AN: FINALLY! I was having a lot of trouble for this chapter because of reasons. I was really struggling because I wasn't sure exactly what I wanted to do: jump straight to the trial scene or do a bunch of character development. So, read on and you'll see what I ended up deciding. BE AWARE: We are jumping foraward in time. There are also some flashback scenes which I hope will provide some clarity as well as insight in their developing relationship. I hope that this chapter lives up to expectations. :) Here you go, folks! Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money. Don't sue.
Chapter 29: Preparations, Recollections
Severus woke slowly, his brow creasing with the last vestiges of sleep as his mind and body became aware of his surroundings. There was a warmth against him that made him want to sigh and roll over, rushing back to sleep once more, and his nose felt tickled by something he could not name at first. And then it came to him…Hermione.
Cracking one eye open, he surveyed his bed with a bleary eye. And for the life of him, Severus could not stop the slow, smooth smile that began to creep over his face in that moment. Nothing, not even the Dark Lord reincarnate pointing the elder wand straight at his nose could have ruined the sight for him as the surge of hope and joy bubbled to the surface and threatened to make him do very un-Snape like things. Like whistle. Or hum. Or perhaps even dance…Severus rolled his eyes at this thought. He thought of Lucius Malfoy and chuckled lowly to himself at the blonde man's expression should Severus ever care to share these personal feelings. Malfoy Sr. would probably faint at the mere thought of his old friend capering around a drawing room in dancing shoes. Dragon hide, of course.
He pried his other eye open, his dark black stare encompassing the sleeping witch at his side and he took a moment to admire her features in sleep-so peaceful and void of frustration, stress, or the near constant worry that had marred her features as of late. He sighed and hitched his shoulders to place one arm slowly and tentatively around her waist, enjoying the feeling of her soft, pliant flesh beneath his fingers…beneath the cotton material of her long nightgown. It had been a rough two months.
Following their lengthy recovery, once Severus had politely…well, as polite as he ever was…assured his colleagues that all was well and to 'bugger off if you please", Severus had begun to work on three new projects that had taken nearly all of his time and effort the past eight weeks.
The first was the not so pleasant up-coming trial of Bellatrix LeStrange, Antonin Dolohov, and Augustus Rookwood. There had been, what seemed to him, an un-godly amount of paperwork, interviews, medical examinations, and a multitude of other inconvenient and annoying details to be had. Hermione had taken it upon herself to dive headfirst into the legal aspects, and he'd supported her wholeheartedly, though he was constantly concerned that she was doing too much. She would pour over tome after tome of Wizarding Law, making sure they had an airtight case. It mattered not how many times he assured her that Harry, Kingsley and Ronald would handle that aspect of the trial. Hermione thrived on research. So, he indulged her, making sure that she didn't forget to eat, forcing her to take breaks when the circles under her eyes made him sick inside with worry.
"Here, for goodness sake, Hermione. You've left the bloody kettle on again!" Came his disgruntled shout from the kitchen. He came sauntering in with two tea cups filled to the brim with tea long since gone cold, the biscuits from his cupboard still sitting innocently on the side. "Hermione, you've got to take a break, a real break. You're going to burn the entire castle down if you don't get that nose of yours out of the book whilst you make tea. I don't fancy explaining that one to the board of governors, if you please.
Hermione had jerked her head up from where it had been bent low over Leagues of Legalization-The Wizengambet Past and Present by Bilophenes Dugg and clapped a hand to her face, rubbing furiously. Her eyes felt glazed over and she didn't think she could read another word of the gobble-de-gook within the yellowed pages. "Oh, I'm sorry," she moaned, shaking her head and shutting her book. "I'm just so worked up over this. I don't exactly want to go through with facing all three of them again. But," she looked resolute, "I'll never forgive myself if I don't give them hell." She sighed softly as Severus placed his hands on her shoulders and gently began kneading her sore muscles. "Mmmm, that feels nice, thanks." She jerked for a moment, turning and looking up at him, and she suddenly looked quite young and afraid. "Will we win, do you think?"
Severus stopped his ministrations and grasped her hands. "Yes Hermione. Worry not. Those bastards are going to get what they deserve."
