"What did Minerva say?"
"She didn't believe me."
"Of course not." Severus rolled his eyes. "One of her precious Gryffindors, not to mention a Quidditch star? She'll never believe it without absolute proof."
"I'm a Gryffindor, too," Hermione said, her voice sullen.
"Yes, but she'd still prefer to assume there's another explanation."
"What other explanation could there be?! It happened in the Gryffindor dormitory, and everyone else was sleeping! Besides, none of them could've known about the Map or Cloak. Ginny was the only one…"
"I know."
Hermione didn't respond, sitting across from him with her arms folded over her chest. She'd never looked more miserable, clearly on the verge of tears as she bit her lower lip to stop it from trembling.
"What about Ginevra? Was she questioned about any of this?"
"Professor McGonagall said she'd rather not disturb her until after the Quidditch game."
"Typical."
"I don't understand. I mean, I really thought she was trying to make peace with me."
"I'm sure she was," Severus said, "on the condition that you agreed with her."
"Yeah, that's where I went wrong. I told her I was never going to marry her stupid brother. She didn't take it well."
"Apparently not, though that's no fault of yours. Your conflict with Weasley has nothing to do with her."
"It's never going to stop, is it? If I go through with this…" Hermione trailed off, eyes widening as she clapped a hand over her mouth.
"In here," he said, flinging open the door to his quarters. She rushed past him, falling to her knees in front of the toilet. He hovered in the doorway, painful retching sounds making him cringe as he wondered what to do. Finally, she leaned back against the wall, eyes still closed as she took a deep, shuddering breath.
"That was embarrassing."
"No, it wasn't."
"I feel disgusting."
He started to object, though to be fair, he could see why she felt that way. Her skin was sheened with sweat, the front of her jumper splattered with vomit. Some of it had even gotten in her hair, damp curls clinging to her face and neck.
"Do you wish to bathe?"
"Can I?"
"I don't see why not."
She hesitated, glancing at the shower. "But what if someone…"
"They're all at the Quidditch game."
"My clothes?"
"I'll take care of it."
He stepped out of the bathroom, waiting just outside as she handed him her jeans and jumper. Casting a cleansing charm, he tried not to dwell on her close proximity, though that was easier said than done. The thought of her naked just a few feet away, warm water cascading over her skin…
What was wrong with him? She'd just been sick. Not that that had any effect on his attraction to her, but that wasn't the point. This was neither the time or the…
Well, no. It was the perfect place. Hadn't he arranged it that way? A well-timed "detention", wards on his office door… he'd done everything in his power to make sure they wouldn't be disturbed for the next few hours.
Of course, that was before that wretched girl had sabotaged her belongings, before she'd gotten ill. Whatever he'd been hoping might happen today…
"I feel so much better."
He tried not to stare as she emerged from the bathroom, her body wrapped in a towel. An intriguing sight, though of course, it didn't mean anything. What else was she supposed to wear? He still had her clothes, dangling from his hand half forgotten as he struggled for a response.
"Potion."
"What?" she said, using a second towel to dry her hair.
Clearing his throat, he tried again. "The potion. Did you forget to take it?"
"It was destroyed."
"Of course." He rummaged around in his pockets, producing a couple vials. "Take some now," he said. "No point in getting sick again."
"Thanks."
Uncapping one of the vials, she settled herself on the couch. After a moment's hesitation, he sat down beside her, waiting quietly as she downed the potion.
"Severus?"
His name on her lips… would he ever get used to that sound? He hoped not, doing his best to appear unaffected as a jolt of pleasure flooded through him.
"Yes?"
"You've seen me. New Year's Eve, you saw…" She trailed off, blushing furiously.
"I did."
"Do you remember what I looked like?"
"As if I could forget."
"Could… could you look at me again? I need to know how much I've changed, whether it's obvious, or…"
He knew what she was getting at, troubled by the desperation in her voice. It couldn't be more clear that she dreaded the coming months, scrambling to hold onto her former self for as long as possible.
"All right," he said. "Show me."
She rose from the couch, eyes squeezed shut as she dropped the towel.
"Well?"
"Give me a minute."
He took a deep breath, senses reeling as his eyes swept over her body. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, all soft, pale skin and perfectly formed curves.
Once he'd recovered somewhat, he began to notice the changes. Her breasts were bigger, nipples more prominent, her lower abdomen slightly more rounded than it had been before.
"May I touch?"
"Yes."
He nodded, fingers skimming the contours of her stomach.
"See? I'm already starting to show."
