Disclaimer: Not mine.
I Need to Breathe
Chapter 49
The Choice
The Healer eventually allowed Hermione to return to her flat rather than to a bed in Hogwarts' infirmary. She insisted she was well enough to take care of herself, until she tried to walk from the taxi to the lift, then down the hall to her door. Harry refused to help her, having told her that he agreed with Snape. If she could not make it on her own, she had no business staying alone.
"Okay," she panted. "You can tell him I did it."
"I will tell him you barely did it. I will also tell him you only made it as far as the sofa."
"I just need to rest. I have lain up in that bed for a month now."
"Not long enough, you still look like shite."
"Thanks, Harry. You so know how to charm a girl." She swung up her legs and grabbed a throw pillow. "I am knackered. If you want to leave I am going to nap."
"You sure?"
"No, I thought I would go jogging around the square as soon as you left."
"Funny."
"Glad you think so."
"Listen, Hermione, if you dare to step out of here he'll have my arse in a sling. You know that, right?"
"Yes, Harry," she said through her yawn. "I promise, now go."
He watched as she punched the pillow to plump it up, and then lay her head down, closing her eyes. He waited a few minutes until her breathing evened out and left quietly, thinking to contact Ginny and have her check in on Hermione later.
Hermione heard the door close and snapped open her eyes, pushing up on her hands she peeked over the back on the sofa to make sure he had gone. Finally, she thought, standing up slowly and going to the door, only to open it and come face to face with Severus.
"I must say, you waited at least three minutes longer than I thought you would. You must have worked hard on your patience."
"Come in," she said with a sigh.
"First of all I am not here to stop you. In doing so, I will only anger you. So, please if you want to go, go."
"Then you are here … why?"
"So I can pick you up when you don't make it beyond the curb."
"I want to see the coffee shop."
"Hermione, it has not reopened yet. There is no point in it. None of the victims had the first name of Mary, nor did any of the injured. It is possible that she was not even at work that day or that the wait staff did not make their real names known. "
"You are sure it has not reopened?"
"This is what we do. We start with something small, something like not believing I checked the names, and we blow it up until…"
"I do believe you, I… just … okay, so I was going to double check," she rolled her eyes and headed back to the sofa. "Okay, I get it."
"Thank you." He frowned at her.
"We have put off our talk. This would be good time."
"Yes," he sighed and joined her on the sofa. "I agree."
"I need to know two things. I am sure you know what they are."
"I couldn't see you, Hermione. I don't know if you can understand, or believe me on this." He turned sideways to watch her face. "I love you. I love you now, and I did then. By seeing you, by letting you think I could ever be free, that what you wanted could ever be a possibility would have stopped you from moving forward. I very much did not want that for you."
"You should have told me that. You should have had the … the courtesy to talk to me, just once, to tell me that. It wouldn't have mattered, granted, but you should have talked to me. What about the divorce papers? How can you claim to love me and do that? That was the deepest cut. Not that you…you wanted a divorce. I think I always knew it would happen. But, that you lied to me. You let me believe things were getting better."
"I did not want you to find out the way you did. No, don't say anything until I am done." He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, hoping she would not interrupt until he was done. "When we first had our… difficulties I had indeed applied for a divorce. You are aware of this, and if I remember correctly you hexed me three times that day."
He waited until he saw her nod her head and grimace.
"We decided to try again. Yes, because of the child, but I had hoped it was more than that. At the same time, I was concerned over the possibility that … that you would still want to leave or that certain events would unfold, that would make a divorce… desirable.
When I told you I would contact Kingsley to stop the paper work, I only postponed it. Leaving it open, as you found it. I am glad you signed it. If you had not, you would have been questioned automatically and taken to Azkaban as a co-conspirator. As it was, Kingsley was able to keep you out of it."
"You should have told me at the time. You should have explained it to me. You have no idea how much you hurt me. When you accused me of carrying someone else's child, I didn't think you could do anything worse. But that…what you did…I don't think I can ever forgive you, or trust you again."
He leaned forward and cupped her face in his hands. "Are you still fearful of me?"
"No," she said, remembering the conversation they had had the night Draco had given her Rasputin. "My gods, Severus. I am so sorry. I didn't mean it that way, not to hurt you."
"No," he shook his head. "You were honest with me. Yes, it…bothered me. However, I would rather you be honest with me. I would rather see you leave, than stay with me and be fearful of what I may do."
She flung her arms around him, crying into his neck, feeling him pull her close and stroke her back, lifting the hem of her tee to slide his hands over her back.
