DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author Note: Many thanks to the wonderful, Niamh for betaing this so quickly for me. Thanks also to Shiv5468 for answering my Britpicking questions so patiently.
Additional Note: I owe a great debt of gratitude to the wonderful pair of, Ann-MCN and Bambu for their suggestions and help with regards to this chapter. These lovely ladies helped me find 2000 extra words - all of them good. :)
It's Elemental
It is as though in that one moment of innocent connection, she has woven her soul with mine and I don't know how she did it...
Tuesday the 5th of September 1999...
Severus tried very hard not to think too much about the impossible 'project' in the intervening few days since their first anxiety ridden meeting at the university café. Hermione had flashed him a questionable look when he'd gone to the pub for dinner on the Friday evening. She hadn't said anything, but then her facial expression; a mixture of anxiety and annoyance, needed little translation for Severus to understand that she'd expected him to avoid her so soon after their first lecture earlier that day. He'd even forestalled her attempt to talk to him by raising his hand and looking pointedly at her. Not even the thought of pudding would have kept him in that dining room for any longer, and so he'd paid for his meal and left without a backward glance. Severus knew that the longer he avoided his study partner, the more irritated and unhelpful she would become, and that thought alone was enough to irritate him even more. Having observed and hoped that there might be a mass student mutiny against the idea of the assignment, Severus had to resign himself to the fact that that outcome was highly unlikely, more was the pity.
Severus had returned to the university late on the Friday afternoon, ostensibly to gather information on a course commencing just after Christmas, but if he was honest with himself, he also hoped to find some loophole in the university bylaws that would allow him to dispense with Paul Drury's inane course, without losing his thousand pounds in the process. He'd found no satisfactory avenues whatsoever, a situation he found even more irritating. Severus was used to giving directions to his students, not taking them from someone he didn't even know. He wondered just why he'd even decided to do a course with the express thought that it might help him in his teaching, when he hoped that that past was well behind him. The turmoil was so encompassing that he found himself unable to concentrate on very much of anything, which in turn perpetuated the vicious circle he felt himself embroiled in...with no logical escape.
He'd tried to write in his journal several times since he'd happened upon Hermione Granger in 'his' pub in mid-August, but Severus soon resorted to either repeating himself continuously, or becoming so angry at the whole notion of having his perfectly peaceful existence upset, that there were more scratched out lines than actual text. The impetus to throw the journal against the nearest wall had abated as he now recognised that he wasn't just penning his thoughts into an irrelevant object. He had no doubt that Arcanus had in some way engineered the whole thing, but try as he might, Severus simply couldn't order his thoughts sufficiently in order to trick the journal into revealing exactly what part it had to play in the whole sorry mess. Had he been thinking logically rather than emotionally, he might just have recognised that all of those still living that had been gifted with the journals, all shared at least one common link.
He knew he couldn't go on avoiding Hermione; she'd eventually catch him, and it would be all the more pointed and ugly if he resorted to his old tricks to distance himself from her curiosity. All in all, Severus decided that there were probably worse projects that both of them could have been coerced into exploring together. He just couldn't think what they could possibly be when stacked up against the horror that he might have to open himself up and reveal parts of himself he preferred to keep hidden. The whole thought of sharing left him with a sudden shiver at just what sorts of 'specific examples' he'd be forced to endure because of a picky little witch who had never heard of half measures. He also wondered idly whether or not it was his choice of study partner that was causing his unease, rather than the subject matter itself, but every time his mind wandered across some of the possibilities he might have to explore, his anger and frustration at his lack of any previous personal knowledge, just added to his growing sense of unease.
