A/N: Let's recap, shall we? It's been four days in the story and three days between our favorite couple. He's dropped off into a stress and magic induced coma (consider it a light one that's much easier to wake from than a deep one) and Hermione's just left St Mungo's after having to deal with Gladys the Ebil Nurse. Neville kissed Ron and Ron ran off to get his bearings. Hermione had an earlier run-in with the mother of a grammar-school-mate whose conversation left her with some interesting things to think about.
Please remember, I own this not! I only like to play with their figurines and draw naughty pictures (which have been banned on a rather "deviant" website that shall not be named). Yes, I'm still carping about that. If you'd like to check them out (and they are DEFINITELY NOT safe for work) then check out my live journal under azalea_nymph.
Thank you, everyone who has supported me through this terrible, trying time of having to move my naughty art to a private site and THANK YOU ever so much more for staying with me through this story! I love every single one of my reviews! Even the threats ;) :P
So, without further ado, and please accept my apologies for the delay, here is Chapter 20.
/
Hermione sighed into the empty kitchen of her parent's house, growing more and more heartsick by the moment, and set her teacup down into the white cast iron sink to wash up later. She caught her reflection in the window, a dark shadow in the backlit gloaming super-imposed over the evening garden view.
She didn't know which was worse, the reflection that looked like so much tangled crap, or that her father's once beautifully and carefully wild garden was now so very ascetic. With a little whimper, she squinted through the darkness to make out what used to be a rather gorgeously drooping hops vine but was now hacked back to the trellis.
It hurt to look at it. Daddy had put so much of himself into that garden and now it was ruined. Now it was...no. No, she'd not think of that, now. She'd not think of all the hundreds of poor choices she'd made in the past few years. Who'd have thought that so much could change so quickly? A few days ago, she'd been completely confident that she'd made all the right choices in her life, but now?
Dammit, this was getting her nowhere—
Marta's just wouldn't stop circling her brain. 'My capability has become my liability.'
She stopped another sigh and instead turned stiffly away with a sharp inhalation, stomping off towards the living room. Once there, she looked around the painfully empty room full of nothing but inanimate, empty photographs and stolid furniture and dropped onto her mother's chenille sofa, rubbing her fingers over her face with a groan.
"What have I done?" What's wrong with me? It wasn't clear which question was worse, but it was fairly certain she'd cocked things up rather well. She could easily elaborate upon the faults of all the other people involved, but really...when it came down to the line...
It really was all her fault. Her parents, Harry...Severus...
'There's someone else, isn't there?'
She made another non-descript noise into her hands and fell over onto her side, rubbing into the cushions, looking for some kind of comfort in her despair.
Really, she'd done all this to herself, hadn't she? This hadn't been quick. She'd let it build, slowly, over years and she'd not even paid attention to it. A broken sob and a sniffle slipped out of her. She was trying so hard not to just fall apart, but it was so hard. Especially when she was all alone like this.
What else could she have done? It was hard to think of her actions being any different than they had been, but what if she'd done things differently? What if she'd taken up more time with Harry, more time with Ronald? Again Marta's voice filtered into her head from their conversation that afternoon: 'I didn't need him, I took care of the house, the funds, the family...'
Had she really ostracized everyone like that? The three of them had obviously been growing apart without her really seeing it, as she buried herself in the Foundation or research for Severus – which was a geas of guilt, anyway, after leaving him in the Shrieking Shack without checking his pulse. Why did she even do that? It was such a simple thing for her to have done? Hell, she'd even known how to make a portkey, so why hadn't she done that?
'Who did you leave behind?'
A tiny, rational part of her brain squeaked out that there was no way she could have known which side he was on at the time. Not until Harry told her about those memories...
But that was beside the point! What about common decency?
She scoffed at herself. Right. She, who was the height of common decency. If that were true, she'd have married Ronald, when he asked.
After the war, she supposed she should have accepted Ronald's proposal, or his family...she could have been at the Burrow right now instead of her parents empty shell of house.
'There's someone else, isn't there?'
She blearily cast her gaze around the haunted living room, full of her family's ghosts. God, this place, it was so horribly lonely!
What would her parents think of everything, now? Of her choices, her schooling? She'd not sat for her NEWTs...The Ministry had said they would gift them with honorary scores after what they'd been through—and at the time, she'd just wanted to move on with her life. But now? Now, no one wanted to hire her for anything without an actual certificate.
'My capability has become my liability...'
The only job she could get was bumming off her somewhat unapparent best friend. Not to mention that the job was simply an extension of her war efforts. It was like no one thought she could do anything else!
Oh, her mother would be so disappointed in the mess she'd made of her academic career! She could have gone into law, or research...and she hadn't researched the Magical Creatures Laws enough to protect Remus like she should have. What did that say about her? She loved Remus like an uncle. And what about poor Tonks and Teddy? Lord, would Teddy become a ward of the Ministry if both of his parents were taken to Azkaban? Harry would really never forgive her then ...not that she was in much favor, now...
'He didn't leave you, you left him, right?'
She cried out at the remembered pain of her fight with Harry and Remus. That had hurt, so very badly, to hear what he'd said, to see him turn against her like that. Maybe she'd not been one hundred percent on top of every issue, but honestly! What else could she have done! She'd done everything she could to get Severus out of that horrid place...
