A Blurring Of The Edges

Snape stood quietly in the shadow of the doorway and watched as Hermione Granger brewed her umpteenth batch of potions in his lab. He thrilled at the sight of her, his breath catching in his throat as she glanced up at him and smiled warily. After a month as his apprentice, Granger was still not quite sure of him.

His body ached for her, but as far as the flesh was willing, his spirit was still strong and The Calling had not overtaken him thus far. He hoped fervently that she would come to appreciate him before it came to that, but there was no telling when the urge might become too much, or how exactly it would manifest. He would never forgive himself if he harmed her, or worse, forced himself upon her like a Death Eater at a revel.

He straightened his robes carefully as he entered the room, and then walked up to the workbench beside her to look at her potion.

'Finished, Granger?'

'Almost, sir. I just need to add the porcupine quills once I've taken the cauldron off the fire,' she replied. A length of hair escaped the tight band that held her curls from her face. Without thinking, Snape lifted it and tucked it behind her ear. Hermione paused and looked up at him in surprise.

'Thank you, sir,' she whispered.

Severus frowned and berated himself inwardly for being so forward. 'You could have ruined a whole batch of boil cure potion if even one hair had fallen into the cauldron,' he said coldly. 'Find more adequate ways to control it.'

He looked down his nose at her, ignored her flushed face and spun on his heel to walk back towards the door. He was almost there, with a mind to slam it hard behind him to cover his own embarrassment, when a searing pain hit him squarely between his eyes and travelled down to his chest.

'Fuck!' he gasped. He clutched at his robes and almost doubled over in pain.

'Professor!' Granger's panicked voice was somewhere behind him, but he could hardly breathe to answer as the pain became worse and he crumpled slowly to the floor.

Hermione flicked her wand hastily at the cauldron, turning out the flame and casting a stasis charm, and ran to where the Professor now lay on the floor. His eyes were closed and he was clutching at his chest in obvious pain. His face was deathly white, and perspiration beaded his brow and top lip. His breathing was laboured, and Hermione wondered if wizards could suffer from cardiac arrest in the same way as Muggles.

'Professor Snape!' She shook his arm carefully but there was no response. 'Oh, gods...'

She ran into the Professor's private quarters for the first time, but didn't bother to look around. Her subconscious did make a note of the large overcrowded bookshelf beside the fireplace to consider more fully later, but right now she had more urgent business. Throwing a handful of Floo powder into the grate, she immediately called for Professor Dumbledore.

Dumbledore almost leapt through the flames at Hermione's message, and she gratefully stepped aside and let him hastily lead the way back to the lab, where he dropped to his knees beside Severus.

'My boy,' he said quietly. 'What has happened to you?' He lifted Severus's hand carefully.

To Hermione's relief, Professor Snape opened his eyes and stared at Dumbledore with what looked like fear. He took a slow, obviously painful breath.

'Nikolai is dead,' he whispered.

***

The hospital wing was almost empty. In a bed nearest to Madam Pomfrey's office, Severus lay sleeping, curtained off from the prying eyes of the students who had yet to hear of the dramatic events of the day. Albus Dumbledore sat beside him and watched his breathing, shallow but even, thanks to a range of potions, and he pondered just how many times he had sat at his bedside in the past. This time was so very different. This time, Severus was under a death sentence, unless they acted to stop it. It seemed inevitable to Dumbledore that Hermione Granger would need to be taken into their confidence, but how the information would affect the girl worried him.

It hadn't escaped Dumbledore's notice that Hermione had an admiration for Severus Snape. In the weeks following her successful appointment, he had observed their interactions closely. Severus treated her with respect and was more polite to her than anyone else at the top table, including himself. There was little conversation between them, but plenty of eye contact. Hermione smiled at Severus quite often, and on one occasion it had been reciprocated, much to Albus's amusement. He was sure that Severus hadn't even been aware of it.

In all of her years at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger had never put herself first. She had spent her most important school years aiding Harry Potter, and Dumbledore was in absolutely no doubt that without her, the war would have ended differently. They owed her much, and yet all he could have hoped for her was the opportunity of a normal life and the chance to reach her potential as a talented, vibrant and intelligent witch. Now, it would seem, he would have to put a potential road block in her way, for there was no doubt in his mind that Hermione would yet again sacrifice her own wants and needs for another.

Dumbledore's eyes closed and he was almost snoozing in the chair when he heard light footsteps approach.

'Professor?' Hermione called softly.

Dumbledore stepped through the curtains and placed a kind hand on Hermione's shoulder. 'Severus is sleeping, Miss Granger, but he will be well, I assure you.'

