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A Snape/Hermione fic.
Chapter Eleven.
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Disclaimer: See Ch. 1.
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A/N: Ok, I just realized that I didn't put an Author's Note here before ...
So, anyway, here's chapter eleven. Thanks for sticking with this story, and thanks for all the great reviews!
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It had been many years since Hermione Granger had had an anxiety attack. She'd had them quite frequently when she was young, and several times at Hogwarts when she was worried about her grades. She'd had one when she'd found out she was pregnant, but not many after that.
This anxiety attack hit her hard, and she fell to her hands and knees on Snape's carpeted floor, trying desperately to control her breathing.
Not knowing what to do or how to help, Snape moved to her side and knelt beside her, placing a hand on her back and trying to speak to her.
"Miss Granger ... Professor Granger, can you hear me? You need to calm down," he tried, but it was useless.
Tears fell from Hermione's eyes as her body shook, and her hand moved of its own accord to the larger one on the carpet beside her. She didn't entirely register that it was Snape's hand, but she clutched it with her smaller one and tried to focus on that instead of her world crashing around her.
Snape wanted to pull his hand away, but he figured it must be helping her, so he let her squeeze as hard as she needed to.
She turned her hand so it was in line with his, then slid her fingers between his, gripping the underside of his hand with her fingertips. A few stray teardrops fell on their hands, but Hermione was already beginning to come down from her attack.
A few minutes later her breathing had returned to normal, and she wiped her eyes with her free hand.
"How could this happen?" she asked him with a shaky voice. "How could someone like him get that kind of a job? He's a Death Eater ... how could no one have noticed?"
Snape awkwardly pulled her hair away from her face with his free left hand, not knowing how to comfort her. "I don't know how it happened. But I will put an end to it. I have the memories that I extracted from you ... we can have him put away for the rest of his life."
Hermione glanced over at him beside her on the floor, not noticing their awkward position, or that they were still 'holding hands'. "I don't think I can ... I don't want to see him. I don't want to see either of them," she told him.
Snape sighed. "More than you want him to get away with what he did?"
Hermione practically growled, dropping her head down and staring at her knees while her hair curtained down around her. "He's been getting away with it for the last 4 years! What difference does it make anymore?" She just wanted to forget any of it ever happened. She wanted Samantha, but none of the memories.
He took the hand from her back and used it to pull her hair over her other shoulder and after a moment's hesitation, took her chin and turned her head to face him. "The difference is: if you don't do something, he could and will do it to someone else."
He felt her jaw clench repeatedly under his fingers, then she rolled her eyes back and groaned. "Fine!" she griped, turning her head to glare at him.
He allowed a half-smile to grace his features, happy that she was onboard.
Hermione finally had her breathing completely under control, and felt a sense of calm after committing to going after the men who'd attacked her. Along with the calm, she suddenly became aware of the sensations all over her body. The first being her that her knees were getting sore. His carpet was nice to the touch, but too thin. The next thing she noticed was that her fingers were locked around his hand, and that his fingers had bent to cover hers. Third, she noticed that his calloused - but not unpleasant to the touch - hand was still holding her chin softly. Finally, she realized that for some strange reason, she had yet to move away from his touch.
Her eyes locked onto his as her breath hitched in her throat, and she felt her skin growing hot. All of a sudden she had too much saliva in her mouth, and the resulting swallow felt too much like a gulp. She felt like she did when he'd pulled her out of the hall and into an empty classroom, and she'd gotten into his face while ranting about her mother. She felt like she had when he brought her home after going out for drinks, and she'd hit him for looking at her memories without permission ... when she'd pushed herself up on her tip-toes so she could reach his ...
Oh my, Hermione thought as everything clicked into place. I can't believe I didn't realize ... should probably make a quick exit before he realizes that I ... yeah, I really gotta go.
"I should probably get going," she breathed in a whisper, loosening her hand on top of his. A second later he straightened his fingers, allowing her to pull her hand away. The one holding her chin dropped back to his side as she straightened his back and rose to his feet.
He extended his hand to help her up, and after a quick glance at his face accepted the offer and placed her soft hand in his, standing up.
"So, I guess we'll talk later ... about what to do," Hermione suggested.
Snape nodded, giving her hand a shake to justify holding it with his for a moment longer. "We both have patrol tomorrow night ... we could discuss it then."
"Okay, then," she replied, giving his hand a quick squeeze before pulling away and walking into the kitchen to the front door. Opening the door, she was halfway out when she spoke, "I'll see you tomorrow, Professor."
He dipped his head in goodbye, watching her close the door and wondering what the hell had happened.
Hermione was nearly at her rooms before she realized she'd left her cloak behind. She thought about returning for it, but couldn't make herself turn around. She had to get out of there and think.