Hermione had spent a considerable amount of time in the university undergraduate library since the previous Friday afternoon trying to find relevant references that could be used instead of some of the ones that her mind rebelliously kept thinking of as interesting examples. Some of her thoughts were extremely unsettling, but try as she might, her mind refused to co-operate and she was left with a distinctly uncomfortable feeling that she was being deliberately drawn back to them for some reason or other that she couldn't quite grasp. Snape had been avoiding her, but in all honesty, Hermione was actually quite grateful for their mutual avoidance tactics. She'd tried talking to him at the pub on the previous Friday night, but he'd thrown down his napkin with a frustrated huff, raised his hand to silence her and abruptly stood and exited the restaurant. That irked her more than anything, because though she was thinking of asking him if he'd thought about the project at all, Hermione had just wanted to say hello to him and let him know that she was just as uncomfortable about the whole thing as he obviously was.
The bastard hadn't given her a chance though, and so Hermione made the decision that should he continue to ignore her as an irritation, she would in turn make him suffer for his curt dismissals. She just had no clue how such a thing could be accomplished.
Hermione had Owled Minerva late on Friday night, knowing full well that even though Minerva might not have some of the answers to her questions, she would be exceedingly grateful to know that Severus had not simply dropped off the face of the earth. That, and Hermione's unlikely discovery of some of his more eclectic choices since he'd left Hogwarts would no doubt interest the older witch. Minerva replied the next day, early in the afternoon. She'd used her Transfiguration skills to send a 'Vowl', a voice activated owl message that was filled with a substantial amount of laughter for some considerable time, before Minerva had managed to sober and leave a short message asking Hermione to meet her for dinner in Diagon Alley that evening.
Hermione was grateful that she hadn't needed to work on the Saturday evening, because she had looked forward to seeing Minerva, whom she thought might just have had some ideas of how Hermione could meet the requirements of the project without resorting to some of her more lurid ideas. She also hoped that Minerva might be able to shed some light on Snape's reluctance to talk to her since the announcement of the assignment partners had been made.
Hermione had become more nervous in the hours before she was due to meet Minerva in the Leaky Cauldron, but she had found herself staring expectantly every time the flames sparked in case Minerva had chosen to turn up earlier than their agreed six o'clock meeting time. Hermione need not have worried. Minerva had been her usual punctual self. She arrived and dusted herself off at the precise time she'd said she'd arrive. It had been the very large grin gracing her face that surprised Hermione most of all, and the idea of disclosing the assignment topic seemed to magically fade from her thoughts almost immediately. It was an infectious sort of smile and Hermione had found herself grinning back at her friend and former Professor.
Minerva nodded sagely towards Hermione, and stopped briefly as if considering her options, before she'd detoured to the bar, where she'd ordered a Pims and lemonade. Once the necessities had been taken care of, Minerva then walked swiftly to the table where Hermione was ensconced, nursing a tired glass of wine and an odd look that seemed to be a combination of worry and fatigue.
Their conversation ranged over a broad array of topics. Everything had been discussed, from Minerva's improving relationship with Albus, to her queries about how Hermione was managing rambling about in the house all alone. They'd had a lovely dinner, with a large liquid component. Hermione, when she thought back on that evening, knew that Minerva was basically grilling her for information. She'd been happy to oblige the older witch with some of Snape's more impassioned pleas about the course they were both unwittingly enrolled in together. Somewhere between Minerva's renewed laughter at Severus' lack of manners in full flight and Hermione's own unease at the whole thing, their conversation had changed direction, though Hermione didn't recognise how it had happened at the time.
It had been at that point that Minerva had changed tack and probed Hermione gently until she blurted out the whole sorry problem regarding the assignment that both of them; she and Severus, had to complete. She really hadn't meant to do be quite so revealing, but somewhere between dessert and the cheese platter, it had all unravelled. When she thought about it later, Hermione was under no illusions that Minerva had rather deftly steered their conversation to the point of finding out just why Hermione kept skirting around her project topic. Hermione, in turn, silently berated herself for not being more circumspect about the whole thing and she could only blame herself for stammering it out in one long rapidly voiced sentence.
