Shutting the door with a flick of his wand, Snape stepped over to the wall. A brief, rather testy command and the portrait moved aside, revealing a hidden staircase.
"Come."
Hermione followed him downstairs, her eyes widening as they entered his lab. It was far less pristine than the last time she'd seen it, dozens of ingredients scattered across the counters, the air thick with fumes.
"You've been busy."
Brushing past her, he plucked a vial off the counter. "Take this. All of it."
"What's it for?"
"Nausea."
That was all she needed to know, inhaling deeply as she lifted it to her lips. It had a warm, spicy aroma, the pleasant taste doing wonders to settle her stomach.
"Ginger?"
Snape nodded. "An effective remedy for stomach ailments."
"Very effective. Thank you."
He didn't respond, his brow furrowed as he leaned over a simmering cauldron. Stirring rapidly, he added a pinch of powder, the potion transforming into a rich shade of green that reminded her of the Forbidden Forest.
"And that one? What's…"
"This one," he interrupted, "is highly complex. Give me a moment, if you will."
Settling herself on the bench, Hermione watched closely as he added several more ingredients. He worked with quiet self-assurance, pausing only once to consult the book that lay open on the counter.
"13 counterclockwise," he muttered as he resumed his stirring. "Of course."
Finally, he set down the stirrer, lowering the heat on the cauldron. He took another few minutes to clean up, his expression inscrutable as he came to sit beside her.
"What is it?" she asked, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.
"Graviditas Cessatum."
"Cessatum? Is that…"
"It's an abortifacient," he said.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione stared at the cauldron. "You mean… you're saying that will…"
"As I told you earlier, you do have a choice. When the potion is ready, you can put an end to this situation if that is what you wish."
"When will it be ready?"
"28 days from now. It takes a full moon's cycle to mature."
"That long?"
"Under normal circumstances," he said, "I'd have at least a vial or two in stock. After the incident with Ashwood, however…"
"It's okay. Really, it's better this way."
"How so?"
"It'll give me time to think things through," she said. "Whatever I choose, I want to be sure I'm making the right decision."
"The right decision for whom?"
She didn't respond, rising from the bench to peer into the cauldron. The potion was still the same color, a dark yet vibrant green, shimmering softly beneath the sconces on the wall.
"Does it hurt?"
"Far less than the alternative, I'd imagine."
"Is it safe?"
"Do you think I'd offer it to you if it wasn't?"
She shook her head, speech giving way to awkward silence. It grew heavier by the minute, as if the air itself was weighed down by too many things left unsaid.
"Sir?"
"Don't call me that. Not in private."
"Professor…"
"You know my name," he said. "Use it."
"Why?"
She heard a sharp intake of breath, a clear sign that he'd been caught off guard by the question.
"You know why," he said, his voice low.
"Do I? I'm not so sure."
He cleared his throat, sounding much more controlled. "If you'd prefer to use formalities…"
"No," she said. "I just want to know where I stand."
Was it the right time for this conversation? Hermione didn't know, but now that he'd given her an opening, she had to take it. She'd spent all afternoon puzzling over his reaction – or lack of reaction, to be more exact. He'd gone out of his way to help her, taking her side and even brewing the potions she needed. But she had no idea how he felt on a personal level, eager yet terrified to know what he thought of her now.
"Where you stand?" he repeated.
"Yes. How do you feel about me?"
This time, he was truly taken aback. She still hadn't turned around, but she could feel it, the air suddenly crackling with tension.
"I… you're more to me than just a student. I thought that was obvious."
"Not anymore."
"Meaning?"
"I'm pregnant," she said quietly. "That changes things, doesn't it? Whatever happened before… I'm sure you don't feel that way anymore."
"Oh? How do you think I feel, then?"
"Angry, disappointed, disgusted? I don't know. I just don't see how…"
She trailed off, resisting the urge to cry. She'd been pushing these thoughts aside since that moment in the Weasley's bathroom, not ready to confront the underlying fear that she'd ruined things with Snape. True, she hadn't meant for this to happen, but what did that matter? She was still carrying someone else's child, the product of a stupid, possibly unforgivable mistake.
"May I ask you a question?" Snape said.
"I guess so."
"I want an honest answer."
"All right."
He hesitated, taking a deep breath. "If I hadn't pushed you away… if I hadn't insisted that what happened between us was a mistake…"
"Would I have still slept with Ron?"
"Yes," he said.
She didn't want to respond, already sensing where this was going. Then again, she'd agreed to tell the truth, hadn't she? Lying wouldn't do either of them any favors.
"No," she said. "I wouldn't have."
"I suspected as much."
She heard him rise from the bench, footsteps approaching until she felt him standing beside her. Turning to face him, she was caught off guard by his expression, his mouth twisted into a grimace.
