10. Secrecy
S.
"What do you want?"
"You", she said.
It was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.
So why did he feel as though he might vomit? All of his blood pumped into his head, and it shrieked as though it might split open. The world became nothing but background noise. This word, this one syllable, was what he had wanted to hear, all these years and yet now that he heard it, all he could think was Lily!
Lily! I loved her and she's dead.
Lily, I'm so sorry.
Lily is dead. She's dead!
He started to shake his head as though the motion could clear the thoughts, but they dug their claws into his brain, into his heart, and all he could say was,
"No. I'm sorry."
He couldn't look at her, but he could hear her humiliation, her rejection in her voice.
"Severus?"
He clasped his hand to his face.
"I can't do this right now."
"Severus?" she said again; her voice broken and trembling. "Please?"
All she wanted was an explanation and he couldn't give her one. It was his secret. He couldn't say it; had never said it to anyone. Only Narcissa knew, only she understood.
"Don't tell me I'm alone in my feelings", she said; the words coming through stronger than before.
And the sound only served to weaken him.
"I should go", he said, fumbling in his pocket for his wand, his heart racing.
"You can talk to me", she said, wrapping her fingers into his cloak. "Whatever it is, we can-"
Lily. Lily. Lily!
"I'm sorry. I can't do this right now", he repeated. "Can we finish this some other time?"
She dropped her hands, and without waiting for her reply, he swiped his wand and disappeared into the comfort of the darkness that pulled him apart; he landed on the Malfoy's Persian rug and screaming, he fell into Narcissa's open arms.
:
H.
Hermione returned home that evening knowing that there would be nobody there to greet her. For the last week, Ron had slept on the sofa, or at Grimmauld Place. Most days he'd head back to The Burrow and Molly would mother him. Hermione was not welcome. She had known that Molly would struggle to be impartial when it came to low points in her relationship with Ron. After all, back in Hermione's fourth year, Molly had snubbed her at Easter when she thought she was playing with Harry's heart. And so, Hermione had anticipated that she would be icy-cold for hurting her precious boy.
But what surprised her, was that it wasn't just Molly. Ron's anger had spread like a plague until it appeared that everyone she knew had painted a cross on her door. She hardly saw him, and when she did, he did not acknowledge her presence. From the limited conversation they'd had in their five days of otherwise painful silence, she gathered that he was not yet willing to give up on the relationship, even though they both knew that it was long-dead, and there was no reviving it. For Hermione accepting that it was over, was the nail in the coffin of a life she was not yet ready to bury. And yet, she was dressed for a funeral and a ghost in her own home.
There was nothing left to save. Her fears had come true – she was, for the most part, completely isolated - and yet, she was still alive, wasn't she? The world had not ended.
As she lay awake into the small hours, something that Severus had said rattled around in her head, so loudly that she couldn't sleep.
Not just, 'no, I'm sorry, I can't do this right now', which was admittedly something that she had thought about so often that it was burnt into her memory. But it was something else he had said that bothered her now.
'You're not willing to let that go in search of something for yourself? Something to call your own.'
Something for my own. Something that is mine.
What do I want?
Severus.
Other than Severus! What do I want?
I want out. Harry and Ginny and Weasleys be damned. If they care about me at all, they will want me to be happy. They will come around. I deserve to be happy. With or without Severus.
After all, replacing one love with another - a sun, for a brighter burning star - still meant that Hermione orbited someone else. Even if Severus hung the moon, it was time, she decided, to take a chance on being the centre of her own universe for a while.
It's done. I can't take another minute of this madness. I can't even explain why I've put up with it for so long? It is time to remove myself from the tangled knot of my relationship. The next time I see Ron, I will tell him. It needs to be done right. Face to face. I want out.
But Ron did not return.
:
S.
"Okay, love. Nice and easy", Narcissa said, stroking his back with her delicate fingers; he always found comfort in these arms. "Come on. Let's go have some tea."
She urged him into the dining room - the family dining room, not the formal dining room - and sat him on a chair. As he stared at details of the dark wood panelling that lined the walls, slumped onto his seat, he listened to Narcissa who chattered pleasantly to him, in soothing tones.
"It's going to be okay", she said. "Whatever it is, we will sort it. Okay, Severus? And if it's not something we can sort, then we will just sit here and get through it together."
"Lucius?", he said.