Looking back on that evening, Hermione was in no doubt that several glasses of Merlot and a very nice tawny port shared equal responsibility with Minerva for her lapse in concentration. Minerva had laughed again then, sobered; to a point, and then given Hermione an in depth synopsis of Severus Snape in particular, and men in general. The only thing she could clearly remember was the odd wistful look in Minerva's eye when there'd been a lull in the conversation, and it bothered Hermione more that Minerva seemed to think it all a grand game just waiting for the opening gambit to be played. She'd have to remember to ask her at some point during their next outing exactly what that look had been all about, but as it was, Hermione had wasted enough time looking back, particularly as the text in front of her was yielding some very interesting ideas she wanted to explore further.
Though Severus had made a grand show of exiting the pub hastily the previous Friday evening, he still made an attempt to look pointedly at Hermione when they met up on Tuesday morning for their next shared lecture. Neither said very much to each other when they met at the door, other than a perfunctory nod in each other's direction. They didn't sit together, but as the class was finishing, Hermione had made a point of seeking out Severus and asking him if he felt like a coffee to make up for their disastrous start on that ominous first Wednesday. He'd nodded and without saying anything, both of them had made their way through the crowds to the café Hermione had led him to before. Once they'd settled themselves outside with their coffee, and asked the usual perfunctory questions about the weather, weekend and other courses, both of them knew that the next subject to be broached would be even more uncomfortable.
Hermione decided to wade right into the fray, having never learnt that subtlety was a useful skill she should perhaps learn.
"Severus, give me your hand."
"Why?"
"Because I want to show you something."
"What?"
"Something to help us in the project."
"No," he replied curtly. "Why should I?"
"Because...oh, you are infuriating! I want to show you something. Now, give me your hand and stop asking bloody stupid questions."
Hermione reached across the small space of the table suddenly and made to grab Severus' left hand. She connected briefly, but he quickly whipped his hand away, all the while giving her a particularly filthy look, full of malice.
"Don't touch me...ever...again."
"What on earth are you going on about, Severus? We are, after all doing a topic on touch and we have to give 'specific examples' of the different types of touch."
"I don't like to be touched. I never have," Severus said acidly, drawing away deliberately and sitting back in his chair with his arms folded.
"Why not? You touch people every day, even if you're not actually aware of it. In fact, I saw you touch the cashier's hand in the café just now and it didn't seem to bother you then, so why now?"
"That was accidental – this isn't. Just leave off, Hermione. I said I'd do this stupid project, but I don't intend to experiment with you."
"No, I'm not going to 'leave off' as you put it until you tell me why I seem to make you cringe. Is it those nasty Mudblood genes of mine?" Hermione asked shortly.
"No, it is not! I just don't like to be touched by anyone – and I abhor that word too."
"Which one, Severus? Touch or Mudblood?"
"The latter, but the first is a close second."
"You do realise I'll keep pestering you until you tell me why, don't you, Severus?"
"Yes, but only because I know you're awfully good at pestering those around you. I watched you do it for seven years after all."
"And I watched you belittle everyone who you thought wasn't up to your impossible levels of perfection, so I hardly think you have the right to lecture me on my behaviour."
"You wouldn't understand, Hermione."
"Try me."
"Why should I, Hermione? It's none of your business, but you just keep pushing. Can't you simply take no for an answer?"
"No, I can't, Snape. I like to know why someone seems intent on pushing me away. I don't like it and I don't think I should have to put up with this sort of nonsense every time we try and talk."
"Well, that's just bloody grand, isn't it? You need to know and so I'm just expected to tell you every sordid little detail. Well, Miss Bossy-Boots, life doesn't always work like that. Life is not the neat little parcel you think it is. It's messy and cumbersome and uncomfortable...and I refuse to be treated like some unfortunate laboratory experiment just because you want things your way all the time."
"That's not fair, Snape!"
"Why not? It seems remarkably accurate from where I'm sitting. We have to do this because you want to do it. Mi...Hermione. I've already told you I'm not comfortable with it, but you just keep pushing."
"And I'll keep pushing until you realise that we'll keep having this same tired argument until you do tell me. It's me, isn't it, Severus? You really can't stand the idea of us as peers. We have to do this assignment, though I've no doubt you've tried to get out of it one way or another. Well, it obviously didn't work, so you're stuck with me for the duration."
