The Oath

Chapter 2 ~ The Oath

Severus took a seat in the first row and sat there looking at Hermione as she paced back and forth, her robes billowing while she pinched the bridge of her nose.

Merlin's short hairs. How the hell was she going to deal with this? Severus Snape was one of the most, if not the most, intelligent young wizards at Hogwarts. Even as a youngster he had shown more maturity than other students his age, but this was a bit too much maturity as far as the Potions mistress was concerned. Finally she turned to him.

"Mr. Snape, you are intelligent enough to know that there is no way I would ever 'date' you," she said to the wizard.

Severus blinked at her. Date? He hadn't ever thought about dating her. That would be . . . awkward. Plus he didn't have enough money to take a witch out on the town.

"Yes, Professor. I know that," he replied.

"If you know that, why do you persist in allowing yourself to feel this way?" she snapped at him.

"Because we don't have to date to . . . to . . ." he began, reddening as he tried to tell his teacher they didn't have to date to shag. People did that all the time.

Hermione stared at him, unable to believe what the boy was trying to say.

"Are you saying, Mr. Snape, that you don't want a relationship. Just a tryst?" she asked him, her eyes narrowing.

The nerve of the boy.

"Well, not just one tryst. At least two," he replied honestly. "Although I'd really like as many as I could get."

Hermione stared at the boy. Was he a complete idiot? That's nothing to tell a witch you wanted to woo. As she looked into those dark, honest and rather innocent eyes, she realized that it wasn't idiocy, but honesty he was sharing with her. He had a physical attraction to her. He wasn't in love and instinctively knew the difference. Since he was a young wizard, he didn't know how to play the game and thought that honesty was the best policy to get into a witch's knickers. Oh, Mr. Snape had so much to learn.

"Well, you won't be getting any from me, Mr. Snape. Really, I am twice your age. You aren't a bad-looking wizard, despite that huge honker of a nose. Surely there are witches your own age who find you attractive enough to give you a tumble," she said to him.

Severus sighed.

"I need an older witch. The younger ones are too scared and have . . . have hang-ups. They won't let me do what I want to do," he complained.

Hermione blinked at the boy. What could he possibly want to do other than shag at his age? That's all any young wizard thought about.

"What do you want to do, Mr. Snape? Tie them up? Urinate on them? What?" she asked him, her face twisted.

Severus made a face himself. Urinate on them? Ew.

"No! Nothing like that. I just want to . . . to taste them. Down there," he said, looking a bit embarrassed.

Hermione slumped back against the desk. Oral sex? Severus Snape was a muff diver at seventeen? Or was he eighteen? All right. All right, she could handle this.

"Mr. Snape, have you ever considered just sticking with the basics at first?" she questioned him. "You will be more successful. Maybe afterwards, a witch will consent to be more 'experimental.'"

Severus shook his head.

"They won't let me do that either," he said despairingly. "They're scared."

Hermione stared at the young wizard. Was there some deformation? No, he must mean they were scared to have intercourse for the first time.

"You'll have to bone up on your powers of persuasion, Mr. Snape. Reluctance is natural for a virgin," she said.

"Two of them weren't virgins, Professor. That has nothing to do with it," the boy said, letting out another sigh.

"Are you . . . you . . . er . . . deformed in some way, Mr. Snape?" the witch asked, unable to help her curiosity about this.

"Sometimes I think so," he replied. "They say I'm far too big to shag."

Hermione's brown eyes flicked downward for a moment, though the Gryffindor was seated behind the desk and the view of his lap not visible. Too big? Oh, Circe's Sailors.

"So I thought, maybe an older witch would be more . . . understanding," he continued, looking at her hungrily.

All right. Maybe that made some sense in his universe. Actually, his thinking wasn't far off the mark. He was a good looking young wizard, and a lot of older witches wouldn't mind him for a boy toy. But not her.

"Mr. Snape, I have to ask you this. Why in the world would you focus on me? I have never given you or any male student the slightest inclination that I would welcome such advances. Most run from me as if I were a basilisk," the professor said.

Severus looked at her, his eyes getting a bit glazed.

"I admire you, Professor Granger. You are the most brilliant witch I have ever met. And you're just so . . . so . . . I don't know how to put it. You're like . . . like . . ." he began, stumbling over his words.

"I see why you aren't successful with witches, Mr. Snape. Your ability to explain yourself is dismal," the witch said to him.

Severus scowled.

"I can usually explain myself," he said with a bit of an edge, "but this is different. It's something I want so badly I can't find the words to say how I feel. You're just so unreachable, and I want to be the one to reach you. You're so controlling, and it's like I want to be controlled. You never seem to appreciate anything I do, Professor. Maybe you'd appreciate me that way . . ."

His voice faltered. He sounded like a little wimp.

Hermione stared at the boy. He wanted to be controlled. Good gods. It sounded like he wanted to be her . . . her slave. She had known Severus Snape since he was eleven. He always enjoyed being the first to discover something no one else knew, to solve a puzzle before anyone else. Did he see her as something to be broken open and examined?

"Mr. Snape, what you want is impossible. I am not interested in you in such a way. I'm not interested in any wizard. I live a celibate life by choice. You do know what celibacy is, I'm sure," she said to the young wizard.

