Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Game, Set, and Match....

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"Finite Incantatum," Hermione whispered in the unnatural silence of the Muffliato's spell.

Immediately, she was plunged back into the world of Centre Court's excited chatter and enthusiastic cheering. She could hear the umpire call the score and the scurry of tennis shoes on the now somewhat scruffy grass below as the ball boys and girls made their preparations for the next game.

Lucius winced at the suddenly clamour, and Nott swore in surprise.

Hermione did not care. She was searching out Severus' eyes across lines of other spectators in the Royal Box.

***

The strawberry tasted sour and sweet on his tongue, and he felt slightly nauseous from its unpleasant metallic tang. He gagged involuntarily, but eventually swallowed the sickly pulp.

His skin was so sensitive. As he breathed, the scar tissue around his neck rubbed uncomfortably on the crisp linen of his shirt. He was aware of his surroundings, but only peripherally. Everything was distorted, as if he were floating deep underwater. He blinked the sting of tears from his eyes.

But Draco's caress anchored him, soothed him. He closed his eyes. His heart swelled with the feeling of contentment that enveloped him.

Draco was stroking his hand gently, insistently. "You must listen, Severus," the boy murmured. Severus would have laughed if he could have, for how could he not listen to his beloved, his master, his beautiful Draco?

"You must do something for me, Severus," Draco continued, running his fingers lightly up his forearm, softly caressing the ridges of his scars. The pleasure of it was almost too much for Severus. He sucked in his breath through his teeth in ragged gasps and shivered in anticipation.

"The game is coming to an end, and then we shall both turn around," Draco whispered. "Are you ready?"

Something slipped into his hand. It was cold and smooth. Reflexively, Severus gripped it.

Magic flared across his senses.

My wand, he thought.

***

Draco lifted his chin arrogantly and placed a proprietorial hand on Severus' bare forearm. Severus stood beside him, his eyes lowered. He appeared to be shaking slightly.

"What have you done to him?" Hermione demanded, shocked by Severus' appearance.

***

Draco's hand on his arm seemed to burn through his skin. Severus embraced the sharp pain of it with gratitude, trembling under his touch.

"There she is, Severus." Draco mockingly inclined his head towards Hermione . "There's the witch who stands in the way of our happiness together."

Severus felt a deep anger rising, felt the emotions course through him, like poison. He could not quite focus on her face, but he could still see her. She had made his Draco unhappy, and Draco's unhappiness could not be borne.

His hand tightened on the wand.

***

Lucius shrugged. "Why nothing, my dear girl. Draco has merely reminded him of where his loyalties truly lie."

Hermione searched Severus' features for any sign of her lover's intentions. Strands of dark hair had fallen across his face, making it harder to read his features. He stood facing her, quivering like a bow under tension.

His eyes, usually his most expressive feature, seemed unfocused and curiously blank. What is happening to him? She hoped for anything, a sneer, the flick of his hair, even a sardonic eyebrow. Nothing.

Her sense of worry began to grow.

"As you see, my dear," Lucius added smugly, "He is quite under Draco's thrall."

Draco nodded once towards them contemptuously.

"Now, dear," Lucius added impatiently. "Your support in return for Severus' attentions. Do we have an accord?"

She saw Draco turn his head and whisper something in Severus' ear.

Severus' body stiffened further, and his shoulders hunched. She could see the muscles flexing in his bare forearms. Hermione flinched at the shift in his body language. Always an imposing figure, Severus was beginning to frighten her.

Lucius cleared his throat. "I'll take your silence as consent, then," he said dryly. "Very well," he added and nodded theatrically to his son.

Nothing happened for a moment, and then the smile on Draco's face twisted into something else, and he cocked his head on one side.

Hermione saw him mutter something else to Severus and watched in slowly dawning horror as the wand in Severus' hand slowly rose to point directly at her.

***

Some of the spectators were beginning to notice them, but Draco flicked his hand, and the stupid Muggles who had been nudging each other and pointing at the peculiar behaviour of the tall, long-haired man in the second row, suddenly appeared to lose interest and turned away.

"That's it, my darling," Draco whispered in the delicate shell of Severus' ear, the excitement and anticipation rising in his voice. Years of planning, he thought, and here we are. Perfect... perfect!

***

"What the fuck is Snape doing?" Lucius' voice had an edge of panic to it.

"It's Iago," Nott answered him, and she felt him shiver.

Keeping her voice deliberately calm and slow, despite the anxiety in her chest, she said, "He's pointing his wand directly at me. What's Iago, Theodore?"

Nott was shaking. "It's a drug. A Muggle potion. It enhances the susceptibility of a subject to suggestion."

"Mind control?" Hermione shot back, "Like the Imperious?"

