A/N: Hi, HG/SS readers! This contains a bit of everything, including a lovely flashback that was a great deal of fun to write. I hope you enjoy it.
Many thanks to my wonderful beta reader, Brittny.
DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is copyrighted to and belongs to JK Rowling. I own none of her associated characters. New characters belong to me.
Chapter 36: Aftermath and Reflection
Hailey knew she had to get into that locked cabinet that contained all of her father's memories one way or another. He had not allowed her access since before break, and she was growing more anxious by the day. Once term resumed, she would request to see more, but if he said no, she would take matters into her own hands, even if it got her into trouble. Her nagging curiosity was killing her.
Hugo's fresh news about his parents' separation, however, brought that conversation to an abrupt halt. Hugo did not seem keen on elaborating further on the touchy subject, but he looked very hurt, nevertheless. Albus was too uncomfortable to say much, but he patted Hugo on the back, lending support in his own way as they sat together on the couch.
"I'm so sorry, Hugo," Hailey offered in her warm, kindhearted way. She took his hand and gave it a squeeze.
"Thanks," he mumbled, pouting a little. "I can't wait to return to Hogwarts, frankly. My mum is a mess, and my dad doesn't talk."
"Maybe you can come stay with us over the holiday, mate?"
Albus searched for his parents, who were on the other side of the room with his grandparents, mother, and Uncle Severus. Judging by their intense expressions, Albus decided he would wait until later to ask.
"Really?"
Hugo turned to his friend, so excited that it tugged at Hailey's insides. Why did everyone seem to have a wretched home life? First her father, now her good friend... Maybe it was not everyone, but a pattern of cruel family dynamics seemed to be developing that she did not like one bit.
"Yeah, I'll ask my mum and dad tonight. I'm sure they wouldn't mind."
"Thanks, Al. That would be great. I could use a break from all this."
Hailey was about to say something when the voices she and her friends had heard earlier broke through the merry chatter throughout the room, louder and more pronounced than before. The three of them whipped their heads in the direction of where the shouts were coming from. Hailey was surprised to pick out her mother's voice and... Was it Uncle Ron?
"...I love Severus! I will never be yours!" she heard her mother cry.
More heated exchanges followed, and everyone situated in the sitting room grew quieter at the onset of the heated argument ensuing in the other room. What was going on?
"...Snape isn't the so-called hero you think he is! I know it for a fact!"
"Don't hold your breath!"
"...you'll see him for what he truly is. For what I always said he was, but you never had the decency to listen to me..."
Hailey peered over at her father's distinguishable silhouette a few feet away. He had his hands behind his back and was staring at where the voices were coming from, along with everyone else. Those dark, evasive eyes of his were constricted and his mouth was cemented shut, not gaped like everyone else's.
Then he suddenly glided across the room to the doorway on the other side. He passed everyone with a determination and sharp focus Hailey had seen many times before. Uncle Harry quickly followed his lead, and Aunt Ginny met them on the opposite end of the room, right by the open doorway.
People began to talk excitedly when the yelling ceased. Why were her father, Uncle Harry, and Aunt Ginny just standing there? What were they looking at? Were they not going to break up the altercation? Why was her mother fighting in the first place? None of it made any sense.
Hermione searched her husband's ambiguous stare frantically. Her heart was beating so fast, it would surely pound straight through the center of her chest. Severus's eyes were soulless, entirely void of any emotion that she could decipher.
Was he furious? Upset? Disheartened? It was almost frightening to Hermione to find nothing tangible there. That could not possibly be the case. He must be irate; he had to be...
What had Severus heard? Had he seen the kiss? Did he know it was forced upon her, that she did not want it? What was he thinking? To be able to perform Legilimency at that moment would have worked wonders for Hermione's shaken nerves.
In an instant, her feet broke free of the floor and she rushed to him, not knowing what else to do. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his coat, taking in the familiar scent of his that she prized.
Her eyes slowly scanned the others just behind him. Ginny was staring at her, wide-eyed and shocked. Her freckles were no longer an attractive shade of red but had gone white. Harry, on the other hand, was not looking at her. His infamous green eyes were focused on Ron, his best mate, and it startled Hermione to see just how upset he was. The reddened color in his face, the tapered eyebrows... He was more enraged than she had seen him in a while, and it made the grey hairs around his temples more noticeable than before.