"Yes, I know what it is," the Gryffindor replied, "but I don't think you live that way because you want to. I think it's because of what you've gone through. I know you were tortured and mistreated by Voldemort. And you're a witch, so . . . you probably weren't just Crucio'd . . ."

"Shut up!" Hermione suddenly screamed at him, her eyes wild. "Don't try to figure out 'what's wrong' with me. There doesn't have to be anything wrong for me to make a life choice of this nature, you stupid boy!"

Severus just sat there. He didn't look abashed at all. His black eyes were calm, knowing, and for a moment he looked much older than what he was.

"You've been hurt, Professor," he said softly, "and you continue to live with your pain. I might not know much, but I know that much. There has to be a reason you're so cold and cruel to people."

"People are cruel. Thoughtless, thick-headed, cruel and ungrateful," she hissed at him, dark memories returning to her.

"I wouldn't be," Severus said, his voice becoming rich with emotion. "I'd never be cruel to you. There's been enough cruelty . . ."

"Get out!" Hermione suddenly cried, startling the wizard. "Get out of my classroom, Mr. Snape. This entire conversation is over. There will never be anything between us! And if you ever try anything like this again, you'll be very, very sorry! Now get out of here!"

Severus slowly stood up and met the glaring witch's eyes.

"Professor, I still feel the way I feel. You yelling at me isn't going to change that. I like when you yell at me, and I really want . . . I really, really want . . ."

Suddenly, the wizard drew a deep breath, and a look of determination filled his eyes.

"If you won't accept me, then I won't go for anyone else!" he declared in a fit of adolescent emotion. And it was enough to set what happened next in motion.

Hermione's eyes widened with horror as she felt the swirl of magic that announced a wizard oath. Oh gods! No!

Hermione ran up to the wizard and grabbed him by the lapels of his robes, shaking him roughly.

"What did you do, you idiot! You took a wizard oath! Of all the stupid, insane things for you to do! You've just relegated yourself to a life of celibacy!" she hissed at him.

A wizard oath could not be broken until the terms under which it was invoked were met. In this case, that meant Hermione would have to engage him or he would never become sexually involved with any other witch for the rest of his life. The oath wouldn't let him.

Severus looked at her calmly.

"No, I haven't," he replied, "you have. Unless you accept me, Professor Granger."

Shocked, Hermione released the young wizard, staring at him as if it were the first time she'd ever laid eyes on him.

"Why, you little manipulative bastard!" she hissed at him. "You're not going to put this on me! You wicked, evil . . . how can a Gryffindor do something like this?"

"I didn't do it on purpose, Professor, but it's done now. I'll have to live with it if you don't release me," he responded. "I might not be a Slytherin, but I know I have to deal with the consequences of my actions. I have no choice. Good night, Professor."

With that, Severus turned and left the classroom, leaving a stunned Professor Granger behind. Severus Snape might not be a Slytherin, but he certainly had a few Slytherin-like tendencies.

Hermione stood there a good five minutes before slowly gathering her things and heading for her private rooms. She placed the parchments and books on her desk, then walked over to her liquor cabinet and fixed herself a Firewhisky.

A double.

She knocked it back and rasped as the fiery liquid coursed down her throat, then sat down in one of the two armchairs in front of the fireplace and stared into the flames.

What a fucking mess this was.

* * *

"I assure you, Hermione, you are not responsible for this situation, nor are you under any obligation to Mr. Snape. The young man is an adult for all intents and purposes. He has to deal with the consequences of his actions. No one will blame you," Albus Dumbledore said to the witch seated in front of him.

"He's an idiot," she hissed. "A hormone-driven dunderhead. A fool! How could he do this?"

Albus looked at Hermione.

"You don't remember what it was like to be young, Hermione?" he asked her.

"I've never been young," she replied. "I had no childhood. There were no times of blissful ignorance when I didn't know how hard and unfair life was. My father beat it into me by the time I was four."

Albus looked at her sadly. His professor had had such a hard time of it all her life, and still she had worked hard to end Voldemort's madness. Though her reasons had been selfish, she could have shirked her painful duties. But she never had. What she had suffered was horrible.

"There was a time, Hermione, when you . . . loved," he said to her softly.

"He chose her over me. Lily Evans," Hermione hissed, her eyes dark with hatred as she thought about the Muggle-born. She'd been dead nearly eighteen years, and Hermione still hated her. "What good did love do me? All it did was get me a tree on my back and more recurring nightmares than any one person should have to bear."

"Perhaps if you had something else in your life other than your memories of those dark times, Hermione, the dreams wouldn't occur so often. You are always alone, in darkness. You need respite, joy, something that will bring you light. Distraction. Enjoyment," Albus said softly.

Hermione looked at him suddenly, her eyes narrowing.

"You want me to engage that Gryffindor!" she accused the Headmaster.

"No. I would never presume to advise you on such a delicate, personal matter," Albus replied, his blue eyes twinkling annoyingly. "No. Never. If Severus Snape never experiences a woman, never marries and never has children to comfort and care for him in his old age, it will be his fault. Youth is not an excuse when you make stupid mistakes in judgment, is it, Professor?"

