Moonlight & Nightshade Part I

It was always amazing to him the power that a simple touch could possess – it could bring either unbearable pain or the sweetest bliss. With one simple caress, Hermione had brought months of his frustration and heartache to the surface. As Severus held her hand in his, he remembered what it was like when she had been his... when they had each owned a small part of the other.

"We could have those things again, Severus," she spoke quietly, with her head bowed. She put into words the deepest wishes of his heart, the ones he was too afraid to speak. "We could be happy, you and I," she whispered as she ran her thumb softly over the back of his hand, tracing the delicate, blue veins barely visible beneath his pale skin.

Severus' mind warred with his heart – logic with love – each seeking to outweigh the other. "You would never be safe," he replied, taking in the tears that flowed freely down her cheeks. He swore to himself that one day she would never have reason to cry. "As much as I... regret the horrible things that happened to you... to us... and as much as I wish I could change them or even make up for them... I cannot put you in danger again."

She laughed softly, wiping at her eyes with her free hand. "You never had any qualms about such things before."

"Before?" he asked, slightly puzzled.

"Yes, before... before we became, well, before us." She looked at him, one corner of her mouth turned up in a tiny smile.

He was overjoyed to see any semblance of happiness on her face, however small, but could not recall what she was referring to.

"You honestly don't remember?" she asked.

He looked away for a moment, searching his memories of the time before they had become romantically involved. After a moment, a spark lit in the back of his mind. He turned to her: "Surely you don't mean that nightshade debacle?"

She laughed again. "Right in one."

He feigned annoyance, huffing as he rolled left shoulder, which suddenly felt stiff. "Gods, woman, you never forget anything, do you?"

Hermione's countenance softened. "Not about you." She reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ear.

"'Not about me'," he returned, nodding his head. "May I ask what it is about me that has kept the memory so fresh?"

She moved closer, tucking herself tentatively into his side. When his arm came around her, she snuggled deeper, pressing her face into the soft curve made by his shoulder where it joined his chest. Her fingers made half moon patterns in the fabric over his clavicle, tracing over the scars she knew were still there. He could feel her breath – it was warm against his nightshirt when she finally replied, "How could I ever forget the night I lost my heart?"

His chest tightened. They had never really talked of how things began – it was as if there was an unspoken agreement between them on the subject. If Severus was honest with himself, just like Hermione, that night had never left his mind either...

******Flashback******

~Hogwarts School, Scotland

To say he was nervous was understated – to say he was excited was understated as well. It had only been two weeks since the Bonding Ceremony at Stonehenge. The Welcoming Feast had been held earlier that evening and this was Hermione's first official night as Severus' apprentice.

The feast had gone smoothly, starting promptly at 4:30. The new arrivals, all ninety-seven of them, were sorted quickly, and the meal started right on time at five. It was now almost six. Hermione was due to arrive in his office at any moment.

The girl was about to undertake her first assignment as his apprentice: she was to accompany him to the Forbidden Forest to gather a rare form of nightshade, which only bloomed during the full moon, which just happened to be tonight.

It would not be her first track into the forest – she had been there many times during her tenure as a student. Albeit illegally, Severus remembered with a sneer. Well, she would use every bit of that illicit knowledge tonight, whether she wanted to or not. The nightshade they were gathering only grew in the deepest parts of the forest. It would take them around two hours to reach the clearing where it grew, and they would most likely be spending the night in the forest, as it was not safe to travel too long after dark.

He was not looking forward to spending at least eight straight hours in the same tent with the girl, but what choice did he have really? It would take at least two people to gather the plant, and the positives far outweighed the negatives.

As for spending the night, the dangers of the forest, especially during a full moon, were too great to risk life and limb by traipsing about after dark. They had both agreed that the best thing to do would be to leave directly after the feast, find the clearing, and make camp while waiting for the moon to rise and the nightshade to bloom.