Hermione quickly glanced away from them, focusing instead on the wizard whom she had her arms wrapped around. He was not responding to her embrace—not at all—and that greatly upset her. She pulled back, hesitant to peer into his face, afraid of what she might receive.
"Severus?" she asked tentatively, her voice weakened from earlier. "It wasn't..."
"I know," he growled in a manner that told her to immediately hush, yet at the same time, reassured her of any misgivings she feared he might have.
Their locked exchange lasted for the briefest moment. The black orbs darted back to Ron, a heat radiating through his pale skin that turned his cheeks pink. He took Hermione by the arm—a quick, affectionate touch—before he brushed past her in the blink of an eye.
Hermione turned around, but Harry surprised her by seizing her arm. "'Mione, get out of here," he warned and then Harry, too, flew past her into the room.
"But—"
"Come away, Hermione," she heard Ginny urge, taking her by the hand. "I - I'm so sorry... I don't know what's gotten into my brother."
Hermione drew back, but only just. The back of Severus's head looked down at Ron, who was not much shorter than his former professor. They were practically eye level with one another, but Hermione wished she could see her husband's features rather than Ron's.
Ron did not appear frightened when Severus first approached, but with Harry at the dark wizard's side, his confidence waned. He shifted awkwardly but still glared back at the Potions Master. He could not have illustrated more hatred for the man, and that pained Hermione to see.
"How dare you!" Severus hissed at him. His tone may have been soft, but it projected all the indignation of a wronged man.
"I..." Ron began, but Harry interrupted him.
"What the hell are you thinking, Ron? Have you gone completely mental?"
Severus's head canted towards Harry, but he kept his dangerous eyes glued on the redhead. "Stay out of this, Potter," he warned.
"No! I'm sorry, sir, but I can't! Ron is supposed to be my best friend—"
"Supposed to be?" Ron repeated, slighted by the Boy Who Lived; the hurt was evident in the insulted look he gave Harry.
"Ron, how could you do this to 'Mione? To Severus? To their kids? They're family to us! I - I'm shocked."
"BUTT OUT!" Ron snarled, but Severus's subsequent growl shot from deep within his throat, and the result was far more savage than anyone could have imagined.
"Stay away from her, you insolent—"
"Well, you don't deserve her! You never have, and you never will!"
The pupils of Severus's eyes shrunk and his lips curled back, showing his teeth. In that moment, he resembled more of a wild beast than a human being, and the result was genuinely terrifying to Ron and Harry.
"HOW DARE YOU TOUCH MY WIFE!" Severus roared.
"She was mine before she ever belonged to you!"
Harry gaped at his friend as if he had sprouted three heads. "Ron, for Merlin's sake!"
"YOU STOLE HER FROM ME!"
A murderous, sinister smile formed on Severus's lips. "If you say so," the older wizard provoked, sending Ron into a ranting and raving state of lunacy.
"YOU'RE A MURDERER! A DEATH EATER!"
"Ron!" Hermione begged feebly, but Ginny held her close.
"You've done nothing but kill, deceive, and spite people all your life! You're a miserable louse! You treated Harry like vermin! And what you said to 'Mione when we were teenagers is unforgivable!"
"Ron, stop it!" Harry contended, glancing sideways at Severus, who was surprisingly mute. He simply stared at the ginger man—his former pupil—with overt disregard.
"You should get on the ground and grovel at 'Mione's feet! It's revolting what she sees in a wretch like you! You coldhearted bastard!"
"RON, THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Harry cried, reaching for his wand tucked away in his back pocket.
"YES, IT IS HARRY! He may not have 'killed' Dumbledore as you claim, but there were plenty of others!"
"Weasley, I'm warning you..." Severus growled in an unnaturally calm voice.
"You've hidden from your past all your life! 'Mione and Harry may choose to ignore what you did, but I, for one, won't! I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE! YOU - YOU DECREPIT, OLD HAS-BEEN!"
What happened then was so fast, no one had time to do anything but blink. Severus lunged at Ron, grabbing him by a fist full of his shirt, and catapulted him against the wall with tremendous force. The hanging pictures on the wall shook at the impact, a few toppled to the ground, and Harry half-expected to find an imprint where Ron's head collided.