And Severus! She'd left Severus behind in the shack, didn't go back for him quick enough, didn't look for him hard enough afterwards...She didn't even know how he'd ended up at Hestry's. Or how long he'd really been there. Did he wake up to enemies? Alone? Frightened?
'Who did you leave behind?'
All of those letters between him and Dumbledore...he never once showed fear.
God, she couldn't think! Seeing his hair cut so short that first time behind that tiny window had been so heartbreaking, she knew she'd just have to get him out of there! She remembered Harry's and Remus' words. Had it been the right thing to bring him back to Grimmauld after Hestry's? Should she have taken him directly to St. Mungo's? She groaned into the sofa cushion, thinking about how she'd even screwed up a simple file retrieval from Tennet Hall and let Severus tag along – why had she done such a stupid thing? - then got him stuck with an obviously deranged nurse at the hospital...
She'd done nothing right! He nearly died that night and it was all her fault!
She cracked open one eye to rid its view of Severus on that gurney, and instead took in the mahogany fireplace mantle covered in half-empty pictures that had once been full of her pre-Hogwarts accomplishments and summer holidays.
She shut that eye tightly and curled in on herself, wanting to squeeze out the pain currently coursing through her body. What was worse than all of the litany of things clawing at her brain, worse than everything she'd done, was that she'd sent her own parents off without any idea of who she was. She'd modified their memories where they couldn't even remember they had a child. An awful idea formed in her mind: What if they'd looked into adopting? Or...or, well, they weren't young, but they weren't past the age they could try to have another child... If it were a girl, would they name her Hermione, too?
'My capability has become my liability.'
Her face screwed up in pain and she pressed it harder into the fabric of the sofa, wanting to scrub her horrible acts away from her mind's eye.
Oh, God! If only she'd paid more attention! Slowed down! Or at least thought before assuming her plan was the best, the only recourse. The pain in her throat and behind her eyes finally gave way to the tears waiting to pour forth and she just let herself cry harder and harder into the sofa seat beneath her face, sobbing out her losses and failures.
Her day swirled around and around her brain, unrelenting in lashing at her conscience. Harry betrayed her, kicked her out...and Remus was mad at her...Ronald hadn't been around, but God, what if he took Harry's side? She hadn't even seen him since leaving him with Neville...and Neville told that awful woman not to let her in to see Severus! She'd needed to see him so badly this evening, if only to assure herself that there was one person left on this Earth that even wanted her company...and...and... "And I want Mu-u-ummy! I want my Daddy! Everything's just so...so awful!" She buried her face into the seat and let out several moaning cries that eventually bled into one low, raw scream of pain.
Her face was hot and she could feel the fingers of a headache reaching into her brain from her overwrought sinuses. The harder she cried, the more she wanted to and it was just such a mess! She couldn't figure out a way to fix anything and her brain was just...mud. She finally surrendered her thoughts with a wracking shudder and let her eyes stare, unfocussed, into the room until exhaustion claimed her.
It was for some time that she drifted in tears and whimpers on the sofa, finally falling into a weary sleep with a pale white light pulsing at the edges of her vision.
/
Her patronus grew agitated, still keeping its perch on Severus' chest. It started pawing at him, wriggling a bit, especially when the people around its target poured potion after potion down his throat.
It needed so badly to give its message. Everything would be alright if it could only give its message. Swirling around with a flick of its tail, it stood up, forcing the other people away.
Giving a cursory glance at those people and recognizing no need to speak to them, it looked back to its intended target and concentrated. Maybe it couldn't say its purpose with him asleep, but it could certainly do something to wake him up.
With a shiver of light, it jumped in the air, dispersing into something a little less solid and flew down into the man's open mouth and nose.
The little bit of Hermione's soul dove through the plain of this man's mind for the bit of his soul that would help.
/
"Astrid, go get more nutritive potions, please." Neville looked between his nurses and sighed. This was going to be a long night, getting Snape stable.
Muriel looked to him, worry evident in her expression as she nodded. "This is the best time to get them down and he needs them badly. I don't think Gladys fed him anything, or if she did, he refused to take it."
He turned his head away to the blank wall before looking down to Snape and the otter patronus sleeping on his chest. "I don't want to think about Gladys right now. She's dismissed at the end of her shift tonight."
His head nurse nodded with a gleam of satisfaction, then changed the subject, "What do you think about this, then?" She gestured to the bright mist between them.
He laughed a bit, a little unhinged. "That? I have no idea..."
They both shifted back a little as it swirled up to a stand and looked around. Neville looked to Muriel, "What about you?"
"I've never seen any Patronus hover this long. If they can't give their message, they usually try to—"
The both of them stepped a full length backwards as the patronus literally jumped inside Snape.
"Do that."
Astrid came rushing into the room with a handful of potions. Looking at their faces, she asked, "What? What did I miss?"
Neville's answer was interrupted by Snape bowing upwards from the middle, his mouth and eyes wide open in physical shock. They rushed him and each performed different diagnostics on his prone form.
"He's still out like a light."
"His heartbeat is improving."
"Right. Hand me those and I'll pour them in while he's open."
"Muriel, do you have his throat?"
"Got it."
"Merlin, it's like he's staring right at you."
"Get over it, Astrid, I need you steady tonight."
