DISCLAIMER: Not mine, dammit.
RATING: PG14
A/N: Hermione is in normal text, Severus is in italics.
Just Hold Me, Please
I need some one to hold me.
Someone to hug me, and kiss me, and give me some affection. That's all I need.
Just hold me, please.
Oh, good god, girl. How do you do that thing you do?
My hearts been frozen all my life, and now, because of you, it's defrosting.
I wish he would stop bloody calling me 'Miss Granger'. I mean, would it kill him to call me by my given name?
And he refers to me as 'the girl' whenever he talks about me (which is hardly ever), like I'm still one of his students.
He calls Albus and Minerva by their names- why not me? I'm his colleague.
… Bastard.
She gets under my skin like pins and needles. I want to be near her and yet I can't stand to be close. She's like an illness. I want to… I want to…
Oh, just hold me, please.
I don't even think he sees me as anything more than Harry Potter's best friend. Doesn't see me as anything more than a little know-it-all he used to teach. Not as a colleague. Not as a person. Not as a possibility.
God dammit, I can't even spend a meal sitting next to her without thinking what it would be like to take her. God, her smell, it's intoxicating. Like berries, and waterfalls, and everything beautiful in this world that I missed out on. Including her.
Dinner. He eats methodically, like he does everything else.
Jesus, I'm noticing how he eats now? When did that happen? I guess when I started noticing everything he does. Like brewing potions. Or running a class. Or coming in for breakfast (he looks especially sexy then).
Arrgh! Hermione! Stop bloody thinking like this!
Do you think she notices me looking at her? Do you think she'd mind that I spend all my meal times staring at her soft hands, sneaking looks at her honey brown eyes. Do you think she'd mind that that I want her to hold me?
Oh, just hold me, please…
I'm following him. I can't help it. My body's moving of it's own accord, my feet taking no notice of the messages screaming from my brain to stop. I follow him as he gets up after dinner. He doesn't even cast me a strange glance- probably just thinks I'm going to my own rooms.
I hear her get up beside me and my hopes immediately rise. But I know it's just to go back to her rooms.
He heads out the side door from the Great Hall and I follow him. I follow him all the way down to the dungeons, and still, he doesn't look at me.
Good god, she's so close behind me I can feel the heat radiating from her. If I close my eyes and concentrate, that smell seems to be something like arousal.
But, then, I'm only dreaming. Like always.
He's striding on, and I hear him take in a lungful of air through his noise. Probably his way of telling me he's irritated. Telling me to go.
Well, it's hardly my decision anymore, is it? My body seems to be completely disconnected from my mind. It's listening to my heart now.
I reach the door to my rooms and turn around, unable to ignore her any longer. I turn around and there she is, standing there dressed in tight jeans that I just know will make her ass look delectable, a tight white shirt, unbuttoned enough to make you aware but not low enough to be rash. These are covered in black robes.
He's turning around, looking at me. I stare into the fathomless black pits and wonder what goes on in that mind. The eyes are meant to be the window to the soul, and yet I can't see anything there.
But that doesn't mean he has no soul- it just means he hides it well.
She's staring at me now, and I concentrate on keeping my expression clear. She steps forward again so that she was less than a foot away. If I look down I'd be able to see straight down her top- this thought is doing nothing to help my condition.
I've stepped forward so closely that I can feel his breath on my forehead. He's a good foot taller than me, so I have to crane my neck as to see anything other than his black cloth clad chest.
"Can I help you, Miss Granger?"
Oh, what his voice does to me. Like silken clad death.
I nod, once.
"Can I help you, Miss Granger?" I ask, voice it's usually silky stoic self, not giving way to the rush of emotions beneath it.
She nods, once.
I breathe in and her scent overwhelms me, and I struggle to contain myself.
I could grab her wrists, push her against the wall and capture her lips with mine- they do look so delectable.
But I'd rather just let her hold me.
Just hold me, please.
"What is it, then?" he asks, his words cold but his voice softer than normal. I close my eyes and lean against him, wrapping my arms around his waist. His body stiffens in what I figure must be shock. But I don't let go.
Just hold me, please, I'm begging you. Just hold me.
Suddenly she's clinging to me, pushing her body against mine and burying her head in my chest. At first I thought she was crying- but on closer inspection she was chuckling. I pat her awkwardly on the back, and she holds me closer. It feels so good to have her arms wrapped around me. Too good. I have to hold her too. I have to. It's either that, or let her go.
I know what I have to do.
I pull back and gently push her away from me. Her soft laughing stops abruptly.
He puts his arm on my back and rubs for a second, before pushing me away. I stop my laughing (which, for some deranged reason, has started when he first touched me) and stare at him questioningly.
Questioningly. Honestly, why should I be looking at him questioningly? I've just thrown myself at him, started laughing hysterically, all without warning. I'd have pushed me away as well.
