Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Forbidden Rapture	By : Marionne25 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 49897 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am not making money from this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Author's Notes:
OMG THIS IS GOING TO BE A LONG ONE.
First off, I absolutely did not mean to abandon this story for like what - 5 months or so. I'm really, really sorry. The month of June and July had been horrible and August till October were just such whirlwinds across my paths. I was absolutely in a haze and craziness of life of work, family stuff and academics that I felt were going down the drain.
  I had hard time adjusting for the past few months and had tried to distract myself doing other things than my usual music and just writing. I went through a sort of depression for some weeks and months or so that's why it took me so long to get back up into this life.
  I had my pages and chapters but I didn't have the energy and will to just write 'em up and my editor - OracleObscured - and I - have both been drained by this thing called life. Haha.

  I'm okay now and hopefully I will not abandon by fic for that long anymore. More chapters are up.
THANK YOU FOR KEEPING UP WITH THIS STORY AND FOR ALL THE REVIEWS. SPECIAL MENTION TO THE LAST PERSON WHO REVIEWED THIS FIC - I THINK THAT'S THE KICK THAT MADE ME GO AND REALLY WANT TO CONTINUE THIS STORY AND THAT I MUST NOT ABANDON THIS. THANK YOU, REALLY.
  To all my other readers, THANK YOU. Here's a new chapter for you guys. Hopefully this chapter will help you understand more of what's happening and what has happened in the past. Yes, memoirs are all over the chapter so read on. Don'cha worry every 'past' or 'memories' have been italicized as usual so you won't have a damn headache following through.
Until next week my beloved readers!!!

xx

Chapter VI
The Island of Beltane

“Do you mean, Mr. Snape, that you admit to this courtroom that after healing Miss Granger that night that you still refused to release her?”
There was long silence before Snape answered, “Yes.”
“You refused to give her back to her family and friends?”
“Yes.”
There were strong reactions from the crowd, and the attendee’s eyes went wide at the confession.
When Hermione made a small movement, Harry grasped her wrist to still her.
Hermione looked at Harry with a woeful expression. She had been warned twice already since the hearing began to remain quiet or she would be sent out. She had twice interrupted the interrogation of the Potions master, and the Wizengamot was losing patience with her.
“Harry, they have to understand that—“
“Do you think they’re going to let you stay if you make another move?” he whispered.
Hermione didn’t say anything. She shifted back in her seat, and Harry released her wrist.
They watched as the attendee continued his interrogation.
“Why would you do that? Why would you keep her when you knew they would be looking for her?”
Snape didn’t answer immediately. His head was down as if processing his thoughts.
“Mr. Snape, I asked you a question.”
“Please don’t do this,” Hermione desperately thought as she crept to the edge of her seat.
“Because I wanted her,” Snape’s said clearly. “I wanted to keep her.”
Another round of murmurs rippled through the room, and Harry made a sudden movement in his chair. Hermione turned to him and saw that his knuckles were shaking over his knees. “Harry?”
“I’m fine.”
She knew he wasn’t. Looking away, her eyes fell across the room. From where they sat, she saw that Draco was in the front row at the opposite side. He was staring intently at his godfather as if scrutinizing his answers.
“And your intentions, Mr. Snape?” asked the attendee. “What were your intentions for keeping Miss Granger?”
“Why do you think a man would keep such a beautiful, and young, lady under his wing for ten years?”
The crowd went wild, pointing angrily and cursing at Snape.
“SILENCE!” yelled one of the members from the front row of the Wizengamot.
The attendee stared back at Snape, whose black eyes unblinkingly observed him as if daring him to answer the question.
Harry leapt up, his wand out and at the ready.
“Harry, no!” Hermione cried, grabbing him by the arm.
“I’m going to kill him,” Harry muttered as Hermione struggled to keep him in his seat. “I’m going to kill that bloody bastard.”
“Harry, they’re going to throw us out if you do something. Please sit down.”
Harry stared back at her. He knew that compassion in her eyes wasn’t for him. He slowly lowered his wand and returned to his seat, hatred burning inside him.
“Harry.”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Harry snapped as he straightened his robes.
Some people were staring at them, and Hermione was still worried about the wand in his shaking hand. She could tell that he was in no place to accept what she had to say, so she kept silent. Hermione saw Draco across the room, and they caught one another’s gaze. There was a grave look on his face that she couldn’t quite identify.
The crowd calmed and the attendee resumed his questioning.
“Mr. Severus Snape, do you know that what you have done is considered abduction? Forcing her to stay with you when it was clearly inappropriate is called kidnapping.”
