AN: I couldn't completely let go of my fluffy sweet Sugar, something kept nagging at me...so it's continued a year later. Still a happy ending, just a bit of confusion and misunderstanding to get there. I will probably do some editing as usual...I feel like a scene or two are atill missing. Thanks for reading!
She watched Severus come through the doors of the Great Hall and sit next to Hagrid, his head bowed, his hair obstructing her view of his eyes. Before she could let her mind wander further down a dark, lonely path, she pushed away from the table, effectively spilling the remainder of her pumpkin juice on Hagrid's breakfast and forcing a blush on her cheeks. Glancing towards Severus for a moment, she found his eyes locked on her, his arms folded across his chest as though he was about to take house points, and the effect of that piercing glare reminded her instantly of what he'd been like when she was a student; she was a buck-toothed know-it-all and he had been almost as nasty as the students her age. Casting quick scourgify, Hermione thought the morning had been too much already and though she wanted to talk to him, she knew his silence meant something.
It has been a year since they'd come home from Azores and he hadn't spoken to her for an entire week, and the week before that he'd had clipped, terse conversations with her. Normally, they'd talked through his periods of melancholy, when he had flashbacks or nightmares about the attack during the final battle or from his father. For years, she'd been helping him and herself move past the things they'd experienced, but she found him in his worse snit those weeks before, despondent and flippant, he'd pushed her away and it was the first time in years that she felt the same sting of his indifference, the feeling she'd felt her entire childhood. Although she tried to smooth things over, trying every possible technique that had worked through the years, but it seemed he was determined to push her away.
She'd hoped the anniversary of their amazing trip would force him to at least tell her what had happened because every time she tried to figure it out, it only made her head hurt and her heart break. Thinking back over the month of December, their Friday teas had been normal, conversation easy, their weekends continued in a similar fashion, dinner at the Leaky Cauldron, Christmas shopping in Hogsmeade and London, where they'd run into Harry and Ginny, and had dinner with them at a new place near Grimmauld Place and Ginny had announced they were expecting again. Replaying every detail from that weekend, she came up empty handed, nothing had been different; nothing had changed. Brushing her hair mindlessly, Hermione heard a subtle knock at the door of her sitting room, so she covered herself in her night robe and tied it tightly around her. He'd gotten her the robe for her birthday that year, lamenting that she had very little green in her life. It was cashmere, soft and luxurious under her fingers; but neither the softness of her robe nor the warmth of her rooms made her feel any better as she pulled the door open and saw him, his face sullen, his arms folded tightly around him, and the distinct smell of firewhiskey on his person.
"Have you come to tell me what is bothering you?" Hermione asked, sheepishly, worried that she'd somehow done something to upset him without evening realizing. She knew she could be too much sometimes, too loud, too demanding, too exacting. It was exactly why none of her relationships had been successful; she asked for too much and sometimes couldn't give what she asked for. Meeting his eyes again, Hermione stepped aside and waited for him to walk through. She toyed with her lip without even thinking until she bit so hard she almost drew blood; why did Severus have this effect on her?
"Hermione...I…" He stammered, pinching the bridge of his nose as he slowly unfolded his arms and sat on her settee, in his usual spot, the same spot where he'd held her tightly against him, caressed her back or toyed with her hair while they read. She sighed.
Although Hermione had seen him distressed many times in their acquaintance, she had never seen him like this, unreadable, not suffering effects of panic attack or similar episode. He appeared unable to say the words he needed to say. Without pause, Hermione made tea in her kitchenette, far more worried than she'd been since the year prior, when she had debated letting him know that she loved him. Then, he'd made it easy for her eventually, giving her such personal and thoughtful gifts, showing her a side she'd rarely seen of any man, a romantic and beautiful heart lay in his chest. Looking out through the tiny window in her kitchenette, he appeared nothing like he had the year prior, and her stomach dropped. Was he ending things? 'How could he end things?' She thought to herself, looking down at the engagement ring he'd given her at Halloween and wondering for a moment if it had all been a joke, some cosmic play on her sensibilities. Turning the ring over and over, she felt a wave of nausea hit her and her words almost failed as she walked back to the sitting area.
"Sugar?" She asked, setting the tea tray down between them.
"No, thank you." His words had only sounded so terse when she'd been his student all those years before, when his life had been ruled by a madman.
"I have some chocolates I was saving for our regular tea tomorrow, but as it seems that might be interrupted, I would rather they not be wasted." Standing again, her legs feeling weak and hands shaking slightly- how would she work with him if they weren't together. How could she go back to things as they'd been before, the first years before they'd become friends. Taking the bag of Honeyduke's to the sitting area, she remembered the first time she'd known she wanted to be his friend and sighed, this was not how she anticipated her Christmas break starting. And why was her mind instantly going to the worst possible outcome? He'd never failed her since they began working together eight years prior and she had no reason to doubt him, but all rationality left her as she stared at him, his behavior so odd and unrelenting.
