Beneath the Surface
Chapter the Twenty-Fourthe: Freer
"What have you done to me?"
Hermione remained mute, her eyes begging the forgiveness for which she didn't know how to ask. How could he possibly have known?
Snape's own eyes never left hers for a second as he shut and locked the door behind him. Back in the hallway, he had suddenly been overcome by very vivid memories of his youthful self and Hermione Granger that he knew had not actually occurred in that time frame. These new 'memories' were now scrabbling to place themselves among his actual ones, and were having difficulty fitting properly. This unusual process made his brain feel, for lack of a better word, fried.
Luckily for him, however, this was the least that could happen when someone decided to mess around with your past self. Though he was profoundly relieved at that, he was immensely infuriated at the very thought of what could have happened to him had Hermione decided to stay longer or do something drastic (physically or mentally) to his person.
He stepped closer to her, his movements so slow and deliberate that he seemed to be floating across the floor. He planted his feet at a distance of about a foot from the prostrate Hermione; she had to crane her head backwards to keep eye contact with him, for he was now looming over her.
Though he still appeared deeply disappointed with her, the rancor that had previously imbued his body had dulled down to a cold, steely simmer.
"Explain yourself," he commanded, his voice toneless and devoid of inflection. The quiet before the storm.
"I..." Hermione's voice barely escaped from her throat, so she cleared it of the frog before going on. "I used the Time Turner to go back into your---"
"I know what you did!" Snape roared, causing Hermione to scrabble backwards a few paces in alarm; her back was now against the wall. "What I want to know is why you did it."
Hermione only looked up at him bleakly, knowing that no answer she could give him would make him forgive her, knowing that she did not deserve his forgiveness anyway. His face was wreathed in shadows, all sharp angles and glittering eyes. She gulped down a shuddering breath.
She found that she was genuinely afraid of him, and the realization intensified the feeling because she had never been frightened of another human being before in her life. She wrapped her scrawny arms around her drawn up knees and shrank back against the wall, wide eyes sparkling in the dimly lit room.
Severus' mind was torn in two at the haunting sight Hermione presented to him: a part of him reveled in her obvious fear of him—he could all but smell it in the air surrounding them!—and was just desperate to sample it, to violently take it into his own body and thus conquer hers; the second part of him, the redeemed, penitent and righteous one, was so ashamed of the devious desires that had first struck him that he wanted to run from the room and never look back at Hermione Granger again.
What to do, what to do? Severus sighed raggedly, rolling his eyes heavenward as if he were praying for guidance. Bathed in the muted, golden glow of the reading room, his appearance was reminiscent of a troubled Saint in an ancient Byzantine rendering. Though the affects Hermione's romp in his past had wreaked upon his mind were ebbing away, his thought processes were still a bit frazzled.
A wave of guilt flowed through Hermione, leaving her feeling sick and empty; her foolish actions had brought him to this, and she deserved whatever she got. She closed her eyes and awaited his judgment.
'I should hex her, I should physically throttle her! Such would be no less than what this errant child deserves,' he thought vehemently. 'But... for some reason, I just... can't. For some reason, I understand why she would do that. For some reason, I have gone inexplicably soft.' He squeezed his eyes shut in a moment of agony, hoping that this was yet another affect of Hermione's time-traveling. He sighed and turned to face the prostrate girl.
"I know that you know that what you have done was selfish and incredibly wrong, and there are no words I could say to you that would be worse than what you are undoubtedly saying to yourself right now," Severus stated in a calm and measured voice. Each word caused Hermione's face to contort into an expression of further and further disbelief. He went on, his head turned so that he could not see her.
"So I will allow you time to compose yourself before telling me just why you did what you did."
Hermione was completely taken aback by his words; she'd done a very bad thing, she deserved, needed, to be disciplined for it!
True, she had never been what one would call a 'problem child', but like any other child, she had misbehaved from time to time. Her parents would respond to her naughtiness with vague reprimands, which was quite contrary to the screaming and crying scenes other children her age engaged in with their parents. Sometimes they would even be struck! Her mother and father rarely even embraced her, let alone raise a hand to her in anger.
Over the years, she had developed a deep-seated curiosity about this mysterious thing called 'punishment', and, though she would deny it to her last breath, she wanted to experience it herself.
In summation, Hermione Granger had done a VERY bad thing here. Why was Professor Snape going so easy on her?
"Sir," she began softly, rising with caution from her spot on the floor. "Aren't you going to punish me for what I did?"
'Did she have to use that particular phrase?' Severus cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Erm, no, Miss Granger, I am not."
"... Well, why not?!"