“I’m aware,” Snape simply answered. “I assure you that I regret none of my actions; if anything, I enjoyed them thoroughly.”
“I’m going to murder you!” Harry yelled, leaping out of his seat.
“No, Harry!” Hermione screamed, pulling him back down.
There was a commotion amongst the crowd because of Snape’s answer.
“Harry, please.”
“NO!” Harry spat at her. “He’s admitting what he did to you. Did you not hear? Are you deaf?”
His fury was beyond anything Hermione could imagine. He was shaking in anger and on the verge of cursing Snape from where they sat.
“No, these circumstances are—“ she started.
“Hermione, did you not hear what he said?”
“I heard what he said!” Hermione shouted. “I’ve heard everything that he’s said, but—“
“But what?” Harry growled, pulling his arm away from her. “What?”
“They don’t understand. You don’t—“
“I don’t understand?” Harry finished with mocking in his voice. He shook his head and scooted away from her. “And later when they question you, are you going to ignore all the evidence and tell them that he was trying to protect you all those years?”
“Harry, calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” He knew they were drawing too much attention.
“Harry, please, you don’t need to—“
“No!” Harry yelled at her. “We’re going to talk outside, and we’re going to talk about what you’re going to say later when they question you.”
Harry grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of their seats. Hermione struggled in his grip, but he ignored her. “Harry, you’re hurting me. Please, Harry, don’t do this. I’m going to tell them the truth.”
“Truth?” Harry asked, rounding on her as they reached the double doors. He looked ready to punch someone.
“Yes.”
“The truth? What truth Hermione? The reality you keep telling everyone? That one he planted in your heart, where he is the almighty protector who—“
“He is!” Hermione wailed at him as people crowded around. “He did protect me, Harry! He protected you and everyone else! I would have been dead by now if it weren't for him. You don’t understand what happened all those years, and I’m only trying to make things right!”
“Things will NEVER be right!” Harry screamed at her, and everyone near them openly stared
“Harry.”
“Things will never be right again, Hermione.” His emerald eyes glinted. He looked murderous, especially with his wand in his hand.
Hermione didn’t say anything. She stood there crying in front of everyone.
“I know he’s the goddamn reason you’re not the Hermione Granger I used to know.”
She could hear how hurt he was, but she was hurting too.
“I don’t know what I’ve done wrong here,” Harry said. “You were gone for a decade—a decade, Hermione!”
Two Ministry officials and an Auror approached and gently warned them both, especially Harry, to quiet, but Harry wouldn’t stop.
“You were nowhere to be found and you have no idea how THAT felt! Ten years! Ten miserable years not knowing where you were—not knowing if you were still alive or if I was ever going to see you—if I was even waiting for anyone at all! I want justice for what he did to you!”
The crowd was silent as they watched the boy-who-lived lose it. Even the Wizengamot were all staring in their direction. The attendee was open-mouthed, standing in front of Snape and staring up at the exit door where the scene was taking place.
“To me, Harry?” Hermione’s said through her tears. “To me? Are you looking for justice for me or for you?”
Harry didn’t answer. He took a step forward, but the Auror behind him held him back. He clutched Harry’s wand arm gently, but he wouldn’t let his wand go.
“You’re being selfish. You want an innocent man sent to Azkaban! You’re only thinking of yourself! I hate you, Harry!”
For a moment, Harry just stared at her. The silence around the room was unnerving. Only Hermione’s crying could be heard.
“Right.” Harry nodded and pocketed his wand.
Hermione realized her mistake. She quickly reached out for him, but Harry backed out of her reach. “No, wait. That’s not what I meant.”
“I think I know what you meant.” Harry said, shoving her hand away. He pushed the Auror aside and walked out without another word.
“Harry!” Hermione screamed several times, but Harry never looked back.

Severus Snape stared at the blank wall before him. The day had been long and the court trial had gone horribly. Not that he expected things to go better since he was really just waiting for the Dementor’s Kiss. A life sentence in Azkaban was not going to happen—his crimes were worth more than that piece of mercy. He was going to die at the hands of the Dementors, and before that, he’d be spending the rest of his days within these four walls—forsaken and left for dead. He was going to die alone. Alone and miserable.
How had it gotten to this point? He couldn't imagine. He had done his best to live a life of solitude. All he ever wanted when he was younger was a life with Lily Evans, and that was taken from him. After school, he thought that being in the Dark Lord’s league of power would bring him a life with her, but he was wrong; and he knew that his choices years ago had been foolish.
He mourned for the death of his best friend and the woman he had deeply loved. And then he’d become a double-spy both for the Dark Lord and Dumbledore. Life had never been easy, and he knew that death was his only escape. But even that mercy was being denied.
