A/N: So... The past few months have been crazy, and I had to set aside this story for a while. I hope it wasn't too long for you to forget the past chapters! ;)
Thank you so much for the reviews, let me know what you think about this one :)
When Hermione Granger woke up that morning in the Gryffindor girl dormitory, something had irrevocably changed within her. And, though her lips still felt tingly, she knew it was not because of the kiss.
She had kissed other people before. Viktor Krum, whenever they could get some privacy… though soon she had realized that the physical attraction and the foreign appeal were pretty much the only thing they had in common. It had been very nice to feel seen and wanted, specially since there were so many beautiful girls around that year, from both Hogwarts and Beauxbatons, and still, the quidditch star and Tournament champion had chosen her. It had been the same with that beach waiter that she had met briefly during her vacation in France, though at least this one had started the conversation asking her about the book she was reading and confessing he was a bookworm as well.
Of course, with Ron, things had been the opposite. In this case, her long, deep affection towards him had been the primal cause of her actions, instead of shallow or superficial attraction.
But with Snape, it had been radically different.
She had never thought of the Professor as a handsome man, though she didn't understand why everyone picked on his looks so much. To her, they were just a physical reflection of his inside… different from anyone else's, darker and intriguing.
And of course, up until a couple months ago, she had believed him to be a cruel, vengeful Death Eater who had been responsible for the traitorous murder of Albus Dumbledore. And yet, she reminded herself, that story had never settled well with her, as if deep down there was this inner knowing that it couldn't be right. But even so, she clearly had felt no affection whatsoever towards the man.
So what exactly had created this connection between them that felt so much stronger than anything she had experienced before? A connection like lava from a volcano, slow, burning and relentless, changing her entire inner landscape, shaping her into a new being. Had it, like lava from a volcano, always been there, buried deep down, awaiting the moment to emerge and change it all?
Hermione didn't have those answers but she knew this. What she was feeling went beyond a physical, intellectual, even emotional level. It was almost spiritual, shaking her to her very core. And all that mattered to her now was to find out if he was feeling the same, though something deep down already had the certainty he did. With the other guys, she had felt insecure and anxious trying to figure them out. It's not like Snape was any easier to figure out, of course… the difference was that this time, she felt calm and confident. As if she had found the key to the future and there was no longer anything to worry about.
But of course, she wouldn't tell him this. She didn't want to scare him off so soon, coming on too strong with all those feelings and spiritual connections. For now, she would just settle to see him at breakfast.
She spent an extra amount of time in front of the mirror that morning, making sure she looked as good as she was able to without the effort being noticeable. Then, she took a deep breath, threw herself an encouraging smile, and rushed downstairs.
There was a calm, happy atmosphere at the Great Hall as everyone started their days with a nice, home-made breakfast, with owls coming in through the tall windows near the ceiling, dropping letters and newspapers for the day. But Hermione didn't care about any of it. Her eyes were fixed on the long-haired man at the other side of the room, pouring himself a cup of coffee in that very moment. Her heart stopped, and for a fleeting second she wondered if it had been a dream.
Seeing him there, in his usual spot at the faculty table, reminded her of the countless times she had seen him before, during the school meals, his dark impenetrable eyes wandering over the student's heads boringly, ready to scold any of them at the slightest sign of fun. Was the man from her memories the same whose hands had avidly grasped her waist just the night before?
Hermione felt the heat climbing up to her cheeks and she shook her head, forcing herself to appear as normal as always, as she walked to her usual spot next to Neville at the Gryffindor table. However, before she sat down, she heard McGonagall's voice calling her. "Miss Granger. A word?"
She turned her head towards the teacher's table, a sudden knot in her stomach. Snape couldn't possibly have told…? No, that was crazy. Why would he? She looked at him for information but his face was covered by his usual emotionless mask, and her heart shrunk even more. Granted, she didn't expect him to become cheerful and enthusiastic like the hormonal teenagers he despised so much… but was she not getting even a good-morning smile?
Hermione walked towards their table, breathing slowly to calm herself down.
"Good morning, Headmistress. Professors." she greeted them, trying to give them an equal nod despite her inner urge to stare at the man at her left.