"Harry asked me if you were coming for Christmas dinner this year, but I didn't know what to tell him so I'll let you take care of that." Sipping her tea, Hermione gauged his behavior as she watched him over the brim of her dainty tea cup, palming the bottom and warming herself as emotions threatened to take over, the first being fright and the second sadness. It was so obvious that he wanted to end things and she felt her mind spiraling into an abyss of anger, sadness, and despondency; they weren't supposed to end like this, they weren't supposed to end.
"Hermione, I apologize if my behavior has been questionable and has upset you. I was alerted while we were in London last week that my father died." Her eyebrows shot up; his father had been alive still? She thought he'd died while Severus was still in school. Setting that thought aside, she wondered, then, why his odd behavior had started the week prior and not just when he'd found out his father died.
"I'm sorry, I had no idea." He waved her off, as though she were an errant student, hurting her more than she thought possible. He was in pain, she could see it, and Harry had told her about his childhood so she knew he was conflicted, but her own fragile ego couldn't handle his indifference towards her. Battling within herself, she set her tea down and stood as tears threatened; she wanted to comfort him, to remind him that he wasn't his father. She felt foolish and found herself for the first time in years treading on new ground with him. Placing her teac cup on the tray, she noted that he was barely looking at her, instead his focus was the row of buttons on his frock coat. If she squinted, he was the young man she'd seen in the memories Harry shared with her after the final battle. It broke her heart to see him so lost.
"I have to collect some things from Manchester, so I will be gone for Christmas and most likely New Years." It was so matter-of-fact and unlike him that she did a double take, did he really say he'd be gone for more than two weeks? Was this the man who'd given her such sentimental and sweet gifts, who walked her to classes, lounged in the garden next to her rooms and read her potions journals or from old novels he knew she loved? Without hesitation, Hermione walked away from the sitting room as quickly as her small feet would move; she couldn't look at him when he was so devastated and angry, yet showing almost none of that emotion on his face. It didn't take a psychiatrist to realize that he was hurting. And he wasn't open to her help, he was hurting and she could do nothing but endure his pain in silence. Although she hadn't considered the possibility, as she thought of his expression, the way he'd tucked his pain into his pocket like one of his handkerchiefs, she saw the old habits, the way he crawled into himself like a tortoise and pushed people who cared for him away. As though his only defense mechanism when he was faced with such a dilemma was to forget that people did love him, that there were others in the world who needed him.
Locking herself in the loo, Hermione let her tears fall, she couldn't hold them back and for the first time in ages, she didn't care to temper her emotions. Years spent trying to pretend the war hadn't affected them more then they let on, she'd become more reserved about her praise, her declarations of love, the former forward nature of her entire being, but right at that moment, she felt her world crumble again. Leaning against the sink, she wiped her eyes and tried to blow her nose, then exited the loo, daring to put her arms around Severus' shoulders as he sat. He stiffened, his breath hitched and without another thought he threw her off of him, his first reaction being that of a different life; she hit the wall in one resounding thump, hard enough to cause her vision to blur and her mind to turn itself into survival mode. In her mind, she's reasoned that if this was the last time she'd hold him, she wanted to at least try, but her emotions had gotten the best of both of them and she'd miscalculated greatly to her immediate dismay. The burning in her wrist hurt first, then a gentle throb in her lower back alerted her to a new problem, immediately consuming her thoughts, she knew she needed to get off the floor and go to the infirmary, she knew things could be worse than she imagined. Anger pervaded all other emotions immediately as she felt the weight of his rejection settle upon her, she'd only been to Poppy three weeks before to talk about going off potions when they came home from their honeymoon but she felt that none of her former feelings mattered at all. With all of her strength, she forced her eyes upon his and her hands in motion. Her own anger boiled over; she lost her empathy for him in that moment and instead was consumed by the rejection she felt, the anger over his inability to talk to her, she refused to look at him. Pain gave way to sadness and then anger as she realized that no matter how much she tried, he would inevitably push her away when he was incapable of handling his life. It was how he'd handled everyone he loved, as far as she knew, and in that moment she was unable to deal with his rejection and let her own anger take precedence.
"Leave!" She yelled at him, opening the door to her rooms wandlessly, trying to stand as her body fought pain and her heart pounded recklessly against her chest. It took her very little time to send the tea service back to her kitchenette and then to watch him, staring at her in horror, obviously surprised by his own actions. He stood motionless by her settee.
"I have asked you to leave, unless you'd like to explain to Madame Pomfrey how I've managed to hurt myself like this." The tears which had dried were back, her face puffy and red, she walked closer to him, her hand pointed at the door; when he finally walked through it, she fell to the ground, clutching her knees to her chest, wondering desperately how things had gone so wrong. She could tell from the expression on his face that he hadn't meant to hurt her, but it still didn't lessen her pain; in fact, it made things worse because now upon her typical fears and anxiety, she felt guilt.
