Libri Erupto

Disclaimer: It all belongs to JKR. I'm only paying homage.

AN: A huge thanks, as always, to Ariadne.

It is a well known fact that without the use of one sense the others heighten to take its place. Combine complete darkness with the utterly terrifying sound of a predator in the dark, and the mind reverts to its most primal instincts. Hermione knew this; however, no textbook can fully prepare you for reality.

She fought her rising panic, firmly shoving those instincts aside, hoping for bravery to take over. She could feel the crackle of magic in the air, traveling along her wand, as if it were measuring her, taking readings. Her mind was calculating her distance from the last disturbing movement, the source, the level of its violence, analyzing the smell of something that knows no morals and answers to no one. Remembering Severus' words, she knew this was something that would easily inspire fascination one moment and kill the next.

Hermione stood with her back to the door, her hand twisted behind her back, clutching the doorknob. Every time she moved it, she felt an immutable force turn it back, holding the latch in place. It teased her by opening the door, allowing a slight crack of precious light in before closing again. She almost didn't want that light, as it would reveal just how close the haze was coming. Steeling herself, she lit her wand. To her horror, the light had almost no effect, being only bright enough to light the area around her face. She shook her wand and cast again, hoping this was just a mistake; it shouldn't matter where she was, nothing should be blocking her magic, unless...

With each attempt, the circular area shrank further. The small amount of light took on a dull color as if it were fighting a losing battle. It flickered, dimmed to a yellowish fog, then extinguished.

Something was coming towards her from the right, something she could not see, only sense. Hermione moved away from the door, feeling along the opposite wall, running her hands over the shelves, trying not to cringe as the books shoved against her hands violently. She bumped into something at waist level. It was the table, the corner disappearing into the bookcase where it had rammed itself.

Whatever senses were in control told her in an alarmed voice to get up high – now.

She complied, climbing back onto the table, standing, readying herself.

Silence. The feeling of a presence. Nothing more.

Suddenly, she heard a methodical snapping of metal. A straining sound, then a groan as the links failed, the force releasing the chains to strike anything in their path. The sounds of books hitting the floor with a thud, fluttering pages, dragging, shuffling, and perhaps worst, low voices.

She tried again, frantically muttering "Lumos." Finally, her memory admonished her and told her to look up. The lantern. She cursed herself and lit the ancient lamp, not bothering to open the door as the glass was broken anyway. The room came to life and she flinched, almost dropping her wand. All of the books on one wall had broken free and were throwing themselves off the shelves. She turned in time to duck one that had flung itself at her, snapping its cover furiously. It would have been comical if the book didn't have a violently red aura around it and weren't exuding the faint sound of screaming fury.

How terrible would it be to be killed by books? she thought ironically as she kicked another snarling book off the table. Another part of her mind knew that if she survived, Severus would kill her. The fact that she came in there was one thing, but to essentially destroy the place was another. She had so far refused to call for him, telling herself that he wouldn't hear anyway, that she'd deal with this on her own.

But when the first book struck her, she shoved pride aside and started calling Severus' name. When the lantern tore out of the ceiling, tumbling along the bookcases and spilling fire on its way to crash on the floor, her calls escalated to screams.

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Severus felt hot light on his face, invading the darkness of his dreams, lightening first to auburn, then to rose. It began to burn, and he growled irritably, pulling a pillow over his head. But it was no use; he couldn't fall back to sleep, but did not want to move either. Being under the Cruciatus, even for a short time, caused every muscle to contract to the point of strain, something he was clearly not healthy enough for yet. Everything ached. Breathing was an exercise in all-encompassing, inescapable low-level pain. Anyone else would be horrified at the true extent of his condition, that remaining upright was a study in determination, that speaking was uncomfortable, and that yelling was painful to the point of nausea. It was not the first time, he told himself, and certainly wouldn't be the last.

His heart was beating far too fast for rest, as if something was wrong.

Everything is wrong. Choose your worry, Snape.

No, this was different. He was missing something. In his mind, there was a need – a calling. His name – it screamed across his field of thoughts like wildfire, startling him. Growing louder – not a dream. This was real.

No one should be able to do that to me, unless...

Suddenly, pain was the last thing on his mind.