"It was a good morning, Miss Granger." Minerva McGonagall pointed out, her eyes cold as steel as they pierced Hermione's. "That was until I received an urgent letter from the Minister of Magic himself." she said, and Hermione could see the open envelope still right next to her plate. McGonagall made a pause, watching her reaction, but Hermione looked at her with a baffled expression, with no idea of what was going on. "Apparently, last night the two aurors designated to be on watch duty right outside Professor Snape's house, detected the presence of someone there."
Hermione's heart skipped a beat. Oh god. This was bad.
"They notified the Ministry right away, of course, and were instructed to wait for reinforcements in case the missing Death Eaters had chosen to return. However, upon careful approach they realized there was no one inside the building. No one visible, that is." Minerva's lips tightened forming a thin, severe line.
Hermione began to feel dizzy and nauseous.
"Just when they decided that there was no need to wait for the reinforcements to arrive, the intruder apparated and they were left with no further information." the witch concluded her story.
Wait… So… they didn't know it was her? But then… why was McGonagall telling her all about it?
"Did they … find out who the intruder was?" Hermione asked, her voice involuntarily strangled with tension.
"They did not." Minerva said, and Hermione felt the blood returning to her limbs. "However, the Minister wrote me to inform that the tracking spell they had placed over Professor Snape's house, to locate the destination of anyone that might choose to apparate from it, had pointed them to Hogwarts Apparition point. Mr Shacklebot wanted to warn us of the possible presence of unwanted visitors around the castle grounds."
A tracking spell? How could she have not thought of that? Hermione lamented internally, trying to conceal her regret. She couldn't refrain herself anymore from looking at Snape, but his dark eyes seemed devoid of any emotion or affection, so much that he looked like a different man. It only made her feel worse and more afraid.
"Miss Granger..." McGonagall called her softly, trying to regain her attention. The girl looked at her with the most innocent face she was able to form. "I will only ask this once. Did you, or did you not return to Professor Snape's house last night?"
That was it. If she confessed, McGonagall would never trust her again. All she had work for so hard during all her student years would have been in vain. They wouldn't give her another chance. Another desperate glance at Snape confirmed that he was not willing to lift a finger to help her. She was on her own. Hermione felt her eyes starting to burn, and through the tiny space the huge knot on her throat allowed, she tried to justify herself. "Headmistress, please, you don't know the full..."
"A simple yes or no will suffice, Miss Granger."
Two solitary tears rolled down her cheeks as she lowered her gaze, nodding in an admission of guilt.
"Unbelievable." McGonagall hissed, livid with anger. "Miss Granger, you leave me no choice."
"Detention, in my office, now." Snape intervened at last.
Minerva looked at him, puzzled. "I beg your pardon?"
Hermione raised her eyes, hopeful, but the look on Snape's face was still cold and ruthless.
"What's the matter, Minerva?" he replied, arching an eyebrow.
"The matter is you're no longer a member of this faculty! And Miss Granger isn't a student either. You can't give her detention. And this is a school security matter, so I believe it's the Headmistress who should…?"
"With all due respect, Minerva, Miss Granger has not once, but twice, endangered my personal security and my private property. If anyone should have the authority to establish the consequences, shouldn't it be the one directly affected by her actions?"
Hermione was looking alternately at both of them, holding her breath. At this point, she was no longer sure whose consequences she'd rather face. McGonagall was probably about to expel her from the castle… but Snape was unknowingly holding her heart in his hands. Losing a potential career as a Professor was excruciating, but losing his trust again after how far they'd come felt like a knife to her stomach. He had barely been able to forgive her last night, and that had been when they didn't know that the whole Ministry of Magic had gotten involved.
McGonagall's eyes were wide with perplexity and confusion. She didn't appreciate the way Snape was undermining her authority, but he sort of had a point. Finally, she gritted her teeth and gave him a single nod.
"Very well. You can have the first conversation with her, but make no mistake..." she turned her cold gaze towards Hermione, who felt as if she had shrunk two sizes. "There will also be consequences from the school. I'll see you later in my office to discuss them, Severus." she instructed the Potions master, who agreed to her terms with a silent nod, before getting up from the table.