As he was shrinking the last of his provisions and putting them into a small duffle, there came a soft knock at his door. "Come in," he called. He looked back over his shoulder as Hermione entered his office, wearing a light traveling cloak with a red duffle slung over her shoulder.

"Are you ready, sir?" she asked, with just a bit too much pep for Severus' taste.

"Yes, Miss Granger. Have you everything you may need?"

She nodded.

"Fine. Let's go." He pulled the buckle tight on his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and brushed past her to the door. He opened it and waited for her to exit, which she did in a flurry when she realized that he was holding the door for her.

"Sorry," she muttered on her way out.

"Indeed."

It was a warm, late summer afternoon, and the sun had just started to ease towards the horizon as they made their way out the front doors of the castle. Severus was glad that he had decided to forego his usual topcoat for this trip. Instead, he wore a simple, long-sleeved, cotton shirt tucked into black trousers, with a pair of black hiking boots on his feet. Hermione, he had noted, was clothed in Muggle garb: she wore light-colored denims, a pair of trainers that had certainly seen better days, and a plain, short-sleeved, black t-shirt underneath her cloak.

Severus strode purposefully towards their destination: the Forbidden Forest. Hermione almost had to run to keep up with his long strides.

"Professor!" he heard her call, as she started to fall behind. He did not slow his pace. "Sir!" she called again. Still, he didn't slow. Only when he heard her outcry of: "Severus!" did he slow his pace and turn back towards her. She was picking herself up off the ground, looking irritated as she brushed dirt from her hands and knees.

"Are you quite capable of keeping up, or shall I have to toss you over my shoulder to insure you come along in a timely manner?" he spat. She stormed up to him, still brushing dirt from her front.

"If you weren't in such a bloody hurry, I wouldn't have any trouble keeping up... sir."

"Do you wish to be traipsing about the forest after nightfall, Miss Granger?" He watched her cross her arms petulantly. Her lips pressed into a thin line, obviously suppressing some sarcastic remark.

"I thought as much. Now, if you are quite ready, I'd like to make camp sometime this year."

He turned with a flourish of his cloak. Hermione swallowed her pride and gave him a good glaring at before running to catch up.

__________________________________________

"Is this it?" Hermione asked curiously.

Tired and hot from their trudge through the forest, Severus simply answered, "Yes."

He stood quietly, gazing around the small clearing. It would probably be considered cozy, with its overhanging canopy of branches and soft blanket of lush grass, if it was not in the middle of one of the most dangerous magical places in Great Britain.

Severus dropped his bag to the ground gently. He walked towards the center of the clearing, looking up at the darkening sky through the gap in the canopy of leaves. "I'd say we have approximately thirty minutes until nightfall. I suggest we get things settled now." He gave the sky one last look before moving back towards his pack.

Hermione had set her duffle down as well and was also inspecting the clearing. "So, this is where it will bloom?" she asked, walking to the space underneath the gap in the canopy. She got down on her knees to inspect the ground more closely, running her hands over the grass. It looked the same as the rest of the clearing.

"Yes," Severus replied, watching her peer down at the ground as if she did not believe him. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if I wasn't the only one doing something constructive."

She turned to him with a frown. He waved vaguely in the direction of the trees on the other side of the clearing. "Make a circle. Set up repelling charms, Notice-Me-Nots, and a ward breach alarm about thirty feet out." He turned back to his pack as Hermione set off.

Kneeling down, he unbuckled the bag. He reached inside and pulled out a small brown bundle, about the size of a deck of playing cards. Searching the clearing for a moment, he finally chose a spot not far from where he was kneeling. He pushed to his feet and made his way towards the chosen location, his wand now in his hand, and tossed his small bundle onto the ground. With one flick of his wrist it turned itself into a small, canvas tent.

When he determined that it was livable from the outside, he threw back the flap and went to inspect the inside, his pack sailing after him. Hermione followed a few moments later, entering upon the tail end of a string of expletives.

