UNTOUCHED
A story by Anette S
Disclaimer: Still Jo's. I play with them. No money here.
Author's note: I HAVE A BETA! It's the wonderful Tzee, she is working on the story from the beginning, and will hopefully catch up soon. I will be replacing chapters as she goes over them.
Thank you for reading! I love your comments, you are the best! I know I skimmed a lot of potential scenes in the first part of this chapter, but I hope you will forgive me. Right now I am trying to set something more solid between our main characters, and do not wish to break the flow of the text with supportive character' scenes too much. As my Beta said, there is much to go over before I get to the 'meat' of my story.
Also, fair reminder that Severus is, in my head, a 38 year old Alan. Yes, I know how he looked like back then. ** evil grin** Snape is 38, non? Thus making my logic perfect.
Love, Anette
Chapter 9
Revelations and Invitations
They act normal as days go by.
Day after day, meal after meal, tea time with family, visits with Minerva.
Weasley comes, and Severus is watching them like a hawk as they talk in the garden, just waiting for a flinch of her brow to give him the excuse to throw the boy out on his merry arse.
The redheaded dunderhead is trying to 'be there for her' and 'show support' but he is terribly off on one important point. Hermione doesn't appreciate being reminded that she was a victim.
Finally, the boy leaves and Severus has to admit, as much as it irritates him, that Ron's visit did her good.
She seems content. She didn't let Ron touch her for long, as if the touch itself was insulting. No hugs, barely a peck on the cheek at hello and goodbye.
He is still trying to understand that part of her healing process. He had noticed before the afternoon with Weasley that her reactions varied greatly depending on who she was with. She would let Minerva touch her hand without flinching now, the incident from the early days of her recovery incomparable to the level of physical trust Hermione displayed towards the older woman.
She stumbled the week before last and hurt her ankle. Remus carried her to her room, and she welcomed his help, not the least worried about the expected physical closeness.
But whenever Dora brushes her hand over Hermione's shoulder, or when Teddy runs by her, she tenses. It is almost imperceptible, but it's there.
He is puzzled. Especially when she climbs into his bed night after night and falls asleep allowing him to stand guard at the gate of her nightmares.
Another day passes, and another.
Harry and Ginny come and it is the first time Hermione gets wrapped up in a conversation about something magical, even if it's a stupid discussion against baby brooms.
Severus is yet again trying to be a passive bystander, but it's harder with Potter being more adult than he himself would imagine the boy capable of. They are actually starting to form a bond, in a weird sense of the word. He sees more and more brains behind his green eyes. Eyes that still remind him of Lily, but the emotion is only a vague remnant of the past force that kept him going during the boy's school years.
Every night is a small step forward for Hermione. A nightmare is shorter than the one from the night before, and where once was a scream now only a whimper escapes.
She still takes one third of the potion, but it's a milestone and she knows it.
One night they try a quarter dose, and it is the night when they both realize that even steady progress can't be pushed.
That night is terrible. Almost unbearable. In a weird twist of fate, the quarter-dose does to her what they feared the half-dose would do. She remains locked in her nightmare, and Severus goes almost mad in his attempts to pull her out of it.
It's the first night he cries openly with her.
It almost kills him, but he would be a hypocrite to compare his suffering to hers.
After that she is even too cautious while taking her third-dose. She patiently waits for the last drop of the potion to fall on her tongue, and checks the vial twice before she lets it rest on the bathroom sink. Severus has a small private bathroom, courtesy of Dora, Remus and an afternoon of creative wand work. Hermione's toothbrush is in there, together with her bathrobe.
No one ever comes into her room other than herself, and any visitors to Severus's private chambers, that being Teddy usually, sometimes Dora, are fast asleep by the time they might encounter anything suspicious, like her walking to his room in her pyjamas.
Their little secret is safe.
Severus brushes his hand almost casually over Hermione's bicep as he moves to stand from the table.
Lunchtime at the Lupins is always a cheerful activity, with Dora and Teddy in constant argument over some or other silly vegetable. The flavour of the day is, or better said, isn't parsley. He can't blame the boy for hiding the offending vegetable in his napkin. He himself could never stand the taste of it.
"Teddy, I saw that!" once again Dora's voice rings over the hubbub and Severus turns slightly back towards the remaining occupants, his eyes catching Remus's resigned smile as he observes his wife and son's obligatory argument.
The moment of pause in his movement is enough for Hermione to lean slightly into him, the top of her back now brushing his hip.
No one notices, but them.
It's like this every day, and he is trying to get accustomed to it. He rarely makes the initial move, only when he notices that she is tense or nervous. It seems that his touch alone is enough to calm her. He doesn't understand why she chose him, but he is too grateful to delve into it further.