Hermione was so frozen that it took her a moment to understand that he expected her to come along. She rushed to reach him, noticing how everyone's eyes were following them, raising quiet murmurs, probably trying to guess what could have Hermione Granger possibly done to be kicked out of the Great Hall like that, escorted by the former Headmaster Death Eater no less. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as they walked the impossibly long way to reach the big open doors.
Only when they had left everyone behind and were alone walking towards the dungeon stairs, she dared to speak again.
"I swear, I didn't know they were keeping watch!" she whispered with anguish.
Snape threw her a disappointed side glance and kept his fast pace.
"I understand if you're mad but I'm sure there's a way we can fix this and..." he turned the corner towards his office, leaving her behind. She practically ran to reach him.
"Please, talk to me!" Hermione begged, feeling suddenly insecure and vulnerable.
But Snape remained mute as they reached the door and he retired the wards with an elegant hand movement. He entered the office, without even turning around to make sure she was following.
In that moment, Hermione's wounded pride decided that no matter how hard it was, she wouldn't say another word until he had the decency to look her in the eye and talk back. He owed her that much, didn't he?
So she stood there, right by the door with her arms crossed in a defiant gesture. After a painfully slow examination of his desk, Snape finally turned to her. When he noticed her expression the corner of his lips twitched imperceptibly.
"Why would it seem like you're the one who is disappointed?" he asked quietly.
"So you can speak." Hermione replied coldly.
"I can, and I did, did I not?" Snape said, walking towards her with his hands at his back. She arched an eyebrow, not following. "I believe I did warn you, of what would happen if you went rogue and betrayed McGonagall's trust again."
Hermione exhaled slowly and uncrossed her arms. "I know, but… you could have..."
"Have what?" Snape inquired, pausing his pacing and staring at her. Hermione looked away, embarrassed. But Severus was a patient man and he was willing to wait until the silence became so tense that she felt forced to spill her mind.
"Helped me, back there!" she said at last, shaking her head. "Said something to defend me, I don't know, just… I thought..."
"You thought after last night I would excuse your behavior and feel compelled to protect you." Snape completed her sentence.
Hermione was unable to look him in the eye as her cheeks turned alarmingly red again. Why was she feeling that stupid sting in her eyes?
"You were not entirely wrong." he added calmly. She looked at him again, confused.
"Though, make no mistake, I don't excuse your behavior… protecting you is exactly what I'm doing at the moment." he stated, and then she saw again how the corners of his lips curved ever so slightly.
"What are you talking about?" she asked, almost afraid to believe his words.
"What do you think would have happened if I hadn't interrupted Minerva when she was about to dictate your sentence?" he asked, as if he was asking himself the same question.
"She would have expelled me right away." Hermione muttered bitterly.
"Exactly. This way, she'll have some more time to cool off and think about consequences… I figured meanwhile, you'd rather deal with my consequences instead." Snape explained with a crooked smile.
Hermione observed him, perplexed. "Wait… So… you're not mad at me?"
"Oh, I was, when I first found out what you had done, last night. But I think I made my point clearly enough then, did I not? Now… let's just say I have other important matters to think about." he revealed, getting closer.
"Oh, God." Hermione let out a huge sigh of relief and a nervous chuckle. But then, she frowned again. "Wait! If you're not mad, then why were you so cold until now? You scared me!" she complained, taking a step backwards to keep a distance between them in which she was still able to think straight.
"I thought a healthy dose of fear would help the message sink better." Snape shrugged without a trace of guilt. "Hopefully, last night will be the last time you risk your life like that… for real."
"I'd say getting expelled from Hogwarts will suffice for that!" Hermione retorted, visibly hurt by his tactic.
"I agree, but you're not getting expelled, Hermione." he replied patiently, and despite her best efforts, the use of her name caused a wave of unexpected warmth through her body.
"Why are you so sure?" she asked cautiously, trying to remain focused.
"Because when I meet Minerva later at her office, I will tell her I was the one that came back to my house, to pick up some family things… that I asked you for Potter's invisibility cloak and that you were just covering for me."
"Do you think she will buy that?" Hermione asked, her heart racing with hope again.
Snape grunted. "I'll take it as a personal offense that you would doubt my persuasion skills, all things considered." Hermione rolled her eyes. "She will be mad, but it's not like she can fire me when I already quitted. Rest assured. I'll make sure you can stay at the school."
