Doing it for the Order *Complete* | By : Desert_Sea Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 72673 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 4 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters/things/places created by J.K. Rowling. I make no money from my fan-fiction. |
A/N: I’m obliged to provide you with a death warning for this chapter. DSx
I’d like to thank Ali for the chapter title.
JadedFate – ‘I pounce like a cat on a mouse!’ – And here’s another for you to devour . . . slowly :) x
Fox – ‘that all his service and pain justifies some peace of conscience’ – this was really the tragedy about him in the end, wasn’t it? ‘It is his fault, that she doesn't know him.’ – again such a hard lesson to learn when he has spent his life in perpetual distrust, trying to protect himself from those who would harm him. ‘I hope he won't try an easy exit -into nothingness’ – hard to predict, he is also the willing sacrifice. ‘If she goes ahead with the sacrifice Severus' guilt will push him to do unspeakable.’ – I know! ‘Now is the time to take care of my emotional state’ – Sorry, I can’t promise anything at this stage. Hey, I didn’t know you were in London – I love that city, say hello from me xx
Kvarta – ‘would she rather be the one for which enchantment is created for?’ – you are protective of your Severus aren’t you? ‘when you rewrite presentation for 10th time’ – been there, it’s hell. ‘Don't worry yourself - still bit hormonal’ – so am I, I think that’s why these chapters have been so rough. ‘In this, he's more like me in so many ways.’ – that’s really interesting. He is a much gentler soul than he has been in my past fics. Or at least we see that part of him more intensely. ‘People did not betray you if they didn't manage live up to your image of them’ – I like that. Perhaps she considered his failure to disclose the truth a betrayal? ‘She doesn't want it anymore but she won't share it because it's hers’ – that’s about it, and it’s that conflict that is driving her decision-making. ‘the one that should be smart just said "goodbye" to her brain’ – BAM! Take your insane creature back! xx
OO – ‘And now that I think about it, this whole story has just been waves of "fucked up" smacking us all in the face at regular intervals’ – I love that. I think I’m going to include that in my story summary from now on. Anyone who enjoys being smacked in the face with giant waves of ‘fucked up’, this is the fic for you! ‘And you used embedded with both characters, mirroring their attachment to one another’ – did I? Oh, I mean, ‘yes I did . . . totally deliberate’ ;) ‘Perverti--*Snort-choke*’ – I always think of you when I do made-up names.
Kklou – ‘Here are some flowery declarations of love’ – Yum. *rolling around in flowers*. ‘You always leave a good amount of thorns on the roses that are your stories’ – I do thank you. I find the brokenness and awkward honesty of these two so enticing. ‘who gives this pair Great Big Freak Flags to fly, while simultaneously endearing them to the reader’ – such a delicious description – I truly loved and appreciated it. ‘You've a twisty, awful-lovely mind, Desert’ – try living in here, arrrggghhh! Thank you <3
Ali – ‘So is it Lucky Lucie or Desperate Draco she's contacting....or neither?’ – that is, indeed, the question - to be answered this chapter ;) ‘you have even introduced me to a thoroughly likeable, lesbian Parvati.’ – She is quite lovely. I wouldn’t mind having my own lesbian Vati bodyguard actually. ‘Afternoon tea in the ballroom at the Blackpool Tower’ – it’s all just spas and camping trips and afternoon teas for you lot . . . but I will accept a cake or two (not cauldron as previously discussed) ;)
Chapter 29: Last Orders
“Bang! Bang!”
Severus’ hand slid off the bed, normally she would be right—
Jerking up, he looked around blearily, halting on the empty spot beside him. And the agonising evisceration started anew. He’d dreamed of her. She’d been lying against him, reading, twining his hair around her fingers. And he’d been humming, his chest vibrating against her back. He’d remembered feeling relief, the press of her body soothing the ache, dulling the pain roiling deep inside—
“Bang! Bang! . . . Bang!”
Severus groaned as he rolled out of bed, wandlessly summoning his dressing gown as he stumbled into the lounge room. He stopped. Books. Everywhere. A nearly empty bottle of whisky discarded in the middle. Fuck.
Clambering over the shifting piles, he unlocked the door with a flick and yanked it open.
