Chapter Thirteen: Interpreter

What am I doing?

Hermione lay beside Ron on his bed, fully clothed and quite intending to stay that way. The boy had promised to hold her in her sleep, but as soon as sleep took over, he had released his hold and rolled to the side, taking the covers with him. His soft snores and contented cherubic face were the only things keeping her from stealing them back, forcefully if she had to. Ron was being good to her. It was she who was causing the problems.

It had made sense when she kissed him. Ron had been so…protective. So strong and sure and a guiding force; he was what she needed. She couldn't deny he was attractive, and there were times that she felt as if they had crossed the border between friends and lovers in their silences, those lulls in conversation that were more intimate than a caress.

And there had been sparks. Horrible, sickening sparks of pleasure that had run up and down her body when he touched her. She could feel that his body wanted hers, could feel what effect she had on him. It had been a kiss far more heated than those Sev – Snape had parted to her. The sparks she had felt then were not so much urgent as questioning, a sparkling lure to see what the next kiss had to offer. Ron's kiss was far more the fireworks type.

And yet, it was a kiss far less intimate.

And yet, Ron was safe and warm and sweet.

And yet, he had made her stomach turn.

And yet, Snape had wanted to Obliviate her.

And yet, maybe she was jumping to conclusions.

Oh, bugger.

Turning over and curling into a ball, Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and tried to sleep. Three hours later, she was at last successful.

Potions were simple. Ingredients were combined with each other to produce, infallibly, the intended result. Cause and effect had rules and boundaries. You could create the same potion a thousand times without fail, if you knew what you were doing.

He hadn't expected her to have such a strong reaction to the disappearance of the aura. He hadn't expected the stress of the past few days to overwhelm her. He hadn't expected to make things worse by controlling himself and holding off until he understood what was happening to them. He hadn't expected that the sight of her breaking down would make him want to hold her, to touch her, to press her close to him and let himself feel her.

He had wanted to kiss her. Not to take her, not to fuck her, not to use her for his own pleasure. Just to kiss her, and feel her kiss back.

Severus Snape never got what he wanted.

He stared at the door a long time after she had fled, feeling empty and hollow and lost. What had he done wrong? Had he frightened her? What must he have looked like, for her to have run off like that?

Severus made his way into his private rooms and peered into his mirror. Stoic. Cold. Repulsive. He sneered. It was the only face he knew how to make anymore. The gods be damned, it had been too long since he was able to show emotion; obviously, his facial muscles were out of practice. Where she had gotten the idea that he would do the horrible things she had said was no mystery. By the Gods.

"You've fucked up royally, Severus." He sank down onto his bed, head in hands. He couldn't follow her, or even send her a note. She wouldn't be receptive to his words now. All he could do was wait until she returned to his teachings.

Teachings. Fuck the teachings. He had to wait until she returned to him.

Hermione Granger had never been more terrified in her life. She stood wide-eyed and stock-still as a statue, eyeing the doors to the Great Hall with the trepidation one would feel inches from the proverbial lion's mouth. The echo of voices through the thick wood was reminiscent of a riot, or the crowd at the Coliseum, thirsty for blood.

More terrifying, however, was the silence that she could identify as specifically Snape's. She knew he was eyeing the lone member of the Golden Trio and wondering where the illustrious Head Boy and Girl were, knew his suspicious mind would sneer that they were currently helping each other earn those titles.

More terrifying was the fact that she didn't know if he would be indifferent, or jealous, or outright furious.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea, Ron. Maybe we should, I don't know, check up on someone in the Hospital Wing, and just pretend that we were doing that this whole time. Who's in there now? Fredrickson? The little second year who tried to get the pieces of Harry's broom out of the Whomping Willow?"

"I had forgotten about that…stupid shit…but no, Hermione. You're not backing out of this. You asked for my help, and I'm giving it." His look was stern, and Hermione felt a sinking feeling in her gut.

"Come on, dearest," Ron nearly sneered, gripping her hand and plastering a large smile on his face. "Let's give the people the show they want and teach ol' Snapey a lesson, huh?"

