I want you to feel as ‘loudly’ as you can…big, emotional thoughts. Can you do that?”

Swallowing hard, she nodded. The warm hands on her shoulders squeezed almost imperceptibly and then released her. Hagrid stared at them, his beetle black eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Hermione walked out into the clearing. At the centre was a log, withered and winter-blasted. She sat down, screwed her face up in concentration and then relaxed. It was clear to Hagrid that her thoughts were pleasant ones from the warm, contented smile gracing her face.

It didn’t take long. A dark chill filled the air, like someone had put out the sun. Hagrid could feel the horrible, familiar feeling of dim despair rising in his chest. His throat tightened and he watched Hermione closely, determined that no harm would come to her. Then, dread settled deep in his chest.

“Perfessor,” he whispered anxiously, “’ow are we gunna get to ‘Ermione before that thing does?”

The Professor was slowly twisting a silvery ring on his left hand. His eyes had not once left the girl sitting silently in the open.

“Do not let it concern you, Hagrid,” he said in a low voice. “When it appears, I shall approach it and Hermione will come to you. Get her away as quickly as possible.”

Hagrid nodded.

The descending chill began to freeze the tips of the branches. A swooping noise made both men look up. A lone Dementor was spiraling down, like water flushing down a drain, it corkscrewed in ever diminishing circles lower and lower over the oblivious girl’s head. Hagrid held his breath. Glancing at the dark-robed man by his side, he watched a grim look pass over his face.

*********

As the Dementor swooped low to the ground, Hermione’s eyes snapped open in alarm. Instantaneously, she felt the ring on her finger heat briefly and within moments a black-clad figure stood by her side. He stepped between her and the Dementor, his wand out. She could hear the creature’s rattling breath and struggled under the despair that washed over her.

It was like the world had lost all hope and love. There was a horrible drain on her energy, making her want to crumple to the ground and weep. The urge to wail was almost compulsive.

“Return to Hagrid.” He faced the dark creature, his eyes focused and calm. The Dementor hesitated with the impassive man standing between it and its prey and then, scenting the emotion pouring in waves from the terrified girl at his back, began its inexorable advance.

“Run,” Severus hissed. She did not hesitate.

The Dementor turned its head and watched her depart. Its craving for her was tangible. Severus again stepped into its path as it made to pursue her fleeing form.

As she bolted back to the shadows and into Hagrid’s arms, tears tracking her cheeks, she cast one last glance over her shoulder. Two figures in black stood in the centre of the clearing. Neither moved as some silent communication passed between them. The Dementor hovered menacingly just off the ground, cloak flowing as though in water. Her lover did not appear affected by it as she had been. She prayed his Occlumency skills would be enough to keep him safe.

She lost sight of them as Hagrid picked her up, slung her unceremoniously over his shoulder, and began to run. She would never have kept up with his long strides. As it was, she was still partly blinded by her tears. After several minutes, the chill was gone from the air and Hagrid placed Hermione back on the ground.

“Thanks, Hagrid.” She was breathless from the bone-jarring ride over his shoulder. She looked nervously backwards. “Will he be alright?”

Hagrid followed the line of her gaze and his brow furrowed. “Er, ‘Ermione, is there anythin’ you wan’ ta tell me?”

She looked at him perplexed as she struggled at his side through the thick undergrowth of the forest. “What do you mean, Hagrid?”

He was having trouble meeting her eyes. “Erm, jus’ that you seem to be very friendly with the Perfesser thar,” he muttered, blushing slightly. “You would tell me if ee were doin’ anythin’… erm… inappropriate, wouldn’ ye?”

Hermione bit her lip in resignation. It seemed Hagrid hadn’t been there for Dumbledore’s announcement.

She held up her left hand and showed him the faintly glowing band on her finger.

Hagrid’s eyes widened. “Tha’s jus’ like the ring Perfesser Snape were wearin’ tonight. Why’s it on your ring finger?”

“It’s a wedding ring. It matches the one that Severus has.” She waited for the penny to drop.

“Well, why’ve you got it, then?” the big man asked blankly.

Hermione sighed. “Because, he gave it to me when we got married this week.” Sometimes it was better to simply spit it out.

“Aw, tha’s ni…” he stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to face her. “Married?”

Hermione smiled and kept walking. “Yes, Hagrid.”

“You…and the Perfesser?” Hagrid took several large strides to catch up, brushing aside a wide branch blocking his path.

“Yes.”

“Does the ‘eadmaster, know?” His face was worried.