Hermione nodded, relieved, though upon his words she realized that if she was going to stay and he was not…. But she discarded those thoughts promptly. She was rushing into the future when they hadn't even discussed the present.
"You could have told me all of this earlier, though, outside the Great Hall. I was truly scared." she said, still looking at him with accusation in her eyes.
But for some reason, Snape had a hint of humor in his. Hermione frowned again, trying to discern what was so funny about that, and then something occurred to her.
"Wait… was this payback? For last night...allowing you to believe the purse was the gift?" she asked with disbelief.
"Perhaps." Snape replied with an innocent shrug.
"I can't believe it!" she shook her head, smiling despite her best efforts, equally mad and amused. After all, it didn't come as much of a surprise that he would retaliate… it had been too good to be true that he had just allowed her to get away with openly teasing him like that. She just wished the man had a better sense of timing…or proportion! But she couldn't really blame him, could she? It didn't took the brightest mind to see that he wasn't exactly used to joking around.
Snape shortened the distance between them and offered his hand in a conciliatory gesture. "Let's call it even." he suggested with a smug grin.
"And they call me insufferable!" she replied, shaking his hand with a reluctant smile.
Snape smiled back and softly pulled from her hand.
That was all it took for Hermione's anger to vanish as if it had been cleansed by the most potent scourgify charm.
In it's place, a quickly increasing nervousness and sudden heat. Last night, Snape had caught her so off guard that she hadn't had time to process what was going on until it was already going on. But after a whole night of reminiscing, the anticipation was eating her alive. She was still not entirely sure if it had been a momentary madness that he would regret the morning after, and given the other things they had just had to deal with, this was the first moment when she could actually look him in the eye, trying to find a clue of what he was thinking… and feeling.
Severus allowed himself to dive into her hazel brown eyes without any rush. There was no strategy, no legilimency techniques trying to open the secret passageways of her mind. In fact, for once, he didn't care about her mind. He just wanted to explore her soul, her very essence, for last night he had felt as if he had suddenly been swallowed by an entire ocean that he never could've dreamed of. An ocean of water both warm and refreshing, that had soothed his deepest restlessness while it also stimulated his numb heart. An enfolding salty water that had stung all his open wounds, only to clean them and start to soften and heal the edges. He had felt more in those five minutes than he had in the last twenty years. Maybe even before that. And, while all these sensations were completely foreign to him, almost making it hard to recognize them as his own, it had been a slap of clarity… as if some voice inside him had suddenly realized "oh, this was it."
How could he be so certain, and yet so utterly lost? It was like returning home to a place he'd never been before. Somewhere he couldn't remember, but at the same time, he knew he could never forget again.
And he had stumbled upon it almost by accident… His eyes darkened as he recalled the past two months. How could his entire world been turned upside down in such a brief span of time? And yet, how many things had happened, how impossibly long was the chain of events that had led to this moment? What were the chances that everything would happen exactly as it had?
In that moment, Severus realized that actually, it hadn't been a result of mere random chance. As the memories from the past two months flashed quickly across his mind, he understood something.
"I'm sorry." he murmured, his mouth suddenly dry.
"Good, I forgive you." Hermione said with a graceful head bow and a condescending smile meant to tease him again.
"No… I mean..." Snape cleared his throat, visibly struggling to get the words out of his mouth. "For everything." he said at last, looking down at her hand still in his, to avoid her eyes. He was suddenly feeling so unworthy of her gaze full of kindness and affection… He had pushed her away, over and over again, acting like a git, and yet, she had managed to find her way back with forgiveness and understanding. Whatever was going on now, wasn't at all random. It was thanks to her, and despite him.
It took Hermione an instant to understand what he was implying. When she did, her fingers involuntarily clutched his. To receive an apology from Severus Snape was just one tiny step below, in the impossible-things-that-could-never-happen scale, than being kissed by him. And somehow, it felt even bigger. She felt the urge to say something, to show him that she received those words with utmost care, while at the same time not making a big deal out of it, since it had probably already cost him greatly just to mutter them.
"Me too." she said at last, feeling that reciprocating the apology would be the best way of showing him they could be equals and there was nothing to be ashamed of.