"There, that's the last of it. Mister Snape?"
"He's not going to answer you."
"Damn. He's dropped back down. Check his vitals again."
"Steady. Improving...rather rapidly."
Neville let out a sigh of relief and stepped around the bed to the open door. "Keep watch. I'm going to floo-call Hermione."
Astrid turned around in surprise, "What? Why?"
He nodded to Snape and replied, "That's her patronus. I want to know what she said to make it do that."
Astrid and Muriel exchanged wary looks as Neville left for his office.
Muriel spoke first, "I know what caused it, but I don't know if I should say."
"What? Well, you have to say, now."
She looked to the man lying unconscious before them, then back to Astrid, thinking over the ramifications of such a young girl sending such an emotion to this man. Her conscience swirled through her head as she debated revealing what she knew. It might not be received all that well... Then again, didn't this man need someone who needed him?
Muriel looked to Astrid again, took a shallow breath and stated, "She just...needed him. Desperately, I'd say."
/
Neville knelt to his fireplace and threw in the sparkling powder, calling out "Grimmauld Place!"
Sticking his head in as soon as the flames turned green, he called out, "Hermione? Hermione?"
Tonks came into view. "Wotcha, Neville."
"Hi, Tonks. I need to speak with Hermione, can you get her for me?"
He was surprised at the closed expression on her face when she replied, "She's not here."
Damn! "Well, do you know when she'll be back?"
A male voice called out, "We don't."
Remus stepped into view, looking rather less friendly than normal. "Remus," he said, acknowledging his former professor before continuing. "Do you know where I can find her?"
Another person came into view—Harry. "No, we don't, and if you do find her, tell her...tell her to contact us. Please."
Neville looked at the three of them, with their somber expressions and tight words. Understanding flushed through him, along with panic. Without Hermione, would Snape awaken? He really felt like he needed her to come in and complete whatever it was she'd sent her patronus to do. He shifted on his knees and glared at them all. "What have you done? Why isn't Hermione there?"
Harry's green eyes sparked in anger. "Well, I'd have thought she'd come running to her precious Snape. Why isn't she there with you?"
Tonks turned and snapped, "Harry!"
"What? That's all she's been able to think about for the past few days, putting all of us in danger for it."
Neville interrupted, "What do you mean, danger?"
Harry responded flippantly, "Nothing. You know what? Never mind telling her anything. We can handle everything on our own."
Neville narrowed his eyes, wondering if Harry would ever grow up, and then what had gotten his knickers all twisty. He looked to Remus and Tonks, finally asking, "What's going on? Does this have to do with Snape's trial?"
Looks passed between the three of them before Harry snorted in disgust. "No, it has to do with her getting Law Enforcement called down on Remus for being a Werewolf."
Remus turned to Harry, "That's not exactly true-"
"Close enough!"
"Oi! Shut it, I'm tired of hearing it!" Tonks yelled over them both and they snapped around to look at her, but she turned back to Neville, "They all had an argument while I was feeding Teddy and Hermione left, upset." Harry muttered under his breath, but she continued, "We're not sure where she went, but I think all of us," she sent a warning glance to her husband and Harry, who wouldn't meet her eyes. Then, when she was sure they weren't going to add in their two cents, continued, "Would like to make sure she's okay."
Neville and Tonks stared at each other for a moment. Just when he was about to speak again, someone came into view—Ah, Merlin, it was Ron. Neville gulped at the sight of him. Would he tell them all what went on at the Leaky?
"What's going on?" He looked around the three people standing in front of the fireplace, then down to the floo-caller. His face flushed as he stared at Neville, his expression entirely closed. Neville stared back for a moment, then looked back at Tonks.
"I'll let you know if I find her." Hastily retreating in a hurry to end the call, he reared up, knocking his head on the mantle, "Ow, bugger," then watched the green flames die out to ash.
Rubbing his head, he shifted up to a stand and made his way back to the HyPAC.
/
Ron looked a bit shocked to see Neville in the floo, but quickly turned around to look at Tonks. He asked again, "What's going on? What did he mean, 'if he finds her'? Where's Hermione?"
Harry snorted again and left the room, shaking his head.
"What's with him?"
Tonks and her husband watched Ron for a moment before Remus asked him, "Have you received anything from the MLE?"
The young man's face scrunched in confusion. "Me? No, but Hermione did when she was visiting Snape. Is that what this is all about? Is she upset? She'd said she was on her way here to check on you and see if you'd gotten anything."
Remus flushed at that. Tonks twisted her face in annoyance. Yeah, she figured. Stupid, stupid boys. She looked to Ron. "Yeah. Something like that. They argued and she left. Lots of door slamming. It took me the better part of the past hour to get Teddy and Walburga to stop screaming." Shaking her head in disgust, she left Remus and Ron to their own devices. "I'm going upstairs." She figured she'd need to look through the Foundation's records for any other addresses of Hermione's, starting with her parents.
/
The two men looked at each other, one in confusion, the other in resignation.
Ron spoke up, first, "I can't see Hermione leaving an argument like that. She'd normally just go off to the library or her room before coming back and yelling some more." He looked at the growing guilty expression on Remus' face. "Harry lost his temper, didn't he?"
Remus looked up in surprise, but came to his defense, "Well, he had a reason to be upset. They're looking to put me in Azkaban because of her little stunt yesterday."
