Sweet Mercy - Chapter Thirteen
Summary: Auror Hermione Granger is investigating strange occurrences in the north of Scotland. Her search leads her to the one man she can't trust and the one man she can't solve the case without.
Characters:HG/SS
Warnings: Not beta read
Rating: R
Start at the beginning
Chapter Thirteen
Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: You don't give up.
Anne Lamott
Hermione’s announcement had just the effect she thought it might - all out panic and then shouts for security. A woman to her left fainted out right, caught by a nearby wizard who helped slide her to the floor. People gasped and shouted. Others laughed, thinking it was a joke. And others, thinking the threat was imminent, tried to run.
As best as she could with two legs that didn’t quite cooperate, Hermione ducked behind a pillar and tried to make it to the closest door and out to the hallway.
Unfortunately, the people standing around here had noticed she was the one making the announcement, so when Percy amplified his own voice and called for order and security, they were quick to point her out. Some burly man even tried to tackle her, but a well-placed hex kept him away.
She tried in vain to Apparate, but felt the sickening feeling of her magic being suppressed. They had set the same Anti-Apparition charms here that they had at Hogwarts. She would just have to run and hope no one caught her. She knew her plan was ill-advised at the start, but she was starting to realize how horribly she had miscalculated when someone knocked her to the ground.
Struggling, she tried to get away. When her captor pushed up off of her and ran in the other direction, she realized he had just been a panicked guest and not a security guard. Still, she needed to be cautious if she was going to make it out of here. Casting a Disillusionment Charm over herself to help get away, she got up and pushed her way through the crowd.
“There she is!” she heard someone shout just as she made it out of the main ballroom and into the foyer. She threw a curse back over her shoulder and tried to speed up. Her legs throbbed, but the adrenaline pumping through her system enabled her to ignore it, though she knew she would pay later.
She rounded a corner and suddenly on her right, she spotted a small broom closet. Quickly, she jumped in and pulled the door shut, listening as the security guards shuffled past.
“Must have gone out this way!” she heard them say. A door was nearby, she realized. Her chances at getting away had just improved tenfold. The five minutes she waited to make sure they weren’t coming back were sheer torture, and once again she wished she could just Apparate home to Snape, who could kiss her and tuck her into bed after a hot bath.
Hermione checked to make sure the coast was clear and then made a run for it. The door squeaked terribly when she opened it, but she didn’t wait to see if anyone heard it. It led to a dark alleyway. With her wand still out, she jogged away from the well-lit street, deciding her best strategy was to stay in the shadows. Two seconds into her attempted escape, she ran straight into something or someone rather. The someone grabbed her by the shoulders. She struggled against their grip, but they managed to pull her into a dark nook.
“There you are!” a deep bass voice said. It was Snape, she realized. She stopped wiggling and looked up at him, unable to make out any of his features in the dark. “Do you know you can’t Apparate in or out of this building?”
“Yes, I’ve realized that,” she said exasperated. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer. A shout from down the alleyway alerted them to the arrival of her pursuers. Snape pushed her further into the wall, wrapping his cloak around them both in an attempt to conceal them from prying eyes.
Hermione’s heart beat so loudly she was certain the Aurors would hear it. Clenching her eyes shut, she concentrated on regulating her breathing and the comforting warmth of Snape’s body against hers. Only after the running footsteps faded away in the opposite direction did he step back.
“I’m saving your arse,” he whispered, answering her question. “Once again, I might add.” He didn’t let her protest, but reached into his robes and shoved a potions bottle into her hand.
“What is this?” she asked.
“Your disguise.”
Snape tipped back his own bottle, gagging a bit at the taste. Hermione followed suit and swallowed the foul tasting liquid, instantly recognizing the flavor of Polyjuice Potion.
“Who do I look like?” she asked.
Snape squinted at her, bringing his face very close to hers. “My grocer,” he finally answered.
“And you?”
He mumbled his answer under his breath. “What was that?” she asked again.
“The waitress at the café in town,” he said sourly. “I mixed up the hairs.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her along, ignoring her giggles. “Come along. We have just over an hour before it starts to wear off and we want to be far from here.”
“Hold on,” she said, tugging at his hand. He stopped and shot her an exasperated look. “I hope your grocer doesn’t wear lavender dress robes.”
He gave her a curt nod. Dropping her hand, he took out his wand and pointed it at her. Her robes swirled around her, finally coming to rest in a deep midnight blue color and with a much more masculine cut.
“And now your turn,” she said, performing the same treatment on his habitual black. She realized it was probably cruel to put him in pink robes, but they didn’t have time for him to argue with her. He deserved it after going through her things.
He realized it too, because he only grumbled, “Impertinent girl!” under his breath before moving on. They made it around the corner, out on the street and halfway down the block before they were stopped.
“Oy! You there! Hold it!” A voice yelled at them. Hermione tried to pick up her pace but Snape grabbed her elbow and held her back.
“Wait,” he whispered.
“Yes, officer?” he said in his regular silky baritone.
Hermione elbowed him in the ribs and hissed, “waitress”
He coughed once, glaring at her out of the sides of his eyes. “Yes, officer?” he tried again, this time in a voice substantially higher.
Luckily, for them the guard didn’t seem to notice the disparity. He peered at Hermione and Snape, holding up his lit wand close to their faces. They both stood still under his perusal, the only outward evidence that either one of them was nervous was the way that Hermione gripped Snape’s hand harder and he in return stroked her knuckles with his thumb. Hermione thanked Merlin that she didn’t look anything like the waitress in the café, nor the grocer for that matter.
“You seen anyone running by here quick like?” he finally asked.
“No sir,” Hermione said, lowering her voice as low as she could go. “We left the ball right after that hooligan made the announcement.”
“We don’t believe a word of it,” Snape cut in with his falsetto. “But I wanted to hurry home to check on the children just to be sure. You understand.”
“Sure, sure,” the guard said. “Don’t have any myself but I understand the sentiment. I’ll let you good folks go now.”
“Thank you,” Hermione said. They turned and walked slowly down the street. She could Snape counting under his breath back from 100. It felt like an eternity before he reached zero, but when he did, he pulled her into another alleyway.