She was, though he couldn't bring himself to say so. He shook his head instead, splaying his hand out so it lay as flat as possible against her skin.
"I see no difference."
Years ago, he'd used those words to hurt her. Now they gave her comfort, her body relaxing as she flashed him a tiny smile.
"Really?"
Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to her navel. It was an impulse, done without conscious thought, yet everything changed in that moment. The air was suddenly thick with tension, breath catching in her throat as she buried her hands in his hair.
"No difference at all," he murmured against her skin.
Another lie. He knew it as he kissed his way up her torso, drawing a nipple into his mouth. She was more sensitive now, letting out a painful sounding gasp as he sucked a little harder.
"Too much?"
"Yes. No, I…"
"Shall I stop?"
She shook her head. "As long as we won't get caught…"
"We won't."
Avoiding her breasts, he focused on her mouth instead as he pulled her into his lap. He kissed her deeply, sliding his hands over her hips, unable to suppress a groan as she shifted against him. The first time was an accident, but then it was deliberate, her hips rocking in an unmistakable rhythm.
Maddening, intoxicating, but it wasn't enough. Not when he was still fully clothed, yards of black fabric dulling the sensation.
"Bedroom."
He didn't know how they got there, nor when he'd disposed of his robes, his frock coat, his boots. The next thing he knew, she was lying beside him, unbuttoning his shirt with nimble fingers.
He froze.
"What's wrong?"
"Perhaps I should… extinguish the candles."
"Why?"
He couldn't respond, bombarded by a lifetime's worth of insecurities. Those cruel taunts during his school days, countless whispers he'd overheard throughout his teaching career. Scrawny. Greasy. Monstrously ugly. She knew what he looked like, of course, but she'd never seen him fully undressed. No one had.
"Are you covered in boils?"
"No."
"Warts? Scales?"
He rolled his eyes, giving his head a little shake.
"Then I don't care."
She meant it. He could see that, pausing only briefly before he shrugged out of his shirt. Too skinny, too hairy, a couple of hideous looking scars… she really didn't care, running her hands over his chest, skimming his waistband with the tips of her fingers.
This time, he didn't hesitate. It was the one area where he had nothing to be ashamed of, a consolation prize for all his other physical shortcomings. He rid himself of his trousers, feeling smug as her eyes widened.
So Weasley didn't measure up? Interesting. Rather petty of him, too, though he couldn't bring himself to care. That boy had always been spoiled, selfish, utterly mediocre, and after everything he'd put Hermione through…
"Are you okay?"
"What?"
"You're scowling," she said. "Did I do something wrong?"
"Of course not. Don't be foolish."
"But you looked…"
Silencing her with his lips, he refused to break the kiss until he was certain she'd lost her train of thought. From there, he moved to her jawline, her throat, remembering her earlier sensitivity as his fingers ghosted over her breasts.
He did have flaws. Beyond his unfortunate appearance, he was petty, spiteful, and his ability to hold a grudge was unparalleled. But he had good points, too, virtues he hoped would be enough to override all his shortcomings. He was nothing if not loyal, devoted to a fault. His willingness to put his own needs aside for the sake of someone he loved…
That last one was particularly important, her body tensing as he removed her underwear. He could tell she was bracing herself, eyes squeezed shut, lower lip caught between her teeth.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
"I know."
She didn't believe him. That much was obvious, though to be fair, she had no basis for comparison. She'd never been with anyone but Weasley, an experience that had clearly been unpleasant, perhaps even traumatic.
This time would be different. He'd make sure of that. It didn't matter how aroused he was, his need to be inside her bordering on desperation. He'd just have to wait a bit longer, delaying his own pleasure as he focused on hers.
Dipping his head, he kissed her stomach, ignoring the tiny swell as he moved lower. He stroked her thighs with the tips of his fingers, urging them apart before he buried his face between them.
He didn't have a clue what he was doing, struggling to remember the occasional whispers he'd overheard. Was he supposed to use his tongue? Yes, but how? Maybe he should…
Hermione gasped.
Feeling encouraged, he tried again, dragging his tongue along the crevice. He rubbed it back and forth, recalling something else he'd read in… bloody hell, he couldn't remember the source, too distracted by her soft moans as he focused his attention on one particular spot. He teased the nub with the tip of his tongue, applying a little more pressure as her body started to tremble.
No, he'd never done this, but he was a quick learner. He also knew how to read even the most subtle reactions, allowing her wordless cues to guide him.
It didn't take long. More speed, more friction… she cried out, back arching as she quivered from head to toe. The sight of her pleasure was intoxicating, her sweet taste heightening his arousal as he lowered his head again.