He knew he was guilty of many things, and he deserved the Dementor’s kiss, but now things were complicated. He was on trial for the murders he had committed, for being the Dark Lord’s follower, and his abduction—as they called it—of Hermione Jean Granger. But it wasn't that simple—or at least he knew that it wasn’t the whole story. But he had made his decision. He deserved none of her goodness or the gift she had bestowed upon him. He was a bastard, and he did not deserve her—no matter what she said.
Hermione Granger was pure and innocent, and he’d ripped her from the world simply because he was a selfish bastard. But why would she choose a life with him? Was it not punishment enough that he was to die alone? Why would her memories—their memories— still hunt him down? He deserved none of her, and he would learn to live with that until his dying day.

Hermione sat alone in their living room. She stared up at the old clock against the wall and realized that it was already late in the afternoon.
It bothered her greatly, because Snape was still nowhere to be found. Well, it wasn't as if it wasn’t his usual routine.
It had been weeks since the ambush, or at least that’s what her diary claimed. She had created a small notebook to mark the date and keep track of events since there wasn’t any calendar in the cottage and the clock wasn’t really to be trusted.
She wasn’t sure if Snape would like it, but she hoped he wouldn’t see her little notebook.
The war was far from being over; she knew through some of his stories and the newspaper clippings she stole when he wasn’t around. The death toll was too much to bear, and she was unsure if hiding with him was a good idea. But so far, he has taken very good care of her.
She was fed more than three times a day, and the kitchen was open to her liking. The cupboards were always full, and he had bought her nice new clothes and even some books to pass the time. Her other necessities were also provided for. It felt as if she was just taking a holiday.
Once or twice—she’d lost count already—she had asked if she could go and just glimpse her loved ones. He told her the same thing over and over again—that it was unsafe, that he would tell her if there was anything important. He told her that she was safe in the cottage with him and there was no point worrying since there wasn’t really anything she could do.
Hermione had begged to see her parents, even from afar, but his answer was the same. He promised he would immediately tell her or bring her to them if anything happened.
She trusted his judgement. Despite that, she was worried all the time. She kept her mouth shut though and tried to be as docile as possible. But as the days passed, she became impatient.
She knew that he was a good man, and he had proven that by taking care of her. But he had withdrawn all connections to the outside world. She wasn't allowed to send any owl post or Patronus. Nothing. It made her uneasy, at times giving her sleepless nights, but she hoped for the best.
She was well aware that whenever he left, he warded the whole cottage and made sure the grounds were secure. No one could get in. Or out.
She stayed in all day eating and reading. When she was lucky, he would allow her to borrow from his personal library in the laboratory. Some days she’d clean, make them food, and once or twice she washed his traveling cloak and shined his boots. He reminded her that there was no need for her to do such things.
Hermione tried her best to not argue or complain about how her boredom was bordering on insanity. But he didn’t really have time for her when he was in the cottage. He would usually leave early in the morning and arrive late. He would be there, but it felt like he wasn’t there at all.
In one of the first few weeks, she had a tantrum—wanting to know about her friends and family. It was raining and their fight had been a big one. She had tried for the door, and he hexed her ankle, causing her to trip on the carpeted floor. Then he had forced her back to the living room couch.
“First off,” he said as he threw her down and held her in place, anger burning in his eyes, “you are safe here. You are safer here than any of the Order members and any of your loved ones.”
His black eyes glinted as he spoke. It scared her out of her wits, but she nodded vigorously to show she understood.
“Second, you will listen to everything I tell you from this point on if you do not want this scene repeated. Do you understand, Ms. Granger?”
When she didn't answer, he tightened his grip and shook her.
“I’m going to ask you again, do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Y-yes,” Hermione cried, nodding at him and trying to free her arm.
Snape realized that he was hurting her and quickly let go but didn’t drop her gaze.
He didn't want to scare her, and he wished he could take back what he'd just done, but it was too late. She was already crying. He could only take advantage of that fear.
“There will be no going out. No anything. I will be keeping your wand from this day forward and you are not allowed to step out that bloody door. There will be no spying around the cottage. You are to stay within these walls, and believe me I’ll know if you dare defy me.”
“But, Professor, I can’t just—“
“No! You will only do as I say!”
Hermione didn’t understand the frustration and fear in his voice. It was as if her life really did depend on him. She was at his mercy. “But what about Harry? I need to go back.”
“There is no going back there!”
He moved away as if to keep from physically hurting her. Hermione watched as he tried to calm himself.