Hours later when Hermione had finally calmed down, she wrote to him, explaining all of her thoughts and feelings from the previous week and how desperately she had wanted to help him. Although she knew she needed to go to the infirmary, she felt more compelled to reach out to him. She replayed the earlier meeting and how quickly he'd thrown her off, how easily he'd waved her away, and how incredibly distant he'd been. For once since they had become friends, she had no one to ask about his behavior, no one to consult as to how to approach him again; though to be truthful, part of her never wanted to see him again. She knew it was just her anger and disappointment taking hold of her senses, but she still felt betrayed by him. Before finishing the letter, she toyed with the charms on her bracelet, and wondered if she'd ever see that side of him again and why he had suddenly and drastically changed .
Letter in hand, she walked to his quarters, taking steps quietly, her tiny feet padding the stones of the castle, disturbing no one as she walked. She doubted he'd be in his rooms or that he'd answer the door if she knocked, so she used the advantage of his wards to let her in. What she found was shocking- his rooms were completely empty, his furniture set up as though he'd never been there. It was then the pain from earlier caught up with her, the worry and stress of the week hadn't made things easier and without thinking she fell on his settee and cried, dropping her letter and eventually passing out from her pain. Hours later, a house elf discovered her and brought her to the infirmary where Madame Pomfrey proceeded to treat her injuries before trying to contact Severus, seeing the engagement ring shining brightly from her left hand, wondering why he wasn't with her. Madame Pomfrey had been surprised yet not shocked in the least when Hermione had shared that they were engaged, but seeing her this way, she couldn't help but question if something terrible had happened between them. Although Poppy believed Snape to be a genuine man who had given so much of his life to the order and the school, she knew he was prickly, she just never anticipated that he'd hurt Hermione. Digging deeply within her mind and remembering all she knew of Severus, she reminded herself that she didn't have the full story and judgement was best put off until she could speak to them.
Whether due to her injuries, the stress of the week and evening of Severus' departure, Hermione didn't wake completely until two days before Christmas Eve, turning sorely in her bed and reaching immediately for the water she saw glistening in the moonlight on the bedside table . A shadow passed her cot and for a moment she thought it was Severus, but she knew he was gone. Bringing her legs tightly to her chest, she tried to wind herself into the tightest ball possible, feeling her tight muscles and stiff bones fighting her as she did. Within minutes, she was asleep again, unaware that the shadow had actually been Severus, that it was his potions helping her heal and his hands performing healing spells on her as she slept.
The next time she woke, Madame Pomfrey was adjusting her blankets and pouring potions into a cup for her to drink.
"How long have I been here?" Hermione asked, her voice cracking as she tried to sit up, finding her head still pounding.
"Four days; I kept you asleep for the first two because the pain you were in was better not felt in consciousness. Drink this, Severus brewed it an hour ago." Madame Pomfrey's words were stilted but calming, as though perhaps Severus had told her what happened in her quarters. Madame Pomfrey watched as Hermione's eyebrows shot up at the mention of Severus' name and was thankful she hadn't passed judgement for an accident.
"Thank you." Hermione replied, sighing as her eyes filled with tears. She just wanted to understand what happened because the images and fears of her mind made it entirely unlikely that she would rest easy or assume the best instead of the worst. She'd lost her optimism for the first time in years, replacing it with fear and hurt, the kind that made her worry she'd never forgive him for hurting her. What if he meant to hurt her on purpose? What if he truly never wanted to see her again? The potion hit her slowly, making her vision hazy, the release of oxytocin in her mind pervading all other thoughts as her eyes closed slowly, this time she was sure she'd seen Severus walk over to Poppy, his head bowed, glancing to her only momentarily. Their conversation was too quiet for her to make out, so she let her eyes fall closed and slipped into sweet sleep.
SSHGSSHG
Hermione left for Grimmauld Place two days later, healed enough for apparition and somewhat excited to at least get out of the infirmary. She hadn't seen Severus since she woke again hours after Madame Pomfrey had given her. Part of her felt determined to not let what happened between them ruin her Christmas break but another part of her couldn't let it go. Opening the door of Grimmauld Place, Hermione was greeted immediately by James and Lily Potter, bundled in winter clothes to go play in the snow.
"I thought you'd never get here, Aunt Hermione...gosh it feels weird calling you that again." James threw his arms around her, a slight twinge of her lower back reminded her she hit a wall several days before, but she smiled through the pain and gave her student and nephew a hug, putting her arms around both of the Potter offspring.
"Go enjoy yourselves in the snow before everyone else gets here." Harry said, coming to take Hermione's bag to the third floor room she always used when she stayed with them, the one she'd stayed in after the war before she'd gone to Hogwarts to teach.
"Come, we need to talk." Harry held his hand out for her and before she could even respond, her eyes filled with tears. The sharp slamming of the door brought her back to the kitchen, the smell of Earl Grey tea and Ginny's baking.
"Severus came to see me yesterday,still I didn't quite know what to expect when you came through the door." He extended his hand to her again, a handkerchief and the warmth of his hand made her feel incredibly cared for in a moment of terrible bleakness and fear.