They never acknowledge each other openly in front of anyone else, and their touches are as casual as they were before, to the untrained eye.
Remus is bound to notice though, Severus knows that, but the werewolf seems to be unaware as of yet that something has changed. Ever since the first day Hermione came to live with them, Remus could 'smell the fear on her' as he would sometimes say.
Severus wonders if Remus can smell the lack of fear.
He makes the short walk to the pitcher of lemonade left under the cooling charm on the counter and lifts it, as well as the charm, taking it to the table.
"Thank you Severus," Dora says kindly, still distracted by her son's stubborn mind.
There is a knock on the window, and Remus goes to retrieve the letter delivered by a strangely familiar owl.
"Pig?" Hermione whispers, and her eyes show both a tint of reluctance and excitement.
Dora smiles. "No, that's Anselme, Bill and Fleur's owl. Looks a lot like Pig tho'," she says, and Hermione can't help but feel the ease seeping back into her distressed lungs.
She is not ready for another visit with Ron.
"Hm… this could be interesting," Remus comments as he unfolds the parchment. The owl has in the meantime flown to a conveniently set perch above the window. He hoots in approval after ingesting the sliver of meat given to him by Remus.
"Any news?"
"Oh yes. But first things first, who is up for some dessert?"
Severus rolls his eyes at him, but Remus only chuckles and takes a cherry tart out from the pantry a moment later.
"Hermione," Remus starts when they are all settled back into their chairs with a glass of lemonade and a piece of dessert. "Since you are now a part of the family, your input on the matter is also needed."
She gives him a small smile, a warm blush colouring her cheekbones.
"Bill and Fleur have invited us all for a week-long visit. I quote" and here he unrolls the parchment and clears his throat ceremoniously, earning a wink from hiswife.
"…an ungodly time has passed since we saw each other in normal conditions without my mother-in-law fawning over all of us like chickens. Victoire misses her little friend, and, although I am not sure I should mention it, Bill misses Remus, only he is too proud to admit it. There are some things he can talk to him about that I simply do not understand, and I would so love to see you all, Severus and Dora included. Our invitation extends to Hermione, naturally. The weather is so beautiful now, and we can enjoy each other's company without fear of 'unwanted' interruptions, meaning that I have convinced Bill not to say anything to his brothers. You know how overwhelming they can be, as much as I adore them, plus they see you far more often than the three of us. Anselme is instructed to wait, even if you need a few days to agree. I know how your work can be at times. Give him a mouse at dinnertime and some bacon, he is not a demanding owl. I hope you decide to come.
Bisous, Bill, Fleur & Victoire.
p.s. There is a note enclosed for Hermione. Please make sure she gets it. Merci."
Remus finished reading the letter and removed the small seal that kept the smaller envelope attached to the letter. With a reassuring smile he extended his hand across the table and gave Hermione her note.
She noticed her name written in Fleur's elaborate handwriting and, passing her finger shortly over the letters, she tore the seal and read the letter.
It was not so long as the one Remus had just read to them, but it said so much more to her. A few simple sentences, but enough for Hermione to know, to remember, and realize that she could rely on Fleur again as she had once in the past.
"Ma chere, I know… We need to talk, to see each other. Please come. I understand you are different. It doesn't matter. I know more than I should about it. Femme a femme, woman to woman, there is a conversation to be had. But only when you decide. The sea is warm and I will make sure you have your privacy. I'll put the shells we collected that week into your room. I can turn them into portkeys to the caves, which will only activate to your touch. Remember, you will always be safe in my house, ma petite."
They all stifled the need to ask her what was written in her letter. All but Teddy, of course.
"What does it say? Will you read it to us?," he exclaimed, almost disappointed.
She smiled. "She just writes that she would very much like me to come with you," Hermione answered tactfully, avoiding the details.
"You know aunty Fleur?" Teddy asked, curious.
"Yes, I do. She is…" she paused, glancing at the letter again, a moment that didn't go unnoticed by the adults at the table "... a very dear friend."
"So you'll come with us?" Teddy let his excitement show in the pitch of his voice.
"Teddy," Dora interrupted "Your Dad and I need to see if we can get off work first."
"We do have leave time we haven't used," Remus answered in return, earning a smile from her.
"That we do my love," Dora answered softly, the desire to take this vacation evident in her tone.
"How about you Severus? Dora questioned turning to him. "I know you are not a man of crowds, but I hope you can join us. They are really nice people, and I am sure you will have your peace there."
"Mrs. Weasley's promise that there would not be an invasion of other members of her husband's family is tantalizing, I must say," he started, pretending to ponder the thought when in truth he had already decided to accept. "I always wondered how William managed to turn out so differently from the others."
