Work Text:
The is a repost of a very old story I wrote post-OoTP. Reposted by request for ScatteredLogic. Thanks for asking - I'm glad someone remembers my old stuff :-)
Title: Fracture Mechanics
Author: Lovesrainscent
Rating: T
Pairing: SS/HG
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, JK Rowling does and I stand to make no profit from the posting of this story.
Summary: A very late response to Tegan's 2nd Person challenge on WIKTT. Someone contemplates the implications of a relationship between Severus and Hermione. Dark - not fluffy.
Fracture Mechanics
Adamantine.
He had such adamantine eyes - hard and unyielding.
You had delved into alchemy all your life but only when he showed up at your door did you realize that you had finally found that mythical ore. Poor Nicholas Flammel - he had continued to spend his days seeking it in earth and minerals when all he had to do was to look into the heart of a boy ignored, bullied and abused his entire life.
The hardness was apparent from the very beginning and you cherished it and purified it under pressure for in him was your hope of a perfect tool forged to defeat your enemy. The pressure was easy to apply, all you had to do was continue to ignore the trials he suffered at the hands of his classmates. You, who in your position of responsibility should have had the welfare of each and every individual at the school in mind, chose to not see what he endured.
Your crowning moment was when he came to you, pleading for justice for the one who would have had him killed. He wanted all four punished but you and he both knew who the guilty party was - that only one deserved expulsion and possibly worse for what was clearly an attempt on his life. You smiled then, your eyes twinkling merrily. "It was just a prank," you had said evenly, "surely Severus, you know it was just a prank."
The transformation occurred then and it was breathtaking. Nicholas couldn't have been more in awe when he pulled the Philosopher's Stone from its emulsion. An adamantine curtain shuttered his eyes. If there had been just one inkling that his life meant something to someone, anyone, then the process might not have been so complete. But there he stood - unyielding and untouchable, too hardened even to hate.
It was easy to predict the sequence of actions he would take next - seeking comfort from your enemy. He dabbled there awhile but you knew that he hadn't the stomach for it. In his heart of hearts he was never truly evil, not like Tom or Lucius. And so, sickened, he came back, like a dog kicked repeatedly who still licks his master's hand on the off-chance that there may be some gesture of affection. For he had seen you give affection freely to others, so freely to all those others. It wasn't really hope that had brought him back, adamantine chains prevented that, it was more properly habit.
Time passed and he proved himself impenetrable as you knew he would. He was your greatest asset in this war - a perfect spy. He was so valuable that you had to manufacture a distraction. Fortunately, Lily's sacrifice had provided the perfect avenue. You could see to it that the name of Harry Potter, child of lucky circumstance, was lifted in glory to provide a windmill at which Tom could joust and tilt, exhausting himself while your true weapon went about his business. The 'prophecy' that only you could recall, was a nice touch, you thought chuckling to yourself.
But here, tonight, at the Halloween Feast for Harry's sixth year you saw something that troubled you. The adamantine nature of his eyes seemed to have. changed.
You first noticed it this past June. The infirmary had been a very busy place and Miss Granger had required copious potions to aid her recovery. At first he had performed his duties in a most perfunctory fashion. But as time went on, rather than handing the responsibilities over to Madam Pomfrey, he continued to brew and administer them himself. Poppy had planted the suspicion in your mind, clucking and winking to you about the number of hours Severus was spending in her Infirmary.
Summer passed and you tried to dismiss it, the war was heating up after all. But term resumed in September and she returned. It was undeniable then - his eyes were no longer adamantine. You puzzled over it through September and October, wondering what impact this would have on Severus' usefulness to you. And as you sit here tonight, watching him watch her, it occurs to you.
Obsidian.
He has such lovely obsidian eyes - dark and shining.
How fitting for your Potions Master to be the product of a fluid, magma purified by heat and pressure and stress. Steam escapes, impurities are squeezed out and the liquid, too viscous to move quickly cools. Your weapon isn't a rock at all - it's a liquid frozen in time.
You glance at Miss Granger and tip your glass to her. And what does obsidian do? When struck it produces fractures, lovely fractures, seashell- like in form. Again the allusion to anything having to do with liquid is too symmetrical to ignore. Oh how you love it when your Potions Master is associated with fluids. Severus, Severus, the time is closer than we had thought you muse silently.
You survey the crowd - happy students, indulging themselves, enjoying the feast while the wolf rages at the door. They are your responsibility - all of them. It saddens you that some must be sacrificed for the greater good but that is the nature of the world, you've lived long enough to know that.
Obsidian - such a lovely substance. When fractured, the planes of intersection can produce an edge finer than the sharpest razor. The ancients knew this. Around the world obsidian was used for knives, spear points, and arrowheads.
There is a cancer in the wizarding world. It must be removed and all surgeons require a scalpel. Yours shall have the keenest edge. He shall strike from such closeness that your enemy won't have a chance to deflect the blow, so trusted is he by Lord Voldemort.
Miss Granger smiles shyly at him, maidenly blush creeps up her cheeks. She then bashfully turns back to her companions. She is such a lovely, lovely girl. It must be exquisite, this feeling that he has for her.
But you aren't about medicine or romance or lithic technology. No, you are first and foremost an alchemist. As in chemistry, alchemical reactions require a catalyst. You wonder how to go about arranging Miss Granger's death so that Lord Voldemort is at fault.
Fin