Nott shook his head, his eyes were wide, and his face blanched of all colour. "I... it's undetectable. Synthetic and fast acting... But it's also very quick to dissipate from the human system, so Aurors can't spot it."

Lucius flapped his hands impatiently. "That's not the point," he snapped. "Draco didn't say anything about using this Iago drug. What is my son going to do with it?"

"Anything he wants to," Nott replied.

***

He choked on his emotions, tried to force his thoughts back into a coherent pattern. Before him, he could see his wand hand trembling. What is wrong? Why can't I think properly? He felt sweat dribble down his skin, pooling uncomfortably in the small of his back.

Draco was whispering in his ear again, urging him onwards... to cast the curse, to say the words and mean them. This was the only way that Severus could atone, how he could make amends for his betrayal of Draco and his family, of the Dark Lord and his ambitions. Killing her would show the world that the followers of Dark magic could not be contained, could not be Rehabilitated, could not be neutered like fucking dogs.

"... And she's a bitch...," Draco's voice was soft and insinuating. "She cast you off for another man. There he is, right next to her...."

Severus saw Theodore Nott shaking, terrified beyond measure.

Why is Nott so frightened? he asked himself. Then he remembered Draco's explanation, and he smiled in satisfaction, his hand steadying. He will do it. He'd done it before, after all....

But suddenly he remembered the Tower, the smell of burning hexes and the savage battle below, the coppery taste of blood on his tongue from where he had bitten the inside of his cheek. Quick memories followed the first: Dumbledore's entreaty, reaching deep within himself for the intent to cast the darkest of the Unforgiveables, the numbness in his hand as he raised his wand, the horrible, rippling sensation in his body as he cast the Killing Curse.

The look of surprise on the old man's face as he fell.

"Avada Kedavra," whispered Draco urgently. "Do it, Severus!" And Snape felt the order transmit to his very bones.

But something wasn't right. He couldn't cast the curse.

Draco's voice grated on his nerves, the harmonics jarring and dissonant. He blinked, disconcerted. What the hell am I doing? he thought, confused.

"Look at her, Severus," Draco urged, clearly frustrated by his puppet's inaction. "Look at her, fucking Mudblood whore! Do it!"

His heart lurched. He stared at her, his eyes snapping into focus at Draco's command. There was something familiar about her... something... precious to him. If he could only think...

Draco's fingers dug into his arm. "What are you waiting for?" the boy hissed, snapping Severus back into focus.

Severus scowled, staring at Hermione's twisted body. She was half-sprawled over Nott, gaping across at him in fearful shock.

He had to know. He needed the intent to cast the curse. He needed it!

Her eyes locked onto his. It was all he required.

Legilimens! he thought with all his might.

***

"Draco, no!" shouted Lucius, raising his cane defensively, as Severus' thoughts exploded into her consciousness.

She rocked backwards under his fierce onslaught, barging Nott sideways and scrabbling to pull her wand free from her bag as she felt Severus bludgeon into her thoughts.

***

He grabbed at her memories ruthlessly, yanking at images from her thoughts with seemingly no regard for the pain which such actions would bring. He ripped open her feelings for him, those that lay so close to the front of her consciousness, splaying her insecurities and fears wide open with bestial intensity, testing them, tasting them. Her tentative regard, deepening to something else, her hopes for a future together with him, her hurt at their stupid argument over Malfoy's invitation, and his refusal to resolve their differences... the crushing sense of betrayal and loss she had felt as she saw him with Draco...

He rocked backwards mentally in surprise. She does care for me, then...?

***

The temporary respite was all Hermione needed.

Instinctively, she shoved back, pushing her Occlumency shields up and slamming the force of her will against his disorganised assault.

After a few heart stopping moments of disorientation, as she forced her way into those memories that were uppermost in his mind, she found herself standing at the top of the Astronomy Tower. The wind was howling about them, and muffled sounds of explosions echoed from deep below the stones. It was dark, only the moon and starlight illuminated the harsh faces of her companions. Bellatrix's features were contorted into hateful enthusiasm, she could hear Greyback snarling behind her, and Draco was standing still, his face a waxen mask of terror.

"Severus... please," she heard Albus say and looked into the eyes of the old man, rheumy but bright, sympathetic but resolute. She felt sick to her stomach as she listened to Dumbledore plead with Snape, reminding him of his duty, what he had sworn to do all those months ago in the old man's office.

She felt herself dig deeply, stabbing her wand towards him, reaching for the will, the dark intent that she needed to cast the killing curse.

But as she did so, Dumbledore's face began to shift and change... Hermione's vision blurred and brightened, resolving from the dark tumult of the Astronomy Tower to a warm June day at Wimbledon. Before her eyes, the old man grew younger, his features softening into Hermione's own, as she looked at herself, sprawled terrified before her.