"I don't know what's happened, Harry, I'm sad and confused, I…I love him so much...I…" Her words were choked out, through slobbery tears and snot. Harry had seen her in worse ways, so she didn't temper herself at all, she simply let her guards down, pushing her thoughts into his, forcing him to see the behavior she'd witnessed from Severus over the weeks prior and then the last meeting, how she'd tried to fix things and then when she'd hit the wall, the immediate pain she'd felt.
"He showed me the same images, but somehow seeing it all again doesn't lessen the shock." Harry immediately poured them both tea, hearing Ginny come down the stairs and walk past the kitchen and to the front yard where their children were building a snowman.
"Did he say...did he say why?"
"No, he only left this for you," Harry handed her a package, watching her open it without caution or concern for the contents. He saw her face fall as she pulled her letters out, notes he'd kept over the years, the pictures of them together at different functions at the school, and lastly a slip of paper with the words, 'Severus Snape lives at Spinner's End.' Hermione's eyes snapped up to Harry's, still questioning what it all meant.
"Why would he give me all this? What has happened?" Harry looked just as confused as Hermione; although their relationship had never entirely made sense to him, he'd thought they were well suited and happy. In Hermione's darkest hour, Severus Snape had given her refuge and friendship at Hogwarts, even when it seemed like no one could reach her. The near death of her parents when errant Death Eaters found them on vacation in Majorca forced her to face events from her final years at Hogwarts, the distance that had developed like a canyon between she and her parents as she attended the school. She was so different than them, her life full of misadventure and heartache, and then triumph. It had been too difficult for her to explain to them, so she hadn't. After giving them their memories back and returning them to England, Hermione simply went through life with them as though there had been no Voldemort, no final battle, no loss of so many people she'd loved. It forced her to admit she hated her job at the Ministry and decided to join the staff at Hogwarts until she figured out what suited her life best. In arithmancy, she found logic and reasoning for her life, and then she'd found Severus.
"Harry, I feel so stupid." Immediately, Hermione took the package, stuffed everything in it and walked the stairs slowly, her body protesting as she climbed. For a moment she contemplated apparating to Spinner's End and confronting Severus, but she thought better of it and instead, she walked into her room, wiped her eyes and changed into her Weasley sweater before taking another dose of her potion, weakened to make her comfortable but not drowsy, and went to the kitchen as guests arrived for Christmas Eve dinner. She played with Phillip and Giles, Ron's sons, before they all played White Elephant. No one asked about Severus, no one asked about her parents. She felt a spectral in their celebrations, participating on the fringe while her heart and mind played a dangerous game of guessing.
At midnight, when everyone had left, she donned her cloak and apparated to Spinner's End, the weather was worse in Manchester than it had been in London and she found herself ankle deep in sloshy snow. It fell quickly from the sky, the snow, but she found it rather beautiful as she walked to Severus' home, wondering what lay in store for her beyond the darkened walls of the industrial city. Steps away from his stoop, Hermione stood motionless as his door opened before she could even knock. He looked far worse than he had days before, his face gaunt and without emotion, simply a stale look, one he gave when his students angered him but he didn't want to resort to his old antics. Stopping in her tracks, she felt like the distance between them was too great and the last few steps would mean that he could tell her goodbye officially, since he hadn't had the nerve before...so she stopped, and looked at him. Staring into his eyes as though she knew exactly what he was going to say, she chose to divert her eyes to the snow, looking up and letting it hit her face. The cold chilled her bones, making her sore back and leg muscles, her wrist tingle as though she had arthritis. He thought she looked like an angel.
"Come inside, it's too cold and you're covered in snow." His voice was low but warm, a hint of the man she loved. Disobeying him, she put her arms out and turned in the snow. It hadn't snowed much when she was a child in suburban London, but when she went to school in Scotland, it was more snow than she could ever fathom. It brought happy memories, times before life became complicated with dark wizards, including the one before her. Instead of walking into his home, Hermione wondered if he still loved to be drizzled by the rain and snow, so she stopped, turning to him and holding out her hand, beckoning him to join her in the snow. It was an impasse- he wanted her inside where she was safe and she wanted him outside to prove that his heart wasn't completely gone, that he didn't despise her, that he was sorry he'd hurt her. She vowed to herself if he didn't come out into the snow, that she'd leave; any bad news he needed to give her could wait. Turning again, she felt the snow hit her face and it felt like every happy thought she could conjure- if she'd had to cast a patronus, it would've been one of the strongest she could create. Closing her eyes, she gave herself a few seconds before looking towards him again, but she needn't look again, she heard the snow crunching as he walked to stand at her side, his arms tight at his sides; she could see he was afraid to touch her. Putting both of her hands on the wool cloak he wore, she looked up to him, trying her best to project her feelings, the remorse, the fear, the hurt and hoped he would be honest with her about whatever had made him pull away from her.
"Hermione…" One of his hands reached up to her face, brushing her hair back, the snow slowly melting in her tight curls. Without another pause, he pulled her into his arms, enveloping her so tightly a small yelp reminded him that he thrown her across a room with his magic. The guilt of his actions was immediately clear to Hermione who heard him gently cry. Ignoring the pain, she pulled him even closer, wrapping her arms around his waist and listening as his heart beat rapidly in his chest, the gentle rumble of his tears forced her own to start again.