"You're right of course. You always are, but have you ever stopped to think that I have some very distinct reasons why I don't want to do this project with you, Hermione?"
"Nothing more than I was your student...that is the reason, isn't it?"
"Yes and no, Hermione, yes and no," Severus said in a resigned tone as he cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"It's not pleasant, Hermione. The truth never is. Are you sure you want your precious little bubble burst? I doubt that you'll want to know me after I tell you that the world is not the perfect little place you expect it to be."
"Yes, Severus, I want you to tell me," Hermione said in an exasperated voice.
"I think after everything I've been through over the last couple of years, you aren't going to irreparably damage my supposed naivety, no matter what you think. I haven't lived in a 'perfect little place' for some considerable time," Hermione mimicked back at Severus too sweetly.
"All this cloak and dagger nonsense is just ridiculous, Severus. You trusted me before with some of your secrets. I was your student then, so what's changed between then and now?"
"Has anyone ever taken their frustrations out on you, Hermione...other than verbally? Do you know what it's like to live in the constant overbearing knowledge that your presence is so revolting, that you're going to be ignored – truly ignored...forgotten, and left to fend for yourself?
"I've got a fair inkling, Severus..."
"Nonsense," Severus said with a dismissive wave of his right hand. "A couple of weeks being ignored by those imbeciles you call friends is nothing compared to a lifetime of knowing that you're not even worthy of any consideration whatsoever," Severus said in a resigned tone, all the while avoiding Hermione's direct glare.
"There was never any physical violence in my family, but to be wholly ignored is actually worse in many ways. At least if I'd been clouted every so often, I would have known that I wasn't just hidden in the background and unworthy of their attention. They saved their attention for when they yelled at each other. If I happened to see it, I was dismissed as a nothing, not even worthy of them taking pause in whatever argument to consider me."
Severus shook his head fiercely and tried to order his thoughts, unconsciously taking a deep breath and letting out a long sigh. He looked around him at the smattering of students, none of whom seemed to be listening to their conversation, but the urge to stand up and leave was paramount in his mind. He started to reach for his coffee, but realised quickly that he was shaking too much with a combination of rage and fear; Hermione had managed yet again to disarm his usual barriers. Severus wondered just how she managed to get under his skin in such a way that telling her secrets that no one else knew seemed a logical step in their friendship. That sudden unbidden thought was enough to make him again quickly scan his surroundings for a possible escape route...just in case he felt so overwhelmed that he needed to get away from her insistent questions.
Sitting back, his hands in his lap, he looked through the slits of his half closed eyes at the young witch sitting expectantly across from him at the table and wondered just how he'd reached the point where she would be the only person in his life to know almost everything about his past. Minerva knew a few vague details about some of his childhood hurts, but not even Albus knew everything about his feelings of abandonment, and his subsequent disastrous attempt to both please and punish his parents for the hurt they'd caused him.
"This isn't making sense, but you really don't know what I'm talking about, do you, Hermione? No, of course you don't. Well, I do and it's not pleasant. It's the constant state of alert hoping for some small crumb of affection, yet knowing all the while that the only attention I was ever likely to get from my parents came when I'd shamed them by doing poorly at school, or failed to grasp some concept to their satisfaction."
"Who, Severus? Your father?"
"Both of them to a degree, but I could be in a room and my father could walk in, not say a word to me and it was as though I was invisible – a nothing in his eyes."
"Wh...I mean, that's horrible, but why would he do that to a person he loved?"
"They didn't love me, Hermione. They both loved what I represented."
Severus raised his right hand suddenly, palm facing Hermione and said, "No, Hermione, you wanted to know, so please just let me finish. This is difficult enough without your constant interruptions, and if I don't just tell you in one go, I'll Disapparate right now, and the Ministry can bugger themselves before I pay their fine," Severus finished quietly as he swivelled his gaze towards the tennis courts to his right. He couldn't look at Hermione and tell her his sordid little story.
