Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Note: It's been a long long time since I updated this story and I'm so glad to be doing it again. I know how it will go, it's just finding the time to get there. It's been a crazy few months, but I hope to get the chance to update all of my stories more often in the very near future.

I'll need to reread this chapter again for correctness, but wanted to get it up so the story could continue. Reviews are welcome!

Chapter 8: On the Trail of the Panther

Upon entering the lavish hotel room he shared with Hermione, Severus Snape took care of business in the only way he knew how, swiftly and methodically. A gentle flick of his wrist and the entire room was covered to prevent any further mess. With the lift of an eyebrow his mobile lab opened itself and began heating cauldrons to three different temperatures. A sharp whistle summoned his house elves to drag the dying werewolf into the bathroom for later inspection. He then turned his attention to his companion.

Had you not seen the blood that covered her body, one could have mistaken her for sleeping. Her eyes were almost completely closed, her features at peace, her breathing slow, he could have none of this.

"Don't fall asleep on me now." Severus said shaking Hermione violently from her temporary peacefulness. If she fell asleep, his potion would be less effective, if she fell asleep now there would be a greater chance she could turn.

Despite her complete shock and lack of blood, Hermione jolted awake screaming and flailing her arms in surprise.

Severus brought her to their bed and sat on it, placing her on his knee. He took her by the chin and looked into her eyes. "Look at me." He said calmly, "You've been attacked by a Werewolf, do you remember?"

Hermione nodded.

He continued, "I need to see if you were bitten." Severus' stomach churned, knowing what he would have to do to her tonight. Knowing how much pain she would have to endure, regardless of whether she had been bitten or not. "I'm going to have to…"

Hermione stopped him, gently placing a hand on his chest with what little strength her ravaged body still contained. Leaning in she whispered, "I know what you have to do Severus." Her eyes were so calm despite the urgency of the situation, despite the fact that her body was failing, clinging only to what it could to survive. "Please hurry."

Severus nodded, standing her up in front of him and pulling a silver knife from the folds of his robes. 'She's so strong.' he remarked as he slit her torn red dress open in the front, revealing her lacy panties and her bare breasts.

Over the years, Severus had contemplated many different ways he might have come to this point with her. Sitting on a bed or a chair, relieving her of the burden of her clothing, touching her soft skin. He had imagined how she might look without her clothing, how she might feel when he touched her, how she would taste on his lips. He had envisioned every possible way this could happen, except this one. He sighed, wishing things could have been different.

His first task was to check her bites and other werewolf inflicted wounds. Gently turning her so her back was to him he began to gently run his fingers through her hair, down her neck and over her back. Her skin was stained red with her own blood, so he could not trust his eyes, he would have to go on feel. Severus worked quickly, rolling his long fingers over her bum, through to her inner thighs and down toward her feet. Satisfied that she was fine he turned her to face him.

The look on her face was one that cut through his heart. Tears were welling up in her eyes and her lip quivered slightly. The dilation of her pupils indicated fear and shock, she was playing out the possible outcomes of her injuries in her head. Knowing that many of them lead to partial or full werewolfism. Alot depended on the kind of werewolf and how powerful they were whether you were infected from a bite or a scratch. Bites were almost always infectious, scratches were 50/50. There were many variables that Severus could not focus on now, he needed to make sure he had a handle on the situation.

Sitting on the bed his eyes were at her breast level. Even now he couldn't stop himself from remarking on how beautiful she was. Severus ran his fingers down her jaws, over her neck and stopped at the three gashes on her chest left by the beast. They started at the left shoulder and ended at her right hip. He ran one of his fingers along the cuts, judging their length, then gently stuck a finger deeper inside. Hermione flinched at this but did her best to cover her pain. Her training kicking in, she would need to be still. Satisfied that they were not as deep as he had previously thought, and content that there were not more injuries on her body Severus pulled the vials of werewolf's blood from his robes.

"You are going to make it." He said to her, his dark eyes piercing her golden ones. "I promise." She smiled at him then, it was a smile that melted his old worn heart of stone.

He sat her down on the bed and got to work in his laboratory. He would need to mix this blood with some herbs and other ingredients to make an antiviral for Hermione. Severus was never nervous when he did these kinds of things, but found himself sweating all the same. The stakes were high. One wrong measurement, one wrong dosage and the potions would be useless and she would be left to her fate.

"Don't fall asleep." he said without turning around.

"I'm not." Came a weak voice from behind him.

He would need to work faster, she didn't have much longer. Severus moved his hands quickly, adding water here, a drop of blood there, counting the turns of his ladle with the sort of mechanical perfection he wished he could impart on his students. Then, he took a breath and cut the flames.

Turning to his savior he reached for his silver knife again, knowing that the hardest part was yet to come. "I think it best I restrain you. If not you might injure…"

She shook her head, cutting him off from the rest of his thought. Moving his wand in a circular fashion restraints grew from the bedframe and gently wrapped around her wrists and ankles, pulling her into a spread eagle position. He shook his head thinking of all the times he had performed this spell under different circumstances. Thinking about how his heart had fluttered at the sight of her leather underwear, wondering if she liked to be dominated or dominant. He could do either given the right circumstances and yet, he had all the wrong circumstances today. 'One day we will explore each other properly.' his promise to her made in his own mind as he neared her bare chest.

