Hermione was lounging in her bathtub as the darkened fingers stroked her hair, and the brush tugged at the curls. She breathed and lifted her leg out of the milky water. The warm chuckle filled the room as she exhaled.
"Granger, when's the last time you actually relaxed?" Blaise inquired.
"Months," she sighed. "Tonight was horrible."
"I imagine. You sounded pretty shook in your floo," he murmured. Zabini twitched his nose and released her locks. "You know, this won't end here."
"I know," Hermione voiced and shifted in the water.
"As your emotional buffer, I have to request you stop torturing yourself. He's never going to admit his follies as long as you still hold on."
She glanced back as her brows tightened. "Then what? What can I do that will stop this void from consuming me? It's been six months, and I still feel so empty."
Blaise climbed off the stool and sunk next to her, meeting her eye-level. "What I'm about to tell you is going to hurt."
She bit her lip and nodded.
"You need to move on, and he needs to see it. Only when he knows you're not obtainable will he reconcile with his beasty and admit his own faults."
Hermione swallowed and waved her hand from the water. "And what? He isn't likely to jump for joy nor bust down a door and demand I come back. There's no true answer to this."
Blaise exhaled and touched her cheek. "No, there isn't. He rejected you, and when a werewolf rejects his compatibility pairing, it ruins both of them. You have to lick your wounds and share your pain with someone else."
She let the one solemn tear fall. "I know."
Zabini leaned over the rim and scowled. "Granger, tell me, what are you hiding from? You were so quick to accept his request as an immediate failure."
She sat up and drew closer to him. "I ran through the moments in time that I failed him, Zabini. From the moment I allowed my weakness to dictate our intimacy. I allowed him inside when I should have kept the barrier stronger. I told him about what happened with Nott."
Blaise touched her face, running his thumb over her cheekbone. "From the smell of disdain and shame, I can get the gist of why this is difficult."
"I chose myself over another life and again replicated that with Severus by allowing my wants and desires to overtake my duty. I keep repeating these destructive patterns. I'm better off alone," Hermione sighed.
"No," Blaise murmured. "You keep asking for a lifeline, Granger. Snape is many things, but we all know he's not capable of handling emotional delicacy well. He masters the art of protecting those he cares for, but tending to wounds of emotional wars has been a searing flaw of his."
"I opened the door, and he knew permanency meant more than a bite. I know he's a coward about love, but I never thought he wouldn't fight for it," Hermione breathed and met his eyes.
"Do you trust me? We've been working in proximity and under the agreement to always be honest, even if it hurts. I've never lied to you, even in jest. Do you trust me?" Zabini questioned.
Hermione rocked her head as she retained his eye contact. "Of course."
"Do you trust me to help you with this?"
Her lips thinned, but she nodded.
"Then let's go to bed," Blaise said before standing.
"I'm not shagging you, Zabini," Hermione glowered as she crossed her arms.
The werewolf snorted and reached for her purple towel. "Not tonight. Tonight we're just going to sleep. Tomorrow we'll shag, and you'll enjoy it. It won't be the intimate shit you're used to, but if you trust me, it's going to serve a purpose."
"For you, maybe," Hermione spat.
"You said you trusted me. Do you want to get over this void in your life that he left you with? It's been six months, Granger. If you give me a chance, I have a path to fix this."
Hermione breathed and stood up before climbing from the tub. "Fine, but just so you understand, this isn't going to be a prolonged affair."
"Never planned on it," Zabini snickered as he wrapped her in the towel. "Believe it or not, I actually know what I'm doing beyond my cock, Granger."
"Sometimes," she smiled.
He kissed her hair and sat her down on the toilet before ducking to her level. "I have watched you for years be the strongest, ferocious, tenacious witch while keeping others at arms' length. You've held contempt for those that were willing to break down your walls and then grant them salvation for however long they can stand in your flames. It's time to spill your secrets; the fires will burn more suitably if you will them."
"Secrets? To you?" Hermione's cheeks darkened at the lingering question.
"Yes, to me. I'm not the long haul for you. You've relied on me to steer you on the paths needed for our professional ventures, but now I'm going to show you how to survive a werewolf's world. You know us, you know our emotional turmoil, but you've never given it a microscopic investigation. It's time if you really want to survive, then you have to learn to be a wolf, not a dog."
Hermione scowled as she tilted her head. His words made more sense than she thought they would. How long did she spend at the helm of this adventure without truly taking ownership if its change to herself? The bumps and gruesome scars that emotionally tore at her. It formed her into something not quite human but not quite werewolf. This mash of being pulled in two directions. The grey area.
"All but the furry stuff?" She smiled.
Zabini chuckled and nodded. "All but the furry stuff, Hermione. I promise you will feel much better after you let it go and accept that you're part of this world, not just the moderator."
"Okay," she sighed and tugged on her towel. "If you believe this will work, then I'm on board."
"You lied to me," Severus sighed as he paced his sitting room.
Harry twitched his nose. "I know."
"You realize tonight was a monumental disaster?" Severus stopped and breathed.
Harry shifted on the sofa and grimaced. "My wife is quite ticked."
"As she should be. Hermione was quite upset."
Harry scowled at the werewolf, who was almost drawing a line in the carpet with his pacing. It was concerning, and he couldn't ask Hermione what to do. Harry licked his lips and breathed.
"What is so wrong with accepting the end result, Severus? We all heard how much you truly love her," Harry voiced as he scratched his face.
Severus pivoted and straightened his form. "You weren't listening. I could be the worst thing for her."
