"Are you all right, Severus? You look a bit flushed."
"Fine," he said smoothly. "Is there something I can do for you?"
"May I come in?"
"I, ah… I was just about to retire."
"Nonsense!" Minerva said. "New Year's Eve, and it's not even midnight yet. You can have one drink with me, surely."
She didn't wait for his response, settling herself in the chair where Hermione had so recently been sitting. Hermione… Severus hoped like hell she'd obey his instructions. The thought of her emerging from his quarters in the dead of night, coming face to face with Minerva…
"One drink," he said. "I really am tired."
"Very well." Minerva reached into her cloak, withdrawing a bottle of Ogden's. Clearly, she hadn't noticed the glasses he'd stashed on the shelf behind him, conjuring a couple of her own. She filled them both to the brim, sliding one across the desk.
"Have you had a good holiday?"
He shrugged. "I've had worse."
"Haven't we all?" she said. "Nonetheless, I'm sure it hasn't been easy, being back here after everything that happened. Merlin knows I struggle with it sometimes, and what I went through wasn't half as traumatic as…"
Severus had spent the past few months anticipating this conversation. He'd known that sooner or later, Minerva would feel the need to soothe her guilty conscience. That was all well and good, but why did it have to be now?
"I'm fine," he said. "Really."
"Even if that's true, I still owe you an apology."
"For what?"
"Believing the worst."
"That is precisely what you were supposed to believe."
"That still doesn't make it right. I should've known better, should've…"
"Don't," he interrupted. "Please."
"All right." Minerva sighed, pouring herself another drink. "The point is, I'm grateful that you agreed to come back and teach. You certainly didn't owe me any favors."
He shrugged. "I needed the job."
"Well, if there's anything else you need…"
I need you to leave so I can sneak one of your precious Gryffindors out of my quarters.
"I'll let you know," he said aloud. "Thank you."
To his relief, she changed the subject, regaling him with the typical idle gossip. The clock had long since struck midnight when she finally got up to leave, nearly two hours from the time she'd arrived.
"Happy New Year, Severus."
"Same to you."
He warded the door behind her, waiting for her footsteps to fade before he ducked into his quarters.
"Miss Granger?"
He frowned, eyes scanning the empty sitting room. She wasn't in the bathroom either, which meant…
Nothing could've prepared him for the sight that greeted him as he stepped into his bedroom. She was lying on her side, brown curls tumbled across the pillow, one hand still holding an open book. So unexpected, so intimate…
So natural.
Indeed, there was nothing strange about her sleeping in his bed. He'd never shared it with anyone, yet she seemed to belong there, all the more so when he pictured himself lying next to her. Tonight… every night…
"No."
She stirred as he spoke, murmuring something indistinguishable as she shifted onto her back. She looked young, far younger than she'd seemed in his office, innocent and vulnerable, and… what the hell was he doing? Or more specifically, what had he almost done? If Minerva hadn't interrupted…
Oh yes, he knew what would've happened. It was the same thing that could easily happen now if he didn't restrain himself, part of him tempted to lie down beside her. How exquisite would it feel to…
No. No no no.
Finishing what he'd started? That wouldn't be a problem. It was the aftermath that concerned him, repercussions that had somehow slipped his mind from the moment he'd kissed her. They came back to him now, flooding through his mind as he forced himself to turn away. If Minerva had caught them… if anyone found out…
He'd be treated like a pariah, most likely sacked, both of which he could live with. But what about her? Gossiped about, shunned by her friends…
Severus wasn't stupid. He knew what most of the students thought of him. He'd endured their insults year after year, forced to pretend like he didn't care. Greasy dungeon bat. Nasty old git. There were worse ones, too, though he did his best not to think of them. The point was, she'd be humiliated if the truth came out. Quite a price to pay for a few minutes of pleasure.
"Miss Granger?"
"Mmmm…"
"Miss Granger!"
Hermione bolted upright, eyes widening as she spotted Snape. He was standing at the foot of the bed, his expression inscrutable.
"Is everything all right?"
"Fine."
She nodded, stifling a yawn. "Who was at the door?"
"Minerva."
"She didn't…"
"She doesn't know."
Hermione waited for him to say something else, but he didn't. He stood there stiffly instead, not quite meeting her eyes.
"Are you sure everything's okay?"
"Yes, other than the fact that I'm exceedingly tired. I should escort you back to your room."