"...shite!" he spat.

"Sir?" he heard her ask as she came up behind him. "What's wrong?"

"Done already?" he replied caustically. She crossed her arms and struck a classic 'and what of it?' pose.

He narrowed his eyes at her, but ignored her petulance.

"Wrong, Miss Granger? What could possibly be wrong?" He gestured around the space in which they were standing. Hermione looked around. Most magical tents were shockingly similar: they were standing in a small sitting area, consisting of two arm chairs, one small sofa, and a round coffee table. There was a small kitchen over to the right, what was supposedly a loo to their left, and straight back against the far wall of the tent was a large bed, outfitted with a deep red comforter and pillows, all sitting atop white sheets.

Severus could see her brow scrunch together as she took in the large bed. Her head swiveled left, and then right as she searched for another sleeping area. She came up empty. "Well," she said resignedly, "I'll just take the sofa then." She smiled at him and tossed her bag onto its overstuffed cushions.

Severus' annoyance level rose considerably. If he was a lesser man, he would have taken her decision as it stood and slept well that night. Instead – and he told himself that it was simply a compulsion of the vow he had taken as a Master, to see to her well-being – Severus snatched her pack from its place on the sofa and walked to the back of the tent, tossing it on the bed. "Hardly, Miss Granger," he said.

"But sir, I'll be fine on the sofa, honestly."

"Be that as it may, I am more accustomed to sleeping in... relative discomfort than you are. I shall take the sofa." He walked back towards her. "Besides, I cannot have my apprentice unable to work because of a strained back, nor do I care to hear her whine about it for the duration of this project."

"But..." she began, before being cut off.

"That is enough, Miss Granger. Take the bed," he gestured towards it, "now."

She huffed. "Fine, but don't expect me to like it."

He raised an eyebrow at her and turned away, headed towards the kitchen and – she hoped – a large pot of tea.

___________________________________________________________________________

Two hours later, the moon had finally risen above the trees. Hermione and Severus sat around a small fire near the entrance of the tent. A fire she had insisted upon, much to Severus' utter annoyance. "It is September, Miss Granger," he had reminded her as she had set about making a ring of stones to safely contain the blaze. She had insisted again, stating that one could not camp properly without some form of campfire, be it September or not. He had rolled his eyes and left her to it.

Now, as the coolness of the night had settled upon them, Severus was secretly glad for her small fire, although he would never admit it. His supplies were at his side, and he kept watch on the moon, waiting for it to move into the correct position.

Hermione, on the other hand, was enjoying the fire immensely. She had brought a packet of marshmallows with her, for just such an occasion, and was even now pulling the hot, blackened fluff from the end of a long toasting stick. "Are you sure you don't want one, sir?" she asked him for the fourth time. "They're quite good."

She popped the sticky glob into her mouth.

"No, thank you, Miss Granger," he replied for the fourth time, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. His lips turned up in a small, amused smile as he watched her lick the leftovers from her fingers. She seemed so like a child at that moment, and Severus found himself once again doubting his decision to take her on. She was very young, and though she was intelligent and mature beyond her years, she was an innocent, still naïve to the real dangers and ways of the world.

"So," she said after her fingers were clean, "we're waiting on the moonlight to fall on the exact center of the clearing, correct?"

He had already explained it to her once. She had understood, but as was her way, she asked question after question, nitpicking every detail, wearing it down to its base properties... and wearing him down in the process.

He sighed resignedly and automatically shifted into lecture mode: "Yes, Miss Granger. When the moonlight hits the clearing, the nightshade will break through the earth and bloom in a matter of minutes. It is in these first few moments that they hold the most magic, the most potency... and are the most deadly. They must be harvested immediately." He reached down beside him and grabbed a pair of light, leather gloves, tossing them to her. "Wear those," he said. "I wouldn't want you to accidentally poison yourself in your exuberance."

