Chapter Text
She felt her head spin and start to pound. Something was wrong, very wrong. She tried to focus on her potion because, well, if she did not she was definitely going to fail this class. And Snape—being Snape—was throwing her through the ringer with this class and would probably derive great pleasure from failing her. Well, actually, he expressed that on many accounts. She tried to keep focus on her potion. She wouldn’t fail his class, he wasn’t going to get satisfaction…Oh yeah and also the fact that she was pretty sure her potion was about to explode. Yeah, maybe having toxic chemicals all over the room wasn’t the move.
She gritted her teeth and kept working through her headache. Blimey, Draco Malfoy had eyes on her. He was probably hoping her potion would explode so his scores wouldn’t always come second to a “mudblood.”
But her pain intensified, though, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe and she felt the urge to throw up and pass out at the same time. Her hands started to tremble with her body feeling it was on the point of exhaustion— her potion…
“Get out!” She heard Professor Snape scream as he quickly stabilized the remains of her potion, and others. Nobody had to be asked twice, to leave, except her apparently.
“That meant you too, Granger.” But her legs wouldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe and all she could do was look at him, pleading with him. Fuck, make this stop please.
—
He quickly knew something was wrong, only Neville Longbottom would be stupid enough to nearly poison all of them by letting an unstable potion almost explode. And by the– almost– he just meant that he was the only reason that she wasn’t in the hospital wing. Although, perhaps that would be more favourable than dealing with the situation that presented him.
He wouldn’t have to deal with Granger apologizing profusely and raising her hand to pester him with questions. By now, a healthy Granger would be explaining all the ways she messed up. She would probably hand him an essay on it.
Although, a healthy Granger would have not made a trivial mistake.
He sighed, he did not know what to do with this girl in his class. It had been three months since they had bonded together. Since Voldemort had cast a spell linking them together forcing them to spend time together, or else she would be in severe pain and his masters would not be happy.
And for Severus Snape a relationship that consisted of anything but social distancing had exceeded his boundaries. His boundaries were plainly: do not talk to him.
But his manipulative masters—Dumbledore and the Dark lord— did not care for them.
He just did not expect the Golden trio to directly be his problem. He was content being the dungeon bat who saved them when they were up to no good.
But no. Hermione Granger was now bonded to him—Well, more like cursed to have to spend time with him. He wondered how she felt about his situation, and then shut down the thoughts immediately. He did not have time to care about feelings.
They would survive. He would make sure she would survive, and he would survive long enough to make sure this war ended. Their bonding was simply another piece of the war, it helped ensure that the war ended in their favour, that was all. She was his responsibility, an annoying one, but one nonetheless.
He paced around the room, double checking that all of the potions were corked and stabilized. He then looked at her pale demeanour. Should he just bring her to the infirmary and be done with it? What was he supposedly supposed to do with Hermione Granger? He couldn’t exactly walk up to Madame Pomfery and explain that Granger was having unknown side effects of a curse he himself did not fully understand. He sighed, she wouldn’t magically heal herself, would she?
No, of course not. That would imply that Severus Snape was a lucky man, which he indeed was not.
If he was, he wouldn’t be curse-bound to a bushy-hair- know- it -all.
If he was, the war wouldn’t manage to take every piece of him. Even when he was so broken he was sure there were no more pieces he could give.
He didn’t deserve Lily Potter. Nonetheless, he was going to ruin another girl's life and he could do nothing to stop it. He pondered if this was his fate. A cruel way that the universe had decided to get back to him for ruining Lily Potter's life. He wanted more than anything to not be bonded to Hermione Granger. These three months had been painful for him. He did not like sharing his space, Severus Snape was a solemn man. He liked it less that he had to try to be civil to Granger, as according to Dumbledore he was “too hostile” and nobody wanted to spend time with him.
So, instead of barking orders and telling Granger to get out of his face and go to an infirmary he tried to be… Civil? “Granger, we need to get you to—”
–
Hermione felt the bond act up, like it was causing her skin to feel like it was on fire. She did not know the logistics of their bond, why it flared up like it did, and how much proximity it proposed. For now, they kept it at a minimum, and hoped that it would settle. She wasn’t trying to spend more time than necessary with her grumpy potions master. These three months had been strange enough, she wasn’t trying to cross more boundaries. She would agree to this bond, mainly because she literally had no other choice, and she would seal herself to secrecy and help the order. She vowed to help Harry Potter in whatever way she could.
But, that didn’t change the fear in her when the curse acted in unpredictable ways. It didn’t change the fact that she was the girl who read the same instructions three times to make sure she didn’t make any errors for fear of imperfection. It didn’t change the fact that she read this particular potion’s instructions six times. Just for it to almost blow up and now she would probably fail the class now.
She sighed, her eyes stinging with tears. She was in so much pain, she wanted it to end, to feel better… All her mind was screaming at her was that proximity helped the bond, it would help her right now…
“No. You greasy dungeon bat.” She said as she wrapped her arms around Severus.
–
Was she actually going insane? That was the only logical explanation as to why she was wrapping her arms around professor Snape.
It was inappropriate, and well, he hates her. Her brain should be telling her to run as far a way as possible from him.
