Begone the darkness and the night, but what to do about the tears in a woman's eye.
He heard her crying.
Hardly crying. It was that sound women made when everything was 'alright'. Calm, but inside every fiber of their being was seething in anger. One touch on the surface and the volcano of emotion would drown you.
When they replay events that upset them in their head, with each time adding new details that cause them more grief. Idiots. Idiot women. The ragged breathing, the slow and high exhales, the sniffling of their noses. That sound.
He DESPISED that sound. He had been in arguments with women before and had never left them satisfied. Therefore he made the decision to not not argue with them at all.
This was different. This was Hermione Granger and he no idea what had upset her. What's more is that he was stuck with her until some bloody imbecile came down to rescue them.
The trouble with a crying woman was that she was inconsolable. Neither yelling nor commanding her to stop worked. She only stopped crying when she had squeezed every last drop of patience out of him. When he had begged for her apology until his lips went dry. When he admitted to being wrong on more accounts than necessary.
He was never good at admitting his mistakes. Therefore, he had not been good at conflicts or at understanding women.
Now Hermione, whatever she was doing in the dark, was doing her best to drive him mad.
She fidgeted, adjusting her cape around her. The last time he talked to her was minutes ago and he TOLD her that she would be cooler if she removed it altogether. Afterwards she stopped talking to him altogether.
Perhaps he had been too rude. His tone angry. He did mean to be kinder. It just came out this way.
He could try again. No. It would only make it worse. But worse than what it was now? One balling Hermione Granger sitting across from him in the pitch black room. He could try saying something kinder to her. No just shut up, shut your mouth.
"If you remove the cape, you would find it easier to breath...you know."
Silence. She didn't even reply. Had she heard him at all? Yes. YES. Her sobbing had stopped for a second. Now three. Bloody Lucifer he had done it.
And there it was again. That insufferable sound.
If she wouldn't talk to him, perhaps he would have to take extra measures. He looked into the void, imagining her image across from him. First those brown eyes, then the outline of her jaw. Those chocolate curls. Those... those lips...
Enough about the lips. Concentrate Severus. Yes. There she was. Now pull yourself in and listen.
There.
She was cursing herself out. Something about her dress... No.
Now it's something about Ronald. Git, bloody asshole.
Doctor appointment Tuesday at 9:15. Have to come at 9:00.
...see her without the dress. Make him pay... for something...
Lucifer, it's a wonder how women get anything done with the amount of shit inside their heads.
pay... bills on Monday.
Kiss... midnight...Severus
Wait. Was that a coincidence? An unexplored topic. A Kiss? What for would she want a kiss. And from him?
"Get OUT of my head," the shadow woman hissed. "What are you allowing yourself?"
Now she wants to talk. Gods. SHIT. Why did he look into her. Of course she noticed. She was not a bloody fool.
"WELL..." she prompted.
Gods, here it begins. The probing. That tone. He couldn't see her eyes, but he was sure they were staring at him. Just say something. No! It would only make matters worse. She had already noticed so it was pointless to ignore.
"I tried to find out why you were...crying."
"I was NOT crying!"
Now it continues. Denial of feelings. She probably wants him to convince her that she was crying which will cause her to cry even more. Then when it is his fault, she will blame him for her sadness. Those Witches.
Best get through the entire ritual of comforting the woman. Just get it done and over with so that they can enjoy the rest of the evening in peace.
On the other hand, she wasn't his lover. Why did he care for her feelings? She was simply a woman. A woman he worked with.
"You were crying...Jean."
He called her by this name. He had been for many years. Granger made him sound like her professor. Hermione made him sound like the rest of the Order. Jean...her middle name...was his. It was a fresh start. He hardly remembered how he treated her as his student, he didn't remember much from that time, but poorly enough that the sound of her name escaping his lips made her frown.
"I thought we agreed you wouldn't read my thoughts."
"We did."
"Then why did you do it? Read my thoughts..."
Don't say it. Just calm down Severus.
"You don't tell me why you are upset. You expect me to watch you wallow in your self pity?"
"I was not wallowing in pity, and if I was...it is none of your business. You wouldn't understand."
"I don't understand you...women. You want a man who reads your mind but when he does...you are equally upset."
Gods, just...shut your mouth Severus. Now she is going on about how incredibly judgemental and how all men are horrible. He was starting to think Eve was created by Satan to create Hell on Earth for Adam.