Snape raised his eyes at her, both surprised and thoughtful. "I am not entirely sure you should be. Not that I'm condoning your fondness to believe yourself above any boundaries." he clarified immediately, throwing her a censuring glance. "But even in those scenarios… I can see how your heart was always on the right place."
Said heart fluttered when it heard his admission of fault. For so long she would have given anything to be finally acknowledged as the one who was right… specially by him, who for years had taken great pleasure in questioning and diminishing her. But the brief, shallow satisfaction of her pride was insignificant in comparison to the sharp pain in her heart. She no longer wanted to be right, or to beat him… she just wanted to understand.
"Where was your heart, then?" she asked quietly.
"I honestly don't know." Snape replied truthfully, more to himself than to her, his gaze still absently looking at memories she could not see. "I wasn't even sure I had a functioning heart anymore. But…" his eyes found hers again, all his attention suddenly focused on the young woman standing right in front of him.
With her hand still on his, he took them both to his chest, placing her palm over his sternum and covering it with his own.
Then, he stared at her in silence, as both of them felt the unmistakable, rhythmic pulse of an alive, very much functioning heart, beating against his ribs.
Hermione felt a sudden wave of gratitude rushing over her. How much had that heart endured to be right there, under her palm, keeping his owner alive through loneliness, pain, loss, torture, war, and even death itself?
It was, without a trace of doubt, the bravest heart she had ever encountered. One that deserved the entire world's recognition, and yet, would probably never get it. Oh… but it would get hers, and she decided in that moment that she would make sure it was enough to make up for all the rest.
She retired her palm from his chest and without a single word, she threw her arms over his shoulders and hugged him tightly.
Snape's arms were rigid and slightly elevated on both her sides, as if he wasn't sure what he should do with them. He was afraid that if he held her now, he might never let her go. His last defensive barrier shook like a solitary dry leaf hanging from its branch against the winter's wind. Last night, he had been the one to take the lead. And as deep and transforming as the kiss had been… it had also responded to a physical need. It could always be attributed to instinct, biological impulses. But the way Hermione was hugging now held no other intention but that of requesting permission to enter his soul.
If he surrendered that final barrier… there would be no going back.
But as his entire life flashed before his eyes in a second, he realized… there was nothing worth going back to.
His hands pressed Hermione's spine, bringing her even closer as he slowly let out the air in his lungs, as if allowing the ghost of his former self to finally escape his body and fade into the warm morning air.
And then he inhaled her scent, and it felt like the first breath of a newborn self taking in the taste of the whole world's possibilities.
Hermione noticed his subtle shift and she tried to move away to look at him better, but he was nowhere near ready to let her go. So he lowered his head, pressing his forehead against hers, his eyes still close, trying to carve every tiny detail of this unique moment in a place where not even the most expert Legilimens in the world could touch it.
She breathed very slowly, understanding the unspoken relevance of this connection. She feared that the tiniest move could shatter the delicate atmosphere, but at the same time, she felt such an intense pull towards him that the inch of separation between their lips was rapidly becoming unbearable.
None of them moved consciously, and yet, a mysterious gravitational force ended up causing a small spot of collision. Hermione let out a soft whimper, struggling to restrain herself from the pressing urge to allow her body to take control again. Though her eyes were closed, she could feel Snape's smile and almost picture his satisfied expression. What a show off.
Then, she suddenly felt the fingertip of his thumb slowly stroking her lower lip, demanding an opening. She obliged, as she felt her lower belly turning to liquid fire by his gentle, authoritarian gesture.
And then, finally, Snape kissed her again. The moment she felt his wet, soft, exquisite touch, she let out a moan of relief and pleasure, her arms still around his neck pressing him closer. There were too many layers, as if not only the clothes, but the flesh itself was getting in the way of the merging union she felt with him at that moment.
But to her despair, Snape's last night's fiery passion had apparently turned into an excruciating desire of savoring every spot of her lips with cruel lentitude. Every gentle slow stroke of his hot tongue was torture, as it amplified her sensations to almost driving her insane. Her body demanded more, and now, filling her with the crazy urge to cry out and beg for something, even if she wasn't entirely sure of what.