“Professor Dumbledore married us,” she explained kindly.

Hagrid was shocked, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. “Well, I’ll be…” was all he managed to say.

They reached the edge of the forest and returned to Hagrid’s hut. He made them each a cup of tea, handing Hermione some chocolate at the same time. They sat on the step while they waited, Hagrid still shaking his head and throwing her astonished looks of astonishment.

It was half an hour before a dark shadow appeared at the Forest’s edge and wove unsteadily towards them. Hermione abandoned the enormous mug, slopping tea on the step in her haste.

Oblivious to the curious stare from her half-giant friend, and throwing all caution to the wind, she ran, launching herself into Severus’ arms. The look on his face was priceless.

“Are you alright?” her voice was muffled against his chest, but she was clinging to him too tightly to lift her head.

He did not set her away from him as she had expected. She looked up, concerned. His face was pale and drawn.

“Hagrid has chocolate,” she whispered.

He nodded and with an arm still wrapped about her shoulders, he leaned on her until they reached the Gamekeeper’s hut.

Hagrid gaped while Hermione fussed over her husband. She fed him chocolate and tea until the pinched look had left him, stroking his hair back from his face as she peered worriedly at him. Finally, satisfied that he was alright, she settled at his side. He did not complain when she took his hand, though his face still held a strange look.

“Did it agree?” Her voice was anxious.

He nodded at her over the rim of the enormous teacup, noticing Hagrid’s open stare at their entwined fingers.

“I assume that since your crossbow is not presently pointed at my chest, my bride has explained our arrangement?” he addressed Hagrid.

“Well, if I hadn’t, thank you for breaking it to him so gently!” she flared.

Hagrid nodded. “Congratulations…to yeh both. Blimey, but I never thought I’d see th’ day.” He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and then beamed at them.

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

Identical pairs of ice grey eyes regarded each other in the fading light.

“I’m telling you, Father, I can get him.” The words were swallowed up by the deepening shadows of the forest.

Lucius assessed his son’s words and then sighed. “Draco, we have had this conversation.” His voice carried a tinge of irritation. “The Malfoy heir must continue the line. I will not have you pursue that path – not even for Harry Potter.”

“One day, you will have to acknowledge me for who I am,” Draco pointed out resentfully.

“One day you will understand the importance of having a son and you will do whatever is necessary to secure one. Dallying with boys is hardly going to benefit the cause.” He held up a slender hand to forestall any argument. “Do as you will in private, boy, but to the world you must play the role your ancestry has laid out for you. And be more discreet about it.”

Lucius had arranged to meet after Pansy had complained to Mr. Parkinson that Draco had been up to ‘mischief’ again. Draco resisted the urge to sigh. There were no real secrets in his world, no matter how Slytherin they were.

The cold, silver handle of Lucius’ cane forced him to raise his chin.

“Believe it or not, I do understand what you are going through,” his father said pointedly.

“Don’t patronize me, Father!” he snapped, pushing the stick away.

Lucius’ eyes became wintry. “Do not raise your voice to me. Unless you can be more circumspect, I will not condone this course of action. If word gets out, no woman will bother with you and everything will be for naught.”

Draco laughed bitterly. “The Malfoy money will always ensure willing women, Father.”

“You need more than a willing woman, Draco. You will need a wife – a decent wife. Not like the one Snape has.” The sneer was rich in his voice.

“What?” Draco frowned.

“Oh yes, it seems our slippery friend got himself married. Actually I was surprised you hadn’t discovered more information about it, but then it is probably not common knowledge at the school.”

A light went on in Draco’s mind. “Not Granger?! The Headmaster said something daft at dinner last week but I thought he was just off his trolley. Nobody took it seriously. I mean, Granger and Snape?”

Lucius nodded. “A Mudblood,” he declared in disgust.

“What about the prophecy?”

Lucius shrugged elegantly. “The Dark Lord is still searching for the traitor. I’m still not convinced it isn’t Snape. The Prophecy did say ‘woman’s love’ after all, and no woman has ever loved that charmless snake, whether she has slept with him or not.”

Draco scowled, amazed at the Potions master’s audacity in choosing to marry his own student. “Father, let’s take this chance. I can deliver Potter to the Dark Lord. I’ve got him off balance. Soon he’ll do anything for me. We can still move ahead with this.”

A muscle flickered in Lucius’ jaw, but the potential for his son outweighed the risk. “Very well, but you only have one week. This was not what I had in mind when I wrote that you should find a way to get close to the boy. If you cannot secure him by that time, I insist that you abandon the attempt.”