“You listen to me.” Snape walked back to her and pulled her from the floor then threw her back on the couch. “There is nowhere to go. You are not going out, not anywhere, until this bloody war is over; and right now it is far from being over! You are safe here, do you understand that?”
“But—“
“I do not give a damn if you rot in here!” he spat. “I don’t give a damn if you are dying of boredom. Inside these walls you are protected, and that is where you are staying.”
Hermione didn’t say anything. She continued crying, not caring how he might react to it; she had to let it out. It has been building inside her for days. She wanted to return to the others, but she was stuck with him until the war was over.
She cried on the couch until she heard him move toward her again. She felt a reluctant but gentle hand on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Hermione, I’m sorry.”
Hermione stopped crying for a moment. His apology sounded sincere and it frightened her even more. He sounded scared too.
Without warning, she turned to him and suddenly threw herself at him and cried in his arms.
“I just miss them. I’m worried about them. I want to know where Harry is, Professor. Please save them.”
Her arms dug into him, and Snape was taken aback. It took him a while to speak and move again.
“Don’t cry, please don’t cry,” he said as he gently put his arm around her. He didn’t really know what to do. “I will try and save them.”
Snape’s voice was surprisingly comforting, and his long fingers began stroking her tangled hair.
“I’m going to protect you for as long as I can, but I can’t do that unless you let me. So please, don't make this harder than it already is.”
Hermione didn’t say anything, but she nodded her head as her crying lessened.
“I will do everything in my power to protect you. But you need to give me your word that you’ll do as I say, because it is the only way you'll survive this war. Do you understand me?”
He gently lifted her face and met her gaze. She stared at him, and her eyes told him how scared and helpless she felt.
“Miss Granger, I need your word.”
“I promise you,” Hermione muttered. “I’ll do what you ask of me, Professor.”

“Harry?” Hermione called out when she heard someone enter their living room. She looked up and saw that it was three in the morning.
Harry swayed as he entered the living room. He pointed his wand at the fireplace. It lit and he warmed his hands near the flames.
Hermione quickly rose from the couch where she had fallen sleep with a book. “Harry? Are you hungry?”
He didn’t answer. She knew he was still angry about what had happened at the trial.
“I’m not hungry. Go to sleep,” he finally replied.
She stared at him as he sat by the fireplace. He was obviously drunk. “Oh, Harry.”
“I’m fine. Go to sleep.”
But before he could do anything else, Hermione left the living room and returned with a warm basin of water and a pot of hot tea.
“Here, this will help you.” She offered a warm, damp towel to him.
Harry glared up at her for a moment then took it without a word. She watched as he wiped it around his face and arms.
“Do you want honey with this?” she asked as she poured some tea into a cup.
“I don’t want that. I’m going to sleep.”
“Harry, wait. This will make you feel better,” Hermione called after him, but he already heading for the stairs.
She sighed heavily and stared at the fire then took her wand and doused the flames. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she knew that there was no way Harry was going to feel better about her or about them until she gave him what he wanted. She didn’t really want it, but it felt like she needed to do it. It might even persuade him to change his mind about putting Snape in Azkaban.
“Harry?” she called, going after him.
Harry ignored her, but he heard his door open and close. She lit the small fireplace in his room.
“It’s freezing in here, aren’t you cold?” she asked, standing next to his bed.
He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.
“Harry.” Hermione waited for an answer. “Harry, I know you’re awake. I want to apologize for what happened today, for what I told you.”
“It’s nothing. Forget it. Go to sleep,” Harry said without looking back.
“No, I want you to know that I didn't mean it.”
“I know you didn't mean it,” he said with a sarcastic edge to his voice. “Go to sleep.”
Hermione stared at him, and then slowly she climbed in the bed next to him and placed her arm around his waist.
Harry opened his eyes, but he didn’t move. He felt her slide her hand beneath his and pull him closer to her. The only thing he could hear was the crackling of the fire in the hearth. Hermione remained silent behind him.
“Harry, I love you,” Hermione whispered. “I love you.”
Harry didn’t say anything. He tried his best to keep his feelings controlled. What he felt earlier that day was a pain he could not endure every single time they argued. But at the same time, he knew that he couldn't let her suffer.
“I’m sorry for everything, Harry.”
“No, shhh, Hermione. Stop crying.” Harry turned to her and pulled her into an embrace. He lay there stroking her hair as she cried on him, her arms tightening around his body as if holding on for dear life.
“Harry, I wish I could just turn back time.”
“Just go to sleep, Hermione. You’re tired. We’re both tired. Forget about today. It doesn’t matter.”
“No, I need you to know that I care about you, that I love you.”