Snape, on the other side, was determined to not leave a single stone unturned. After so many years of disinterest and neglect towards his own needs and wants, he had miraculously found someone who triggered every primal instinct within him… and, as he did with any important matters, he intended to take his time to study the phenomena thoroughly. He wanted to explore every option, every sensation, every scent and flavor of this extremely alluring woman in front of him, unwilling to miss a single one of them in some sloppy rush to get to the finish line.
Also, he admitted to himself, witnessing the effects that his slowness was having on Hermione was quite rewarding itself. He had never been the object of such desire before, and feeling her body trembling with repressed need between his arms was definitely enjoyable. He could tell by the intermittent way she moved her hands that she was struggling to keep control of herself, fighting between the urge to let go and the effort to remain in place. He felt this secret, mischievous wish to see how far it would go, how much she would be able to endure before snapping, either with anger and frustration, or with a desperate plea. Picturing the second made him harden immediately.
And Hermione felt it. Her hip responded with an involuntary spasm to grind herself against him. She felt a wave of different, much less pleasant heat rushing to her face. What must he be thinking about her? That she was some sort of desperate animal? For a second, she remembered that the man had known her as a decent, model student for years… Hell, she had known herself as that as well! And yet, there was always this other part, one she had never allowed anyone to see, full of impulsive wildfire willing to consume everything within its reach… She was a Gryffindor after all. She had tried to repress it, thinking it was wrong, inappropriate and embarrassing, and yet now it was rapidly claiming its power and getting out of control. She needed to get a grip on herself or he would end up thinking she was disgusting.
Hermione broke off the kiss, turning her face to the hollow of his neck, trying to regain her breath and some clarity. Snape let out a small grunt of protest, but his hand cradled her head there, in a gentle embrace, enjoying the chance to slow down his racing heart and gaining some more leverage.
"How's your neck?" Hermione whispered, moving away a little to look at the skin beneath her cheek.
For a while, Severus had forgotten all about his illness. It made sense, of course, given what he had discovered the night before. But after a brief hesitation, he decided he wasn't ready to share that with her yet. He wanted to be able to enjoy this moment as it was, without any added complications ruining the exquisite pleasure of it all.
"It is fine. How is yours?" he answered casually.
"Mine? Good… Why wouldn't it b...oh my god." she shivered when she felt his passionate kiss on the side of her neck, his hand removing her thick curly hair to get a better access.
"Hmm?" Snape hummed, amused by her reaction, as his mouth traced a slow burning path from the spot behind her ear all the way down to her clavicle. The mere sound of his baritone voice vibrating against her skin lit her on fire. Hermione let her head fall back, her knees weakening so much she felt she was going to end up in the floor pretty soon. But Snape's other hand was firmly supporting her lower back, making sure her trembling wouldn't move her away from his reach.
The intensity of her sensations as his lips went below the brink of her clavicle made her involuntarily flinch, almost ticklish. Once again, his hand on the back of her head gently pulled from her hair to regain access. But when it did, Hermione's clutch on his sleeve caused it to roll down, leaving his left arm uncovered.
Snape immediately stiffened, and she felt the air of his sharp inhalation on her skin. It took her a second to understand what was wrong, and yet, she was faster than him when he tried to cover it again, stopping his hand.
"Wait." she said, opening her eyes. He was giving her a warning glance, but she ignored it, and grabbed his left wrist, moving it away from the back of her head to get a better look.
If there was anything that could have turned him off in that moment, this was it. In just a couple seconds, all the heat in his blood turned to shame and an urge to ran away and hide. Why couldn't she just let it go? Severus pressed his lips and watched as Hermione traced a circle around the dark mark, barely touching his skin with the tip of her middle finger.
"How does it feel?" she asked with cautious curiosity, studying it closely.
"Numb." Snape grunted, uncomfortable.
"Does it hurt?" Hermione raised her eyes to look at him, concerned.
