Three

A/N:Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Thanks as ever to Septentrion for the beta.

The blood lust was fading and the nausea harder to suppress, but Hermione continued to feed, holding Severus close long after he'd lost consciousness, listening for the moment his fading heart beat would finally stop. Only then did she raise her head from his neck, stomach heaving as she spat out the blood she'd managed not to swallow, and gently lower his drained body to the floor.

She paused a moment to close his horror filled eyes, gather her thoughts and wonder if it wouldn't be kinder to just let nature take its course, leave him pass over in peace?

~ * ~

But she'd promised. And, if she was honest, having someone else around who was like her was not an unwelcome prospect. Selfish, perhaps, but...

'Impossible man.'

In one fluid movement, Hermione bit into her wrist and pressed the open wound to Severus' mouth.

A few drops only.

No point in returning the poison she'd sucked out of him.

He'd need clean blood to recover, of course, but this was obligatory. This was Ritual: the Blood Rite.

Pushing her finger past his unresponsive lips, she rubbed the blood into his gums.

'Come on, Snape,' she murmured. 'You've got to want it.'

~ * ~

He had a choice...crawl to the distant light or stay put, in this comfortable, pain free, velvety blackness. Voices pleaded, calling out to him, as the light pulled further away.

Good.

Good riddance. This was where he had always felt most at ease, anyway.

Alone.

In the dark.

Safe.

Severus didn't expect this peace to last, and so wasn't surprised when the first tendrils of awareness crept back into his body.

Something hot. Metallic.

More.

But it was gone, and in its place a hunger in his belly like he'd never known.

Hurts.

In the distance, someone was retching.

~ * ~

Hermione's head was spinning, the room swimming in and out of focus as she crawled, fumbling for her bag. There was blood everywhere, but that was the least of her problems.

Can't... reach.

This was it. They were both done for.

A squeaky voice asked anxiously: 'Miss Hermyvamp is needing Tillie's help?'

With the last of her strength, Hermione pointed a shaky finger at the bag. 'Blood... in there... Warm one... and give it me.'

The elf moved quickly and was soon holding a blood pack to Hermione's lips. She drank gratefully.

That had been far too close for comfort.

~ * ~

'Miss Hermyvamp be helping Headmaster Snape, now?' Tillie asked, wringing her hands.

Hermione nodded as she pushed herself up from the floor. 'Would you warm another unit for me please?' She was still feeling a bit wobbly, to tell the truth, which Tillie's elf antenna had obviously noticed.

'No,' Hermione barked, as the elf decided to take matters into her own hands. 'Don't get too close. He's very hungry at the moment.' She held out her hand as Tillie leapt away like a scalded Kneazle. 'I'll do it. If you want to help, Tillie, you can clean up the mess.'

~ * ~

With Severus' head supported in the crook of her elbow, Hermione eased the pack's narrow neck past his lips. This time, the sucking reflex kicked in, Severus drinking the bag dry in minutes, much to her relief. It looked like he was going to pull through.

Tillie passed the second, ready-warmed pack to Hermione as Severus finished the first. While he suckled, Hermione watched, fascinated, as the wound on his neck began to knit together and heal over. She glanced down the length of his body, noting the subtle changes of the Transformation. By the fourth bag, it was complete.

~ * ~

He still couldn't move, but he could taste... Oh, gods, yes... And the sticky, salty liquid slipping down his throat was satisfying the awful craving, easing the pain, filling him with its blessed warmth.

Hunger abating, Severus' perception of his circumstances began to improve. Sounds filtered in, close by at first:

'That was disgusting. I'm never doing that again. Ever.'

Rustling. Scratching. A mouse?

Then, further away: Thump-thump-thump-thump. The staccato rhythm of a thousand heartbeats: a cacophony from the teeming mass of life above and around him.

And odours. The blood of the young, the old. Creatures. Menstrual blood...

Food.

~ * ~

'H-how do you s-stand it?' His mouth seemed to be working, anyway.

His eyes, however, still felt like lead, and he didn't feel like attempting to open them quite yet. More sensory input was the last thing he needed.

Something... a hand?... brushed across his face.

'You get used to it,' said a female voice, laughing. 'You'll learn to tune it out, given time.'

Severus felt the person, female, Granger? shifting beneath his head. He was lying in her lap?

'That's the worst over,' Granger said. 'But now...'

Ah. 'The... purge...?'

'Yes, and I'm afraid it might be rather... uncomfortable.'

~ * ~

Severus almost snorted. Uncomfortable? What was a bit of discomfort after everything he'd been through?

'I don't know what effect your Mark...'

The spasm came out of nowhere, tearing through muscle, cracking his bones. He screamed as burning acid erupted through every pore, leaked from his eyes, nose, ears. And his arm. Fuck! His arm. If he'd had the ability to speak, he'd have begged Granger to cut it off, but as his jaws seemed to have fused together, all that came out was a strangled whimper. Nothing the Dark Lord had ever meted out could compare with this. Nothing.