Was that all it was? She hoped so, though she knew better than to press him. Whatever the reason, he clearly wasn't in the mood for conversation.
By the time they made it out of the dungeons, she knew something was wrong. He put as much distance between them as possible, his eyes fixed straight ahead. Several more flights of stairs and still, he said nothing, the silence almost deafening as they reached her room.
"Good night," he finally said, turning to leave without waiting for her response.
"Wait."
Glancing back over his shoulder, he raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"I don't know what happened, but…"
"Nothing happened, which is fortunate for us both."
"So what? You regret it? That's what you said last time, and…"
"No," he interrupted. "I don't regret it. I didn't then, and I don't now. However…"
"I don't regret it either."
"However," he repeated, "it cannot happen again."
"Why not?"
"You're still my student, for one thing."
She shook her head. "I'm not just your student. It's different now, and you know it."
"Perhaps," he said, "though the rest of the world isn't likely to accept that. Were anyone to find out, there would be repercussions for us both."
"I don't care."
"Maybe not, but I do. I will not risk…"
Trailing off, he glanced at the other end of the hall. After a moment, she heard it too, the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps.
"I have to go."
"All right," she said, sighing as he disappeared around the corner.
Severus headed back to the dungeons, swiftly coming to two conclusions. First, he had to stop drinking. Sobriety might not solve all his problems, but it seemed like a good place to start.
Shutting the door to his office, he Vanished the rest of the Firewhiskey. He fixed himself a pot of tea instead, sighing as he settled himself at his desk.
The second conclusion wasn't so easy. The thought of keeping his distance…
"It's different now, and you know it."
Indeed, he did know. Everything they'd been through… they'd crossed too many lines to ever go back. And yet they couldn't move forward either… at least, not in the way he wanted. What he wanted…
Absurd, maybe, but he could no longer deny it. He couldn't forget what he'd felt when he'd seen her lying in his bed. Lust? Well, yes, but also something deeper than that. That longing… that brief, yet unmistakable longing to sleep beside her, wake up next to her each morning…
He'd never felt that way before. Even with Lily, he'd dreamed of snogging, sliding his hands under her jumper, putting an arm around her as they walked through the halls. He'd been too young to imagine a future with her, and of course, he hadn't thought that way about anyone since.
Until Hermione.
Frankly? It scared him. He could accept that she was attracted to him, even that she was willing to sleep with him. But these other feelings… he couldn't hope they'd ever be reciprocated. That defied all logic, spat in the face of common sense. Granted, he was a better choice than Weasley, but still…
Still, Hermione had her whole life ahead of her. Young, talented, beautiful, brilliant… the future was hers for the taking. Why waste it on someone like him?
That, he supposed, was what he was really running from. He knew how much pain there was in unrequited feelings. Indeed, he'd suffered through that for much of his life. The thought of doing it again…
No. Better to distance himself now, before it was too late.
Meanwhile, she'd be better off, too. There'd be no risk of getting caught, no shame or judgment to face if that happened. She could finish these last few months at Hogwarts and move on with her life, her reputation fully intact.
Severus had never felt so tired, stripping off his robes as he entered his quarters. Coat, shirt, trousers, boots… he fell into bed, only to groan in frustration.
That smell… the sweet, subtle smell of her shampoo… he knew he should remove it, though he couldn't bring himself to reach for his wand. He breathed it in instead, assaulted by an image of her lying naked across his desk. Beautiful breasts, soft, silky skin… the sound of her moans…
Try though he might, he couldn't stop his body's reaction. He gave in to it instead, a swift, desperate act followed by a sigh of relief.
Hermione came to two conclusions that night. First? She'd had enough of Snape's unpredictable moods. Hot one minute, cold the next… what was he so afraid of?
"You're still my student."
"It's different now, and you know it."
She'd been right. Unfortunately, he was, too. No one would care that she was well over age. They wouldn't understand that their relationship had changed since the end of the war, so much that the usual rules didn't apply. A teacher sleeping with a student? At best, it would ruin his reputation. At worst? He'd lose his job.
From that perspective, she could see why he'd pulled back. What she couldn't wrap her head around was the way he'd done it.
"It cannot happen again."
If he'd said "not now", she would've understood. If he'd asked her to wait a few months, hold off until summer when he wouldn't have to worry about getting sacked? That would've made sense. But "never"?