"If I'm disgusted with anyone," he said, "I'm disgusted with myself."
"This isn't your fault."
"Isn't it? You just said…"
She shook her head. "I knew I didn't feel… didn't want… I shouldn't have done it, regardless."
"Nonetheless. I bear some responsibility. Lying to myself, to you…"
"I lied to you, too," she pointed out. "You said it was a mistake and I agreed. What if I hadn't?"
"Honestly?" he said. "It wouldn't have mattered. I truly believed it was a fleeting attraction on your part, convinced that distance and denial would protect us both."
"It's not just a fleeting attraction," she said. "It never was."
"No?" He scrutinized her features, black eyes glittering with some unknown emotion.
"No."
"I see."
Obviously at a loss for words, he cleared his throat several times before he sighed in resignation. Hermione moved a little closer, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, burying his face in her hair.
"For what?"
"This. All of it. If I hadn't…"
"I made mistakes, too. Really, I shouldn't have…"
"May I finish?"
"Yes."
"I was wrong," he said. "Wrong to deny what was happening, wrong in the belief that pushing you away would shield us both from consequences. It was already too late for that, even if I was too blind to see it."
"So you're saying…"
"I can't reverse my error in judgment, but I can endeavor not to repeat it. If this… if I am what you want…"
"You are."
He nodded, letting out a shuddering breath. "We'll have to be discreet."
"I know."
"Speaking of which…" Lifting his head to look at the clock, he cursed under his breath. "It's well past curfew."
"Midnight?! I had no idea…"
He pulled away, retrieving several vials of the potion he'd given her earlier. "Take these," he said. "I'll brew more as needed."
"Thanks."
"Do you have the Invisibility Cloak?"
She nodded.
"Good. Make sure you put it on before you leave my office."
"Severus?"
That single word made his face transform, his expression softer than she'd ever seen it. She felt shivers in the pit of her stomach, realizing that things between them had changed irrevocably that night. There was no going back now, no more room for denial. Whatever this was or could be… that door had been ripped off its hinges, never to be closed again.
"Yes?"
"What about this?" She pointed at her stomach, shooting a quick glance at the cauldron.
"That," he said, "has no bearing on us."
"What if I don't take the potion?"
He hesitated, clearly fighting some internal battle. "Whether you take it or not is irrelevant," he finally said, "It will not change how I feel."
"Really?"
"Yes," he said. "Unless, of course, you decide to marry Weasley. I don't see how we could overcome that particular obstacle."
"I'm not marrying Ron. No way in hell."
"Well then, I wouldn't worry about it. The rest can be sorted as it comes."
Hermione didn't know what to say, stunned that he would be so accepting. Was this really the same Snape she'd known all those years ago, rigid and uncompromising, unwilling to accept even the smallest mistake? What had wrought such a massive change in him? Was it the war, or…
"You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?"
He hadn't changed. Not really, not in the way that mattered just now. What else had Harry said?
"The same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all his life."
Hermione had never seen the memories, but she knew enough to put the pieces together. Snape had loved Lily Potter, regardless of what had come between them, loved her despite her decision to marry someone he'd obviously hated. He'd gone on loving her when she'd had his enemy's child, feelings that existed long after she was dead and buried. Those feelings had driven him to switch sides, putting his life on the line time and again to protect her son.
In the end? He'd been willing to die for the sake of that love. It was only a matter of chance that he hadn't.
Did he love Lily still?
That was a question for another time, Hermione supposed. She wasn't ready to consider whether he might be in love with her either, afraid it was much too soon for that. He obviously cared about her, however, which went a long way in explaining his acceptance. He was nothing if not loyal – his actions during the war stood as proof of that.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
She shrugged, not sure how to articulate what she was feeling. For the first time since she'd found out she was pregnant, she felt better, knowing there was one person who was unequivocally on her side. She knew now that he wouldn't treat her any differently, no matter what she decided to do. In his eyes, at least, the choice truly was hers.
"Thank you," she repeated. "For being you."
"I'm not sure what you mean," he said, looking equal parts baffled and flattered.
"It doesn't matter."
It did, but she had neither the time or the words to explain. Instead, she set down her bag, winding her arms around his neck. He reacted immediately, letting out a shuddering sigh as his mouth covered hers.
She'd forgotten what it was like to kiss him, her knees going weak as she responded with equal fervor. She'd never felt anything like it, her entire world reduced to the touch of his lips, the taste of his mouth, her stomach fluttering as he slid his hands over her backside, pressing her against his obvious arousal.
"We can't," he murmured, his warm breath tickling her ear. "Not tonight."
"I know."
"Soon."
One last kiss and he pulled away, taking her hand as he led her upstairs. He brushed it with his lips before he released it, his dark eyes fixed on hers.