More like you're teaching me a lesson, Ron. When did you become so Slytherin?

"Ron, I - "

"Shut up, honey lamb."

He shoved open the doors, his expression one of incredible self-satisfaction, while Hermione looked appropriately guilty. The picture of a newly-forged couple. Heads turned to see who had entered, and Hermione was mortified to see that they turned back without a comment. As if seeing the cause of her blush, Ron leaned in to whisper in her ear, still smiling.

"They've assumed we've been shagging all year. How does it feel to be a promiscuous love-bunny, angel cakes?"

"Shut up."

"Hermione, one of these days someone is going to have to open your eyes to the real world. I'm just taking the initiative today to save you from it later, when there's more to hurt you." His voice was still in carefully harsh tones, but she could feel the softness supporting his words. Fury and anxiety warred with gratitude in her breast, and she closed her eyes briefly before looking towards the head table.

He wasn't even looking at her.

"Breaks your heart, doesn't it?" Ron's words were low and solemn.

"I guess that what we do doesn't matter, then."

Ron squeezed her hand, almost painfully. "Look closer. Are you that blind?"

He was staring into his tea, shoulders hunched, not moving a muscle. He looked…shamed. No, humiliated. And old. And…devastated.

"Oh my God."

"Quite right, sweetcheeks."

"Ron, will you fucking stop it with the endearments already?"

"I can last all day, pumpkin pie."

"Ron."

He didn't look at her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, eyes downcast. She was asking far too much of Ron – teasing the boy she knew loved her, by pretending she had affections for him in order to spur another man to take her. She shouldn't have been surprised that he was acting so...bitter. "I didn't think. I'm sorry for what I'm doing...to both of you."

"I know."

There was a beat, and he smiled again, this time genuinely. "Cuddle muffin."

Hermione laughed, but it was bitter. Ron squeezed her hand, this time gently. "I promised I'd help you, Hermione, and I meant it. It's not going to be easy, for you or for him, but I'll help you make it all right."

"Ron. Why are you doing this? I mean…I've been horrible to you. And you've never liked Snape…Sev…him. Why are you helping us like this? I'd have expected you to say that we don't belong together, that I should quit the apprenticeship, that this is wrong and sick and something out of Nobokov's Lolita."

Ron was puzzled at the reference, but silent for a moment before answering. "Mum and Dad took the Adamare Animae when they were teenagers. They were dating other people at the time, and an epidemic of the potion was going through Hogwarts. The professors knew none of it – thought it was spring fever – but the potion helped so many people come together. Including my parents. They would have married their current lovers at the time if it hadn't been for the Adamare, and neither of them would have been happy." He glanced over at her. "If I don't believe in the potion, I can't believe in them."

This time it was Hermione who squeezed his hand. "Thanks, Ron."

"You're welcome, sugar buns."

Her absence in the hall had struck him like a knife. She and Weasley, gone. Head Girl and Boy. Gods. What had happened between the respective Heads in his time at school? There had been tales of sordid liasons, of dents in the walls behind the Head beds, of late night study sessions turned orgies. In the hard-earned privacy of private rooms, won by the students who had the most fun to make up after all their years of studying, there was the potential for anything and everything to occur.

Fun. Severus sneered. She would find Weasley fun, wouldn't she? A young man she could use and throw away, no middle-aged ball and chain to ruin the rest of her life. Someone who would kiss her in public and show her off and let her have her way. Someone who would smother her with affection and simpering glances, and who would take her out to fancy restaurants barely afforded by whatever part-time job he could glean...

He nearly gagged on the lump in his throat, the repulsive feeling of jealousy washing bile into his esophagus. Weasley was what any teenage girl wanted, not him. He hadn't even been an object of lust in his own sexual prime; more like a social pariah. Severus wasn't a fine wine; he didn't get better with age. It was entirely too possible that he was rotting instead, going from bad to worse each time he garnered another year. It was good that Hermione – Granger – was going after someone her own age. Good that she had stopped wasting her time on someone who was practically a corpse...