He didn't stop until he'd brought her to the brink again, kissing his way up her body as he positioned himself between her thighs. God, he needed to be inside her. He ached for it, unable to suppress a whimper as the head of his erection brushed against her slick skin.
"If you want me to stop…" He paused, drawing a ragged breath. "Tell me now."
"Don't stop."
He could've wept with relief, eyes fixed on hers as he eased his hips forward. Just a little at a time, pausing as he felt her stretch to accommodate him…
It wasn't just for her sake that he was taking it slow. He did it for himself, too, afraid he'd lose control too soon if he wasn't careful. How was he supposed to make it last when she felt so good? He'd never had to…
Severus lost his train of thought, groaning as she lifted her hips to meet his. She liked what he was doing. She wanted more. That realization was enough to push him over the edge, though he managed to restrain himself, setting a slow, steady rhythm she seemed to enjoy. Those little moans, dark eyes hazy and unfocused…
"Severus…"
That single word and he was lost. He moved faster, drove deeper, senses reeling as he felt her begin to shudder. Kissing her roughly, he gasped into her mouth, hips jerking of their own volition as wave after wave of pleasure flooded through him.
He didn't know how long he lay there, unable to move or speak as he rested his head on her chest. All he knew was the vibration of her heart, pounding as furiously as his own.
Gradually, their heartbeats slowed, his breathing returning to normal. Only then did he find the strength to lift his head, frowning as he scrutinized her features.
"Are you all right?"
She nodded, flashing him a smile. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, her expression utterly sated.
"That was…"
She didn't finish. Didn't need to, really. The look on her face told him all he needed to know, making him feel… he didn't have the words to describe it, holding her close as his mouth found hers.
This kiss was far more intimate than their previous ones, urgency replaced by… tenderness? Yes, that was what it was, an emotion he'd never experienced and certainly hadn't known he was capable of.
"Severus?"
"Hmmm?"
"How much longer do we have?"
He sighed, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. "An hour, perhaps."
"I guess we should talk about…"
"Your decision?"
She nodded.
"A decision you haven't made yet, I take it."
"It's complicated." She sat up, wrapping herself in the bed sheet. "No matter what I choose, I'll lose so much."
"Such as?"
"If I don't take the potion, I'll be giving up a part of myself. My education, a career, everything I've been working toward all these years…"
"It's a child, not a death sentence."
Severus wanted her to take the potion, obviously, but it wasn't his choice to make. It seemed better to remain neutral, allowing her to consider all possibilities before she reached a conclusion.
"Yeah," she said. "Molly or Ron could take care of it while I was working, and I'm sure I could get a job at the Ministry."
"But?" he prompted.
"But I couldn't go away to university. I wouldn't be able to travel or live anywhere else, at least for the foreseeable future. I'd be stuck."
"So it's your freedom you don't want to lose."
"Well, that and…" She trailed off, sighing heavily.
"And?"
"I'm afraid I'll end up hating them."
"The Weasleys?"
"Yes. Even if they could get past me not marrying Ron, I'd still be tied to them. They'd expect to be involved in all my decisions, especially how I chose to parent. I'm already sick of them telling me what to do, acting like they have some ownership over me and the way I live my life. The thought of dealing with that for years, decades…"
He nodded. "And the alternative?"
"I could take the potion, get my life back, do whatever I want with my future."
"That hardly sounds like a loss."
"I'd be losing them," she said. "Taking that potion is the one thing they'd never, ever forgive."
"And what does that tell you?"
"It's not fair."
"It's also not your problem," he said. "They're to blame for expecting so much, disregarding your clearly stated wishes, using this unfortunate situation to manipulate you…"
"I don't think they're doing it on purpose," she said quietly. "They honestly believe I'll change my mind once I get used to the idea."
"So they're in denial. Again, not your problem."
"It shouldn't be, but it is. I don't want to lose them, even if I know they're in the wrong."
"I see." He took a deep breath, resisting the urge to go off on another rant.
"Do you?"
"Well, no."
"Ron and I grew up together. There's history between us, especially with the war and all the friends we lost. The rest of the Weasleys… I know they're not perfect, but they're the closest thing to family I have. Now that my parents are gone…" She trailed off, her eyes filling with tears.
Suddenly, he did get it. Childhood attachments were hard to shake, no matter how much misery they caused. Didn't he know that better than anyone?
"So those are your options," he said. "Lose your freedom or lose the Weasleys?"
"Yeah."
