disclaimer: who owns these characters and world? JKR who owns this song? Seether

AN: this song is Tied My Hands by Seether. I have to say that the first part of this story i am crazy happy with but the rest...well not so happy. enjoy my firends!

Can you remember when

When we used to live

Never in distress?

Or can you picture then

When we used to pride

Ourselves on neatness?

It had been so long since they had lived without constant fearof what was to come that now that the threat was at bay everything seemed, dare they think it, boring. It was quite unlike before they knew of danger and mortal peril; now everything was mundane when it used to be happy, carefree and full of promise. Everything in both of their lives always had a place and that's the way they preferred it. Always planning their next move meticulously and assuring that they had a back up plan for anything that could possibly go wrong. Of course the war had changed things and they no longer cared as much as they once had.

The relationship, if you can even call it that, started almost as soon as the battle was over. They both were looking for something to fill the void in their hearts that the war had left. They had lost so many people that were close to them, more her than him. He never really had all that many people that he cared about but the one's that had meant something were gone and all that was left was an overwhelming emptiness.

She had come to him a few weeks after the battle, after the seemingly never ending funerals had finally ceased. He was sitting in front of the fireplace with a half empty bottle of Ogden's in his hand when the girl entered the room. She hadn't knocked or announced herself in any way; he didn't really care he just thought it laughable that two months ago his rooms would have been warded and protected and she wouldn't have been able to do such a thing. How times have changed.

She walked slowly and carefully into the room, it was almost as if she was afraid of something. Maybe she was but it didn't stop her from making her way over to where he was sitting. She sat down on the floor in front of him and drew her knees up to her chest. For awhile they sat in uncomfortable silence; he stared into the dancing flames and she stared at the bottom of his pants.

"It's over," she whispered suddenly.

"Yes," was his earnest reply.

The silence washed over them again and it was at least 15 minutes before she lifted her eyes to look up at his face and ask, "Why doesn't it feel like it's over? Why are we so empty now?"

He shifted his eyes from the fire to the girl. The large brown glistening doe eyes looking up at him were the same eyes that he had known for the last seven years but these eyes had no light and no spark. This war had destroyed her fire and in turn it had destroyed her. "I have no way to answer that question Miss Granger."

She sighed, "Couldn't you at least try to answer it?"

"No." He watched her close her eyes tight willing herself not to cry as she dropped her chin back to rest on top of her knees . "Now now Miss Granger I don't say that to be unreasonable. What I mean is that the reasons one feels the way they feel are decidedly different. Which is to say that the reason you feel empty is most likely not the same reason that I myself feel empty."

"You feel it too." He knew it was a statement not a question but he still felt the need to nod his head in agreement. He could hear no surprise in her voice even though he was sure that most of his students didn't think he could feel such debilitating emotions. Of course if he really stopped to think about it was Hermione Granger like most of his students, she was most definitely not. If she were she wouldn't have came to him the first place and like wise he wouldn't have allowed her to stay in the room disturbing his peace.

They sat in silence for hours. He continued to drink and stare into the flames while she hugged her knees and rocked gently side to side. She needed to be near someone that wasn't going ask her if she was alright or if she wanted to talk. No she didn't want to talk nor did she want to think or remember. All she wanted was to be able to feel something besides the suffocating hollowness that had taken over her life.

Without giving much thought to what she was doing she let her knees open slightly and pressed her palms into the carpet to push herself up. He hadn't even acknowledged that she had moved so she took a moment to stretch her body before taking the few steps to where Snape was seated. Still he did not look away from the flames. His face was solemn, his lips set in a soft line, the reflection of the fire dancing in the blackness of his eyes, seeing him this way made Hermione want to scream. This was not the man that she remembered. He had been destroyed just like her and she felt childish entertaining the thought but all she could think was that living this way wasn't fair. She leaned over a touch and used both her hands to uncurl his fingers from the neck of the whiskey bottle. As she placed the bottle on the floor beside the chair she noticed that he had finally turned from the flames and was now focused completely on her.