"My parents thought that having a male heir, their only child as it happened, would give them some standing in the insular magical community, and that my maternal grandfather would be more accommodating of our loss of home and status. He wasn't. Grandfather was annoyed with my mother for marrying 'beneath the salt' as he put it. He thought she should have made a better marriage, but my father drank and gambled her dowry away before I entered Hogwarts. Then, when my mother's family refused to advance him more money, my father took his frustration and anger out on the pair of us because we were a reminder of what a mess he'd made of his life. The rest you know, though why I told you...I don't know."
"But surely someone touched you...you weren't completely ignored?"
"Yes, my mother did...for a while, and then when I started to draw away from her, she didn't pursue it. She left me, left us when it all got too much. She abandoned me to my father. I've no idea if she's even alive or dead, nor do I care," Severus said in a resigned tone, with a hint of steel.
"But that still doesn't explain why you don't like to be touched, Severus. If you'd been starved for attention, wouldn't you have sought it out when you could?"
"I did, Hermione, and it remains the worst mistake of many that I have yet to make in my life. Yes, I was thrown a crumb of attention and in doing so, I latched onto something I would never have considered otherwise. The only advantage to my new status was that my father could no longer ignore me. His horror and fear of my power was the sweetest ambrosia for a while...a short while, because he then had to regard me as a product of his neglect. He missed the point even then, but by that time I didn't really care if he feared me for the presumed power I wielded, or the fact that he'd made me what I became."
Severus cleared his throat noisily and made to stand up, but Hermione reached out and touched his left sleeve gently. This time, he flinched but didn't immediately pull away from her touch. Looking across at Hermione then, Severus was surprised to discover that she wasn't looking at him with the pity he's presumed would be the outcome of his story, but with a few tears gracing her cheeks. It was unnerving, but it also left him with an odd sensation of shared sympathy, and had she not spoken, he might just have Apparated away.
"Please stay, Severus. I'm sorry I asked, but I'm not sorry that you told me. I can't imagine what it must have been like for you, but if I promise not to push you too much, will you at least let me show you something?"
Severus grunted, nodded quickly once and stepped out of Hermione's reach before he re-took his seat opposite her. When he'd taken his seat and a hasty, shaking gulp of his now tepid coffee, Hermione reached out her right hand towards where his left hand was lying near the edge of the table. Severus slowly extended his shaking left hand towards Hermione and was rather surprised that he didn't want to move himself away from her again. It was something startling to explore; on his own, later, but certainly not an observation to be shared at this point.
When Hermione was almost touching his fingertips, she stopped and asked gently, "are you sure you're okay with this, Severus?"
Still not looking at her directly, Severus nodded his head slightly and broached the last little distance between their hands. He was rather surprised to find that he was not the only one who was shaking, but that there was some odd spark of recognition that he'd only ever felt once before in his life – and that had also been from the person opposite him now. He hadn't mentioned it before, because he wasn't sure that she even remembered it.
Hermione felt the warmth in his fingertips and gradually moved her hand forward so that it lightly and gently moved over the length of his palm until her fingertips reached the edge of his shirtsleeve. Both of them stayed that way for a while, enjoying the warmth of their shared touch. Neither could have given any real idea of how long they stayed like that, before Hermione reached out with her left hand so that she could turn his unresisting hand over and have access to his palm.
Cradling his left hand gently with her right hand, she resolved not to make Severus too uncomfortable, but she was still astounded that he'd allowed her to do the very thing he wished to have no part of. He'd let her experiment with him and it was a revelation to realise that both of them had crossed some unknown boundary, but just what that entailed was still too volatile to name.
Hermione had no idea just how soft his hand was, and his palm was long, and not too wide. It perfectly matched his long tapering fingers. She looked at his hand critically as the text had suggested, but then decided that improvisation rather than following the dry directions quoted, was going to be more interesting and a way of meeting the requirements of the project, without quoting great tracts of text verbatim in their report.
Severus hadn't said a word since he'd sat down again. He was confused to think that Hermione's touch was welcome in a way that he'd never thought was possible. It was an uncomfortable realisation that he'd missed a great deal by walling himself off from feeling something as simple as having his hand cradled effortlessly. It still didn't stop him from unconsciously scanning his surroundings in case it all became too much and he needed to escape the sensations Hermione was eliciting from him.
