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Shattered	By : Adriana Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 11986 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Shattered

By Adriana

trixielou60@hotmail.com

Just a brief note before I go on: The inspiration for the phoenix tattoo and the Sentient Kiss came from a story called Love and War, by Night Spirit. She graciously gave her permission for my adaptation. I�m putting a unique twist on the idea, and it is different from how she used them in her story. My thanks to her!
And now on to Shattered:
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I have heard what the talkers were talking,

the talk of the beginning and the end;

But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.

There was never any more inception than there is now,

Nor any more youth or age than there is now;

And will never be any more perfection than there is now,

Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.
~From the poem, "Song of Myself" by Walt Whitman
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Chap3: B3: Beginning
Hermione found herself wandering the Hogwarts hallways in a daze after the meeting in the Headmaster's office. Albus had concluded that it had been a trying day and that they had much to think about. Hermione thought this to be a typical Albus Dumbledore understatement. Although this was still a Saturday, she was delighted to see some of the students roaming the halls and the grounds of her old school. Somehow, it comforted her to know that no matter what happened out in the "real world", at least some things hadn't changed at Hogwarts.
"Oi Hermione! Wait up!"

"No, it can't be," she thought to herself. Turning around for confirmation she looked at Draco Malfoy with mixed emotions.
"Did I just hear the mighty Draco Malfoy utter the word, 'Oi'? And where's the term of endearment, you know, 'Mudblood', 'stupid bitch', etc., etc.?"
He smiled his most charming smile for her "I'm not my daddy's Draco Malfoy, anymore."
"What do you want, Malfoy?" She continued to walk briskly down the hall. Draco hurried after her.
"You and I have a lot to talk about, believe it or not. I thought we could discuss things over a nice romantic dinner at that new Italian restaurant in Diagon Alley." He cut off her noise of protest. "Now, now, first of all I can assure you that you'll be perfectly safe with me."
Hene sne snorted in disbelief.
"And secondly, we truly have serious things to talk about, Hermione. Lives are at stake. I know we never got along in school and I may have been a little cruel," he paused as Hermione raised an eyebrow. "All right, I was very cruel, but if you go out to dinner with me, I'll explain everything. After all, if Potty, erm, Potter and I can put the past behind us, then so can you and I!"

