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Enter Sandman	By : LadySnape Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 6917 -:- 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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Voices

By Lady Snape

disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters from Harry Potter and the universe from which they are derived belong to J.K. Rowling. I just am taking them out to play. The song "Enter the Sandman" is by Metallica.

Sleep with one eye open
gripping your pillow tight,

Enter Sandman....Metallica

Severus Snape, former Deatheater...current turncoat and spy for the side of good, sat appalled at the sight of his sniveling student in front of him. He had worked hard to reach a point in his life where the atrocities that he bears witness to, almost daily, had little if any affect on him. He'd be damned if he would start now.

Having been yanked down unexpectedly, Snape re-situated himself so that he was sitting, crouching really...ready to spring upwards if the need warranted it with his elbows propped on his bent knees. Still adorned in his Deatheater robes and mask, he waited silently as he eyed Miss Granger, noting when her rocking, heaving motions began to settle down. She smelled awful, covered in vomit as she was...he wrinkled his nose at the pungent odor that wafted towards him. Reaching into his robes he withdrew a handkerchief, along with his wand...covering his nose, he cast a cleansing charm over her, removing most of the foul mess from her person. Unfortunately a cleansing charm is not as effective as actually taking a bath, he noted, wincing with disgust at the remnants of filth that remained. On the other hand the odor had decreased sufficiently for him to remove the handkerchief from his face. Putting the handkerchief back in his pocket his nostrils flared reflexively as though trying to expel any lingering stench.

Glancing about warily, Severus stood up yanking Hermione to her feet as he growled, "Let's go." He knew the forest well enough to know not to linger too long in any one place, unless he wanted to remain a permanent occupant of its haunted boughs. The Forest of the Dead was aptly named, luring innocents into its domain and lulling them to complacency by day; by night the forest re-arranged itself confusing weary travelers to wander forever lost and be feasted upon by its inhabitants. A clever defense charm created by one of his ancestors to keep interlopers at bay. Pulling her closer to him, he trudged onward keeping himself alert to the slightest noise.

Grief in many ways acted upon the soul like the "Imperious" curse worked on the mind. Numb and filled with shame, Hermione followed her professor without resistance. Barely able to acknowledge anything more than his movement next to her as she struggled with the ache of loneliness that was threatening to consume her. Her eyes burned from a host of yet unshed tears that she was unable to unleash.

Listlessly she followed her professor for what seemed like eons, time seemingly had stood still. Soon she found herself picking her way through a grove of trees that had begun to thin, allowing b of of moonlight to slice through like cool daggers. Clutching her gown tighter, she pulled her arms across her front as she shivered from a feeling unconnected to the chill in the air. With a backwards glance, Hermione stumbled in her professor's wake as they exited the forest, she desperately searched the barren patch of trees as she shook off the feeling of someone's cold fingers that she had felt run down her back.

After coursing through a bracken strewn forest the cool soft grass that gre her her feet sent a shock through her system. Passing out of the trees, they had entered a magnificent park dotted with marble sculptures that loomed up out of the darkness. Hermione tried to study the figures in passing, but found that elegant bodies were each topped with distorted heads or not topped at all. Disturbed by such ghastly sights, she wondered what could have caused such hideous disfiguration. She turned her head from one side to the other as she continued to follow Professor Snape. Her professor wound a path through the cultivated garden of marble and bush gracefully, the slight crunch of gravel the only indication of his passage.

Soon they had crossed the expansive garden, coming to a halt in front of a enormous iron portcullis. Stepping back Hermione glanced up in awe. The gate stood at least fifty feet high set within obsidian stones that shimmered in the moonlight. To either side of the opening, the wall ran seamlessly with the earth as though it was a part of it. Waiting next to her teacher, Hermione watched as with a wave of his hand the giant gate rose silently.

Without waiting for her, Severus entered through the gaping arch headed for the great double doors offering entrance to a castle, that of which would make Hogwarts look like a guest cottage. Made of the same shimmering obsidian stone, the castle arced and twisted in a multitude of turreted towers and arches. For the first time during the night, he began to relax as he removed the mask that he still wore. Reaching inside of his robes he withdrew a crystal flask (shaped like a balloon with a wide mouth), he poured the essence of his vizard, secreting it away once again inside his robes.

Snapping his fingers once brought forth a series of pops. Clad in simple black linen pillowcases each monogrammed with a silver SS, Severus summoned his house elves. Severus instructed them curtly, "I will be having company. Prepare the Red Suite...we will dine at the usual hour in the parlor. That is all." With a crack like lightning, the elves were gone, leaving their master to study his now trembling charge.