Any other thoughts he might have entertained were suddenly interrupted when Hermione gently started tracing around his palm and each finger in turn with her index finger. Her touch was light, almost too light, but he wasn't about to interrupt her so that he could embarrass himself by wanting her touch to continue. He needn't have worried, for Hermione was now tracing each finger in turn, pausing briefly as she reached the webbing between each finger...and it was becoming very uncomfortable to watch her as she explored his hand so thoroughly. Severus doubted she had any idea of the effect on him and he was rapidly reaching a point where no only did he not want her to stop, but he wondered how he could ask her to continue...indefinitely.
Hermione looked up at Severus carefully, mindful of the trance they both seemed to be entwined in, but as he hadn't pulled away, Hermione wanted to make sure that Severus wasn't sitting opposite her trying to work out just when he could bolt from the table. The real shock was the intense look on his face that Hermione spied. It was a completely unguarded look of utter fascination. She could see his eyes moving slowly as they followed the path that her finger was tracing. He also seemed to be unaware of just how much he was moving side to side in his seat. Hermione put that movement down to his discomfort at her presumption, but she wasn't about to ask him if he wanted her to stop. She was enjoying the chance to touch someone in such a way that she could only hope to discern her effect on him, if any.
Neither of them seemed to want this tenuous connection to break, and Hermione was relieved to think that Severus trusted her enough not to push the issue too much. She gently turned his hand over, having laid her palm directly over his. She met no resistance and began mimicking the patterns she'd traced on his palm all over the top of his hand. The same light movement, the same caress of the same points, but from a different perspective saw Severus becoming more and more uncomfortable, but he had no real desire to break their contact.
The outside world had ceased to exist in that time, and neither of them quite realised just how much this simple experiment was to change their whole outlook of each other. Hermione finished up in much the same way as it had started, by slowly moving her palm over the top of his hand, drawing away gradually until there was no more than a hair's breadth between their fingers as their hands rested on the table.
Taking a deep breath, she looked up once more to see Severus looking down at their hands on the table in front of him. He hadn't run which she'd felt had been a distinct possibility, but she'd never expected the odd sort of quiver and warmth radiating throughout her whole body as a result of something so simple as touch. She had no idea what he was thinking, but he seemed to be wholly focused on the table and she was itching to ask him what he thought of the exercise and whether or not it was a good example to use in their assignment.
"Are you alright, Severus? I didn't...I mean, can you tell me what it was like?"
The spell broken, Severus looked up at Hermione as she tentatively asked her questions, but he had no idea of how to answer them. He was alright, but that really didn't answer her in any way that was at all satisfactory. Truth be told, Severus wasn't entirely sure that he was alright, but his tingling hand, and indeed, most of his whole body, was testament to his confusion. It wasn't the only thing confusing him at that point in time, but his mind skittered away from that sort of complication. He felt he should just up and leave what could be a potentially embarrassing conversation, but Hermione seemed genuinely unaware of the power she'd exerted over him. He must have looked shocked, because he could hear her twittering away in the background and he had to concentrate to understand what she was saying.
"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to upset you, Severus. I had no idea it would be like that, but it was meant to be friendly. It was friendly, wasn't it?" Hermione asked quickly, her panic building with each second he remained quietly looking at his hand still resting on the table.
Severus cleared his throat roughly, trying to filter the actual question being asked of him, but alighted on one word...friendly.
"Yes, Hermione, it was friendly, 'very' friendly in fact. It was...it was something rather unusual, and...and I'm not sure exactly how to answer your questions in any satisfactory way."
"I don't understand?"
"Neither do I, Hermione. I can't actually give you a clear and concise answer answer, but I could show you...if you'll let me?" Severus asked tentatively, unsure if Hermione could allow herself to trust him quite that much.