Her fingertips ghosted across his cheekbone as she brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. The contact sent a signal to his own hand and suddenly the fingers that had been on his face were pulled to his lips. Hermione sighed and lowered herself to straddle Severus' lap. His hands settled on her waist; they did not caress or knead her soft flesh no, his hands trembled against her. The blackness of his eyes peered into her's silently asking her what it was that she wanted. The only answer that could be given was to place her small cold hands on either side of his face and press her lips to his. This would not be a fiery passion filled kiss; on the contrary this kiss was the combination of a wizard's loneliness and a witch's overwhelming sorrow. This kiss was desperation. There would be no battle here. Hermione's lips pressed gently to Severus' and her mouth opened to his as they both sought to swallow the other person's pain. Their tongues rolled across one another; his mouth tasted of strong whiskey while in hers lingered a glimpse of the honey that had been in her tea. Her hands relaxed and moved down to his neck. She stroked her thumb idly along his pulse point, which pounded noticeably into her finger. His hands slid up her back; one twisted itself in her hair drawing her head back and pulling her mouth away from his exposing her throat, his other hand moved up the back of neck before he drew his fingernails from the delicate place behind her ear and across her throat before coming to rest on her breast bone.

An empty cry escaped her as Severus covered her throat in wet kisses. Hermione's body arched into him as he pulled her head back a little more and his teeth nipped at the soft skin of her throat. Severus groaned into her neck as her body pushed into his lap. Desire was slowly overtaking both of their need to feel. Hermione's hands tangled in his shirt begging, begging for him to show her mercy. His own hands moved to her shirt and ripped it apart with one forceful tug sending tiny pearl buttons flying through the air. Hermione struggled for a moment with the tattered fabric before Severus finally flicked his wand and with a murmured spell left Hermione and himself completely unclothed.

A look passed between lifeless eyes; a look of understanding, a question of sanity, and finally a look of hands being mentally tossed in the air. They both knew that this was needed to help forget, if even for just one moment. This would be their way of healing.

"Not here," Severus whispered against her neck before shifting her so that he could carry Hermione to his bed. He placed her softly on top of the cool cotton sheets before crawling up her body. His kisses were still delicate on her lips, they carried in them an air of romanticism and an underlying need to protect and to mend. Severus let his hands roam freely over Hermione's quivering body. Starting first at her hip bone before gliding up to her stomach to trace a few battle scars that littered her once perfect pale skin. He himself was not without scars but it saddened and angered him to see that someone had ripped into Hermione's flesh. Before he could stop himself his body moved down hers leaving a trail of burning kisses across the few scars that marred her beautiful skin. His tongue worshiped them almost as if her were trying to lick them away. She sighed running her fingers through his hair as he continued his journey down. He was careful not to let any of his body touch her most private of places on his way. He wanted the first part of him that touched her there to be his lips; for no reason other than she deserved to get lost in a feeling that wasn't dark. He intended to set her on fire, to make her melt. He let his breath play across her skin as he planted a kiss right below her belly button.

"Please," was merely a whisper as her body arched up into Severus again. He would not make her beg. There was a time in his life when having a writhing, pleading witch beneath him would have sent his need into overdrive but he had no inclination to hear Hermione beg. He was willing to give her everything that she needed without questioning her. When he pressed a kiss to her wet folds she moaned his name and before that moment he never would have believed that the sound of Hermione speaking his given name would be cause for an overwhelming rush of desire to flood him but it did. When his tongue entered her tight passage and his nose rubbed back and forth across her clit her hands tangled in his thin oily hair and ground her pussy into his mouth. He growled as two fingers replaced his tongue and he attached his mouth to her swollen clit. "Please," another strangled plea was called out to him. He redoubled his efforts; his fingers stroked her fast and hard while he sucked her clit into his mouth and rolled it between his teeth. It only took a moment for her body to tense and tighten around his fingers as her climax surged through her. Severus released her tiny bud from his mouth and pulled his fingers from the slick hot confines of her still convulsing pussy and locked his eyes on Hermione's before presenting his coated fingers to her. She smiled for the first time in months and then grabbed his fingers and sucking them into her mouth.

"Amazing," he whispered into Hermione's ear as he positioned his throbbing erection at her entrance. She shifted beneath him and tilted her hips up toward him. Severus slid into Hermione slowly, he kept his eyes trained on her face memorizing the new sparkle that was evident in her chocolate brown orbs and savoring the impossibly tight wet heat that was devouring his rigid length. Her eyes closed when his hips were flush against her and sighed in new found peace and acceptance. An unrelenting pace was set. Hermione's hips pushed up against Severus as he rocked into her willing him to go deeper. Severus finally pulled her legs around his waist and maneuvered them into a sitting position. This was the most intimate position that he could possibly put them in and he was using it to force away her darkness. "Let it go Hermione." Her orgasm wasn't forceful this time; it was quiet and beautiful and just the sight of her peaceful dip into enchantment was enough to pull Severus in with her.