"Be careful," he said. "It's a long way up to the Room of Requirement."
"Oh, I'm not staying there anymore."
"No?"
She shook her head, retrieving the cloak from her bag. "Professor McGonagall said it's no longer necessary now that Ashwood is gone."
"Are you back in the guest wing, then?"
"No, Gryffindor Tower. She thinks it would do me good to be more… social."
"Of course she does." Snape rolled his eyes.
"I'm not happy about it, but it's only a few more months. After that…"
"We'll worry about that later," he interrupted. "For now, let's get you upstairs."
"Right," she said, putting on the cloak as she headed toward the door. "Good night, Severus."
"Good night… Hermione."
Severus waited for her to leave before he ducked into his quarters, his senses still reeling. Of all the things he'd expected to happen that night…
He'd handled the situation well, or so he'd thought. When she'd told him she was pregnant, he'd put his own feelings aside, determined to be supportive. It hadn't even occurred to him that she'd assume the worst. Anger, disappointment… disgust?
Of course, he'd made plenty of his own assumptions. He'd assumed that a relationship with him would be the last thing on her mind given the circumstances, that it really didn't matter how he felt about her situation.
"Whatever happened before… I'm sure you don't feel that way anymore."
It mattered a lot, as it turned out. He'd heard it in her voice in that moment, an underlying fear of rejection that couldn't be denied. He knew that fear all too well, a distinct brand of vulnerability that could only come from a deep emotional attachment.
Love? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Either way, he'd clearly underestimated her feelings.
"It's not just a fleeting attraction. It never was."
Had it been that way from the start? If so, why hadn't he seen it? Why hadn't he accepted what now seemed obvious, an irrefutable truth that was staring him right in the face? Was it fear of consequences that had held him back? Or was it something much deeper, scars left behind by a lifetime's worth of disappointment?
Deep down, Severus knew it was the latter, recalling how he'd made every effort to lower his expectations. Such habits had served him well in the past, though in this case…
"If I hadn't pushed you away, if I hadn't insisted that what happened between us was a mistake…"
It was his fault. She could deny it all she liked, but the facts were indisputable. If he'd behaved differently, hadn't been such a coward…
No.
Tempted though he was, Severus refused to go down that road again. Guilt? Self recrimation? Hating himself might've been an integral part of his life once, the driving force behind his actions throughout the war. But now?
He couldn't be with Hermione without finding some worth in himself. He'd already proven that, minimizing her feelings and pushing her away simply because he couldn't fathom the idea of her wanting to be with someone like him. Obsessing over his failures would only continue that cycle, leaving him thoroughly convinced that a relationship was out of the question.
"If I'm disgusted with anyone, I'm disgusted with myself."
Why? Because he'd made a mistake? He wasn't a Seer, couldn't have possibly predicted what would happen. As for what had happened…
"I'm pregnant."
Pregnant. Not dead. This wasn't some irreversible tragedy, just an unfortunate complication. At best, it would be resolved in a matter of weeks. At worst?
"What if I don't take the potion?"
Admittedly, he wasn't thrilled with the idea. He'd been tempted to argue, emphasizing her deeply dysfunctional relationship with the Weasleys not to mention all the sacrifices she'd have to make. Her education. Her career. How much could she hope to achieve with an infant demanding all her attention?
Nonetheless, he'd kept his mouth shut. He knew it had to be her decision, one he had no right to influence in either direction. Besides…
"Whether you take it or not is irrelevant. It will not change how I feel."
In that moment, he'd finally understood how deeply he cared for her. He'd accept her and the child if it came to that, just as there'd once been a time when he would've gladly welcomed Lily with Harry in tow. There was nothing he wouldn't do for the sake of someone he loved, all the more so if there was a chance that love might be reciprocated.
That was the difference between those long ago fantasies and the reality that faced him now. Lily had loved someone else. She'd chosen to marry Potter of her own free will. But Hermione…
"I'm not marrying Ron. No way in hell."
Hermione wanted him. She'd said so herself, not just her words but her eyes and arms and lips communicating the one thing he'd never expected to receive from another person. Acceptance. Desire. The possibility he could actually be loved. Those things had existed beyond his reach, entangled with the memory of someone who could've never fulfilled them, even if she'd survived.
"What if I don't take the potion?"
The more Severus thought about it, the less he gave a damn. Oh, he cared what a child might do to her, complicating her life and interfering with her plans. But for his own sake? It truly didn't matter.
At any rate, he was done dwelling on it. He'd had enough of pondering worst case scenarios, fretting over everything that could possibly go wrong. For now, he wanted to focus on what had gone right, a pleasant chill skittering up his spine as he remembered her saying his name. As long as she wanted this… wanted him…
Everything else was bloody insignificant.