She hadn't counted the child as a potential loss, making it clear that she had no wish to be a mother. It wasn't a question of whether she could bear to give it up, nor whether she felt any desire to keep it. All that mattered was how her decision would affect her relationship with the Weasleys.
"May I ask you a question?"
She nodded.
"If the Weasleys weren't a factor, what would you do?"
"Take the potion."
"If you could have the child and still live the life you wanted, free from their interference…"
"I'd still take the potion," she said.
"Why?"
"Well, it might sound selfish…"
"Tell me anyway."
"I spent half my childhood taking care of them," she said. "Ron and Harry, I mean. They relied on me for everything, always expecting me to figure out the answers and tell them what to do. It might sound like an exaggeration, but I really did feel like a mother sometimes."
"An exaggeration? Severus shook his head, resisting the urge to laugh. "Those dunderheads would've died if it wasn't for you."
She smiled. "Maybe. Anyway, it's a lot of pressure, having someone depend on you that way."
"I know," he said. "I spent much of my life in a similar position, ensuring the survival of those who couldn't seem to function without my assistance. It's…"
"Exhausting," she finished for him.
"Yes."
"I just need a break, a chance to focus on myself for a while. I'm sorry, but I'm not ready…"
"Sounds like you've made your decision."
"I have," she said. "Deep down, I guess I already knew what I was going to do. I just wasn't ready to face it. I hate the thought of losing them, but…"
"Maybe you don't have to."
"How can you say that? The minute they find out…"
He shook his head. "They don't have to find out."
There was indeed a third option, one she clearly hadn't considered. Her honesty was a blind spot, so much that she'd missed what seemed to him like an obvious solution.
"Won't they know? If I'm no longer pregnant…"
"They cannot blame you for having a miscarriage. In fact, I believe Molly has had a couple herself."
Hermione's eyes widened. "You think I should lie?"
"How would you be lying?" he said. "That potion will cause you to miscarry. Whether it was intentional or not is none of their business."
"I guess that would be easier for them. They'd still be disappointed, I'm sure, but at least they wouldn't feel like I'd robbed them of something or betrayed them, or…"
Personally, Severus didn't give a damn how the Weasleys might feel. It angered him that they'd put Hermione in this position, leaving her no choice but to conceal the truth if she wanted to retain their friendship. Still, a little deception would spare her unnecessary pain. As long as that was the case? He was all for it.
"Is it ready yet? When can I take it?"
"It's ready," he said, "though we'll need to wait for the right time. It's not like you can take it and go skipping off to class – there will be several hours of discomfort, followed by a day or two of recovery."
"It needs to be soon."
"I know. Perhaps over Easter break…"
She shook her head. "Sooner."
"That's only two weeks away," he pointed out.
"How about next weekend?"
It was less than ideal, though Severus couldn't bring himself to refuse. Not when he sensed her desperation, her eyes pleading with him to help her put this miserable situation behind her.
"I suppose I can arrange a detention for next Saturday."
"I'll be sure to give you an excuse."
He smirked, shooting a glance at the clock. "Speaking of detentions, I'm afraid this one is over."
"Right. Where are my clothes?"
Severus kissed Hermione goodbye, waiting for the door to close behind her before he settled himself at his desk. He couldn't recall the last time he'd been in such a good mood, humming to himself as he sifted through the pile of mail the house elves had delivered. The latest issue of Potions Weekly, an advertisement from Obscurus Books…
It was going to be all right. He truly believed that, glad Hermione had decided to take the potion. Whatever this was between them, this relationship…
He lost his train of thought, frowning as he inspected the plain white scroll. No return address, no seal…
WATCH OUT FOR SNAKES
Just four little words, but they sent a shiver up his spine, the scar on his neck itching in response. He examined the handwriting, though that wasn't particularly helpful. He'd never seen it before, angry black slashes interspersed with spatters of ink.
It wasn't Ashwood. It couldn't be. The boy was locked up in Azkaban, and besides, this wasn't like him. Letter delivered by house elves, no trace of private information? No, Ashwood had enjoyed invading his personal space, taunting him with all manner of things he wasn't supposed to know.
WATCH OUT FOR SNAKES
There was nothing private about that. It wasn't even particularly clever. Everyone knew what happened to him in the Shrieking Shack… even a fool would be able to deduce that he wasn't a fan of snakes. The letter could've come from anyone, perhaps even one of his students, revenge for some detention he'd assigned or House Points he'd taken.
Yes, that was the most likely explanation. Severus shrugged, vanishing the scroll with a flick of his wand.