She looks at me with question in her eyes. Question and hurt.
Well, that'd hurt a lot less than if I crushed her against the wall, bit her 'til she bled, fucked her senseless- No.
I won't. I won't, I won't, I won't.
We look at each other for what seems like an eternity, each second spanning lifetimes. I want more than anything else to throw myself at him, let him push me up against his hips, against the wall, screw me so fast he-
"What do you want?" he asks coolly.
"What do you want?" I break the everlasting silence with cold words.
She's still staring at me- god, I could get lost in those c hocolate brown pools.
Just hold me, please.
I say nothing. I can't say anything that won't make him run screaming.
I just look at him.
She's not answering me. Just staring at me with glazed eyes.
"I repeat: what do you want?" I snap. The sooner she leaves the better, for both of us.
She stares at me still.
"Miss Granger-" My warning is cut off by her standing on tip-toe and pressing her mouth against mine. She is holding my upper arms as she moves her mouth against mine.
Just hold me, please, dear god, please.
The next thing I know, I'm kissing him.
My body is definitely not following orders tonight.
My lips move slowly against his, tugging gently at his bottom lip.
She's nibbling my bottom lip, asking for entry. I let her in. For some reason, I feel I deserve this. I've pushed her away long enough- if she didn't really want this, she would have stopped long ago.
Her mouth tastes of the mango sorbet she was eating at dessert, and of vanilla, and of everything that I associate with her.
Of knowledge, and wit, and love, and loyalty.
His mouth opens to mine, much to my tongues delight. It swirls against his, begging it to move against it.
His mouth tastes of the treacle tart he was eating at dessert, and of lemon, and of everything I associate with him.
Of sarcasm, and bravery, and darkness, and quiet.
She's running her hands up my arms and onto my shoulders, running them up my neck and through the wisps of hair on the back of it, running them up the back of her head and through my thick black hair.
She brings them lightly down the side of one cheek, down the short stubble from my not shaving the past few days and onto my mouth. She pulls away so that our foreheads are touching, but her hand covers my mouth lightly, her fingertips grazing my top lip.
I push my hands up and through his black locks, running my right hand across his cheek, over the scratchy stubble and onto his mouth. He has thin lips, but at the moment they're slightly parted and bloated from our kiss. I lean against his chest again, letting my fingertips stroke his lips.
She's leaning her head against my chest again, letting her hand play along my mouth.
"Just hold me, please…" she whispers so quietly I barely catch it.
My insides melt. How did she know? How does she know just what I want?
I finally voice what I've been wanting to say. "Just hold me, please…" I whisper into his chest. I feel him go still, before ever so slowly wrapping arms around me.
I let my arms encircle her, bring her closer, as close as she can get. They settled around her and I don't let them go for fear of letting my life go.
I close my eyes and rest my chin upon her chestnut curls, my arms still curled around her like a bear would its child.
He rests his head upon mine and I feel something click into place.
It feels like home.
We stay like that for a long time, basking in the pleasure of each others presence.
Oh, please, just keep holding me.
She finally raises her head and I pull away just enough to see her face.
"Can we go to your rooms." She asks, blushing a little at her question.
That blush is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and that sentence was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.
"Can we go to your rooms?" the words spill out without confirmation from my mind, but he just smiles the smallest of smiles and opens the door for me.
I let her in and she walks through, looking around before turning back to me as I close the door after myself.
I stand in front of her, not knowing quite what to do.
She walks back to me and pulls of my cloak, slowly letting it drop to the ground. Our breathing is laboured, hearts beating a thousand times their normal pace.
Oh, just hold me, please…
I step forward and pull of his cloak, letting it slip through my fingers and onto the ground. I start on his black waist coat, the dozens of small buttons taking forever to undo, not aided by my shaking fingers.
I finally pull it off and it falls to the ground, my arms finding his shoulders once again.
"Severus…" I breathe. "Hold me…"
"Severus…" she says, her voice a whimper. "Hold me…"Something inside me snaps. I push her backwards and grab her arms, holding then tightly. I smash my mouth against hers and she hits the wall. I run my fingers through her hair, the curls tangling under my fingers. I push her up against the wall, viciously exploring her mouth. To my surprise she moans back, wrapping her arms around my neck.
"NO!" I yell, jumping back. I can't do it.
The DeathEater inside me is begging me to sate my thirst, but I can't do it. I just can't.
He pushes me back against the wall, battering my lips with his.
Oh, good lord, I want this so, so much.
He pushes me flat against the wall, pushing his knee in between my legs. Suddenly he broke away with a gasp. "NO!" he yelled, walking back wards away from me.
I don't get it. Doesn't he want… didn't he just…
Oh, just hold me, please.
"Severus, I-" she starts.