Severus continued to hold Hermione in their seated position for quite awhile after their heartbeats had regulated. He was content to listen to her haggard breathing as he cradled the tired girl in his arms. Hermione had her forehead pressed to his chest, he in turn had his cheek resting on top of her unruly mess of curls. Peace. "I'm sorry," she said with a sniffle.

"What ever for?" Severus watched as she moved back from him and swiped her hand across his chest to remove the tears that were streaking down his skin. He hadn't realized that she had been crying. He quirked an eyebrow at her and asked, "Are you having regrets already Miss Granger?"

"Of course not," she replied scooting back off of his lap to lean against a pillow. "Sometimes people cry because they are happy." He moved back up the bed to sit beside Hermione, wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled the sheet up over their bodies. "You made me feel happy. Thank you."

I can't understand

What you meant to me

Made me wild

Then you tied my hands

You tied my hands

Months into their relationship; Severus watched as Hermione pulled her clothes back on and readied herself to leave. It was the close of another weekend of sex and quiet talks about life. Severus loathed Sundays for more than just having to return to the dunderheads the next day, now Sundays meant Hermione would leave him and he wouldn't see her until Wednesday. Sundays!

When things first began Severus would take care of his and Hermione's needs and then she would climb under his blankets and wait for him to wrap his arms around so that she could go to sleep. She had told him one night that he chased her demons away in the night and that before she had came to him she rarely slept for fear of the dreams. So for two months Hermione came to him every night and asked him to make her feel happy. The first few weeks his way with her was gentle; so afraid that anything more would tear a hole into her already tattered soul. It wasn't long before she begged for Severus to take her hard and when he did her reaction was so exhilarating that Severus was more wild than he had ever been before. Never had a witch made him feel as strong and as free but at the same time rendered him weak and bound.

As time passed Hermione's visits had dwindled down to four days a week. She was back in school and she was trying to rebuild her life and her friendships. Severus of course understood that she would need time to do what she was trying to do in her life but he hated that it took 'his' time. So on the nights that he did have her he made sure that they were filled with screams and tears and accidental declarations of love.

Looking back Severus still didn't know exactly what the witch meant to him or how he felt about her. All he knew was that he was bound to his room at night. He couldn't leave them for fear of her coming to him for comfort and him not being there. So afraid that if he wasn't there to pull her out of the darkness that she would find someone else that could. He wasn't sure how but Hermione had successfully tied him down.

Can you remember when

When we used to laugh

At those mistakes we made?

Can you picture then

How we used to drive

And never reach the end?

A year had come and gone between Severus and Hermione. Neither would have guessed that the need for comfort would have turned into such a long and drawn out affair. When Hermione first sought her ex professor out it had been strictly a way to forget; a way to forget war, to forget death, to forget the emptiness. When she realized that she was falling in love with him she tried to distance herself but it hurt too badly to even think of just giving him up completely. At first she had tried to force herself to leave after they had been intimate. She longed to say made love but to do so would require Severus to love her as well. She could remember when their relationship, such as it was began; she would accidentally call him professor when his head was nestled between her thighs and he would chuckle and ask, "Yes Miss Granger?" Which in turn caused and unstoppable bubble of laughter to escape her lips. Those moments with him were the only moments of happy truthful laughter in her life and if you asked her she would be willing to bet that they were his as well. But almost as soon as the laughter came it vanished; there was absolutely noting funny about Severus' beautiful mouth and there was nothing more serious than when that mouth was artfully bringing her to an earth shattering climax.

She always spent the weekend with him. She had told herself over and over that 'this time will be the last time,' but something would happen that would remind her of losing Ron and her emptiness would return. 'Only Severus can make me forget,' she would think. When she would arrive with that same noticeably blank expression and her eyes dark and hollow he would back her into a wall and attach his lips to hers. Hermione's fingers would dig into his shoulders as he ripped her shirt off, "Gods I've missed you." His words were always a fierce growl against her skin and he would drive into her with reckless abandon successfully ripping screams from Hermione. There was hardly a moment during those weekends that part of Severus wasn't buried somewhere within her and even as both shuddered with completion their bodies knew that there was no end in sight.

