XX - Conatus

* Conatus - Endeavor, Attempt, Effort… *

"What will you do when you no longer have me to sort out your problems?" Severus scowled at the woman sitting across from him. Her eyes flashed her amusement as she cocked a silvered eyebrow.

"I suppose I shall find out in one hundred years, now tell me what to do," he hissed, he hadn't so much as sipped his whiskey. Instead the delicate glass tumbler dangled from his fingertips over the edge of his chair. The slender digits clasped the rim from above with delicacy.

"You told her that you were going to push her off on someone else, what makes you think there is even a chance she will forgive you?" That silver eyebrow rose and Severus sneered at his longtime friend. "You can't tell me you failed to realize what you were implying when you told her this," Rolanda watched him impetuously, only serving to further his irritation with her, with himself.

Hermione hadn't spoken to him for a week, no matter what he did. She spent all of her time locked away with her friends, Potter and Weasley, or Draco in the chambers she'd once shared with him. Now she seemed as a ghost.

She was never there. He couldn't be certain what she was passing off the fits as, or if she simply hid herself away when she felt one coming, but she must be suffering. The seemingly permanent knot in his throat tightened, she wouldn't speak to him, barely spared him a glance, didn't answer questions or speak in class. Upon consulting her other professors, they were seeing much the same behavior in her other classes, behavior that made him concerned.

Him. Concerned. It was ridiculous, but it was true.

"She thought I was going to hand her over to a death eater, someone terrible, perhaps even the Dark Lord himself," Rolanda nodded and motioned to his tumbler.

"Drink, you're going to need a bit of liquid motivation to hear what I'm going to say and then do it," he pressed the cold rim of the tumbler to thin lips and drank the entirety of the shimmering liquid that so resembled her eyes in one go.

"What do I need to do?"

"Try, Severus, you're going to need to give the girl some effort to earn her forgiveness. You can start by telling her you were wrong and that you would never hand her over to someone evil. I have no doubt the girl will make you work for it, Gryffindors are notoriously stubborn headed," Severus snorted a short, derisive laugh. It was true, Gryffindors were as stubborn headed as they came, and Hermione Granger was all Gryffindor.

SSHG

A gasp of surprise broke from Hermione's lips despite her effort to restrain it as the door to the ingredients closet closed and she was thrust into darkness.

Her potions class had just ended and she had waited until all of the other students were done packing away her things before she moved to return her ingredients, sending Harry and Ron on their way to lunch as she ducked into the familiar, small cupboard. She knew he was there, behind her, standing in front of the door and holding her there.

She'd been avoiding him for the better part of the week and she was weak and exhausted from her time spent not sleeping, the fits had gotten more frequent, and painful.

"Hermione," his voice trailed, and she settled the jar she'd been holding on the shelf in front of her. Her forehead pressed into the cool wood of the shelf just in front of it and she exhaled a sigh.

"I thought I was clear," her voice cracked despite herself. He was closer now, she could feel the warmth that he seemed to radiate, no matter how cold it may be in the dungeons, on her back. "I've rescinded the invitation to call me by my given name."

She moved to turn but he stopped her by catching her hands in his and pressing them into the shelf that her forehead had been resting on. His fingers wove between her own and she could feel his breath breezing across the top of her head.

"Listen to me," his voice was low, demanding. Hermione paused, her breath halting in her chest. "I was wrong, witch, is that what you wish to hear?" his breath was falling across her ear now, his chin pressing into her shoulder as he stooped around her. He held her hands still, his fingers twined with hers. He kept his body a suitable distance from hers, but he might as well have been on top of her for how it felt.

"Is that what you believe I wish to hear?" came her hoarse response, her voice had been lost the night before, she was lucky it cooperated now.

"I will ruin your life, girl, certainly you can understand that? I will tangle you in a web of my own creation, the web I have trapped myself in and you will be fodder for the larger spiders at my side," he paused and she couldn't be certain, but she thought he may be breathing in the smell of her hair. His breaths were deep, almost sensual in the way he drew them out. "I would never give you to another, could never allow someone else to bring you comfort."

His forehead was on her shoulder now, his fingers still clinging to hers.

"Anyone dark enough to ease the pain would not provide me comfort, Professor," he groaned.

"Severus, to you I am Severus, always."

"Except when you wish to push me away," she bit back, her mind was reeling, racing, and in utter turmoil as he held her there. Trapped as she was between his body and the shelf she could smell the strong scents that wafted from him. Wood smoke, a hint of whiskey on his breath, the spice of herbs and musk of potions.

"How shall I prove to you I am truly remorseful, that I have no desire to pass you off to another? I am a selfish man, Hermione, and you have been in my grasp for far too long to be released now. My little dove," the last was a soft whisper, his mouth caressed the words and made a chill race down her spine, little prickles of gooseflesh rose on the back of her neck and arms.

"Show me, show me how much remorse you feel," her voice was challenging despite her skittering nerves and he raised his head, returning his chin to her shoulder.

"Resume your place in our bed, in my chambers, and I will do all I can to show you in all the ways I know," silk strands of black hair tickled the side of her face and she turned her head slightly. Their breaths mingled, and she found herself breathing in his air, it dizzied her slightly. "May I begin by providing you the comfort you have denied yourself?"

She could only nod as his fingers left hers and smoothed the length of her arms to wrap around her and he pulled her back into his chest. He was warm, and she could feel the soothing affect his magic had on her curse almost immediately. She breathed a sigh of relief and let her eyes close for a long moment.

"There's a girl, everything will be well, little dove, I assure you."

SSHG

Severus hadn't meant to all but assault the girl. Really, he hadn't, but seeing his opportunity to catch her alone, to speak with her in private he'd been unable to resist.

His intention had never been to put his hands on her, to let himself press so close to her. Still, her small form in his arms felt so right, the way she pressed against his chest. The soft breaths as she slipped into what he hoped was the sense of comfort that he felt when he pulled her to him.

He knew it for what it was, a moment of weakness on both their parts and still he didn't want to break the contact. He couldn't imagine releasing her, not yet, not when they were hidden away in the privacy of his storage cupboard.

"I need to go to lunch, the boys will be looking for me," she finally whispered after several minutes spent standing there, holding her. He knew she was right, that their time was drawing to a close.

"I will see you this evening?" He lingered close to the side of her face, still unwilling to release her from his arms until he had confirmation, confirmation that he was, if not forgiven, at least on the path to forgiveness.

"I will come directly after dinner," she confirmed, and he knew then he was moving in the right direction. She was giving him a chance. It was all he needed.

The knot in his throat finally loosened as he released her and took a step back. She didn't turn to face him and he thought it appropriate. He had no desire to look into her eyes, to see if she held even a shred of doubt in him.

He left without another word, vanishing into his office before she could find her way out of the cupboard.