"No. It isn't!" Hermione snapped.

"Well then, you can just continue on as you have been with a clear conscience," Albus said. "Once again I tell you, you are not accountable for Mr. Snape's life path. Now, return to the dungeons and your work, Hermione. Thank you for telling me the situation. I am sure it will all work out."

Hermione scowled at the Headmaster, then rose and stalked out of his office. Albus shook his head. As brilliant as the professor was, she was sadly lacking when it came to matters of the heart. She closed herself up tight and wouldn't let anything or anyone in.

She'd been hurt enough.

But what Hermione failed to realize was that in order for wounds to heal, they needed to be allowed to be open, to breathe, to interact with the environment. This went for internal wounds as well.

No, Albus Dumbledore didn't think it would be a terrible thing for Professor Granger to indulge herself with young Severus Snape. He was a brilliant young wizard and could offer her much more than a sheet tangle or two. He was sharp, inquisitive and challenging. He had a mind and loved to use it. That made him very different from other young wizards. It made him . . . suitable.

But again, it was Hermione's decision.

Albus didn't know if the witch would allow the young wizard to live out his life without ever knowing female contact, but he hoped in his heart she wouldn't. He hoped that somewhere inside the witch's damaged psyche there was a place that could feel and empathize. The Potions mistress knew what it was to want someone and not have him. Maybe she would remember what that was like and give the smitten young wizard the closure that she never had.

If she didn't, Severus Snape was doomed to a very lonely existence.

* * *

"You what?" Ron screamed at the pale wizard, his eyes bugging out of his head.

Severus sighed. This was why he brought Ron and Harry into his room to tell them what happened with Professor Granger last night. He knew Ron would blow up.

Even Harry was looking at him as if he had lost his mind.

"I didn't mean to take the oath, but she wouldn't . . . She didn't understand . . . and I was desperate," Severus said to his friend.

"Of course she wouldn't understand, Sev! The only thing that Granger understands is Potions and pain. You would have done better trying to explain yourself to the Grinning Gargoyle. I can't believe this!" Ron said, dropping down on the wizard's bed next to Harry.

"You should have just let her cut it off," Ron continued. "At least there'd be nothing down there to make you want to shag."

"If she doesn't accept him, Ron, it's like she's cut it off anyway," Harry said, looking at Severus, who sighed.

"I don't think she'll let that happen," he said softly.

Ron looked at him incredulously.

"Severus, this is Granger we're talking about. Granger. She is not a normal witch. She has no soft feelings. She's probably delighted that you'll never dip your wick as long as you live," the redhead said.

"I don't intend to back off," Severus said. "I'm going to make sure she's aware of me for the rest of the time I'm at Hogwarts. I have to. Or . . ."

"Or you're going to have very calloused palms covered in thick black hair from wanking off for the rest of your life," Ron said. "You can wank off, can't you?"

"Of course," Severus spat at him. "Don't be stupid. Masturbation isn't considered sex. But then again . . . maybe it is . . . for you. Are you in love with your hand, Ron? Let's see your palms."

Ron scowled and stuck out his hands, wriggling his fingers.

"See. Nothing," he stated.

Severus leaned closer, examining them.

"I see a few hairs. They're just blond," he lied.

"What? Where?" Ron demanded, examining his palms. "I thought that was an old witch's tale."

Harry wanted to laugh, but didn't. Ron wanked off so much it was a wonder he still had a foreskin. It should have been worn away by the constant friction. If his palms ever did grow hair, it would probably be quite long and flowing. Harry smiled at an image of Ron wearing large misshapen leather gloves to hide his secret shame, tendrils of hair sticking out at the wrists.

"Anyway, I'm not giving up," Severus declared. "I'm going to make Professor Granger want me just as badly as I want her."

"One word. Well, two words. Imperio and Obliviate," Ron offered. "Quick and painless . . . if you don't actually look at her while you're shagging her, that is."

Ron shuddered at the thought of it. Gah!

Severus looked at Ron for a moment.

"Get out of my room, Ron," he said, pulling out his wand and removing the wards on his door. "You are never supportive. Ever."

"What do you mean? I am being supportive, Sev. I told you not to say anything to her, but you did . . . and look what happened. The only way you're going to get any pussy now is if you buy a cat from the Magical Menagerie to keep you company."

"OUT!" Severus bellowed at him.

Ron looked at him, hurt.

"Fine. Try to help a bloke out, and this is what you get. The boot," he muttered, then opened the door and left the room.

"He's such an idiot," Severus hissed, sitting down on the bed next to Harry.

"He's Ron, Sev. You know how he is. He overreacts and doesn't think before he speaks. But he means well, you know that. And he'd do anything for you," Harry said to the pale wizard.

Severus sighed.

"I know. I know, Harry, but why does all that loyalty and friendship have to come wrapped in such an annoying package?" he asked the wizard.

"That's just the way it is," Harry replied with a shrug.

There was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Severus called.

"It's Luna. Luna Lovegood," a soft, somewhat spacey voice responded.

Harry and Severus looked at each other, both mouthing "Luna?" before Severus stood up and pulled open the door.

