XI

Warning: This chapter starts out rather grisly and gets ugly fast. There is a point to the darkness, and I swear it isn't just for the hell of it, but if you're sensitive, I suggest skipping it.

Hermione was walking down a dungeon corridor. She didn't know how she had gotten this far down in the dungeons, but she was curious to see what there was in the bowels of the castle. Besides mold and spiders, that was.

So far, there was nothing. The corridor was completely blank, just stone walls stretching out in front of her, fading away into the gloom. There weren't even any doors to break the monotony. Just boring gray stone after boring gray stone.

Suddenly, she spied a door on her right. Smiling at the change, she went toward it, but got distracted by a door appearing on her left.

She was a bit confused as she was pretty sure there hadn't been a door on the left before, but it was a magical castle after all. Doors were known to disappear, so why not appear as well? Besides, it could be the wall masquerading as a door, mocking the door across the hall.

She tried the handle, and it turned without a creak. Suddenly, she found herself in the middle of a room, looking around in awe. It was a throne room. Everything in the room was gilded, glinting in the airy light. It nearly blinded her.

She heard a noise behind her and turned, feeling her lungs fail at the sight before her.

Harry, Severus, Ginny and Theodore were lined up on the golden wall, shackled. They were emaciated, almost corpselike. The only way she knew they weren't dead was the constant trickle of blood oozing out of the welts that crisscrossed their bodies like a horrible parody of clothes.

Hermione rushed forward to help her friends, wincing when she saw how the metal was eating through their flesh, one chafe at a time. They were all looking at her, silently beseeching her to do something. She hurriedly pulled out her wand and undid all the shackles, freeing them, banishing the shackles and chains for good measure.

She expected them to be happy, or at the very least sigh with relief, but their reaction was to cower further into the wall away from her.

Confused, she held out her hands to help them up, but they all crept further back, pushing against the gilded wall so that it stretched against their gaunt backsides. She watched in horror as, one by one, each of her friends pushed through the golden veneer, cracking the surface until four large tears were formed, swallowing each body in a cascade of blood.

Hermione watched, suppressing the urge to gag, as the blood behind the gilt seeped down into the places her friends had been and began pouring out over the floor, creeping toward her. Reaching for her like a grotesque hand.

She backed away but found the room had shrunk; her back hit the wall too quickly. She looked for a way out...there had to be a way out if she had gotten in...but the golden walls glinted evilly, blinding her to any exit.

Casting her eyes to the floor again, she saw the fingers of blood pause for a fleeting second before attacking her robes.

She tried to shinny up the walls, but they were too slick to offer any retreat. Too soon, the blood was climbing up her robe, drenching her in a sickly stench, dying her black robes red. She needed to get away from the blood that was gliding up her skin, trying to find some way into her. She felt the blood calling to her, serenading her as it crept up her body toward her mouth.

She finally thought to call for help and screamed with all her might.

As her scream reached fever pitch, the blood came to a halt and quivered. Suddenly, the room shattered and shards of gilded glass flew about, breaking up the space around her. Hermione ducked down into a ball, trying to protect herself from the sharp edges, covering her ears to shield herself from the piercing wail that filled the void.

And then she was standing in the corridor again. She turned around, still breathing hard, but it was exactly as she remembered it from before.

Sighing with relief, she leaned her forehead against the cool stones, trying to calm her heart down. The stones embraced her head, comforting her, leeching the horror from her brow until the vision of her friends' skeletal forms faded to a mere ghost of a memory.

Finally calm, Hermione looked at the pair of doors again.

I'm dreaming, she thought. This has to be a dream. She looked down the hallway again and wished for more light. Sure enough, seven torches lit up in the area surrounding her, eradicating the eerie shadows where she stood.

Well, if this is a dream, and I know it's a dream, then my choices are to either wake up or explore some more, she reasoned with herself. If I wake up, then I'll either be awake for the rest of the night, or I'll go back to sleep and probably have another nightmare, and next time I might not know it's a dream, so I would be more scared than if this continues to be a nightmare. At least here I can reassure myself that it's only a dream. I can always wake myself up if it gets bad.

Mind made up, she grasped the door handle in front of her and pushed. The door opened with an ominous creek, revealing a dark room. As soon as she stepped through the door, a torch lit up, revealing stone steps leading up in a spiral.