Severus met her eyes, shock evident in his own. The girl seemed quite upset that he was letting her off the hook. What was wrong with this child?!
"Hermione, I believe that you have some rather deep-seated psychological problems which I don't think I am prepared or trained to address," he declared dryly.
Hermione emitted a wounded gasp, then pressed her lips together so to suppress any further verbal indignation. He'd just called her by her first name. Despite the biting insult, that suggested that he had at least marginally forgiven her, and wished to remain on friendly terms. She sighed in relief, so loudly that Snape had to suppress an amused smirk at her expense.
At last relaxing his posture, he turned and strode purposefully to his accustomed chair and gracefully collapsed into it. He sighed again and primly arranged his robes about himself, shifting minutely for several moments until he was comfortable. Once settled, he faced Hermione and met her eyes, knowing instantly that she had been watching this entire, ritualistic process by the mirthful gleam he saw within them. He returned her slight smile with a mocking sneer of his own.
They engaged in a rather intense staring contest for approximately half a minute before Severus gave up (remembering, once again, that he was the adult out of the two of them) and irritably indicated the seat beside him with an outstretched hand. Hermione eyed the hand warily, as if it might reach to strike her if she came any closer. Snape rolled his eyes.
"I've had enough of your foolish games, girl! If you don't sit down next to me this instant, I really will punish you!"
He blinked once and Hermione was in her seat when he reopened his eyes. She was having a bit of trouble keeping her composure, but she was within arm's reach and that had been his goal.
Now that he thought on it, perhaps the girl did deserve a bit of punishment for her transgressions. She had deliberately violated the constraints of time and space just to go back into his past and meddle around within it! Such a calculated offense merited chastisement. Perhaps he would just make her squirm a bit.
He rested his back against his chair and regarded her with the most sly, serpentine smile he could manage. The girl's eyes became perfect circles and she gulped audibly; Snape's smiled curled out wider.
"There's a good girl. I am of the opinion that people should sit facing one another when they are about to have a fair and equal dialogue," he drawled, his voice dripping with saccharine sweetness.
Hermione did not remove her eyes from his for a single moment, so distrustful of this undoubtedly false display was she. Unbeknownst to the girl, her suspicion of him was making Snape's little game all the more enjoyable. He chuckled softly to himself.
"Now," he began, drawing forward in his seat and interlacing his fingers together, his voice retaining that dark, syrupy quality. "About your little foray into my past: don't you have any questions for me?"
Hermione continued to stare at him silently, the twisting of her small hands into her robes and the erratic jiggling of her left leg betraying her discomfiture with this unorthodox situation. Snape tilted his head and clucked his tongue indulgently, as if he were dealing with an unwilling young child.
"No questions whatsoever? Well. I would think that someone as... hungry for knowledge as yourself would have at least one---"
"Professor, just what are you driving at?" Hermione interrupted him, her voice quiet, guarded.
"So now it's 'Professor' again? My dear Hermione," he moved forward intimately and gently took one of her hands, "I think we're well past formalities. Don't you?"
The last words were whispered, for he had continued to draw closer to the girl until their faces were barely an inch apart. He began to stroke her palm with his thumb, and inclined his head so that it was at just the right angle for him to kiss her. His finely tuned ears could hear her heart fluttering loudly in her chest, and he noted that her eyelids were becoming heavier as his amorous advances took effect over her senses.
But before he could abruptly pull away in order to completely confound the child, as had been his intention, Hermione's eyes suddenly snapped open, ice cold steel replacing the dreamy haze of seconds ago. She leapt up from her chair and glared down at him fiercely while she endeavored to catch her breath.
"How dare you play with my emotions like that, Severus!" she shouted at him, her voice thick with injury and her eyes welling with tears. "This is a far worse punishment than any I could have thought up! Making a girl who adores you putty in your hands just because you want some answers. It's despicable! No matter what I've done, I don't deserve to be treated like that, no one does! When you kissed me the first time, I thought it was because you truly wanted to, but now that I know you would do it just to manipulate me, maybe that time didn't mean anything to you either---"
Severus couldn't take it any more (not just her childish ramblings, but the accusations she was leveling at him); he grasped her arms with both hands and pulled the startled girl down into his lap. He didn't know if it was just to prove her wrong and clear his conscience or because he didn't want her to think his feelings for her were false, but he wasted no time in taking her face into both of his hands and pressing a strong kiss to her lips. He could tell by the way her response turned from hesitant to eager that her confidence in his feelings towards her had been restored.