However, she couldn’t. Their magic was bound together and it would keep forcing them together. Why fight it?
She couldn’t. The magic was so strong, so unbalanced, and all it could scream was you need him.
She wrapped her arms around her head as it kept pounding. Fuck.
She needed a healer.
But it didn’t matter, because she was cursed by the dark lord. No healer could help them, hell nobody even knew her and Severus were bound together by magic.
What was she supposed to do, go to Voldemort and beg him to undo the spell because she hated her professor. Yeah, that would go down great.
So no. Nothing could help her but his presence.
She felt him still under her embrace, blankly unsure what to do.
“I’m sorry.” She said, unsure what to say in this situation. Knowing both of them would rather be anywhere but here.
The silence between them soon engulfed the room.
There was simply nothing more to say.
There were no answers to their predicament.
Ironic, for the two brightest minds of the wizarding world.
–
He did not know how much time had passed.
He did not know how he kept finding himself in these situations.
He looked at Hermione who was now breathing more regularly with her head now flat in his lap while they continued to not look at each other and not speak to each other.
Severus' jaw clenched. What exactly had the dark lord cast upon them?
And what the fuck was the price he was going to pay for it? He looked at the girl in his lap, what was the price she was going to pay for it.
Her innocence. Her soul? All taken by the war too young.
He had already sold his soul. It belonged to the dark lord or Dumbledore. It did not matter anymore, his soul no longer existed, he was simply just a pawn. He accepted it the moment Lily died.
He had accepted it for a very long time. His future was always meant to end in tragedy. He knew he would do something to fuck it up and he knew he did not deserve anymore than what he was granted.
He knew that when his father would take a bat to him. He knew that when his mother would plead for him to save her. He knew that when he called Lily a mudblood. He knew that when he saw James and Lily die.
He knew his fate was sealed when he joined Slytherin and pledged himself to the dark lord. He knew that when he looked at the ink that etched his skin.
His fate was sealed.
He would save Harry Potter, perhaps do one redeemable thing in his life, and then he would die.
His fate would always end in death, that he was certain of. Dumbledore or the dark lord would pull him too far in one way or another, and he was fine with that.
What he was not fine with was Hermione Granger being part of his darkness. Severus Snape was an ugly man that she did not need to be tainted by.
But she would as the constant proximity was not optional.
He sighed, perhaps, Hermione Granger was going to be the final victim in his pitiful life.
–
He shifted slightly, cradling Hermione’s head more securely in his lap.
The curse was acting for a longer period of time than he had expected. He analyzed her symptoms and she was still in pain. The question, though, was how much pain? He was unsure of the answer. The proximity should have helped, but Granger was not going to give him an honest answer as she wanted to be in this situation as little as he did. He knew that the magic came from a very old curse that was originally used by men to keep their wives submissive when the feminist movement was rising. It was essentially used when women realized they no longer had to be treated like shit by their husbands. It had been banned as quickly as it had been made though and it could only be casted by very powerful wizards. Only Dumbledore and the dark lord equivalents could cast the spell. Since it was ancient and forbidden, though, there was next to no record on it. And he would not be surprised if the ministry conveniently lost all of their “records.”
“Professor, the pain, I have an idea. We need to get to your chambers.”
–
“Okay.” He cast a quick Disillusionment Charm over them. He was moving now, steadily, his arms wrapped around her as she heavily leaned on him.
She had an idea, she needed a potion, it might be able to stabilize the curse. But right now, her goal was not to stumble over her two feet.
She hated this, she felt so consumed by forces and thoughts that did not belong to her– they belonged to this goddamn curse. All she could focus on was him. All she could focus on was his scent of parchment and spearmint.
She felt inappropriate, and borderline obsessive thinking about him like this. She felt worse when she tucked her head into him. Knowing that her legs were going to fail her.
Catch me, professor. Please.
—
“Granger, must I carry you?”
Severus knew something was wrong the minute he had to catch her from tripping on her own ropes. They were so close to his private chambers, he half carried her and half dragged her.
He did not know what was wrong with her, but he did know his magic was responding oddly. It felt too large. Almost as if he was drunk with power.
Oh no.
He knew this feeling, he would feel this feeling when he used dark magic. The high, the thrill that goes through your body; the feeling of being invisible and greater than life. As if the magic could consume you whole, and you’d let it. And beg for more if it did.
He shook his head, feeling his brain go fuzzy. No, he would not let himself be consumed by his own magic. He was certain the curse tortured Granger with dark magic, then it directed itself to give them both the high. Like a drug, give them withdrawals and then show them now how good the high feels – how you can’t live without it.
–
He gritted his teeth, what the curse did not factor in was Severus Snape hated dark magic. Mainly because he wasn’t a blithering idiot who let himself be consumed by magical nonsense.
He assumed this was one of the main reasons why this curse was banned. Mainly because half the wizarding population were blithering idiots and probably enjoyed this. As a result, this curse most likely produced too many Bellatraix Estranges.
And, of course, that was the probable reason why the dark lord had been using the curse: just as a creative outlet to fuck everybody over (as always).
He finally managed to bring her to his private quarters. He laid her gently on the settee near the fire.