"It should have been my choice if I wanted to see you. It should have been up to me if I wanted to … to move on as you put it. It's not up to you. It's not your choice who or how I love. Do you understand me?"
He pulled her away from him far enough to see her face. "So, the next time I am in Azkaban I shall consent to see you."
"Don't joke, not now," she sniffed, sliding back down to his side and resting her head on his shoulder. "It's not up to you. And I am going to say this one last thing… just this once. Just this once and then we are done with it and will never mention it again."
"And what would that be?" he asked, looking down at her with a smirk.
"You don't decide when and how you die." She swallowed hard, watching as his face turned from amused and concerned, to cold and hard.
He sat forward pushing her away, pausing for only a moment he stood. "It is late. Abby will be concerned if I am not in my chambers when she comes in."
"I see." Hermione stood as well, aware that he was angrier than he sounded. "We went through the same thing when she first came here. Once she is more comfortable with her surroundings, she will be more at ease. Hopefully, she will lose some of her anger at my letting her go as well."
"I shall make arrangements for her to visit."
"I would appreciate that, thank you."
"I will leave you to your rest."
"Thank you for stopping in, Severus."
He closed the door behind him quietly, leaving Hermione to look after him. She thought it strange that a few short weeks ago she would never have dared mention his suicide attempt, or understood why he walked out, unable to talk about it. She felt drained of energy, and laid back down on the sofa, this time falling into a deep sleep.
Something woke her. She wasn't sure what. Sitting up in the dark, she rubbed her eyes, frowning and started to get up, when she heard a voice. Jumping back and clutching the pillow in front of her, she relaxed when she realized it was Severus.
"You could turn on a … Severus?"
"Shhh, you should sleep. I did not come to wake you."
"You …you are scaring me now. Is there something wrong?"
"I thought we needed to finish our discussion. I meant no harm."
"I told you I would never mention it again."
"I plan on marrying you witch. I want you to understand."
"Severus? Are you okay?"
"Yes, but I need to say this. You need to understand." He ploughed ahead, aware she had not commented on his admission.
"I do know… I did know, or thought I did, until you tried to … what you did. I have a hard time saying it, even now. Suicide. There. That's it, isn't it? Nothing noble. Nothing more than what it was. I don't give a rat's arse why. How the fuck do you think it made me feel to know you would rather be dead than talk to me?"
"I am not fearful of death. At one time I welcomed it, only to be denied my escape by an over zealous future herbology professor, and a know-it-all-saviour. I resented what you and he did. For a long time I resented the both of you meddling in something you were too young to understand."
"You don't have to do this," she said quietly, straining to see his silhouette in the darkness.
"Yes, yes I do. You will afford me this time." He sat for a few moments then began again. "Azkaban was my nightmare. Your nightmares are of …people. You feel terror at their possible loss, fearing your own inability to stop them from dying. I have only found terror in the absence of control. Absence of self, as it is. In surrender. It may seem … foolish to you, as your terrors seem ill founded and foolish to others."
"No, not foolish."
"I have been experiencing …difficulties with Abby. She refuses to wear the uniform, often wearing her older Muggle clothing under it. In an attempt to understand what her fears were, I looked into her mind. You need'nt worry, I explained it fully and she was quite comfortable with it. Until that time I don't think I understood completely why I fear, as I do, surrendering my will."
"How…I am sorry, go on."
"How bad was it?" He chuckled. "It is not the … incident that scared her. Rather the loss of trust and love in the only people she knew. When she disobeyed, she was tied to a chair, or to her bed, I could not tell which, with silken scarves. I am sure whoever bound her thought they were disciplining her… or keeping her from harm…gently, using silk scarves to restrain a child that could not communicate. They never struck her, they never had to. Being blind, she could not see that they stayed with her, and being deaf, she could not hear if they were there. They threw her away in that moment. Her fears are simple. Desertion being the greatest. She was locked in a prison and her jailors had left her alone"
"That's why she gets so upset when you are not home, or when she first came to me, I couldn't leave the room without her trying to call me back, and why she won't wear anything silky."
"Yes. If she had remained calm, she would have known they were in the room with her. If I could …smell them, and feel the vibrations on the floor, she must have been able to. I can only assume it had happened before, and the sheer panic made it impossible for her to respond any other way. I could not find her earliest memory, without language they are near impossible to find as before we have language we do not store memories with a logic I can find."