She simply smiled at him and tucked the gloves into a back pocket. A few more minutes passed. Severus continued to watch the moon; Hermione ate another marshmallow.

Finally he stood, beckoning that she should do the same. "Come," he said as he gathered his supplies – a leather bag and a pair of dragon-hide gloves – before walking to the middle of the clearing.

He knelt in the cool grass, just as Hermione had earlier, and handed her the bag before pulling on his gloves. He took his wand from his sleeve and cast a look to the sky, where the moon was indeed directly above them, shining silvery light down onto the grass.

"Sir!" Hermione exclaimed.

He turned his attention back to the ground in front of them. It had started to writhe and churn, popping and rolling as if a volley of nightcrawlers fought to break free of the dirt. Hermione watched, transfixed, as the first tiny green shoot spurted from the grass. Its thin stalk was moist and luminescent in the lunar light, glistening like a wet diamond. It grew quickly, unfolding itself slowly, elegantly in the moonlight. By the time that first delicate flower had opened its sparkling lavender blooms, hundreds more were sprouting forth and opening right before her eyes. It was breath-taking... like watching nature in fast-forward, or witnessing the birth of a galaxy of stars.

"Beautiful," she whispered, pulling on her own gloves.

"Yes," she heard Severus whisper in reply.

She turned to look at him and was shocked. The Potion master's face was not that of her school days. Gone were the harsh lines and the scowling countenance. Instead, he looked upon the scene before them with what Hermione could only call reverence. The corners of his lips were turned up in a small smile, and she could even see his teeth peeking from between his parted lips. The moonlight shone down upon him, softening the rest of his features and making his ebony hair shine like liquid obsidian. Hermione found herself unable to look away. He was undeniably beautiful in that moment.

As Hermione continued to watch, he started the stasis spell for the first few blooms. With a delicate flick of his wand, he plucked them from their trembling stalks. As she held out the bag for him to place them in, her attention was suddenly drawn elsewhere. It was a sound, far off in the distance, which reminded her vaguely of... pipes? Horns? What on Earth? Whatever it was, it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

She was about to turn back to Severus, to ask him about the strange noise, when his hand clamped over her mouth. Her first reaction was to grab hold of his fingers and pull them away. Before she could even get a grip, his wand arm encircled her waist and she was pulled roughly against him. Her back was flush with his chest, and her face was pressed against his. Panic seized her and she struggled in his grasp. She could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he fought to control her. His breath was hot on her neck as he whispered frantically, giving her a shake, "Don't... move!"

She froze.

Something was wrong.

Her brow came together as she quieted and strained to look into his face. He loosened his grip slightly, so that she could see him. The look on his face made her go cold: fear.

Severus Snape was afraid.

Keeping his hand over her mouth, he looked pointedly towards the far side of the clearing, then back to her, silently asking if she understood.

Her eyes were wide with her own fear as she gave the smallest nod of her head.

He removed his hand from her mouth, settling it around her waist with the other. Ever so slowly, Severus pulled off his gloves in order to get a better grip on his wand. They knelt there in the clearing, the nightshade forgotten as the low drone of flutes and trumpets once again pierced the air. When the outer wards screamed their breaching, Severus' hands tightened convulsively around Hermione, pulling her more firmly against him. She could feel the tightness of his knuckles around his wand as she gripped his hands with one of her own. Following his lead, she slowly pulled off her own gloves before reaching into her back pocket for her wand.

She and Severus were pressed together so tightly that she had to force her hand between his hips and hers. The fact that he did not notice her hand as it brushed up against his groin frightened her immensely. His full attention was focused upon the forest at the far side of the clearing, to where the unknown object of his – their – fear was coming ever closer.

They could now hear the protestation of the trees, a snapping and breaking of branches as something too big for the forest tried to force its way through. This time it was Hermione who tightened her grip on Severus. Feeling her fear, and knowing that they must move, he tightened his grip on her waist and pulled her to her feet.