“About fucking time.” Lucius Malfoy pushed past, kicking books out of his way. “Now where’s Draco?”
“What?”
“Draco—my son? You remember him? A member of the fucking house you’re supposed to head?” Malfoy growled.
Clearly he hadn’t gotten over their last encounter.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Severus muttered, cinching the tie around his gown.
“He’s missing.” Lucius pushed the word through gritted teeth. “Otherwise I wouldn’t fucking be here—talking to the least trustworthy bastard I’ve ever had the displeasure of conversing with.”
“Missing?”
“Yes. Unable to be located. Missing. What the fuck’s wrong with you?”
Severus huffed impatiently. “Elucidate. From where is he missing? What are the circumstances surrounding his disappearance?” He rolled his hand as though encouraging the bleeding obvious.
Malfoy sighed, combing his fingers distractedly through his hair. “He turned up last night, looking like complete—” His jaw tightened. “It seems he’s not been sleeping well. He was agitated about something—shouted at his mother. I told him not to return to Hogwarts—to sleep at the Manor instead. Then this morning I rose to check on him and he was gone. His bed hadn’t been slept in.”
“Perhaps he changed his mind—returned anyway,” Severus suggested.
“Perhaps . . . but he took the fucking dagger with him.” Lucius’ silver eyes met his.
Suddenly Severus couldn’t breathe.
“So . . . now you know why I need to find him.” Lucius leaned toward him, eyes downcast. “If the Dark Lord discovers it missing . . . after he entrusted it to—” He swallowed, unable to continue.
“I’ll find him,” Severus murmured.
“What?”
But Severus was gone, slipping over the books back to his bedroom. Moments later he emerged, fully dressed.
“Where is he?” Malfoy demanded.
“No idea.”
“Where are you going?” Lucius grabbed his arm.
“If that dagger doesn’t return. Draco’s dead.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Malfoy hissed.
“Let me find him.”
Malfoy’s grip tightened. He was clearly conflicted. But then he finally released him with a reluctant grimace.
“He’s not well,” he called after Severus, his voice breaking.
Hermione. Severus could feel the breath rasping through his constricted throat. The dread that had started in the pit of his stomach was spreading, rapidly consuming him, threatening to drag him under like quicksand.
She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t.
It would be . . . unthinkable.
Only someone utterly . . . someone with a ridiculously . . . someone so fucking . . . so totally . . . totally . . . her . . . Hermione . . . only she would do such a thing.
“No.” A wretched moan escaped him as he started to run, startled students recoiling as their normally impeccably composed Professor flew past.
Minutes later he arrived at Gryffindor Tower, gasping for breath. The common room door suddenly opened. Potter.
“Where is she?”
Harry looked at him in surprise. “Who?”
“Herm . . . uh . . . Miss . . . Granger,” he panted. “. . . Where is she?”
Harry crossed his arms. “How should I know?”
“I need to see her.”
“Do you have another ‘appointment’?” Harry sneered.
Severus shook his head. “No . . . I just . . .” He swallowed with difficulty. “Please . . . Harry . . .”
Harry’s eyes widened. He’d never seen Snape like this. Pleading. And he’d never called him ‘Harry’ before.
“Why?”
“It’s . . . it’s . . . important.”
He looked like he was about to cry.
Sighing, Harry shook his head. “She left.”
“When?”
“Not long ago.”
“Did she say where she was going?”
“No, she . . . she didn’t say anything, she just . . .”
Severus nodded at him to continue.
“She just hugged me. A really . . . really big hug. And left.”
Severus’ eyes fixed on Harry’s. “Thank you,” he murmured before turning and striding back the way he’d come.
His gaze immediately went to the Tower windows. As he passed each, he caught a glimpse of the Hogwarts grounds. Then he stopped. There. It was her—hurrying past Hagrid’s hut. She was heading for the Forbidden forest.
***
His lungs were on fire. He’d taken every short cut, blasted every door open, knocked every unsuspecting student, and even a handful of teachers, out of his way but it had still taken some time to arrive at the spot that he’d last seen her. He hadn’t had time to deduce which direction she’d taken but he had a sinking sense as he scanned the forbidding woodland that he already knew.