Still within his thoughts, Hermione felt Snape's body freeze, unable to move or fulfil Draco's wishes.

She heard Draco's vicious expletive, and then Snape's wand was jerked abruptly from her unresisting fingers.

Is he trying to cast Avada Kedavra at me? she thought, terrified.

Hermione wrenched herself back from Snape's thoughts just in time to see Draco's left hand thrust forward holding Severus' wand, his lips contorted as he opened his mouth to speak, hatred evident in his spiteful lunge towards her...

"Avada K..."

"Praetegere!" Lucius shouted beside her, and the last thing Hermione saw was the flash of a spell cast before she lost consciousness.

***

She was lying down on something soft and being trampled by hippogriffs. That was the only possible explanation.

No, she thought, Manticores.

No, she corrected herself again, wincing as more pain fed into her nervous system, Quintapeds.

She moved her shoulders slightly and groaned. This was almost as bad as the Cruciatus.

The thought brought her up cold, and she froze, not daring to breathe, the events of the last few hours suddenly forcing themselves into her thoughts.

Where am I? What...?

She made to move again, tensing against the pain from her muscles.

Then a cool hand with long fingers slid across her forehead and into her hair.

"Shhhh, lie quietly, you silly girl," a deep, steady voice commanded gently.

Her heart leapt. "Severus...," she groaned, but stilled under his touch, cracking her eyelids open into the dimmed artificial lighting in the room.

"You are in the Spell Damage Ward of St Mungo's Hospital," Snape murmured quietly. "Temporarily," he added as she gasped in concern, her eyes opening wider.

"What ha..." Her voice sounded rough. Her throat was sore.

"You caught the backlash from Lucius' parry of a badly cast Killing Curse," he explained. "As did Mister Nott and three hapless Muggles who got in the way."

"Wh...?" she managed.

Severus' eyebrows raised. "Where are they?" he asked, and she tried to nod. "Not here. The Muggles are in an isolation ward, recovering from what they are being told is a nasty manifestation of sunstroke."

"Nott is in the Aurors' custody along with Lucius and Draco." His voice shook a little as he spat the names out. "So much for Rehabilitation."

Hermione moved her hand slowly on the bedcovers, her fingers opening painfully under her grimly determined direction.

She felt his fingers slowly interlace with hers.

"Hermione, I..."

"Shhhh." She squeezed his hand. "I know about the drug. It wasn't your fault."

She felt his relief in the way he slumped slightly above her.

"Are you okay?" she whispered, squinting up at him, seeing the shadows crossing his gaunt face, partly shielded by the thick fall of black hair. It was only then that she realised he was wearing a hospital gown himself. She lifted her eyebrows in a silent question.

He shrugged. "They'll find me eventually," he commented dryly. "The Healers want to take my temperature every half an hour and stick their wands into places that should not have wands stuck into. Even the idiot Potter might put two and two together and deduce that I would find my way here."

"Harry? Why?" she croaked.

He sighed. "The Auror Department have just completed their largest ever Obliviate. Once they have congratulated themselves on persuading all the spectators that Draco's curse was a particularly bright camera flash and duping millions of goggle-eyed Muggles watching the whole thing on television that what they saw was the over-exuberant celebration of a minor celebrity from Britain's Got Talent, they will no doubt wish to speak with me further concerning Draco, Narcissa, and Lucius' roles in this... fiasco."

She nodded. "And me too, I suppose."

"Mmmmm," he agreed and stroked her forehead again.

Her eyelids fluttered closed. They remained like that for a time, breathing together.

"Tis within ourselves that we are thus and thus*," she said softly.

"What?"

"You could never have hurt me," she whispered so quietly that she could barely hear herself. "It's not in your nature. I saw your thoughts."

"Foolish woman," he murmured back and stroked her hair once more. "Of course not. After all, for she has eyes and chose me*."

She chuckled, tightening her hold on his fingers.

... And all was still.

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* Both Severus and Hermione are both quoting from Othello, naturally. *Rolls eyes*....

A/N: This story would have been impossible to produce without the aid of beaweasley2 and Clairvoyant. Thank you so much, ladies! It goes without saying that I don't own these characters; they are the intellectual property of JK Rowling, and I make no money from them.

This story is the result of a prompt from the lovely HBAR, who read and reviewed every chapter of my story Anima Mea over one week. She requested the following: Severus and Hermione are a relatively new couple. Lucius and Draco are both single, one interested in Severus, the other interested in Hermione. They put their heads together and plan a way to each charm their half of the couple away from their current relationship and into their arms. Hermione quickly notices that something is up, but Severus is completely oblivious to their advances and thinks she is imagining things.

I hope that I have covered most of the challenge, although I probably did it in a way that she wasn't quite expecting....

Happy New Year, everyone. Let's hope it's a good one. Pxx

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