~ * ~

Hermione could only watch helplessly as the Dark Mark rose upwards, stretching Severus' skin past the point where it must surely rip away from his arm, but instead it lifted free, hissing angrily before evaporating. She cast cooling and cleansing charms in quick succession as Severus curled up into a ball, shaking violently. He seemed too far gone to really notice the final indignity of his body voiding its contents, which was probably for the best.

'Better go now, Tillie,' Hermione said quietly. 'Before he wakes up. I don't think Professor Snape would appreciate anyone seeing him in this state...'

~ * ~

The hand was back, lightly raking the hair from his eyes.

'It's all right. It's over, now.'

Severus tried to speak, but his mouth felt funny. He ran his tongue around the inside experimentally, confirming his diagnosis with a trembling finger. 'My... theeth...'

'I see no difference.'

What? What the hell was she talking about, and why was she laughing so hysterically? Of course there was a bloody difference! He hadn't had two needle-sharp incisors before, for a start. Fuming, Severus looked up to give Hermione a piece of his mind, only to find the words sticking in his throat.

~ * ~

Severus could only stare dumbly at the creature who was both his salvation and damnation. Such beauty. Such perfection. How had he never noticed it before?

'My... lady,' he croaked, scrambling awkwardly to his knees. 'I am forever in your debt. Whatever it is you require of me, I will gladly do.'

Her smile faded, and it seemed to Severus that the sun had gone in, but then she brushed his cheek gently, sending a shiver down his spine.

'It's just the Thrall,' Hermione whispered. 'I feel it too, but don't worry. I'll release you after...'

What? 'NO. Please... don't.'

~ * ~

It was their blood bond; logically, Hermione knew that. But it didn't make her any less immune to its effect. She contemplated her acolyte with new interest: his now flawless skin, his thin, wiry body, his cock standing proud between his legs, and was tempted to keep him just as he was.

He was looking at her expectantly, awaiting her command, and her heart swelled with pride. This was her creation: completely and unequivocally hers, to do with as she pleased. Take him as a mate, even, should she wish. An enticing idea. And, yet... she didn't want a slave.

~ * ~

'Give me your hands, Severus,' Hermione said, extending hers. He took them obediently. 'I require an oath...'

'Anything, my lady.'

'Swear you will never kill nor harm any human, or other sentient being, on pain of extinction.'

'I swear it.' Bowing over Hermione's hands in the ancient gesture of fealty, Severus touched each in turn with his lips.

Oh... 'Th-then I... I release you from all other bindings. You're free to... to do as you please.'

'You don't... want me?'

Hermione knelt beside him as, face hidden behind a curtain of hair, he pulled away. 'Yes, Severus. Yes, I do.'

~ * ~

'Listen to me,' Hermione continued as Severus scrabbled for his clothes. 'We'll always share a blood connection, but I won't deny you your right to choose your own path.' She reached out, tentatively touching his shoulder. He paused. 'You could go it alone, but think what we could accomplish together. Join me when I leave. Please. You can't stay here, after all.'

When he didn't reply, Hermione moved to stand.

'Alright. I'll leave you to it, then. Goodnight. Professor.'

'Stay.'

It was a voice full of authority. A voice she hadn't heard in ages. His old voice.

Hermione smiled. 'Gladly.'

~ * ~

Many years later...

'What'll it be?'

The Red Lion was heaving, the barmaid rushed off her feet. Full of strangers. Alien hunters, no doubt. The bearded old bloke was dithering. Not what she needed.

'Pint of lager, please.' The old man adjusted his glasses. Strange, old-fashioned things, but his eyes... 'Been some strange goings-on around here, or so I've heard.'

The barmaid leaned on the pump and snorted. 'Been "strange goings-on" for as long as I can remember. Good for tourism, though, I suppose.' She shrugged as she put the glass down on the bar. 'That'll be fifteen pounds, please.'

~ * ~

Taking out his wallet, the man asked casually,' Do you happen to know who lives in that old house up on the hill, above the town?'

The girl's eyes widened. 'No. And I don't want to. Do you know my dog won't go near the place. Howls like a banshee, he does...'

The old man supped his pint, nodding occasionally as the barmaid regaled him with colourful tales of the locality.

'... and old Sarah, over there, swears he hasn't aged a day since she were a lass, and... has anyone ever told you that you have the most amazing eyes...'

~ * ~

Outside the pub, Ron was waiting. 'Well?'

'It's worse than we thought,' said Harry, palming his wand. 'We need a mass Obliviate. They're getting careless.'

Ron grinned. 'Well, you know Hermione when she gets her teeth into something.'

The old friends looked at each other and laughed.

'Will you tell them to tone it down, or will I?' Ron asked.

'I'll do it,' replied Harry. 'You organise the Obliviate team.'

Gazing up towards the old house, they shook their heads as a jet of red smoke erupted from the chimney. Harry sighed. Those two would be the death of him.

~ * END * ~