Good Deeds

Chapter 4 - Subjective Reality

By Ehann

“I’d like you to Explain Something,” Albus said over his clasped hands. ZZ had Popped In for a Quick Update. “So you give the gift of True Love—Why to only the one person? And why all the machinations if it is True Love? Is it necessary?”

ZZ paused with a Mallomar ™ halfway to his mouth. “Listen Albus, that’s a Legit Question. The reason we normally only Deed the one person True Love is because—let’s face it—we’re dealing with humans, here. They’re Fickle. And they Screw Up. Deities, do they ever Screw Up. So it’s better if we only directly Deed the one Client.

“Think of it This Way, Dumbly. The True Love spell we place does not Bind the client to any one particular person, no matter what it Looks Like. What it does, is help compel the client not only to keep Searching For Love but also to Encourage the Flourishing of it when a Suitable Mate is found.

“Your friend, Snape, he’s Got Issues, yes?”

Albus snorted. “That’s Being Polite.”

“Right, well, Snape is gonna be thinking he’s in danger, yes? So he goes into Protect Mode, which, incidentally, releases Boatloads of Testosterone into his system. This increases his Sexual Desire, but the very Nature of Testosterone improves Sexual Attraction from the Opposite Sex.” ZZ popped the Mallomar™ between his lips.

The Headmaster steepled his hands and peered over his spectacles critically. “And you’re Sure that Miss Granger is a Good Candidate?”

“Albus, buddy, you have No Idea, the two of them Together? Generate enough heat to Melt A Glacier. I Mean it! I wish you could have seen Snape dance with That Girl!”

Dumbledore coughed. “Severus danced with her? Remarkable.” He sounded bemused.

“I haven’t Forgotten your Other Question, either—If we must go to Such Lengths, is it really True Love? The Answer, of course, is Yes. The Conglomerate would settle for Nothing Less. It is my job,” ZZ’s chest puffed out, “To ease the Transition a little. I switch some Music. I gave Snape a hunch which bar he could find Granger in. I made sure Granger saw the Mysterious Broody Guy, before she realized it was Snape. Had to get her to See Him In a Different Light. The Attraction, the base is there, you see. The Conglomerate simply makes sure a multitude of Small Details happen to effect the Desired Outcome.

“They choose to Love all on their own, Albus. C’mon, tell me the Truth. You never thought Snape would Shake His Hips like Elvis with a young woman wrapped around him, would you? Neither would he, that’s the Beauty of it. Along the way they not only Discover who they Really Are, but Who They Are Together. It’s a Bonding thing.