“Hold on,” he instructed her. She grabbed his arm and felt the tug and sudden jolt of Apparition. They had escaped.
****
They landed in yet another dark alleyway. The second Severus popped into existence, he dropped Hermione’s hand and reached for his wand, now secured within hot pink robes, and changed them back to normal.
“I should hex you for that,” he said
“It’s only fair after what you did to me earlier,” she retorted.
Severus scowled at her even though he was sure that in the darkened street she couldn’t see the full force of his glare. “What I did earlier? All I did was kiss you.”
She snorted and then stilled. “Why aren’t we back at my flat?” she asked.
“About that…”
“What did you do?” It was more accusation than query and it set Severus’ blood boiling. As if it was his fault that she had gone and gabbed that he was in her flat. As if it was his fault that she dragged him here from his nice cozy home in the first place. And he supposed he was the one that cursed her as well.
He answered with appropriate rage. “Your Auror friends showed up pounding on the door - something about harboring a dangerous criminal. I know I didn’t tell them I had come to stay so that only leaves you,” he hissed.
Hermione took a step back, knocking into the wall behind her. She gasped, one hand coming to her mouth. “Neville,” she whispered.
“I thought you Obliviated him,” Severus said. Surely, she wouldn’t be so trusting, so stupid, so completely idiotic. But of course she could. Wasn’t she with him?
“I Obliviated Percy, but not Neville,” she said. Though it was dark he could tell her eyes filled with tears, he could hear them choking her throat as she went on, “I’m so sorry. I never thought he would tell anyone. Why would he? I mean-“
“Yes, why would he? It’s not as though Death Eaters tortured his parents until they were little more than trained monkeys kept in St. Mungo’s, is it? It’s not as though I didn’t berate him day after day in Potions because he couldn’t manage to brew even the simplest potions correctly. And I certainly didn’t kill his beloved headmaster.”
“Oh, Merlin,” she said, and then chose another few choice curse words.
“Who else did you tell about me?” he demanded.
“No one! Just Percy and Neville and-“
“And who?” He stepped closer, trying to intimidate her with his height and presence. He wanted to scare her, wanted to terrify her into realizing the mess she had put them in.
“I told Abby I had a mysterious dark man back at my flat, but I didn’t mention your name,” Hermione confessed.
“Who is Abby?”
“She’s a friend from the Ministry. She works in-I don’t know where she works.”
“And that doesn’t seem suspicious to you at all?” Severus asked. Hermione shook her head, but there was just enough moonlight for him to detect the slight twitch in her face as she considered the possibilities. “Was she at the ball tonight?”
“Yes,” she whispered. She paused before continuing, this time stronger, “but that doesn’t mean anything. There were a lot of people at the ball tonight.”
“Everyone is a suspect, do you understand me? Everyone.”
“Everyone? Merlin, what are we going to do?” she asked desperately.
“We are going to listen to me from now on. We are going to wait for these ridiculous disguises to disappear and then we are going to visit a business associate of mine. He will harbor us for the night while we decide where we can go.”
“Go? But we need to stay here and-“
Severus grabbed her by the arms and brought her face close to his so she couldn’t possibly miss his meaning. “You’ve almost died once. I will not let you kill yourself over this, do you understand? I will not kill myself over this. There is nothing more to be done here in London.”
She cried out in pain. Severus dropped her immediately and started to apologize when a sharp stab radiated through his gut. The Polyjuice, it was wearing off. A few painful moments later and they looked like Hermione Granger and Severus Snape.
“Ready?” he asked. She nodded, not meeting his eye. “Then let’s go.”
****
Snape led her through the street by the hand. Hermione recognized the dark shops and small doorways as Knockturn Alley, and remembered sneaking down here as a student. It had been thrilling then, to be in a place expressly forbidden and dangerous. Now it just made her tired. She wanted her bed.
They arrived at a door with an interesting knocker, in the shape of a snake. Snape knocked three times in rapid succession, waited two beats and then once more. He shifted from foot to foot in the long minutes afterwards.
“Maybe he’s not home,” Hermione suggested.
“He’s always home,” Snape said sharply. He was still angry with her.
“Always?” she questioned.
“Yes, always,” he snapped. Just then the door creaked open, and Snape looked over at her with a triumphant smirk.
“This had better be good,” a voice squeaked.
“It is,” Severus said, pushing past him and pulling Hermione into a warm front room.
“Snape! What do you want?” a small man with a goatee asked. He closed the door quickly and followed them into the room.
It was a very comfortable looking sitting room with a roaring fire in the grate. Overstuffed chairs sat near by and massive floor to ceiling bookcases covered the walls. Several cauldrons with smoke wafting up from inside them sat on a long table in the corner, and several whizzing instruments whirred on the shelves, stuffed in between the many dusty tomes.
“Quiet!” Snape ordered. “No one can know I am here.”
“You say that every time,” the small man said with a yawn.
“We need a place to stay for the night,” Snape said.
The man just raised his eyebrow and then extended his hand to Hermione. “Since Severus lacks any manners, let me introduce myself, Saren. And you are?”
“Her name is Sally,” Snape said quickly. Both Hermione and Saren glared at him. “Will you give us sanctuary or not?”
“Only because you’re my best brewer,” Saren said. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Sally.” He turned back to Snape. “So this is your damsel in distress. I can see why you were so worried. She’s a little on the thin side but very pretty.”
Hermione frowned. Snape didn’t seem the type to kiss and tell. How did this strange little man know anything about her? And what did he mean by damsel in distress. “I assure you I am no distressed damsel,” she said indignantly.
Snape snorted. But Saren recovered nicely. “Of course not,” he said quickly. “I can see that you probably give Severus here plenty to think about. But please, I am being a horrible host. Have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink?”
“No,” Snape said.
“Just some water, please,” Hermione answered, ignoring the stare Snape shot at her. Saren pulled down a glass from the cupboard and filled it with a spell from his wand. She took it and drank greedily, not realizing until just then how thirsty she had been.
“My son and his family are visiting so I’m afraid space is limited,” Saren told them. “I won’t be able to offer you separate rooms.”