Ron yelped in pain, but then his blue eyes shot open, completely baffled by the Potions Master's strength. When he was younger, Severus could easily toss him and Harry around like Quaffles, but he was an older man now, and Ron hardly expected Severus to still possess the physical force he once owned.
"If you ever come near my wife again, Weasley," Severus challenged in a possessive tone that sent chills down everyone's spines, including Ron's, "I assure you... It will be the last thing you ever do in your life!"
Ron's mouth went dry and his lips trembled in a foolish way that almost caused Hermione to pity him. Almost. She could see Severus's stark form shaking uncontrollably, and it was an unfortunate sight that Harry bore witness to as well. The one-time adversary of the Potions professor hesitated for a second but then reached out to take Severus by the shoulder. Severus jerked at the contact but kept his grip on the redhead who had now officially become his foe.
"Sir," Harry exhorted with a gentleness that Hermione, at least, appreciated, "let me handle this. Please? Let me talk some sense into him."
"I said stay out of this, Potter!"
Hermione staggered forward out of Ginny's grip. Her nerves were utterly shattered. She wanted to disappear from this place. More than anything, she wanted to get as far away from Ron—whom she cared for so deeply—as quickly as possible. She could hear whispers coming from the other room, and it was just the sort of push that she needed.
"Severus!" she gasped, her alluring waves falling all about her face. Even in her breathlessness, she caught Severus's unwavering attention. "Listen to Harry. Let's get out of here. Please! I want to go home."
Ron was crushed by the anguish in her voice but, more than anything, it devastated him to see another loving, devoted exchange between the love of his life and Professor Snape. It was not meant for him, and it probably never would be. She had never looked at him that way, despite his best efforts. Ever. It confirmed all of his doubts and sorrows, and he surrendered, not even physically trying to fight off his rival's strength anymore.
Severus reluctantly withdrew Ron from his clutches, but only at Hermione's solemn request, and it was a most difficult contact to break. He stared Ron down with ferocious loathing one final time before turning his back and escorting his wife—Ron's everything—from the room.
Ron did not even get the chance to peek at Hermione before she left. That black, ominous figure, like countless times before, kept him from seeing the sole person he wanted—needed—to, but it was too late. She was gone, leaving Ron in the company of all the gaping, disappointed faces of family and friends.
"What's wrong? What happened?" Lily asked her father as Hermione disappeared into their bedroom without a word.
"Nothing, sweetheart," Severus grumbled, entirely unconvincing for once. "Just let her be."
"Well, that was embarrassing." Surina crossed her arms and took a seat next to Severus on the couch in their sitting room. "We didn't even get to say goodbye to anyone. They'll think us rude, Dad."
"No, they won't."
Hailey leaned against the armchair on Severus's side, peering down at the top of his head curiously. The grim outline of his face stared at the fireplace, soaking in its warm, rosy hues.
"Why was Mum arguing with Uncle Ron? We could all hear it, Dad. No use in denying it."
Severus's tired eyes spotted Jeannie on the floor. Lily had taken the toddler into her arms to quiet her as she fiddled with stuffing three cookies into her mouth. She had been in the midst of devouring them when Hermione had seized her by the arm and led her away from the party.
"It's late," he mumbled, putting a hand to his temple and ignoring his children's inquiries. "Time for bed."
"It's barely nine o'clock, Dad!" Surina protested softly.
"Don't start!" Severus snapped, causing Hailey and Surina to jolt back at his outburst. It was an act he instantly regretted, and he spoke again more gently than before. "I'm sorry, girls. This has been a rough night for your mother and me. Please, go to bed..."
Each daughter hesitated before finally heeding his command. They said their individual goodnights and excused themselves from the room. Lily insisted on putting her youngest sister to bed, but Jeannie made a loud stink of Severus not doing so all the way up the stairs, her little voice of objection trickling down the hallway to where Severus sat.
Once he heard his daughters' footsteps shuffling about upstairs, Severus wasted little time sulking on the sofa. He stalked down to the bedroom, worried about what kind of state Hermione might be in. He could only hope that she was not a basket case; his heightened nerves would not handle an emotionally wrought Hermione tonight.
When he entered the room, he was shocked to make out her silhouette already curled up in bed. There was no light except for the fireplace, and the room was as silent and still as the cold, peaceful winter's night outside. Her body did not stir when Severus came in discreetly, and he halted in front of the doorway. He was not acknowledged. Was she asleep?