The hall doors clanked open, and Severus was acutely aware of the ensuing hush and then the bubble of gossip that immediately burst over the assembled student body. He didn't look up until the talking had subsided and he was sure her loathing glances had followed suit.

Severus raised his head slowly, peeking over his teacup to focus on the young woman who had become the object of his desire and guilt amalgamated. Her head was turned towards Weasley, his own undercooked features stretched into a wide grin, causing Severus's stomach to roil. Granger nodded enthusiastically, her curls bouncing in an all too familiar fashion, before she turned back to her food. Had Severus stopped looking then, this story might have ended here.

As her features relaxed from their simpering smile, Severus's heart nearly stopped. On her face now was an expression of despair, regret, and shame. It closely resembled his own upon their entry. Had the other two members of the Gryffindor brats hosted the same, it would have merely passed as a Golden Trio® Moment of Regret for Souls Lost to the War. However, exclusively on the young woman whose indiscretions had ruined his breakfast, the meaning was altogether more sinister.

Rage rankled in Severus's eyes, and he focused his intense gaze on Weasley. What had he done to ensnare her? What piece of blackmail was he holding to acquire her affections? She couldn't be sincere...not when her face looked like that. All of his hurt and betrayal coalesced into blind fury directed at the Weasley boy, at Granger's inability to protect herself from such situations. How had he compromised her? Had she told him of the Adamare Animae? Had she gone to him in her hurt and confusion, only to get the sort of comfort that one could buy for a few Galleons on the streets? Had the comfort she found in her supposed friend cost the far loftier price of pride and freedom? What had she been thinking?

Severus felt a cold hand close over his heart. What had she been thinking? He didn't even know her. Not enough to really have a grasp of what was going on in that head of hers. The thoughts that went through her mind were completely foreign; he couldn't second guess her if he didn't even have a first guess, now could he? It was different when one was trying to analyze the ways of another heart, rather than the ways of another's greed for power, or sense of justice. This was not at all what he had been trained for.

What am I doing? Why do I even pursue her? I'm out of my league, and way out of my depth. Pushing back from his place at the table, Severus left the Great Hall, leaving only a slowly cooling mug of coffee to mark that he had ever been there.

How ironic that all of his students muttered to themselves that he was in a good mood when in reality he was at his most foul and self-deprecating; that he was in a horrid temper when he was feeling, on the whole, quite cheerful. At this time, when he would prefer a bit of peace and quiet, his students were running rampant, delighted at getting away with things they would never dream of were Severus Snape in his right humor.

Now, classes over, dungeons still and stifling (but quiet, thank Merlin; quiet.), the sallow-skinned man stared listlessly at the spaces between the words in his book.

Fool, he thought, bitterly. Fool.

His eyes closed, fingers moving to massage life back into them, when he felt the wards being breached. Jumping up from his chair and quickly rearranging his appearance to one of stoic disdain for mankind, Severus approached the door and opened it before the intruder could knock.

A startled, freckled countenance stared back.

Something snapped inside Severus at the sight of the Weasley boy. Strong, long fingers closing over Ron's bony wrist, Severus pulled the startled man-child inside and flung him into the nearest chair. He approached the wide-eyed menace as a panther would its helpless prey, eyes growing dark and hateful.

"Well, Weasley, come to gloat about your latest conquest? About to blackmail me with your knowledge, and flaunt the fact that you are able to molest the girl in the sight of thousands while I am confined to watch her from afar out of fear of legal retribution? Or are you simply here to play goody-good and offer me your condolences, while throwing in my face the fact that she avoids me because I am repulsive, a corpse ready to lay in the ground and forget? Stop shaking, you loathsome worm, and answer me!"

"I - "

"Not good enough," Severus snapped, slamming his hands down on either arm of the chair, nose stuck in the redhead's line of vision, close enough to make his eyes cross. "You had better come up with a clever, all-encompassing excuse before I hex you in so many ways you'll have to carry a certificate that asserts your humanity. I'll count to ten."

"Please - "

"One."

