A/N: Omg, thank you so so much for all the encouragement! :) I'm really glad you enjoyed last chapter! I agree with those of you who said that it was too soon for a kiss (that's why it didn't happen yet, lol) but for some reason, I think a hug would have been even more intimate... something about being in touch with the other person's entire body always feels more intense to me than just kissing... but maybe that's just weird me! ;P In any case, I really appreciate your honest opinions!
PsychoPanda777, you're almost going to make me cry! T_T Your first review made my day! I truly hope the rest of this story lives up to your expectations!
And Lucyole, you cracked me up so hard with the healthy but delicious comment ;P thank you so much!
Now, I leave you with the aftermath... ;)
No. No! This couldn't be happening! Severus leaned against the door, struggling to catch his breath while the blood roared in his eardrums. No. No. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. Where was that damn time-turner when you needed it!?
Facts. He needed facts. Facts would calm him down. He began pacing back and forth around his office, his hands still shaking. Facts. Nothing had happened. He had stopped it before it was too late. Okay. Nothing had happened. He took a deep breath, his hands relaxing, though his heart was still trying to escape his ribs.
Nothing had happened, but how the hell had he allowed it to get that far? What the hell was he thinking?
That was the problem. He wasn't thinking. He had lost control. He could have easily blamed it on the alcohol, but he knew it was a blatant lie. There was no amount of alcohol in this world that could have caused such behavior on his side. He had been lying to Voldemort's face for years, risking his life every passing second in the Dark Lords presence. He had never told anyone this, for obvious reasons, but he had been experimenting on himself with small doses of Veritaserum, until he finally managed to master the skill of lying even when forced to drink it. His control over himself was way more powerful than any substance, magical or not.
But that was when he had a reason to stay alive. Now, he felt that he was losing himself. Once again, he cursed at whoever had done this to him, putting him in this pathetic position where he was doomed to become a pathetic man.
A man so desperate for some meaning, for some connection, that had ended up dangerously close to one of his former students.
A student he particularly disliked! Or did he? When Miss Granger had demanded a reason to justify his despise, all he had been able to come up with were reasons why he despised himself. Was the girl right, after all? Had he only found her disgusting because he found himself disgusting too?
What else was she right about?
Once again her words about the golden boy's father reverberated inside his mind. Had that really not been an hallucination? Had she insulted Potter's deceased heroic father, and godfather, to defend him?
Severus felt that he was about to be sick. With a swift movement, he grabbed the Firewhiskey bottle from the cabinet and threw it into the fireplace, where it shattered and fueled the flames in a roaring spiral of red and orange. He was done with that, for good.
There had to be an explanation. An explanation that beat the one threatening to form in his head.
Think, Severus. Think. He took another slow deep breath, and at last, he could feel some clarity taking over his turbulent mind.
The girl was probably just defending herself. If she thought that they were alike, then she needed to establish a narrative in which they were the good ones, and the rest of the world the cruel people who couldn't understand. If she got him to agree to that narrative, then he would have lost all rights to scold her for being a know-it-all. She wasn't trying to make him feel better, she was just covering her own back.
Okay. That made sense. He sighed with relief. But then his heart counterattacked.
That might be so, but then, why had she tried to comfort him after? Why had she touched him?
This was a person that blushed under any less-than-admiring comment from a teacher. Where had she gotten the nerve to break so many boundaries at once? That couldn't just be a logical trap for him to be unable to scold her anymore.
He recalled her brown hazel eyes, just inches away from him, shimmering like a summer field just before sunset. He recalled the feeling of her fingertips leaving burning trails on his skin, even if they were barely making contact. No one had ever approached him like that. Not even…
Oh God. Lily. He shook his head, quickly discarding those images. What was wrong with him? He had been faithful to his love for his friend, a love so strong it had literally followed him to his death and beyond… He had remained faithful to himself and those feelings even when everything else was lost, when his life was on the line, when that snake had already sunk its fangs on his neck. And now he had just almost betrayed all of that in a second, for Hermione. Freakin. Granger.?
An inner, cruel voice intervened in his mental monologue. "What does it matter? It's not like you had anything with Lily to be faithful to."
Severus was familiar with this voice, it had been his constant companion over the years. He sometimes indulged in its tempting self-torturing, but tonight he was too altered to go there. He needed to understand why. Why had he almost thrown away everything he had ever stood for?