The redhead reared back in surprise. "What? That doesn't—wait a minute. You told me this morning that it was Snape's accidental magic that caused the garden to explode. What did she do?"
"She went and violated the Statute of Secrecy, that's what she did! It wasn't good enough to get Snape to blow up Sirius' garden, oh no! She had to go and let him blow up a Muggle facility! And now I'm being taken to review for not having sheep!" Looking away from Ron, he expressed his agitation by pacing.
Ron blinked in further confusion, "Um...I'm sorry, but, what?"
He looked back at Ron in something close to condescension. "I'm supposed to have a sheep farm to hide on when the moon gets full. Since I was here on the days of the full moon, Amos has taken it into his head that he can dredge up this ridiculous, medieval law to get the last of the known Werewolves into custody." He resumed his pacing, "The man's been on a bloody rampage since the end of the war, trying to make up for losing his son."
Ron turned his head to follow Remus, "I still don't get how this has anything to do with Hermione leaving."
Remus looked sheepish. He paused and ran a hand through his hair. "Harry...got a bit upset."
"Yeah, I can see that."
The older man winced and continued, "Well, he got it into his head that I'm the last of his family-"
"What?! Oh, blimey!" Ron's voice was low and unsteady at first, but quickly gained in volume in his anger. How could Harry have said such a thing? "He didn't—She—Harry, what have you done!" Ron yelled out the last part into the house, then ran in the direction he'd last seen Harry go. Running up the stairs two at a time, he was glancing into the open library doors as he collided with Harry in the hallway.
He did not look pleased. "What are you doing, yelling at me like that?"
Then again, there was a hint of guilt in his expression. Ron went on the offensive before Harry decided it was everyone else's fault but his, "Did you tell Hermione she wasn't your family?"
His chin went high and he crossed his arms, "I guess I did, yeah."
Ron shook his head, "You stupid arse. You forgot what she did to her family to go with us back in Seventh Year, didn't you?"
A wary expression started climbing up Harry's face, but Ron could see it was clamped down for self-righteousness, "It's not my fault she Obliviated her family. She's never even gone after them."
Ron's mouth hung open in shock. Was he really that thick? Harry should know more than anyone that family wasn't always about blood! "And why do you think that is, you idiot! Who's she been helping all this time? Who's been her family since then?"
"Well—" Harry visibly fought through Ron's logic and as soon as his words sunk in, he could see him visibly pale. He looked down to the floor, then back to the stairs before answering, "We have."
Ron let him chew on that for a bit, waiting for Harry's chivalry to kick back in.
It didn't take long. With a half-spin, a partial step and back, Harry finally showed his normal compunction to instantly fix things. He looked back to his best friend in despair, "Oh, shit, Ron, what have I done?"
"Yeah." Took him long enough.
"We have to find her. Now."
"Yeah."
"I feel like such an arse."
"Yeah."
"You don't have to rub it in."
Ron sighed and scrubbed his face with his right hand. "Yeah, I do. I can't believe you did that, Harry. She'll probably never forgive you, now. You know that, right? We've been the most important thing in her life for years and you go and pull this crap."
"God." He started pacing in a small circle, glancing at Ron every few moments. "Oh, God." All at once, he stopped and stared at him, resignation and determination running over his features. "Remus said she might have gone to her parents' house. Maybe we can find her there."
Merlin's nightshirt! Ron sighed and shook his head at Harry, "Oh, this just keeps getting worse, doesn't it?"
"What?"
"She went to her parents' house."
"And?"
He stared at Harry as if he were an idiot. Honestly, had he been hit with a Confundus Charm, or something? "Would you want to be by yourself in your parents' house, all alone, called to trial, kicked out of your best friend's house and your boyfriend locked up in a nuthouse?"
Instantly a myriad of emotions flew over Harry's face as he took in what Ron was saying, running from regret to guilt to...well, he turned a little green, "No, I—oh, ew!"
"What, now?" What was he, a first year?
"You called Snape Hermione's boyfriend." Harry really looked like he was going to lose it on the runner carpet.
Ron sighed and rolled his eyes. "You're real mature, you are. After they've done what they've done, I imagine that's what they are, yeah." He gave absolutely no thought to what that might make him and Neville. Nope. None at all. It was not the same... Then again, how might Harry react to the news of Neville springing a kiss on Ron like that? He still didn't know all of how he felt about this afternoon, but he did know that it was his business and none of Harry's to like or dislike. It helped him put himself in Hermione's shoes, what with snogging Snape. Perhaps—
Harry interrupted his thought process with a weak protestation, "I don't think I want to know. No, I know I don't want to know." His eyes narrowed on Ron, "How can you be so calm about that?"
Ron looked at him with new eyes and thought about his response, thought about when Hermione refused his suit, about all the years they'd been the best of friends and how he just wanted to see her happy. Then he thought, again, about Neville's kiss at the Leaky and his long walk afterwards.
"I just...I think it's time we had some happy in our lives, that's all."
At that, he turned and started back down the stairs, leaving a quiet and confused Harry behind, standing in the hallway in front of the library doors.