He leaned his head back and paused again, glad that Hermione did not interrupt. "By the time I arrived in Hogwarts I already had… we will refer to them as control issues," he chuckled again. "However I am sure now my professors would have seen it as an attitude problem. Dumbledore was aware of my home life. However, whereas other students had the opportunity to spend the holidays and summers in residence I was not afforded that … luxury. I do not fault him, as I do not know his reasoning, or if my parents had any input in the decision, although I am inclined to believe my father would not have permitted it. However, every time I went back to Spinner's End, I felt more and more of … of me… disappearing to my father's fists and my mother's tears. He controlled with force, she with guilt. I returned each year looking for something from Hogwarts that was not there to be given, only I did not know it at the time.
I hid in books and lessons, striving to be the best, encouraged to… to delve into potions and even found approval from Slughorn in my knowledge of the Dark Arts. By the time I was of age, I ran to The Dark Lord. I welcomed him and I thought he welcomed me. He was to give me recognition, power, and most importantly …control over my life. I wanted to belong to something, to have a place that … that was home. That lasted a year. It was a lie, of course…but I was young and wanted to believe what I was told.
Hermione," he said as he leaned forward in his chair, putting his arms on his legs and looking at the floor. "I have spent my life since then doing things others have forced me into. I regret taking the mark. I regret many things that I had to do before and after the first conflict because I wear it. However, I have paid my dues. I have surrendered over half my life to two men that controlled me. I do not regret my decision, it is not that simple. I played so many roles with Dumbledore, and with Voldemort, keeping up a facade that on the one hand put me up as a saviour of our world and on the other a murderous coward, I lost...me. It was not always easy to remember what side I was on, or which the harder master. The only thing I have … rather that I had left to me was the control over my very life. Not how I lived it, not where, but if I chose to breathe at all.
When you accepted me, when you came to my bed and let me love you, when you carried my child … I knew what it was like to be free for the first time in my life. You gave me that. You. No one else, and I will never go back to what I had before. I need to breathe, and I can only breathe easily if I know you are here, for me."
He lifted his head, and although she could not see his face in the dark, only his shadow, she knew he was looking straight into her eyes. "If you tell me no…that I can live with and understand. However, understand this. If I lose myself, if anyone locks me up and takes away everything I have, and I do have you, even if you no longer want to see me. I have you just knowing you once loved me, knowing that you are alive. If they try to take that away, I would rather die. If I cannot have you, I will have your memory. Azkaban takes memories. Taking them and leaving its inmates empty. That... that I will never abide again."
She stood and crossed to him, falling to her knees between his legs and laying her head on his lap. "When you were … after Neville had already packed the moss into your neck, I found you. I didn't know it was Neville then, that wasn't until after. You asked…no told me…to finish you off. You wanted me to kill you."
"I remember only that someone was there, not who. I … I would like to say that I would not have asked …told a student to cast such a curse. My memories of that are as yours are of the café that was bombed. I honestly do not remember it."
"I had just finished spelling my mother's memory. She had fallen on the floor, and lay next to the bed, and then my father opened the door and saw me. He must have seen the flash, and me standing with the wand in my hand…," she lifted her head and sought his face, "he thought … he must have thought I had killed her and asked me to do the same to him. He thought I had hurt my Mum. As if I could have ever done that. I worry, I worry so much that if he remembers me at all, if his dreams can show him anything, that he will see that… and think I was trying to harm them."
"So you spend your life trying to give them back memories that would stop your own terrors?" Seeing her nod, he sighed and leaned back in the chair. Keeping his hands on the chair's arms and not touching her. "I am sorry, Hermione. What you seek is impossible."
"I know, I read your journals and I agree…we worked along the same lines. I can sleep a little better … but it is still there. And your terrors? Are they still there?"
"We never lose them, not completely. They are…less frequent."
"Do you think we can get beyond this? I am just curious. I don't know what you want."
"Hermione, what the bloody hell do you think I am trying to do?"
"Severus? Make love to me?"
He tipped her face up and kissed her lips gently, then shook his head. "This morning you were still in St. Mungo's. You need to rest."
"I don't want you to leave."
He scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom, laying her down and getting in the bed with her. Pulling her over him, he pushed her head to his shoulder, and waited until she finished squirming "Now go to sleep."
"I hate sleeping alone."
"Good, then you should be able to sleep tonight. Do so now."
She lifted her head and looked at him until his eyes opened. "What ever became of Rasputin?"
"Minerva tended him. He is … she is now fat and pregnant and intent on destroying my tapestries."
"Minerva or the cat?" she laughed, as his eyes snapped to hers, and his lip twitched.
She lowered her head and snuggled into him, throwing her top leg over his.
He was almost asleep when he felt more than heard her laughter. "What?"