With a sense of foreboding, Hermione started up the stairs, trying not to flinch each time a torch flared to life just ahead of her. It didn't take long before the stairs ended in a very small corridor that led to an ancient wooden door. The door looked too old to exist in one piece. Looking at it a bit closer, she saw it wasn't wood at all, but webs. Layer after layer of gossamer threads constantly weaving themselves together. It looked terribly delicate, but when she touched it, it felt more solid than the castle's front doors.

She reached for the door handle, knowing instantly that she wasn't going to like what was beyond the door, but curious all the same. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly and quietly pushed the door aside.

At first she was relieved to see how dim the lighting was. No golden walls were harboring a secret blood lust, and that was fine with her. She caught a flicker of movement in her peripheral vision and turned toward it. Squinting, she realized how exposed she was. It might be a dream, but she didn't want to suffer any more slings and arrows. She'd had enough outrageous fortune to last a lifetime.

When her eyes finally adjusted to the lack of light, she gasped. Lord Voldemort was standing over Dumbledore and Harry, his back to her. Voldemort was not alone, though. On one side of him stood Lucius Malfoy, arrogant as ever, while on the other side stood Severus.

Hermione almost cried out in shock, seeing the distaste on Severus' face as he glared at the headmaster and Harry. Dumbledore was pleading with him, but Severus just smiled and cast another Cruciatus on Harry. Again. And again.

She couldn't bear it. She couldn't hear Harry's screams or Dumbledore's pleas, but she could feel their anguish. Severus' betrayal had torn Dumbledore's heart out, literally, while Harry's pain and rage was only egging Severus on.

She tried to move toward them, but before she took a step, there was a flash of green light, and her allies slumped lifelessly on the floor.

It's only a dream, Hermione said to herself. It's only a dream.

Lucius then turned to Severus and smiled, gesturing with his head toward a bit of floor blocked from Hermione's view. Severus nodded and smiled back with a grin that made Hermione shiver. It was demonic.

They both looked to their master who nodded, and they separated from his side. When they moved, Hermione caught a glimpse of someone lying on the floor, bound in magical ropes. The person was wriggling like a worm, trying in vain to get away from the Death Eaters.

The dream shifted, and Hermione found herself with a clear view of the situation. The girl must have been no more than ten, and she was watching the two wizards with terror. She looked up at Severus with pleading eyes.

Severus knelt down and gently scooped the girl into his lap, embracing her kindly. The girl closed her eyes, weeping with relief as Severus soothed her, petting her hair and crooning softly, telling her everything would be all right, a picture of compassion.

Hermione was about to give in to her relief when Lucius approached the pair, a wicked gleam in his eye.

Severus looked up at Lucius, who nodded, and suddenly Severus' grip on the girl tightened painfully. The girl whimpered in discomfort, but when she opened her eyes, she screamed.

Lucius was standing over her with a dagger in his hand. The dagger glinted dangerously, even though there was no light to reflect. As the knife came down, Hermione looked away, only to see herself watching the scene with unholy glee in her red eyes.

Screaming, Hermione awoke with a jolt. Breathing hard, she felt herself shaking as the disturbing images faded away into the familiar darkness. Adjusting back to reality, she started when a gentle hand touched her shoulder.

"Shh," Severus' voice said. "It was only a nightmare. Relax."

Feeling a wave of exhaustion pass over her, Hermione complied, though she had mixed feelings about Severus starting to stroke her. On the one hand, it was very soothing, but on the other hand, she was still very upset with him.

"What was the dream about?" Severus asked, his voice soft and calming. He sounded so nice.

Hermione yawned and decided not to discourage him from touching her. It did feel nice.

"Well," she murmured sleepily, "I'm not sure. You and Harry and Ginny and Theodore were all chained up, but refused my help, and then everyone leaned back and disappeared into the gilded wall, which then bled and reached out for me."

"Mm. And the other part?" Severus cooed sympathetically.

Hermione sighed uneasily and settled back into her pillow, not entirely comfortable with the way Severus was comforting her. She didn't know why, but it felt wrong somehow, like he wasn't being himself.