It was all he could manage, unable to bring himself to ask what he needed, but she understood him well enough. She always did.
"He won't be home for a couple of hours, love. Nor will Draco. We have time."
He nodded and leant forward, placing his elbows on the table and dropping his head into his hands.
"I've been so foolish."
"Impossible", she said, as she stepped towards him levitating a silver tray beside her. "Of all the men I have known, you are the farthest from a fool."
She handed him a china cup, that tinkered on its saucer, as he took it in his shaking hands.
"Have a couple of biscuits". she said. "They're good."
He took them from her, not wanting to disappoint, but he placed them on his saucer and dropped his gaze to the floor.
"Have you ever felt like you're doomed to make a mistake?" he asked.
She blew gently on her tea, holding the cup to her lips.
"Do you mean, that you know something will be a mistake, but you are resolved to make it anyway?"
He shrugged with one shoulder.
"Or are we about to enter into a philosophical debate regarding free will and determinism?" she asked. "Because in that case, I think I will take wine, instead of tea."
He smiled at her. Yes, their early years together had been a haze of smoke, red wine, a lot of pretentious conversation and even more posturing.
"I just feel as though I'm losing control", he said. "I know what I want, but I also know that to want it, is... madness. Have you ever felt that way?"
"A woman?" she asked, with a soft smile in her eyes. "… Hermione?"
He narrowed his eyes.
"Perhaps."
"Control is an illusion", she said, "and love is madness, Severus. Do you not remember? Has it been so long?"
He watched the steam rise from his cup, coiling like a snake and he sighed.
"I don't recall saying anything about 'love'."
"Fine. Then, tell me, what is the problem? What is the cause of your madness, Severus? What is it that you're afraid of?"
There was nobody else in the world that he would allow to ask him this last question, and she was the only one with whom he would share an honest answer. To delay his response, he took a gulp of tea that burned his tongue. He did not flinch. He had been quite pathetic enough for one day, and he was potentially about to become even more so.
"I presume that you remember Lily?" he asked. "You remember what happened to her?"
She gave him a rueful smile as she popped her cup back in its saucer.
"How could I forget, love?"
"I cannot", he said, emphasising the severity of his words, "live through that again."
"Severus. She is not Lily."
Severus ran his hand across the emerald velvet of the Malfoy's armchair and sipped at the brandy glass in his other hand. He was hardly paying attention to Lucius. He had arrived at the Malfoys hoping for some advice. He'd wanted to speak with Narcissa, really, but she was in the city with Draco. She was due to return at four thirty, and he found himself watching the clock, counting down the minutes. Lucius was a wonderful friend, but he was not the most sensitive, nor did he really understand the workings of Snape's mind. Not like Narcissa did anyway.
"So, you had a small meltdown?" Lucius said. "You can come back from this."
"And if I don't want to?" Severus asked.
"Well, that's irrelevant because you do want to. You're besotted. The boy is just a complication. I could always get him out of the way, it's been such a long time since I cursed someone."
Severus knocked back his brandy.
I'm going to need many, many more of these.
"It's not about Weasley anymore, Luce. I think she'll end it. It's me. I can't..."
"Get it up?" Lucius drawled, and Severus rolled his eyes. "I know you're not as young as you used to be, but there are potions if you need a helping hand..."
"Piss off, Lucius."
Lucius puffed himself up on the armchair and crossed his legs, one over the other.
"Fine. If you won't give her what she wants, I will."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Snape asked, rapping his fingers across his empty glass.
"Well, you have been with my wife... I think it only fair that I repay the favour."
Severus rolled his eyes as he poured himself another measure of brandy.
"I was with your wife long before you even knew her. Since I met Hermione first, it's hardly an even trade."
"Ah. Perhaps you are right. If only I had met her first", Lucius said with a grin. "On an entirely unrelated note, do you happen to know where I might find a time-turner?"
Don't even joke about it.
Lucius' eyes flickered across Severus' face and took in its severity. He smiled a true smile; not his typical impish grin.
"Oh, of course", Lucius said, and he moved forward in his chair. "This one is different. I know that. She's not a plaything. Your little Muggle-born is off limits."
Snape scoffed as Lucius grinned and lay back in his chair.
"You're married, Lucius."
"Narcissa allows me a few transgressions", he said smugly.