The sounds of destruction were right outside the clearing now. They could literally see the shrubbery parting and crashing around the nightmare that was coming straight for them. A low, resounding tremor rippled through the air.

It was growling.

With the stealth of a phantasm, it stepped out into the clearing. Hermione felt her heart leap into her throat. Severus' hand tightened once more around her waist. The creature standing before them was the stuff of nightmares, something sent from the darkest corner of Hell to bring the wicked to their doom. They were right to be afraid. This was Death...

The manticore was enormous – the size of a horse and twice as wide. It came with the body of a lion and a sickeningly human face that peered menacingly at them through ice blue eyes set beneath a thick brow. It slunk into the clearing, muscles rippling beneath its tawny skin, its nose in the air, sniffing. Leathery wings sprouted from its shoulders, reaching upwards into the sky like those of a great, demonic bat. The moon shone through the thin, waxy skin, turning the silver light a sickly pink.

Catching their scent, the beast roared, and Severus shoved Hermione behind him. Multiple rows of razor-sharp teeth dripped with thick saliva as it bellowed its rage at them. A scorpion tail was raised over its back, the tip dripping with venom, instantly fatal to anyone unlucky enough to feel its sting.

"Back away... now!!" Severus growled at her, never taking his eyes or his wand from the leviathan before them.

Hermione did not hesitate. She did as she was told, keeping a firm hold on his hand to make sure he too was backing away.

He offered no resistance, and they slowly backed their way towards the forest. The creature roared once more and took a step towards them.

Formalities were forgotten as Hermione whispered, "Severus..." in a voice laced with panic. She too, had her wand trained on the beast. It watched them as they backed away, its eerie blue eyes glittering with malice, along with something else – a terrible, raw hunger. Dagger-sized claws dug trenches in the earth as it dug in, muscles coiling tightly as it prepared to spring.

There was a pregnant pause, in which everything seemed to slow down. Hermione could make out the beads of sweat on Severus' brow, the slight twitch of the muscle in his jaw, tight with tension. Severus, in turn, could feel the pulse of her blood as it rushed through the hand still clinging to his own. He could hear the slide of the moist skin of her palm as she readjusted her grip on her wand.

It was but a single moment, and then Hell unleashed itself upon them.

"Run!!" Severus shouted as the beast sprang into the air with one powerful downward swoop of its wings. The great leathery appendages churned the air around them – leaves and twigs flew everywhere in a cyclone of wind that whipped their hair about their faces, stinging their skin. Hermione turned, still grasping his hand as she sought to get them both to safety, but was pulled up short when he didn't move.

"What are you doing?!" she screamed into the maelstrom.

"Saving your precious Gryffindor hide!!" he screamed in return, giving her a shove towards the trees. "Now run, dammit!!"

Severus turned back to monster and slashed his wand at it, his hair still flying wildly about his face. The creature shrieked and dropped to the ground. It clawed at its face where a great gaping wound had opened up, spilling viscous, black blood onto the grass.

When a second blow, not of his making, fell on the creature, Severus turned to see Hermione standing with him. Her wand was trained on the demon before them, shaking with her barely contained fear.

"You God-damned Gryffindors are all the same, aren't you?" he spat, as he turned back to land a third blow, this one laying open the beast's chest. It screamed its rage at him, spittle flying from its gaping maw.

Although her voice shook when she spoke, his cutting remark seemed to renew her vigor. "I'm not going to let you die, sir. How will I finish my apprenticeship if my master is being digested?" She sent another hex at the creature, but like her first, it simply rebounded into the trees with a crackle.

He sneered at her. "Spoken like a true Slytherin."

"When in Rome..." she muttered.

"Cheek, Hermione... and don't bother using hexes – they won't work. Curse the bastard!" He slashed again with his wand, slicing through the tip of one wing.