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She could hear books bouncing off of each other, throwing shredded pages about the room. The smell of old musty parchment choked her, and the burning did nothing to improve the heaviness of the air. From her position, she could see them piling up around her as more chains broke free. Instinct told her that even though the presence was down there somewhere, she would be much safer under the table. She jumped down and crawled underneath, shoving what must have been the weaker books out of her way.

One book in particular was moving under the table towards her, opening and closing its heavy leather cover hungrily. A sickly green glow emanated from its pages and it was trailing something on the floor. Suddenly, it lunged towards her, opening wider and shooting green sparks. Hermione quickly cast a Stunner and watched as the book exploded upwards, splitting the mahogany table in a loud crack. As the table threatened to collapse, she turned and crawled towards the back of the room.

The books were burying her, their weight overwhelming. Her only option was to curl in a ball to keep a space of air as more books rained down and the flames rose.

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As soon as Severus entered the sitting room, he knew. He saw a chair lying haphazardly into the middle of the room, on its side. The library door glared at him, as if declaring that, yes, it did have her, and challenging him to do something about it.

She couldn't possibly have...

"Hermione!" he yelled, moving over to the wall. He ran his hand along the door. Cursing under his breath, he pulled on the doorknob, mentally berating himself for thinking that his warning would have been sufficient to keep her from her incessant need for knowledge.

Damn silly witch!

Severus stood back and attempted several different opening spells, all to no avail. He could hear Hermione calling his name, screaming it in both voice and his thoughts. He could feel her terror. The air... there was fire.

He pressed his head up against the door and shouted, "The door won't open! Stand back! I may have to blast it open!"

Severus tried all types of spells, which only resulted in singed furniture, wall and carpet.

The door remained unmoving, taunting him. The handle even moved on its own, slowly, deliberately, showing him it was in complete control.

Thoughts raced through his mind. What if she was hurt? Merlin knows what those books will do... This is all my fault! I knew she wouldn't be able to stay away...

When her screams stopped, Severus' heart threatened to beat out of his chest with panic. There was only one thing he hadn't tried.

Fighting fire with fire.

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Minerva had just passed through the gates after a trip to Hogsmeade. It felt good to get out of the castle after dealing with the Ministry for the past week, trying to keep the school open for the upcoming term. She was making her way up towards the castle, enjoying the sun on her face, when a window and part of the wall exploded out of where she knew Severus' rooms to be, showering the grounds with glass and stone. The glass glinted in the summer sun as it fell, as if it was a pleasant addition to what was, otherwise, a beautiful day.

Minerva hurried towards the castle, hoping that the two of them hadn't fought to the point of an all-out war.

Why can't there be just one day without chaos?

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Hermione was almost thankful for the weight of the books, since they partially shielded her from the smoke. She could hear flames feeding on parchment on the other side of the table. Soon, the air would become so choked with smoke that she would lose consciousness. Her voice had started to give out and, besides, Severus was behind two doors and asleep. There was no way he could hear her. She was thinking about trying to run for the door. See if the magic had subsided, had given up trying to kill her. When she tried to rise, though, she found that the weight was more than she thought, firmly pinning her on her side.

Suddenly, a tearing rage forced its way into her mind, screaming, rising up and slashing downward, disrupting the chaos. The presence in the room not only fled, it dissipated completely, removing the heavy weight from the atmosphere, raising it back up to a bearable level. The books around her ceased moving, frozen in what was either fear or awe.

The only sound was the crackle of burning parchment. Hermione had started to shove the topmost books off of her when it happened.

The door not only opened, it tore out a large section of the wall. Bright sunlight immediately flooded the room, illuminating the smoke in the air. The sudden rush of air swept stray pages upwards, some still in flames as they see-sawed and flipped over on the current.

Hermione saw Severus in the doorway, his wand raised, a haze drifting to the ground around him, dying out in smoke-like spirals. It would have been a positively mythical scene of heroism if it weren't for the fact he was only wearing a hastily thrown on bathrobe.

The expression on his face was unfathomable.

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"Hermione!" Severus called, the panic in his voice surprising him. Forgetting magic, pain, and his appearance, he climbed towards her over the mass of still-moving books. He dug, throwing books to the side, until she was able to sit up. Without taking his eyes off of her, he distractedly waved his hand, extinguishing the flames.