She frowned. "I don't think that would be a good . . . "
Suddenly Draco grabbed her by the hands aoughoughly pushed her up against the wall. He quickly lowered his head and gave her a very hard, passionate kiss. She struggled against him, beginning to sputter in protest. Draco moved his soft mouth against her ear and whispered, "Calm down. There are students watching us and I know from past experience that Little Death Eaters have big eyes and big ears. Please, I'll explain everything, but in the meantime, for the sake of my life, just kiss me back."
"That's the worse pick-up line I've ever heard," Hermione whispered back. His startling gray eyes looked at her with amusement. She leaned up, pretending to kiss his neck but instead gave him a sharp bite on his earlobe.
Draco yelped in pain then whispered in delight, "I think I'm going to really enjoy this."
He straightened up. "It wouldn't look good for us to be seen playing footsie together in public right after Madam Pomfrey's death. We'll talk about this more after the funeral. Au revoir, Dr. Granger." He gallantly kissed her hand.
The last thing Hermione saw before he walked away was the Malfoy Smirk.
"What the hell have I gotten myself into?"
************************************
The harsh Bulgarian winter wind penetrated the thin walls of the rundown house. Wormtail shivered, but he wasn't sure it was completely from the cold. The Dark Lord was sitting in a chair by the hearth and his smile was menacing.
"Come closer, Peter." Wormtail shuddered at the sound of his name from his Master's thin, cruel lips.
"It's been confirmed," he said harshly. "Snape is a traitor. I thought so all along, you know. He's a clever one, but I'm even more clever. I knew he couldn't stand by and watch that stupid woman die."
Wormtail looked at Voldemort's bright red eyes. "You knew, my Lord?"
"Oh yes. He's always been a good actor, but he couldn't hide his revulsion at the revels. He's grown soft over the years, he tires of the game. It was only a matter of time before he was found out."
"What are you going to do to him?"
"He�ll get what's coming to him, in the end. I have a plan, Peter." He gave a soft laugh and Wormtail was struck by the hollow sound. "My hope is resting on young Draco Malfoy."
"Are you s-s-sure that's wise, Master?" Wormtail stuttered with uncertainty.
"Are you doubting me, Peter?"
"Oh! Oh no, Master. P-p-please." To his own horror, fearful tears began to well up in his squinty eyes.
"Nevermind," said the Dark Lord. "I have given young Malfoy a test. If he's a traitor, he's already told my enemies that I'm interested in Hermione Granger's research. It's a red-herring. I could care less about her research."
"Then what is your interest in the girl, my Lord?"
"Hermione Granger is a healer. There is nothing she could do to hurt me. No, my interest in Dr. Granger lies with Harry Potter. If Mr. Malfoy is successful in courting her, it will become a distraction to Potter. Just think, Peter. I will have the best friend of Harry Potter working for my success and she won't even know it. The closer Malfoy gets to Granger, the closer I get to Harry Potter. A 'friendship' with Draco Malfoy will make her susceptible to the Dark. And besides, she's a Sentient, which could come in very handy." He gave out a booming laugh.
"How do you know Hermione Granger will even talk to Draco Malfoy, let alone become his lover? She always hated him, I thought."
"Draco has always been a success with the fairer sex. She won't be able to resist him. I doubt she's ever had any man, much less someone of Malfoy's obvious charm, give her a second glance. I'm quite certain that she'll fall hard for him. In the meantime, she'll be wasting her time trying to figure out why I'm interested in her medical work, should Mr. Malfoy be so foolish as to tell her. In fact, this may be a way to see where his loyalties really lie."
Voldemort stood suddenly. "There is much work to be done. Tonight, we leave for England."
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Snape paced the front of his potions classroom, very deep in thought. His mind was whirling with everything that had transpired, everything he had heard, and everything he'd seen.
Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger.
He had just rounded a corner to catch a glimpse of them in a passionate embrace against a wall. His fists had tightened involuntarily and he'd wondered at his reaction. Of course Malfoy had to begin putting the plan into action, but why this would bother him, he couldn't say.
His memory of Hermione Granger as a student was of a small, slender girl with too much hair, skin too pale and frown lines along her forehead from too much reading in a dim light. She�d been a thorn in his side for years, always showing off in class and covertly trying to help her less talented classmates. She�d irritated him the whole time she�d been in school. Once she left, he�d heard snippets here and then from Minerva and Poppy about what she�d been up to.
At the time, he couldn�t have cared less.
But now he was struck by the maturing change in her in the intervening years. While she wasn't conventionally attractive, there was a glowing spirit about her that made her very pretty, which was an unsettling revelation to him. Maybe it was her full pink lips, or her warm, large brown eyes, but what ever it was, Snape was now looking at her in a completely new light.
His mind involuntarily flickered n imn imaginary mental image of her naked. Was her skin really as soft as it looked? Would her breasts be as beautiful as he suspected?
A voice in his mind admonished him. "Great Merlin, what the hell is wrong with you? She�s a brat and twenty years your junior. Get a grip, you pervert.
Poor choice of words.
Shaking his head, he strode out of his classroom and headed for the Library. He had to research the subject of the Soul's role in maintaining physical health. He really knew very little about it because, to be honest, his soul hadn't concerned him much over the years. He was pretty certain that he'd lost his a long time ago.