"Please tell me what I did. I didn't mean to mess things up...I…" Leaning back, she felt his tears and the snow on her face, "I love you, Severus." His face fell.
"Hermione, you did nothing wrong. Come, let's warm up, I have to tell you some precarious news I received and have selfishly been hiding from you." Stepping away from her, he extended his hand and walked her to his doorstep, casting drying spells on them before they crossed the threshold.
"Tea?" He nervously asked as she clutched her cloak tighter around her body. She'd never been to Spinner's End in all their acquaintance but she found the sitting room rather lovely and warm compared to the stories she'd heard from Harry.
"Yes, it's been a long day." Her hand shook as she grasped the small saucer and cup, it rattled for a moment before she focused.
"First I have to apologize to you, Hermione, I was selfish and prideful, I hurt you." She took a gulp of tea and listened, fearing the worst.
"Are you sick? Are the tremors back, from the venom?"
"Please, just let me talk, I promise I will answer all your questions, I should've weeks ago but I...this is new territory to me, loving someone, being open with someone beyond what we've had for the last six years, even the two when we were marginally more than colleagues. I have never given to a friend what I once gave, before the darkness took over my life, and often when I am faced with life-changing events, I seek refuge in old habits. A few weeks before we were shopping in London, I got some disparaging news, news I knew would hurt you and I selfishly retreated from you, taking myself out of the equation for a moment, wondering if your life would continue better without me…"He looked up at her, seeing her pleading eyes and tears, he had hoped he would never make her cry but it had been a futile hope. Setting her tea cup and saucer down, Hermione wiped her eyes and tried to listen to him, feeling her heart breaking with each word, feeling sure he was leaving her.
"Severus, please tell me, if you want this back, I'll give it to you, if it means we'll be friends again, well that's all I really wanted from you all these years, falling in love with you was just a happy accident, for me at least." She removed the ring from her finger, holding it in her palm upright and pointed towards him. Within seconds, he was at her feet, her hands cradled in his as he slipped the ring back on her finger. Slowly his eyes traveled from her hand to her face, the worry on her face unnerved him.
"You may wish to give this back of your own accord, but I will not take it from you. I don't deserve you, Hermione Jean, not for one minute more and I understand if you can never forgive me for hurting you...I never wanted to be my father, he hurt my mother, more times than I can count and I swore that would never be me, but look what I've done to you." He bowed his head and held her hand against his cheek, taking in the scent of her as he did, remembering how she smelled like Christmas most of the year.
"Severus, look at me, " tilting his chin towards her, Hermione winced as her wrist turned awkwardly, "I can forgive you, you know, but I need a reason, what made you so despondent, so uncaring? You ignored me for an entire week...we've never gone that long without speaking before."
"I'm so sorry, I promise it wasn't anything you did. I was afraid and ashamed." Her mind was racing, thoughts of a mistress, a potions accident, anything that would explain how distraught he was kneeling before her.
"Please, whatever it is, just tell me." She implored him, bringing his hand to her mouth and kissing it softly.
"I will never be able to give you children. The healer I saw confirmed my own suspicions; years of cruciatus and other curses has made me sterile. Then I received news that my father died, it was a weight I hadn't expected to carry. I didn't know how to tell you how angry I was, how much I wanted to destroy everything in my quarters if it meant I could get one more moment with my mother who he practically killed and the thought that he was able to have a child and I can never give you that, it was unbearable. When I came to your quarters, I wanted to give myself distance so I didn't take that anger out on you...it flowed out of me in such a dangerous way, I just couldn't control it. I'm so sorry, I hurt you and I know that you may never trust me again, but I swear I would never hurt you on purpose, Hermione, I would never do what Tobias did. I didn't deserve your compassion and there you were, crying over some stupid old man, and trying to show me that you cared and my anger, it just took over." He saw many emotions cross her face and felt her hands drop.
"I wasn't crying because Tobias Snape died, Severus, I was crying because I thought you were going to call off our engagement...I was crying because I was sure that his death was hurting you even if you didn't know how to express it...I was crying because I thought I would be without you again." Bowing her head, she closed her eyes and let his words sink in; they would never have children. How badly had she wanted them in the first place? Had they ever even talked about it? Sure, she'd thought about dark-haired little boys who tumbled recklessly around the castle grounds or a raven-haired girl who spent too much time in the library, with beautiful large eyes like his and smooth skin. But, if that never happened, would it mean their life was any less important, any less valid if they didn't reproduce?
"How can you ever forgive me? When Poppy let me in the infirmary, she threatened to call the aurors to take me away. I had no idea how badly you were hurt until I saw for myself...I am a monster." He dropped his head into her hands, practically bowing to her and admitting defeat. She hated to see him this way, even if her anger had made her blind to his pain and painfully unwilling to give him time to explain. Taking his chin between her finger and thumb, she made him look at her, his eyes brimming with tears.