/
Severus was swimming happily in the dark waters of his safe-place, staring up at the silver and gold trees as he floated on his back. It had been so long since he'd been here, relatively speaking, that he felt the long-awaited welcome of home. He breathed in the musty, earthy, wet air that reminded him so much of tranquility. Everything was imperfectly beautiful, here, just as nature should be. He closed his eyes for a moment and felt a breeze stir up. He opened his eyes again to see the bright yellow leaves surrounding the pond shake with its travel, loosening a few to twirl in the air down to the black water.
As the water sluiced across his skin, cool and comforting, he watched in amusement as a few of the leaves danced on a zephyr, somersaulting and careening above him as if for his own entertainment.
Soon, the light breeze picked up, blew stronger, spinning around his little wallow and rustling the leaves. He supposed he should be concerned for the change, but just as he thought about possibly being worried, his fairies came back.
Multicolored and transparent, they moved in an overlapping paperdoll cloud with the wind, laughter chiming all around like tiny bells and wood flutes.
These fairies were so...unique. So different. They called to him, dove at him, laughed as they flew and seemed so carefree. He longed to join them in their flight. How free they must feel! He smiled and thought that perhaps, in this safe place, he just might be able to fly with the mötly creatures. With that in mind, he swam to the small island in the middle and clambered up to the grass, up to the tree, up to the branches, and looked out.
He watched them fly around and around his safe place, with its barrier of birch trees standing sentinel. After a few turns, they veered off course, directly at him. He braced himself in the crux of two branches and waited for the onslaught.
As they reached him, they dispersed in a cloud of tinkling laughter, surrounding him in a fluttering tornado of color. They beat at him softly, with the impact of feathers or silk. He laughed, feeling slightly weightless, the feeling growing the more they spun around him.
In no time at all, he was with them, flying.
Feeling stronger and more in control than he'd done in years, perhaps decades, he pushed his flight to where he was leading the cloud of fairies. They chased after him with happiness and he led them around and around, spinning ever faster until he came around to them again. They all had a laugh as he tried to reach out to touch them...
And then he was drifting down. Downwards to the dark water and a giant leaf that looked to catch him. He landed gently in the leaf and felt it's leathery surface to be cool and comfortable. A smile fixed on his lips as he relaxed into his new watercraft and let it take him in more turns about his happy, safe place.
Peace overflowed him and he felt...more as he should be. He felt...whole. He looked over and saw the dead oak in the middle of the island, the one where all those eyes used to live and sparkle so brilliantly. It started to bloom. Impossibly, the oak tree began to bloom with large, exotic flowers in shades of blue, green and gold.
He watched in wonder and was about to attempt climbing out of his leaf-boat when the sound of rushing water caught his ears. Turning to the right, he saw something else new. A tributary had broken through the barrier of birches and was pulling the current with it. Before he could even attempt escape, he was pulled along, down a colonnade of gold and silver. It was actually quite the pleasant journey. The trees canopied above him and as he drifted, he could hear the call of small birds hidden amongst them.
After a few bends in the stream, the trees started to change.
He was more curious than concerned.
Cypress and oaks dripping with spanish moss festooned his passage, now. The call of birds changed to the creaking of cicadas and he could feel the water change temperature beneath him. It was no longer a pleasant cool, but nearly as warm as his body. The autumn smell of decaying leaves from back at his safe place was replaced with something spicy, something...his nostrils twitched as he tried to understand what he was smelling. It was rich, wet earth...it was an acrid spice of damp moss. There was something floral on the wind...jasmine or wild roses.
It intrigued him. Was this a part of his mind? If so, why had he never been here before?
With an interruptive flash, the leaf-boat transformed beneath him into a salt-glazed pottery bowl. He wondered at its ability to float, but then realized he was sitting on a bed of very warm, white, sparkling sand that looked curiously like sugar. He dropped his hand to touch it, feel it's unbelievable texture. Smooth and light, it didn't stick or scratch like he'd thought sugar would. It was a strange feeling, the soft, grainy warmth beneath his bum and the cold, smooth pottery at his back. As his craft followed the current, he found himself in the middle of an immense body of water surrounded by a swamp. Or, at least, what he could figure was a swamp. He'd been to a forest like the one in his safe place, but nothing like this. He'd never seen so many cypress trees in his life.
He looked around the area as the bowl began to spin slowly. It bobbed and wobbled as it hit a cypress knee here and there, but overall, he felt safe. Comfortable. The sugar beneath him was warm and the bowl started to warm from the swampy black water. Finally, he reached the center and looked up. The trees' canopy filled his vision but for one bright spot directly above him. The moon.
It was so bright and full, it reminded him of cold, wintery nights in Scotland. He gave a shiver and in response, amazingly, the moon wavered and began dropping warm sugar on him from above. He still hadn't figured out if it actually was sugar, but that was the closest description his mind could offer. It was light, glowing and brilliant. It was crystalline, but soft and caressing. It was so very warm...
He lifted a few granules to his mouth to taste it. Yes, slightly sweet, but not the sweetness he'd come to expect from sugar. Hmm. No matter. This was his mind, his sanctuary, right? If he wanted to give himself a sugar bath, then so be it.
He lay back and let it cascade over him, filling the bowl to his shoulders in warmth. He shifted to allow the moon's sugar to displace behind him and support his back. "Ahhhh."
