Chapter 8.
Severus had told her, the Thursday before, that the following week he would have accepted her invitation to come inside her flat. However, he hadn't thought that the girl would have really taken his words as a promise and invited him over for dinner. Not that he minded, but it seemed to him too much too soon. He wasn't sure to be able to do it without messing everything up, even if in the end it was only a dinner with a friend. A friend… he now had a friend; something he had desired all his life and never had been gift with.
As usually, they had met at the bookstore and then moved to the cafè for a cup of hot tea and a chat. As the afternoon had progressed, nervousness had started to creep into his subconscious, making him talk less and less. However, if had read her correctly, even Hermione seemed a bit off.
"Do you want to have dinner with me, then?" she had asked at some point, her voice slightly unsteady and her lower lips trapped between her teeth.
He had watched her intently for some moment, trying to understand if she really wanted him at her place, and then had nodded his agreement. She had brightly smiled at him, her nervousness disappeared altogether, and his heart had warmed just a little bit more.
While exiting the coffee shop, Hermione had admitted to not being a good cook and asked him what he would have liked to eat so that they could go and pick it up. In the end, he let her have the final decision and she chose Chinese take away, so when they finally reached her house they had their hands full of bags with steamed dumplings, sweet and sour chicken, spicy king prawns, crispy spring rolls and other delicious dishes. He had never had Chinese food, but he wasn't going to tell her that, and he was curious about all the things she had wanted to buy.
"Welcome to Granger Manor!" she exclaimed opening the door to her flat. She kicked it with her foot and went inside. A light went on, illuminating the small sitting room and adjacent kitchenette. Hermione's flat was small but nice and looked very comfortable with its collection of books, an overlarge couch with cushions, a stone fireplace and rugs all over the floor. Moreover, it smelled of her and her scent was beautifully sweet and pleasant. "It's not much, but it's mine and it's home."
"It's nice." He only said, depositing his bags on the table and looking around. "I can easily recognise you in here…"
"Can you?" she asked pleased with herself, and at his nod she started opening the bags and setting the small table in front of the couch.
The food was good, even though the first taste of sweet and sour sauce had made him sputter like a Chinese Fireball. He had never eaten something so spicy. Hermione had laughed at his face, but he hadn't taken offence, he knew she never mocked him. Hermione was a kind-hearted girl, and he liked the fact that with her he could be himself, as much as he allowed himself to be. He would always make a face at her impudence but then silently laugh along with her.
They had been eating chocolate muffins in a companiable silence when she wiped her mouth and suddenly cleared her throat; he looked at her.
"There's something I haven't told you..." she said in a quiet voice avoiding his eyes while she nervously twisted her fingers in her lap.
"Such us?" he asked, curious about her suddenly agitated behaviour.
"I... I'm seeing someone." She declared staring at a spot of dirt in the blue carpet. "I don't know much about this person, but I like him. He understands me and listens to me and what I have to say... Like you, you know." Hermione explained and finally looked up at him who was watching her intently. "But I'm scared about all of this situation... I don't know if what I feel for him it's really true or if it's only the moment because with Ron everything is going so wrong…"
That, he hadn't expected. However, she seemed sincere about her feelings and her worries and beside her words, her eyes spoke volumes. They were bright and deep like pools of sweet caramel and shone in the light of the room. He had no doubts she cared for this mysterious man and he was contented if she found happiness with this man. Weasley didn't deserve her, but she had understood it too late.
"Does he feel the same?"
"I think so. He has told me he likes me and enjoys spending his time with me but... It's difficult. It's like he fears his feelings even more than I do."
"Keep exploring then. If you really like him and him you, then everything will fit in the end. However, you must talk to Weasley and put an end to this. What you are doing it's not correct to either of them, or to yourself."
"You told me to cheat on him just the other day!" she protested furrowing her brows.
"True, but I didn't really mean it. For the way Weasley mistreated you, he would deserve it. However, you are not one who makes people suffer only for the sake of vengeance. So, no. I don't think you should do things behind his back."
At his words her eyes changed, becoming downcast. He watched the veil clouding her gaze become thicker and he found himself wondering at her sudden estrangement.
"Maybe I already have."
"Have you?" he carefully asked, keeping his blank stare trained on her. What have you done, Hermione?
"No." she replied, after a long moment of silence, finally looking at him in the eyes. He read uncertainty and nervousness even if her answer had been direct and with an edge in her voice. She definitely was hiding something, but if she wasn't telling him about it, he was sure she had her reasons. He wouldn't press her; she would tell him soon. As if the right moment for a change in conversation had arrived, she leaped to her feet and went to a small cupboard near the TV screen. "Want to see a film?"
From inside Hermione took out a few DVD with different titles. He knew how a DVD worked but, as he didn't possess a player, he had never used one. He always watched films on his TV in the afternoon or at night as they helped him fall asleep.
"Not one with lovesick puppies drooling over each other before shagging the hell out of the other one, please." He said sneering and getting up to go look for himself over the titles. "This one seems good." He pointed out at one with a man in his fifties with a gun in his hand.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, why?"
"Well… the main character is kind of a killer…"
"Don't worry, I can take it." He told her with a small smile at the corner of his lips; he liked thrillers and action films.
The film was actually good, with a good plot and great special effects, and the actor's abilities were remarkable. They were half-way through it when something inside him moved. His eyes were fixed on the screen where the main character's monologue was unfolding. The man was giving them his scars-covered back, and Severus could feel his pain through his words like it was his own. In a way, it really was. Martin, that was the protagonist's name, was a killer exactly like himself. No matter what he did to redeem himself, he would always be an assassin.