"And Bellatrix as well," Hermione said decisively.
Severus had smirked and rolled his eyes. "My brave little witch," he murmured, and her work begun again.
The second, slightly less odious task-that had been slow going so far-was the further research and aid he was giving Hermione on her Potion. He'd acquired more bloodroot for her through a reputable potions supplier, and they'd begun to work from scratch. Hermione was working off memory now-her notes and research had been destroyed by Bellatrix at some point after the acquisition. They'd run into a few roadblocks so far, and it had been frustrating for Hermione. Severus, however, had been pleased to realize he quite enjoyed working with the formidable witch. She was an incredible potions mistress, and he was proud of her. She amazed him in some new way every day, and he relished the times when they would simply sit over a cup of tea and talk theory. Never in his whole adult life had he met someone with whom he could enjoyably talk shop. Albus had never been one for potions, preferring the Dark Arts, and Minerva was a Transfiguration Mistress, finding little to interest her in the way of potions.
Thirdly, and most enjoyable, was the woman that was currently sleeping at his side. The last two months with her had been…indescribable. Enlightening, wonderful, beautiful, and terribly frightening for him. He was so out of his element. But Hermione, bold Gryffindor that she was, helped him grow more comfortable with the idea of a relationship every day, reminding him in little ways that he meant something to her. In turn, he was helping to show her that love-physical love-was something precious and special. Much more that what she'd so dishearteningly known in the past. There was no violence, only gentle touches and brief, tentative caresses. There were no sudden movements or crass groping hands, only movements so slow that Severus thought the two of them would burn down that castle with some sort of magical spontaneous combustion.
All of that led up to the present moment, in his bed. Hermione was the warm and supple presence next to him, her smooth legs entangling with his own, furred ones, her night dress caught up around her knees. Her short, tousled spirals of hair were the irritation against his nose this morning, and he inhaled her delicate and pure scent. It reminded him of spring, and out doors-a beautiful garden.
If asked, Severus would not be able to tell the exact date they began sleeping together in the same bed. Their physical intimacy had simply progressed from deep, passionate kisses on the couch…to the edge of the bed. Caressing a bared shoulder on the couch…to the bed. Unbuttoning just…one…more…button on the couch…to the bed. And one night, they'd just laid down in bed after a late supper. And that night, they'd fallen asleep. When they'd awakened the next day almost at exactly the same time, they'd just lain there unmoving for a few minutes, black eyes boring into brown ones before she scooted her way up and ruffled her hair gently, untangling a few swirls that had kinked up in the night. They'd fallen asleep fully clothed and Severus knew that his frock coat and trousers were probably a mass of wrinkles. But he'd not been concerned about that. He closed his eyes briefly as he remembered that encounter…
He was just letting his brain begin to comprehend the unbelievable fact that he was waking up in her arms…her incredibly warm arms, his body molding and moving against hers…when he heard her gasp. Becoming more wakeful, he immediately realized what her reaction was about. With blood working its way rapidly up into his cheeks 'better there than where it was before' he reasoned, he pulled away from her gently and sat up, strategically placing a pillow on his lap, his face burning in embarrassment. 'Oh how fucking fabulous, Severus. There is a beautiful, kind, and wonderful witch in your bed. YOUR bed for the very first time and you wake up and practically bore a hole into her with your morning hard-on? Well aren't you just mister subtle.' While his brain had been busy mentally berating his manhood, Hermione's face had taken on a determined look usually reserved for tackling a tough potion ingredient. Other than the small gasp of surprise she had not moved, and he was taken aback when she suddenly sat herself up and faced him. He was sitting in only his trousers and shirt-sleeves, the collar un-done only two buttons, and he was immediately aware of her facing him, bodily taking him in from follicle to foot, then back to his face to look him in the eye again. She'd smiled at him shyly before reaching down and removing the pillow from his lap, and he hissed when her burning eyes stared down at the physical evidence of his desire for her. He could no more hide it than he could hide the nose on his face, and he moved his hands back to the pillow, attempting to tug it back over his lap. She nearly shocked him out of his pants when she said:
"Severus, stop." It was a simple request, and even in his embarrassed state, he thought he could certainly comply with something so benign. His hands had stilled and he gulped when her nimble fingers than snatched the pillow out of his grasp and tossed it off to the side somewhere. His adam's apple bobbed. What would she think of him now? Would she fancy him a lecher? He'd practically been humping her in his sleep. But as ever, his witch surprised him.
