Dismantle the Sun

9: The Dark Tower

THE DARK TOWER, UNPLOTTABLE

Hours before rescue

Hermione stared at the small group crowding into her cell. She was taken aback at the sight of her former professor after all this time. His face was cold and frozen in a glare, and while she gaped at him, he avoided her eyes.

But then, Bellatrix started chatting, and Hermione cringed back against the wall in acute wariness. Just the sound of the witch's voice set her on edge. And then—What is that smell? Hermione wondered.

"So nice that you could join us, Severus," Bellatrix purred, her tone anything but sincere.

Bellatrix glanced down at the metal can Rodolphus held and took quick strides forward, slamming Hermione down against the floor.

Hermione didn't react to the sharp pain and shrunk into herself, making herself as small as possible.

"Do you know, there is a form of torture that, much like The Cruciatus, has a tendency to...linger." Bellatrix smiled.

Cold ice raced down Hermione's spine, and she shuffled back against the corner of the cell. Bellatrix met her husband's smirk with one of her own and then nodded. Rodolphus hefted the large can of petrol and untwisted the lid, then turned the can over, spilling the odorous liquid all over Hermione's legs.

Hermione started to hyperventilate. She stared at the man who used to be one of her favourite professors, begging him with her eyes to do something. But he just stood there, his face impassive. He could have been at a lecture expounding on the delights of flobberworms for all of the interest he was paying her.

When Bellatrix raised her wand, he finally met Hermione's eyes.

Bellatrix couldn't help the giggle that escaped. "Incendio!"

Hermione hated to scream, to give them the satisfaction, but there was no holding it back.

Almost worse than the pain, which was excruciating, was the smell.

Hermione gasped for breath and her wild, pleading eyes held on to the hard gaze of her professor. But then — he broke the eye contact and stared at the wall, his face a contrast of hard lines.

And, she knew what abandonment felt like.

It hurt. It hurt so much.

ALLERFORD, SOMERSET, ENGLAND

Upon waking up

There was a terrible scrambling of limbs and tangled covers and Hermione sat bolt upright, gasping and sobbing. Her eyes clenched shut and she doubled over in the bed. She was crying so hard she was going to be sick. She scrambled out of the bed and took uneven steps towards the doorway. Her body was shuddering and her left hand was clasped over her mouth.

Christie met her in the hallway, looking unkempt and half-asleep. He held her up and steered her towards the bathroom while her knees knocked. "Child, lass, shhh, tis okay, you're alright. Almost—steady on there." He helped her ease in front of the toilet and opened the lid for her.

Hermione held on to the floor near her knees as she lost her dinner, heaving two, three, four times into the porcelain bowl. Sobs renewed in their strength after the nausea wore away and Hermione turned and drew her knees up to her chest and bent her head. Christie was murmuring something, she wasn't sure what, but soon she felt a cool, wet cloth on the back of her neck and then he was pressing another one into her hand.

Hermione used it to clean her face off, her fingers weak and trembling, and then she held the wet cloth against her forehead as she curled up into a ball once more. Her tears were so hot, they were burning her face. She started hiccuping. A fresh wave of sobs shook her as her mind's eye brought back the clear memory of Professor Snape breaking his gaze and staring at the wall.

Most of the time Hermione hid behind a wall of righteous anger where he was concerned, a nice and safe and comforting blanket of red-hot anger, but tonight, right now, all she felt was a deep and painful ache, like her heart was going to implode.

She felt so empty.

So empty.

NEAR GAIRLOCH, HIGHLANDS, SCOTLAND

The same evening

At the principal safehouse, Severus retched into the sink, then rinsed out his mouth and splashed water on his face. His hands were shaking, but he ignored the trembling. He left the bathroom and paced around the small bedroom, wearing down the path in the carpet still further. His steps brought him to the tall diamond-paned window beside his large and untidy desk as they usually did, and he stared out. The night sky was overcast and he could not see any stars or even the moon. As his breathing slowed and the memory lingered solely upon her gaze, the image of which only seemed to become sharper with time, he stared past his reflection in the glass, not seeing himself but a broken girl, asking for his help. His hand raked roughly down his face, and he sighed. He hadn't been able to make it back in time.

Severus's long legs carried him to his bed, and he sat down on the edge, lowering his face into his hands.

He'd never be free of her.

THE TOWER, UNPLOTTABLE

Very soon after Hermione's escape

Lucius caught Severus heading back down the flight of stairs leading to Miss Granger's cell and imparted on him what he thought would be good news. Draco had been commissioned to bring the Mudblood her meals; after all, no one else wanted the bother any longer; she wasn't a high security prisoner since Potter's death a few months before, was she? Why should they have to waste their time feeding the chit, keeping her alive? But, Lucius had laughed, exulting in how kind fate had been. The girl had saved them all the trouble and died. Draco had found her, and wasn't he relieved?

When Severus offered to take care of the girl's body, though with seeming reluctance, Lucius had patted him on the shoulder and told him not to worry about it; he'd already seen to it. After Lucius departed, Severus continued down the stairs, frustrated and full of regret, and when he reached the door to her cell, he found Draco standing outside with a completely blank look in his eyes.

The poor kid was in shock, no doubt. Severus opened the door with a hard grip on his wand, tapping twice, and let himself inside for a moment. It was empty, dark, oppressive, and he couldn't believe that she'd lived as long as she had. Almost a year in this hole. Stronger even than Potter. Why couldn't she have lasted one more day? Finally, finally, he had discovered where she was being held. And now he was too late. Anger and indignation nearly suffocated him. He left, easing the door closed behind him, and Draco followed him up the many flights of stairs.

They didn't speak. There were really no words.