Now this was comfort. He was completely suspended in warm, sugary sand and it, in turn, baked his bones and chased away all his bodily aches and pains. He groaned in pleasure and looked up as the moon shone brilliantly, once more.
He sat there in contentment for a while, until, at last, something caught his eye on shore and his gaze darted quickly to follow. Something silvery and slightly blue in the humid haze surrounding him shimmered like light through the thick vines and trees. One moment it was visible, then it blinked out...almost playing with his eyesight.
After a time, he noticed the light became more consistent, more solid. It also stayed within one location, where he focused with a slight bit of trepidation. Here he was, immersed and nearly buried in whatever it was that had poured from the moon and he was completely unable to move. He looked around. Well, at least he was out in the middle of the water and this water wasn't as easily swimmable as it was back in the golden bower. Cypress knees and water plants choked most of the water's surface.
Severus looked back up to the shore when the light stopped moving and the sight took his breath away.
There, surrounded, engulfed, enshrouded in patronus light, was Hermione...naked for his eyes to feast upon.
His mouth dropped open and he stared unabashedly at her soft, curvy form. She was, for lack of a better term – and he prided himself on his mastery of the English language – perfect. From her wild, springy curls caressing her defiantly squared shoulders, to her lush breasts peaking in the silvery mist dancing about her, to the dark triangle of hair hiding between her perfectly curved hips and legs...even down to her delicately turned ankles...she was perfectly beautiful to him.
The silvery mist swirled around her, lifting up to form a shape above her head, that of an otter. She smiled at it, encouraging it, and it did a spin before leaping into the air, sailing quick as light towards him.
He leaned back a bit, wondering at the impact of a patronus, but it stopped, perfectly still, in front of him. Standing on all four paws on the sugar in front of his chest, it leaned forward, nearly caressing him, and whispered with numerous, overlapping voices, "S-severus-s, I neeh-need youhhh".
With a thump from his heart, he blinked and realized the patronus had dissipated, leaving him a bit shocked. She needed him? Need was such a strong word...what if this was his own mind, telling him what he wanted instead of the truth? Immediately, he sought the shore where Hermione had been.
He looked again...where was she? Turning as much as the sugar would let him, he tried to look around and see if perhaps she'd walked along the shore.
Damn.
Well, it would have been nice to enjoy her company in his mind, even if he was hallucinating patronuses and women.
A splash lit the surface of dark water to his right, about ten meters out, and he spun his head to catch it. All he could see were ripples arcing outwardly between bits of wood. He scanned the water for any other disturbances and was quickly rewarded with another splash, and what looked like skin, breaking the surface closer to him.
His bowl moved.
Just a slight rocking, but it was enough to warn him. He desperately sought a way to pull out of the sugar and started slowly shifting against the weight of it.
A hand shot out of the water and grabbed the rim of his bowl. His heart was beating madly at the feeling of being caught while accosted, but...he knew that hand, didn't he?
Yes...Hermione. After the hand, came another, then her arms and her water-slicked and tangled hair.
He watched in amazed anticipation as her face turned up and he could finally see those eyes. Brown Eyes. She'd come for him.
The idea was immediately exciting.
He sat back in the sugar as she climbed over the rim of the bowl, strangely not tipping them over. As she reached the mound of sugar atop him, she settled on her hands and knees, much like her patronus had, and leaned into him. Her breasts hung beneath her and he wanted so badly to reach out and feel them. He felt the slight pressure of her weight through the sugar and looked up to her.
She leaned closer and their lips met in gentle dominance. She pressed in, from above him, and purred into his mouth. He gave over to her and wanted desperately to reach out and hold her luscious form to him, but the sugar...
The barrier between them melted away into a thick, gaseous...well, he couldn't tell if the lit mist between them was liquid or gas...or both. It felt like silk, like her lips, like warm happiness and he found he could reach her. She sank down amidst the silvery fog to straddle his legs, adjusting herself to sit slightly in front of his pulsing erection. They broke apart to smile and breathe, but he quickly pulled her soft body against his, reveling in the contrasting textures and lush curves. She reached up to kiss him again and he welcomed her mouth's slick heat, taking his time with finding just the right friction between teeth and tongues and lips.
She purred again, and he ventured to run his hands up over her back, then back down again to her buttocks. Would she let him...? Hell, this was his mind, he could do as he damned well pleased. With a growl of his own, he pulled her hips forward to meet the heat of his cock, then shifted her up to let it drop down beneath her. Sitting her back down, he rocked his hips forward and rubbed his hardness against her hot, wet core.
He broke his mouth away from hers in a passionate groan and looked down to her face. It was...it looked drugged. She looked like he was the finest, most expensive narcotic and she'd never be able to get enough. As he drank in that most beautiful expression, she rocked her hips and he nearly slipped into her wicked quim.
Their breathing increased exponentially and they stared deeply into each others eyes. She bit her lip, cocked her head, and twirled her hips again. He threw his head back as his sensitive tip dipped up into her. He pistoned upwards in reaction and found...unbelievable heat. Clenching his teeth and digging his fingers into her hips, he pistoned slowly up and up and up into her soft, tight quim, feeling it clench around him exquisitely.
She cried out and he looked at her. Her face was ashock with passion, her cheeks inflamed and her lips parted as she panted her emotions into the humid air. Hermione...Hermione... he had to say it aloud, "Hermione."