"Severus, we looked at the memory so many times and it is clear you did spontaneous magic. You didn't mean to hurt me and I didn't help things by trying to comfort myself instead of seeing that you needed space. Look at me," He refused, his eyes were tightly shut again, "Severus, look at me." His dark eyes finally met hers and she saw his doubt and disappointment, the deluge of emotions he'd held off for so many years hitting him all at once in a huge burst of sudden, painful realization. Every hex, every slap to the face, every thought he'd held in about Tobias' alcoholism and hitting his mother, calling Lily a mudblood, joining Voldemort's ranks, all the terrible things he'd done before going back to Dumbledore and admitting defeat, the way he'd treated Harry and her, every single moment of pain and regret rushed through him in a spasm, as Hermione knelt down to him, putting her arms around him and pulling him close. Gently, she rocked him like she'd done during a panic attack, trying to pace his breathing and hoping he didn't have another spontaneous magic episode.
"I love you." He whispered, softly enough she almost missed it. In response, she kissed his wet cheeks and helped him stand. Taking his hand in hers, she led him up the stairs and based upon his conversations about Spinner's End she knew his room was the first on the right at the top of the stairs. She left him for only a moment on the queen sized bed, walking to the loo for a flannel, she warmed it under the faucet and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror- had her eyes always seemed so impossibly large? It took her only a few steps until she was next to him, kneeling before him as he had been downstairs, she took her face in her hands again and gently washed his cheeks, pushing some of his hair behind his ears, she left the warm flannel settle on his neck for a moment before going to rinse it again and returning, motioning for him to lie on his stomach after she unbuttoned his frock coat and stripped him down to his white shirt and drew circles on his back, walked the length of his vertebrae as he shuddered beneath his touch, then ran her hands through his hair, moving to lie next to him, controlling her own breathing.
"You know I love you, Severus, and there's nothing you could tell me right now that would change that, even if you said you'd been with a whore all week, I'd love you...I wouldn't like you much and you'd probably be in St. Mungo's right now, but I'd still love you because that's the thing about love, our love is inimitable, our love has survived so many bad moments, so many painful memories...I'm not willing to give it up. So, if you think not being able to father a child with me is what's going to break us, I have to disagree. We have nieces and nephews, we have a school full of children and so none of them are genetically related to us, we can still have valid, full lives. Is it that important to you?" She stilled her fingers and propped her head on her palm, leaning towards him to kiss his pouty lips.
"I thought it was what you wanted." He shyly replied; she hadn't seem him like this since the second time he'd come to her after a particularly rough day in the potions classroom. A student had transfigured one of the stirrers to be a snake and though he knew it wasn't real, he'd barely kept it together as the children filtered out of the room. He'd waited for in her quarters, huddled in her kitchenette, a hand gently covering the scar at his neck.
"Severus, I would've loved to carry your child, but if that isn't in our future, it doesn't mean I don't want to marry you or…" But her words were cut short as his lips met hers in frenzied need, as though he had died once more and been reborn, he kissed Hermione as his savior, she had an incredible habit for saving him, over and over. In a few short moments, he had maneuvered her down on the mattress, caressing her hair, each tendril a lifeline, and kissing her softly before gently resting his free hand on her stomach.
"I know you would've been glorious with child. I"m so sorry." Burying his head next to her, her hair enveloping him like devil's snare, he didn't cry this time but Hermione could tell it was his disappointment causing his malaise; it was so obvious that he'd wanted a child, a chance to prove that all Snape men weren't alcoholics who hurt their wives and abandoned their children.
"We'll just steal Harry's new child, it'll probably have dark hair, we can make it work." She tried to lighten the mood, to help him see that it wasn't the end of everything. Finally, she heard a deep rumble from him.
"If you think I would ever raise a Potter, you are sadly mistaken." His tone was more malicious than he'd meant, but in the moment he couldn't muster sarcasm or comedy.
"So you don't want to be godparents? They've asked me, for both of us...but I didn't want to answer for you, as usual, my prickly fiance." Pulling him into another kiss, she felt him shift, felt his body cocooning hers in perfect symmetry. Trailing kisses down her neck, Severus stopped only for a moment and looked into her eyes and although he'd smiled, she could see he was still upset.
"Severus, please."Pushing him off of her, she leaned over him as he fell on the bed once more, staring directly at the ceiling, his face betraying little about his thoughts. For a moment, Hermione could feel her resolve breaking; she had finally found the threshold of her patience and pain, the place where she wanted to walk away because she couldn't fix him. She could barely fix herself, how could she think to make him feel better about anything. And without another thought, she pushed herself off of the bed, going to the loo with the damp flannel and trying to make herself breath, she knew if she could just feel the warmth of the flannel for a moment, her resolve would return and she could face the desolation of the man she loved.
