A/N: So sorry about the long wait! Life has been a bit crazy! Enjoy... ;)
CHAPTER TEN
The next few months pass quickly, filled with drama and Hermione's growing worry about Harry. Ron reports that he's still having nightmares, and she's almost worried enough to contemplate asking Severus for some help - though once Trelawney is sacked and Firenze comes in as the new divinations professor, amongst all the other excitement, she continues to encourage Harry to practice his occlumency.
The night in early April after Dumbledore himself is sacked, Hermione finds herself curled up in what has become her spot on Severus's couch, cup of tea cradled in her hand as she sips at it occasionally, eyes heavily lidded.
Severus is in his chair, cup of tea untouched and resting against his thigh, long fingers cradling the warmed through porcelain.
Earlier in the day Umbridge had declared herself headmistress, despite the office sealing itself against her, and Severus had been forced to provide her with a vial of veritaserum. He had confided in Hermione when she showed up that it had just been flat gillywater. She hadn't been able to hold in her laughter at his machinations, which made him give her that particular almost smile that she was beginning to look forward to during their time together. It had almost gotten her back to the pleasant mental place she'd been before the Room of Requirement had been invaded.
Finally, later that evening, they are settled in their spots, with a proper tea and biscuits. Her eyes are heavy - sleep had been short lately with everything going on - and after a while, the comfortable silence is too much to resist. Settling the teacup on the floor and shifting further into the couch, she pillows her head on the arm of the couch and drifts off rather quickly, her awareness providing the last bit of scent - the tea, and fire, and the underlying sandalwood scent she always associates as Severus.
.oOo.
Finally pulling his thoughts from the day, Severus turns his head to look over at Hermione, before blinking slowly in surprise at her sleeping figure. She's stretched out along the length of the couch, her dainty, socked feet hanging off of the edge and shoes abandoned on the floor. He tilts his head, turning in his chair slightly to watch her sleep.
A curly chunk of hair still clings, barnacle-like, to the arm where she had rested her head before sliding down onto the flat cushions; one arm tucked under her now, while the other is thrown above her head, wedged into the corner of the couch at an awkward, propped-up angle.
His lips quirk as she huffs, her head turning towards him - she's sleeping, it's just random movement - before she draws in a deep breath and it escapes as a sigh, a little smile curling her lips for just a moment as she sleeps on.
Severus lets out a sigh of his own, much more pensive and full of worries than Hermione's, as he settles back into his chair, dark eyes still on her recumbent form. He will let her sleep under his watchful eye for a little longer; she surely needs it.
.oOo.
The next morning, Hermione hurries down to breakfast, running a bit late. She had woken earlier in the morning, only to be assaulted by the memory of the previous night. She had fallen asleep on his couch, and some time later, he had woken her with a bland expression on his face.
But then she had smiled up at him, still half-asleep, and his face had softened, the lines at his eyes and lips not so deep and harsh. He had then helped her to her feet and escorted her to his door.
Hermione was sure that the redness on her cheeks lasted all the way back to Gryffindor tower previous night, and upon waking and remembering, she was worried the look might become permanent.
Because when he had woken her the night before, her first immediate reaction had been a rather indistinct rush of warmth, a tightening in her chest and between her legs, and a hazy my darling had drifted across the front of her consciousness.
She had smiled at him, not as a friend would another friend, but as a lover to her beloved, and he had reacted, he had softened and for the first time, she felt truly and hopelessly lost in him.
Getting through breakfast while in the same room, even as large as the Great Hall is, as Severus made it exceedingly difficult for Hermione to concentrate. Her eyes would continuously drift in his direction and she had difficulty concentrating on Harry and Ron's conversation, much less anyone else's. Ginny asked Hermione for the currant jam at least three times before getting a response.
Of course, by the end of the lunch period, almost all of the extra thoughts were driven from her head - and surely most of the school's collective heads - by the appearance of the Wildfire Whiz-Bang's throughout the school. The entire day was spent not-so-secretly enjoying the show and applauding the Weasley twins for the endeavours. Quite a good piece of magic, indeed.
Once, during the day, Hermione found herself walking past Severus in the hall just as one of the swear writing sparklers floated past. A trio of second year Ravenclaw students were ahead of her giggling over the swear - no one behind - and she couldn't help the smile that erupted across her face when he met her eyes, the dark tunnels of his eyes lightening and his lips quirking in the briefest of almost smiles, only for her to see.
While they had no time to meet for a few days, Hermione is already looking forward to their tea the day after next. They just had to make it through another occlumency lesson with Harry.
.oOo.
Harry, as usual, manages to ruin it all by sticking his speccy git nose in where it isn't supposed to be.
After he comes rushing back into the common room later that night, pale and twitchy, and far earlier than he should have been back, with mumbled excuses about his occlumency "abilities", Hermione quickly - and far too easily, as he is as eager to escape as she is - convinces Harry to go to bed early before slipping out of the common room with her own mumbled excuses about visiting the library just real quickly, despite the growing proximity to curfew.
As soon as the door shuts behind her and she's clear of any living eyes, she takes off like a shot, the enforced bottoms of her slippers tapping on the stones as she slips through the corridors and halls, winding her way down to the dungeons until she finally stops, breathless and panting, in front of his door.
Hermione stands there for a too long moment, almost daring someone to come across her standing in front of the door to Snape's personal quarters as she tries to catch her breath. Finally, she knocks.
There's no answer, but just as she raises her hand to knock again, the door unlatches and ever so slowly swings open just an inch.