He kept his gaze focused on Hermione as he said this, watching her reaction. She nodded reluctantly. Snape hadn’t given this so-called friend her real name. She doubted he wanted him to know the status of their current relationship. Hermione wasn’t sure she knew the status of it herself. But she did know she would rather have Snape next to her through the night if they were going to be in a strange place.
“Whatever you have will be greatly appreciated,” she said. “We can make due if we must.”
Saren raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Snape. Snape just returned the look coolly. “Well, then,” their host said, standing. “Let’s get you settled in. You look exhausted.”
****
“We have all the ingredients and yet still no one to brew the potion,” he said impatiently. Why did he always have to deal with such incompetent people?
“I located them in London but they’ve slipped through our fingers again. There’s no telling where they’ve gone,” his servant told him. He picked up his glass from his recently finished dinner and threw it at her. She ducked, and the glass shattered on the rock wall behind her.
“Find him!” he yelled. “I don’t care how, just find him!”
“Yes, my lord, but surely you understand that I will need-“
“You can cast an Imperius Curse, can you not?” he asked, lowering his voice to a hiss. She shuddered in reaction, knowing he was much more dangerous like this compared to his yelling.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Then do it. Find him and bring him back here to me. Your own life depends on it.”
She hurried away from the cave.
****
“Really, Snape, you couldn’t come up with a better name than Sally?” Hermione asked once Saren left them in the small room he had showed them to upstairs. Severus didn’t point out that she was back to calling him Snape again rather than by his first name.
“It was the first thing that popped into my head. I’m sorry it isn’t as exotic as Esmerelda,” he said, smirking as she blushed at the reference to her silly romance novel.
“Yes, well that would make you a Black then, wouldn’t it?” she quipped.
“Absolutely not!” How dare she even bring that dog up?
“I suppose Sally and Severus does have a nice ring to it,” she said, making her way to the vanity in the corner. She sat down and frowned at the image reflected back at her in the mirror. He didn’t know what the problem was. She looked lovely to him. Even more so with her hair a little rumpled and her cheeks still rosy from the night’s exertions. Might he convince her to engage in some more exciting adventures?
She reached up and began to work the many pins holding up her massive mane of hair. “We won’t know if tonight was any success at all until we see the papers tomorrow. Though if the Daily Prophet continues on as it has in the past, all we’ll read about is the interruption of a peaceful event with no mention of what I actually said.”
“More likely they will mention it but issue a Ministry supported statement to the contrary,” Severus answered, amazed he could form a full sentence when his mind fixed itself so readily on the reflection of her magnificent chest that heaved as she attempted to reach a particularly difficult pin.
“Here, let me help you,” he said, stopping her hand with his. Her arms returned to her side, and she let him lead her to the small vanity in the corner of the room. She sat on the stool while he stood behind her, working out the small bobby pins from her mass of hair. She rattled on as he worked, but his concentration could hardly focus on both her words and her curls.
“Have you ever considered an Accio Charm to remove these?” he asked as he struggled with a particularly tough one. She frowned at being interrupted.
“Only if you want to rip out my hair in the process,” she said.
“No, I wouldn’t want to do that,” he murmured, fingering a lock. He was fascinated by the way it wrapped itself around his finger almost as though it had a mind of its own. His own hair hung so limply in contrast. She reached up and maneuvered the pin out of place. Handing it to him, she smiled. It was a precocious smile, an inviting smile. She cocked an eyebrow in an impression of him that clearly asked him to get on with it and he willingly obliged.
“I just don’t know what to do,” she said, the corners of her mouth turning down in a frown. “No one will listen. And now the Ministry is after me. I think the Dark Lord has someone in his pocket.” Finishing with the rest of the pins, he handed her each one, their fingers brushing against each other.
“It would explain a lot.” He thought of her friend Abby and the incompetent Neville. One of them had given her up as a criminal, though it hardly mattered now which, with other more pressing matters to pursue.
“But how do I make people listen. How do I make them understand?” she said desperately, twisting in her seat to look back at him.
“You can’t make them do anything. People prefer to live ignorantly and so will ignore all the warning signs until it’s almost too late.” It was a lesson Dumbledore had taught him long ago. One couldn’t control their circumstances or the people around them, but they could control the way they reacted to them.
She turned back around and he could see in the mirror that his words gave little comfort. “Perhaps you should follow your friend Potter’s example,” he said wryly, plucking the last of the pins out of place. The last strand of hair freed, he massaged her scalp. She sat, contemplating his statement for a moment, her bottom lip caught in her teeth. And then without any warning, she turned and threw herself in his arms. Severus stumbled back a bit.
“That’s a perfect idea!” she squealed.
“Running away to the Caribbean?” He had only been joking. But the more he thought on it, the more it appealed to him.
“No, no-“ she waved her hand in dismissal-“People will listen to Harry Potter. If he were to tell people that Lord Vol-sorry the Dark Lord has returned then people would listen. They would have to.”
“They don’t have to,” he grumbled.
“But they would. They loved him. Love him still,” she chattered on. Severus felt the same tightening in his chest that he always felt when Potter, be it James or Harry, was being discussed. He thought he had rid himself of Potter by sending him far far away. The last thing he wanted to do now was to go after him.
“We can leave tomorrow,” Hermione said. Severus dropped his arms from around her waist and took a step back. She nearly fell off the stool she knelt on, but caught herself at the last second.
“It’s perfect. We can’t stay here. They’ll be looking for us.” Frowning at him, she reached for his hand. He let her take it.
“They’ll be looking for you,” he spat, though it wasn’t entirely true. The Ministry wanted him much more than they wanted Hermione.
“Okay, they’ll be looking for me. But where will you go? You can’t stay here, and you can’t go home.”
“France, Russia, Canada,” he listed.
“I need you,” she whined, tugging at his hand. He moved closer but kept his hands at his sides.
“Whatever for?” His eyes strayed to her lips, her beautiful full lips that were as red as a rose with lipstick. He pulled his gaze away. He couldn’t kiss her now. To kiss her now would be giving in, and he certainly wasn’t doing that. But her expression told him that she had seen his moment of weakness, and she would be using it to her advantage.