No, she couldn't be... Not after what happened tonight...
Should he just leave her alone and give her some space? Severus's mind reflected upon his own behavior that night, which was admittedly less than cordial or appropriate.
Was she angry with him? For his reaction to everything? He was exhausted and in no mood to fight with her, too. She was probably frazzled and upset enough as it was without his unnecessary probing.
I should leave her alone...
Severus lingered with his hand on the doorknob for another moment before deciding that it was probably his safest bet. He tread lightly and started to close the door, when Hermione's feeble voice called out to him from across the room.
"Aren't you coming to bed?"
When Severus gazed across the room again, Hermione was sitting up with the heavy, emerald covers pulled up to her neck. For a moment, she resembled a small child asking to be tucked in for the night, but her soft curls, reflective due to the roaring fireplace, cast rays of light across her provocative, womanly features: her petite nose, the fullness of her mouth, her long, delicate eyelashes...
Like a ghost emerging from the twilight, Severus walked back into the room and shut the door. Her simple request—it was not a question, really—was all that was needed for him to obey.
Hermione watched him attentively as he undressed, not caring if he knew she was blatantly studying him all the while. It was something he routinely detested, and, normally, she tried to be discrete, but not now. She wanted to watch. First the long, black cloak, then the buttons...
The buttons.
Severus performed it all too quickly. She knew he did not like to be gawked at, but she could never will herself to not look upon him, and all of him, at that. He moved in and out of the shadows as swiftly and quietly as could be. When he removed his undershirt, Hermione could make out the deep, self-inflicted marks all over his back and arms. She knew how they had come to be there; they were present as long as she had known him, and she was secretly glad to not know just how often or how many times the Potions Master had tortured himself over Lily Potter's death all those years ago.
The nearby fire made the wounds impossible to disguise, but there was hardly any time to scrutinize, for Severus threw on his pajamas and Hermione's window of opportunity into the man's soul was lost. Hermione lowered her eyes as Severus advanced towards the bed. It was not that she did not want to meet his eyes; on the contrary, she loved getting lost in their depths. Only, she was rather ashamed about the unwanted kiss from earlier, the stealing of her lips by one of her closest friends. It was something she could not bear the thought of Severus witnessing; and, yet, he had.
Was he still angry? Did he truly believe her when she started to tell him that it was thrust upon her against her wishes? Did he still doubt her regard for him, something she seemed to always be fighting him on anyway?
Hermione waited for him to climb into bed beside her. Once she sensed that he was comfortably situated, she scooted herself as close to Severus as possible and laid her head against his chest. She was grateful when he remained silent and was equally relieved that he did not turn her away. She feared he might.
There was no hounding, no forcing her to relive the events from earlier. Hermione listened to Severus's steady breathing, the feel of his skin against her palm, the heat of his body that warmed her figure, as well as her heart. "Hold me..." she whispered at last and Severus willingly complied, swaddling her into a secure, long embrace.
Hermione slept only a few hours that night. She suspected the opposite, however, and was relieved that Severus at least found the act of sleeping easier than her. It was a nice change. She concluded that he needed it more than her anyhow, no matter how awful the day had turned out to be.
After lying snug and tucked in next to Severus's now loose caress for hours, Hermione resolved to read in an attempt to fall back asleep. She removed herself quietly from their bedroom quarters and went into the sitting room, now cold and deserted. She lit the hearth with her wand and situated herself on the sofa, prepping for the long hours ahead. Her mind was too distracted for sleep, but she hoped a read through the latest Quibbler issue might at least put her in better spirits, if not divert her attention entirely.
About an hour later, she was half-way through a loony version of the poisoning attacks—which had not done Hermione much good to think on—when the disgruntled voice of her husband drew her out of the paragraph she was on. She startled and caught a glimpse of Severus at the open doorway, looking quite rumpled and haggard.
"What are you doing out of bed?" she heard him ask sleepily.
"You didn't take your tonics, did you?" she blurted out in reply, which caused Severus to straighten.
"What?" he grumbled, irritated. "Hermione, did you hear me?"
"Erm, yes, sorry... I just realized... Never mind."
"Can't you sleep? Are you all right?"
Hermione sighed and threw down The Quibbler on the coffee table. "No, I'm not."