Draco’s eyes burned with triumph. “I won’t fail, Father.”

Lucius pinned his son with a haughty stare. “See that you don’t!”

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

Curfew passed. Hermione got ready for bed, once again closing the curtains around her bed and waiting for silence to fill the dormitory. She was getting adept at moving between the dungeons and her dormitory. The portkey took her one way after lights out, and the Floo brought her back before dawn.

Surprisingly there had been little backlash from the students on her return. She had been on the receiving end of a few odd looks but it appeared that so many people doubted Dumbledore’s sanity that they had assumed it was some kind of a practical joke. And since she and Snape had gone about their day to day business as normal, no-one had thought twice about it.

When the soft snores of her roommates could be heard, she activated her ring.

Silently, she was transported to the dungeons and was instantly enfolded by the eager arms of her waiting lover.

“Did you miss me?” she asked cheekily, as he nuzzled her neck.

“Not at all. I was enjoying the peace and quiet.” His breath was hot against her throat as he trailed kisses from her ear to her collar bone. “I’m perfectly capable of entertaining myself.”

His hands molded themselves over her curves and she was boneless in his embrace, her breathing rapid. A sweet ache ran through her, bringing a wave of heated arousal with it.

Their mouths met in a searing kiss causing her to moan deep in her throat. “Well,” she whispered huskily against his searching lips, “you clearly don’t need me then.”

He ground his hips against hers, allowing her to feel the pulsing heat of his erection. “Oh, I don’t know,” he gasped raggedly, “I’m sure I can find something to do with you.”

He claimed her mouth again and words became superfluous.

His fingers became busy, undoing the fastenings of her clothing to reveal her pearly skin to his heated gaze. She watched him with slumberous eyes as he applied himself to the task of getting them both naked.

His quarters were cool, raising goosebumps on her skin as it was exposed to the air. Finally she stood before him. His eyes were soft as they swept over her bare limbs.

Strong arms lifted her from the ground and placed her carefully in the centre of the bed. Her arms went about his neck, not permitting him to move any distance away from her. The strength of her desire was washing over her in huge waves, a driving force that screamed for fulfillment. She writhed urgently against him and wrapped her thighs about his hips.

“I don’t want to wait,” she begged. “I want you inside me now.”

The naked longing that lit his face pierced her heart as he dragged in an unsteady breath and positioned himself over her. He was more than ready. With one sure thrust he filled her completely, making her cry out with the sudden intensity.

Her nails raked his back, alternately caressing and clutching as she encouraged him to move within her. She couldn’t breathe. The ache between her legs was building, stoked by his forceful strokes. Capturing one taut nipple between his teeth, he surprised a gasp from her, making her buck beneath him.

They were burning from within, lost in the fire of their want. Severus could not hold back, burying himself in her sweet flesh as she clung to him, whispering her encouragement and moaning in delight at his fierce passion.

Their movements were fast and furious; a world away from their first polite coupling. She raised her knees and lifted her hips high to meet him, digging her heels into his thighs. He slammed into her with a harsh groan of satisfaction and exploded inside her, biting her neck as he lost himself in orgasm.

The deep pulsing that filled her as he spilled his seed satisfied a profound need within her. A primal possessiveness filled her and spiraled upwards in a convulsive crescendo.

His name spilled from her lips as she clenched around him in a wild spasm of pleasure. They were both lost for several long moments, the room filled with their ragged breathing and delighted moans.

Severus collapsed on top of her. She reveled in the shared intimacy. His breathing was harsh in her ear and she kissed the side of his neck. Raising his head, his black eyes were liquid as he looked down at her.

Disengaging gingerly surprised another sensitive groan from both of them. Then he turned her and pulled her back against him, fitting her curves into his and burying his face in the back of her neck. She wriggled her bottom against his thighs, wrapped herself in his arms, and made herself comfortable.

‘What were you thinking about today, when you waited for the Dementor in the forest?” She could feel the rumble of his chest as he spoke.

She was silent for a moment. Sitting in that clearing, the strongest emotions she could muster were her feelings for the man pressed against her back. All she had thought about was how much she loved him. But she couldn’t tell him that. Loving wasn’t part of the deal.

She decided to tell him a half-truth. “I was remembering the strongest and most recent emotions I have. Why?”

“You looked…happy,” he observed casually.

She turned slightly to look into his face. “I am happy, Severus.”

He kissed the tiny smile that drifted across her face and promptly fell asleep.

*************
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Kiss The Serpent