Creation

Chapter 5 – Creation

Mist was rising from the water in the moments just before dawn. An eerie stillness filled the air, void of the smallest twitter or the slightest croak. A shadow moved over the surface of the loch, settled in the very middle and slowly lifted, bringing the water with it to create a smooth altar. A second shadow parted from the trees nearby--a hooded figure, carrying the dangling form of a naked, young woman. Gliding across the water, he came to a stop and placed the unmoving form on the altar.

The eerie silence seemed to intensify as the man drew his wand and, in two swift strokes, cut both wrists of his subject, watching her blood colour the altar a glistening red.

The water began moving, circling the scarlet fountain, creating a vortex which slowly drew the woman down towards the bottom of the lake. Flames erupted around it, burning high towards the night sky as the wind fueled them. In the middle, the hooded man withdrew four phials, raising them to the sky.

"With this sacrifice, let the waters part at my hand."

A phial was opened, and blue liquid joined the water below, spreading out like poured ink and turning it a swirling black.

"With this sacrifice, let the wind blow in the direction of my will."

Another cork dislodged, and white mist soared towards the sky, turning the mist black and enveloping the scene in darkness only broken by the furious flames.

"With this sacrifice, make mountains move."

A third phial was poured into the vortex, joining the amassing pool of blood on the muddy bed, the girl's white face standing out in sharp contrast.

"With this sacrifice, I walk through fire with the will of the flames in my fist."

With a thundering roar, the flames rose to three times the man's height, as a fourth phial of deep gold was thrown into them. The waters swirled at a furious speed, the wind reaching the force of a hurricane and the bed of the loch itself seeming to convulse around the lifeless, still bleeding woman.

"Blood of the innocent I give you!" the man roared into the raging elements. "Power, I shall have in return! Through death, a greater one will arise, and you shall be the maker!" Reaching wide, the man threw both hands into the flames, gasping in pain as the energy soared through him, as the wind filled his lungs and as water and muddy earth climbed his legs.

"Sectumsempra!"

The man's chest was suddenly sliced open by invisible knives. Dark blood streamed down his body and splashed on the lifeless form below. Crying out in pain, he felt his life leave him, even as the dark power he'd conjured surged through his body. Letting out a searing, agonised cry, he tore his right hand from the fire's clutches and raised his wand.

"What was not, shall become.

For all time to come--family."

Red sparks shot out of the wand and hit the bleeding girl, drowning her in shimmering mist and lifting her up from the watery vortex. The body rose to meet him, hanging in the air before him as though suspended with invisible ropes. Shaking, Severus Snape took Hermione's bleeding wrists and slammed them to the pulsating welts on his chest. Fire surged through both bodies, bringing convulsions, cries and gasps as the blackness swirled and the red mist knitted their forms together.

Then, with a great crack of energy and a swooshing, sucking sound, the spell culminated, throwing the couple into the black vortex, lips coming together in a desperate kiss as the water closed around them.

And then there was again eerie stillness, as the first rays of dawn stroked the calm surface of the loch.

Hermione rose slowly to consciousness. Her face was wet. She opened her eyes and blinked as water flooded them. She felt nailed down, unable to move, as though another Basilisk had come by and turned her back into stone. Slowly, she reopened her eyes and saw darkness surrounding her. A shimmering light taunted somewhere far above, too far for her to ever reach. It was cold where she was--cold, dark and wet--and yet, she felt oddly comfortable. Something was moving inside her, filling her, creeping through every vessel and seeping into every cell in her body. She felt it, and she smiled. Strength--dark, intoxicating strength. She could not lift even a finger, but inside, she felt stronger than ever before. She caught a glimpse of her wrists, no longer bleeding but still displaying gaping wounds. Chanting an incantation in her mind, her eyes widened as the wounds began to close, seemingly of their own accord. The shock was short-lived, and her smile grew wider. Concentrating, she focused all her energy on lifting her right arm towards the light above her and felt immense pleasure when it twitched and obeyed. Not knowing how to, only that she had it in her, she raised her hand through the water and felt it part at her touch. Revelling in her new power and the fact that she was deep under water but still didn't seem to need to breathe, she rose slowly towards the light, parting the waters as she went.

Severus watched her as she broke the surface and proceeded to glide effortlessly towards the brink where he was sitting. Power seemed to emanate from her, and he got a brief flash of the first time he himself had felt immersed by the same force. The heady rush of feeling invincible. Exhilaration which, he knew, would soon give way to other impulses. He rose and walked towards her, extending a hand and letting his eyes wander appreciatively over her naked form.

"Welcome to the world, Hermione Snape." His voice was low and caressing. Her face split in a wide smile.

"Thank you, Severus. It seems a very promising one, so far."

Taking his hand, she rose from the water and followed him to a small tent nearby. The sun was setting over the trees as she stepped into a spacious suite, letting the plush carpet caress the underside of her feet. Without a word, she turned towards her hooded companion and pulled him down with her.

"You lied to me."

The remark cut through the shallow pants which filled the semi-darkness.

"I'm afraid you will have to be a bit more precise than that, Hermione," came the crisp reply. "I tell lies for a living, after all."

She turned towards him, propping her head up on one hand, and looked at him intently.

"You said that it would take me over a month to recover from this spell, but I've never felt better--or stronger. I'm ready to start working with you as a spy." She grinned and started drawing patterns on his chest with her free hand. Under her fingertips, tiny blue flames erupted, which caused him to hiss as they travelled across his newly healed skin.

"You will need the time to recover mentally," he said evenly, looking up at the ceiling. "Going back to your life to begin the operation now would get you killed in an instant."

"But..."

"I trust that you are familiar with the concept of hubris?" he asked, cutting her protest short.

"Of course I am, but--" she started again, breaking off as he rolled them over so that he was now looking down at her.

"I know what you feel, Hermione," Snape said in an almost hissing tone. "You feel invincible, elated and extremely powerful--like you have cheated Death itself and escaped unscathed. You believe that if the Dark Lord came through that door this very instant, you could take him on."

She tried to protest, and he could see anger beginning to kindle in her eyes. Without warning, he snapped his fingers, and ropes suddenly had her hands and feet fettered.

"You...!" With a simple gesture from the man, she found herself mute. A hatred stronger than she'd ever felt rose inside her, taking over her mind, making her yearn to claw at him, to hurt him, to kill him slowly and torturously for humiliating her. She felt fire start to form in her bound hands, burning away at the ropes which held her. Soon, soon, she would have her revenge....

"Any epiphanies yet?" The short comment dripped with sarcasm, and she suddenly felt like she had been doused with cold water. The beast inside roared and fought for control, forcing her hands apart to snap her restraints, while her rational mind did its best to hold them together. Hurt! Control! Impulses warred inside her, and she looked at Snape in panic, even as the ropes broke and she lifted her hands towards him.

"Clear your mind, Hermione," came his voice, almost hypnotic. "Keep your emotions in check."

She breathed deeply and forced her hands down to her sides, striving for indifference as she looked up at him. Slowly, the beast receded, and she felt revulsion in its wake. She felt used, dirty, as though something had just invaded her against her will. Swallowing hard, she fought back the tears.

"You are not ready for this fight," Snape whispered coldly. "Finite Incantatem." He touched her lips briefly and stood, grabbed a robe from a nearby armoire and walked over to a chair by a magical window overlooking a vast ocean. She shakingly came to her feet and followed him, feeling deeply ashamed and humiliated--by her own body and mind this time. They sat in silence, side by side, following the imagined sun's descent over the charmed sky.