“You’re the only one who knows where Harry is. I need your help finding him.” Her arms slid up his chest and around his neck, her fingers scratching at the base of his scalp. Her face came ever closer. He didn’t move to invite her, but neither did he pull away.
“I assume you can read a map,” he said sarcastically.
She leaned in, her mouth at his ear. “I need you for moral support,” she whispered. Her breath tickled his skin and he felt his arms wrap themselves around her on their own accord. Traitorous arms!
She pulled back painfully slow, her soft skin caressing his. “I want you,” she added, kissing the corner of his mouth.
“Is that so?” he rasped, barely able to breathe. He would follow her to the ends of the world, wherever she wanted to go, if he could have her here and now on this vanity. She nodded and kissed him. His arms pulled her closer, and he cursed the layers of clothing between them. Impatiently, he continued to kiss her as his hands pushed aside the thin straps of her underdress. He pressed kisses to her shoulder and across her collarbone, dipping his tongue into the small crevice there, and then moving lower. Her short intake of breath only encouraged him.
He didn’t hear the knock at the door until it was too late. It opened and Saren popped his head around the door, trying his best to look sheepish but failing. Severus see his delight by the sparkle in his eyes.
“Oh, hope I haven’t interrupted anything,” he said.
“No, nothing,” Severus said, sarcasm and bitterness dripping from every syllable. Hermione cheeks reddened and she buried her face in his chest. He rubbed her back in an effort to soothe away the embarrassment at being caught.
“Oh, good,” Saren answered. Apparently, he took Severus’ lack of open hostility as an invitation to come in. “I brought you some towels for the shower. I don’t think there are any in there. The room is alright, I presume?”
“The room is fine,” Severus ground out. Where did the days go where he lived in perfect solitude and obscurity? The days where no one cared what Severus Snape did because he never did anything exciting. Hermione stirred in his arms, reminding him that those days had left the moment he had set eyes on her lying in the forest.
“The room is lovely,” she said, looking more collected. She climbed down off the stool, her hand at her breast to keep her dress from sliding off, and took the towels from Saren’s outstretched hand. “And thank you for these. I do need to take a shower tonight. It was very thoughtful of you to bring them.”
“Yes, very thoughtful,” Severus said with a sneer. She turned and frowned at him.
“I’ll just go and shower now,” she said, looking at him pointedly. “And let you two talk.” Clutching the towels to her chest, she walked towards the bathroom. Severus stopped her with his hand on her shoulder.
“Lock the door,” he leaned down and whispered. “There are suspicious creatures about.”
“Including you?” she asked with a cheeky grin.
“Especially me,” he said, pushing her towards the door. She turned and smiled at him again before the door closed. Saren clearing his throat reminded him that they weren’t alone, and indeed why Hermione was in the bathroom and not in the bed with him.
“What do you want, you nosy twit?” he hissed, rounding about on Saren.
“My, my, Severus. It’s a wonder you’re not invited into more homes with the gratitude you show your hosts,” Saren admonished, clucking like a hen. “Is she worth it?”
“Worth what?”
“The danger. Or is that part of the attraction?” He walked closer. He looked as Severus as he might one of his rarer potions, as though he were discerning if it were genuine or not. “She brings excitement and adventure into your boring existence again. It must have been hard to play the spy all those years and then to go to living like a hermit, an outcast.”
Severus clenched his fists, digging his short fingernails into the skin to keep from punching the older man out. How dare he talk to him like that! How dare he be so right!
“I wouldn’t know. You interrupted my chance to find out.”
“There will be more. She had a hungry look in her eye. Come downstairs and share a drink with me. I have questions for you.” Severus looked back at the door leading to the bathroom, contemplating how long Hermione would be and then back to Saren. He should have time for a quick drink and still be able to get back upstairs in time to help her ‘dry off.’ He followed the shorter man down the stairs. Saren ushered him back into the sitting room. Severus sat in the armchair nearest the fire.
“Who are you running from?” Saren asked, bringing him a brandy. Severus sniffed it. There didn’t seem to be any poisons, but one couldn’t be too sure.
“To adventure.” Saren said. Severus raised his glass, barely disguising his snort as a cough, and waited for Saren to drink for his before following suit.
“Always careful,” Saren observed.
“I have to be,” Severus grumbled, the alcohol burning the back of his throat.
“But you didn’t answer my question. Who are you running from?”
“We don’t know,” he said glumly, tipping back some more brandy. They had an idea, but Severus wasn’t sure it was a good idea to share that with Saren. For all they knew he could be connected. He had little scruples with whom he had dealt with in the past. As long as they paid in gold coin, he didn’t mind much where their loyalties had been. Though that had been to Severus’ advantage these last few years.
“You may not know exactly who is after you, but you have an idea of who sent them,” Saren pressed.
Severus sighed. “Lord Voldemort.” It was the first time he had said his name in years, but the fear of it was gone. His head felt a little light and his stomach queasy.
“He’s back?” Saren sat back in his chair, staring at the amber liquid in his glass. Severus noted that he had only taken that first sip. He hadn’t touched his drink since then.
“We’re fairly certain. He’s collecting ingredients for something, a potion maybe. A child was found mutilated, her heart ripped out of her chest. An elderly man went missing. A cow was drained of its blood.” The words just slipped out of his mouth. He couldn’t stop them. This was much more than he had planned on sharing with Saren. It was too dangerous. The other man slammed his glass down on the table, and marched over to the bookshelf.
“What did you put in my drink?” Severus slurred.
Saren waved a dismissive hand at him, flipping through the pages of a gigantic leather bound book. A snake eating its own tail was embossed on the cover and the pages looked like they might crumble away to dust the moment you touched them.
“Just as I suspected,” he said, bringing the book over to his desk and running a finger down the page. His mouth moved as he read the words there silently to himself.
“What did you put in my drink?” Severus asked, louder this time. He stood shakily to his feet, grabbing the arm of the chair to steady himself.
“Just a few drops of Veritaserum. You aren’t the most open man, Severus. I figured you needed a little help.”
“I’ll kill you!” He reached for his wand. Saren spun around to face him, his wand already drawn and pointed at Severus’ chest.