Madam Pince was nowhere to be found when he entered the Library. Making a beeline for the Restricted Section, he was rewarded by the sight of Hermione Granger seated at a table, a large stack of books obscuring his view of her. He pushed his previous thoughts of her away.
"Dr. Granger," he said smoothly. "How unsurprising."
Hermione was startled, but recovered quickly. "I was just trying to gather up some reference books on Soul Gathering. I've discovered that we're missing some vital textbooks on the subject and I'm going to have them sent over from Edinburgh University. I'm also going to go back to my flat and bring my notebooks. I told you that I'd worked out some of the arithmancy and I'm going to need them as a starting point to reverse the Soul Gathering process."
Snape nodded. "I've got some ideas of my own that I think we should discuss. While my arithmancy is a little rusty, I'm very knowledgeable on the subject of the properties of potions." He allowed himself a subtle smile. "If we can work out what it is we want the potion to do, I can make it," he added boastfully.
Hermione let out a small grin. "I have no doubt of that, Professor. You always were an amazing Potions Master."
Snape flushed, seemingly uncomfortable. He thought it best to change the subject. "Dr. Granger, if you're going to go back to your flat, I suggest that you let Potter accompany you. It may not be safe."
Hermione felt a small stab of disappointment, but refused to examine that feeling further. Was she hoping he'd offer to take her himself? "Erm, Professor, if you'd like perhaps you could come with us? Maybe it would be good for you to get out of the castle for a while."
Snape's face was impassive, but inwardly he was caught off guard by her suggestion. "Thank you, Dr. Granger, but I don't think I'll be going anywhere soon. I guess you weren't paying attention," he snarled, more harshly than he'd intended. Seeing the fallen look on Hermione's face, he added softly, "I shouldn't take it out on you, but you must know that I'm a target for assassination. Once outside the protection of Hogwarts, I'm a sitting duck. Every Death Eater in the country would love to have the honor of killing me for the Dark Lord."
"Oh! Of course." Hermione was embarrassed at her blunder.
"Nevermind," said Snape. "I think it best if we retire for the evening. Once you've gathered your materials, we can begin working on the potion. Time is of the essence, but there is truly nothing that can be done right now. Good evening, Dr. Granger." With a nod of his head, he departed from the Library.
***************************
The morning of Madam Pomfrey's funeral was cold and crisp, but the sun was shining, much to Hermione's relief. She didn't think she'd be able to stand it if it the day had dawned gray and rainy. Harry came by her suite to escort her out to the grounds, where Albus was to preside over the ceremony. Hermione chose to wear simple black robes, her hair tamed from its usual bushiness, her face unadorned by make-up.
One of the first things she 'd noticed while observing the ways of the wizard's world was that all important rituals were held outdoors. Later, she learned that mother nature was very important in such events, as it was understood that magic didn't only come from within, but was also all around them in the trees, the flowers and the magical creatures that surrounded them. Hermione knew this to be true as the magical energies of the Earth were called upon during times of healing. She knew from what she'd experienced as a healer that all life was connected, be it the birds in the sky or the grass in the meadow. Everything was in balance. Thus it was that Madam Pomfrey's funeral was held on the grounds of Hogwarts.
The entire school and staff were assembled in a small grove of trees near the lake. Madam Pomfrey was laid out in splendor, dressed in the soft golden robes of Hufflepuff. She was resting on a marble altar, surrounded by the wildflowers she loved so much. There were other guests as well, and Hermione saw the Weasleys and members of the Ministry of Magic. Madam Rosmerta was there, standing next to Hagrid. As she cried softly, he handed her a wadded up handkerchief and she dabbed eyes with it. Hermione found herself searching the crowd for Him.
He was off by a tree, alone. His dark figure cut a startling contrast against the brightness of the sun, as if he didn't belong in the daylight. Hermione saw the thin puff of his breath in the November air and she thought it somehow fitting that he would chose to mourn alone. Minerva had told her in the strictest of confidence that Snape had come to Poppy after all the Death Eater revels a torn and broken man. Poppy had healed his wounds with tender words and loving magic and Snape had grown very attached to the motherly mediwitch. He had never publicly let on that he held any kind of affection for her. If Hermione hadn't heard it from Professor McGonagall, she never would have believed it. Her observation of Snape had been that he was a cold and harsh man, but his obvious grief at Poppy's death belied her previous impression.
Settling an internal struggle, Hermione turned to Harry and whispered, "I'll be back, there's something I need to do." Harry just raised a questioning eyebrow, then shrugged. Taking a calming breath, Hermione walked over to where Snape was standing.
He didn't acknowledge her at first. They stood in the silence, then Snape turned to her and said hoarsely, "Why are you here?"
Hermione didn't answer for a moment. "Because you understand how I feel. Of everybody here, you know what a devastating blow this really is . . . what it is that we've truly lost." She turned to him and said simply, "Because I didn't want to be alone." She tilted her chin and looked into his eyes.
He stared back at her with a breathtaking intensity, his eyes as dark as the midnight sun. "You're not," he said softly.
They stood together during the ceremony, nei of of them saying a word. When the ceremony was over, he turned to her and said something completely unexpected. "Thank you for staying with me." To further compound her confusion, he ran a gentle hand across her cheek, then abruptly turned and walquicquickly away.