"He is a sensible young man," Remus added, the caring obvious in his voice.
"I always claimed that Bill was your spiritual eldest child," Dora joked, and Remus took her hand over the table in his', caressing it gently.
"More like a little brother in dire need of… let's call it furry advice."
Hermione was puzzled. She knew Bill was hurt by Greyback, but never knew he was transforming every month. The question was evident in her eyes, and Remus noticed.
"On yes, he does, unfortunately," he said, glancing at Teddy, reminding her it was not a topic they should discuss further in the young boy's presence. "Started later on, and the change is not complete, but it does happen."
"We should go see them. Fleur is right, it has been too long… for all of us," she added at the end. "And I would love to spend a week on the beach."
She remembered her last stay there and shuddered. Back then, she thought she'd been through hell. She was crucioed, Dobby was killed. They were barely clinging onto hope in their blind search for the horcruxes. It was such an irony that every time she went to that house, it was following a grave experience, and as a last resort.
She shook the thought off and straightened her back.
"It's time for me to visit that house and not be afraid for my life and the life of my loved ones."
Severus took her hand in his', and this time he couldn't mask their connection. He didn't even try.
Remus only raised an eyebrow, but stayed silent.
In fact, silence enveloped the lot of them, and all that could be heard was the lazy swoosh of the afternoon breeze as it tickled the willows in the neighbour's backyard.
Dora's eyes widened and the hand holding her fork froze comically half-way to her mouth.
Teddy was thankfully busy trying to turn his piece of the tart into a heap of crumbs, then building little people out of it and using cherries for their heads.
Hermione took a moment to notice each individual's reaction, and then she simply closed her eyes and sighed, bringing Severus' hand to her face and enjoying the feel of his knuckles as they brushed over her cheek. She didn't want to move away, didn't feel the slightest inclination to hide.
The silence was deafening, and it seemed to last for hours. Dora was the first one to shake it off.
One lonely fork finally met the plate again, the touch of metal to ceramic producing a nervous clink.
"Teddy love, I just remembered that uncles Fred and George sent you a special gift. It's in your room. Would you like to go play with it?" Dora said, pretending to inspect the army of cherry-headed people on Theodore's plate, but managing to keep part of her attention on Severus and Hermione.
The boy's eyes got huge. "They sent me a gift? They have the coolest toys in the world!" he exclaimed, already shuffling out of his seat. A short 'Thank you Mum' and 'Bye Mum' was heard before he disappeared in a flash up the stairs.
None of the others still hadn't uttered a word.
Sometime during Dora's exchange with her son Severus became aware that the others were looking at them. It didn't matter to him though. Hermione took his hand and pulled it to her. She decided to step over that threshold, and he didn't have any problem with it.
It was becoming rapidly clear to him during the last weeks that she was developing an attachment to him that went beyond the initial boundaries of their relationship.
He was never one to lay too much emphasis on definitions. He'd spent the better part of his life going from one undefined situation into the other, culminating in his years as a double agent. Thus, he was now perfectly content not to question what exactly they were to each other.
Exactness when one was dealing with emotions was highly overrated, and in his opinion, served only to help draw the lines and build walls around them. He wasn't very fond of walls anymore, no matter how protective they seemed.
Hermione realized soon after her initial reaction what she'd done and how it looked like. She also realized how it felt like.
It felt good.
It felt wonderful.
The brush of his hand, so soft and tender on her skin made her tingle slightly, and it was a welcome sensation. But what made her hold his hand as the situation unfolded in front of the surprised spectators was not the touch of his hand, but the look in his eyes.
It was her Severus that was looking at her.
Touching her.
Consoling her.
Giving her strength, like every night.
Her Severus. The man who never asked questions, who knew everything about her dark places, but never made her overly aware of his knowledge. A man who didn't care how broken she was and made her care a little bit less when she was in his arms.
He loved her.
She saw it, as clearly as she could see the wrinkle between his eyebrows and the small crumb on his collar.
She moved her hand gently up and removed the crumb, her eyes lingering a moment on the place that hid his scar before she lifted her eyes back to his'.
He shut his eyes, and let the gesture form a silent affirmation.
He didn't expect it to happen like this. Never in his musings did he ever imagine Hermione realizing he loved her after lunch, sitting at the table with Remus, Dora and Teddy and enjoying a crumbly piece of cherry tart.
He was convinced he would be terrified at that moment she recognized the emotion in his eyes for what it was.
He wasn't.
Perhaps he was too far in it to care. He could not change it. He could not un-love her. Was this surrender? Was this letting go?
Perhaps.