"Luna? What are you doing here?" he asked the witch, his black eyes sweeping over her.

"I wanted to talk to you," she said. Then she noticed Harry.

"Oh, hi, Harry," she said, giving him a little wave.

"Hi, Luna," he said and then said to Severus, "Hey, I'm going to go, all right? I'll talk to you later."

Normally, Harry would have given Severus a little eyebrow waggle at Luna asking to "talk" to him. But there would be no waggling on either Harry's or Severus' part in this case. The wizard was shut down.

"All right. I'll see you later," Severus said, stepping aside as Harry walked through the door.

"Bye, Luna," Harry said to her.

"Bye, Harry," the witch replied.

Luna looked up at Severus.

"Can I come in?" she asked him softly.

"Yes," he said.

Luna wandered in, and Severus closed the door behind her.

The witch turned to him.

"Severus. I've decided I want to do it with you now," she said nonchalantly.

Both of Severus' eyebrows rose.

"What? Now?" he said.

"Yes. I gave Seamus a shag the other day. My first one, and he was awful. When you and I were together, the way you kissed me and touched me was so nice. I didn't feel anything like that with Seamus. He kind of pawed all over me, but I did it because I had been putting it off so long. And it kind of . . . well . . . wasn't enough. Maybe . . . maybe big isn't so bad. I mean, there has to be more to it than what I went through with Seamus," the witch said, starting to unbutton her robes.

Normally, Severus would have jumped at this, despite his desire for Professor Granger. He was a young wizard, not a witch, and wired differently. He saw nothing wrong with wanting to shag more than one witch. But he felt nothing stirring as he looked at her opening her robes. It seemed as if she wore nothing under them.

"Ah, Luna, I can't do it," he said to the witch. "You'd better go."

Luna stopped unbuttoning her robes.

"You're mad at me. I figured you would be since I didn't let you shag me the last time, but I promise I will this time. I don't even have on knickers, Severus," Luna said to him, her wide eyes resting on the wizard.

"I'm not mad. I just can't, Luna. I . . . I have my reasons," he said lamely.

Luna buttoned up her robes again, but didn't look perturbed about it.

"You're mad," she said confidently. "Wizards have their pride. You're punishing me for getting you excited and then not doing anything. It's all right, Severus. You'll get past it. It's childish but . . . there you are."

She wandered back past the wizard and opened the door, turning to him.

"I'll be back, Severus. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day before graduation. Until then . . ."

Luna flashed a rather large, shapely pink-tipped booby at him with a rather naughty smile.

"That's just something to keep in mind. Bye, Sev," she said, leaving.

Severus staggered forward and closed the door, then back to the bed where he fell in face first. Of all times for Luna to finally give in. Shit!

"Why me?" he groaned into the bed sheets, his voice muffled by the mattress.

* * *

The next day, Severus provided the required assignment when he entered the Potions classroom, placing it on the Potions mistress' desk as requested before taking his seat. Then he proceeded to eye his professor, not interacting the way he normally did, allowing the rest of his classmates to address the witch's questions.

Hermione was cool on the surface, not taking Severus to task for his noticeably ill response to her instruction. The wizard's dark eyes rested on her in such a way that she was aware his attention was based on much more than usual student/teacher interaction.

But it wasn't until that evening that Hermione realized just how distracted she had been by the young wizard. She was on her rounds, looking to find errant students engaged in less than stellar activities when she saw Prefect Draco Malfoy making his own rounds, rounds that rightly belonged to Severus Snape, the Head Boy.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said, slightly irritated that a student of her own house was out patrolling without her knowledge, "what are you doing patrolling the corridors?"

Draco immediately recognized the witch's displeasure and made an effort to displace the blame for his presence. Snape was the Head Boy and had the right to delegate the authority of all Prefects. He told Draco about his detention and that Draco was to cover his rounds. The Slytherin had no choice but to oblige him.

"Detention?" Hermione snapped. "With whom?"

Draco blinked at her.

"Why, with you, Professor," the boy replied.

Hermione turned with a billow of robes and headed directly for the dungeons. Because of what had happened the night before, she had completely forgotten she had assigned the boy another night's detention. She stormed into her Potions classroom and looked about. He wasn't in here. Maybe he saw she was absent and returned to Gryffindor tower. It was just as well. She really didn't want to see the boy.

Then, she heard a slight clinking noise coming from her lab. Drawing her wand, the Potions mistress slowly and quietly approached the partially opened door. She pushed it open slowly, then quickly pulled her robes up over her nose to try and protect it from the stench of aggravated Stinkbuggers.

There, crossing the room, was Severus, dressed in what could only be described as a simplified version of a beekeeper suit, but in scarlet and gold. The colors could barely be seen, however, since he was covered in Stinkbugger shit. He transferred them from one terrarium to the other in handfuls, wearing thin gloves. The little monsters were shooting shit everywhere, and Professor Granger had to leap back to avoid a stream blasted toward the door.

Severus heard her, and turned to face the witch, waving at her a bit like a Muggle astronaut.

"Get out here immediately, Mr. Snape. Leave the Stinkbuggers!" the witch snapped at him, her voice muffled by the raised robes.