She lets out a shuddering breath as she pushes it open wide enough to slip into the room, before firmly pushing the door closed behind her. Turning slowly, she peers around the dim sitting room. The fire is mostly banked, the room a bit cooler than she is used to, with only a few candles in one candelabra off to the side burning. It takes her only another moment to spot him, his figure sitting back into the shadows of his chair. "Severus?"
There's the softest sigh of cloth rubbing against cloth as he shifts in the chair, his head turning towards her, though he doesn't answer. Hermione frowns, stepping around the couch - her spot - and closer to him. "Please answer me."
There is a heartbeat, and she's afraid he will refuse her - and then where will I be? - but he finally opens his mouth. "Why are you here?" His voice is low, stark and cold, bare of any of the warmth she's become accustomed to in their time together.
"Because Harry came back to the tower looking as though Death had been chasing him the whole way from the dungeons. I put him to bed and came down as quickly as I could."
Severus sneers at her as he settles back into his chair, dark eyes flickering down her form. She has forgotten that, in her haste, she hadn't changed and is wearing her pajamas: flannel pajama pants - in a tasteful red, black and white tartan pattern, thank goodness for small mercies - and a grey sweater wrap over her white vest. Her slippers are a woven cardigan in a darker grey than her sweater, with soft fuzzy insides. While still her in pajamas, she's certainly looked worse.
"You had to put darling Potter to bed; but of course you did. Did you suggest he go snooping, as well? See what tidbits the two of you could learn, maybe see what could be useful to you, hm?"
Hermione's eyes widen as her mouth pops open. "He did what?!"
Dark eyes narrowing, Severus scowls at her fiercely. "Don't pretend; even if the boy was acting on his own, I'm sure he told you everything he saw, so why play otherwise? Go back to your tower, Miss Granger."
"Excuse me?" Hermione huffs as she plants her fists on her hips. "First of all, Severus, it's Hermione in these rooms. We agreed." She ignores his darkening expression as she glares back. "Secondly, Harry bloody Potter didn't tell me a single thing about what happened tonight, other than that you had dismissed him because he had learnt as much as he could, which I knew was bollocks, because Ron told me he is still talking in his sleep, so he's lying about it. But all of that aside, how dare you accuse me of using Harry to learn your secrets!"
She drags in a hard breath, panting almost as hard as when she'd first arrived at his door, after her run through the castle. She steps back, shaking her head as she glares at him, ignoring the tears prickling in the corner of her eyes. "You are a right bastard, Severus Snape. I've tried very hard to push past your outer shell, to get to know you without being completely intrusive and deal with this, this situation… it isn't ideal, we both know that. But to accuse me of using someone else, of using my best friend to learn your secrets? Things you aren't comfortable telling me yet? That's… low. It's low, even for you!"
Severus surges to his feet, fingers tightening into fists as he snarls at her.
"How dare you come into my quarters, acting as though you have some control over me! You, Miss Granger, are not the one in charge here; you do not get to nag and needle at me like you do those other morons. While our circumstances are indeed complicated -" he spits it out, as though disgusted by the mere thought "- it does not change who we are nor how we are perceived."
By the end of his speech, what anger he has managed to summon at her brashness is drained away and he finishes it with a shuddering breath.
Hermione stares at him hard, tea colored eyes searching his sallow face as he stands in front of her, arms hanging limply by his sides, every muscle in his body screaming out in dejection. She moves, then, reaching out and grabbing his hand. He jerks back in an attempt to pull away, but she only tightens her hold and adds her other hand as well for good measure, spreading the skin on skin contact until her fingers have slipped under the cuffs of his coat to lay flat against his wrist. His heartbeat thuds beneath the pads of her fingers and she finds herself breathing in half-time to it.
Her own anger fades away as she looks up at him, and he at her, until she finally speaks, her brows knitting together. "What happened?"
Severus sighs deeply, his eyes drooping then closing as he finally allows her to hold his hand, the warmth from her skin seeping into his and warming him even to the tips of his toes, rather in spite of his brief struggle to pull away from her. He's quiet for a long time, and she's almost afraid he won't reply at all, when finally - "Potter stuck his nose in where it doesn't belong. I had pulled… certain memories and stored them in my pensieve, just to be safe, but was called away unexpectedly. He snooped and discovered them, and watched… I don't know how many, but enough." He sighs again, his free hand raising to his face to pinch his nose as though warding off or attempting to alleviate a headache. "I'm going to guess he didn't see any of those with you, or I don't believe he would have been able to refrain from saying something to at least one of us."
"You put memories of me in your pensieve?" She seals her lips together as soon as the words blurt from her mouth, the blush creeping across her face despite her best efforts.
Severus's eyes crack open as he peers down at her, his soft reply hanging in the air between them. "Yes."
Hermione bites down on her lower lip, her eyes shifting to meet his and, despite the seriousness of the situation, she smiles at the internal surge, a zing that always seems to accompany their staring matches. As she watches, his eyes soften before they become determined.
Her tongue flickers over her dry lips, as he steps closer. His voice is low and his fingers are already tensing under hers again as he speaks. "We should sit and have tea. We should… clear the air."
Nodding in agreement, she edges over to her spot on the couch, though when she refuses to release his hand, he's forced to either break the contact or move and sit alongside her. With unnerving ease, Severus sinks onto the couch beside her and as they settle, he summons the usual tea service.
Finally, Hermione reluctantly releases him to prepare their cups as she's taken to doing during their meetings, though she keeps close, almost leaning against his leg as she kneels at the table to pour, though he never protests the contact.
Severus accepts his cup with his expressionless mask settled firmly into place. Once she's back on the couch beside him, tea in hand, he lets out a long breath and glances over to her from the corner of his eye. "I should tell you about Lily Evans."
A/N: ... DUN DUN DUNNNNNNN