'Cos I can't understand

What you meant to me

Made me wild

Then you tied my hands

You tied my hands

They had danced the same dance for two years; Hermione would only spend the weekends, Severus consumed her darkness, Hermione would leave without saying goodbye, and Severus would be consumed by darkness. It was incomprehensible how or when he fell in love with her but he had and there was no turning back. He would not turn her away if she needed him and for however long she needed his unique form of comfort he would surrender his body to her. She need not know that he was in love. As far as he was concerned that particular piece of information would remain inside until long after his death. There were only two reasons that he was unwilling to disclose his love to Hermione neither of which was because he was a coward, he told himself this over and over trying to convinve himself that it was true. Reason one; he did not want to cause Hermione any undue stress. By that of course he meant that he did not want to introduce feelings and push her into leaving him. Reason two; he could see no reason to mention love to someone who obviously did not share the same thoughts and feelings as to what their 'relationship' was or is or could possibly become. Fine, so the once annoying bushy haired know it all of Gryffindor had driven completely wild and probably insane but even given the changes that had occurred in him since their tryst began he was unwilling to end things. Or so he thought.

Since you went away

Made me find

I have nothing to say

Hermione showed up at his door on a Friday evening at 7:00 as usual but unlike any other time Severus did not appear to be there. So she sat on the cold dungeon floor and leaned her back against the door and prepared herself to wait for him. He always waited for her so she could wait for him in return. Severus Snape was worth waiting for. She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that something was wrong, Severus knew that she would be there.

Minutes ticked by slowly turning into hours and the sinking feeling that had plagued Hermione had been replaced by dread. the emptiness that she and Severus had worked so hard to quell the last two years returned full force. With tears clinging to her lashes she hoisted her body off the stone floor; turning to face the door she rested her forehead against the wood and place her palms flat against the door. "I love you Severus Snape," she whispered before pressing a kiss to the cool smooth grain. This was it, after two years of sex and laughter and love there was nothing left for her to say. She would not say goodbye to him, she always avoided those particular words, instead she let her fingers slide down the door before turning around and walking away.

Since you went away

Made me find

I have nothing to say

Severus heard the soft knock at 7:00, his girl was always on time. He made no move to open the door, no sound to alert her that he was in the room instead he settled back into his chair and clutched the tumbler of fire whiskey a little tighter. He would not be letting Hermione in tonight and he needed strength to keep himself in the chair. 'Love has indeed made you a coward,' he thought bitterly. He heard the girl slide down the door and shift herself noisily most likely trying to find a comfortable position on the dungeon floor. 'How long will she wait? Why is she waiting?' Severus was certain that she wouldn't wait long but after an hour the witch remained.

He quietly walked over to his chamber door and sat down on the floor to lean his back against the door. It was pathetic to think that he could feel her heat through the thick wood but he was sure that he could. He sat lost in bitter thoughts until he heard the clock strike midnight. He quickly realized that he had been sitting on the floor for four hours which meant that Hermione had been sitting there for five hours. 'Why are you still here?' His thoughts were interrupted by a quiet rustle on the other side of the door letting Severus know that Hermione was standing up. He stood up as well. On some ethereal level he could feel her hands and knew that she was pressed to the door so he pressed his hands against it as well. Her breaths were slow almost as if she was willing tears away, the sound was unnerving and Severus wanted desperately to turn away but something kept him rooted to the floor.

"I love you Severus Snape." A whisper meant for no one to hear flooded his soul.

His heart slammed inside of his chest as his brain worked rather slowly to understand her words. How hard is it to understand the words I love you? Well for someone such as Severus Snape those words were some of the most confusing and unbelievable words to ever grace the same sentence as his very own name.

He could hear the soft click of her heels slowly disappearing, he couldn't let her get away. He wrenched open the door with such force that it slammed against the back wall.

'Cos I can't understand

What you meant to me

Made me wild

Then you tied my hands

'Cos I can't understand

What you meant to me

Made me wild

Then you tied my hands

Hermione turned back around at the sound of the door to see Severus standing in the archway staring at her with frantic searching eyes. "You were there the whole time," she said sadly.

Severus noticed the tell tale signs of tear tracks down her cheeks and could see that the emptiness he had worked so hard to fill was suddenly wrapped around her like a thick interpretable blanket.

"You don't have to say it back but please don't turn me away." He wasn't going to say it back, not that night anyway. There would be plenty of time to reassure her that he too was in love and maybe when he told her he would know what it was that she had meant to him. But until that time he would wrap himself around her and bask in the ties that his clever Gryffindor had twisted around his heart.

You tied my hands

You tied my hands

You tied my hands

You tied my hands

You tied my hands

You tied my hands