She left the doorway.

After about ten minutes, Severus exited the labs, dressed in his everyday robes and looking as fresh as a moonflower.

Hermione stalked up to him, her face inches from his, though much lower.

"What are you doing in my classroom?" she hissed at him.

"Serving my detention. You told me what I would have to do last night," the wizard replied, his dark eyes resting on her a bit longingly.

"You have no business being in here. For all I know, you've raided my stores and stolen valuable ingredients," the professor seethed.

Severus raised his arms.

"You can frisk me if you like, Professor," he purred at her.

I know I'd like it, he thought as he looked down at her.

"Put your arms down, you stupid boy!" Hermione snapped. "I have no intentions of frisking you."

"Please?" Severus breathed at her. "I might have really taken something. Something like Boomslang skin maybe."

He thought about suggesting she check his trouser pockets first, but it was an idle, and somewhat suicidal, idea that he wisely let pass.

"You haven't taken anything. You're a Gryffindor. Your house isn't known for taking advantage of fortuitous situations. You're too . . . noble," Hermione said, a look of distaste on her face. "Now, leave my classroom, Mr. Snape. Your detention is over. And from here on out, if I'm not here, you're not here. Understand me?"

"Yes, Professor," Severus said, slowly lowering his arms but not moving.

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. Damn. Was she going to go through this again?

"Leave, Mr. Snape," she said to him, walking around her desk and sitting down, pulling a stack of parchments toward her.

Severus took a step toward her desk.

"Professor Granger, please don't make me leave," he said to the witch, his dark eyes full of passion. "I . . . I want . . ."

"I know what you want, and you can't have it! You stupid, ignorant little idiot! You put yourself in this situation, and you're just going to have to live with it. I am not about to strip down and let you shag me, Mr. Snape. You're just going to have to deal with the consequences of your own adolescent stupidity. Now get out before I blast you out!" Hermione cried, standing up and drawing her wand.

"You might as well kill me," Severus said in a low, pitiful voice, "because if I don't . . . if we don't . . . I'm going to die."

"Lack of pussy has never killed a single man in the world's entire history, Mr. Snape. I highly doubt if it will kill you," she snapped back at him furiously.

"Professor, you don't know how I feel . . . If you'd just let me show you . . . touch you, you'd know what's inside me is real," he breathed, taking another step toward her. "You're the only witch I . . ."

"Imperio!" Hermione hissed, hitting the young Gryffindor with the spell.

"Now leave my classroom, Mr. Snape, and don't come back tonight," she said to him, her face contorted with rage.

Moving jerkily as if trying to throw off the spell, Severus turned and walked out of the classroom, pulling the door closed behind him. He walked up the corridor a ways before he felt the spell lift. He sighed, running his hand through his black hair and turning around to look down the dark hallway. He thought he saw a little sliver of light as if from a slightly opened door. Then it disappeared.

Severus sighed again. He felt as if his life were going to end if he didn't get Professor Granger to accept him at least once.

"You might as well kill me," Professor Granger mimicked as she gathered her papers together. Young wizards were so fucking dramatic. Severus Snape was a drama king. Snorting, she headed for her private rooms.

Severus made it to the Gryffindor corridor, walking very slowly. Draco appeared, finishing his round on that floor. He looked at the Head Boy.

"What happened to you? Did Professor Granger torture you for detention?" he asked the pale wizard, noting his eyes were rather bloodshot.

"No," Severus said weakly. Then he staggered.

And fell.

* * *

Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue as she waved her wand over the unconscious Severus, who was lying on a cot in the infirmary. Draco had summoned help immediately, and Filch had brought the boy in, tottering with him dangerously as he carried him.

"His condition seems to be magically-based. Physically, I can find nothing wrong with him," the mediwitch said, her brow furrowed. Albus stood by her, looking down on the boy worriedly.

"Has he a spell on him now?" the Headmaster asked her.

"Nothing that was cast by another. Spells usually dissipate. The source of the magical signature I'm getting seems to be generated . . ."

The mediwitch paused as she continued to pass the wand over Severus.

"It seems it's self-generated," she finished, turning toward Albus. "This is a spell he's cast on himself."

Albus studied him.

"He took an oath recently," he said in a quiet voice.

"A wizard oath? For what?" the witch asked him.

Albus looked at her.

"Ah, it's rather personal, I'm afraid. I don't think he would want you to know, Poppy," the old wizard said.

Poppy scowled.

"Albus, when someone this young takes an oath, sometimes it is so powerful because of the passion of youth that it can become detrimental, actually beginning to eat at the person because it is unfulfilled. It weakens him, feeding off his life force. But this can happen only if the oath requires some action to be taken. If it were an oath of silence, for example, it usually reacts like any other oath. Can you at least tell me if the oath was one requiring fulfillment?" she asked him.

"Yes. It definitely was," Albus replied. "Fulfillment requiring another person to act in tangent. Something that person is not willing to do."

Poppy sighed.

"Well, someone better talk to that person, because if Mr. Snape does not fulfill that oath, there's a good chance it will kill him," she told the Headmaster soberly.