“No you won’t because I’ve just solved your mystery.”
Go to the next chapter
Comments are love.
Characters:HG/SS
Warnings: Not beta read
Rating: R
Start at the beginning
Chapter Thirteen
Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: You don't give up.
Anne Lamott
Hermione’s announcement had just the effect she thought it might - all out panic and then shouts for security. A woman to her left fainted out right, caught by a nearby wizard who helped slide her to the floor. People gasped and shouted. Others laughed, thinking it was a joke. And others, thinking the threat was imminent, tried to run.
As best as she could with two legs that didn’t quite cooperate, Hermione ducked behind a pillar and tried to make it to the closest door and out to the hallway.
Unfortunately, the people standing around here had noticed she was the one making the announcement, so when Percy amplified his own voice and called for order and security, they were quick to point her out. Some burly man even tried to tackle her, but a well-placed hex kept him away.
She tried in vain to Apparate, but felt the sickening feeling of her magic being suppressed. They had set the same Anti-Apparition charms here that they had at Hogwarts. She would just have to run and hope no one caught her. She knew her plan was ill-advised at the start, but she was starting to realize how horribly she had miscalculated when someone knocked her to the ground.
Struggling, she tried to get away. When her captor pushed up off of her and ran in the other direction, she realized he had just been a panicked guest and not a security guard. Still, she needed to be cautious if she was going to make it out of here. Casting a Disillusionment Charm over herself to help get away, she got up and pushed her way through the crowd.
“There she is!” she heard someone shout just as she made it out of the main ballroom and into the foyer. She threw a curse back over her shoulder and tried to speed up. Her legs throbbed, but the adrenaline pumping through her system enabled her to ignore it, though she knew she would pay later.
She rounded a corner and suddenly on her right, she spotted a small broom closet. Quickly, she jumped in and pulled the door shut, listening as the security guards shuffled past.
“Must have gone out this way!” she heard them say. A door was nearby, she realized. Her chances at getting away had just improved tenfold. The five minutes she waited to make sure they weren’t coming back were sheer torture, and once again she wished she could just Apparate home to Snape, who could kiss her and tuck her into bed after a hot bath.
Hermione checked to make sure the coast was clear and then made a run for it. The door squeaked terribly when she opened it, but she didn’t wait to see if anyone heard it. It led to a dark alleyway. With her wand still out, she jogged away from the well-lit street, deciding her best strategy was to stay in the shadows. Two seconds into her attempted escape, she ran straight into something or someone rather. The someone grabbed her by the shoulders. She struggled against their grip, but they managed to pull her into a dark nook.
“There you are!” a deep bass voice said. It was Snape, she realized. She stopped wiggling and looked up at him, unable to make out any of his features in the dark. “Do you know you can’t Apparate in or out of this building?”
“Yes, I’ve realized that,” she said exasperated. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer. A shout from down the alleyway alerted them to the arrival of her pursuers. Snape pushed her further into the wall, wrapping his cloak around them both in an attempt to conceal them from prying eyes.
Hermione’s heart beat so loudly she was certain the Aurors would hear it. Clenching her eyes shut, she concentrated on regulating her breathing and the comforting warmth of Snape’s body against hers. Only after the running footsteps faded away in the opposite direction did he step back.
“I’m saving your arse,” he whispered, answering her question. “Once again, I might add.” He didn’t let her protest, but reached into his robes and shoved a potions bottle into her hand.
“What is this?” she asked.
“Your disguise.”
Snape tipped back his own bottle, gagging a bit at the taste. Hermione followed suit and swallowed the foul tasting liquid, instantly recognizing the flavor of Polyjuice Potion.
“Who do I look like?” she asked.
Snape squinted at her, bringing his face very close to hers. “My grocer,” he finally answered.
“And you?”
He mumbled his answer under his breath. “What was that?” she asked again.
“The waitress at the café in town,” he said sourly. “I mixed up the hairs.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her along, ignoring her giggles. “Come along. We have just over an hour before it starts to wear off and we want to be far from here.”
“Hold on,” she said, tugging at his hand. He stopped and shot her an exasperated look. “I hope your grocer doesn’t wear lavender dress robes.”
He gave her a curt nod. Dropping her hand, he took out his wand and pointed it at her. Her robes swirled around her, finally coming to rest in a deep midnight blue color and with a much more masculine cut.
“And now your turn,” she said, performing the same treatment on his habitual black. She realized it was probably cruel to put him in pink robes, but they didn’t have time for him to argue with her. He deserved it after going through her things.
He realized it too, because he only grumbled, “Impertinent girl!” under his breath before moving on. They made it around the corner, out on the street and halfway down the block before they were stopped.
“Oy! You there! Hold it!” A voice yelled at them. Hermione tried to pick up her pace but Snape grabbed her elbow and held her back.
“Wait,” he whispered.
“Yes, officer?” he said in his regular silky baritone.
Hermione elbowed him in the ribs and hissed, “waitress”
He coughed once, glaring at her out of the sides of his eyes. “Yes, officer?” he tried again, this time in a voice substantially higher.
Luckily, for them the guard didn’t seem to notice the disparity. He peered at Hermione and Snape, holding up his lit wand close to their faces. They both stood still under his perusal, the only outward evidence that either one of them was nervous was the way that Hermione gripped Snape’s hand harder and he in return stroked her knuckles with his thumb. Hermione thanked Merlin that she didn’t look anything like the waitress in the café, nor the grocer for that matter.
“You seen anyone running by here quick like?” he finally asked.
“No sir,” Hermione said, lowering her voice as low as she could go. “We left the ball right after that hooligan made the announcement.”
“We don’t believe a word of it,” Snape cut in with his falsetto. “But I wanted to hurry home to check on the children just to be sure. You understand.”
“Sure, sure,” the guard said. “Don’t have any myself but I understand the sentiment. I’ll let you good folks go now.”
“Thank you,” Hermione said. They turned and walked slowly down the street. She could Snape counting under his breath back from 100. It felt like an eternity before he reached zero, but when he did, he pulled her into another alleyway.