The shock must have registered on his face, because Hermione went to move the upturned right palm she'd placed suddenly on the table in front of him back towards her lap. Severus reached out quickly to stop her, grasping her right hand in his. Both of them let go quickly and resumed their previous distance, yet neither looked away from the intense look they were bestowing across the table at each other.
"My apologies, Hermione. I don't think I can answer your questions, but I do want to show you just what you did. I...just don't know if the direct approach will be appreciated afterwards."
"How so? I didn't do anything that unusual, did I?"
"Give me your hand, Hermione so I can show you something," Severus asked softly, repeating her own earlier request of him.
Hermione looked at him strangely, partly due to his mimicking of her previous request, but more because of the soft tone that he had used. She'd never heard him use that tone of voice before and it shocked her to think that he could sound so genuinely surprised and a little bit amused by just varying his inflection.
Severus cradled her right hand in his left, and proceeded to run his first finger softly over her palm and around each finger in turn. He tried to vary his pressure a little, as he reached the webbing between her fingers, alternately stroking and caressing every inch of her hand in front of him. Unlike Hermione's explorations, Severus was determined to watch her closely to see just when she realised exactly what he meant by 'friendly', but though her face was completely unguarded, Severus lost himself in watching the nuances of her dawning comprehension.
When he'd felt she recognised the meaning of his cryptic answer, Severus was more surprised that Hermione didn't immediately draw away from him, but instead leaned closer and unconsciously parted her lips. It was this mesmerising sight that made Severus want to shift in his seat as he had before, but he was determined to hold the upper hand this time...in a manner of speaking.
Severus spent longer caressing Hermione's palm, using the thumb of his left hand to graze the skin on the top of her hand at the same time. It was at that point that he saw Hermione blush, and yet she still didn't pull away. It was the wholly delectable half-lidded gaze she flashed at him that left Severus in no doubt that she now understood exactly what he'd meant by his definition of 'friendly.'
Like two sparks created by the clash of flint, they continued to look at each other and it was only the abrupt scraping of a chair near them that broke their concentration. Hermione startled and pulled her hand slightly away from Severus' grip, but she didn't withdraw completely.
Her only response as he started to open his mouth, was to lift the fingers of her left hand to cover his lips and nod with a wry smile on her face. She quickly dropped her left hand back to her lap, almost; but not quite, dreading the thought of what their next conversation would entail. It was a mixture of excitement, fear and surprise...and another unexpected discovery, all warring with one another as she tried to sort out exactly what had just happened.
Severus' own response was to quirk an eyebrow at Hermione and return her wry smile with one of his own. Neither seemed willing to break the new understanding, but Hermione seemed unable to help herself.
"I...I...see what you mean by 'friendly', Severus. That was...I mean...I never expected that something so simple, so common could be like that! It was like that for you too, wasn't it?" Hermione asked quietly, almost dreading whatever glib and scathing answer he might proffer in return.
He nodded slowly once and placed both of his hands on the table, palms down. If he was honest with himself, he hoped that Hermione would understand his silent invitation. Hermione understood the silent request and so she lifted her hands from her lap and placed them over Severus' hands, only lowering them when she was looking at him directly. It proved to be a potent mix of excitement, nervousness and...arousal all overlaid by the simple warmth of connecting with another person. Somehow; though neither knew who moved first, each of them turned their hands over and clasped each other's hands gently, using their thumbs to stroke across each other's skin as far as their individual thumbs could reach.
"So?" Hermione queried softly, all the while alternating her gaze from their joined hands to Severus' equally curious face.
"So, indeed, Hermione. I must admit I really didn't think that would happen, but I can't say I'm not glad to have experienced it. It was...unexpected," Severus said in a voice that was half an enquiry and half an admission.
"No, neither did I, but this isn't the first time you've held my hand, Severus."
"You remember?"
"How could I forget? It was a day I doubt I'll ever forget. I think it will be etched into my memory for as long as I choose to think about it," Hermione said with a distinct edge of grief lacing her voice.
"That bad?"