She put her hand to her head and shut her eyes. Ron's confession, his heartfelt expressions of hurt, that unwanted kiss... It was as if her mind was on repeat and she had no way of blocking it out. She heard Severus's soft footsteps approach, then a subtle, pleasant growl.
"Move over."
Hermione gazed up at him but did as instructed. Severus took a seat at her side and put a protective arm around her shoulder, providing much-desired comfort that Hermione so desperately needed and was thankful to receive. She gathered up an old afghan her mother had knitted for her and Severus as a wedding present and threw it over them, and they nestled into the warmth of the fireplace and each other.
Severus seemed to be waiting on Hermione to address the situation. She knew she would have to bring it up eventually, only the pain was still so fresh in her mind. She wove her arms around Severus's waist and sighed heavily as they stared into the hypnotizing flames.
"I'm sorry you had to see and hear that... I tried to get Ron to stop. I wasn't expecting that from him; none of it. Please believe me?"
"I do, Hermione."
"He told me he loved me. That he's never stopped loving me all this time..."
"I know."
"I feel horrible, Severus. I - I had no idea just how much pain I've caused him over the years. I knew he still loved me because of what we'd been through together; there's a bond between the three of us that will never be broken, but... I thought that was it, that that was the extent of his feelings."
"You really didn't know he was still in love with you?" Severus's question was considerate, not bitter or cross as might have been expected.
"No... I didn't. He's like a brother to me, Severus. He's family. The whole Weasley clan is. He married Lavender and they had a family together. I - I never would have thought... I've been such a fool, haven't I?"
"You're not a fool, my dear. Naive, yes, but not foolish."
"I thought I was clever," she grumbled as she tugged on Severus's long-sleeved cotton shirt beneath the cozy throw.
"You are," Severus assured her with a slight chuckle. "Perhaps just not when it comes to matters of the heart."
"Oh, well, in that case, you are no suave sentimentalist either, Severus Snape. And you're supposed to be a mind reader!"
Hermione could perceive Severus smirking at her playful jab which gave her some contentment. She laced a leg over his on the coffee table, wanting to be as close to him as possible.
"I'm proud of you, by the way," she whispered, peering up into his eyes. He was regarding her with a raised eyebrow. "For not killing him, I mean. You showed tremendous restraint, love."
Severus's dark eyes were strained and glistened in the light of the flames, sending Hermione into a small fit of giggles. She felt him wrap his arms around her more tightly and could not help but enjoy his possessive nature taking over.
"If you hadn't been there," he retorted with a low growl, "I might have had the opportunity."
"I'm sorry."
"When he kissed you..."
Hermione stiffened, sensing the mixture of hurt and confusion in his voice which he easily masked to others, but not her. "No, Severus," she affirmed, hugging him close. "It meant nothing to me. Nothing at all."
She felt Severus relax in her arms before he spoke again in a frank manner that was still considerate. His words were touching and more than a little surprising.
"Mr. Weasley has been hurting for a long time, Hermione, but it's of his own making. You cannot be held responsible for his unchanged feelings. It's up to him to move on, my dear. Don't let it eat at you."
Hermione knew where this small dose of wisdom was coming from, and her embrace compressed around him in response. She buried her face in his neck, the tip of her nose nuzzled against one of the deep crevasses that lined his skin. She heard a gentle groan emit from his throat and was appreciative that he did not pull away, instead bringing her into a more secure hug.
"I love you," he murmured unexpectedly, causing a broad smile to form on Hermione's lips.
"I love you more..."
Hermione allowed her sweet mouth to touch one of the gashes on Severus's neck ever so gently. When he did not shrink from her kiss, she did it again. And again. She heard him sigh once or twice, seemingly enjoying the act.
"I will forever be indebted that you chose me, Hermione. Even if I never understand why."
Hermione regarded the pale man in her arms with a fixed, thoughtful gaze. "Don't say that," she implored him. "Don't ever talk like you're unworthy of me, sweetheart. Is it so unimaginable for you, after all this time, to think that I could fall in love with you?"
I won't answer that question, Severus decided and grumbled instead, taking Hermione aback. She suspected what he was thinking, and she placed her hand on his cheek and traced the softness of his skin that she knew so well.
"Tell me about our first real Christmas together."
Severus peered down at her with narrowed eyebrows. "What?"
"I want you to tell me. It's been a long time since you told me..."