Suddenly, she moved closer. She gently grabbed his hand and placed it on her body.
“Hermione, you don’t need to—“
“Harry, do you still love me?”
Harry stared at her. His heart was beating fast, and he could tell that hers was as well. It was a stupid question. “Of course I do,” Harry answered, sitting up on the bed. “Hermione, I love you. I want you to know I’m here, I’m always here. I’m never going to leave you. Please, don’t cry.”
“Yes, I know,” Hermione cried, moving closer to him. “Harry, please just understand me . . . please be patient with me.”
“I love you,” Harry whispered against her lips. “I love you Hermione. I need you to know that.”
“I know you love me.”
“It’s not enough that you know.” He gently pushed her back down the bed and placed himself over her. “I need you to remember.”
Their gazes met. Hermione’s heart was beating extremely fast, but as she gazed up at Harry’s unwavering worry, she closed her eyes and placed her hand around his neck to move him closer. “Remind me, Harry. I need to remember.”
It took him a moment to decide and once he did, Hermione felt his lips capture hers, and his hands began to undress her.

Hermione gasped as she tripped over the grass. It was nearly dawn, and she felt as if she was just going in circles in the forest. She looked back and knew that sooner or later, rain was going to fall again. According to her calendar, it was nowhere near summer yet. How long had it really been? Six months? Seven? Perhaps more.
She heaved herself up again. It was really a bad idea to bring along the cloak she’d found. But an even worse idea was getting caught if she couldn’t find the right pathway out of the forest to get back to the cottage. Where the hell was she?
The moment she managed to slip the Sleeping Draught into his drink the previous night, Hermione thought she was safe. She hadn’t known that getting out would be a whole other problem. Snape was going to kill her for disobeying him.
“I need to see you,” Hermione said, and she took out a small newspaper clipping from the inside of her robes. Her brown eyes watered at the headline: Harry Potter sighted. Violent clash leaves two Death Eaters dead, one in the Ministry’s custody, and the Boy-Who-Lived badly injured.
The newspaper headline had been two weeks ago. It had been three weeks since she’d promised Severus that she wouldn’t disobey him. But he had promised her that he would tell her if something bad happened, and he had not. She only found out about it because she saw this piece of newspaper in the trash bin.
“Damn it,” she cursed, biting her lower lip. She didn’t know where she was and had no idea how to get out. She knew that she was just going farther into the forest, and without a wand, she was doomed. What a great plan this had been.
And then she heard it. Twigs cracking behind her. “Who’s there?” she asked loudly, turning about. Her brown eyes scanned her surroundings.
“Come out! Show yourself—I’m not scared of you!” she called out bravely, although her heart was already palpitating, and her knees were growing weak. “I said, show yourself!” she screamed angrily as the rain came down a little harder. She backed away against a tree and stared around her, waiting for something to come out of the shadows. Nothing appeared.
She closed her eyes and breathed heavily, trying to calm herself. The silence around her was unnerving, only broken by the sounds of the spattering rain. And then she heard it—that cackling laughter that came from a very familiar voice.
Hermione’s brown eyes shot open and her panic rose. She knew that voice too well; there was no mistaking it. Now she was truly screwed. She had broken her promise to Snape, and she was going to die in the most gruesome way possible.
“I told you this is the most insane idea,” came another voice. “This is ridiculous, Bella.”
“No, it’s not. I’ve been observing him for weeks now. He hasn’t been staying at Hogwarts, and he leaves the meetings early. I tailed him once and it led me nowhere. I tried several more times and it led me back here. I told you, that bastard is keeping something from our Dark Lord.”
Hermione backed as far away from the voices as she could. She didn’t know what to do. There was no path or trail behind her, and if she tried to run, she might get even more lost. If she went another way, the two would surely see her, and by the sound of it, Bellatrix Lestrange was just looking for some excuse to murder someone tonight. The conversation suggested they were talking about Snape, and Bellatrix knew that Snape’s loyalties lay elsewhere. What was she going to do now?
“Bella, this is stupid,” Narcissa said as their footsteps halted. “We need to get back. I need to tend to Draco. He’s injured from having to duel with Potter during that last attack.”
“Well, he’s a big boy,” Bellatrix answered with coldness in her voice. “He should be fine. Potter’s in a worse condition according to our contact in the Ministry. Come now, Cissy, this is more important.”
“My family is most important!” Narcissa snapped.
Hermione’s heart was pounding. If they were distracted with their fight, she could might be able to escape. She’d do anything to be back at the cottage.

“May I remind you, Bellatrix, that the only reason your husband remains in the Dark Lord’s good graces is because Severus made the Dark Lord see reason.”