"Minerva… pregnant. Wouldn't the Daily Prophet have a field day with that?"
"Hermione, go to sleep."
"I get my degree next year. Did I tell you that?"
"Sleep."
"I finish next September. That is if I go summer term. I wanted a double major, so it took a little longer."
"Are you done?" He craned his neck to look into her face.
"Almost. I miss Abby. Sometimes I even tried to get Harry to take me to Hogsmeade, just to see her in town."
"I never planned on keeping her from you. We decided she needed to settle in to her new surroundings first."
She rose up, and peered at him again. "Do you care for her?"
"I am … unaccustomed to caring for children on a personal level."
"Did I ask you that?"
"Sleep."
"Severus?"
"Yes."
She laid her head back on his shoulder grinning. "Git."
He sighed deeply and only nodded. Waiting a few moments, he tipped his head up and looked down at her with a smirk. Then he laid his head down and closed his eyes, knowing that since she'd gotten the last word, she could now go to sleep.
What seemed to her only a moment later, and burying her head in the pillow, she pulled the blanket from his side of the bed closer, breathing in his scent. Her arm reached for him, only to find his place empty. Opening one eye, groggily and seeing his robes draped across the foot of the bed she closed her eyes again, feeling comfortable and too lazy to get up. She heard the sound of the water running in the bath and grinned, thinking how put out he must have been to realize she did not have a shower, only the tub.
She sat up and glanced at the clock, seeing it was still early. Slipping out of bed she took off the clothes she had slept it, and put her bathrobe on, holding it closed and letting the belt trail on the floor. She snuck out to the kitchen and heated the water for tea as she measured out the loose mix into the pot. Looking in the fridge, she wrinkled her nose, shutting it before the smell could spread. Shite, she thought.
She picked up the tray that held only the two cups of tea and walked back to the bath opening the door and grinning to see Severus stretched out in the tub.
"Good morning." She laughed. "Not as big as what you are used to. I picked this flat over the other because small as the tub seems it was the largest one I found."
Setting the tray on the floor, she squatted down and picked up the cups, setting them on the side of the tub. She stood and opened her robe, letting it fall to the floor and stepped into the tub, straddling his legs and sitting on his thighs.
"Tea?"
"Merlin, witch!. Remind me to tell Mrs. Longbottom that she should consider you for head waitress. Business would increase exponentially." He picked up the teacups and leaned over, setting them back on the floor. "I am not thirsty."
"Hungry?" She whispered leaning forward, sucking on his ear lobe and whispering in his ear. "I think you have a … growing appetite."
"Witch," he breathed heavily. "We need to move to the bed."
"No," she purred, reaching down into the water and stroking him. "You should learn to … relax and enjoy your bath."
"Hermione," he said, as he sucked in his breath as her hand applied more pressure. "Gods, it has been too long."
He reached both hands into her hair pulling her forward and attacking her mouth, sucking her lower lip and seeking entry. He felt her rise up to her knees, as she held onto the sides of the tub, and lift up as far as she could before sliding down onto him.
"Oh, my gods," she gasped, falling forward on his chest, then sat back up, throwing her head back as he slouched down in the tub, grabbed her hips and pushed her lower.
His hands stroked her body, tenderly caressing her still purple bruises, glided down her sides, before moving to her inner thighs. She tried to move, finding it difficult to find a rhythm until he began to push his hips up, and guide her to follow him.
"Hermione, lean back, put your hands on my legs," He ground out, watching as she did what he asked, seeing her body arch backward, her breasts thrust higher, her head drop back.
He pushed his hips up, as his hand sought and found her clitoris, felt her begin to fall forward again, to rest on his chest, to reach his mouth. "No, Hermione, stay upright… I want to watch you."
Rising up on her knees she again lowered onto him, driving him deeper as his fingers continued to circle her clitoris. She moved faster, bracing her arms behind her, on his thighs again, until the sensations became more than she could stand.
"No," she moaned, "no, too much, too much." she brought her head up, releasing his legs, and throwing herself forward to his chest, as her climax shattered her. He held her tightly, waiting for her trembles to stop, feeling her internal walls clutching him, threatening to pull him along with her.
"Gods," she panted, tears running down her face as she rested on his chest, feeling him still hard and firm inside her. "I love you. I love you Severus."
"Put your hands on the tub over my head." he pushed her up from him as he drove his hips up. Grasping both her hips with both his hands, he pushed her down on him, guiding her, showing her what he needed, the new angle stroking her, and sending her to a second climax as he emptied into her.
He held her until her sobs stopped, then tipped up her chin to kiss her tears away. "Now, I know I did not hurt you. Tell me why you cry."