His words echoed in his mind while he stayed petrified, unable to see and hear anything but those scars and the drips of water that descended on the man's back. Only when Hermione paused the video and her hand touched his wrist, was he able to look away and come back to himself. Her fingers on his flesh were warm and soothing and helped him relax a fraction.
"You okay?" she asked, worried at his sudden change but understanding of what she thought he was feeling. "You have scars too, don't you?"
"I do." Severus whispered in a barely audible voice. "Too many."
He felt Hermione move nearer and, for some reason he couldn't explain, he tensed again. However, her touch was gentle and delicate and so warm he was able to close his eyes and breath deeply. Her ringlets of hair were brushing against his flesh so lightly he shivered at the depth of warmth that suffused his insides. She moved a strand of raven hair out of his face, revealing his dark eyes, sharp cheekbones and large nose, and with a trembling fingertip barely touched his neck.
"You wear a glamour here." She said, her breath hovering over the hidden scars left from Nagini's bite.
"Yes." He breathed, his eyes still closed, and nearly moaned when the Concealment Charm was lift. That one was a horrible scar and he hated it. It wasn't the worse one, his back was mapped in thick and jagged marks and some of them sometimes still hurt, but he hated it for what it meant. Everyone hated him, everyone wanted him dead. Not even the Dark Lord, the only one person he had barely given reason to antagonise him, had in the end wanted him alive. His life was nothing; his life meant nothing. And as if she had heard his head screaming, Hermione's hands raised to cup his cheek.
"I'm glad you are here, Severus." Her voice said softly. Them she placed a kiss on his flesh, which made him quiver. "I'm really glad." At her words, his eyes fluttered open again and locked on her caramel ones, drinking in the truth he could read inside them. "Do you… do you still have the mark? Or it faded away?" she then asked looking unsure at his left forearm.
"It's still here."
"Would you allow me to see it?" she asked in a small voice, probably fearing his outburst, but it never came. He knew her intentions were not to hurt him and somehow, he had started to trust her.
"Are you sure?" he inquired, and she nodded mutely. Her tiny hands went to unbutton his cuff and proceeded rolling the fabric up his elbow. The horrible serpent with its skull was there, looking at him as if wanting to bite at him again, and he stood there staring at it with unmoving eyes. "It's nearly invisible, but I know you can still see it."
It's here, my pale flesh marked for eternity. It will never go away, and I'll never be anything but a Death Eater and a murderer.
"I can. Everyday." He sighed and clenched his first when a wave of anger against himself hit him squarely in the chest.
"Let it go, Severus." She murmured grasping his wrist and caressing his knuckles until he had loosened his fist. "You're allowed some weakness, you know. You don't have to be strong with me."
"This is who I am."
"You can be everything you wish to be here with me." She breathed smiling softly at him and never looking away from his eyes. He knew she had sensed the numerous scars he had on his wrist, the one he had inflicted on himself with a knife so many years before, trying to get the damn mark to go away, but she had chosen not to say a word and he was deeply thankful for that.
This is who I am: all flaws, only flaws.
"It will never go away."
"You know, we are more similar than you think."
With that, she rolled up the fabric of her wine-coloured jumper and revealed her own scar. It was deep and red, made from a cursed dagger, and carried that word he so deeply despised. Mudblood was carved on her white and otherwise immaculate skin and his blood started boiling in anger. In all the time he had spent with her, he had never seen it, not even when she had showed up at the bookstore with that so beautiful summer dress. Hermione, as himself, had her scar concealed.
Who did this to you?, He wanted to ask her but she just smiled and grasped his hand. Their fingers entwined tightly, and their arms touched connecting their wounds, their scars and souls. He felt whole, like he had never felt, and her smile was so beautiful he found himself intently looking at it. This amazing girl was his friend and cared for him. Her head rested on his shoulder and they stayed in silence for some time, both of them lost in their thoughts. Only after a while, Hermione gazed at him.
"Do you wish to finish the film?" she asked, and he nodded, finally calm and ready to get to end of it.
And so they did. Or at least, he did. Hermione had fallen asleep after some twenty minutes, her head still on his shoulder and her arms draped over his stomach. He couldn't remember ever experiencing something so heart-warming in his life, and when he turned his face to look at her, he was stunned. She certainly was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, with her long lashes, light freckles and rosy lips. Her lips… he looked at them for so long he lost track of the time. Only one thing he was sure of, he wished he could kiss them. And he knew he was an asshole, because as usual he wasn't able to appreciate what he had. She was his friend and here he was, wishing she could be something more.
When he moved a tendril of hair from her face and his fingers lingered on her skin, she stretched just a bit and opened her drowsy eyes and her lips curved upward.
"Severus..." she whispered in a low voice looking at him.
"C'mon sleeping beauty, it's time to go to bed! You're snoring!" he said in a light tone, taunting her with a grin on his face.
"I'm not!" she protested, gingerly giving a swat at his bicep.
"Yes, you are."
"Where's my Prince Charming?"
"I don't know. I can tell you where the Half-Blood Prince is, however. Is him okay as a substitute?"
"It's way better." She chuckled before closing her eyes again. "Don't you kiss me goodnight?"
He looked at her for endless minutes before picking her up on his arms and carrying her to her bedroom. The flat was small, so he didn't have any difficulty in finding her room. He gently laid her in the middle of the bed and lift the bedcovers all the way up to her chin. Only then, did Severus put a kiss on her forehead. Hermione's cheeks coloured, making her even more beautiful.
"Good night, Severus."
"Good night, sleeping beauty."