Though she had been shell-shocked at first, Hermione soon began to return the ardent kiss as best she could, and squeezed her eyes shut. She was afraid that if she opened them again, he would stop, and she didn't know what would happen with them if he did. She lifted a tenuous hand and intertwined its fingers into his jet black tresses as she had dreamed so many times of doing. Her grip became stronger the longer the kiss went on, and the more she forgot herself.
After a moment or so had passed, Snape gently pulled his lips from hers, smoothing back her hair as he did so. He placed a hand over the one that was still entangled in his own hair and carefully removed it.
"That hurts," he explained softly, an amused smile playing about his lips.
Hermione blushed crimson and bowed her head. Was that why he had stopped? She licked her lips, cleaning them of their saliva as well as savoring the remnants of their kiss. Severus tipped her chin up with his fingers to face him, raising an eyebrow at her bashfulness.
"Should I not have done that?" he asked, a modicum of apprehension coloring both his tone and his expression. Hermione grinned, touched by his concern.
"No, I'm glad you did," she replied frankly, albeit shyly. She licked her lips again.
"Um... may we do it again?"
Severus' eyebrows shot up in surprise at her boldness, and he took this clear-headed moment to get a good look at her. He and his Third Year female student were locked up in a deserted room, and she was sitting on his lap, staring into his eyes dreamily after he had willingly kissed her. This just would not do, not at all.
He unceremoniously pushed her off of his lap, not apologizing when she fell to the floor with a wince and a thud. She glared up at him angrily, understanding that he had been overcome by yet another bout of his many attacks of conscience, but wishing he had treated her in a kinder and less painful fashion.
"I'll take that as a 'no'," Hermione grumbled, rubbing her right hip which was now very sore.
"Everything in moderation, Hermione," Snape advised dryly.
He had crossed one long leg over another so that she could not get back onto his lap, should she have the mind to, and folded his arms defensively across his chest. He was regarding her as if she were a physical danger to him. She rolled her eyes and smirked up at him, readjusting her skirt so that it covered her legs. He looked away.
She studied him from out of the corners of her eyes; he looked so elegant sitting that way, like he was from another age, a more refined and subtle time. Most would say he appeared imposing, but she would say... almost effeminate.
Effeminate! Her eyes widened in remembrance. That was what she had wanted to ask him about most of all! Something his younger self had said to her when she had been back in his time. After what they had just done, Snape couldn't be too furious with her if she asked him about it.
She hastily got up and set her hands firmly on her hips, glaring down at him with a mixture of superiority and amusement in her expression. Surprised, Snape looked back at her blankly, as if to ask 'yes'?
"Severus, I do have a question for you after all," she declared. "It's about something you said to me when I was back in your time."
Snape blinked sharply, the color in his face draining. He had been a very troubled young lad when he was her age. And he hadn't yet learned to hold his tongue.
"Yes?" he muttered, peering up at her almost fearfully. She smiled to reassure him that it wasn't as bad as he so obviously thought it was, but he remained skeptical.
"Well, it was right after I asked you to kiss me..." she trailed off, blushing at the memory as well as at his shocked expression. "Don't worry, you refused."
He appeared intensely relieved at this.
"Of course I did." Then he pursed his lips in mock disdain. "And I had thought only the boys had a one-track mind," he chided her sardonically. She attempted to scowl evilly at him, but the small smile twisting up the corners of her mouth ruined the effect.
"Yes, well," she continued, "As I was saying, you then gave me a reason for not wanting to kiss me."
His interest was piqued at this statement. "Did I?"
"Yes, you did. And it was... really quite something." She stopped smiling, rather anxious at what he would have to say to this. What if he verified the statement? That would make their 'relationship' completely null and void, at least on his side.
"Well, get on with it! What did I say?" he prodded her impatiently, rising to stand so that he could loom over her once more. He could barely contain his curiosity at this point.
"You told me you were gay!" she blurted, unable to hold back under the pressure he was putting on her to speak. "Well... you didn't use that exact word, but that's what you meant."
Snape stepped back from her, his face ashen yet emotionless as he ran through every one of the new memories Hermione had bestowed upon him, searching for this indiscretion on his part. When at last it surfaced, he closed his eyes, sighing bitterly.
He said nothing for a long time, leaving Hermione anxiously awaiting an answer that wasn't forthcoming.
"Um... you can tell me," she offered nervously. "It's alright."
Snape finally reopened his eyes, and when he did, they were focused directly into hers. Though taken aback at their intensity, she kept his gaze.
"Hermione," he began somberly. Her eyebrows rose of their own free will; she was desperate for him to continue. "When I was your age, I was a very confused young boy. I... didn't know what I wanted. Circumstances... led me to experiment sexually."