"I..I want to see. I…I don't mind, you know. It's actually…awfully encouraging," she grinned and looked at him tentatively, her bravado from before faltering only a little. "I know I'm not an experienced seductress, Severus, but I know what it means when a man wants a woman. And I also know that, biologically speaking, waking up like this is somewhat normal, yes?" Severus stared at her dumbly and nodded. "Well, then," she said, "don't be such a goose. I was quite comfortable before," she yawned and faked a wide stretch of her arms before settling back down into the mattress, transfiguring her robes into a long, white cotton gown that covered her from neck to ankle and looked up at him with those wide, inviting brown eyes.
Severus had stared at her incredulously before reaching for his own wand. He stoked the low-burning fire in the grate, transfigured his own robes into some semblance of sleep pants and shirt, (transfiguration had never been his forte,) and moved once more to embrace her delicately in his arms, this time being as circumspect as possible when sidling up against her. He quirked an eyebrow at her and smirked.
"Not an experienced seductress," he intoned? She laughed brightly and nuzzled her face into the crook of his arm.
"Definitely not."
"Could have fooled me, witch."
And then he'd drifted off to sleep again, her light, airy laughter tinkling in his subconscious for the rest of his unwakeful state.
Yes, he mused as the morning light shifted into his quarters through the small, gothic archway of the lone window in his bedroom. They had made some big strides in their relationship. But no matter how many bridges they'd crossed, there was still one physical hurdle yet to be jumped. Severus was well aware that Hermione wanted to consummate their relationship. He was proud of her and how comfortable with his advances she had become. And, if he could say so for himself, he was quite proud of the restraint he'd showed. No matter how much his body was telling him to progress, to move just a bit faster, there was the other part of him that insisted on his being careful with her. He had no desire to frighten her, and there were some situation which seemed to still cause her discomfort.
Just then, the shift in her breathing made him aware that she was beginning to wake, and he tenderly reached out and stroked a long finger across her forehead and down her pert nose which wrinkled at the intrusion. Suddenly her eyes fluttered then opened and she greeted him with that wonderful smile of hers, the one that never failed to render him incapable of denying her anything she asked of him. But she didn't ask for a thing. She just grinned like the cheshire cat and stretched languidly in his arms.
"Morning," she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep. He bent his head low and captured her lips with his own and she smiled into his kiss.
"Good morning," he returned, his voice deeper than usual. It always was when he first awoke, and it usually took him a cup or two of strong tea before he sounded like his usual self. "Breakfast?" he inquired.
"Mmmm hmmm. Definitely," she said pushing herself into a sitting position and running a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. "Don't forget that Harry and Ron are coming over today to go over that paperwork for the trial tomorrow," and he saw her brow furrow at the mention of the upcoming ordeal. She limped out of the bedroom and out of his sight. It bothered him to watch her walk now-her once graceful gate hindered by the injury that would never be quite right. Her leg had been magically repaired, the bones re-grown, the swelling reduced. But she was left with scar tissue in her hip bone that would never be fixed, and it pained him to see the limp even after the months that had passed. It only served as a reminder of what they were still fighting for, and he realized that it would all come to a head on the morrow at the Ministry. He hoped Potter and Weasley had all their bases covered.
He sighed and moved from his comfortable spot, reaching for his bathrobe. He padded along after her into the kitchen where she had already put the kettle on, the bubbling of water the only sound in the room. "You will gnaw the skin right off that lip of yours if you keep at it, you know," he said mildly, his dark eyes appraising her. She instantly retracted her teeth and glared at him in mock annoyance.
"Pardon me for worrying," she quipped, taking the whistling kettle off the burner. She poured two cups of tea in silence and placed them on the table. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. I feel a bit on edge about this whole thing."
"Perhaps the hapless heros can assuage your nerves," he queried?