What sort of power had come over him? It was the same powerful force he had felt two nights ago, when he realized Hermione had taken his feelings about Harry's visit into consideration. The powerful luring of allowing himself to believe that someone could care, truly care, about him. A force he was not familiar with, for he had only experienced it once in his life, and yet, it had shaped his entire being and path. No wonder he had been afraid when he felt it coming again.
But he couldn't. He just couldn't go through all of that again. He couldn't afford to believe that. There had to be another explanation!
"Pity" the cruel voice suggested. "The girl is too sensitive. We've seen it before, with her House Elves crusade. She has a soft spot for pathetic creatures. And she found the most pathetic being in the castle right now. It's probably just a savior complex designed to make her feel even more superior to the rest. Arrogance. Pity. Not love, you stupid idiot."
As crazy as it was, the voice remarks reassured him greatly. There it was. His logical explanation. One that fit into his story and his identity much more than this crazy ramblings that had taken over him.
Snape sat down on the green couch, suddenly exhausted. Even after figuring out the truth behind what had just happened, there still was some danger as long as his weak, starving heart was close enough to Miss Granger. A danger he was not willing to risk. He knew what he had to do.
He got up with a sigh and headed towards his lab. It's not like he was going to be able to get any sleep that night, anyway.
.
No. No. This couldn't be happening. Hermione was completely unable to leave her bed. Hiding behind the garnet curtains, she kept tossing and turning, even though she knew the sun had already come up a long while ago. Maybe she could ask a house elf to bring her something to eat… maybe she could do that for the rest of her life, and never leave this bed, and never have to face…
She let out a loud moan of regret, sinking her face in the pillow. What the hell was she thinking?
That was the problem. She hadn't been thinking. She had lost control. She could have easily blamed it on the wine, but she knew it was a blatant lie. There was no amount of alcohol in this world that could have caused such behavior on her side. She had been a model student for years, making sure she always did the right thing, had the right answer, never once turning an essay late. And then, during their year on the run, she had always stayed alert, controlling every step, making sure they were safe and on the right track, even when she was exhausted and terrified. Her control over herself was way more powerful than any stupid glass of wine.
But that was when she had a clear sense of what the right track, the right action was. When wrong and right, good and evil, had been as clear as black and white. Ever since she had gone back to retrieve Snape's corpse everything had turned into a blur. Learning his true story, learning what he had actually endured to protect them all, had completely crumbled down all her certainties and beliefs. There was no longer black and white, but an endless, indecipherable scale of gray that she was unable to figure out. Whenever she thought she had judged him too harshly, he would act like a cruel bastard again. And whenever she decided he was a lost cause, he would do something completely unexpected, like praising Neville during dinner.
All she knew was that, with each little piece of information she added to the mix, something inside of her was growing. A sense of recognition, a sense of kindredship, a magnetism... She was beginning to realize that Severus Snape was much more than she ever suspected… and she was mesmerized by the discovery.
But this admiration was one thing, and her inexplicable actions were a very different one. Why had she touched him? Why had she felt that need to get even closer? She hadn't been planning her actions… her body was just acting on its own. And she still had no clue of what it would have done next if he hadn't abruptly put an end to their meeting. She desperately wanted to believe that she only intended to be friendly and kind, but there was an insidious inner voice telling her that she was only fooling herself. Was it possible that she had really intended to…?
Think, Hermione. Think. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her shame enough to regain some clarity.
Maybe she was just lonely. Maybe Ron's rejection had unconsciously affected her more than she was aware of. Maybe she missed her family, and her friends that, despite what they said, seemed to be drifting away. Maybe she just needed to prove herself that someone could need her again… Yes, that must be it. It had just been an immature impulse, one she could easily get over. Nothing more.
As crazy as it was, that thought reassured her. That explanation made much more sense than the other one, threatening to form inside her mind. One that was daring to suggest that she might feel…
Hermione got up from the bed, suddenly determined. Nothing had happened. She hadn't crossed any lines… no matter how dangerously close she had been. And fortunately, the man had been drinking before so maybe his recollections of the night were blurry enough for him to doubt if he had misinterpreted her actions. She would act confidently, as if nothing had happened, and she would pray in her heart that he would ignore the incident as well.