"What who? With WHAT?" Hermione blurted. Snape's eyebrow quirked in warning, and she stilled.
"That, my child, is none of your business," he said firmly.
"Ok..." Hermione conceded after she'd had a few seconds to calm down. She was perplexed, and had no experience with people who were gay or bisexual, but she prided herself on being an open-minded person. "So this means you're what now?"
"Well, I'm a wizard. Shouldn't that fact be rather obvious?" he asked her dryly. She rolled her eyes in impatience.
"You know what I mean, Severus." And she did, but she didn't believe that now was the time to worry about being politically correct.
"Of course I do," he replied teasingly. Hermione was obviously not finding this funny, however, so he heaved a weary sigh and decided to get right to the point.
"You see, Hermione, you had caught me at a rather awkward time when you decided to abuse the uses of your Time Turner." He shot a meaningful glance at her, and she ducked her head sheepishly. "To explain everything briefly---which is more than you deserve, I must say---I had come to the conclusion that all women were weak-minded creatures who dedicated their lives to pleasing men and ignored the desires of themselves and those of others who... needed them, and I wanted nothing to do with them. Yet I still had developed the same... physical desires that were only natural for a boy of that age to possess. So, to fulfill them, I turned away from the other girls at school and looked to the boys. The end," he said after a full moment of enduring the irritating feeling of the expectant eyes of Hermione boring into his profile.
"I see," she said quietly. She chewed off half of her right thumbnail before working up the nerve to ask him the one thing she wanted to know most of all. "Um... so... do you still dislike women, and are you just having this... thing with me because your inner child has decided that it wants to give girls a try?"
Snape choked so badly on his shock that he had to conjure up a glass of water and gulp down its contents to regain his breath.
"Miss Granger," he huffed, "that is not only the most disturbing thing that's ever come from your lips---which is really saying something---but it is completely untrue! I have long since gotten over my confusion towards women and have... been with quite a few more of them than I have with men over the years! NOT that it is ANY of your business!" He wondered for the umpteenth time just what was it about this girl that made him spill out his secrets without even thinking about it?
"I'm sorry, I was just wondering," she said in a small voice, bowing her head.
He realized that he must have been shouting at her, for she appeared to have shrunken into herself. He knew he could have that affect on people. At once recomposed, he went to kneel before her, clasping her small hands in his as he looked up into her down-turned face, searching for her eyes within that unwieldy mass of her hair.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you, Hermione, I didn't mean to." He was encouraged by her tiny nod and slight smile. "You had a right to ask me about that, despite the circumstances in which you found it out. Forgive me?"
"Of course I will!" And with a broad smile, she bent down and planted a loud kiss on his cheek. Severus blanched and immediately stood up, delicately letting go of her hands. He saw out of the corner of his eyes that her satisfied grin had not diminished in intensity.
Off in the distance, the bell that signaled the curfew for the First through Third Year students was ringing. Severus and Hermione's eyes met and they nodded at each other, acknowledging the fact that she had no choice but to go. Severus walked her to the door, hand hovering behind her back in a courteous gesture, and opened it for her departure.
"Severus?" she asked of a sudden, urgency in her eyes.
"Yes?"
"Do you, er, still like men at all today?"
Severus' jaw worked as he fought to bite his tongue; would she never learn not to pry into others' private affairs? Most likely not, he answered himself.
"From time to time, yes. But I must say that I largely prefer the ladies. Now, get out of here before you're late for curfew!" He commanded in a light tone before shutting the door in her face.
'At least he didn't slam it this time,' Hermione grumbled inwardly.
As she hastily made her way back to the Gryffindor Common Room, thoughts ran through her head of her Professor in his younger form with other boys of the same age, and, to her surprise but not to her disgust, the images were not entirely unwelcome.
'I'm just becoming stranger and stranger as time goes by. I wonder what I'll be like when I grow up,' she mused in a characteristically detached manner.
"And just where have you been?" Was the less than warm welcome she received from Ginny Weasley when she at last entered her quarters, close to ten minutes too late for curfew. Hermione bit back a smile and dismissed her friend's suspicious question with a wave of her hand.
"Just down in the library, figuring out a few things. I suppose the time got away from me."
"Mm-hmm," Ginny mumbled, intelligent enough to know that her friend was not only lying to her, but that she would not find out the truth from her by ordinary means.
She studied Hermione's every move in silence as she went about her nightly routine of getting ready for bed. There was something different about her movements, Ginny noticed. They weren't so stiff, so careful... for some reason, Hermione seemed freer.