Now, he might know he was immune to dark magic, but the question remained; was she?
—
The answer was no, she was not immune to it. He was not surprised though as this was probably the girls first time experiencing dark magic. He, on the other hand, had years to become numb and resentful to it.
“Granger, snap out of it.” But she couldn’t. It was no longer like she was in pain, but rather like she was drunk. Her words slurring together and movements clumsy. The dark magic slamming into her, wanting her to experience the high that comes with it.
He needed to find a way to reach her, because the curse was not going to stop. It was going to force them together, keep them drunk on dark magic, keep them together in a way that was electric, like a toxic couple that kept coming back to each other desperate for endorphins.
He felt the magic pulsing through his veins, he just had to focus enough to stabilize the magic. Then they could return back to normal.
Well back to normal as normal as they could ever be. And he would probably have a splitting headache after this.
—
Hermione's mind felt it was drifting through a fog, finally becoming sluggish, slowing down. In contrast to the high she felt. She felt larger than life. But felt like she could do anything, cast anything. It did not matter what, and if she could control the magic a little better, she would have. She got everything she desired for once to be the best. She could be. The magic would allow her, she wouldn’t have to prove herself, she was just the best, with this magic coursing through her veins. What would she do first? She could…
But then, it's like the high just stopped. She assumed this was probably Snape doing. She hated it, she wanted to be the best, she wanted the magic back. Her desire for perfection outweighed whatever moral reasoning she had, she wanted … She wanted to …
It did not matter. She shook her head, coming down to reality.
It did not matter because as much as she wanted to escape reality she couldn’t. And all she had to do was look into a mirror and she would see all of her imperfections staring back at her.
Everything else, everything the magic promised her was a delusion.
–
She looked over at her professor. Wondering what he felt, wondering if he desired the magic like her. Wondering if he would be willing to use it again. But she also, why would he need her for that? He had the dark mark, he had plenty of dark magic.
She also noticed he was rubbing his temples, “Do you have a headache?”
“No.” He grunted, clearly lying.
“How long have I been out?” She looked out the window realizing it was nearly nightfall now.
“A while.”
She leaned back into his couch, pulling the blankets closer to her.
Fuck. She did not want to feel what dark magic felt like. She did not want to feel the coursing addiction. She did not want to lose control, she did not want to crave it. She knew the buzz would wear off in a couple days, then she would force herself to never think of dark magic and never use it again.
But fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
People were not kidding when they said this felt better than a drug. How did he control himself? How did he not want to feel invisible? How did he not have the desire to study and control every aspect of magic–No matter what.
She hugged her knees to herself.
She hated this. She hated every aspect of their bond. She felt like a child to him. Like she was begging to play with a toy, and he had already figured out how to control it and how to get bored of it.
Why did she even arrive at Hogwarts early on Christmas break? Why couldn’t she wait an extra day to erase her parents' memory?
Then she shouldn’t have shown up, walked down the alley, and been captured by Greyback.
Then she wouldn’t have had to face Voldemort.
Then… “Why did you arrive at Hogwarts early?” She could feel the hatred seep out his words as he asked her. Imagining he hated their arrangement just as much as her.
“Obviously so the dark lord could cast a spell on me, and so I’d have to spend time with you.”
“Silly girl! Do you not understand —“
“Understand what? What exactly do you want me to understand? That I am stuck with you!” She felt all the pain and rage unleash itself. “Do you think I want this? You think I like lying to Harry? To Ron? To everybody.”
“You were supposed to be with Potter and Weasley, over Christmas break. That’s what Dumbledore informed me. But instead I find you down Diagon Alley? Did you want to get captured? Maybe so you could pester the death eaters with all your insentient questions!”
“Well, blimey, that’s a great idea. I purposely got captured, wondered if I was going to die, and then got stuck with my professor. Yes, professor, this was my plan. Your company brings me such joy.”
“Always in the thick of it, are you not, Miss Granger? You should have known your life would be at risk. But no— you came back without Dumbledore’s permission, as if the rules do not apply to you. Typical.”
“I know! Alright, do you think I don’t know how stupid I was being!”
Snape’s jaw clenched. He looked away, just for a moment, but when his eyes found hers again, they were full of something Hermione hadn’t expected… Regret.
“You were never meant to carry this responsibility, get so involved in the war so young.” He said as the fire crackled beside them, casting long shadows on the stone walls. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, letting the words sink in.
“Outcomes are not predictable. We are at war.”
“That they are not. Well, Miss Granger I am getting some sleep. I hope you manage to obtain some as well.” He said heading to his room. “There is food on the stove.”
“You cook?” She could not help her surprise. She supposed that Severus Snape had to do other things besides grade papers and yell at his students all day, but seeing him do something so mundane was rather bizarre to her. She sighed, who was she kidding; what about this situation was not bizarre?
“Do not act so surprised. I need to eat, do I not?” He glared at her, “Eat what you please. Albus will excuse us from all activities tomorrow.” She had a feeling the excuse was going to be detention for her potion mishap. “We shall be going to the Forbidden section of the library tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, professor.”
“Goodnight, Miss Granger.”
—