Hermione stood fascinated in the middle of what appeared to be an entrance hall. In circular fashion the walls curved around and up into the pitch blackness that hovered overhead. Shimmering pearlescent shapes drifted through the inky shadows above her, indicating that this castle too was haunted like Hogwarts. Unlike Hogwart's ghosts, she worried that these bodiless entities were not of the friendly sort. The floor, mercurial in appearance, swirled where her feet touched it giving her the sensation of walking on water. Returning her gaze back to her professor, she barely glimpsed a crystal globe filled with a swirling iridescent black substance before it was hidden amongst the folds of his robes. Raising her eyes to his pale face, with belated clarity she realized that he had removed his disguise, giving her full view of the harsh lines and cold demeanor she had been hitherto shielded from. She finally understood what Harry felt. Harry Potter, a.k.a. The Boy Who Lived, The Savior of the Wizarding World and the recipient of Snape's least favourite student award, for reason's known only to Snape had received the brunt of his wrath throughout Harry's and Hermione's six years at Hogwarts. Standing there in her torn nightgown, Hermione felt none-the-less naked under her Potions professor's scrutiny.

Severus eyed her with disdain. Her nightdress barely covered her, having been ripped by the many brambles they had passed through and damp from the night air, left very little hidden to the conscious observer. Unconsciously, images of what he could do the silky smooth skin that peeked from the many tears, passed through his mind. Sneering at her (more-so at his own thoughts) he turned away from her, motioning for Hermione to follow.

Deeper into the main Hall, a door inlaid with ivory swung open when Snape reached it. Passing over the threshold, he had to stop when a popping sound preceded an elf's arrival in front of him. He scowled at the trembling elf standing before him. "Notty...placement!" he hissed, "I do not enjoy having you pop in nearly on top of me!"

"I's sorry master, Notty will remember." Notty the house elf bowed humbly as he said this. Without standing up again, Notty spoke in a hushed voice, "Master Snape sir, the Lady's room is ready, sir. Notty has provided garments as you have ordered as well." The elf bowed even lower, if possible, than before...his nose bending against the ground as he waited to be dismissed.

"Very well, off with you." Severus replied curtly with a wave of his hand.

Returning his attention back to Miss Granger, he found her slouched against the wall looking worse for wear. Taking her arm, he pulled her up off the wall causing her to stumble against him. He held her slight form up as he supported her, with one arm wrapped around her waist and the other tucked close still gripping her arm, he cradled her against his body. Her head had fallen forward against his chest triggering his darker cravings, cravings he had denied himself in atonement for past deeds. His grip tightened momentarily in response to his traitorous thoughts, before taking his hand from her arm to reach under Hermione's rear, he hoisted her up over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. He shifted her carefully as he turned towards the Grand stairway, trying to ignore the battle of voices raging in his mind.

Mmmmm....a delectable treat, the first voice echoed sounding much like Voldemort's. Ah, but she is a child still, the other replied in Dumbledore's familiar tone. Not so much a child as a young woman...alone in the world. The Voldemort voice rejoined. Alone in the world...yes...you must see to it that she is protected. Sagely the Dumbledore voice responded emphatically. Protected? Of course you can protect her, make her yours...then no one would harm her. Who would be fool enough to cross you...She could be yours.... Voldemort's hiss trailed off as Severus reached the landing of the third floor.

He had carried her up two flights of stairs and down various passages. Paintings of his forbears eyeing him suspiciously as he passed. Finally reaching a painting of a Chinese red dragon he stopped and murmured the password, "Red worm," waiting as the painting shifted to reveal access to a suite of burgundy red rooms. Crossing over the entryway, Severus made for the ebony four poster, thankful that the house elves had turned down the red damask coverlet.

With his hand supporting her upper body, he gently laid her down amongst the goose down pillows. Gazing down at her he fought the urge to do as the "voice of Voldemort" tempted him to do. Reaching for the coverlet and bringing it up to cover her like a shield, his fingers trailed over her now covered body as if of their own volition. Severus felt the covers shift, he snapped his hand back as if it was burned, looking sharply towards Hermione's face to see if she had awoken. He was relieved to see that she had merely shifted and turned to her side, mumbling incoherently as she gripped her pillow. Curling his hands in his own robes he pulled them closed as he turned, eyes hooded with contempt, he exited the suite.

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, I am really surprised and pleased that you are enjoying this so far.
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Enter Sandman