"Both good and bad, for the obvious reasons. It was a revelation and my hand is tingling now...just like it did that afternoon. I suppose the only thing I'm wondering now, is...where do we go from here?" Hermione asked breathlessly, almost fearing that Severus was going to laugh at her and dismiss this as some sort of twisted game.
"I don't know, but all of this rather changes things, doesn't it? I mean...it changes things if you want them to change, Hermione."
"Yes, it does...and yes, I do. How could you think otherwise? I just...but how did things change so quickly, Severus?"
"We decided to 'experiment' is the concise answer, but I really don't know what the actual answer is. I suppose we'll just have to muddle through and see how things sort themselves out."
"Yes, I suppose you could say we discovered something we hadn't realised before...in any real coherent form, that is," Hermione said cryptically, all the while looking anywhere but Severus as she spoke.
Severus gave Hermione a quizzical look and then rewarded her with a rather started look.
"Do you mean what I think you mean?"
"What do you think I mean, Severus?"
"I...I think that if you're trying to goad me, or tease me for my failings, then you're doing a remarkably good job. It was a simple question, Hermione, but if you are playing with me, I'll never forgive you," Severus answered shortly, as he suddenly let go of her hands and turned sideways in his seat to face the tennis courts again.
Hermione stood following his abrupt retreat, and then and moved to her left to face Severus directly. She crouched down and spent a short while trying to get Severus to lift his head and look at her directly by simply staring at his turned face. When he refused to acknowledge her presence in front of him, she placed her hands gently on his knees and said, "you really are silly sometimes, Severus. You accuse me of pushing you, and yet you seem utterly determined to push me away. I've got something important to say to you, but I'd prefer to talk to your face, rather than your ear."
He turned his face then to look at her, and saw the tentative smile she was directing at him.
"If you have something to say, Hermione, I'd prefer you to just say it so that I can leave as soon as possible."
"I don't want you to go, Severus. I didn't mean to tease you...and if I did, then it wasn't something I did consciously. I suppose I was just letting you know something important. Well, I think it was important at any rate, though you might not agree with me."
"Well, what was it?" Severus asked quickly.
"You remember that day in the dungeons? Yes, of course you do. You said as much just now. Well, when you watched me that day, it made me feel protected and cared for, but all of that changed as soon as I grasped your hand. I didn't recognise it then, but things changed from that moment, maybe for both of us? Until today I really didn't understand what that change was, or maybe I did understand and I just tried to ignore it all."
"Do you mean that?"
"Of course I do, Severus. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it!" Hermione shot back in an exasperated tone.
"Are you always so quick to show your temper, Hermione?"
"Only when I think it's warranted or someone I care for is being deliberately obtuse and disagreeable," Hermione said in a huff.
"You really do care for me?" Severus asked in an incredulous tone.
"Yes, Severus, I really do care for you, which is why I find you so bloody infuriating sometimes. This is all very new for me too, and if I'm not comfortable with something, I'll let you know first of all."
"I can believe that," Severus said with a smirk.
"Will you also believe me when I tell you that I will never ever play with your feelings either?"
Severus nodded, suddenly unable to voice his shock and surprise at Hermione's impassioned talk of seeing where all of this might lead. He knew she'd never deliberately hurt his feelings, but it was all so raw and new that he couldn't simply throw all his caution aside. His thoughts were interrupted as Hermione suddenly looked at her watch and stood up in front of him again.
"Severus, I have to go. No, not because of all this," Hermione said quickly when she saw the hurt look on Severus' face. "I'll be late for work if I don't leave soon. I hope I'll see you tonight, but I'll understand if I don't," Hermione said hurriedly.
Severus stood up as well and watched as Hermione flapped around picking up her backpack and smoothing down her hair. Then she surprised him by turning towards him quickly, and pecked him lightly on the cheek. As she started to leave, Hermione turned to face him again and called out suddenly.
"If I don't see you tonight, I'll see you on Friday, Severus. Sorry...oh hell, I'm really going to be late," as she spied her watch again, and then walked swiftly away from him, all the while leaving Severus standing near their table looking utterly surprised by her all over again.
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