Chapter 16: Denial

Hermione trudged into the Potions classroom, stifling a yawn as she took her seat. Snape looked as exhausted as she felt, which of course, was only to be expected. Neither of them had gotten a decent night's sleep in weeks, fueled by coffee and adrenaline as they'd searched for their mysterious tormentor.

Now that the search was over? She could finally relax, though that didn't mean she'd be catching up on her rest anytime soon. Trying to sleep in a house full of excited Weasleys…

"I said four sprigs of arrowroot, Mr. Whitfield," Snape snapped. "Not three! 10 points from Slytherin."

Something about him was different today, though it wasn't his foul mood. Hermione watched him lower his head, black hair falling forward to shield his features.

He hadn't looked at her. Since the moment she'd walked in, he hadn't so much as glanced in her direction.

She kept an eye on him throughout the rest of the class, her consternation growing as he continued to ignore her. Finally, she finished her potion, waiting for the other students to trickle out before she approached his desk.

"Sir?"

"Miss Granger," he said, not bothering to look up.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Is there any reason why I should be?"

"I hid the map from you," she said. "I lied about what I was up to."

"Both of which worked out in my favor," he pointed out. "Under the circumstances…"

"I didn't want to lie. Really, I didn't. It't just… I couldn't have known if he was eavesdropping. If he'd heard me telling you about the map…"

"Miss Granger…" Snape sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I've already deduced all this. There's no need to explain yourself any further."

She hesitated, wondering whether she should press the issue. Deciding against it, she forced herself to smile instead.

"No hard feelings, then?"

"None."

Still, he kept his eyes averted, studying the slip of parchment in his hand. It was blank, but it didn't matter. He stared at it like it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.

"Sir…"

"Yes?"

"That day in your office… you know, when you tried to give me detention?"

His head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as they met hers.

"What about it?" he said brusquely.

"You don't think he told anyone, do you?"

"Ashwood?"

She nodded.

"Doubtful. At any rate, he's hardly a credible witness."

"Neither is Rita Skeeter, and people believe her all the time."

"Don't worry, Miss Granger," he said, his expression sour. "Your reputation remains intact. That said, I apologize for my behavior. I put both of us at risk for the sake of… well, whatever that was, it was stupid on my part. I should've known better."

Stupid? Hermione felt like she'd been slapped.

"You don't have to apologize," she said, her voice calm. "I regret my actions, too."

For a second, he almost looked stung. He recovered quickly, his features smoothing out into a mask of indifference.

"So we're agreed," he said. "It will never happen again."

"Agreed."

He nodded, lowering his eyes to the parchment. A silent dismissal? Probably, though Hermione wasn't finished quite yet.

"Sir…"

"What?"

"I need a favor."

His eyes flickered to her face again, his expression wary. "What is it?"

"Can I borrow a few potions ingredients?"

"I suppose so," he said, "though it seems my current stores have been tampered with. I've submitted an order for replacements, which should arrive later today."

"I can come by in the morning," she said. "What time should I meet you?"

"No need for that. Just take what you need from the storeroom."

She opened her mouth and then closed it, not knowing what to say. On one hand, she appreciated his trust. On the other? Tomorrow was the last chance she'd have to see him before winter break. Was he that anxious to be rid of her? It hurt her to think so, even as she chided herself for feeling that way.

"Thanks," she said as she turned to leave. "I hope you have a nice break."

"Same to you."

As soon as Hermione walked through the door, Ron pulled her into a massive hug. She hugged him back, grinning at Harry as he entered the room.

"Hey, can I get one of those?"

Memories flowed through her like water, her senses soothed by familiar sights and sounds and smells. Why had she ever wanted to leave this place? It felt like home, all the more so as she followed the boys into the kitchen.

"Hermione!" Molly exclaimed, hurrying forward to kiss her cheek. "I hope you're hungry."

"Starving."

Soon enough, the family was gathered around the table, digging into the most delicious meal Hermione had eaten in months. Molly and Arthur, Ginny, Ron, George, Percy, Bill and Fleur… Charlie had even flown in from Romania, his hair conspicuously longer than it had been the last time she'd seen him.

"So," Arthur said, serving up slices of ham. "How's Hogwarts this year?"