Hermione made it to Gryffindor Tower without incident, stifling a yawn as she waited for the portrait to move aside. She ducked into the common room, casting a Muffliato on herself as she hurried up to the dormitory.
Thankfully, her absence had gone unnoticed. The other students were fast asleep, oblivious to her presence as she slipped out of her robes and crawled into bed. She stretched out on the mattress, frowning as she heard the distinct crinkle of parchment.
"Lumos," she whispered, frowning as she peered at the note.
Spending a lot of time in the dungeons, I see. Have you told Snape you're up the duff, or were you hoping to pass the baby off as his?
Her earlier nausea came rushing back, stomach roiling in protest. She was on the verge of rushing to the bathroom when she remembered the potion, grabbing a vial out of her bag and downing it in several large swallows.
The effects were immediate, her stomach settling though the same couldn't be said for her mind. Who the hell…
It wasn't Ashwood. It couldn't be. He'd been gone for two months, safe in the Ministry's custody, and besides, the handwriting was different. Only the underlying intention was the same, cruel taunts designed to destroy her peace of mind.
They'd certainly accomplished that. She was trembling now, eyes filling with tears as she read the message again.
Spending a lot of time in the dungeons…
The fact that she'd been down there wasn't a secret. She hadn't bothered to hide where she was going, only her return at such a late hour. Who could've known about that? Who, when she'd been so careful to conceal herself?
She moved on, scrutinizing the next few words.
Have you told Snape you're up the duff…
Whoever had written this knew she was pregnant, something she hadn't shared with anyone aside from Snape. The only other person who knew, at least here at Hogwarts…
She glanced at the girl sleeping two beds away, shaking her head in denial. Sure, Ginny was angry, but would she really be this spiteful? No… there had to be another explanation.
There had to be, and yet there wasn't. True, Ginny could've told someone about the pregnancy, but why would anyone else react this strongly to the news? Why would they imply that she was trying to entrap Snape, and how would they know she'd been down in the dungeons all this time? They wouldn't… not unless they had some personal reason to keep track of her movements.
Ginny had that. She was the only one in this school who did. Like Molly and Ron, she'd already made it clear that she felt some ownership over this baby, freezing Hermione out for not going along with their plans. Clearly, she saw Hermione's actions as a betrayal – was it really a stretch to think she might be spying on her brother's behalf?
As much as Hermione hated to admit it, that theory made sense.
"Were you hoping to pass the baby off as his?"
The part about Snape was a bit more confusing… or was it?
On one hand, Ginny could have intended it as an insult, unaware that Hermione's feelings toward him had changed. On the other… did she suspect something was going on between them? If so, did she really think Hermione would trick Snape into thinking he was the father?
It was a disgusting thought, yet she could see how Ginny might come to that conclusion. If her argument with Ron had taught her anything, it was that the Weasleys weren't exactly modern in their beliefs. Termination? That hadn't even been brought up as a possibility, nor had single motherhood. They'd assumed that marriage was the only logical option, reacting with outrage and disbelief when Hermione had other ideas.
She'd read about such things in her Muggle history books, remembering that women would often pass a child off as someone else's if the father was unwilling or unsuitable. It had been an act of survival, an unfortunate necessity in a time when women had been unable to provide for themselves and almost certainly would've been shunned for having a child out of wedlock.
Fortunately, the world had changed, though like most pureblood families, the Weasleys were slow to catch up.
Of course, there was another factor, too. Snape had a steady job, while Ron was unemployed. Snape had a decent amount of savings, no doubt, not to mention his own home. By contrast, Ron lived with parents who'd always been poor, with little to offer in the way of luxuries.
Ron's poverty had never bothered her. She'd broken up with him due to incompatibility and lack of attraction, not lack of money. But did Ginny understand that? Or had she noticed the difference, too, suspecting Hermione might pursue Snape for the security he could offer?
"Ugh," she said, glad the Muffliato was still in place. She read the message again, shaking her head as she did so.
Insulting though it was, she didn't feel threatened. Hurt and angry, yes, but not threatened. Ginny wouldn't hurt her physically. She couldn't sneak into private spaces, spying on her and Snape as Alain Ashwood had done. All she had were her suspicions, which could hardly be counted as proof.
"We'll have to be discreet."
That was even more true now. It might've been easier if she was still staying in the Room of Requirement, but sharing a dormitory with Ginny? Late nights would have to be avoided. She couldn't spend time with Snape without a legitimate excuse, and she'd need to take advantage of those times when Ginny wasn't paying attention. Quidditch practice. Trips to Hogsmeade. She'd steal a few minutes here and there when she was able, hoping it would be enough to get them through the next few months.
In the meantime…
She glanced at the message one last time, hesitating only briefly before she ripped it to pieces.