Albus shook his head. A wizard oath could be taken once a wizard or witch reached the Age of Consent, but it didn't always mean they were ready to take it. This was definitely a rare quirk of the spell, but not unheard of. Obviously, Severus' unrequited desire for the Potions mistress had turned in on him because he was so young and inexperienced with very strong emotions and intentions. It was intent that powered the way magic operated. Desire could be a terrible, powerful force. Kingdoms had been razed to the ground because of it.

"As you know, Poppy, there is a ritual that can be performed to break an oath's hold on a person," Albus said doubtfully. There was, but it was very painful and dangerous. An oath actually took hold of the soul of an individual, becoming bound to it. Dark Magic was involved in its removal.

Poppy stared at Albus as if he'd grown two more bearded heads.

"That will kill him quicker than the oath will," she snapped at him. "Clearly it has a very powerful hold on him, Albus. He'd never survive the process. Never! You're just going to have to talk to whoever is bound to this oath and convince them to help this young man to meet its conditions; otherwise, he's as good as gone in a few weeks at the most."

Albus stared at Poppy.

Professor Granger wasn't going to like this development one bit.

* * *

"WHAT?" Hermione roared, almost blowing the pointed hat off the Headmaster's head as they sat in his office.

The moment Albus offered her some pepper imp candies (which were her favorites), rather than the usual lemon drops, she knew something wasn't right in the dragon's lair.

"Now, calm down, Professor," Albus said, raising both hands in a calming manner.

"Calm down? What do you mean he's dying because of his oath?" the witch demanded. "How can an oath kill someone?"

"Well, in most cases an oath of fulfillment simply binds a person to do their best to complete some act, only adding impetus to move toward completion. An impossible oath generally will dissipate over time," Albus began.

"He took an impossible oath!" Hermione said, scowling.

"Ah, to you, yes. But Mr. Snape believes it is possible to consummate a relationship or at least a tryst with you. Your reluctance to do so has no bearing on that belief whatsoever. It is not impossible, but unlikely," the wizard continued.

"You're damn right it is," the witch growled, looking at Albus sullenly.

"Mr. Snape's desire for you is fueled by the powerful urges of youth. As you know, a young person's desires are quite powerful. They can generate poltergeists of great destructive power without knowing it. This even occurs in young people without magic and has been documented among teenaged Muggles. Think of the oath as taking on the nature of a kind of insensate poltergeist, the destructive nature focused inwardly instead of outwardly. Instead of destroying the surrounding world, it destroys its own source, freeing itself since it will never be completed otherwise," the wizard finished, his blue eyes resting on Hermione soberly.

"This is insane," Hermione muttered, more to herself than Dumbledore. "Snape is going to die if I don't fuck him? Oh, Voldemort's slimy scales."

Both of Albus' eyebrows rose at this rather lewd commentary on the part of his Potions mistress, but he said nothing.

Hermione looked at him. For a moment, just a small moment, Albus could see vulnerability in those brown eyes.

"This is unconscionable," she said quietly, "to be blackmailed into shagging a seventh-year wizard."

Albus shook his head.

"It isn't blackmail, Professor. I am sure Mr. Snape didn't intend for this to happen. I've done some investigation, and up until yesterday evening, he was fine. He showed no signs of sickness," the Headmaster said.

Hermione stared at the Headmaster.

"He told me if we didn't . . . didn't engage, he would die," Hermione said, her voice dark.

Albus considered this.

"Did you feel a resultant magic to this statement? Did he take another oath?" he asked the witch.

Hermione shook her head.

"No. I felt nothing but rage. My own rage," she answered him.

"It could be his declaration took hold with the original oath, inadvertently adding a new intent, one that will have deadly results," the Headmaster said. "Possibly, the magic didn't manifest because the oath was already in place."

All of this was conjecture. Despite all the research that had been done over the ages, much of the way magic operated remained a mystery. The best anyone had was theory.

Hermione sat in the armchair, silent and brooding for several minutes before rising.

"I must go, Headmaster. I have a class in a few minutes," the witch said.

"Mr. Snape has been released this morning. No doubt he will attend your afternoon class. Ill as he is, he is still a very determined young wizard. It would be a pity if his young life were snuffed out before it truly began, don't you think, Professor?" Albus asked her.

Hermione said nothing other than "Goodbye, Headmaster," then tossed a bit of Floo powder into the Floo and stepped through, her robes billowing slightly.

Fawkes let out a sad little trill from his perch. Dumbledore turned to look at him.

"Yes, it is quite a sad situation, Fawkes," the wizard said to the phoenix. "Hopefully Hermione will find it in her heart to make one more sacrifice for the Greater Good. This threat is not as great as the Dark Lord's rise, but the demise of such a promising young man would be truly tragic."

Fawkes bobbled his head in agreement.

* * *

"Severus, you look terrible," Harry said as Severus walked into the common room. The wizard was paler than usual, his eyes rather bloodshot and his normally shiny hair, lank and without body. Ron slowly shook his head.

"I bet Granger put some kind of deterioration spell on him. Do you still have your knobblies?" the red-head asked Severus as he sat down heavily between them. He felt a bit winded.

"Of course I do, you idiot," he snapped at Ron. "I'm just sick."