Or perhaps it was because she had realized and still held his hand. In fact, she made a silly gesture to remove a piece of dessert of his high-buttoned shirt.
He should've felt embarrassed by that fact alone, if for nothing else.
He couldn't. He was at peace, and she knew.
She knew, and she acknowledged it.
Her eyes rose back to his', and a very private smile fluttered over her lips.
She couldn't find any words that didn't seem redundant. Didn't feel the need for big phrases. There were no fireworks, no clichéd heartbreaking gestures.
There were no bursts of bubbles either. No great epiphany.
She had known this, of course she had. She was diligently ignoring it, burying it under a carpet, even if the proverbial carpet was at the bottom of his bed in his bedroom.
For Merlin's sake, she shared a bed with him. She was not stupid. Just very stubborn in her attempt to not dwell on the feelings he obviously had for her. Because how could he love her? How could he see something worth loving in her?
But he did. And she was only able to give him a small smile of acceptance in return.
A whisper tore off her lips, completely unplanned. "Thank you," she said, recognizing the words as they were already floating in the air. Her eyes filled with all the 'Thank you's' still locked inside of her.
But he saw. He saw everything.
Remus finally cleared his throat and broke their concentration. Neither had noticed that a few minutes had passed in their silent conversation.
Severus met the eyes of his werewolf friend, finding no reprimand in them. Why he believed there would be, he honestly couldn't say. There never was. Instead, a warmth and relief shone openly, and one could easily recognize it as happiness for his friend.
Dora on the other hand lacked the subtlety her husband possessed. The smile on her face could blind crowds.
"Whoa," she finally said, as all of them found themselves in a slightly uncomfortable moment. These particular 'what now' types of situations were never particularly comfortable or easy, even in the most normal of circumstances.
"So, is it correct to assume that you two will now divulge your secret to us?" Remus asked, his eyebrows rising in amusement.
Hermione looked shocked, and Severus laughed, realizing why Remus never asked about Hermione's sudden calmness during the days. It was because he knew.
But of course he knew.
"Secret? What secret?" Dora could sometimes be so clueless.
Hermione glanced back and forth from Remus to Severus, anger bubbling deep inside of her.
"You told him?" she spat out incredulously.
"No, no my dear, do not get upset" Remus quickly jumped in before the moment escalated. They were all still tiptoeing around Hermione's ever-changing emotions. And it was not like he really knew anything. He was bluffing, to a point.
"Severus hadn't revealed any matter that is private between the two of you. I came to certain conclusions on my own, but I won't sport with your nerves any more. I don't know what you've been up to, but it is obvious that you have been healing more rapidly during the last month, as well as it is obvious that you instantly calm down when you touch him, or he touches you."
The obvious lack of surprise in Severus's eyes amused Remus greatly.
"Yes, that I have noticed. But on the other hand, you are quite transparent my friend, when it comes to her." Remus said, shaking his head slightly and trying to suppress a chuckle.
After all the darkness, all the sleep deprived nights searching for Hermione they were now sharing a perfectly normal lunch on a completely boring afternoon in an equally uneventful part of London, and it was all so common, right up to the awkward talk they were now participating in.
He felt like a father watching his daughter and her boyfriend, the notion itself enough to make him chuckle, but adding to it the fact that Severus was his age, it nearly killed him to stop the bubbling laughter.
It was so normal. He wanted to weep from joy at the normalcy of it.
"I am not obvious in any occasion and you are out of line," Severus slowly squeezed through his teeth, giving every word time to ring out while his own level of tension grew accordingly.
He did not want to discuss their nights over leftovers and lukewarm lemonade. And he intended to stop this conversation, now, only Hermione managed to beat him to it.
"Remus, Dora, with all due respect, and be sure that it is great, I do not wish to talk about this right now. Suffice to say, yes, Severus has been helping me heal," here she paused and stood up, taking his hand firmly in hers', making him stand up as well. "…and you will find out the rest soon enough. Now, excuse us, but I think there is a more important conversation to be had." again she paused, and locked her eyes with his'. "Alone."
Remus, his face a combination of wonderment and fatherly pride, nodded a silent approval at her words.
Dora was too stunned to comment further, and she just watched in amazement as the girl who tittered on the ledge of apathy for weeks, struggling to regain a semblance of normalcy before her eyes for the last two months suddenly took a firm stand and defended her own. Not unlike the old Hermione.
As they were left alone, Dora shared a knowing look with her husband. "I guess the cub is waking up at last," she whispered, and there were tears in her eyes.
He stood up, took her hand and pulled her into his embrace, exhaling softly and immersing himself into the welcoming warmth of her arms. "It seems so my love… it seems so."