"Not anymore." he replied simply, but he could see in her eyes that she was going for a more complete answer. He really didn't want to discuss it, least of all with her. He had been enjoying himself so much a moment ago, watching amazed how the doors of a new promising world opened widely for him… now, this was like a cold slap of reality reminding him again that he could never leave the old world behind. But he could also understand her need for answers. He had to admit he would have done the same thing, if roles were reversed. "It used to. Then, when the Dark Lord was gone all those years, it was barely an itch, but enough to assume He hadn't disappeared completely. And later, as He grew stronger, so did the feeling. For the past two years it was constant pain, and when He summoned me would become incandescent."
"And now?" Hermione whispered, almost afraid to hear the answer.
"Nothing. At all." he said, and he saw the relief in her eyes. "I can't feel that part of my skin. Can barely feel your touch around it."
Hermione's gaze returned to the black skull and serpent. Her finger traced the contour again with an impenetrable expression, as her other hand kept his wrist in place, preventing him to pull away. And then, she did the unthinkable. She lowered her face and approached her lips to his skin.
"Don't!" Snape warned her immediately. "It's black magic. Don't touch it."
She stopped and looked at him again. She saw the fear, the pain, and the shame in his eyes.
"There's no black magic left here." she said quietly, but firmly, staring deep into his eyes. "Nothing that can hurt me, or you, anymore. He's gone, forever. It's over. All that remains are demons from the past. Please… let me send them away." she begged, her grip on his wrist finally loosening.
Severus knew that if he said no, she wouldn't insist anymore. He would be able to cover the mark, change the subject and leave this terrible moment behind. And yet…
He didn't say no. He didn't say yes either. He just stood there, looking at her in silence. What had he done to be worthy of this? His demons had been his own creation, their torture his punishment for his actions. He had made peace with the fact that he would carry them within forever. He didn't conceive another way. But was there?
Hermione awaited patiently for an answer that didn't seem willing to come. She could see dark spiraling storm clouds in Snape's eyes, loaded with torment and regret, longing desperately for the merciful release of thunder.
She couldn't stand it anymore. Knowing that she was risking a pretty nasty reaction, she lowered her face towards his arm all the same, and gently pressed his wrist against her cheek. She closed her eyes when she felt his accelerated pulse under her skin. She gave him a few seconds to have the opportunity to stop her, terrified as she would be if she were trying to pet a blast-ended skrewt... but he didn't. So, with utmost delicacy, she turned her face and kissed the mark.
At first, Severus didn't feel anything. He knew that Voldemort had hexed the carving so the skin would only respond to his magic, becoming numb to any other stimulus. But Voldemort was dead. He was truly gone. In that moment, Snape understood that it was him who had despised and rejected his own mark so much that he had completely detached his perception of it from his awareness. He observed mesmerized as the area regained feeling, being able to sense the pressure, softness and warmth of Hermione's lips as she gently traced a circle of small kisses around it.
And then, his heart straight up exploded in his chest. His movement was so abrupt that Hermione flinched again, afraid he was going to push her away or something, but instead, he hugged her as if it was the first and last time he'd ever be able to. She was caught completely off guard, realizing how the roles had suddenly shifted. Now, she was the one wanting to take her time and explore every detail with slow tenderness, and he seemed to be the desperate one. But Snape couldn't help it. He didn't want to waste a single extra second of his so far miserable existence being behind the bars of the prison he had so thoroughly built for himself. He had spent his entire life in a metaphorical and actual dungeon, almost unable to remember what the sunlight felt like… and now he could feel it in his skin, in his heart and soul, and he'd be damned if he ever let that go. Hermione's miraculous presence with him was too good to be true, but he decided he would make himself worthy of it.
Hermione could feel an electric current irradiating from him, something she had never felt before. It was as if his magic was becoming increasingly powerful, and enfolding her in its silent hum. Her rational part was mesmerized at the sensation, pondering what the possible explanation could be, but it only took her a few seconds to get carried away in the tidal wave, when he kissed her again, making her lose completely all sense of space and time and anything other thing than his demanding lips and eager hands on her waist.
On his side, Severus was feeling as if he was rapidly running towards the edge of a cliff, only a few feet away from free falling into something he would not be able to control. This was no longer about her body, though for Merlin's sake, the firm curve of her lower back and the promising land below were driving him crazy… But still, he would have been able to restrain himself from going there, thanks to his long years of practice in self-deprivation… if it weren't for his expanding soul, that was demanding a way out, out of him and inside of her, claiming her impossibly compassionate heart as its new rightful territory. He needed to be inside of her, and to feel her inside of him, and to just forsake any kind of stupid barrier between them both.