“Sssh!” Bellatrix hissed. “Can’t you hear that? Someone’s out there!”
Hermione, standing in the shadows, could clearly see Bellatrix pointing at the very spot she was hiding.
Hermione’s knees quivered. Bellatrix advanced a few steps while Narcissa remained behind. Hermione could see her hungry black eyes staring curiously into her hiding place as if she already knew.
“Bella.”
“Quiet, Cissy!”
The black-haired Death Eater raised her wand and pointed it directly at the bushes.
“I’m going to count to three,“ Bellatrix whispered in her most devilish voice. “If you don’t come out, I’m going to send in a spell so strong that you’ll never see the light of day ever again. One,” her voice was cold and threatening.
Hermione tried not to move a muscle. She was helpless and hopeless, and she was about to die at the hands of the most sadistic Death Eater she’d ever met. If only she’d listened to Snape.
“Bella,” said Narcissa, and Hermione saw her walk towards Bellatrix. She actually blocked the way, and Bellatrix screamed angrily at her sister.
“Get out of the way, Cissy!”
“No!” Narcissa said, “You're being ridiculous. We need to go now. We’re wasting our time here. So what if Severus visits this place? Does he not have the right to his privacy?”
“There should be no privacy from the Dark Lord!” Bellatrix screamed, and Hermione saw jet of sparks come from her wand.
Narcissa drew her wand. “Let’s go home Bella,” she said reasonably. “This is pointless. If there is anything you need to know, I will tell you; Severus trusts me. And if there was anything, you are the first one I’d tell.”
“You’re close to him,” Bellatrix said, lowering her wand. “You were always soft when it came to Severus.”
“Blood is thicker than water,” Narcissa answered, lowering her own wand. “Please, Bella? If he comes here, perhaps he's just got some memento of that girl he loved.”
“We’re at the very edge of London,” Bellatrix pointed out.
Hermione could tell that Bellatrix had begun walking to the other direction.
“At the very end of the country, Narcissa. What the hell would Severus be doing here? What is so important in this place that he’d bother to Apparate here every day, huh?” she asked in a mocking tone.
Narcissa didn’t answer, but Hermione knew that Bellatrix had lost the argument.
“I’ll figure it out if you’d like,” Narcissa offered. “But leave it to me. Don’t cause a scene. You know how the Dark Lord hates it when there's division among us. And he certainly doesn’t want you dipping into the life of his most loyal servant.”
“Loyal my arse.” Bella looked up at her sister. “If I find one good reason to expose his treachery to the Dark Lord, I will. And I won’t think twice about casting a Killing Curse on him.”
And with that, Hermione heard a crack of Disapparition, but she remained where she was because she only heard one, meaning there was one left.
“I know you’re there,” came Narcissa’s voice, and Hermione almost had a heart-attack. She was staring right into the bushes.
“I know you’re there somewhere. You’re free to come out if you like. I won’t hurt you.”
Hermione stayed where she was. She was unsure if it was a trick or not. Narcissa was still a Black and a Malfoy after all.
“I don’t know why you’re here. I don’t even know what’s going on with Severus. I know you do not trust me, nor do you fully trust Severus.” Her voice faltered for a moment. “I don't know anymore where Severus’ loyalties’ lie,” she whispered softly.
Hermione saw the sadness and hurt in her eyes.
“All I know is that he would die to protect me and my son. Perhaps you know his reasons—perhaps you know him better than I do now.” Her blue eyes leveled up exactly to Hermione’s, as if she knew right where she was.
Narcissa sighed heavily, but Hermione still tried not to move. “If you’re there, and I know that you are,” she began, “listen closely to me. Tell him that the Dark Lord is winning and the war is a lost cause. Wherever his loyalties lie, he should follow the path that will win. People are dying. Stay with him,” her voice commanded softly. “He will protect you the way he is protecting my Draco.” She took another step back, “You are at the ends of Europe.“ She stopped for a moment as if not knowing whether she should continue.“Beltane.”
Hermione’s heart skipped a beat.
“You’re on the island of Beltane. I suppose he brought you here to keep you protected.” She scanned the forest around her.“These grounds are littered with magic, and I think he has chosen this place to protect you, because the grounds are sacred.”
She paused for a moment and Hermione actually considered going out, but then Narcissa’s voice became cold and her expression changed.
“You are safe here,” she repeated. “Do not ever attempt to go back. You will live if you stay with him. There is no more life where the rest of us are. You’re lucky to be protected by him. If only we were given the same luxury.” Her eyes lowered to the ground. “There is a path to your right,” she said as she pointed in the direction. “Thread it back. Walk at least seventeen steps. You will see two more paths. Choose the left one. Walk it straight and it will lead you back.” She gave one last glance in Hermione's direction, “Until we meet again.” And without another word, she turned and Disapparated right before Hermione’s eyes.