"Hermione—"
"Please, Severus? This day has been such a mess. Tell me again. Our first Christmas after the war... For my sake?"
"You're a pain," he groused, though she knew he was teasing.
"Tell me anyway."
A nineteen-year-old Hermione trampled carefully through the thick batches of snow covering the streets, keeping one arm around Severus's as they made their way down a steep hill lined with shops. Hermione knew Severus loathed shopping, probably even more than his obnoxious students, if that were possible, and had grown most annoyed that she did not end up buying a wool-made fleece for her mother for Christmas. After all, that was the whole reason for this outing to Tetbury, a small, charming village in the English countryside. And yet, she had walked away with nothing.
Severus privately enjoyed the Cotswolds; a part of him had always wanted to live in a quaint village like the one they were in. He enjoyed the cobblestone streets, stone houses, and flower beds that bloomed in the spring, not to mention the rolling hills and uncorrupted, beautiful landscapes. It was picturesque, like he had stepped into one of his childhood dreams, so different from his morbid reality.
He would love to stay here—with Hermione—but it was impractical to think on such a ridiculous, hopeless idea. He belonged at Hogwarts, and Hermione, well, she belonged with someone else. Someone who could offer her a far better life than the one he had provided for her thus far...
It had been seven months since Severus was released from Azkaban prison. Hermione and Harry managed to get all charges against the professor dropped, but the process had been a long, grueling array of hearings, accusations, more accusations, and the like. Harry himself took to the task of clearing Severus's name as best he could and explained to the Ministry where the Potions Master's loyalties lay all along. Severus was exceedingly grateful, to be sure; but, in truth, none of it would have mattered to him, and he would have rotted away in Azkaban the rest of his life, if it were not for Hermione Granger.
Hermione Granger. That brilliant, gifted know-it-all—and Gryffindor—who had claimed his heart from Lily Potter at last. He would never have made it through that time without her, without knowing that she was waiting for him. Why she waited for someone like him was beyond his rational capabilities, but he was beholden to her, and always would be. Even if one day she woke up and decided enough was enough...
Severus's far away thoughts were distracted by the young witch at his side, who suddenly braced herself against him to keep from crashing into the snow. He grumbled irritably but managed to steady Hermione, who blushed at him as they reached the bottom of the hill.
"Do you hear that?" she breathed with wondrous delight.
Severus searched the streets and spotted a group of carolers two blocks away. They finished "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" and began singing a rather haunting rendition of "Silent Night." Hermione searched the deserted streets, making sure no one was lurking about. It was too cold, and most people had taken shelter in a few of the cafes or restaurants situated up and down the sidewalks. She turned to Severus and took possession of both of his gloved hands.
"This one's my favorite."
"Oh?"
His voice sounded unimpressed, or perhaps even bored. Hermione ignored it.
"Dance with me?"
Severus's dark eyes widened for a second. "What?"
"Please?" she pouted, placing one of his hands around her waist without permission. "Just one dance? We've never danced..."
"And I would prefer to keep it that way," Severus hissed, his voice catching nervously, which only made Hermione laugh at his expense.
"Oh, c'mon, Severus. Are you afraid of dancing poorly?"
"I'm not afraid of dancing!" he spat through narrowed eyes. "I just prefer not to."
"Oh, please?" she purred, brushing herself up against him. "Dance with me, Severus Snape."
Before he could protest again, her legs began to move along with one of their interlocked hands outstretched. She put her other hand on his shoulder and slowly rocked back and forth in the snow. Severus snarled at Hermione, first for having the nerve to lead when that was clearly the man's duty, and, second, for what she was about to make him do. With much reluctance, he began to dance along with her, taking over the duty of leading.
Hermione peered up at the poor wizard, who looked beyond mortified to be dancing like this in such a public place, in the freezing cold, and with a beautiful, young lady in his arms. His complexion may have been white, but the inner humiliation made his cheeks glow. Hermione thought it endearing, so she nuzzled her nose against his as they rocked in a slow circle to the tune of "Silent Night."
The touching carol made Hermione think of her life a little over a year and a half ago. Things were so different then... Lord Voldemort had been defeated, Harry and her friends (for the most part) had survived the battle, and Severus, bitten by Nagini and administered help by her, proceeded to fight for his life in St. Mungo's for over a month after it was all over, and it wasn't over yet...