But as the edge of that cliff approached quickly, a flashing image stopped him. Him, standing at the front of a classroom, and her, listening carefully and taking notes of his explanation. For years he had been her teacher, a figure of authority and safety, and she had respected and admired him for that. What would she think now if he allowed his rawest impulses to run free and wild, as if he was some sort of predator? How would she feel, not knowing that this was the first and only time in his life that he had even considered the possibility of such release? The sharp sting of guilt pulled the emergency breaks on his rapidly increasing loss of control.
"What's wrong?" Hermione gasped, when he suddenly broke off the kiss and pushed her shoulders back with both his hands, regaining his breath.
"You… you didn't eat breakfast." Snape said the first thing that came to his mind.
"What?" Hermione asked, so perplexed that she thought she must have heard incorrectly.
"I took you away from the Great Hall before you ate any breakfast." he repeated, taking a deep breath and a couple steps back.
"I… don't care about breakfast right now." Hermione replied, confused and insecure.
"You should." Snape affirmed, turning around and adjusting his robes to hide the visible growth between his legs. "It is the most important meal of the day… or so they say. Your parents are doctors, don't they tell you that?" he continued, trying hard to make small talk to calm his racing heart and regain his cold mind, as he aimlessly paced across the room.
"Not anymore." Hermione murmured, still unable to understand what was happening. Had she done something wrong? Was this about the mark? She had thought it had been a good idea, but maybe his kiss had just been a distraction tactic to make her stop. He was clearly trying to stall her now.
Snape turned around again, from a safe distance, intrigued by her answer. "What do you mean?" he asked, noticing her bitter tone.
"My parent's don't tell me much these days." she confessed, feeling suddenly sad and lost. It was bad enough to be unexpectedly rejected by him like that, but having to discuss such a painful matter at the same time was overwhelming.
"Are they mad at you?" he tried to guess, figuring that the muggle couple were probably not extremely delighted about their daughter dropping off school and going on the run to fight some dangerous criminal.
"They don't even remember me." Hermione revealed, shaking her head. "I had to keep them safe." she explained simply, throwing him a meaningful look.
And then, he understood. He stared at the young woman in front of him, barely holding his scrutinizing gaze. It didn't take it for her to tell him the specifics, for by now he already knew they were similar enough for him to accurately guess the main point. Hermione had erased her parents memory, giving up a lifetime's worth of love and protection precisely due to her own love and protection towards them. An impossibly selfless sacrifice, something that was quite familiar to him. And, as himself, she had kept it a secret, instead of seeking everyone's approval and praise on her courageous decision. He wondered if McGonagall or anyone besides her two dunderhead friends knew… and then he felt a wave of renewed anger towards those morons, who were apparently pushing her away even after she had sacrificed everything to help them.
"That's why you snapped." he murmured, suddenly realizing something.
"What?"
"That day, with the time-turner potion, when I mentioned your parents… Bloody hell, Hermione. I had no idea…" his voice was strangled with shame.
"Obviously." she mimicked his usual tone with a sad smile.
"I don't know… what to say." he stammered, feeling like a fool. It was so unlike him to be at a loss for words, but there were so many emotions piling up inside of him, and that was also very unusual and confusing.
"It's really alright. You don't have to say anything. I know you understand." Hermione said softly, daring to take a step towards him again.
Snape's eyes narrowed imperceptibly. He wanted to get closer to her too, wrap her in his arms, but he was afraid that it would only lead to an unbearable temptation again, making him look as a completely insensitive git. "Please, let me get you something to eat. You can stay here, no one will bother you, and have breakfast while I go speak to Minerva, she must be wondering what's going on."
"Sure." Hermione agreed, not in the mood to argue or object to anything at the moment. Why did he seem so suddenly aloof?
"I'll be back soon." he assured her, as gently as he could.
"Good luck." she responded.
As he closed the door, he was able to see by the corner of his eye how she wiped a tear from her cheek. After hours of truce, and confirming his suspicions, the sharp sting of guilt was met with another physical sharp sting, alarmingly near to his throat.