“Beltane,” Hermione whispered softly. She tried to think clearly. The Dark Lord was winning, and the Order members were obviously dying in great numbers. She stood frozen with her eyes still fixed where Narcissa had disappeared. “Beltane,” she whispered again. Where had she heard of the place?
A map, she needed a map, she thought.
As she remembered, it was still part of Europe, but as Narcissa had kindly pointed out, it was far from London. Her head spun as she tried to recall where the place was exactly.
The Dark Lord was winning, and Narcissa knew that Severus was not loyal to the Dark Lord. Or was he really not? Bellatrix seemed to be the only one who’d noticed Snape’s disappearances from Hogwarts. And Draco had almost died during their last mission. Surely things were turning out so bad that even Narcissa, wife of the most useful Death Eater, was now desperately trying to save her family with Snape’s help—the only one who seemingly didn’t fear the Dark Lord.
“Beltane,” Hermione muttered as she followed the path Narcissa had pointed out. She finally reached the fork where she was supposed to chose the left path. She looked ahead and from where she stood, she could see the silhouette of their cottage and she could hear the sounds of water again. Narcissa was right, she was on an island.
“Beltane!” she gasped, quickly looking around. She glanced down at the ground, and just before she chose the path, she heard movement behind her. Instinct told her it was neither Bellatrix nor Narcissa. Hermione slowly turned, fear creeping up on her senses again. She took three steps back to the left pathway as she turned and focused on the bushes. Before she could even run or make another move, there, slithering out of the bushes, was an enormous snake hissing dangerously in her direction. Her brown eyes filled with tears as the snake advanced on her. Before she could do anything, it reared up and lunged at her with a whip of its tail and a snap of its fangs. She felt a strong pain run up her leg, and before she fell unconscious, she heard an almost ear-splitting scream cast a spell that sounded like “Sectumsempra!”
The voice was fearful, and she recognized him as he called her name.

“Severus!” Hermione gasped as she bolted upright from the bed. She was panting for breath, and she felt like something was struck on her throat.
“Hermione!” said Harry, who sat up next to her. “Hermione?” he called out, grabbing his wand from beneath his pillows. “Lumos Maximo!”
Harry sat next to Hermione, who was clutching her chest. “Harry!” she whispered, staring at him.
“It’s all right, it’s all right,” he told her. “You’re fine. You’re with me. It’s all right.” He pulled her into his arms and gently massaged her back. “I’m here, I’m here. It’s just a dream. Nobody’s here to harm you.” He couldn’t believe she was still having nightmares after three months.
“Harry, I’m sorry. I didn’t . . .” she whispered, embracing him. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself, telling herself it was just a dream. It was a dream—well, more like a memory.
“Do you want water?” he asked as he slowly broke the embrace.
Hermione didn’t say anything. She continued to stare at Harry as if she was still stuck in her dream.
“I’ll get you water?” he offered again.
Hermione stared at Harry and realized that they hadn’t been this close since she had returned. It had been three months, and it was the first time that she had allowed herself to sleep next to him.
“Y-yes. Water, please.” As Harry left the bedroom, she lifted her nightdress and stared at the scar near her knee where the snake had bitten her years ago. She couldn’t help but cry silently at the memory of Snape. She had lied and tried to escape him, getting herself into a dangerous situation, and yet he had patiently tended to the wound and saved her life. And now, she would do anything just to see him—a glimpse would suffice. She would do anything to see the man who had protected her for a decade, the man who had never left her even after everything she’d done . . .

“Court break?”
Hermione looked toward the familiar voice. The man approached and, even though uninvited, he pulled up a chair across from her at the café table and sat down with a smile.
“I didn’t hear about the first part of the trial. I was at a business meeting earlier,” Draco told her as he signaled the waiter. “Can I get you anything?” he asked.
Hermione shook her head. “I just had breakfast with Harry. He’s back in the courtroom with some Aurors filing some evidence.”
“Is that why you’re alone here?” Draco asked, skimming the menu. He pointed to several things and nodded at the waiter, who left with a smile.
Hermione stared at him and finally nodded. Even though he seemed to be more friendly than she remembered, Hermione still didn’t feel like getting close or talking to Draco. She was unsure of what became of Draco after the war, and she felt uncomfortable at his shifting attitude toward her.