Hermione never left his side during that angst-ridden period. She was scared to lose him but also feared what might happen to him if she left. He was not a criminal, and hardly deserved all the whispers and lies that were spreading like wild fire through the wizarding community. The Aurors that ended up outside his hospital ward for half of his stay only fueled her rage. She would fight for his freedom if he remained too weak to do so himself.
Severus, unaware of Hermione's contemplations, fought the urge to stop the dance with every ounce of his being. As it continued, however, he grew a little more at ease, but only just. The snow, the Christmas bug that never lifted everywhere they went, Hermione's favorite holiday hymn... It was all quite perfect for...
Severus, shut up! he berated himself. What the hell has come over you? She's only twenty, you fool! This is a fancy, a whim. Her feelings for you will fade with the melting snow, and when they do, you'd better be prepared to let her go!
Still, his conscience pushed on despite himself, this would have been an ideal opportunity if he had had a ring to put on her finger... Would she have found the moment magical? Would it have been everything she had hope for? Did not most girls dream about a romantic proposal, a fairy-tale wedding, all that happily ever after nonsense Lily was always going on about when they were kids?
Severus, you imbecile! She's just a girl, and you're an old man. She wouldn't want you; she shouldn't want you. Pull yourself together!
He felt Hermione's mitten fingers squeeze his shoulder. Her face was turned away from his, lying comfortably against his chest. Was she trembling? The carol soon ended, and Severus stopped dancing.
"Are you cold?" he whispered. He wrapped his arms around her, and she did the same.
"No," she sniveled. "I - I'm fine."
Severus drew back to see her face, but she seemed adamant not to look at him. He took possession of her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. Her big, caramel eyes were wet, her eyelashes dampened, and there were fresh tears falling down her cheeks.
"Why are you crying?" he asked with a hint of alarm.
Hermione shook her head, her pretty curls twirling back and forth. "Nothing. I'm all right, really."
"Hermione..."
Severus gave her a stern expression and the reminder of her former professor came flooding back to her, only it was much softer than the usual dead glare he gave most Gryffindors. "I was just thinking about how much things have changed. You, me, us. I never would have thought..."
She did not finish her sentence, or was incapable of doing so, so Severus politely did it for her. "You never thought you'd be with someone like me."
Hermione's gentle features contorted into an expression of horror. "No, no! That's not what I meant, Severus!"
"Oh?" He seemed relatively surprised.
"No, I... I meant the snake bites, your health, the hearings, Azkaban... I wasn't sure you'd make it. And then when you went to prison, there were times I thought we'd never get you out of there. If you weren't set free, if we didn't have this opportunity to share a Christmas together, I - I don't know what I'd do..."
Hermione could not express herself again and, instead, buried her face in his chest. She clung to him but did not cry, only held him as tightly as she could.
"And here I thought agreeing to dance with you would make you happy. Instead, it's turned you into a sloppy mess. This is why I should not be permitted to dance."
Hermione stifled a chuckle, which Severus caught and could not help but smirk at. He squeezed her gently before releasing his grip. She continued to lace her arms around him and stared up into his face, now in happier spirits and more than a little intrigued.
"What were you thinking about? You were awfully quiet, you know. I thought for sure you would make some kind of snide remark."
Severus cleared his throat, a little taken aback by her question. "The thought crossed my mind," he stated and diverted his eyes from hers.
"Oh, c'mon, Severus, what were you thinking about?"
"Nothing."
"I'm not convinced."
"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you then."
"Severus, your lack-of-emotion techniques don't work on me anymore," she said with a sly smile. "Now out with it!"
"Erm, no."
"Was it about us? Was it about me?"
"Perhaps," he snarled, against his better judgment.
"Perhaps? What was it?"
She won't let up, I know it, he berated himself. Damn her!
"Awww, what, Severus? C'mon! Out with it!"
Hermione drew herself close to him and inspected every line in his face. He was unconventionally good looking, even if he looked older in appearance than most wizards his age. The wars had not been kind to him, which certainly dampened her spirits a bit, but he was more than handsome enough to her. She had thought so for a long time, longer than when he first developed feelings for her during her sixth year...
"You will think me either a fool or it will frighten you, and I'm not prepared for either reaction. Let it alone, Hermione."
Hermione's smile turned into a frown. What was so secretive? And why would she ever think Severus to be a fool? He could be stubborn and hardheaded most of the time, yes, but a fool? Never.