"I just think you're doubting yourself. Just go over there tomorrow and talk it out. You left things so raw, and she was begging for you to hold out your hand. She's crying out for you just to make a choice," Harry grumbled as he raced fingers through his hair.
"I made a choice," Severus hissed.
"No, you ran," Harry retorted with a glare. "We know how hard this is for you. Likely me more than anyone with how much we've talked about this. You need to tell her the truth; you're scared to be someone's everything."
"Bullshit," Severus snapped.
Harry snatched the cigarettes off the table and tossed them at the werewolf. "Not bullshit. Valid and true that you've ran from here since the beginning! It wasn't until she opened the door that you even explored the concept. You knew what you were investing in from the moment you saw her. I know because you've spent months telling me."
Severus pulled one out and lit it before speaking. "It serves no purpose."
"It gives you the closure you and her need. Spend the morning explaining yourself and let her release you of your regrets," Harry insisted.
Severus puffed and paced and puffed and paced. He was right; there was no doubting after their conversation at the Burrow that there were many things left unsaid. She refused to see why this was a dark spot in their otherwise beautiful romance. He refused to see the sun in the window because of the chance of rain. It was difficult, but no one else could mend such a broken connection than them.
"Fine, tomorrow I will," he nodded and moved to the kitchen.
"Where are you going?" Harry called out.
Severus yanked out some bowls and cookware. "I'm making brownies," he grumbled.
Harry left him to it and soon exited the home. Severus was sure he had his own fences he had to mend. Lying to someone you love or withholding truths was a recipe for disaster. He had to start somewhere.
Severus Snape was not excellent at apologies. He knew this from a young age when Lily cried about ink getting on her sweater, and he offered his own in exchange. Sure, the gesture was politically correct, but it was only to prevent her from crying further. He only found out later that it was her grandmother's and it was a sentimental item.
Getting the ink removed wasn't an issue, but the damage of his disregard was the first realization that he wasn't normal. It was a sweater, nothing more. To him, the object was a ratty item with little value, and he cared less for it than his own, which she should have been happy to wear. Though not pivotal at the time, glancing back at the past, he realized just how little he cared for sentiments.
Approaching the door, he situated the bag and rolled his neck. He halted his hand and breathed. What was he doing here? She didn't want him here. He had to try something, right? Harry had rarely led him astray with the foundation of the proper family and emotional connections.
Knocking three times on the door, he breathed. She could indeed curse him to the spot, but that wasn't truly her way. She would be courteous and give him the moment to settle his brain enough to speak. It was what was written in his pocket that made him nervous. He spent so much time reflecting and hashing out his feelings. He had fallen asleep with the quill in hand.
Severus knocked again. Four by count. Inhaling, he shifted on his feet and waited.
"Keep your knickers on, Potter," A voice poured from the door opening.
Severus's eyebrows raised at the person to greet him.
"Oh, morning, Snape," Blaise smiled as he rubbed his bare chest. "I don't think she said you were coming over."
Zabini was in boxers and smelt of Hermione. They said nothing as the werewolves looked each other over. It was the calm before a feral grapple. The challenge from the younger werewolf was enough to cause Severus to bite his tongue.
"What does Harry," Hermione paused as she rounded Blaise, and her smile dropped.
Hermione was in a giant green t-shirt and shorts. Her hair was mussed, and Severus couldn't even halt the sneer that developed at her smell. Disgusting. Putrid. Vile.
"Seems I came to the wrong conclusions," Severus hummed and set the bag down the stoop and clenched his fist.
Blaise grinned and waved. "Toodles," he voiced.
Severus growled, and before he could stop himself, he let his fist fly and knocked Blaise backward to the floor. The door flung open just as Severus turned to leave. He was about to launch into a full-speed walk when a rough grip stopped him.
"What is your problem!" Hermione cried as he whipped around.
Severus raised his finger at her, but she batted it away.
"I mean it! What the fuck, Severus?" She growled as they stood on the sidewalk in front of her flat.
"You shagged him," Severus hissed.
"So what? You shouldn't even care because you don't want me. You can't expect me to just be normal after what we went through," Hermione snapped and stomped her foot. "You have no right to dictate who I can and cannot be with because you don't want me."
"I never said I didn't want you!" Severus snarled.
A few cars passed by as Hermione stared him down. "Well, that's a shame for you, isn't it? It doesn't mean I have to live my life waiting for you and your issues," Hermione exhaled as she shook her head.
"You cannot be happy with him," Severus grimaced and gestured to the werewolf sitting on the stoop.
"As content as I can be without you," Hermione smiled and breathed. "I'm not going to wait forever, Sev. I can find ways to happiness like I have in the past, and I'm tired of hiding behind shame or unworthiness."
Severus's glare was morphing into a pained pout. "Are you seeing him?"
"No," Hermione snorted. "But he's helping me get over you."
"Get over me how? Shagging is a poor cure," He spat.
Hermione crossed her arms and shifted to leaning on one hip as she arched an eyebrow. "Well, at least I'm not hiding in my dreary home and wondering why I wasn't good enough."
Severus, grab your courage, and be a werewolf. Isn't it tiring to be such a stubborn human?
Snape tightened his jaw and raised his nose higher. "Good day, Miss Granger."
With that, he pivoted and marched off, turning down the alley. However, he wasn't headed home, no. He was going straight to the source of his vexed plan. Harry Potter was about to receive the most scathing report of his life.
Author Notes: Do you all find it interesting that it just seems like that was a setup? Hmm... more soon =)