"Watch for signs of them falling off," Ron advised as he studied the wizard. "They'll probably be the first to go."

If Severus felt a bit stronger, he probably would have punched Ron squarely in the nose. But he was in no condition to brawl.

He slowly rose.

"I've got to get my books. I have Arithmancy," he said, making his way up the stairs.

Harry shook his head.

"He really looks sick, doesn't he?" he asked Ron.

"Of course he does. Tangling with Granger is unhealthy. Period. I hope he survives long enough to help me get ready for the big Advanced Transfiguration exam. Mum will kill me if I flunk it," the wizard said worriedly.

Harry scowled at Ron. This wasn't the time for him to be thinking about himself. But this was standard Ron. The boy who lived looked up the stairwell worriedly. Before, Severus' attraction to Professor Granger had been rather funny. Now it looked rather serious. He was sure it had something to do with her. Maybe she had poisoned him or done something else nasty. He wouldn't put it past her, heroine or not.

* * *

Severus hoisted his books on his shoulder and staggered slightly. The wizard reached into his pocket and took out the bottle of stamina potion Poppy had given him, opened it and took a swig. He capped it back and felt a bit better. Stronger. He looked at himself in the mirror. He did look ill. He remembered what the mediwitch told him when he woke up.

"The oath you took is turning on you, Mr. Snape. Whatever it was that you are bound to fulfill must be fulfilled," Poppy told him gently. "Otherwise it could mean your life."

He had stared at her. He didn't know what to say. He was trying his best to reach the professor, but she refused to be reached.

She hated him.

Well, this development meant one thing for certain. He was going to make history. He'd be the first male to actually die from the lack of pussy.

* * *

Professor Granger was on her way to lunch when she was confronted by a very unwelcome individual.

Harry Potter.

She looked into his green eyes, the eyes of his mother, the eyes of Lily Potter, and her hatred reasserted itself. Yes, he looked like James, but it was those eyes, those blasted, hated eyes that separated them by miles.

"Is there some reason you are blocking my way to the Great Hall, Mr. Potter?" she asked the young wizard, her face contorted.

Harry looked at her. The lank hair. The contorted face. The familiar expression of malice the witch always wore when she came in contact with him. Despite her service, Harry Potter was sure of one thing . . .

Hermione Granger hated him.

"I need to talk to you, Professor. Concerning Severus Snape," the wizard said to the witch, his heart thudding.

Hermione stared at him for a moment. Clearly this was a case of Gryffindor nosiness.

"Mr. Snape is not my charge, Mr. Potter. What could I possibly offer concerning him except that he is an annoying little know-it-all who seeks to dominate my classes?"

Harry stared at the witch for a moment.

"I . . . I just want to know if you've done anything to him," he said hesitatingly.

Hermione scowled at him blackly. Even though she was less than pleased with the randy little bastard, she would never openly do anything to him that could possibly place her job and livelihood in jeopardy.

"What," she said coldly, "are you attempting to imply, Mr. Potter?"

Harry swallowed. Accusing the Potions mistress of hexing one of her students was dangerous business. But he had to know.

"It's just that, well, he's sick. Really sick. And he wasn't before he served detention with you last night," Harry said, "and I know that . . . that he's told you that he . . ."

"Stop right there, Mr. Potter!" Hermione hissed at him, furious. "Your friend's infatuation with me is disturbing and annoying, but to even suggest I've done something to injure a student in any manner is more than insulting! Fifty points from Gryffindor for even thinking such a thing! Now get out of my way!"

Professor Granger pushed by Harry and headed up the dungeon corridor, completely pissed off that he knew of Snape's attraction to her. But she slowed somewhat as she realized that he must not have revealed that his oath was killing him, or else Harry wouldn't have approached her the way he did.

She swooped into the Entrance Hall, terrified students parting before her like she was an evil Moses and they were the Red Sea, then turned down the corridor that led to the teacher's entrance. She entered with a scowl and took her seat, ignoring her fellow staff members as she always did. She glared at the students gathered around the tables, received several satisfying blanches, then ordered her lunch.

As she waited, her brown eyes slid over to the Gryffindor table. Yes, Mr. Snape was there, and he did indeed look ill. Ronald Weasley was seated next to him, waving a piece of chicken under his big nose.

Severus pushed his hand away.

"Stop it, Ron. I said I'm not hungry," Severus said to him, pulling a book out of his knapsack and opening it.

"You've got to keep your strength up, Sev. That hex Granger put on you is draining your strength. Just take a bite. One bite," Ron said, holding up the drumstick again.

"Ron, I'm telling you, I'm going to shove that drumstick right up your arse if you don't leave me alone," Severus snarled.

Ron blinked at him.

"Fine," he said, putting the chicken down on his own plate.

Harry entered and took a seat next to Severus.

"Well, Granger said she didn't do anything to you," Harry said to Severus, who looked shocked.

"What? You said something to her?" he snapped at the wizard.

Harry looked taken aback.

"Yeah, I said something to her, Severus. I wanted to know if she'd done anything to you," the boy who lived responded.

"Why don't you just mind your own fucking business, Harry? I want to deal with this myself!" Severus yelled at him.