“Draco, listen. I know you’re trying to be friendly and all, but Harry said that—“
“I know what he said,” Draco interrupted. “I know he still doesn’t trust me and doesn’t want me anywhere near you.” Draco’s grey eyes stared to her brown ones. “I’m not an idiot, Hermione,” he told her as the waiter dropped off his coffee. “I know what Potter still thinks of me. But I’m not going to blame him.”
An awkward silence settled between them. She knew that it had been hard for him—losing his mother and having his father in Azkaban.
“I’m still sorry to hear about your mother,” Hermione told him. “I wish there was something I could do to make you feel better, Draco.” Hermione was unsure if these were the right words, because Draco looked at her as if she was mad. But that look only lasted a moment. Before she could comprehend it, his lunch platter came, and he had ordered a nice tall glass of wine for her.
“Compliments from a Malfoy,” he simply said, nodding at the wine glass in front of her. “Don’t worry, that’s not very strong. Just to lighten things up. It seems you’re always tensed in the courtroom as if you’re not breathing.”
“What do you expect?” Hermione said with irritation in her voice. “They’re accusing an innocent man and sentencing him to a fate he doesn’t deserve.”
“He doesn’t deserve?” Draco said with lightness in his tone as he began his lunch. “Are you sure he doesn’t deserve to be in Azkaban?”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed, and all kindness vanished from her face. “It was nice seeing you, Malfoy,” Hermione snapped and then snatched her book from the table as she rose to leave.
Draco grabbed her hand.
“Let me go,” Hermione said, shoving his hand away. They both stared at one another for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” Draco apologized, standing to stop her. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Hermione looked up as he stood in front of her. He reminded her so much of Lucius Malfoy but his grey eyes were a lot kinder than his father’s.
“I’m sorry, Hermione. Please. I didn’t mean it. Please sit down.” He gestured to her seat.
Hermione’s fists clenched, but she slowly sat back down without breaking eye contact.
“He’s innocent,” Hermione said, and Draco returned to his meal. “He’s innocent and you know it.”
Draco observed her. The truth was that he didn’t know the truth at all anymore. “If that’s true then it’ll come out at the trial,” he gently said, reaching out for her hand.
“Yes, but the whole world is against him.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I can't prove it if their evidence says otherwise.” Hermione pulled her hand from his and stared down at the table.
He put down his fork and reached out for her again, but she shook her head.
“He’s innocent, Draco. He’s innocent and he’s going to go to Azkaban because he tried to protect me for ten years.”
“Hermione . . .”
“No,” Hermione cried, “you don’t understand. None of you understand. I’m telling the truth, he’s innocent. And everyone only wants to believe he’s guilty. Because of me!”
She ran from the table without warning, pushing through the café door and disappearing before Draco could say anything.

“How long do you plan on protecting her?” asked the blue-eyed woman in front of him.
He glanced around the café, unsure of how to answer.
“You have no idea,” she answered for him. “You have absolutely no idea how long this is going to go on, do you?”
Snape didn’t answer, and his uncomfortable shifting indicated he was anxious.
“Is she doing well with the weather there?” she asked after a moment of silence.
“She’s coping,” Snape answered as he reached for his coffee. “She’s used to it by now. It’s been what, three or four months? I don’t know, several more weeks or—“
“Nearly seven months, Severus,” she corrected him with a raised brow. “She’s all over the news if you don’t know.” She grabbed something from beneath her seat and handed it across the table. “Clippings from the Daily Prophet since we last saw one another. I’ve collected these and more. I know the paper is hard to come by where you two are staying. Severus . . .” Her expression became grave. “If the war does not end, the Dark Lord will know of this soon. That Potter boy has almost had it. I tell you I know when the Dark Lord is near his glory.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I need you to give me your word that if worse come to worse, you’ll protect my Draco.”
“I’ll protect you and Draco,” he said as he sank back into his chair, moving the packet of clippings closer his side of the table. “I’ve already given you my word.”
“Will you do the same for her? Or are you going to give her back to them?”
Snape acted as if he hadn’t heard her question. Eventually he sighed heavily, and shook his head. “I don’t know what to do with her. I just need to make sure she’s far away and protected. If I could only do the same for the rest.”
Narcissa cleared her throat. “I don’t need to hear this,” she warned him with pursed lips. “I don’t want to hear this side of you and you know why.”
Snape nodded. “I need to go,” he said, taking the package from the table. He began to stand and then pulled a small vial from his pocket and placed it on the table. “I’m finishing the rest. Twice daily—only two drops. This will suffice until I see you again.” And without another word, he turned and left.
Narcissa stared the bottle in her hand, the bluish liquid swimming and glittering inside its glass.
- 6
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Forbidden Rapture