"If she allows you your transgressions, it is only because she is having transgressions of her own."
Lucius propped his feet up on a stool and folded his hands behind his head.
"Naturally."
:
H.
Hermione tucked her wand into her back pocket and stepped out onto Diagon Alley. She wandered around the shops, knowing that there was nothing she needed, but hoping that she might find something she wanted.
Something for my own. Maybe a new book. Start small. Build up your courage.
She felt her heart leap into her throat as she stood outside Flourish and Blotts and stared through the window at the cardboard cutout that stood beside a pile of books on display.
'From Rags to Pitches: Becoming the World's Greatest Seeker' by Viktor Krum.
Hermione groaned.
Good god.
She considered buying a copy for Ron as a parting gift. If he could be passive-aggressive, so could she.
No, she thought. If you want to stand even a chance at salvaging your friendships, you must handle this correctly. When Ronald comes home, and he will have to eventually, I will sit him down and appeal to his better nature. He did have one once. No passive-aggressive gift-giving. No owls. No letters. No patronuses. God it's so tempting to end it by email. If only he knew what an email was. No. I have to do this right. Face to face. We will talk. It will end. And I will make my peace with whatever comes after.
As she stepped out of Diagon Alley, and down into Whimsic Alley, Hermione felt herself swept up in the excitement of a small crowd of people. She didn't know what was being celebrated, but a few wizarding families seemed to have congregated here for some kind of event. Bunting hung above her, from building to building, entwined with string lights. She'd never really explored Wizarding London, and now seemed as good a time as any to start.
She passed through Memori Alley, in which there were plaques and statues dedicated to past witches and wizards of note. Next was Origin Alley; that was all archaic buildings, surrounded by walls that could have been around since Roman times. Hermione's architecture knowledge was admittedly limited.
Severus would know.
As she stepped into Minim Alley, which was all but deserted, Hermione got the feeling that someone was watching her. By the time she had reached Frantic Alley, she knew for sure that she was being followed. She didn't dare turn to face the stranger, knowing that if she did, it would become real. Right now, she was simply in potential danger, but if she turned to see her fears realised, it would become a legitimate threat.
She knew that she could disapparate, but as she recalled Yaxley clinging to her leg as she tried to apparate to Grimmauld Place, the fear crept into her bones until it was the only thing that propped her. She ducked into the doorway of a building that was closed and pulled her wand out of her pocket. All logic and rationality deserted her until she was left to respond with her instincts. She sought safety. She sought comfort. She sought Severus. Her hands trembled as she gripped her wand and shot out a Patronus, praying to the Gods that he answered.
:
S.
Severus spat the brandy from his mouth with a burst of laughter.
"Jesus wept, Lucius! Do you have to be so brash?!"
"Honestly, Darling", Narcissa said, shaking her head.
Lucius placed his hand on his wife's thigh and pulled her onto his lap.
"I'm sorry, my sweet. I forgot that you're so sensitive."
She threw her head back softly and laughed her pretty song; her long, silver hair whipped onto the chair and fell in dainty ringlets. Everything she did was delicate and elegant. She was almost ethereal.
"Come on, Severus. Tell us", she said. "He'll behave, won't you, Lucius?"
Lucius' still held the trace of his laughter on his lips, but he nodded.
"I'll be serious. I swear it."
Severus swilled the glass of brandy and took a drag of his cigarette.
"I don't even know where I would begin", he said, confused by his inability to wrap his head or his words around how he felt.
"You have feelings for her", Lucius said with a pressed-lip smile. "You've had feelings for her for years. Do you love her?"
Snape shook his head.
"No. I do not."
Narcissa pursed her lips and with a flicker of her eyebrows, she told him, without a word, that she did not believe him.
"If I walk away now, I think I could do so relatively intact", he said. "So, I should nip it in the bud, don't you think?"
God, I'm going to have to quit my job.
Lucius grinned.
"Sure", he said. "You try that; see how well it goes."
He shared a knowing look with Narcissa.
"What?" Severus asked, impatiently. "What was that look?"
Narcissa lifted her wine glass to her lips and didn't say anything as Lucius puffed on his cigar and stifled a smile.
"Oh my God, will you just tell me?"
"It's nothing", Narcissa said. "We talk about you sometimes. Allow us our secrets."
Snape sat upright in his chair.
"Absolutely not. Tell me what you've been saying about me?"