It was unclear to her how much time passed as she stared at her reflection again, the hot water running over her fingers before it, too, turned cold. She'd come to Spinner's End expecting to be told that she was no longer marrying Severus Snape, to be told that what they had wasn't enough for him...but he'd told her there would be no children, his father was dead and his insecurities, for once, greatly outweighed her own. Was this really what she wanted for the rest of her life? Was this man, who was broken, the right husband, partner, man to spend the next hundred years with, his cantankerous mouth and stale remarks, the way he turned his nose up at her former cat or the way he still held onto house rivalries as though it had mattered at all since the fall of Voldemort? Deep in thought, she didn't feel her legs start to give, the weight of her injuries causing a shooting pain to hit down the back of both her legs and she fell awkwardly on the tile floor. Rubbing her legs and then her face, Hermione wondered if she'd ever had such an emotional Christmas before, and then remembered going to Godric's Hollow the year they searched for horcruxes. That had been the worst Christmas and yet, they'd survived and she knew she would survive because she was programmed that way. Her optimism took over and she started to think of Severus as he'd been when she first came back to Hogwarts. He appeared lonely but with no desire to make new friends, no desire to catch up with another soul who'd survived the machinations of Voldemort and Albus Dumbledore, and though it took two years, she saw in him someone she didn't want to let go.
Before she could really process the sensation, she felt Severus lifting her and taking the flannel from her hands. No other words were spoken that night, just a quick note to the Potters from Severus and then curling up in the bed. He watched her for hours and she could sense it, even in her deep sleep. There was something incredibly comforting sleeping next to him, she lost the worries she'd held for many years following the war curled in his arms. She knew there would be time for talking in the morning and couldn't imagine trying to carry on a conversation in her odd stupor. At some point in the night, she felt his arm wrap around her tightly, possessively, and though she eventually became too warm, she couldn't make herself pull away from him.
SSHGSSHG
A light woke her first, bright and threatening as her body fought her to move. Severus was already gone, so she took her time, finding a pain potion on the end table and downing it quickly. While her legs still felt like jelly, the pain in her lower back and wrist was virtually gone, so she stretched and threw her legs over the side, only to be greeted by Severus who was at the door with breakfast. Shyly, she smiled, thinking about how much better he appeared that morning; his face had a touch of color unlike the night before when he'd appeared pale and stark, a face she hadn't seen in years aside from the moments of his panic attack. Taking the hot cup of tea in her hand, she motioned for him to join her and they had an impromptu picnic on his bed.
"You're spoiling me again, Severus." Slathering the jam she loved from Marks and Spencers, she took a large bite of the scone and giggled as it crumbled in her hand, jam smearing her face. "I'm a child, I swear." Her laughter filled the room and for a moment she saw that Severus chuckled a bit. It seemed relatively normal for a moment, but she saw the shadow descend, taking Severus' jolly mood with it.
"Severus?" Her voice was meek as she set her tea and scone down, wiping her hands on a napkin, she reached for his, moving the tray as she did and forcing their knees to touch.
"Why did you run from me last night?" She felt him tremble as he spoke, and for a moment her empathy disappeared again; he'd ignored her for days and though she hoped he would eventually explain, in the moment she felt she deserved the mental break she'd taken in the loo. She needed to question her motives, her desires, her fears, but feeling him tremble slightly broke her heart. With a heavy sigh, she let go of his hands for a moment, smoothing her hair back and into a loose bun, her eyes misting as she did. It seemed that few moments of her Christmas would be spent without crying.
"I didn't run, I just...felt like there was no way I could reassure you. It broke me, honestly and made me question whether you trusted me at all." Closing her eyes for a moment, Hermione felt his hand brush a curl away from her eyes and then take her hands in his again, fitting perfectly as though they'd found their home; he looked incredibly sad, she'd seen him angry, annoyed, happy, but never quite this forlorn.
"I do trust you, I trust you with my life, and I didn't want to lose you over something I had no control over. I have been manipulated my entire life, first by Tobias, then arrogant Slytherins, one dark lord, one headmaster...I didn't want this to dominate our marriage. I worried that this would be the thing that finally separated us."
"But you didn't tell me until I forced you; you were effectively separating us yourself." She brought his left hand to heart and rested it there. "Only death will separate us, Severus, well, I guess unless you mean to leave me. You talk about things 'finally separating us', do you really believe me so inconstant?" She tried to get him to smile, to accept that she was genuinely concerned for him, that she loved him unconditionally. "Look, we're both a bit pessimistic about this because neither of us has a good track record in relationships. I mean, look at me, I'm sure I was in love with you for years and couldn't tell you, and not because I didn't want to, I was scared. You're scared right now and I completely understand, I swear, and I am not going to be dishonest and say that this was good news…" She paused and looked towards the window where the snow had started again. "I wanted your children, I have always hoped to be part of a large family since I was an only child, but we have that. By extension we have a massive family, and that's enough for me, I promise." Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close and trying her best to convince him that she was being honest, that she did love him so much it hurt her to see him in pain.
"I thought you were leaving me, " she whispered in his ear, "please never leave me." Taking her hands, she cupped his face and pulled his lips towards hers, kissing him passionately as though it was the last time she might have the chance. Leaving him for only a few seconds to move the tea tray and then claim her place in his arms again, pulling him towards the headboard as they stretched out together. Tucking her head beneath his chin, she twirled circles on his spine again, using her fingers to spell out 'Hermione Snape' though she thought to keep her name since she'd already published articles under her maiden name and was widely known as Granger.