"I just shared something very personal with you, Severus," she sulked in the best, most dramatic way she knew how. To her delight, it was working. "Why can't you be honest and open with me? After everything we've been through?"
Severus sighed and cast his eyes upon the red gloves on her hands. He scooped them up and examined them quietly for a moment as Hermione held her attention only for him, her wizard in black.
"When you think of us, Hermione," he began, choosing his words carefully, "do you... Do you see a future with me? I would like your honesty regarding this, if you would."
Hermione's brown eyebrows constricted, coming together curiously. "Of course I do. I'm here, aren't I?"
"I know you're here, but how do you see this playing out in the end?"
"In the end?"
There was a nervous edge to her voice now, and Severus braced himself for the worst. This had to be one of the hardest conversations he had ever had in his life. Why here and now and in this place? And what if she rejected him?
"Do you... Do you really want me, Hermione? Are you sure that being with me—in the long-term—is what you want?"
"Why wouldn't I be sure?"
"Hermione, listen. I'm not new, I'm not young... I am considerably older than you—"
"Oh, bollocks! No, you're not, Severus."
"Just let me finish, would you?" he growled, and she consented with a sigh. "You have a lifetime ahead of you. I don't. Even with wizarding age, that's the reality of our situation, Hermione, and I don't want to ever hold you back or keep you from the things that you want. And you should have everything, Hermione. You deserve that much. Everything in the world..."
Hermione tugged on his back, pushing him against her so that they were mere inches from one another. Her smile was kind and genuine as always, but was also quite serious.
"I already have everything, Severus. It's all right here, with you. You're not holding me back; only I can do that. I know our situation isn't ideal, but I would have thought by now you'd know my feelings. I love you, Severus. I want to be with you, and no one else."
"Hermione, I beg you, think over the matter—"
"I've done that, Severus. I've had a few years now to think it over. Don't you see? This is the decision I've reached." She paused to survey him with a warm, provocative sort of smile. "Is this what you were thinking about? That I shouldn't be with you? Really, Severus!"
"It wasn't just that," he snarled, clearly put out. "I don't like being selfish, Hermione, but I can't help myself. I - I want you. I want you exclusively and all to myself! But I know that's wrong of me, and..."
Hermione listened as he spoke with an intense feeling and affection for her. He could not finish what he wanted to say, but she understood. She leaned forward and pecked him tenderly on the cheek.
"I am yours, silly," she teased lightly.
"Would you?"
"Would I what?"
"Would you... Stay mine? If - If I asked you to?"
Hermione scrutinized him for a moment, completely befuddled by all his vague questions. Then, her face suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree. Her mouth dropped, and, to his pain and utter humiliation, she squealed excitedly.
"Are you..." she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "OH, MY GOD! Are you— Are you asking me? Really? Oh, Severus! Is this for real? SEVERUS! Merlin, oh my gosh! OH—"
"Calm down, Hermione! Wait, please!" He seized her hands, now panic-stricken by her misinterpretation. "Please, no! I - I don't have anything to give you just yet."
Hermione continued to beam from ear to ear, but she composed herself long enough for him to speak. "I wanted to know where your sentiments lay before, erm, taking the next step. I wanted to be sure that you see a future with me, that I am truly what you want."
Hermione abruptly grabbed Severus firmly by his coat and pulled him to her. The force she used was unanticipated and, to him, quite enrapturing. She planted a long, passionate kiss on his mouth that left him momentarily paralyzed. When she unlocked her lips from his, she was more blissful than he had seen in a very long time.
"You are what I want, Severus Snape."
Severus let out the breath he had been holding. "Well, I can honestly say that that is a relief to hear."
Hermione rolled her eyes playfully and let out fits of giggles. She put her hand to her mouth while her eyes flickered, elated by what Severus had asked her. She knew it was only words, but they were special, entirely for her, and it was a definite promise. It was all she had been hoping to hear, and it was more than enough.
"I can't believe you were thinking about proposals! YOU, of all people! Oh, you scoundrel! And here I thought you incapable of—"
"Oh, cut it out," he growled through gritted teeth, "or I'll take it back!"
Hermione was too overjoyed to care about whatever threats he made. She proceeded to tease Severus some more as they made their way down the snow-covered streets arm in arm.
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