Ginny groaned. "Dreadfully boring. Can we talk about something else?"

"How about Quidditch?" Ron suggested.

This time, Hermione groaned, which earned her a sympathetic look from Harry.

"Let's hold off on that for a bit longer, mate," he said, "I want to hear about Hogwarts, too."

Honestly, Hermione didn't want to talk about Hogwarts either. It had been a rough few months, not helped by that last, awkward meeting with Snape. Why had he acted that way? After everything they'd been through…

"How are your classes, dear?"

That was from Molly, who served her a massive pile of roasted potatoes.

"Fine," she said. "I'm really enjoying Arithmancy this year."

Dinner passed without incident, filled with laughter and small talk. Like most Weasley meals, it lasted for hours, only ending as various family members wandered off to bed. Finally, Hermione, Ron, and Harry were the only ones left, talking quietly among themselves as they headed upstairs.

"I can't stay long," Harry said, closing the bedroom door behind them. "I mean, I'll be back to sleep here, but I told Gin I'd spend some time with her first."

Ron nodded, the two of them exchanging a knowing look. Hermione tried to ignore it, settling herself on the bed between them.

"So… did the map help?"

"It did," she told Harry, "the cloak, too."

"He was a Death Eater, wasn't he? That's what McGonagall told Mum."

"Yeah, he was." Hermione hesitated, swallowing a twinge of nervousness. "What else did Professor McGonagall say?"

"She said you saved Snape's life."

"Well, sort of. It's a bit more complicated than that."

"How so?"

She gave them a brief overview of the past few months, telling them about the mysterious notes without revealing their contents. She touched on some of the other incidents as well, explaining who Alain Ashwood was and how she'd finally caught him.

"You were in Snape's bedroom?" Ron shuddered. "Does he sleep upside down?"

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"I was just being funny."

"It's not funny," she said. "It's mean. Why can't you just…"

"Look, I'm sorry, all right? Let's not fight about it."

He wasn't the least bit sorry. She could tell by his sullen tone, his expression anything but apologetic. Still, she decided to let it go, watching the boys exchange another knowing look as Harry rose from the bed.

"You off, mate?"

"Yeah, I'll be back a bit later."

With that, he closed the door behind him, leaving the two of them alone.

"You have no idea how much I missed you." Ron said, wrapping an arm around her waist. He leaned closer, seeming to forget about their brief disagreement as he nuzzled her neck.

"I missed you too, Ron."

That was true, she realized. She'd been delighted to see him, happy to reconnect with people who felt familiar and safe. Even now, she felt that way, though that didn't necessarily translate into…

She lost her train of thought as Ron kissed her, his mouth hot and urgent against hers. It reminded her of the eagerness she'd heard in Ginny's voice on the Hogwarts Express, the anticipation she'd seen in Harry's eyes as he'd left the room.

Whatever that was? She didn't feel it. All she felt was…

Honestly, she didn't know what she was feeling. On one hand, she was tempted to pull away, make some excuse and put it off a bit longer. On the other? She just wanted to get it over with.

In the end, she chose the latter, telling herself that it was just a case of nerves. She hated the thought of disappointing Ron, and besides…

Unbidden, an image of Snape flashed through her mind, dark eyes smoldering as he lowered his mouth to hers. The way he'd made her feel…

It didn't matter how she'd felt. Snape had made that abundantly clear, dismissing it as a stupid mistake.

"So we're agreed. It will never happen again."

"Agreed."

That was the end of it, shutting a door that should've never been opened in the first place. Ron was the one who loved her, after all, the one who'd waited for her all this time. He'd waited even when she'd kept her distance, denying him the one thing that might've brought them closer.

Well, she was done putting him off. For his sake, for the sake of their relationship…

She laid back on the mattress, closing her eyes as he slid a hand under her jumper. He unfastened her bra after several clumsy attempts, his kisses frantic, his breath coming in short, excited bursts. She couldn't match his enthusiasm, but she did nothing to stop him either. She even helped him remove her jumper, the cool night air raising goosebumps on her bare skin.

"Hermione…"

She opened her eyes, surprised to discover that his clothes were gone. He was lying on top of her, something hard and unfamiliar pressing against her stomach.