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes wide and slightly red. He realised she had been crying and had probably been on her own since he and Poppy had removed Severus from the dungeon, and he felt suddenly annoyed with himself for not even thinking of her. It was something Severus had accused him of many times during the war, not considering the needs of others. 'There are more people fighting the war than Harry bloody Potter!' he had said.

'What happened, sir? Was it a heart attack?' Hermione bit her lower lip to stop it from trembling.

'No, not a heart attack, Miss Granger. Let's have some tea, shall we?' Albus placed his arm around Hermione's thin shoulders and guided her to his office.

***

Hermione felt under-dressed as she sat opposite Dumbledore in her jeans and pink turtleneck jumper. His robes that day were lime green and purple, but the vivid colours contrasted sharply with his sombre mood. For all his protestations that Professor Snape would be well, Hermione could see that he was worried. She sipped her cup of tea thoughtfully and then took the bull by the horns.

'What is wrong with Professor Snape, sir?'

She spoke clearly and with authority, as if addressing Ron or Harry. Dumbledore seemed to realise that Hermione Granger was not a child any longer, and his eyes met hers gravely.

'Miss Granger, I have a tale to tell that is not mine, and Severus will likely be angry with us both when he knows what I have shared. Nevertheless, I feel there is no option but to tell you.' Dumbledore clasped his hands together and sat forwards, resting his elbows on his desk.

'Miss Granger,' he started. 'Hermione... What do you know of the Strigoi?'

Hermione looked at Dumbledore over the lip of her cup, and her quick mind began to join a few dots. There were times Professor Snape was paler than usual. He hardly ate his food, picking at it and pushing it around his plate. He could appear in corridors and hallways as if he had just silently Apparated there. Then there were the vials of fresh blood in the store of the lab. Hermione had asked him about it once and been told it was his private stock for his own research purposes, but the supply went down each week, and as far as Hermione could tell, Professor Snape had not been brewing or doing any research that she had noticed.

'Professor Snape is a vampire...' She gasped with sudden realisation.

'Not in the mythical, story-book sense, you understand. Severus's father was Strigoi, but his mother was a witch. His physiology is unique. It's really quite fascinating...' Dumbledore smiled sadly.

'So why is he sick? Does he need some blood?' Hermione frowned. She had read a little about vampires in the library, but it was only basic information. She knew enough to know they didn't go around biting people's necks whenever they felt like it, provided there was a source of blood for food. Most modern vampires would have a stock like Professor Snape's.

'Alas, Severus's case is complex. He is the very last of his line, Hermione. His Uncle Nikolai died at around the time he collapsed in the lab. His pain was caused by Nikolai's soul taking up residence within his body. He will be able to function almost normally after a few days rest, I believe.'

Hermione stared at Dumbledore and tried to take in what he was saying. Surely a body couldn't accommodate two souls for any length of time? It would be exhausting. She wondered which soul would be dominant, and if the new soul could affect Snape's personality. She was just getting used to him as he was. She didn't think she could bear a change again.

'What will happen to Professor Snape, sir? Will his soul be the dominant one? I don't know how a body could cope with that physically,' she mused out loud.

'That is where the problem lies, I am afraid. Professor Snape is strong, but even so, his physical body will only be able to accommodate two souls for about a year.' Dumbledore looked away. 'Then he will die.'

Hermione could feel tears in her eyes. She loved being the Potion master's apprentice, and she had grown to like Professor Snape, despite his moods and occasionally sharp tongue.

'No!' she snapped vehemently. 'There has to be some way of saving him. Otherwise, the whole Strigoi line would have died out before now.' Her eyes blazed brightly as she fought not to cry.

'Astute as always, Miss Granger. There is only one way to save Severus, but it is unlikely to be a success.' Dumbledore closed his eyes and clasped his hands in his lap firmly.

'What is it, Headmaster? If there is a way, then we have to do it!' Hermione couldn't understand Dumbledore's reluctance.

Dumbledore opened his eyes, and Hermione was surprised that he looked as if he may weep.

'Severus would need to have a child, Hermione. An empty vessel, if you will, in which the second soul could live. It would be the only way.'

Hermione let out a slow breath. Professor Snape wasn't married, and she didn't think he had a girlfriend, because he was always in the castle. He never had female visitors, and the fact that he was so damn uptight was a pretty good clue that he wasn't having sex on a regular basis. There was little probability he would be having a child any time soon. Hermione felt a lump in her throat and brushed away an errant tear.

Dumbledore shifted in his seat and sighed softly. 'I know, Hermione. It seems as impossible as a Muggle catching sight of the faeries at the bottom of the garden, I'm afraid.'

Hermione's eyes widened as she looked at him. 'I saw faeries in my garden when I was six years old,' she whispered.