“And as Long As He Lives, he will never forget the way he Felt when That Song came on. By the same token, every time he hears That Song—And I’ll make it my business to make sure he hears it a lot!—he’ll remember how Good he felt, how Attractive, Sexy. Those are not things he feels very often you know.” ZZ waggled his eyebrows.

~~~~~~~~~~

When the music ended, Snape came to his senses. He felt like he’d been drugged, and was having a difficult time attempting to shake off the effects. Roughly, he peeled Granger from his body, gripped her elbow, and proceeded to drag her bodily from the bar. Hermione was not going quietly, however, and after dodging a barrage of blows and suffering a fist to his already large nose, he gritted his teeth and hauled her up and over his shoulder.

“Put me down, you bastard!”

“Temper, temper,” He sneered, ignoring the looks of disbelief from the other patrons. He slammed out the back door and found himself on a wide deck overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. Upon further inspection he saw steep wooden steps leading down to the beach. “Don’t make me drop you, Miss Granger.”

From her extremely high vantage point, Hermione realized the precariousness of her position. Not wanting to fall over the cliff as it were—Damn him for being so bloody tall-she ceased her frantic attempts to escape and relaxed as best she could.

“A wise decision.” He had trouble with the steps and almost fell, eliciting a shriek from somewhere beyond his ear. He made it to the bottom landing without incident however, and—ego stinging somewhat—dropped her unceremoniously into the sand.

She came up sputtering, shaking sand out of her hair and muttering what sounded suspiciously like curses. She glanced up and locked eyes with him, her fury clearly written. Snape saw her eyes flicker away from his then widen in horror. He quickly turned, then threw himself face down.

A knife flew over his head, then vanished into thin air.

“Oh, my God, did you—?” Hermione, still rather drunk, was close to panicking. “Professor—”

He rose to one knee, assessing the situation. He had been told that there was a possibility that someone would be attempting assassination on himself and Miss Granger, however—He hated to admit it—he hadn’t truly believed it. Seeing nothing, he dragged his attention to Miss Granger. “Oh, so now it’s ‘Professor’, again, is it?”

“That was a knife,” she said dully. “Why is someone throwing a knife at us?” She considered. “Besides which, it’s a stupid way to try and kill. You’re throwing your weapon away.”

He took her elbow again, and led her North to the nearest street access. Then he stopped, thinking. Why should he even bother? Why, they could Apparate from here—not all the way to Hogwarts, true, but they could get close. “Miss Granger,” he said sharply, feeling her suddenly sag against his side. He twisted pulling her back up to her feet. What the—? Her head was lolling back as if on ball bearings, hanging bonelessly in a way that drove a shaft of ice through his chest. “Miss Granger! Answer me!” In his experience, the only way one’s neck lolled loosely about, was when it was broken. Completely. Irrevocably.

“God, what!” She was standing next to him with a decidedly irritated expression.

“Are you all right?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t I look all right?” Her question was sarcastic, naturally. He couldn’t have managed that precise inflection any better himself except…except, hadn’t she just been unconscious? What in the name of Merlin was going on? Was he losing his mind?

He stared at her, trying to decipher if this was a prank of some sort. “You…I thought you had…fainted.” Died. He took a deep breath. “I have orders from Professor Dumbledore to take you to Hogwarts for your own safety. Through various sources, the Headmaster discovered that our lives were in danger. As you have seen for yourself.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Pardon me, Miss Granger, do I look anything other than deadly serious?” He echoed her words grimly. “The Headmaster seems to be suffering under the delusion that I can protect you.” And, if that vision I saw before is any indication, Albus does not know how wrong he is. “I can not keep us safe in this…” His lip curled. “Town,” he finished with a sneer. “We shall Apparate to Hogsmeade, and—”

Hermione shook her head, sending sand scattering. “Wait, we’re in America, can we Apparate that far all in one jump?”

Severus smiled coldly. “We’re going to find out.”

She had her hands out, and backed away. “Oh, no, we’re not. I’ve never made a jump like that before, and I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of splinching myself.”

“In theory, Miss Granger, distance should make little difference. I just wish you weren’t drunk, at the moment. Well, I suppose I can take us both.” He tilted his head to the side and extended a hand. She stared at it, unmoving. He sighed, in frustration. “Have you not grasped the fact that someone is trying to kill us? Miss Granger, we are in danger on this lovely beach. That danger increases with every passing moment. I think I should like to see the rest of the day alive and not from my coffin.” He paused. “Now. Come. Here.” His words fell like shards of glass, so cutting were they. He watched, fascinated in spite of himself, as the girl-woman in front of him flinched, and then shuffled closer. She took his hand, and he closed his fingers over hers, trying to ignore the sensation of Familiar that jolted through him.

He brought her captured hand up to his shoulder, and reached behind her with his other arm, wrapping it around her back. “Ready?” He looked down his nose to gauge her expression. She was pale and dark circles had appeared under her eyes. A trickle of blood dripped from the corner of her mouth. Appalled, Snape saw that her eyes had rolled up into her head.

He clutched her tightly, since she was not helping anymore. A fission of fear crackled in his mind. Home, he, thought, must get her back to Hogwarts. Poppy could…The thought was left on the American Beach as Snape and Granger dissolved into the ether.

~~~~~~~~~~~

From the Ether, ZZ grinned. “Okay, kids, it’s Showtime.” He clapped his hands twice. The firmament shifted.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione drifted.  From the tiny part of her that recognized herself as I, she discovered that she was so much more. She was a tiny, tiny part of an immense whole…There was herself, and there was the other, and they were one and yet separate. The part of her that, when human, might be described as ‘heart’ would have wept if it was capable. Instead, it felt… it sensed. There were no eyes to see and yet she saw…sound and thought existed as glorious color; breath existed as the purest music she had ever heard without hearing.

Love….Love, was. The fraction of being, still aware of individuality, recognized that it had always been, and always would be. She understood that Love was the breath of creation, the magic that bound spirit to flesh and made them One. She understood that Love was Life and that, without One, the Other could not exist.

In this place of between one Reality and Another, this place of ether and chaos and creation…In this place there was no logic, no rationality, there was only Emotion. Emotion, after all, was Truth. Truth was Love. Love was Life.

Her being spun, and when Time started on its journey, she knew not who she was.