“Hold on,” he instructed her. She grabbed his arm and felt the tug and sudden jolt of Apparition. They had escaped.
****
They landed in yet another dark alleyway. The second Severus popped into existence, he dropped Hermione’s hand and reached for his wand, now secured within hot pink robes, and changed them back to normal.
“I should hex you for that,” he said
“It’s only fair after what you did to me earlier,” she retorted.
Severus scowled at her even though he was sure that in the darkened street she couldn’t see the full force of his glare. “What I did earlier? All I did was kiss you.”
She snorted and then stilled. “Why aren’t we back at my flat?” she asked.
“About that…”
“What did you do?” It was more accusation than query and it set Severus’ blood boiling. As if it was his fault that she had gone and gabbed that he was in her flat. As if it was his fault that she dragged him here from his nice cozy home in the first place. And he supposed he was the one that cursed her as well.
He answered with appropriate rage. “Your Auror friends showed up pounding on the door - something about harboring a dangerous criminal. I know I didn’t tell them I had come to stay so that only leaves you,” he hissed.
Hermione took a step back, knocking into the wall behind her. She gasped, one hand coming to her mouth. “Neville,” she whispered.
“I thought you Obliviated him,” Severus said. Surely, she wouldn’t be so trusting, so stupid, so completely idiotic. But of course she could. Wasn’t she with him?
“I Obliviated Percy, but not Neville,” she said. Though it was dark he could tell her eyes filled with tears, he could hear them choking her throat as she went on, “I’m so sorry. I never thought he would tell anyone. Why would he? I mean-“
“Yes, why would he? It’s not as though Death Eaters tortured his parents until they were little more than trained monkeys kept in St. Mungo’s, is it? It’s not as though I didn’t berate him day after day in Potions because he couldn’t manage to brew even the simplest potions correctly. And I certainly didn’t kill his beloved headmaster.”
“Oh, Merlin,” she said, and then chose another few choice curse words.
“Who else did you tell about me?” he demanded.
“No one! Just Percy and Neville and-“
“And who?” He stepped closer, trying to intimidate her with his height and presence. He wanted to scare her, wanted to terrify her into realizing the mess she had put them in.
“I told Abby I had a mysterious dark man back at my flat, but I didn’t mention your name,” Hermione confessed.
“Who is Abby?”
“She’s a friend from the Ministry. She works in-I don’t know where she works.”
“And that doesn’t seem suspicious to you at all?” Severus asked. Hermione shook her head, but there was just enough moonlight for him to detect the slight twitch in her face as she considered the possibilities. “Was she at the ball tonight?”
“Yes,” she whispered. She paused before continuing, this time stronger, “but that doesn’t mean anything. There were a lot of people at the ball tonight.”
“Everyone is a suspect, do you understand me? Everyone.”
“Everyone? Merlin, what are we going to do?” she asked desperately.
“We are going to listen to me from now on. We are going to wait for these ridiculous disguises to disappear and then we are going to visit a business associate of mine. He will harbor us for the night while we decide where we can go.”
“Go? But we need to stay here and-“
Severus grabbed her by the arms and brought her face close to his so she couldn’t possibly miss his meaning. “You’ve almost died once. I will not let you kill yourself over this, do you understand? I will not kill myself over this. There is nothing more to be done here in London.”
She cried out in pain. Severus dropped her immediately and started to apologize when a sharp stab radiated through his gut. The Polyjuice, it was wearing off. A few painful moments later and they looked like Hermione Granger and Severus Snape.
“Ready?” he asked. She nodded, not meeting his eye. “Then let’s go.”
****
Snape led her through the street by the hand. Hermione recognized the dark shops and small doorways as Knockturn Alley, and remembered sneaking down here as a student. It had been thrilling then, to be in a place expressly forbidden and dangerous. Now it just made her tired. She wanted her bed.
They arrived at a door with an interesting knocker, in the shape of a snake. Snape knocked three times in rapid succession, waited two beats and then once more. He shifted from foot to foot in the long minutes afterwards.
“Maybe he’s not home,” Hermione suggested.
“He’s always home,” Snape said sharply. He was still angry with her.
“Always?” she questioned.
“Yes, always,” he snapped. Just then the door creaked open, and Snape looked over at her with a triumphant smirk.
“This had better be good,” a voice squeaked.
“It is,” Severus said, pushing past him and pulling Hermione into a warm front room.
“Snape! What do you want?” a small man with a goatee asked. He closed the door quickly and followed them into the room.
It was a very comfortable looking sitting room with a roaring fire in the grate. Overstuffed chairs sat near by and massive floor to ceiling bookcases covered the walls. Several cauldrons with smoke wafting up from inside them sat on a long table in the corner, and several whizzing instruments whirred on the shelves, stuffed in between the many dusty tomes.
“Quiet!” Snape ordered. “No one can know I am here.”
“You say that every time,” the small man said with a yawn.
“We need a place to stay for the night,” Snape said.
The man just raised his eyebrow and then extended his hand to Hermione. “Since Severus lacks any manners, let me introduce myself, Saren. And you are?”
“Her name is Sally,” Snape said quickly. Both Hermione and Saren glared at him. “Will you give us sanctuary or not?”
“Only because you’re my best brewer,” Saren said. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Sally.” He turned back to Snape. “So this is your damsel in distress. I can see why you were so worried. She’s a little on the thin side but very pretty.”
Hermione frowned. Snape didn’t seem the type to kiss and tell. How did this strange little man know anything about her? And what did he mean by damsel in distress. “I assure you I am no distressed damsel,” she said indignantly.
Snape snorted. But Saren recovered nicely. “Of course not,” he said quickly. “I can see that you probably give Severus here plenty to think about. But please, I am being a horrible host. Have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink?”
“No,” Snape said.
“Just some water, please,” Hermione answered, ignoring the stare Snape shot at her. Saren pulled down a glass from the cupboard and filled it with a spell from his wand. She took it and drank greedily, not realizing until just then how thirsty she had been.
“My son and his family are visiting so I’m afraid space is limited,” Saren told them. “I won’t be able to offer you separate rooms.”