"Oh, it's nothing untoward, Severus; you can wipe that hurt bunny look off your face. We just think that if you were going to walk away from her, you would have done so already. You've said it yourself. You're connected. You will always return to her."
"When did I say that?"
I remember thinking it. I don't recall saying it aloud.
Narcissa giggled behind her hands.
"Well... You'd had a fair bit to drink".
"Right", he said, dropping his glass onto the table beside him. "I won't be making that mistake again anytime soon. Who needs enemies, huh?"
"Oh, come off it, Severus!" Lucius said, taking the bottle from the bar cart and throwing it at him.
He caught it by instinct and rolled his eyes.
"Listen to me", Narcissa said, moving from her husband towards Snape. "You can walk away. That's your choice. Perhaps it is the right choice, I do not know. But we both know that she is the first woman you've had feelings for in a long time. In fact, you went twenty years without ever loving someone."
"So...?" he said, stubbing out his cigarette and crossing his arms.
"So... you date women who you know you will never fall in love with", Narcissa said. "And whenever you do have feelings for someone, you close yourself off. You saw her with the boy and didn't speak to her for seven years. It doesn't make sense. It's as though you don't want to be loved."
She sat beside him on the arm of his chair and rested her hand on his shoulder.
"It's like you're... is it because we..." - she trailed off.
She thought over her own words and her mouth fell lightly open as though with understanding. As Snape opened his own mouth to speak, he reconsidered and snapped it shut. He looked across at Lucius and Narcissa's gaze followed.
"Don't beat around the bush for my benefit", Lucius said with a shrug. "My wife broke your heart. And you're what? Frightened it will happen again? Are you still cut up about how your relationship ended? You're still hurt by our betrayal?"
This wasn't their typical play. Lucius was dead serious, and it alarmed him.
"Luce, come now", Severus said. "I am more than happy for you both, as you well know. I just-"
"Then why, Severus?" Lucius asked. "Why do you pull away from those who care for you?"
Snape curled his hands into gentle fists. He was irritated, but not angry.
"I don't know!"
"Well I do, Severus", Narcissa said, prodding his shoulder. "It's to protect yourself."
"Right", he said, raising an eyebrow of doubt.
"You don't believe her?" Lucius asked. "You're transparent. You believe love to be a weakness. I don't know why, but you do."
Lily.
Lily! Lily! Lily!
"Perhaps it was the mudb-"
Lucius stopped himself, gave an apologetic wince and then the twitch of a coy smile.
"The muggle-born", he corrected. "What was her name?"
"Lily", Narcissa said, and she looked at her husband with trepidation; Severus followed suit.
Where are you going with this? What do you know?
"Yes, Lily. She died, didn't she?" Lucius said. "I believe you were fond of her."
Severus and Narcissa shared a momentary glance, before Narcissa dropped her gaze to her husband.
She never told him. All these years and she has not spilled my secret.
"Is that the reason?" he asked. "Because she died?"
Severus and Narcissa looked at each other again.
"Yes", Severus said, and Narcissa nodded.
But she knew as well as he did that this wasn't quite the truth. He thought that being in love was a weakness, no doubt. Now it had been pointed out to him, there was no denying it. But it wasn't just because Lily had died. It was, in part, because of what happened while she was still very much alive.
"I never did understand why The Dark Lord murdered her", Lucius said. "He wanted to recruit her, after all. It made little sense at the time. Less still, now."
Narcissa moved as though to speak, but Severus shot daggers at her as though he could scream, without opening his mouth.
Don't you dare tell him!
Just as Lucius settled back into his chair to ruminate, a silver burst of light from the courtyard caught Severus' attention. He pulled himself from his chair and rushed towards it as the otter charged through the grounds.
"Duty calls, Severus?" Lucius asked, as he returned.
He pulled his cloak from the back of the chair.
"It's Hermione", he said, and even he heard the strain in his voice. "I have to go."
"As I said", Lucius drawled. "You will always return to her."
:
H.
