Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Note: It has been a long time since I attempted fan fiction. This story is set in the year following the final battle and is largely compliant with all 7 books. I will deviate from book 7 at a few points. Obviously it is set before the epilogue so we are ignoring that. And Snape is saved from death after the battle. The prologue may move fast for the reader but it starts months after the characters had begun interacting. (And the meat of the story deal with what happens after anyhow.) Any way I hope I've left nothing out. Enjoy. :)
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It was a bleak Thursday in November when Hermione Granger paused before lightly rapping on the mahogany door deep within the dungeons. The only answer from beyond the door was a low grunt—the same as it was every day. With a deep breath, Hermione pushed the door open and stepped inside.
It was another moment before her eyes adjusted to the darkness within the small chamber and she had any hope of navigating through the clutter without upsetting the objects around her. Across the room, he was sitting the same way he sat every day staring at the empty fireplace without interest. Despite the repetition, her task never seemed to get easier.
Carefully crossing the room, she uncorked the little glass vial and set it down on the table next to the chair where the disgruntled man sat. At the soft clink of the glass, the man looked up. His hopeless black eyes once more bore into her own as if searching for something—what exactly she could never guess. She steeled her nerves and spoke, "Professor Snape, it's time for your potion."
She had been coming to administer his potions every day since a few weeks after that final battle and every day it was the same. There were few who knew the tale of how exactly he escaped death that day, but it had been suggested to Hermione that it had something to do with Narcissa Malfoy and a life debt.
Snape's eyes continued their search and Hermione forced herself to remain still under their intensity. With a soft encouraging smile she said, "You know I can't leave until I've seen you take it." After what always felt like ages, Snape's long fingers curled around the glass vial and he tipped the sparkling blue liquid back into his mouth.
"Thank you, Professor." Hermione said as she reached for the vial back. There was the briefest of moments when Hermione took back the vial that their finger tips touched and it caused Hermione's breath to catch. It was only a small bit of skin, but the contact always shot through her like a knife. The first time she had been surprised at how warm his hands were having expected them to be cold like his personality, but she had become so used to the warm hands and the feeling of shock they sent through her. Professor Snape's eyes once more rose to meet her own before he fully released the vial and Hermione took it back. She never knew whether it was a question or a challenge in those eyes, but the same message lingered in them day after day.
"See you tomorrow, Professor." Her voice was barely a whisper as she retreated from the room shutting the door behind her. Having completed her task, she allowed herself a moment of composure leaning against the cool stone of the dungeon wall. With a shaking hand she put the vial away in her robe pocket and exhaled. Her nerves finally under control, she pushed herself off the wall and went to join her friends in the Great Hall for dinner.
It was a little strange the way she had acquired the job of bringing Severus Snape his daily potion. Hermione had volunteered after the war to help in the hospital wing with a couple other older students and was busy helping Madam Pomfrey when they brought Snape in. The initial healings had been done by the Matron herself and it had taken two full weeks for Snape to regain consciousness. Upon waking, Severus Snape quickly turned into their most difficult patient and refused almost all the help they tried to give him. The other student volunteers were afraid to go near him as his temper in the hospital wing was worse than it had ever been in the classroom.
One day, while Hermione was busy changing the sheets of a recently vacated bed, she heard Madam Pomfrey's muffled shouts coming from the area by Snape's bed. Hermione had rushed over to see how she could help and found the two arguing over taking his potions. With a large huff and a "We are not finished with this conversation Severus Snape!" The hospital matron, largely fed up, stormed off to tend to her other patients presumably while she regained a cool head.
Hermione had no idea what good she could do that Madam Pomfrey couldn't, but before she fully had time to process what she was saying she spoke up. "Professor Snape, please. This is to help you get better." She then spent a long moment pinned under the Potions Master's sharp gaze, and though the intensity of his stare caused her insides to churn Hermione refused to let her chin quiver or her limbs shake. Without taking his eyes from her, he brought the potions to his lips one by one. Hermione let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding and stared in astonishment at the 6 empty vials on his bed side table.