"The other dream was much worse." Hermione sighed again and shivered. Severus reacted to the shiver by pulling the sheet up over them both and then continuing his strokes on her arm, though the strokes were getting longer and covering more skin.

"I found myself in a dark area watching as you tortured and killed Harry and Dumbledore while Lucius and Voldemort looked on. After the murders, you and Lucius moved over to a girl who was lying huddled and bound on the floor. You picked her up and started comforting her, being very nice and sweet and gentle. Then Lucius came up, and you held the girl down while he brought out a dagger."

"What did the girl look like?" Severus asked, moving his other hand to her shoulder, massaging her muscles a little without ceasing his strokes on her arm.

"I suppose she looked a bit like me, but she couldn't have been more than ten. And she was far prettier than I ever was as a child."

Hermione paused, trying to relax, though Severus' touch was making her skin crawl. She didn't want to ask him to stop, though, because she didn't want to discourage this sympathetic side of him.

"I couldn't watch Lucius brutalize the girl, but when I turned around, the person I thought had been Voldemort, turned out to be me." She shuddered. "The look on my face was... It was evil. I was evil."

"Ah, well, there's the root of the dream, right there. You're afraid that you're going to turn into Voldemort, what with your new powers."

"And the girl was me?"

"You... or your innocence."

Hermione shivered again, thinking about the enjoyment her evil self had gotten out of the scene. "I never want to be like that. Never."

Severus stroked her arm down to her fingertips and then startled her when he didn't stop there. His fingers ended up on her thigh. She shivered again.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Severus whispered. "You will never be all powerful."

She went to push his hand away, not being in an amorous mood, but he caught her wrist.

"Severus?" she queried when he didn't let go of her wrist. "Severus, please let go. You're making me uncomfortable."

"Hush, now, Hermione. I'm just trying to reassure you that no matter how powerful you get, your powers won't always make a difference."

She frowned up at the man who was sliding his body over hers and tried to suppress her fear. Surely Severus wouldn't do that?

"That's not the kind of reassurance I need, Severus. Now stop scaring me and get off."

He smiled wickedly just over her, his long hair tickling her cheeks. "Make me." He then lowered his head and started nipping at her neck, slowly making his way down to her breast.

Her stomach tightened painfully. She tried to stay in control to keep the panic at bay. Concentrating, she summoned her wand into her free hand. Pointing it at her husband, she quickly cast a Levicorpus on him, to no effect.

"Mm," he said, letting his mouth disengage from her nipple with a pop. "That doesn't even scratch the surface of your powers, my dear. Try again."

He lowered his mouth to her other nipple while his free hand crept toward her crotch. She couldn't even see her own body through the greasy curtain of his hair.

Hermione frantically went through every spell she could think of that might repel him, but even a Stunning Spell had no effect. Feeling the panic rise, she gathered her wits about her and summoned all her emotional strength. She felt the air around her charging. She closed her eyes and focused all the energy she'd summoned to force Severus away from her. She felt the air solidify, but it passed through Severus as if he were insubstantial.

He chuckled from where he was, tonguing her navel. "I told you that you need to learn the art of intimidation if you are to influence me."

He forced a finger into her dryness, making her cry out in distress. She dropped her wand and began hitting him. He captured her other wrist and shimmied up her body.

"Severus, stop!"

She scrambled desperately to create some space between them.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she wailed.

"Hermione, did you truly think I was nice?" he said, a cruel smile overtaking his face.

He shook his head mockingly. The dank curtain of his hair suffocated her and muffled her scream, even to her own ears.

"Don't play dumb, Hermione!"

She sobbed, still struggling against his grip and body.

She closed her eyes, unsuccessfully trying to stop herself from sobbing while blindly trying to kick his legs off her, shift his weight off her, anything.

She whimpered unconsciously.

Please, no. She closed her eyes. This is just a dream! I will wake up right now! This is just a dream! I will open my eyes, and everything will be okay.

"Hermione! Look at me!" he ordered in his professorial tone, giving her shoulder a little shake.

Mindlessly obeying, her eyes popped open, and she found him kneeling beside her, giving her more room to fend him off.

She punched him square in the chest and rolled away as he reeled. She quickly found the edge of the bed and propelled herself off of it, blind to where she was going. When she hit the wall, her heart sank, knowing the only exit was blocked by her invincible foe.