"Sir, I..."

"Two."

"...wanted to..."

"Three."

"...tell you that..."

"Four. Losing patience."

"...Hermione and I..."

"Five. Hurry up, counting faster! Six!"

"...aren'treallyacoupleand..."

"Seven, Weasley!"

"...youscaredtheshiteoutofherandshe'safraidtotellyouwhatshefeelsaboutyoubecauseshethinksyou'llrejectherandshe'sbeingstupidrightnowandwon'tlistentomesoIthoughtIwoulddobetterifIcouldtellyouwhereshe'scomingfromandhowtodealwithherwhenshe'sbeinglikethisandyou'retheonethepotionpickedsoweallhavetodealwiththatnowokay?" The boy was panting, fear in his eyes, sweat rolling down the sides of his face. Severus stared down at him, rather dazed.

"What?"

Weasley gulped. "My parents took this potion. I know it's something real, and there's no way Hermione messed it up, so I've got to believe that she really does, or really will...love you some day." This admission seemed to make the boy turn a little green, but he hurried on. "And both of you are stubborn people, so I know neither of you will come make amends. I don't know what you did to her to scare her off, but I do know how she ticks, and it'll be better for everyone if you get each other straight, okay?"

Severus raised an eyebrow in disbelief. What kind of con was this child trying to pull on him?

Weasley caught the look, blurting, "...and what I was doing today wasn't anything underhanded...okay, it was, a little, but it wasn't intended for you...see, if everyone thinks we're dating, I can be your cover..."

"My what?" Severus's expression cleared. Hang on, the brat's onto something here...

"Your fall guy. You send messages through me for when the two of you meet, so the only thing that ever shows up connected to her is me. In public, I act like the boyfriend, so no matter how girly she acts over you, they think I'm the cause. I'm the only one she shares a common room with, so I'm the only one that will see her coming in late, and I won't say anything, I swear." He paused. "Look, I'm doing this for her. She's Head Girl, and an early apprentice to boot. She'll get into just as much trouble as you if she's found out. It just happens to help you, too. I'm not happy about it, but this is what happens when people become an odd couple."

Severus pushed himself back from Weasley's chair, stepping away a few paces before letting his breath escape in a shuddering susurration. "You'll help me understand her?" His voice was low and distant.

"Yes."

"And cover our tracks so none can accuse us of wrongdoing?"

"Yes."

"What do you expect to get out of this, Weasley?" Severus's eyes were hard, calculating, and ultimately dangerous.

The redheaded delinquent shrugged his shoulders, trying hard and failing to suppress his nerves. "Nothing much. Maybe have the rest of the term without Hermione breaking down into tears, maybe have you hate me a little less. Really, though; she's my friend. I just want to help her."

Severus marveled at the way a day could turn around. At dawn, he had given up all hope of happiness and fulfillment. Now, the Holy Grail of all he wished for, the Rosetta Stone to his desires, had dropped into his dungeon, ripe for the plucking. With this new tool, how could he fail?

"Mister Weasley, I believe we have a contract. A warning - if you breach your word, the most painful of deaths await." Severus held out a hand, which Weasley took warily.

"Now the first step, see, is to stop being so bloody scary all the time..."

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A/N: And this is the part where I grovel. But, no, I can explain my absence! After graduation, the summer only got more complicated, with a close friend of mine slipping into depression and another (ex) close friend of mine breaking my heart. After summer began college, which took up both time and a toll on my spirits. However, when Halloween hit, the trials of the summer were erased when that first close friend of mine and I admitted feelings for each other, making the both of us believe in love again. The next few months were spent forging our relationship and taking finals and holiday obligations, which brings us here, to a rejuvinated writer. Also, I recently acquired a new beta! Welcome Sinaz to the team! She's incredibly lovely already, and has my thanks. Hopefully, with her help and my refreshed outlook on life, I won't get this far behind again. Thank you so much for your patience, and I do hope you all are still reading.

Thanks to all of you especially who have reviewed during this interim. There is no way I could list you all here, but each and every one of you have my gratitude.