When Madam Pomfrey returned to the ends of this staring contest and an obedient patient, she was very pleased. It had quickly become Hermione's job to see to the Professor's potions and other necessities in the hospital wing. It had even remained Hermione's job when school had started up again. Hermione didn't mind really, there was something about their battle of wills that was as thrilling as it was nerve-wracking.
Finally down in the Great Hall, Hermione chatted with her friends about their NEWT classes. In order to make up for lost time, the sixth and seventh year classes from the previous year had been combined into a single grade that focused intensely on the NEWT level exams. It was a changed, but Hermione found that Ginny was a much better student than Harry or Ron and Hermione welcomed now sharing classes and projects with the younger girl. While she wasn't nearly as academic as Hermione everything Ginny did was done with passion.
The red haired girl grinned at Hermione, " You've gotten here just in time. Ron and Harry were just talking about how they'd rather go flying tonight than write Professor Slughorn's paper."
"Really, Harry and Ron!" Hermione started and before she had even gotten a chance to sit down she was already lecturing them about finishing their homework.
It was nice to just be students again and focus on classes instead of madmen. The group laughed while they ate. Harry and Ginny seemed particularly giggly now that there was nothing standing in the way of their relationship. Well, nothing except Ron when the two got a little too close.
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The next day Hermione made her way to the dungeons to give Professor Snape his potion. Well, he wasn't technically a professor this year as he wasn't doing any teaching. She wasn't sure what sort of arrangement he had with the headmistress where he could retain a room without teaching, but Hermione was sure that they expected he'd be teaching again when he was sufficiently recovered.
The trip started just like the others with a knock and a grunt. Bracing herself Hermione pushed open the mahogany door and entered the room. She set her little vial down with the usual line, "Professor Snape it's time for your potion." His imploring black eyes conducted their daily search of her own before he swallowed down his little blue potion.
After receiving her vial back, Hermione turned to leave but Snape reached out and caught her wrist in his hand. "Thank you." He said a bit gruffly.
Hermione spun around and looked at her old Professor. In the many months that she had been coming to him, he never spoke to her. Now he was looking up at her and thanking her. She blinked trying to sort out her thoughts and could only get out one word, "Why?"
Why what exactly? Why now? Why thank her at all? Why would he take the potion for no one else but her? Why is he suddenly breaking his own pattern?
Snape stood up, his hand still holding her wrist. Logically Hermione knew he didn't remain seated all day while she wasn't there, but she hadn't seen him do anything other than sit in his little chair for months. He was looming over her now and her heart began to beat a little faster. "So many questions in your eyes now. I wanted to let you know I will be leaving tonight and your assistance is no longer required. So thank you."
Releasing her arm he turned from her and walked to the hearth of the empty fireplace. A rush of confused emotions ran through Hermione all at once and before she quite registered her actions she had taken three steps toward him and spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, "Why would you only take the potion from me?"
Silence. The moment hung suspended and Hermione was just about to give up hope of getting an answer when he finally spoke. "Your eyes. Your eyes were different."
If Hermione had been hoping for clarity, all she had receive was a bigger puzzle. She spent two months administering potions multiple times a day to the Potions Master in the hospital wing and when he was strong enough to be in his own room she began taking the potions there. Slowly he had weaned down to one last potion a day. All these months, he had refused help from anyone but her and when she was about to get an answer as to why, he gave her riddles!
She was still puzzling this when he spoke again. "The others, their eyes held nothing but pity. Pity and regret. When you looked at me there was something else."
His shoulders tensed and Hermione knew that this openness was hard for him—he was fighting it even as he was letting her in. How many times had she stood under his intense gaze wondering what he was thinking? All those times she had never once actually expected answers, but now that he had started she needed them. She held her breath in anticipation as she walked closer.
Perhaps her presence closer to him prompted him to continue. "It was there just behind your eyes. You didn't want me to get better out of pity or some misplaced guilt over having been dealt a better lot in life. You wanted me to get better simply because you believed I wasn't done yet. There was hope in your eyes. Hope enough to give an old man strength. That, Miss Granger, is why I took the potion from you. Who am I to deny such conviction?"