Unable to see anything through her blurry vision, she gave up and sank to the floor, instinctively curling into as small a target as possible. She hid her head in her knees, shaking with fear as she waited for his approach, but then realized that was silly. She wanted to see him coming so she could at least prepare for his attack.

When she looked up, he was between her and the bed and was approaching slowly.

"Hermione?" His voice was soft and concerned, just like it had been with the girl.

"Don't come any closer!" she cried, raising a hand protectively.

He stopped, and even through her tears she could see his confusion and fear. He held up his hands in a peaceful gesture, though he was clearly at a loss for words.

He stood very still for a moment before slowly backing away from her in the direction of the bathroom, never turning his back on her or making a sudden move. She watched him closely every step of the way until he disappeared through the door.

Panting in relief, Hermione quickly wiped her eyes and wondered if she had enough time to make a run for the Floo. Just as she started shifting, he came out of the bathroom, a bundle of blue rope in his hands.

Her panicked mind immediately sprang to the worst, and she started sobbing again, trying to back away.

"Please don't do this, Severus," she begged, stopping him in his tracks.

"Don't do what, Hermione?" he whispered haltingly.

She couldn't look at him. "Please, don't... Please..."

"Hermione, I won't hurt you."

She heard him moving and flinched.

He stopped and cursed under his breath. "I'm getting Poppy."

Hermione raised her head in surprise, but Severus had already turned to leave the room. He was unfurling the rope as he walked, and she finally recognized it as her robe when he wrapped it around himself. It was then that she noticed how short his hair was.

It was all a dream, she thought.

She let out a sigh of relief, which turned into a sob before she finished. The tears came fast and heavy, and she found it difficult to catch her breath. She tried to calm herself down, but every effort made it worse.

"Hermione," a feminine voice said near her. She looked up, but even the sight of Poppy couldn't stem the tide. "Hermione, I need you to take this Calming Draught. You're becoming hysterical, child, and I need for you to breathe slowly."

Hermione nodded her understanding, though her cries weren't letting up. Somehow, with a good deal of excellent timing, and a pinch of magic, Hermione managed to swallow a measure of the potion and almost immediately she felt her body relaxing. Her diaphragm was unclenching, and her sobs faded, though the tears kept falling.

Thoroughly exhausted, Hermione let her head fall onto her knees, riding out the last of the hiccups privately. When she felt something being draped over her back, she jumped, but Poppy started murmuring soothing words, and Hermione forced herself to relax again, knowing she was safe in the matron's care.

Soon the tears stopped, and Hermione slowly raised her head. The first thing she saw was Poppy's worried face, but a motion behind Poppy caught her eye before she could smile in reassurance.

Severus started walking toward her, looking haggard with worry. Unfortunately, Hermione's body reacted before her brain, and she flinched at his approach. He stopped, looking wounded before his mask slipped into place.

Poppy took in the by-play between them with concern.

"Hermione, did Severus hurt you?"

Hermione shook her head, trying to find her voice. "No. Not in real life."

She then looked to Severus and tried to smile apologetically. "Severus, I know I'm overreacting. I know you won't hurt me, but... but that dream was so real."

Severus nodded tersely and opened his mouth to speak, but found he had to clear his throat first. "I suggest we discuss this somewhere more comfortable."

Hermione nodded. She stood up with Poppy's help and, leaning on the elder witch, made her way to the sitting room. She sat next to Poppy on the settee while Snape chose the wing chair by the fireplace, looking very closed.

"Was this nightmare similar to the one you had last night?" Poppy asked in a soothing voice. Hermione nodded, but she realized it wasn't quite true.

"The last one was, but the two preceding it were very different, and I'm pretty sure they're unrelated."

"She had a nightmare last night?" Snape asked coolly. Hermione could feel Poppy nod.

"Will you tell us about the nightmare?" Poppy asked. Seeing Hermione's reticence, Poppy added, "Sometimes all it takes to keep a dream from repeating itself is to examine the cause."

Hermione laughed bitterly. "That's what I've been trying to avoid for the last three days."

"Three days?" Snape asked. Hermione looked up at him and flushed.

"When, er... when Lucius attacked me, he, erm, kind of touched me."