Infuriated by the onslaught of curses that Severus was throwing at him, the beast roared again, this time lashing out with its tail. It struck the grass not two feet in front of Hermione. She shrieked and scrambled backwards before falling to the ground. The manticore saw this as his opportunity to strike and surged forward.

Severus did not hesitate as he sent Hermione flying backwards with a repelling charm and leapt into the path of the charging nightmare, seeking to land a fatal – or at least debilitating – blow.

Instead, as Hermione watched in horror, the beast fell upon him. It was by the grace of whoever was watching over them that its razor sharp teeth did not clamp down on Severus' throat. They closed around his left shoulder instead. Hermione could hear the crunch of bone and the tearing of skin and sinew as he was lifted from the ground and slung through the air. His body slammed into a tree and he slid to the ground, gasping in pain. As his world narrowed to a small black tunnel, he tried to sit up, but his left arm wouldn't work. Funny, that, he thought in a haze.

"No!!" he heard Hermione scream. He looked up and could barely make out her small form hurtling across the clearing, throwing everything she had at the enraged animal. He knew it was futile. Like he had told her, a manticore's hide was thick, so thick that it repelled everything except the most powerful curses – curses with which most people were not familiar, least of all Hermione Granger.

Besides, the creature had tasted his blood and now it wanted the rest of him.

In a daze, he reached for his wand with his working arm, only to find it gone, lost somewhere in the churned up clearing.

In desperation, he slashed his hand at the approaching beast, sending out a silent repelling spell. It only shook its head slightly, as if troubled by a bothersome insect. Severus' heart sank as he felt the last of his strength drain from him when the wandless magic left his fingertips. Without his wand to channel his magic, and injured as he was, he stood no chance against the monster before him. He sank back against the tree trunk, exhausted, and waited for the end.

The animal slowly closed the last bit of distance between them. It could sense that its prey had given up. It would be an easy kill.

The beast let out a low growl that resonated throughout Severus' entire body. He could smell its putrid breath: the smell of rotting meat and fresh blood was so heavy he thought he might be sick. Was this the last thing he would know in this life? The gaping maw of a man-eater as it tore at his flesh, spilling his life blood on the cool grass of the clearing? God, what would happen to Hermione? He knew she would not run, not when she thought she could save him, not when she thought he had a chance.

As if on cue, he saw her run at the creature, raising her wand. Simultaneously, the manticore raised its mammoth, razor-tipped paw, preparing to strike the final blow. As if in slow motion, Severus watched that paw descend towards him. He could see the serrated edges, the clumps of wet earth underneath them as it descended to take him to his death.

His vision was darkening again. Perhaps he would pass out before the beast landed its blow. Perhaps it would be painless.

It was almost completely dark now... peaceful. A woman's voice – Hermione, he reminded himself – frantic with fear, was screaming at him from somewhere far away. He wondered why...

Suddenly, a flash of green cut across the darkness.

Impending death must have made him senile, because the last thing he remembered thinking before his world went completely black and everything stopped, was that his apprentice, Hermione Granger, Princess of Gryffindor and beloved friend of The Boy Who Lived, had just cast the Killing Curse.

~TBC

A/N: Mwahaha!! Sorry for the cliffie, but I had to end it here!

This chapter is pretty long – I think it came in at around 5,000 words – but this flashback isn't over yet. The next chapter will continue this memory, but it probably won't be quite as long. Also, I didn't put the flashback in italics this time, simply because there were so many pieces of dialogue that the logistics made my head hurt! I hope everything was clearly seperated... let me know if you have any questions!

As for the manticore, I've taken a few liberties with him, but all in all, he's just your normal, everyday, mythical beast. As for the pipes and horns, this is what the voice of a manticore sounds like, according to internet sources. Interpret it as you will.

Also, please take a moment to review! I know you're out there! At least, I hope you are... It lifts my spirits and fuels the Muse to hear your thoughts, even if it's to threaten to come find me and bash me over the head with my keyboard! Thanks! *Not for the bashing... for the reading and reviewing!*