Should she stop him? Part of her was still tempted, though she also understood what that would mean. If she didn't go through with it now? She never would.

Ron seemed to realize that, too, his eyes pleading with her to give him an answer. Not just an answer, but the right one… the only one that wouldn't drive them further apart.

"Please, Hermione."

She stared at him in silence, unable to find the word she needed. Finally, she nodded, holding her breath as he unbuttoned her jeans.

Severus took another swig of Firewhiskey, scowling as he leaned back in his chair. He hadn't had a drink in months, though tonight, he was willing to make an exception. It was Christmas Eve, after all – what else did he have to do? Besides, it wasn't as if Hermione was around to scold him for it. She wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts until the Sunday after New Year's.

Nine more days… pathetic that he knew that. Even more pathetic? He'd been counting since the day she'd left.

He hadn't expected to miss her. No, he'd clung to his own lies, swearing that what had happened between them was just a momentary lapse in judgment. That was what he'd wanted to believe, at any rate. He'd been trying to protect them both, shaken by what he'd seen in Ashwood's head.

"I regret my actions, too."

She regretted it… yes, well, she would've regretted it a lot more if their secret had been exposed.

"We can't let anyone find out…"

"That you're shagging the greasy dungeon bat? Yeah, I'd be embarrassed, too."

Ashwood was a lunatic, but on this subject, his feelings were much the same as anyone else's would be. The thought of Hermione being subjected to judgment and mockery, shunned by her friends and almost certainly her two closest companions? Severus couldn't stomach that. He didn't want to become a source of shame for her, a fleeting impulse followed by months or perhaps even years of regret.

It couldn't happen again. He knew that, which should've been the end of it. But the sick, hollow feeling in his stomach when he'd spoken those words… the emptiness he'd felt from the moment she'd left Hogwarts…

Severus shook his head, taking another drink before he summoned his coat. Brooding in his office clearly wasn't doing him any favors – what he needed was a distraction.

He headed to the Great Hall, joining the other staff members for the feast. There wasn't a single student among them, an anomaly compared to Christmases past. Different, yes, but not surprising. There were fewer students these days… fewer students with far more protective parents.

"Severus," Minerva said. "I'm so glad you decided to join us!"

Flitwick nodded, pouring him a glass of wine as he sat down at the table. He thought about refusing, considering that he was already tipsy. Then again, why shouldn't he indulge? No classes to attend, no detentions to oversee… he could spend the next week in a drunken stupor and it wouldn't make any difference.

"The elves have outdone themselves this year," Pomona said. "Really Severus, you must try the ham."

He nibbled at his food, glad that no one attempted to drag him into conversation. They'd resumed their idle gossip, something he'd come to expect at staff events.

"I'm impressed with Ginny Weasley this year. That girl's got the makings of a professional Quidditch star."

"I'm sure that's true, Rolanda," Flitwick said, "though I wish she'd put forth as much effort in her classes as she does on the Quidditch pitch."

"Oh, what does it matter? Academics are overrated."

This was a familiar argument, one Severus had heard at least a dozen times. He shrugged, helping himself to another glass of wine.

"Overrated?" As usual, Flitwick allowed himself to be baited, his eyes widening in outrage. "Every student needs to develop other skills, no matter how talented they might be at sports. No one can play Quidditch forever."

"Perhaps not," Minerva said, "though we needn't be concerned for Miss Weasley's future. She has plenty of natural talent, and besides…"

"She'll be married soon enough."

"Yes, Poppy, one would hope so. Such a beautiful couple… I'm sure they'll be quite happy together."

Severus rolled his eyes, already regretting his decision to leave the dungeon. He downed the rest of his wine in one swallow, remaining silent as the others discussed Potter's impending marital bliss.

"Of course," Minerva said, "theirs isn't the only wedding I expect to take place in the near future."

"Ronald?"

She nodded. "Poor Molly… she'll have her hands full with all that planning."

Severus looked up, his eyes narrowing. Surely she didn't mean…

"So soon?" Flitwick said. "I would've assumed that Miss Granger would want to delay such things."