With that resolution in mind, she went down to the Great Hall for a late breakfast. There was only a handful of people left there, and fortunately for her, Professor Snape wasn't among them. However, Minerva McGonagall was. She was sitting by Madame Pomfrey, rubbing her arm affectionately as the mediwitch shook her head, with her face buried in her palms.
"We'll find a way, Poppy, I promise." McGonagall was saying.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked concerned, getting closer to both women.
"Maybe Hermione will help." the Headmistress suggested with a hopeful smile.
"Of course! What can I do?" Hermione replied immediately.
"Poppy is worried that she won't have enough supplies now that Severus is gone." McGonagall informed.
Her words were like a hard slap to Hermione's face. "Gone?" she repeated, her voice suddenly hoarse.
"Apparently he was truly feeling indisposed yesterday. He came to my office this morning to let me know that he's not feeling well and that he had decided to return home to heal properly."
"I've been asking too much of him, I should have let him recover..." Madame Pomfrey lamented.
Hermione was hearing their voices far away, as if they were underwater, her own blood roaring in her eardrums. This was all her fault. How could she have been so naive as to think there wouldn't be consequences to her reckless actions?
"Well, Poppy, there were impossible circumstances. What matters is he has chosen to focus on his wellbeing now, which I find very reasonable, even if it leaves me with one less teacher for the upcoming year..." McGonagall pressed her lips together in a concerned gesture.
"So he is not coming back?" Hermione asked, her head beginning to spin.
"He quit his position, yes." the Headmistress nodded. "Oh, but that reminds me… He left something for you."
"He did?" Hermione's eyes widened. And then her heart stopped, wondering if Snape would have shared the previous night's episode with the older witch.
McGonagall took a piece of parchment from her pocket and handed it over to Hermione, that grabbed it so cautiously as if it was about to spontaneously burst into flames. She recognized Snape's spiked handwriting on the list of potion books.
"He said you would do well to study those if you want to pass your Potion's N.E.W.T." Minerva explained with an encouraging smile.
Hermione didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. But again, what had she expected? A heartfelt farewell letter?
"But… what about the healing potions…?" she said instead, trying to distract herself from the awful void in her stomach.
"He spent all night brewing in a last effort to provide me with some supplies. But at the rate we're using them, we'll be out of them soon." Madame Pomfrey revealed.
"As I was saying, maybe Hermione can help. She has been helping Severus lately, I'm sure she can replicate the potions with little effort."
"I'll do my best." Hermione promised, and both witches smiled with gratitude.
She sat at the table and poured herself a cup of hot tea, but her stomach was so upset she couldn't even bring it to her lips. The terrible guilt she was feeling made her want to scream. She knew perfectly well that Snape hadn't left Hogwarts because he was feeling ill. The only thing he was sick of was her. Her and her childish, stupid behavior. Did she really thought that they could just pretend it had never happened? Did she really believed that the fact that she hadn't actually kissed him made any of the rest any worse? She had made the man so uncomfortable he had ran away from the castle, for Merlin's sake!
It wasn't right. She couldn't leave things like that. Not only because there were injured people that depended on his brewing skills, which as much as she tried, she could never equal… but mostly because she knew Hogwarts was the safest place for the Professor right now, and she had no right to take it away from him. She needed to fix this.
"Professor… do you know where Professor Snape lives?" she asked to a very surprised McGonagall. "I need his address to send him a letter...to ask him for some clarifications on the potions." she quickly justified herself.
Minerva hesitated for a second, pondering if it was appropriate to give a teacher's private information to a student. Specially the most private teacher that had ever set foot on the castle. But as she had told Poppy before, the circumstances were exceptional.
"I'll write it down for you. Our owls will find it without any trouble." she said at last, and Hermione nodded with gratitude.
As the Headmistress took out a quill to write the words on the other side of the parchment, Hermione realized something. Yes, a list of books was far from being considered a heartfelt letter… But Snape never did anything without meaning. And the apparently harmless list held two important messages. First, that he did believe she could pass her exam, despite his mockery, and that he thought she was worth the exception in the official calendar. And second, and most significant… he was, for once, encouraging her in her study and providing her with more tools on knowledge. Which, after their conversation last night, she found specially relevant.
Forget about the owls, she thought in that moment. She would go fix this herself.