That was the part that baffled her. She wasn't particularly vain, but she wasn't blind either. She'd seen the hunger in his eyes, his kisses more intense than anything she'd ever felt before. Whatever this was, this attraction between them? He felt it as much as she did. So why couldn't he just…
Hermione stepped into the bathroom, taking a minute to wash her face before she undressed for bed. She crawled beneath the covers, sighing as she reached the second conclusion.
She wasn't going to push him. She wouldn't try to change his mind, wouldn't insist on an explanation. Whatever happened between them or didn't… it would have to be his choice.
It wouldn't be easy. She'd never been one to sit on the sidelines, waiting for someone else to make decisions. But this wasn't just anyone. It was Snape. Whatever fears he had, whatever reservations… she couldn't force him to put them aside. He'd have to do that himself.
Until that happened? They'd be stuck between "yes" and "no", brief, blissful moments inevitably followed by disappointment.
She didn't want that. Not for herself, and not for him either. What she wanted…
Closing her eyes, she pictured him leaning over her, panting softly as he unbuttoned his trousers. The way his hands trembled, the longing in his eyes…
She'd watched that longing give way to panic, underscored by guilt and frustration. One knock at the door, and desire had transformed into shame, a reason to distance himself rather than finish what they'd started.
"I don't regret it."
He might've said that, but his actions told a different story. Unless that changed… until that changed…
She'd have to keep her distance, too.
Under the circumstances, Hermione wasn't surprised that Snape avoided her. She just didn't expect it to be so extreme.
She saw him in class, of course. They passed each other in the halls, and they both showed up for meals. Yet for all that, he might as well have been on a different planet. He didn't speak to her. Never even glanced in her direction. He just went about his day, as if she didn't exist.
Part of her was hurt by his behavior, though she knew better than to take it to heart. This was Snape, after all. The more he tried to pretend like he didn't care, the more she knew that the opposite was true.
And so for the next few weeks, she gave him his space. She dove headfirst into her schoolwork, finishing all her assignments well ahead of their due date. She caught up on her reading, wrote several essays for extra credit she didn't need, even volunteered to tutor a couple of third years. She'd never been so immersed in school, forgetting the outside world and all its complications.
Of course, that couldn't last forever. It ended in late January, the day she received Ron's letter.
Dear Hermione,
I don't really know what to say, but I wanted to check and see how you were. I wish we hadn't left things the way we did. I've felt wretched ever since.
She read it once and then again, summoning her quill and parchment.
Dear Ron,
I'm sorry for the way we left things, too. I didn't mean to hurt you, I just… She paused, struggling to find the words she needed. I don't know how to explain it, really, but I hope you know it isn't anything you did.
That wasn't exactly true, though Ron seemed to believe it. He wrote back the next day, saying he forgave her and would love to be friends.
Don't you miss it? The way it used to be?
Well, she wrote back, I don't miss being chased by You-Know-Who or nearly getting ourselves killed all the time. The rest of it? Definitely.
They wrote constantly after that, each of them reminiscing about the adventures they'd shared. All the while, Ron never said a word about their failed relationship, almost as if it had never happened.
Honestly? She was fine with that. Delighted, actually. The more they talked about the past, the more she realized what they'd lost. Fun. Laughter. Understanding. That was what she missed… a childhood friendship that had nothing to do with sex or romance.
Speaking of romance…
She frowned, scanning his most recent letter.
Valentine's Day's on Saturday this year. Gin's coming home to spend the weekend with Harry. Why don't you come, too?
Ron, she responded. I'm not sure that's a good idea.
No, no, he wrote back. I didn't mean it like that! It's just the two of them will be off together, and Mum and Dad have plans. I'll be bored out of my bloody mind, stuck here by myself.
Hermione hesitated, remembering how Molly had treated her over winter break. Ginny had barely even spoken to her since returning to Hogwarts, spending most of her time on the Quidditch pitch or hanging out with other friends.
Eh, don't worry about them. They'll be fine as long as they know we're getting along.
Are you sure?
Of course I'm sure! We all miss you, you know.
Did they? Molly and Ginny had an odd way of showing it, though Hermione chose not to say so. The truth was, she did want to mend those relationships. She'd love to see Harry, of course, and Ron…
Yes, she wanted to see him, too. She hadn't realized how much she'd been missing their friendship.
All right, she wrote back. But just as friends.
Of course! We'll have an anti-Valentine's Day.
She smiled, writing a single word before she signed the letter with a flourish.
Perfect.