She took his hand, her fingers between his, as he walked her into his home. She followed him through the airy hallway to the lounge that was moody in stark contrast. The walls were almost black, but the trim, the doors, and the ceiling were brilliant white. The floors were hardwood, dark walnut, covered with a black and white cowhide. The focal point of the room was the fireplace, which sat opposite an olive, leather Chesterfield sofa. One wall was book shelving, top to bottom, like in Spinner's End, only instead of the haphazard arrangement from before, the books were neatly categorised by colour. On the wall opposite, were black and white frames, neatly lined from the ceiling to the chair rail; all beautiful landscapes, no people. He led her to the sofa and suggested she sit and she did so without thinking. He handed her a blanket and a cushion from the velvet armchair and nodded.
"Tea or coffee?" he asked.
He smelled of cigarette smoke and his breath was sweet with brandy.
He's been with Lucius.
"Tea, please".
Hermione caught the cup of tea that moved into the room before he did. He followed shortly thereafter with a plate in one hand and a mug in the other. He placed the plate on the table - cheese, grapes and crackers.
With a gentle laugh, he said, "I'll cook for you, one day, I promise".
Hermione smiled and cupped the tea with both hands.
"Would you like to talk?" he said, and he sat beside her on the sofa.
He sat with a comfortable amount of distance between them, but he stretched his arm out on the back of the sofa and she was aware of his hand behind her head. When she didn't answer, he placed his hand gently on her shoulder. It came as a shock; warm and comforting.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded.
"Yes, sorry."
I shouldn't be here.
"Why didn't you want to go home?"
Hermione considered hiding the truth, but she couldn't create an excuse quick enough. The longer she spent crafting the story in her head, the more obvious it would be that it wasn't true.
"I didn't want to be alone."
There. The truth. Sort of. I didn't want to be alone, I wanted to be with you.
"When was the last time you had a good night's sleep?" he asked.
"Not for a while."
Severus nodded.
"Okay well, you should get some rest", he said. "You can take one of the beds, or you can stay down here on the sofa."
"I'm not all that tired".
Not entirely true. Not entirely a lie.
"Okay, then we'll watch something. I'll find something so boring that you're out like a light in no time. Shouldn't be hard. I've yet to find anything worth watching."
Why have a television at all, then? You're all talk, Severus.
:
S.
Severus sat back on the sofa and settled on some documentary or other that was so incredibly boring, even he, who could find something of interest in even the dullest subjects, was bored stiff. He lay his head on the back of the sofa and felt, rather than saw, Hermione do the same, as her hair grazed his hand. He opened his hand and closed it, opened and closed, opened and closed, brushing his fingers across the side of her head. She didn't acknowledge it, but neither did she move away. She allowed him this small gift - both pretending that it meant less than it did. He felt her head grow heavy, and as her eyes closed, the opening and closing of his hand became gentle circles, until she was asleep.
Why did you come here? he thought, as though she might awaken and answer. Her body stirred, and he thought for a moment that she would, but instead, she rearranged herself in her sleep and began to sink in towards him.
Oh God. Don't. I can't take it.
:
H.
Hermione awoke to the familiar smell of cigarettes and brandy, and she knew before she even opened her eyes that the mass on which she rested her head was not her bed. Neither was it his sofa; it was Severus. His chest, to be precise. As her eyes fluttered open, she saw the buttons of his shirt; the way he sat wrinkled the fabric so that she could see his skin through the gaps between buttons. Her fingers twitched as she imagined what it would be like to feel his skin beneath her hands. She needed to know, she needed to feel something, just for a moment. It didn't have to mean anything. Call it curiosity. She just wanted to know what he felt like.
Before she had even a conscious thought, her hand was at his chest. His sigh underneath her, told her that he was awake. She slipped a nail under a button and popped it open and slid her hand between the fabric. She felt the beating of his heart increase and her own responded.
Stop, Hermione.
The next thing she felt was his hand at the small of her back. It was fixed to the spot as though he didn't dare to move it. Neither did she dare to make any sudden movements for fear that their embrace, innocent as it was, would become something more.
It's not so innocent, she thought. You shouldn't be here.
As they sat in their silence, she became aware of her body and its response, its ache from its centre; her chest, her stomach, her core. And as though her irrational fingers moved independently, they began to stroke his chest. Just tentatively at first, but when she felt his hand respond in kind on her back, she allowed the fingers to remove themselves entirely from her sanity and unfasten a second button.
AN: Does anyone else have that taste in their mouths? It's kind of tart... like, erm... lemons.
But you know, I've always found lemons to be both sharp and pleasant. You might say... bittersweet.
[Looks into the camera like I'm on The Office]