Racing between the trees, he headed for the ancient oak grove. Within it was a stone altar. It had been used for various ceremonies in the past. Now it was moss-covered and served little purpose—at least he desperately hoped that was still the case.
Using the tree trunks to steady himself, he slithered along the tracks, heavy with mud from the overnight rain.
Footprints. Slight. Narrow. Hers.
“Hermione!” he cried.
No response.
He couldn’t be too late. Not again.
“Hermione! I’m . . . I’m coming,” he sobbed, cursing the mud that was suctioning onto his boots, slowing him down.
Casting spell after spell, he cleared the way as best he could.
Finally he saw it. The grove—shrouded in deep shadow. Someone had cast a concealment spell making it extremely difficult to see.
Approaching, he finally glimpsed movement. A metallic glint. Suddenly the air was split by a scream, sharp but cut short.
He was too late.
Staggering on leaden legs, he lurched between stumps and rocks.
“No!” His strangled cry grated against the silence.
Draco looked up, mouth open, wild-eyed.
“What have you done?”
The blond backed away as he approached. A figure was lying on the stone slab, the ornate dagger still embedded in her abdomen.
He threw himself onto his knees, pressing a hand to the wound. “I’m here, Hermione,” he gasped. “I’m right . . . here.”
Only Hermione’s eyes moved, flickering and dull as she tried to focus on his face.
Her blood was blooming rapidly—spreading like spilt ink. Scarlet. So stark against the white of her gown.
He began frantically casting one of his own healing spells—the words running together in his haste to reverse what was already a devastating amount of damage.
“I’m sorry, Severus,” she gasped, her forehead furrowing sadly. “It was . . . just . . . too much.”
She attempted to lift a hand to him but it fell back to the cold stone.
Then he felt it. The jolt deep inside. A surge followed by a static throb, dwindling to depletion. The enchantment . . . was gone.
And so was she.
Lips falling apart with shock, he looked up to see Draco who had collapsed against a tree, arms wrapped around his stomach.
“Why . . .?” Severus cried, stumbling to his feet. “Why?!” he screamed again, before throwing himself at the boy.
“It wasn’t just for me!” Draco tried to protect himself. “I did it for all of us!”
Severus shook him like a rag doll before throwing him to the ground, pulling out his wand and stabbing it into the boy’s side.
“I had to,” Draco sobbed. “I didn’t have a choice. He would have eventually killed us all.”
Severus’ vision blurred as he struggled to breathe. Hermione was right. It was too much. Suddenly his wand arm went limp. He couldn’t do it anymore. Draco took the opportunity to crawl away before lurching to his feet and stumbling into the forest.
Choking on his grief, Severus gazed into the patchwork of bare tree branches overhead. His body started convulsing uncontrollably, captured by a series of violent shudders that took him several moments to control. Then, when the quaking had finally eased and he was ready to return to the altar, he removed his coat slowly, each movement imbued with sombre reverence, a painful acknowledgement of what she’d done.
Placing his coat on the ground beside her, he knelt, carefully lifting her body from the slab before lowering her down and gently brushing a lock of hair from her face. It was the one that always chose to sit right there, whether she was chewing her lip, puzzling out a formula, smiling at him mysteriously over her cup of tea, or gazing into his eyes, touching his soul when they were making love.
Despite the blue that had seeped into her pale lips, they held a residual warmth as he ran his thumb across them. Then he simply lay beside her, shoulder against the damp, mossy ground.
Grasping one of her small hands between his, he uncurled her fingers, placing her palm against his cheek as he closed his eyes.
He willed time to stop—for that moment to stretch on . . . without end. For both to remain as they were, the remnants of a life once lived still within her, the bitter cold of death seeping into him. Both transitioning from this forsaken world . . . together.
He didn’t know how long he lay there, but as some point he was jolted awake by the pain in his frozen joints.
Time hadn’t stopped. He could feel it. The dagger’s vampiric properties had taken their toll. Her hand was shrivelled, the skin against his face as dry as parchment.
He didn’t want to open his eyes—to witness what she had become. To behold the hollowed out shell of her beautiful face.
Heart sinking to an unparalleled low, he moaned softly before cracking open his eyes.
Suddenly he recoiled, dropping the withered hand with a strangled gasp.
Dumbledore?!
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