She responded in kind, "S-severus-s". She spoke in that far-off, overlapping voice of her patronus, "I neeh-need youhhhh."
He should have been shaken out of his desire at that, but somehow, it made his lust bake through his veins, carmelizing into his cock as it pressed higher, harder into her. She cried out again and dropped down to meet his thrusts. The tiny rim of muscles fluttered around him and held tightly as they separated, only to meet again, slow thrust after slow, agonizingly delicious thrust. Hermione pressed her face into his shoulder, turning her lips to his neck, and he turned his head to press against hers as she nibbled and licked in counterpoint to his rocking.
Lifting a hand, he pushed her hair out of the way and laved the shell of her ear, moving the other hand to cup a breast.
Oh, how lovely was that breast. It was plump and giving, silken and heavy in his palm. He rolled it slightly to get her nipple between his fingers, chuckling darkly at her mewl in pleasure when he rubbed the delicate tip up and down.
She increased the pace of their joining, apparently impatient and driven by his advances. He grabbed a fistful of her curls and pulled her face up to meet his in a hard, open kiss. He didn't care if their teeth clicked, he just wanted to taste her, breathe in her air, be with her as she fucked him in his mind.
With each thrust, he could feel electricity spike down his spine faster and faster in an attempt to close the current between them. Would they light up their little haven when he made her come? Stroking and climbing the peak of his passion, he kissed her harder, massaging her scalp with one hand and her breast with the other.
A slight keening breathed into a suction of silence as she scaled to reach her own climax, her eyes widening blindly. He drove harder and harder, watching the spark of her lust burn into a conflagration above him. It was heady to watch, to know he'd done this to her, but too soon, his own lightning crashed down through him, hurtling him to join her in bright, blinding release.
It was a sated moment then that he felt her flit away from him on the breeze. In sluggish alarm, he reached for her.
"S-severus-s, I neeh-need youhhh."
Her voice was all around him, above him, inside him and her patronus coalesced from moonbeams. They stared at each other for a moment, then the otter bounced once, twice, then jumped right into him.
With a shock, he awoke in a blank, gray room with glowing corners. Where the hell...what the hell...how? He looked around, marvelling briefly when the movement didn't cause him pain. Two women stood huddled against each other and staring at him as though he were about to jump up at eat them.
One looked up and he followed her, looking to the ceiling at a form at once familiar and unbelievable. Her patronus was here. It was looking at him with it's little otter face and twitched before swirling down to be level with him.
That previous encounter in what was apparently his mind made him wary enough to lean back.
It stopped just shy of touching him and delivered it's message: "Severus. I need you." At that, it dispersed, only to reform outside the door, waiting with an expectant look. The room's three occupants started at it in shock.
The women because he'd wager he'd been dead asleep and woke quickly, not to mention the strange behavior of a rare patronus. Him, well, he was left with a growing and eating urge to find Hermione. She needed him. Without a doubt, she was calling to him and something happened to join them in his mind. He stared at the patronus in suspicion, then in dawning realization that it could take him to her.
Eyeing both women and the patronus, he gingerly sat up and placed his feet on the ground. He surveyed his body and found that he felt more whole, more completely himself than he'd done in years. With a smirk to the healers, and a quick scan of his amazingly intact magic, he launched himself off the bed, into the hallway and out a nearby window in flight, Hermione's patronus gamboling about him like a puppy.
He glanced back at the damaged window and saw a man and the two women peeking out of it to find him somewhere on the pavement beneath. He smirked and followed his lead north and west.
Black smoke and silver twined and darted through the air like moonlight and bats. Severus watched the city spin by as the lights became more separate the further he traveled. It felt...free. Amazing. Fantastic to be flying again. He felt like his old self, again, only this time...
He smiled at the patronus darting off to a rather nice suburb and followed.
Only this time, he really was free. His mind flitted to the court case, the publicity of his return and couldn't much bring himself to care.
They neared a darkened house and the patronus shot off to hit the front door, finally and completely dispersing into the night. He landed in front of that door and wondered if he should just open it. Hmm. Perhaps Hermione wasn't aware of his pending arrival? It might be prudent to make her answer the door. With that decision, he rang the doorbell, a simple double-chime inherent in most homes, and waited.
/
Hermione woke with a start, vaguely remembering a very heated and delicious sex-dream. She ran her fingers over her face and looked to the clock on the mantle. It was getting late, perhaps she needed to just go to bed. Should she use her old room or her parent's bed? On second thought, it was too weird to use her parent's bed. Then again, she wasn't the little girl who liked to be surrounded by unicorns and fairies, anymore. Not now that she knew what they were really supposed to look like.
She sat up, slowly, and immediately felt the full wetness between her legs. Oh, wow, that must have been some dream! Perhaps it was what she needed after such a breakdown and her subconscious simply supplied it. She sat there, contemplating re-enacting parts that she could remember with her parent's large whirlpool and an active imagination, but was shocked into place as a loud 'whump' hit her door.
Standing up on shaky legs, she made her way partly across the living room before the doorbell rang.
She looked to the clock again and wondered who the hell would be arriving on her doorstep at ten o'clock at night?
Anger drove through her skull at the thought of Harry coming to beg her back. Well, he could just shove it, but it would be ever so much more satisfying to yell it in his face and slam the door. Assuming she'd be doing just that, she stalked over through the foyer, to the front door, and swung it wide.