"Perhaps, though she is involved with a Weasley. You know how family-oriented they are, all the more so now that they've lost one of their own. Molly will press the issue, no doubt, and I can't say I'd blame her. Besides, there will be plenty of time later on for…"

"Time for what?" Severus interrupted. "What, exactly, do you think she'll have time for after she spends the best years of her life breeding the next generation of Weasleys?"

Minerva blinked, obviously shocked by his outburst. "Well, I don't know," she said. "But there's nothing wrong with marrying and having children."

"Not for Molly Weasley, perhaps, and not for her daughter either. Miss Granger is… different. Her interest in and capacity for…"

"I agree with Severus," Flitwick said. "Miss Granger is much more academically minded. We've all seen how she excels in her classes… how she's always excelled, despite all the troubles she's had to cope with over the years. Now that the war is over, it would be nice to see her further her education. She has a ton of potential… potential that deserves to be fully explored."

Severus nodded. "My point exactly."

"I don't disagree," Minerva said. "Nonetheless, the choice is Miss Granger's, not yours or mine. If she prefers to marry and start a family…"

"Not what she prefers, apparently. What Molly prefers."

"You misunderstood me, Severus."

"Did I?" He raised an eyebrow. "You said, and I quote, 'Molly will press the issue, and I can't say I'd blame her'."

"A little nudge in the right direction, perhaps."

"The right direction? Or the direction that suits her interests?"

"Severus, I know you care for Miss Granger, but…"

"I don't care for her," he interrupted, "I merely recognize potential when I see it. She's a talented girl – it would be a shame to see that squandered."

"Speaking of talent," Pomona said, effectively changing the subject, "I received a holiday card from Neville Longbottom the other day…"

Severus stayed for a few more minutes, not wanting to give the impression that his departure had anything to do with the previous discussion. He swallowed a few mouthfuls of Christmas pudding, forcing himself to make a bit of small talk before he rose from the table.

"Leaving so soon, Severus?"

Soon? He felt like he'd been sitting there for a lifetime.

"Too much wine," he said. "I'm ready to sleep it off."

The others murmured in understanding, wishing him a Happy Christmas as he staggered out of the hall.

He didn't return to the dungeon. Instead, he stepped outside, hardly noticing the frigid night air. He didn't know where he was going until he arrived at the Apparition point, hoping he wouldn't splinch himself as he turned in a slow, wobbly circle.

Opening his eyes, he found himself in Diagon Alley, his body thankfully intact. Even then, he wasn't quite sure what he was doing, lingering on the sidewalk as he struggled to process what he'd learned.

She was with Weasley.

He should've known that. Indeed, he'd certainly known it over the summer, and she'd given him no indication that circumstances had changed. She'd kissed him, yes, but she'd also expressed regret over doing so, agreeing that it could never happen again.

And it couldn't. He knew that now. It wasn't just about protecting her… he had to protect himself.

"I don't care for her…"

What a liar he was. Minerva might not know it, and as far as he was concerned, no one else would either. Still, he could no longer deny the truth, at least to himself. He did care, far more than he'd realized, cursing himself for a fool as he headed toward Knockturn Alley.

Hermione stepped out into the hall, averting her eyes as she hurried past Harry. She headed straight for the bathroom, locking the door behind her before she dug through her bag. Contraceptive Potion. Yes, that was what she needed. She swallowed an unnecessarily large dose, wishing she'd brewed some pain reliever as well.

"That was incredible," Ron panted, his body sticky with sweat as he'd collapsed on the mattress. She hadn't been able to respond, though he hadn't seemed to care. He'd fallen asleep in a matter of minutes, snoring loudly as she'd lain there stunned, shaken, and sore.

Incredible? More like incredibly awful, at least from her perspective. He'd managed a few jabbing thrusts before he'd let out a yell, too distracted to notice her whimpers of pain.

Of course, he hadn't meant to hurt her. He'd had no idea what he was doing. But it hurt nonetheless, a pain that still lingered as she crawled into bed next to Ginny.

Why had she gone through with it? How had she convinced herself that sex would fix things between them? Thinking that it would help her feel closer to him? If anything, it had done the opposite.

It was cruel, really. He hadn't done anything wrong… or at least, she didn't think he had. So why did she feel so… so…

Hermione shook her head, resisting the urge to cry as she drifted off to sleep.