When are those blasted mechanics coming? How much longer would he have to burn?
Unless. No , he wouldn't. Unless he apologized. She was crying so hard that maybe this was the only choice. Just. Get. It. Done.
"Jean...I'm sorry..."
She stopped. This is a good sign. Now what was the next step? Right, just listening.
"Sorry, what are you sorry for?"
"For..."
What was he sorry for? Everything? No. Nothing? Still a bad answer. Ah, that's right!
"I'm sorry for... not listening to you and reading your mind."
She paused.
"You're not really sorry for that are you?"
No he was not. Then why was he apologizing she demanded? Women were definitely Satan's creation. Gods if he had known he would be stuck in an elevator with this demon, he would have never come to the party. All be damned!
"Bl- FINE...I'm NOT sorry. Is this what you want to hear? I have spent the past hour trying to figure out why you were crying and I am done with your hysterics. What do you want me to do to make you stop?"
"I don't want..."
"No, you do. You do! What do you want me to say?"
"I don't want you to say anything."
"Don't. Lie. To me."
"Don't tell me what to do."
"I won't bloody talk at all then."
"FINE."
"FINE."
Deep breaths Severus. Deep breaths.
he waited for an uncomfortable amount of time before resuming.
"Jean, you...know how ...I am...with feelings. I've never been good at them. Now if you...just help me understand why you are crying...maybe we can spend the rest of this evening waiting in peace."
He finished his sentences slowly.
She gasped and swallowed.
"Is this about me and something I said?"
"No," she stated.
"Then it is about the elevator?"
Silence. Okay this is progress.
"The elevator? That is what is bothering you then? It will be fixed if we just have pa-"
"It's not about that..."
Back to square one. Okay this is not too bad Severus, this is the most reasonable conversation you've had with a woman in years. Maybe Hermione Jean Granger is not so wicked after all.
"Then..."
More silence.
"Then...something about the bills? Ronald? He said something?"
She sighed. Of course it is about Ronald. Bloody Weasley. He must have done something again to fuck up their divorce arrangement. Forgot to pick the kids up? Didn't call her in advance to say he was out with that other woman?
"It's not about Ronald. It's about what would happen to Ronald...and me..."
"What would happen?"
"Well at the party, I was hoping...we...you haven't figured it out by now?"
"I may be trained in reading minds but not in interpreting them."
"I don't want to say it...out loud..."
"Is this about..." Severus stopped himself. Should he go there? Should be touch on that topic? He was already in deep waters, what could be worse.
"Is it about the Kiss?"
"NO, well why would you even think that ...I..."
Bingo! So it was about the kiss. The kiss she wanted from ... him.
Severus did not kiss. He had many women of course, but it was different. Sex was...nothing like a kiss. A kiss is intimate. Passionate even. What is a night of pleasure compared to the taste of a woman's lips. Those soft, delicious folds that every woman had. Not every woman's was tempting to devour or even try. He had never quite solved the mystery of why he wanted to kiss one woman's lips and never another.
He certainly had no problem with any other part of the act. It was just a release, an exercise even. But a kiss was something more.
She wanted his kiss. Strange and...and flattering. No one had asked for his kiss before. Some just leaned in and took it. Others he would force himself to give just to stop the woman from yelling. But here was a woman who asked for one.
He had never been asked before for a kiss.
This was almost absurd. So tempting, so, unusual. He felt himself pull towards her like a magnet in the darkness. What would a kids feel like from a woman who asks.
"You want a kiss then?"
"Not from you, no I...wanted it from..."
"From..."
From whom?
Severus broke his promise again, imagining Hermione, no Jean, now even clearer then before. Her breath, her perfume, her heat completed the image. He drank her thoughts, not appoligizing.
Then he understood. Of COURSE. From that bloody Ginger.
Ah, now it all made sense. The party, that coat she wouldn't take off. He would be there and she would catch him by surprise. Her coat- removed to reveal a ravishing dress. Just tight enough to show the gentle curves of her body. Those soft hands, seeking his shoulders. Her lips caressing his own.
She wanted HIS kiss...not mine.
What was that he felt? Anger? Jealousy? What on earth would be be jealous of. They had been married for so long before their breakup; two childhood sweet hearts. The pain of that first love gone for him, but not for her.
Then his own memories flooded back towards his own head. He was younger now, and his first love stood before him kissing that...Potter. All he could do was watch and turn away. That kiss that was no longer meant for him. She forgot and he never did.