Whatever Hermione had expected, this was not it. Belatedly she realized that all those staring contests might have allowed her professor access to her mind. Had he probed deep enough to recall her memories he would have known, so he must have merely grazed the surface of her thoughts. Those thoughts were of him getting better and living for something more. And it was true she had never pitied the man before her even when he was near death, her motivation had always been about restoring him to his old brilliant mind. A blush crossed her features as she realized he may have been privy to some of her other thoughts.
"You read my thoughts?" the question must have come out sounding harsh since the man before her flinched.
"Yes and no. It wasn't intentional. At first, your thoughts poured from your mind willing me to get better raging against the fact that I might let myself slip away. Later I looked for those thoughts to see if they had changed into the pity the others felt. I didn't invade your mind, you could say it invaded me." He turned and flashed her a wicked grin, "I did say you have a strong conviction, a mind most healers would envy."
Hermione was once again rendered speechless and left to stare in wonder at the man before her. He'd never spoken so much to her in the whole time she knew him. The very air around them seemed to crackle with the intensity of their conversation. But the implications of his earlier statements were sinking in.
"But where are you going? When will you be back?"
He turned to face her completely, "I can't tell you. There are things I have to do still. Things that only I can do. If I come back it won't be until they're done."
"But your potion…"
"The only one I'm still taking is a modified Pepper-upper potion. Gives a bit of a boost without the cheery disposition. Apparently Poppy thought I'd try to undo your hard work by offing myself."
Hermione felt the color drain from her cheeks and the Professor must have noticed because he quickly added, "Don't worry, I won't. Not while I still have business to attend."
Everything was happening so quickly for Hermione and after he said it she realized she was worried. Months of tending to the man—being the only one who could tend to him—had turned into caring for him. She had begun to worry whether he'd recover, what he'd do when he was finally done. Now facing him leaving and rushing off to do Merlin knows what, she felt a knot growing in the pit of her stomach. That she wouldn't hear from him after he left was understood. Until his task was completed and she saw him again she'd be worried for his safety.
"Be careful."
One short curt nod and that was it. What else was there left to say?
Anyone who's spent a significant amount of time in Hogwarts will tell you the school has a magic all it's own. And perhaps that's what moved Hermione's feet forward—she was certain they weren't moving of their own accord—and what compelled her to reach out for her former Professor. All around her there was a whisper in the air. "Now. Do it Now."
She never needed clarification as to what "it" was, the moment her hand brushed her professor's arm time seemed to speed up. Her lips found his and it was the briefest of moments where she doubted herself wondering if he'd push her away and yell at her to get out, but instead his arms closed around her pulling her closer and returning her kiss with frenzied passion.
Once they started it seemed neither could stop and Hermione vaguely wondered how long they had each been craving this contact. And now that they had given in to it, kisses weren't enough. Hermione's hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they pulled on her partner's clothes and loosed his shirt. Severus Snape must have been feeling the same as he pulled at her robes discarding layer after layer.
Hermione had never felt anything like this connection before and she was helpless to fight against it. She had given herself up completely to this moment. Their passion was hungry, they needed each other and neither could have the other fast enough. His kisses moved down her neck and her lusty voice called his name, "Severus."
He paused for a moment, she had never spoken his name before had always addressed him as "Professor." Hermione wondered if this would cause him to stop, but he continued with even greater passion. Soon his hands were traveling over the skin of her stomach and her breasts while his tongue licked its way up her neck and to her ear.
As he reached her ear he pulled her closer to him and whispered one word, "Hermione." And she felt the pull to him even stronger now. Her own hands wandered over his body and she couldn't seem to get close enough. Somewhere deep in her mind she remembered something about the power of speaking names and she briefly wondered what magic they were working between them. But she had no time for these thoughts now as they were both bare and she could hardly stand the longing for him anymore.
He looked deep into her eyes and she nodded. It was all the permission he needed to push himself inside of her. She gasped and braced herself against the pain she was sure to come, but the pain lasted less than a moment before it gave way to the greatest pleasure she'd ever known.