"No. Hermione- Miss Granger- just leave." I say, opening the door for her.
She doesn't move.
"No." she says quietly.
"I beg your pardon?" I ask, staring at her. No, Hermione, don't do this. You don't want to know what I'm capable of.
He's asked me to leave. And I refused.
I'm not leaving until he looks me in the eye and says he didn't mean that, that he doesn't want this.
If he can do that, then I'll leave.
But, oh, won't he just hold me?
"Miss Granger, I won't say this again." My voice is scratchy, it's usual silken coolness gone. "Leave."
"No." she repeats. "I won't bloody leave. I've left it for far too long. I'm not giving up on this now. You tell me you don't want this as much as I do. You tell me you don't want me as much as I want you." Ye gods, this woman is amazing. Even in a rage she's delicious.
"Don't think I don't notice you sneaking looks my way at dinner." She's right.
"Don't think I don't notice that you avoid talking to me." She's right.
"Don't think I don't notice how you seem to be in the same room as me as much as possible. Don't think I don't notice those glances you throw me in staff meetings. Don't think I don't notice the way you find ways to see me in private." She's right, she's right, she's right.
"Now, you look me in the eyes and say you don't want me. Then I'll leave."
My breathing is heavy after that little rage, and my hair is falling out of the lazy bun I threw it up in before classes that morning. But I don't care about this. I don't care about anything other than his face- his eyes. They're fiery, like black flames.
I wait for him to speak.
She stands there, waiting for me to do something. I stare at her, my mind spinning. She's right- I do want her. So, so much. And she's offering herself to me. Practically begging me. And yet, I can't do it. This hurts, but it'll hurt a lot more than if this goes any further. Doesn't she know what she's asking for?
I open the door further.
"Please," my voice is still scratchy. "Leave. Please, Hermione."
He opens the door wider, indicating for me to leave.
"Please, leave. Please, Hermione." His voice is hollow, distant.
"Say it." I demand, moving closer. "Say you don't want me."
"Leave, Miss Granger!" his voice takes on a stronger note, more desperate.
"Say it!" I repeat.
"Please, just-"
"SAY IT!" I scream, unable to stop myself. "Tell me! Look me in the eye and tell me!" my breathing is ragged, and I'm so close I can feel his shallow breathing on my face. "Please…" Oh god, I'm crying now. "Tell me, and I can go."
She's crying now. Please, this isn't helping anything. Just… go! I don't care, just go before I lose myself again, Hermione. I can't last much longer.
My darkness- the side of me that won the argument to become a death eater- is overpowering. Go. I want you to stay too much. Go.
Oh, I can't help it, I just want you to hold me, please.
He's staring at me, sadness in his eyes. It's pity, I'm sure. He doesn't want me. But I was so sure… I must have been wrong.
But I have to be sure. I have to be sure that- that he really doesn't- that he won't-
"Tell me!" she screams at me, sobbing openly. "Tell me you don't love me!"
I stand there, shocked. My breathing stops, my heart slows, my mind clogs up. She just- she asked me if- Oh, good, what does it mean to really love someone?
How would I know? I've never loved before.
Does something fall into place? Do you suddenly feel at home with that person?
Surely there had to be more than that. Otherwise that meant that I really did…
Good god. I've fallen in love with Hermione Granger. Or have I?
"I don't know."
"I don't know." His voice echoes in the suddenly quiet room.
My breath catches. He doesn't know? That means… he must feel something. There must be something- some sort of hope.
I take another step forward, so that I'm leaning almost against his chest once again.
"You don't know?" I ask quietly.
"I don't know." He confirms.
I hold him again, the third time that night that I've been so close to him.
"Do you love me?" his words hit me like a bullet.
I did. I did I did I did.
"I don't know." I replied, not able to speak that one word in the affirmative.
My eyes blearily opened, the dark emerald of my bed drapes. I feel a smaller body stir beside me and I lean back, relishing in the feel of waking up next to someone for the first time.
I feel Severus shift beside me slightly, and I can see through squinted eyes his own eyes opening slowly. I stretch a little, my back stiff.
"Good morning." I say.
"Good morning…" he replies sleepily.
Thank god it's Saturday.
She moves closer to me, sliding her foot further in between mine, tugging the sheet over us both. Thank god it's Saturday.
"Severus…" I ask, moving up onto his chest, kissing him lightly on the lips. He grabs the back of my neck and kisses me harder, his tongue entering mine, exploring every crevice. I grin into it, only pulling away for air.
"Mmm?" he asks.
"Just hold me, please." I ask, kissing him again before snuggling down in the crook of his neck.
Just hold you? Well, who am I to complain. I only ask for the same in return. I tell her so.
"Hermione?" she looked up at me, a small smile playing on her mouth. "Just hold me, please."