Now it was happening again with Hermione and that Weasley. He didn't deserve her. And she was a fool for believing she could ensnare him back with her simple plan. That dress. Those breasts that shuddered with each crying breath. Those flushed cheeks, red from her tears. That need for comfort and familiarity.
Yes that need. He knew that need. It kept him up at night for monthes. He had remembered his first love, that pain of rejection scarring where he never thought he had vulnerability. And then her death. It was like his own. He could not forgive himself for years. He said that everything he did , it was for her and her alone.
That was a lie. It had not been for her. It was for himself. He had built himself a jail of his own making, torturing himself for his young and foolish choices.
Now here was anouther woman, foolishly making the same mistakes as him. She would have gone into that party, she would have kissed him and for a brief second- felt like it was alright. But the bloody bastard had already chosen anouther. And of course he would be flattered she flung herself on him. Respect her- he would not.
"Jean you realize, you would be making a mistake if you kissed him tonight."
"I do," she sniffed.
"Then... why are you doing it?"
"I've never been kissed on New Years Eve."
Fuck? This is what was worrying her? A kiss on New Years Eve?
"A kiss at midnight?" He repeated his thoughts aloud, not even stopping. "You think that is all you need to...feel better.?"
She breathed out.
"I don't know Sev. I just feel like...GOD...I'm so stupid for thinking it. I just feel like if I kissed him it would all be as before."
It was at that moment that Severus felt...warm. The space between them closing.
"You aren't stupid."
"No, but I feel like it."
"Listen what if I...kiss you tonight."
"You don't have to Sev."
"It is the least I could do...grant your simple wish."
"If you don't like it, you can always pretend it was Weasley."
Her heard her smile.
"I'd rather pretend it was you."
He paused. Then slowly moved forward, finding her likeness in the void. she guided with with her hands.
Her smell: the smell of tears and sweet fruit, and her hair. How intoxicatingly vulnerable and familiar. He couldn't see her lips, but he hoped they would meet his.
"It is your choice Jean, you know?"
"I know, I would like it very much if you... did it."
Just one kiss. And everything would stop. And she would be happy. And she wouldn't kiss that...he didn't even want to say his name.
He leaned closer, hands finding her shoulders and sliding down her cape. Her hands pressed into his chest, edging him closer.
One touch and that was all it took to melt him. But Oh...Gods...What a single touch can do.
His lips on hers, their heat and wetness colliding into his. Teasing him. A calmness instantly filled his body, a comfort that hadn't been there for a long time.
What was life if he wasn't living? If he couldn't treat himself to one moment of bliss. He pulled away. She held him close.
Again.
Her thoughts gave away the secrets of her body. He complied. Anouther kiss, more sure than the first. More of her. Now he could have a proper taste. Her lipstick, then her breath, then her sweet exhale all his own. She relaxed, opening and letting him in. His tongue finding his way into her needing mouth. Exploring every corner of her.
Oh Sev.
His name, on her lips was flustering. He wanted to give her more. Pulling her in close, hands caressing her...apologizing for everything he said.
Apologizing.
Had he known the power of this mystical spell he would have conjured it long ago. He would have felt the bliss of a woman's touch and melted into it.
Higher and higher. Until they reached the stars and their lights shined around them. Higher until they reached the skies and burst into a million pieces.
Oh but to be back in the garden of Eden. Oh but to be tempted by the list full Eve. He would have eaten every apple of temptation the Lord created if it meant feeling Jean's lips on his.
And what was that? The songs of angels? Gabriel's quarter of cupidons emerging.
Snape. Snape. They sang.
No these were no angels nor his Eve. He pulled away quickly.
In front of him, the Ginger demon Ronald and his bloody sidekick Potter.
"Hermione what..."
The two were lost for words, as was he.
"Hermione we came as fast as we could to fix the elevator. It turns out the Ministry wasn't receiving any signals on New Years Eve."
Hermione looked at them.
"What time is it?"
"Five to midnight, why do you ask?" The scarred brunette answered.
Hermione, no, his Jean returned to him.
"I think we're late for a very important event, don't you think Sev."
Gods, there it was. He pressed the button to the first floor, the doors of the elevator closing and all the world and its people disappearing.
And again she pressed her lips into his, not waiting for a moment longer. His lady's midnight kiss was her wish and Severus could not disobey.