He kept his gaze focused on Hermione as he said this, watching her reaction. She nodded reluctantly. Snape hadn’t given this so-called friend her real name. She doubted he wanted him to know the status of their current relationship. Hermione wasn’t sure she knew the status of it herself. But she did know she would rather have Snape next to her through the night if they were going to be in a strange place.
“Whatever you have will be greatly appreciated,” she said. “We can make due if we must.”
Saren raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Snape. Snape just returned the look coolly. “Well, then,” their host said, standing. “Let’s get you settled in. You look exhausted.”
****
“We have all the ingredients and yet still no one to brew the potion,” he said impatiently. Why did he always have to deal with such incompetent people?
“I located them in London but they’ve slipped through our fingers again. There’s no telling where they’ve gone,” his servant told him. He picked up his glass from his recently finished dinner and threw it at her. She ducked, and the glass shattered on the rock wall behind her.
“Find him!” he yelled. “I don’t care how, just find him!”
“Yes, my lord, but surely you understand that I will need-“
“You can cast an Imperius Curse, can you not?” he asked, lowering his voice to a hiss. She shuddered in reaction, knowing he was much more dangerous like this compared to his yelling.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Then do it. Find him and bring him back here to me. Your own life depends on it.”
She hurried away from the cave.
****
“Really, Snape, you couldn’t come up with a better name than Sally?” Hermione asked once Saren left them in the small room he had showed them to upstairs. Severus didn’t point out that she was back to calling him Snape again rather than by his first name.
“It was the first thing that popped into my head. I’m sorry it isn’t as exotic as Esmerelda,” he said, smirking as she blushed at the reference to her silly romance novel.
“Yes, well that would make you a Black then, wouldn’t it?” she quipped.
“Absolutely not!” How dare she even bring that dog up?
“I suppose Sally and Severus does have a nice ring to it,” she said, making her way to the vanity in the corner. She sat down and frowned at the image reflected back at her in the mirror. He didn’t know what the problem was. She looked lovely to him. Even more so with her hair a little rumpled and her cheeks still rosy from the night’s exertions. Might he convince her to engage in some more exciting adventures?
She reached up and began to work the many pins holding up her massive mane of hair. “We won’t know if tonight was any success at all until we see the papers tomorrow. Though if the Daily Prophet continues on as it has in the past, all we’ll read about is the interruption of a peaceful event with no mention of what I actually said.”
“More likely they will mention it but issue a Ministry supported statement to the contrary,” Severus answered, amazed he could form a full sentence when his mind fixed itself so readily on the reflection of her magnificent chest that heaved as she attempted to reach a particularly difficult pin.
“Here, let me help you,” he said, stopping her hand with his. Her arms returned to her side, and she let him lead her to the small vanity in the corner of the room. She sat on the stool while he stood behind her, working out the small bobby pins from her mass of hair. She rattled on as he worked, but his concentration could hardly focus on both her words and her curls.
“Have you ever considered an Accio Charm to remove these?” he asked as he struggled with a particularly tough one. She frowned at being interrupted.
“Only if you want to rip out my hair in the process,” she said.
“No, I wouldn’t want to do that,” he murmured, fingering a lock. He was fascinated by the way it wrapped itself around his finger almost as though it had a mind of its own. His own hair hung so limply in contrast. She reached up and maneuvered the pin out of place. Handing it to him, she smiled. It was a precocious smile, an inviting smile. She cocked an eyebrow in an impression of him that clearly asked him to get on with it and he willingly obliged.
“I just don’t know what to do,” she said, the corners of her mouth turning down in a frown. “No one will listen. And now the Ministry is after me. I think the Dark Lord has someone in his pocket.” Finishing with the rest of the pins, he handed her each one, their fingers brushing against each other.
“It would explain a lot.” He thought of her friend Abby and the incompetent Neville. One of them had given her up as a criminal, though it hardly mattered now which, with other more pressing matters to pursue.
“But how do I make people listen. How do I make them understand?” she said desperately, twisting in her seat to look back at him.
“You can’t make them do anything. People prefer to live ignorantly and so will ignore all the warning signs until it’s almost too late.” It was a lesson Dumbledore had taught him long ago. One couldn’t control their circumstances or the people around them, but they could control the way they reacted to them.
She turned back around and he could see in the mirror that his words gave little comfort. “Perhaps you should follow your friend Potter’s example,” he said wryly, plucking the last of the pins out of place. The last strand of hair freed, he massaged her scalp. She sat, contemplating his statement for a moment, her bottom lip caught in her teeth. And then without any warning, she turned and threw herself in his arms. Severus stumbled back a bit.
“That’s a perfect idea!” she squealed.
“Running away to the Caribbean?” He had only been joking. But the more he thought on it, the more it appealed to him.
“No, no-“ she waved her hand in dismissal-“People will listen to Harry Potter. If he were to tell people that Lord Vol-sorry the Dark Lord has returned then people would listen. They would have to.”
“They don’t have to,” he grumbled.
“But they would. They loved him. Love him still,” she chattered on. Severus felt the same tightening in his chest that he always felt when Potter, be it James or Harry, was being discussed. He thought he had rid himself of Potter by sending him far far away. The last thing he wanted to do now was to go after him.
“We can leave tomorrow,” Hermione said. Severus dropped his arms from around her waist and took a step back. She nearly fell off the stool she knelt on, but caught herself at the last second.
“It’s perfect. We can’t stay here. They’ll be looking for us.” Frowning at him, she reached for his hand. He let her take it.
“They’ll be looking for you,” he spat, though it wasn’t entirely true. The Ministry wanted him much more than they wanted Hermione.
“Okay, they’ll be looking for me. But where will you go? You can’t stay here, and you can’t go home.”
“France, Russia, Canada,” he listed.
“I need you,” she whined, tugging at his hand. He moved closer but kept his hands at his sides.
“Whatever for?” His eyes strayed to her lips, her beautiful full lips that were as red as a rose with lipstick. He pulled his gaze away. He couldn’t kiss her now. To kiss her now would be giving in, and he certainly wasn’t doing that. But her expression told him that she had seen his moment of weakness, and she would be using it to her advantage.