"I forgot how you felt…how good this was with you, how I missed being with you." Her chest heaved as she fought to suck in air, as she laid back down on him, exhausted.
"Do not play me for a fool, Hermione. However, for now I need to get you back to bed," he said seriously. "You are going to catch a chill sitting in cold water, and it is most assuredly growing cold."
She nodded and sat up, still breathing heavily from their exertions, rising up to step out of the tub. "I hope your wand is handy."
He leaned over and looked at the floor, now flooded with soapy water. . With a wave of his hand, he dried it and set the teacups back on the tray. Standing up next to her, he summoned her robe, dried it as well, and handed it to her with a sheepish look. "I prefer the tubs at Hogwarts."
Stepping out of the tub and cinching her robe, she had to smile seeing the small amount of water they had managed to keep in the tub. "Breakfast? No, forget it. I have nothing in the house."
"Would you prefer I go to the shop or get a takeaway?"
"Takeaway. There are things growing the fridge. Strange, green things. It looks like your old Hogwarts lab."
As she sat on the bed watching him dress, she noticed she had not seen him use a wand the past couple of times she had been with him. She flipped onto her stomach and reached down to the floor, pulling up his robes and feeling the pockets.
"I carry Muggle money in my trousers," he said, looking at her oddly.
"No, I was looking for your wand."
"Here, or when the students are not in residence, I do not carry it often."
"I am impressed. The only other wizard I knew that did wandless without thinking it was… special or powerful was Lupin. He used to forget people were around and do it without thinking."
"Yes, something that could have gotten him killed and did risk the lives of those he was with. If you remember correctly, it was still wartime. He should have been more cautious."
"I want eggs." She smiled and tapped her chin as if in thought. "Bacon, of course and sliced tomatoes if they have them fresh and not picked green. Oh, and I would love a cup of coffee. I'm getting quite addicted to it, almost as much as tea."
"If you are asking me to go by the shop and check again if it is open, ask me, do not pretend otherwise."
"If I wanted you to do that I would have said the only place you can get a chocolate latté is down at the coffee shop. No, a cup from the takeaway will be fine."
"When I get back we need to talk about what is bothering you. Your tears were not from… happiness." He tossed his robes back on the foot of the bed and looked down at his waistcoat. "I was not planning on going out."
"It's cold out, you can't very well go like that, or walk around London dragging a warming spell with you."
Hermione left the bedroom and opened the hall cupboard, pulling out a man's cardigan and holding it out to him. "This will be warmer than nothing. I think it will fit."
Severus looked at it with a scowl, and then brought his eyes up to look at her face. "I shan't need it. The shop is close."
"Have it your way." She shrugged and put the jumper back on the hook. "Ask them to double wrap. It's getting colder."
"Climb back in bed and cover up until I return," he said, avoiding her eyes as he left to collect breakfast.
She found her flannel pyjamas, shivering as she dressed, then made a quick trip to the kitchen to pound on the radiator until she felt the first weak hint of warmth. Running back to bed, she jumped under the covers, and waited until Severus returned to spread out the containers of food. She sat with her back against the headboard, and watched as he fidgeted uncomfortably in her bedside chair, picking at his food with his fork.
"If you want to leave, you don't have to stay. I am quite alright."
"We should talk."
"You have been spending all your time between me and Abby. I am sure you have things to do. I am quite capable of taking care of myself. Ginny stopped in at the hospital yesterday. She said she would do my shopping and drop it by. What else do I need?"
"Hermione, you were … despondent."
"Hormones," She dropped her eyes to the coffee to avoid looking at him. "As you said, it has been a long time since we have been together."
"Have you moved on?"
"It's… not that simple, Severus. Your own words."
"It is a simple question. One that demands a simple answer."
"I love you."
"That was not my question."
"I know, but for now it is the only answer I can give you. I do love you. I think I always will. But…have I moved on? I don't know. I have tried. I won't lie about it…I tried to … but each time I tried I couldn't." She looked down at the blankets, pulling them into a heap and laying her head down on them. "I want to sleep. I want you to go now."
"Do you want me to come back?"
She rolled to the side, squeezing her eyes shut, not answering. Hearing his footfalls leave the bedside and the door open and close in the sitting room, she began to cry. How could she explain to him what she did not understand herself? All she knew was that she did not feel whole, did not feel she had finished what she needed to do.
Perhaps when she finished school, she thought, or perhaps when she made enough money to make her own way. Perhaps when she could sleep the night without nightmares and forgive him for the hurt that was still so raw.
