The Deatheater of the Dungeons
CHAPTER 10
Hermione's life flashed before her eyes.
Her shoes had been stolen by a gang of girls who were jealous of her good grades. She came home barefoot with splinters in her feet.
She was wearing the sorting hat, hoping to prove herself and not wanting to be ignored.
She was sitting at a library table, mirror in hand, staring into cold yellow eyes.
Malfoy had upset her greatly and she had given him a bloody nose to teach him to behave.
Hermione stared defiantly into the face of Cho Chang, who was hiding zit covered, sneak faced Marietta behind her.
Severus Snape had vanished before her eyes. In a burst of rage, she shot a green light at the now dead Lestrange.
Severus was standing before her, a strange look in his eyes, and then...
Corrin Aceldema was leering at her, touching her. Her head screamed. "Severus! SEVERUS!"
Hermione bolted up, shaking and breathing hard. The white walls of the hospital wing shifted into focus. She groaned and looked around.
Her head hurt like hell and her back was on fire, but she didn't feel too bad when she looked at the bed on the other side of the ward. Corrin Aceldema had certainly seen better days.
Madam Pomfrey shuffled into the room. "Oh, Miss Granger, you're awake then. Feeling better, I hope?"
"Yes, a little."
The matron sighed and looked over at her other patient. "All the teenage hormones, I blame that to. Can't see why they're so eager to grow up. Makes them less adult if you ask me."
"What? What do you mean?"
"Oh, of course dear, you don't know, you've been asleep." She paused, eager to have someone to talk to. "As soon as I checked him up," she pointed to Aceldema, "I found he had been under an influence. That's why he attacked you. Rather foolish.."
"Madam Pomfrey," said Hermione, sitting up straight. "I think getting drunk is no excuse for-"
"Oh no, I'm sorry dear. That's not what I meant." She glanced around, as if to see that no one else dare hear this scandalous piece of information. "He had just used a lust potion a couple hours earlier."
Hermione almost laughed. So THAT'S what he missed class for. The anger he was feeling at getting detention didn't mix well with the potion. Then she shuddered as she thought of something else. The potion should have almost completely worn off by then, so really, he had lusted after her enough to do that. The potion just addled his brains.
"I'm so glad you got away from him, though. Nice to see a young witch can keep her own."
"What? Oh- I...yes." She obviously didn't know about Snape yet.
Madam Pomfrey had bustled away, murmuring something to do with "virginity", "teenagers", and "graduation".
Hermione put her head back down on the pillow and started to...
BANG!
The huge double doors at the front of the hospital wing had swung open. Hermione immediately closed her eyes and feigned sleep as Severus Snape strided into the room, in deep conversation with the headmaster.
"If," he said darkly, his voice dripping with fury, "I see Mr. Aceldema anywhere in this school tomorrow, Albus, he will have much worse to deal with than an expulsion and some minor bruises."
These "minor bruises" consisted of a half-healed bloody nose, two black eyes, a sprained wrist, a broken finger, and a large bump on the head. Not to mind the fact that he was in the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey had already healed him up quite a bit.
Dumbledore merely chuckled. "Severus, why don't you get some smelling salts for Poppy? She does seem a little surprised to see you."
Madam Pomfrey had reentered the room and had sunk to the floor with a small gasp.
Severus had been about to head for one of the many medicine cabinets to search for the smelling salts, but promptly changed his mind and laid her on an empty bed.
"She needs a forced holiday, Albus. Damn woman works to bloody hard."
He turned to the bed that Hermione was (supposedly) sleeping in. He stared at her for a moment and then let out a deep chuckle.
He kneeled down to her ear and whispered into it, "Though beautiful, intelligent, and sexy, you were never good at trickery, Hermione." She blushed and opened her eyes.
Apart from the two patients, Madam Pomfrey included, they were the only ones left in the hospital wing.
"Severus?"
"Yes."
"Take me home."
He paused. "Where?"
"Home." She gazed into his eyes. "With you."
And he held her in his arms and walked away into the distant sunset.
THE END
(Now, when I say "walked away", I mean "walked down the hall". When I say "into the distant sunset" I mean "toward the tall wooden doors all the way at the end of the hall. Same thing though, right?)
Now for the Epilogue! What? you didn't thing it was over, did you?
I had originally wanted to put this in a different chapter where she didn't know who he was yet, but I changed it so it would fit here. Cheers!
EPILOGUE
"Hermione?"
"Yes, Severus?" They were sitting on the couch, holding each other in front of the fire.
"Though our wedding was very nice, I forgot to ask you something beforehand."
"Which is?" She turned to face him.
"Favorite poem."
"Ah, yes. Now understand, this did not use to be my favorite poem. It used to be something by Tenneson."
"Something by Tenneson? You don't remember which one it is?"
"I don't have to."
He looked at her, puzzled, and she blushed lightly. "You won't think me hopelessly romantic?"
He smirked at her. "Don't I already?"
She closed her eyes and began to recite:
"Being your slave what should I do but tend,
Upon the hours, and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend;
Nor services to do, till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour,
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour,
When you have bid your servant once adieu;
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
Save, where you are, how happy you make those.
So true a fool is love that in your will,
Though you do anything--"
And she was cut off from her recitation by a deep and passionate kiss that sent shivers down her spine. He embraced her and held her tight, never wanting to let go.
"You must be a silly girl. No woman would love me-"
"As much as I do."
And as they embraced and expressed their love for each other, he had to agree with her.
Shakespear's Sonnet: LVII