“You’re the only one who knows where Harry is. I need your help finding him.” Her arms slid up his chest and around his neck, her fingers scratching at the base of his scalp. Her face came ever closer. He didn’t move to invite her, but neither did he pull away.
“I assume you can read a map,” he said sarcastically.
She leaned in, her mouth at his ear. “I need you for moral support,” she whispered. Her breath tickled his skin and he felt his arms wrap themselves around her on their own accord. Traitorous arms!
She pulled back painfully slow, her soft skin caressing his. “I want you,” she added, kissing the corner of his mouth.
“Is that so?” he rasped, barely able to breathe. He would follow her to the ends of the world, wherever she wanted to go, if he could have her here and now on this vanity. She nodded and kissed him. His arms pulled her closer, and he cursed the layers of clothing between them. Impatiently, he continued to kiss her as his hands pushed aside the thin straps of her underdress. He pressed kisses to her shoulder and across her collarbone, dipping his tongue into the small crevice there, and then moving lower. Her short intake of breath only encouraged him.
He didn’t hear the knock at the door until it was too late. It opened and Saren popped his head around the door, trying his best to look sheepish but failing. Severus see his delight by the sparkle in his eyes.
“Oh, hope I haven’t interrupted anything,” he said.
“No, nothing,” Severus said, sarcasm and bitterness dripping from every syllable. Hermione cheeks reddened and she buried her face in his chest. He rubbed her back in an effort to soothe away the embarrassment at being caught.
“Oh, good,” Saren answered. Apparently, he took Severus’ lack of open hostility as an invitation to come in. “I brought you some towels for the shower. I don’t think there are any in there. The room is alright, I presume?”
“The room is fine,” Severus ground out. Where did the days go where he lived in perfect solitude and obscurity? The days where no one cared what Severus Snape did because he never did anything exciting. Hermione stirred in his arms, reminding him that those days had left the moment he had set eyes on her lying in the forest.
“The room is lovely,” she said, looking more collected. She climbed down off the stool, her hand at her breast to keep her dress from sliding off, and took the towels from Saren’s outstretched hand. “And thank you for these. I do need to take a shower tonight. It was very thoughtful of you to bring them.”
“Yes, very thoughtful,” Severus said with a sneer. She turned and frowned at him.
“I’ll just go and shower now,” she said, looking at him pointedly. “And let you two talk.” Clutching the towels to her chest, she walked towards the bathroom. Severus stopped her with his hand on her shoulder.
“Lock the door,” he leaned down and whispered. “There are suspicious creatures about.”
“Including you?” she asked with a cheeky grin.
“Especially me,” he said, pushing her towards the door. She turned and smiled at him again before the door closed. Saren clearing his throat reminded him that they weren’t alone, and indeed why Hermione was in the bathroom and not in the bed with him.
“What do you want, you nosy twit?” he hissed, rounding about on Saren.
“My, my, Severus. It’s a wonder you’re not invited into more homes with the gratitude you show your hosts,” Saren admonished, clucking like a hen. “Is she worth it?”
“Worth what?”
“The danger. Or is that part of the attraction?” He walked closer. He looked as Severus as he might one of his rarer potions, as though he were discerning if it were genuine or not. “She brings excitement and adventure into your boring existence again. It must have been hard to play the spy all those years and then to go to living like a hermit, an outcast.”
Severus clenched his fists, digging his short fingernails into the skin to keep from punching the older man out. How dare he talk to him like that! How dare he be so right!
“I wouldn’t know. You interrupted my chance to find out.”
“There will be more. She had a hungry look in her eye. Come downstairs and share a drink with me. I have questions for you.” Severus looked back at the door leading to the bathroom, contemplating how long Hermione would be and then back to Saren. He should have time for a quick drink and still be able to get back upstairs in time to help her ‘dry off.’ He followed the shorter man down the stairs. Saren ushered him back into the sitting room. Severus sat in the armchair nearest the fire.
“Who are you running from?” Saren asked, bringing him a brandy. Severus sniffed it. There didn’t seem to be any poisons, but one couldn’t be too sure.
“To adventure.” Saren said. Severus raised his glass, barely disguising his snort as a cough, and waited for Saren to drink for his before following suit.
“Always careful,” Saren observed.
“I have to be,” Severus grumbled, the alcohol burning the back of his throat.
“But you didn’t answer my question. Who are you running from?”
“We don’t know,” he said glumly, tipping back some more brandy. They had an idea, but Severus wasn’t sure it was a good idea to share that with Saren. For all they knew he could be connected. He had little scruples with whom he had dealt with in the past. As long as they paid in gold coin, he didn’t mind much where their loyalties had been. Though that had been to Severus’ advantage these last few years.
“You may not know exactly who is after you, but you have an idea of who sent them,” Saren pressed.
Severus sighed. “Lord Voldemort.” It was the first time he had said his name in years, but the fear of it was gone. His head felt a little light and his stomach queasy.
“He’s back?” Saren sat back in his chair, staring at the amber liquid in his glass. Severus noted that he had only taken that first sip. He hadn’t touched his drink since then.
“We’re fairly certain. He’s collecting ingredients for something, a potion maybe. A child was found mutilated, her heart ripped out of her chest. An elderly man went missing. A cow was drained of its blood.” The words just slipped out of his mouth. He couldn’t stop them. This was much more than he had planned on sharing with Saren. It was too dangerous. The other man slammed his glass down on the table, and marched over to the bookshelf.
“What did you put in my drink?” Severus slurred.
Saren waved a dismissive hand at him, flipping through the pages of a gigantic leather bound book. A snake eating its own tail was embossed on the cover and the pages looked like they might crumble away to dust the moment you touched them.
“Just as I suspected,” he said, bringing the book over to his desk and running a finger down the page. His mouth moved as he read the words there silently to himself.
“What did you put in my drink?” Severus asked, louder this time. He stood shakily to his feet, grabbing the arm of the chair to steady himself.
“Just a few drops of Veritaserum. You aren’t the most open man, Severus. I figured you needed a little help.”
“I’ll kill you!” He reached for his wand. Saren spun around to face him, his wand already drawn and pointed at Severus’ chest.
“No you won’t because I’ve just solved your mystery.”
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