What the hell?

If it hadn't been for the tingle left on her cheek from his touch, she would have sworn that she'd dreamt it.
She didn't move for a long time.
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Two days after Madam Pomfrey was laid to rest, Draco Malfoy came calling.
Hermione had just finished going over her arithmancy notes and was getting up for her second cup of tea when there was a soft knock on her door.
Draco Malfoy stood before her, resplendent in dark green velvet robes, which set off the bright highlights of his hair. For the first time ever, she noticed how pretty his hair was: long, ice-coloured and unbound. He caught her staring and his silver eyes began to shine with amusement. He was holding a bouquet of white roses.
"Honestly, Malfoy! Flowers?" Hermione couldn't stifle her giggle.
"I'm not sure what white roses means, but my mother tells me that yellow roses means 'friendship', so that put a nix on the yellow ones. I certainly don't want to be your friend. No, my dear . . . I have better plans for us."
"Oh put a sock in it and just come in." Draco grinned. Hermione put the flowers in a vase.
"I thought tonight would be the perfect night for us to go public. Now put on something dressy but skimpy and go into the bathroom and do whatever it is that women do in the bathroom. We're going to Guido's."
Hermione began to protest, but he tutted, "It's necessary. I'll explain it all when we get to the restaurant." She sighed in defeat.
"Alright, but no kissing."
"No promises."
Guido's turned out to be a delightful little place, tucked away in a corner of Diagon Alley that was lightly traveled. It was very private, yet Hermione felt several eyes upon them when they walked into the restaurant.
"Showtime," said Draco, as he leaned over and ran a sensuous tongue up the inside of her right ear. Hermione nudged him hard in the ribs. With a light laugh, Draco steered her toward a small, intimate table and playing the gentleman, he helped her off with her outer robe. Signaling the waiter, he ordered a bottle of Sangiovese in fluent Italian. Hermione couldn�t help rolling her eyes.
Once the waiter had been dispatched, Draco turned his attention to Hermione. "Don't let my manner fool you," he said. "I may have an irresistible charm, but I can assure you that I'm still a bastard."
"I have no doubt," she answered before he continued.
"This is no harmless game we're playing, but if we play the game, we must play to win. To lose is to die." He lifted Hermione's hand to his lips. "I have my reasons for betraying the Dark Lord, but that's a story for another time. Tonight, we get to know each other. If things go as planned, we will have to trust each other and tonight, it starts." He caressed Hermione's hand and kissed each of her fingertips.
Hermione fought the urge to snatch her hand away from him. Sighing, she said, "Tonight it starts."
They were so engrossed in each other that they didn't notice the dark-haired, attractive woman, who seemed to be having a hard time keeping her eyes off the couple. She was seated two tables away from them and appeared to be dining alone.
Had they looked a little closer, Draco and Hermione would have been startled to recognize the black, obsidian eyes on the face of this unknown woman. Had they stepped a little closer, they would have noticed the barest shimmer of a glamour around those dark features.

"Damn," thought Snape to himself.
This was a new low, even for him.

To be continued . . .

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Author's notes: So what's Snape up to now? Posing as a woman? I wonder what that's all about . . . (grins madly)
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Shattered