AN: AH. This next chapter is a bit... intense. I won't say more about it, because that would ruin it, but I've been slaving over it for hours to get it just right. I hope I did.

Now if you'll excuse me, Love Actually is on and it has our favourite actor in it. Squee.

Chapter 35: Wednesday noon

"Severus?"

"Hrm?" he grunted, holding her close in his lap. One thing had led to another and his briefs now lay abandoned on the floor. He had wrapped the dressing gown over her like a blanket to keep both of them warm.

"I'm scared."

"Of me?"

Merlin. Had he really scared her that much when he'd been angry with her? Was it the fact that he was a death eater in a past life? Was it everything he'd done to her while she was his student? Was it the stories of his year as headmaster? He had been cruel, nasty, horrible. Of course she was scared.

"No. Not of you. You're a good man, Severus. Everything the students see in you is true. It's real."

"It's romanticised poppycock."

"No, it isn't. Ginny told me that, in hindsight, you did everything you could for them. Detention with Hagrid who would keep them safe? Cleaning the kitchens so they could eat? Helping in the infirmary so that Madame Pomfrey could heal them? Your actions don't lie, Severus."

He kept silent. He didn't like to hear about his so-called good deeds. He'd never felt like the hero that the papers had made him out to be. How could he when so many had gotten injured or killed. He could've done more. He should've done more.

"I'm not scared of you, Severus. I'm scared of this. Of what's happening. I've never felt like this."

"Like what?"

"I could just sit here all day. I've never- I've never wanted that. I've never been able to linger. I always wanted to just- just go, really. There were always things to do. Things to get on with. I couldn't just... be, you know? Not worry about anything and just enjoy the moment. With you, it's different. I could quite happily just cuddle and want nothing else. Just get lost in you. Forever. It's... terrifying."

If his heart had been made of ice, she'd melted it with those words. Forever. He wanted that. He held her tightly and allowed the words to come up. He let them drift through his mind and they were straining to take charge of him. He thought them over and over again and like the beating of his molten heart they were a steady rhythm that resonated through him, became a part of him. He wouldn't speak, the words would burst out, so he just buried his face in her hair. He didn't want her to see him like this, so vulnerable, so completely and utterly hers.

"Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Tell me about Christmas."

"It's not a good story, pet."

"Tell me."

"My father. He was- not a nice man. Abusive. But it was part of my life. I was used to it. Then I got my Hogwarts letter and I... I didn't have to see him every day. I got... hopeful. Things were better. Even with the Marauders, I was... safer. But I was always made to come home for Christmas. To me, Christmas isn't a time of peace, Hermione. It's pain, and crushed hopes. I- I never attended parties, even later. Even now. I spend the day alone."

"Because you can't be hurt that way."

"Yes."

"I won't let you get hurt," she whispered and cradled his head against her shoulder. "Thank you for telling me, Severus."

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"I don't expect anyone to hear about this."

"Of course not. Just you and me." The words pounded, nudged and bumped, demanding to be spoken. I love you, Hermione. I love you. I love you.