Hermione felt as if some other force was guiding her motions, pushing her, showing her how to move. Her body rocked in time with Severus's and though she didn't know what to do exactly her body moved of it's own accord making him moan and pull her closer. When small spasms began to course through her, she heard herself call out "Severus," until the spasms built up to a point where all she could do was moan her pleasure. Her partner reached his climax with her name on his lips and it was the sweetest sound she could ever recall hearing. Exhausted and sweaty they collapsed onto the pile of discarded clothing on the floor.
It wasn't until Hermione opened her eyes that she realized she had been sleeping. When she woke they were still naked but a blanket had been pulled up to cover them and a fire had been lit in the fireplace. Surprisingly, falling asleep on a rug in front of a fire wasn't too uncomfortable when you did it in good company. She shifted a bit to change her position a little.
"Careful little witch, moving like that against a naked man has consequences."
Hermione looked up and met her partner's eyes with a challenge and a sly smile playing at her lips. "I was only trying to get comfortable," she murmured as she pushed herself against him and brushing against his manhood with her inner thigh.
Licking his lips Severus let out a low groan and Hermione was surprised yet again at her own wanton behavior. "Here, let me help," he said at the same time he rolled her over and began covering her in kisses once more. She brought her legs up around his waist guiding him toward her again.
Much later that evening they were both spent and lay naked together in front of the fire. Her head was resting on his chest while Severus traced over her arms with his fingertips. "You'll need to get back to your rooms before your missed," he observed.
Nodding she replied sleepily, "Just five more minutes," as she flattened herself against him. She liked the feel of their naked bodies pressed together.
Her reply must have been amusing as Severus laughed but didn't object. Instead he brought his other hand up and laid it on her hip and moved his hand over her side.
Bliss was a word Hermione often though foolishly exaggerated, yet here laying warm and held possessively against this man it was the only word she truly found fit her current state. She pressed a kiss to his chest before pushing herself up ad beginning to collect her clothing.
Severus made no move to get up instead he lay there naked watching her dress. The intimacy of what they shared still lingered over her and Hermione found herself pleased that Severus was looking at her body in just the way he was. It startled her from her brazen thoughts when Severus moved quickly and caught her wrist stopping the hand that was holding her skirt. Confused, Hermione looked up to see a worried expression on his face.
"There's blood," he said simply.
A quick glance down showed there was indeed blood on the skirt. Hermione looked mesmerized for a few seconds at the physical evidence from the night's passions. With a meaningful look Hermione said in a voice more confident than she felt, "I'm told that's to be expected the first time." Really the way she had acted that night it was no wonder he hadn't expected this bit of news.
By now he was sitting up completely and had reached out to hold her arms. "The first time?"
Hermione nodded with all the dignity she could muster before she realized that in Severus's expression there was no judgment. Instead she found reverence and unexpectedly the appreciation of someone given a precious treasure to keep safe. He stared at her in wonder a few moments before crushing her to his chest and holding her close. He whispered her name into his hair, as he pressed a kiss against the top of her head.
It was a while before either were willing to move but Severus eventually got up and fetched an old shirt which he transfigured into a skirt for Hermione. With a quizzical look Hermione wondered why they didn't just scourgify her old skirt, but the answer came to her in the same strange force that had guided her all night. The blood of maidenhood was a gift not to be discarded or tossed aside so easily.
Though Hermione wouldn't have admitted to her feelings before this night and in truth was too scared to put voice to them now, saying goodbye to her former Professor was one of the hardest things she had to do. She kissed him once more knowing he would be gone before she woke up later that morning.
Being muggle born, Hermione often missed the magical significance of certain events even when they came from the wealth of her own raw magical power. She had no idea of the healing power behind willingly bestowing her virginity on a man so near broken or the powerful soul magic she invoked as she passionately spoke his name for the first time. All she knew as she left the dungeons and headed back to Gryffindor tower was that Severus Snape has made such an imprint on her that from that day forward she would always feel him in her soul no matter how far from her he went.
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As always reviews are very much appreciated! Next chapter in a say or so. :)