Severus leaned over her and took hold of her arms, hauling her up out of the pile. Without anything solid to stand on, they both had trouble balancing. Hermione held onto his fists where he had balled them up in her robes. She could feel him shaking. His bathrobe was splayed open to the waist and she could see his chest heaving. He wasn't breathing well at all, taking abnormally large gasps of air to recover from his shouting. Her mind randomly pointed out that only he could be so intimidating in a bathrobe and with wild hair. Astonishing. Hermione told herself to quit letting her eyes wander over his chest, wanting to reach out and apologize, leaving words aside, seeking forgiveness through touch.

"Severus, I'm sorry, I..." she started, but could see that his expression was changing. The words died on Hermione's lips for fear of triggering whatever he was about to say, and at what volume.

Severus straightened, his eyes wide with fury. He had no words to convey his utter disbelief at what she had done. "Just what in Merlin's name were you thinking? You could have been killed! I cannot fathom what was going through your brain to think that you could come in here and handle this!" Severus raged, raising his arms wide to encompass the destruction surrounding them.

She opened her mouth to offer some sort of explanation, but he cut her off leaning towards her, his voice bordering on vicious, "Do you have any idea of what is in these books? What they could have done? The spells in here are the darkest magic! Anything could've happened! How could you be so stupid?"

Immediately her defenses went up. "Stupid? STUPID?"

His eyes glinted, knowing he had her full attention. "Yes – stupid," he repeated, pronouncing the word slowly as if to leave no doubt. "Leave it to the know-it-all to almost get herself killed out of her own stupidity! Never mind the destruction to school property! Is there no end to your ego?"

Something snapped. She almost lost her balance, slipping when a book twitched under her. Incredibly, he took hold of her until she was steady in order to allow her to continue arguing uninterrupted. Hermione had expected anger. It would have worried her if he hadn't been angry, but this? "School property"? Was that what she was to him? Didn't he care about what she had just been through?

Her eyes flashed, and she snapped defensively, "Yes, I admit it, I was wrong to come in here – and I'm sorry! It's not like I meant for this to happen! But you, of all people, to speak of ego? You are the most difficult, stubborn, arrogant man that I have ever known! You think the sun rises and sets in your own personal universe and if somebody doesn't fit the mold of what you believe is correct, you brand them as either stupid or a know-it-all! For your information, the door was open!" She glared at him.

He advanced on her so fast she almost fell while stepping back. He reached out and gripped her arm tightly. They were only inches apart, screaming as if it were a mile. "I don't care if it was open! I don't care if they crawled into your lap and begged you to read them! I told you to not come in here, and no more than one day later you defy me! Look at this!" he yelled, trying to hold his bathrobe closed with his free hand and not fall in the process.

He ran out of breath, his body betraying him. He pressed her against the bookcase, then released her. Severus rested a hand on the table and placed his other around his ribs, regarding her with a mix of anger, pain, and disbelief.

In the shadows of his heart, relief rejoiced.

Hermione moved to stalk out of the room, but Severus countered, blocking her way.

"Move out of my way! If you don't let me by, I'll hex you in a way that would make even Voldemort cringe!" Hermione threatened, her face a deep crimson color.

"You must understand..." Severus said in a barely controlled voice, ignoring her wand pressed up against his bare chest.

"Oh, I understand! I understand perfectly! Do you even care what I've just been through? I had no intention for this to happen and all you care about is destruction to school property and defying you? How can you expect me to believe that you love me if you care more about these books than me!" Hermione snapped.

What little color occupied Severus' face deserted it. For a moment, he was beyond words. He reached out and leaned on the ruined table, gripping the edge. "You doubt me?" he asked viciously, shoving himself upright.

She shook her head, stunned into silence.

His breathing was jerking in fits, as if catching on something.

"How dare you."

Slowly, he raised his arm and pointed with his wand towards the gaping hole where the door once stood.

"Get out."

Hermione was startled at the change, his telling her to leave in a quiet voice was far worse than him blocking her, shouting. Hermione reached out slowly, wanting more than anything to let him know how sorry she was. She placed a hand on his shoulder, letting her hand travel to the lapel of his bathrobe, looking into his hard eyes, pleading with him to soften. It was there; he was wavering between rage and acceptance, stubbornly holding on, righteousness winning the battle.

"Severus, I..."

He pulled away violently and roared, "GET OUT!"