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Hermione thanked Dobby for watching Samantha and he popped back to the kitchens with a deep bow. She stepped slowly into her daughter's room, making her way to the rocking chair beside her bed. Careful not to wake her snoring daughter, Hermione settled into the chair, watching her sleep while her own mind was racing.
So much to comprehend in one night. She didn't want to deal with the Snape part of it, so she focused on the larger part of the evening ... in less than a week he'd sought out and found the men who'd attacked her, when no one else had been able to do anything with her lack of memory-recall. She wondered what would have happened if she'd thought to use Legilimency. Would I have willingly let anyone see what all had been done to me that night? She doubted it.
Reaching for the back of her neck, she traced her finger against the skin covered by the shorter hairs and found the scar they'd left when they'd dragged her across the alley floor to hide her body, cutting her on a sharp rock. Glancing down at her feet, she could still see the slight bend in her third toe on the left foot where they'd broken it shoving her legs wide apart enough for them to maul her.
Her wounds had been taken care of by a muggle doctor, as she'd been unconscious when someone had found her, and as a result didn't heal as quickly as she would have if a medi-witch had healed her.
Glancing down at her sleeping daughter's precious face, Hermione forced the pain of that night out of her mind, and thought about what Snape was offering. Not only the chance to put away the man who'd gotten away with assaulting her, but being able to stop him from ever doing it to anyone else ever again. It was more than tempting.
She tried not to think about what her life would have been life if she'd never had Samantha. Under those circumstances, at least. She might have become an Auror along with Harry, or she may have gone on to continue her education at some advanced school for either witches or muggles. For a person with her capacity for learning, she truly could have done anything ... but as she looked down at the little girl who resembled her so, she couldn't make herself long for the life she could have had.
"I won't make putting him away about fixing my life," Hermione whispered, leaning her head back on the cushion of the rocking chair.
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Hermione got through her classes the next day in anxious anticipation of the discussion she would be having with Snape that night. They acknowledged each other briefly throughout the day, but it wasn't until he left the staff table after supper that he slipped her a note telling her when and where to meet him.
Dobby expressed his gratitude once more at being given such an important and trustworthy task of "babysitting" while she did her rounds, and Hermione was grateful he saw it that way. She wished that Dobby would let her pay him in some way, but he assured her that what he received from the Headmistress was more than enough.
She made her way to the third floor corridor, the very same one they as students had been warned against going near. As she paced the hall, she found herself wondering what had become of Fluffy ... if Hagrid had been forced to get rid of him, if he now lived in the Forbidden Forest, or if he still lived within the castle.
She had reached the end of the hall, lost in her thoughts, and turned around to continue her pacing and nearly ran into a brick wall resembling that of Professor Snape.
"Jeeze!" Hermione hissed, stepping back. "Would it kill you to make noise when you walk?"
Snape shrugged. "Habit."
Hermione sighed. "Right ... of course."
"Shall we?" Snape spoke, motioning for them to walk.
Hermione nodded. "Sure."
They began their patrol of the halls, but he had chosen a place where students rarely came. Now that it was no longer off-limits, students seldom sought it out after hours.
"Okay, so ... how do you want to do this?" Hermione started.
"Well, obviously the spell they placed on you is still intact, and very powerful. I doubt I'll be able to remove it, as I was not the one to cast it, and I don't know the exact incantation," he explained.
"So, I still won't be able to physically identify him?" she concluded.
"Not necessarily," Snape corrected. "I believe I've found a way to work around the spell."
Hermione glanced over at him while they walked. "Okay, I'm listening."
Snape crossed his hands behind his back. "It might be possible to store your memories in a pensieve," he suggested.
Hermione shook her head. "I already tried that. Arthur Weasley suggested it when I couldn't give a description to the magical law enforcement officers, but it didn't work. The spell prevented it, I suppose."
Snape nodded. "I expected as much, but as you may recall, I was able to access those memories."
Hermione looked down in embarrassment. "Well, I never thought to have someone use Legilimency on me. I don't understand though ... would it be enough evidence for you to pull the memory of seeing it in my mind out of your mind? Couldn't they just say it was a false memory?" She thought back to when Harry told her of what Slughorn had done.
Snape answered, "I won't be extracting the memory from my mind, I'll pull it from yours, but while our minds are linked ... it's complicated, but I think it can be done. I believe that my presence in the extraction will enable it to be successful, so long as I am experiencing the memory while it is being extracted."
Hermione was not looking forward to him seeing everything all over again, but if he thought it would work, she didn't know what other choice she had.
"Okay, when do you want to do it?" she asked him.
He turned to look at her. "Whenever you feel ready."
Hermione just wanted it over and done with. "Tomorrow night?"
Snape was silent for a moment before nodding his head and continuing his patrol, not saying anything when she walked alongside him instead of returning to the route she'd been assigned.
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End of chapter eleven.
Hope you guys liked this one. I know ... still no kiss. Might be soon though ... might.
Flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful.
Until next time ...!