Without looking, she snarled, "Harry, if you think you can just-"
"A-hem."
She blinked and looked... "Severus?" Her face must have been blazing, she was blushing so much. First at her mistaking his identity, then as memories of her previous dream came flooding back. And flood was right. Dear Lord, she'd have to change her knickers.
'Someone who makes your blood race every second you think about him.'
He smirked down at her and raised an eyebrow, "May I come in?"
Vague thoughts ran through her head of a vampire having to ask permission to come inside, but this was Severus. She shook herself out of her surprise and reached for his hand to pull him inside. Looking out into the street to see no one there, she closed the door swiftly and turned to drink in the sight of him.
"How are you here?"
His smirk grew into an adorable, lopsided grin, "Would you believe me if I said a little otter brought me?"
Her mind cast about blindly for what he meant until remembering her patronus from earlier. But how? Her patronus was never that strong...well, except it had been particularly bright this evening, hadn't it? She blinked a few times, trying to figure out the logistics. He couldn't have apparated with it...and there was no portkey, although that would explain the 'whump' noise she'd heard earlier.
She shook her head. "But how did you get here?"
He moved in closer to her, roving his eyes across her face. He was so close, she could breathe and touch him with her body. He smiled a small smile, tightening at the corners of his mouth, really. "Me?"
She nodded, noticing that he didn't look nearly as pale or skinny as he had earlier today. Had they given him something to rejuvenate him? His response brought her gaze back to his,
"I flew."
Well. Of course, he did. Why hadn't she thought of that? Good God, he flew? With no broom? She thought back and definitely didn't see one outside...
Then again, Minerva had told her about the Snape-shaped hole in one of the upper corridor windows.
The thought was fantastic enough to throw her off track for a bit. She took a deep, slow breath and thought again about what he'd said about the otter. Apparently, her patronus led him here? What an amazing sight that must have been!
Keeping her questions to herself as soon as she saw That Look in his eye – she must have looked like she was about to wave her hand in the air – she offered, "Can I get you anything?"
He seemed a bit taken aback by her abrupt change in subject, and stood silently, looming above her in the dark foyer. His hands came up to her elbows, then slid up her arms and across her shoulders to her neck, fitting her head between his hands neatly.
They stared at each other, just breathing in the moment. She shivered.
Slowly, he bent his head down to kiss her, gently at first until her body complied and melted against him. Then, to her happiness, he deepened the embrace into a harder, more demanding display of affection.
Just as she was ready to pull him into the living room and onto the sofa, he pulled back and tilted his head at her.
"Actually, there is one thing."
She waited, watching the difference between his velvety lips and midnight eyes.
He must have taken note of her fascination, for he tipped his forehead to hers and took a shaky breath. "I'd like a bath."
Her mouth opened in wonder, immediately thinking back to her dream and what she'd planned on doing to alleviate her body after that fantasy, but then practicality kicked in. He probably did want a real bath after years of charms and showers.
She smiled at him, noting his eyes followed her as she moved to pull him down the hallway and into her parent's bathroom. She let go of his hand to hastily pick up her discarded clothing from earlier and tump it into the hamper nearby, then turned to him.
"Well. Here we are. I'm...um." They stood there, looking at each other, and damned if she couldn't get a clear understanding of what his expression was. Did he mean for her to just show him the way? Maybe he just wanted some privacy.
Her confidence wavered and she beat a hasty retreat, "I'll just...be down the hall if you need me."
"Hmm."
She smiled briefly over her shoulder and practically ran from the bathroom. Oh God, she wanted him so badly! She heard the plumbing creak and water rush by through the wetwall as he turned on the faucet and her mind drifted again to her dream. He was in the middle of a dark pond, sitting in a white, round boat or something and looked as if he hadn't a care in the world.
She wanted that for him. She wanted even more from him, but even with this morning, she couldn't be sure he wanted to move that quickly. Standing in the hallway and listening to him splash into the tub wasn't helping, either. She debated whether to go make herself some coffee or just sit down and attempt to get lost in the television, when both of the doors between him and her suddenly flew open.
She looked over in surprise and heard him call out, "Hermione?"
Her heart sped up and she leaned on the wall for a bit, thinking about seeing his naked body.
"Hermione? Could you come here, please?"
One foot betrayed her, then another, as she slowly made her way towards the open bathroom door. Steeling herself, she stepped just inside the bedroom and called back to him, "What is it?"
There was a pause, then in a rather amused tone of voice, he responded, "Come here."
Some small part of her that was still a student that would respond immediately to the authoritative teacher moved without a thought and stepped round the corner, into the beige-tiled bathroom. "Yes?"
He really was naked and Oh, Lord and Lady, he was completely, beautifully nude.
He held out a hand cloth, dripping wet from his bath and sat up a bit so she could see the water running down his chest, making small rivulets between his chest hairs. She stared at his nipples. Why was she staring at his nipples? They were brown, like old pennies. She wanted to lick them. Would they taste coppery?
"Hermione?"
"Yes?"
He held out the cloth again, this time with a broad, sexy smirk. "Wash my back. Please."
Her knees threatened to melt away at his request. Even further, at that smirk directed at her. Oh, she was in such trouble...
(To be continued!)