Severus looked uncomprehending for a moment and then went pale. He drew his fingers up to trace his lips, looking at Hermione with an intense glare.

"I see. Did he do more than touch you?"

Hermione shook her head, unsure of whether his anger was directed at her or not. His manner was so cold, she couldn't tell.

"And in your dream... I was raping you?"

Hermione reluctantly nodded, trying not to shiver.

He stood up abruptly, his face a grim mask of rage. She couldn't diguise the fear his expression evoked, and it earned her a harsh look before he turned away to face the fireplace.

"I imagine you would be more comfortable sleeping elsewhere."

Hermione's heart sank. He was angry at her. He was dismissing her. She was surprised at how much his rejection hurt.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she didn't answer. He turned around for confirmation, and she was surprised by his worried mien.

"The other nightmare," he said so quietly she could barely hear him, "the one from last night, was it the same?"

On impulse, Hermione got up and walked toward him, hugging the robe to herself as she neared him.

"The details were different, but mostly, yes."

She was leaning her shoulder against the mantle, watching him. His eyes were open, but it was obvious he saw nothing in the room. She watched as a fog of sadness settled itself around his features, aging him prematurely.

She wanted to reach out to him, to apologize, to tell him it was only a dream – only a messed up part of her subconscious using his face as representation of all the outside forces pushing her this way and that, but she found her voice was suddenly waterlogged.

"Why didn't you tell me, Poppy?" he eventually asked, focusing on the nurse. "Why didn't you tell me about the nightmare before I came back here?"

Poppy rubbed her eyes wearily before looking at Severus. "I didn't know the dream featured you, Severus. As it was, I assumed it would be for the best if Hermione had someone nearby."

Severus stared at Poppy for a second and then nodded curtly.

"I trust you'll be able to find her something?" he said without bothering to look at Hermione.

Hermione bit her lip to keep it from trembling. She knew that she had hurt him, but she had hoped he would talk to her, tell her how he felt instead of simply kicking her out like a wayward child. She could admit she'd had a childish reaction to her nightmare, but the transition between the dream and reality had blurred edges at best. Holding that against her wasn't fair.

Poppy smiled sadly looking at both of them in turn. "Of course. Pack a change of clothes, and then come through the Floo, dear. I'll go make up your bed."

Poppy then hustled away through the Floo connection leaving Hermione and Severus standing there awkwardly, each very aware of the others' presence. Hermione ducked her head and went to pack, noting that Severus did not follow.

When she was finished, she came out to find Severus standing by the fireplace, watching the flames as if enchanted.

She still wasn't sure what to say, though she felt as though something needed to be said. She felt the urge to apologize, but refused to do so until he could see and treat her as an adult.

"You'll be happy to know that Lucius was taken into Auror custody tonight," Severus said conversationally without looking up from the flames. "They're holding him at the Ministry until his trial tomorrow afternoon. If you want to be sure of his conviction, I suggest you add your testimony personally."

Hermione nodded in understanding. "I'll be there, then. Will you be escorting me?"

Severus looked up at her at that. "If you wish it."

She nodded fractionally. "I... Yes. I would."

For a split second, Hermione thought she saw hope in his eyes, but the next instant he was looking even more weary than he had been.

"The trial begins at three. I will collect you from your last class."

She nodded again. "Thank you." She turned toward the fireplace and took a handful of powder from the pot Severus held out for her. Clutching it in her hand, she stared at the flames in much the same way Snape had been, her mind and heart whirling.

Without looking at him, she murmured, "Goodnight, Severus," before calling out for the hospital wing and disappearing.

Author's Notes: Gild (v): 1 : to overlay with or as if with a thin covering of gold

2 a: to give money to b: to give an attractive but often deceptive appearance to c archaic: to make bloody

Never fear. Believe it or not, this is a big step forward for both of them.

And as always, a big thank you to Southern for betaing this mess! Any mistakes are my own, especially as I fiddled with this afterwards.

Southern's Notes: I am happy to know this is a step forward. Eerie nightmares, those. I feel like telling Poppy to give her a draught of some kind to let her sleep in peace. I can't help but to feel sorry for Snape in all of this. Hopefully, he'll learn to voice what he's thinking soon so that she can stop making guesses.