"If it could be, I'd never be apart from you." Severus finally said, kissing the top of her head and then angling her face so he could conquer her mouth. Hermione had never heard him say something so romantic and unlike him; sure, there had been words exchanged many times of their mutual affection, but to see and hear him so transparent took her breath away. She couldn't form words, instead she nipped his lips a few times and then raised her eyes, meeting him in a staring contest, finding depths in those dark eyes that had soothed her so often over the years. It took very little for her to melt into him, to forgive that he'd once again retreated because there were time when she wanted to retreat as well, when things were too heavy and people too demanding. It wasn't difficult for her to empathize with him, but she also didn't want it to become commonplace between them that when reaching what seemed like an impasse, he or she chose to walk away.
"You know, we need to work on your trust in me, Severus. Although we've been great friends, this part of our relationship is still relatively new and I don't want when things become more difficult that we retreat from each other. I don't want to play games...not that I think you were purposely trying to hurt me...I just…" She felt herself floundering, she didn't want to anger him or make him feel guilty, but it was something that needed to be addressed.
"It's difficult to change a lifetime of reaction, but I endeavor do better for you." As though they were magnetically attracted to her face, his fingers traced the roundness of her eyes, the crease between them where her brow furrowed, often in contemplation but sometimes in annoyance with him, and then her lips, soft and warm he leaned into his her, replacing the coolness of his fingers with the heat of his mouth.
"I love you, Severus, I always will, and I don't care if that makes me sound like a bleeding-heart Gryffindor. You need to be told and often, otherwise I fear you'll forget." Pulling away from her momentarily, he studied her expression and knew he didn't relish seeing it; she looked like she had the night before, when she'd left him for the loo.
"I will not forget, I promise." He whispered into her ear, adding moments later how much he loved her as well. Her stomach rumbled having not been filled enough earlier, but she didn't mind if it meant she got to stay cozy in his arms for a while longer.
"Let's finish breakfast and we can celebrate Christmas more appropriately. I'm sure the Potters are curious about your absence by now." Reluctantly, she moved away from him and back to the delicious breakfast he'd conjured for them, relishing the jam as she caught herself staring at him like a lovesick first-year, but she couldn't help it. Pushing the tray between them, she reached for his hand for a moment and held it tightly as she finished the food on her plate. It didn't seem possible that they'd worked things out, that the pain she'd felt when he'd pushed her away could ebb in his honesty.
"Shower?" Pushing the tray away again, his eyebrows quirked and for a moment he contemplated her.
"How about we get married today." He offered, a trade from her idea of a shower and saw a multitude of emotions cross her face before a smile so large it was certainly Christmas.
"You really think we should?"
"I wouldn't have brought it up if I didn't. What's the point in waiting, really? We could've gotten married when I asked you and I would've been ready, only this setback made me question whether you'd want to and since you do, I'd like to get that shored up before you change your mind." Taking his hand, she led him to his bathroom and though she'd only been in it once before, she knew her way around it well enough. Turning the taps, she undressed him, allowed the water to get warm enough for him, he always liked it hotter than she did. Kissing him, softly at first and then with passion that had been broiling for years, she led him into shower, the cold stone floor a far contrast to the heat wafting from the steam, enveloping both of them in a cozy cocoon. Lifting the flannel and soap she began to wash his back, the length of his arms, and when he turned to face her she revelled in him, the touch of color in his cheeks, the way his eyes seemed to consume her entirely and before she could think further, sink into the depths of fathomless eyes, his lips covered hers and she felt certain that marrying him was possibly the best Christmas she could possibly imagine, even with obstacles and the unfortunate misunderstanding, Hermione knew her life was better having had Severus in it.
"What are you thinking so deeply on?" His words traveled on the water, his teeth gently nibbling the soft skin at her neck, her earlobe, and then back down.
"On whether my future husband prefers his wife to come to the marriage bed virtuous and meek or wanton and wiley."
"How about both and then I decide later once I've had a taste of your wares." She giggled for a moment, trying to imagine herself dominating him when she much preferred herself to be dominated, the thought alone, of him instructing her, made her shiver.
"Tasted my wares, huh?" He splashed her a bit, then pulled her close. "Yes, madam, sweet…" She cut him off, "like sugar?" He finally added after contemplating her, sizing her up, enjoying his free view of her delectable form, "Like sugar and perhaps something with a hint of spice." It took only one step to reach his face and pull it down to hers, to put her arms around his neck, fingers in his hair.
"I'll show you spicy."
Some hours later they arrived at Grimmauld Place, situations explained and asked for an interlude to get their marriage license from the Ministry and before dinner they were wed, off after a hefty meal, a devilish game of White Elephant, and hugs and kisses from their surrogate families, to Terceira, to truly solidify that they were going to work together, for the other, and that if it ever should arise, another life-altering week of news, they'd ford that stream when it came.