Everyone in the Great Hall fell silent, looking at the pale wizard, who wavered in his seat for a moment. Both Ron and Harry caught his shoulders.

"Severus? Are you all right?" Ron asked him as Severus reached into his pocket and took out the bottle of stamina potion. He opened it and drank some down. He strengthened a bit, shrugging away from his friends.

"I'm fine. I just wish everyone would leave me alone," he said, picking up his knapsack and exiting the Great Hall. There was something off about the way he was walking, however. He didn't have the smooth glide he usually did.

Both Harry and Ron looked up at the dais as the Great Hall returned to normal, students whispering about Severus' outburst and how he was probably going to lose points for using foul language in the presence of staff members.

Professor Granger looked back at them with narrowed eyes and a slight smirk on her face.

"She did something to him, Harry. Just look at her," Ron said, frowning at the Potions mistress.

Actually, Hermione was wearing that expression just to aggravate the two wizards. She knew they both thought she was quite capable of killing Severus slowly, and she did nothing to dispel that belief. To be honest, she was a bit worried about Mr. Snape's state. Not only was he sick, but obviously he wasn't eating either.

She sighed as her soup arrived. She'd observe him in class this afternoon and then decide what she would do, if anything.

* * *

Mr. Snape looked perfectly awful when he arrived in class. His skin was so pale, tiny blue veins could be seen beneath his skin, which was dry. His lips were chapped and his eyes dull and defeated. It was easy to see he was trying to focus on the lesson but having difficulty. Every few minutes he would pull out his stamina potion and sip it.

Hermione knew that continued use of the potion would result in it losing its effectiveness. The boy's more frequent use of it showed that was precisely what was occurring. Albus had said Poppy gave him a few weeks, but it seemed he was deteriorating far faster than that. She gave the class a reading assignment and sat down behind her desk, looking at Snape with hooded eyes.

Suddenly he looked up at her. He didn't actually do anything, make any kind of expression, but Hermione could have sworn she heard his soft voice say,

"Please help me. Don't let me die. I don't want to die."

Hermione started and stared at him openly. The wizard's eyes dropped back to the book, and he didn't look up again.

When class ended, Hermione told Severus to stay after class. He dropped heavily back into his seat and took out his stamina potion. He tilted it to his mouth, then hesitated, shaking the bottle.

He was out.

He looked at the witch seated before him.

"Professor, do you have a bit of stamina potion? I'm out, and I don't think I can make it up to the infirmary without a boost," he said to the witch.

"You are such a fucking idiot, Mr. Snape," Hermione hissed at him, "and I have to tell you I do not appreciate being put in such a compromising position. I am aware your oath has turned on you and that you're dying. You deserve to die for being so damn stupid as to focus on a witch twice your age that has no interest in you."

Severus began to slump in the chair.

"However, Albus would never forgive me if I let you slip into the darkness. I've taken stripes for the Greater Good . . ."

Here Hermione paused, then sighed.

"I suppose I'm going to have to take you too," she said, shaking her head.

Severus stared at her.

What? Did Professor Granger just say she'd shag him?

Immediately the wizard's color returned and strength flowed through him. He was hungry too, starving in fact. Even his hair became shiny and silken again.

Hermione watched the near miraculous transformation as the oath ceased to feed off the boy. It was clear that he was restored. Severus smiled at her brightly.

"Oh, good gods," she breathed, letting her head drop to the desk.

"Are we going to do it now?" Severus asked her excitedly.

Hermione lifted her head, her face contorted.

"No, we're not going to do it now, you randy little bastard!" she said to him. "Later. Tonight."

Severus looked delighted.

"What time?" he asked her breathlessly, looking as if he'd hit the Wizarding Lottery.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Gods, it was just sex.

"After you finish your rounds, come to my office," she said to the grinning Gryffindor. "And don't rush through them either. I know how long it takes to patrol the castle."

"I won't," he breathed at her. "Thank you, Professor."

"Considering the circumstances, a simple 'Thank you' is not enough, Mr. Snape. You can be assured that you will be repaying me for this for the rest of your term at Hogwarts, if not for the rest of your life. And you will be taking an oath of silence as well. I won't have you blabbing all over the school," she snarled at him.

Severus felt himself getting hard at that snarl. Oh, this was going to be stellar. Just . . . stellar. He rose from the desk and quickly walked around it, approaching Hermione's desk, his lips pursing in anticipation. Surely she'd give him a kiss since she'd agreed to shag him.

Suddenly he was staring at the tip of her wand.

"Don't even think about it, Mr. Snape," Hermione hissed, her eyes narrowed. "Now, turn around, pick up your knapsack and leave my classroom."

Severus stared at her with hot eyes.

"Yes, Professor," he said, turning and doing just as she asked, an annoying spring in his step as he exited, pulling the door behind him. Then he dipped his head back in.

"I'll see you tonight," Severus said, the broad smile back.

"Get out!" Hermione yelled at him, flicking her wand at the door so it slammed shut. He'd just managed to get his head out just in time.

Professor Granger dropped back into her chair and ran her hand through her hair.

Gods damn it.

* * *

A/N: lolol. Well, she's given in. Now the fun starts. Thanks for reading.