Taking out his handkerchief from his pocket he placed it in her mouth, so she wouldn't bite off her own tongue. He let his index finger linger on her face a moment, "I'm sorry." He breathed.

With that he ran the silver knife down the first of her three gashes, sending her muffled screams through the room. He had to cut the possible infection out, which meant cutting the wounds bigger and deeper, cutting the source away from her as much as he could. Most men would pass out after a few seconds, but not the woman he had grown so fond of. Not Hermione. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her muscles tensed as she tried to control her body from flailing violently against his cuts. Severus' silver blade was sharp and precise, he would take only as much of her flesh as he needed to.

He could not look at her face, did not want to see how the pain was etched across her features. Her screams painted a clear enough picture for him. With the first wound cleared he motioned the finished vials of antivirus come his way. Opening the cleaned wound with this thumb and forefinger, he poured a few drops of each potion into the wound, sending her screaming to the top of her lungs even with the handkerchief still secured in her mouth. Pushing a small amount of witch hazel into the wound and using his wand he sealed it, with the perfection of a medial wizard.

"Only two left." He said matter of factly, wiping the sweat from her brow. "You are doing well, you need to be awake only a little while longer."

As a graduate student he had witnessed a few such rituals as he was performing now, and was amazed at how Hermione tolerated the pain. Even in her most dire moment she sought to over achieve. Fixing these wounds was one of the most tricky things a wizard could do. It took time, patience and no magical interference. Had he given her pain potions or put her to sleep, the chances of the body rejecting the werewolf were much lower. She needed to fight it, and being awake meant her mind, body and soul were fighting for normalcy. In the back of his mind Severus knew that it was no coincidence that the sorceress had sent a Werewolf after them. There were only a few Potions Masters who could perform such acts, and he was one of them. He would kill her for what she did today, he would make sure she had no chance to escape, no chance to come back into this world.

As a finished a smile crept across his face. The ritual had gone as well as he could have hoped. There was not much he could do about the scarring, but that was the least of their worries at the moment. Severus removed the cloth from Hermione's mouth.

"Severus, I just wanted to..." she began.

"Sleep." Severus said, using his legitmens abilities to make her instantly obey.

He would keep her tied up on the chance that she turned before morning. He had done all he could, now it was up to luck. He vanished the last of the blood from her body and covered her with a blanket.

'Now to the werewolf.' Severus told himself as he removed his robes and rolled up the sleeves of his dirty white shirt. The beast was in the bathroom, strewn in the bathtub just as he had asked the house elves to do. But he had changed back into his human form after death, a good sign. Crouching down to the tub level he inspected the body.

It was a young man, similar in appearance to the one they had chased before. "Freshly bitten." Severus remarked to himself, seeing the bite marks on the man's arm. Lower on the forearm he noticed a small tattoo on the underside of the man's wrist. 'A panther face.'

Severus tried to think back on the young man from earlier in the day, but didn't know he had had a similar tattoo or not. He hadn't looked, hadn't expected that this dark witch had a following to this extent. 'Bitten to honor your mistress.' He shook his head in disgust. He hated the way young people were manipulated into giving their lives away for a cause that didn't matter. He knew what it was like to be young and vulnerable, to tattoo yourself to show allegiance and then to regret it later. 'This could have been me." he mused to himself before moving to the young man's pockets.

"Mmmmm." Was the only reaction to escape Severus' lips as he pulled out a letter from the man's pocket. Turning it over in his hand, he saw the raven's seal, Morgana's seal. He furrowed his brow, this was not going in a very positive direction. Inside the letter were two recent photographs of both him and Hermione, taken just a day or two ago. The letter, ordering him to injure Severus and bring him back to her written in the distinctive script of a woman he knew very very well.

"Do you really despise me so much after all these years?" Severus wondered aloud. "You were always so ambitious, always knew what you wanted but this?" Her occult leanings would be inline with what had happened over the last several days. Building a following of young men loyal to her through promise of promotion, favor or sex - then using them in any way possible. He didn't want to believe it but he couldn't turn a blind eye anymore. "But what of the Panther?" he wondered. Was it a new reincarnation of herself? Her partner? Her assistant?

Severus stroked his chin in contemplation as the grandfather clock struck 3am. He would need to confront her and soon. The potion they presumed she was making would be done soon, and with that she would stop at nothing to get him and kill Hermione. He would have to wait until tomorrow, now he didn't have the energy to follow. She would be angry once she realized her werewolf had failed in his task, and he could use this to his advantage.

With a snap of his fingers his house elves appeared and began to usher the body out of the room, cleaning it as they did so. Severus showered then, washing away with it the day and the fear of what he may confront in the bedroom when he emerged. To his relief, Hermione was asleep and looked no different than before. He pulled on his sleeping pants and moved toward the bed. Kissing her on the forehead, he joined her under the blanket. The restraints would have to stay, he couldn't have her catching him unawares.

He settled into the bed, feeling the warmth of her body on his. He could get used to this, to her smile and to her fearlessness...he could get used to it all. They were on the trail of the panther, and nothing excited him more than putting an end to this nonsense together.