Hermione rolled her eyes at him and nearly snorted a mouthful of tea. "Very funny. I'm sure they've done their job accordingly. It's not like we're still in school with them asking me for help on three feet of parchment from a certain potions master I know." Then it was Severus' turn to roll his eyes.
"Really? You mean to say that you helped those to paragons of procrastination? No surprise there."
"Well, they were my friends…are my friends. We've been through a lot."
Severus grew sober. "More than was ever necessary. I only wish…"
"Severus, don't," Hermione implored, reaching out her hand and grasping his in her strong grip. "You cannot change what happened, but it was all for the good anyway. My life certainly did not go the way I planned, but if it had gone any other way, perhaps we wouldn't have ever grown so close. I would never change what we have now, even if it did come about due to some terrible things." Severus looked at her pensively, his frown morphing into a semblance of a gentle smile, though it was always hard to tell with him. He stroked her fingers with his own. "How is it you always know what to say? How is it you never seem bitter over all that you've seen, all that you've been subjected to?"
Hermione sighed softly and rose from her seat. "There isn't any one reason, Severus. As a child I did what I had to do, but mostly I got by with pure nerve. I was doing so many things that were completely out of my scope, everything was foreign. Following Harry into the lap of Voldemort was just something I was meant to do, even if I didn't know why or how," her eyes were soft as she pulled him up from his chair and they moved to the couch in the sitting area of his quarters. They sat, and she pressed her body into him, his warmth felt comforting and safe. "I was young and brazen and thought that if I studied hard enough and long enough all of the answers would just come to me. In the end, perhaps it didn't serve me as well as I would have liked. The final showdown ended up being something that was fought on pure adrenaline and wit, not on logic and fact."
"The Dark Lord was far too insane at that point for logic to have any bearing on what happened that night. But you should never have had to go through with it…any of it." Hermione turned and cupped his cheek in her hand. "And neither should you. Severus…it wasn't all for naught. And neither will tomorrow. I'm worried about it, yes, but I'm confident that we will win. At least, that is what I hope. You will be there every moment, right? I don't want to do this alone."
"Of course I will be there. Every moment. I will not leave you to the wolves, Hermione."
She looked at him so gratefully that it nearly broke his heart. "Thank you. I love you." It always amazed him at how simply and easily she said those three words. How easy it was for her to give him a gift he'd never felt deserved of. He was still coming to terms with it. He smiled and responded.
"And I love you, Hermione. Very much." Her head moved toward his and their lips touched. She tasted of tea and spices, and he felt as if he could drown in her. She was intoxicating. She sighed as their kiss deepened, her hands fisting in his bathrobe. The small groan that escaped his lips was swallowed by her kiss when all at once there was a knock at the door.
He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes as he separated himself for her. "Oh, what perfect timing," he groused as he made his way to the door, wrapping his robe more tightly around his body, ignoring the giggling witch on the couch. He threw the door open and glared at Messeurs Potter and Weasley and barked an annoyed: "What?"
Harry raised his eyebrows and Ron scoffed as he barged in. "No need to be touchy, Snape. We're here on Ministry business, as you know." Ron smirked at Hermione who was doing her very best not to laugh outright. It was Harry that noticed Hermione and Severus' obvious state of undress.
"I hope we haven't interrupted something," he said, fighting a smirk. Severus rolled his eyes and huffed summoning two extra chairs into a semblance of a circular formation in his sitting room.
"Certainly not, Potter. Hermione and I absolutely delight in having visitors at half seven in the morning. I woke up especially early to bake some scones and hand churn butter for you."
"Severus, don't be rude!" Hermione exclaimed. He rose an eyebrow pointedly at her and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry Harry,but we've only just woken up. It seems breakfast took us longer than we thought…wait, why are you so early?"
"Sorry 'bout that, Mione," Ron said, "We actually didn't even realize the time. We've been up all night running a few last minute things by Kingsley and we had to re-work some of the finer details. It's all here," he said patting the bulging briefcase at his side and hoisted it on the coffee table with a thunk. Harry sat and opened his own hefty satchel and looked at the three other people in the room.
"Right, ready to get started?"
And the work commenced.
TBC
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