From this day on
Chapter 6 -'Monologues' and blankets-
Hermione Granger had never been so scared in her life.
In less than a second Severus Snape had jumped out of bed, and pointed his wand in the direction where the double of his wife had just appeared out of thin air. "Who are you?!" he rasped dangerously and stepped forward.
"H-Hermione Granger .." she stuttered, terrified. She backed away from him with fear, but found the bookshelf in her back. "Professor Snape, I'm sorry, sir .. I .."
"You're lying!" he interrupted her sharply. "There's no Hermione Granger! My – wife-" he stressed the word with dangerous sharpness, "is laying in bed over there. And I can assure you, if you try to do any harm to her, I'll rip your throat out with my bare hands! Don't think I'm joking, Miss…"
Before she could even think of any response to this, the dark shape of the present Professor Snape appeared next to her and stepped protectively in her way. "Don't hurt her!!" he rasped in an equally dangerous tone at his future self. "She's telling the truth!"
Hermione watched, terrified, how the two shapes of Severus Snape fixed each other in a death glare. Two identical wands were pointed at the opponent's heart – prepared to kill.
All the horrible accidents McGonagall had told her about, rushed into her mind. Her own voice echoed in her head. She remembered her warnings to Harry not to interfere with anything, back in their third year. She remembered how she had told him that people might even kill their former or future selves if they believed they faced Dark Magic. And clearer than anything else - her own voice, mixed with the one of Professor Snape – 'We mustn't be seen!'
It was all her fault. Confused and scared, she stepped forward. "Professor-" she pleaded desperately and tugged at his left sleeve - the one of his wand-hand. "Please don't .."
"Miss Granger!" he gasped with shock, "what are you doing, foolish girl!?"
For a brief moment their eyes locked and she saw an amount of concern and worry in the black deeps she hadn't ever considered possible.
In a rough movement he shoved her behind his back. "Stay there!" The very next second, his wand was ripped from his hand and he stared at his future self in shock.
Brave-hearted, Hermione jumped forward – her wand in hand. "Don't harm him!" she panted "he's you!"
Her knees buckled with fear as she gazed into the dark, angry eyes of the future Snape.
She felt terribly helpless against this man, who - she knew – had once been a Death Eater, but stood her ground. What could she possibly hold against him, with his duelling skills and extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts?
But before any of them could cast as much as a single spell, her own time's Snape grabbed her around the waist and pushed her roughly into the nook behind the armchair.
"Ouch-" she gasped with shock, "Professor what-"
"Keep your head down!" he commanded sharply "And get back to our time – now!"
"But Professor," she stammered disturbed, "what about you -"
He forced a sharp laugh "I won't need that Time-Turner anymore, Miss Granger! What do you think he'll do to me? He thinks this is Dark Magic at work girl, now hurry! – Go!!"
"No," she sobbed "I won't leave you here like that –I - I - can't…"
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The future Severus hesitated.
The desperation in her voice seemed so real. She acted so much like his Hermione probably would in a situation like this. She wouldn't leave him either – he was sure about that.
And he – his eyes flickered insecurely across the two identical wands in his hands – he would never allow her to get involved in the fight. He would have acted just the same way as that man over there.
His eyes glided back to the ones of that familiar looking stranger in front of him and fixed his gaze. He didn't want to harm them. But could he risk to trust them? It wasn't just his own safety he had to worry about. Hermione's and Tina's lives were at stake as well. And the baby's –
He didn't know what to do.
A sudden noise from the bed broke the tension. Hermione climbed out of the dark four-poster and hurried at his side. "Oh Severus, that's us. Remember the dreams …"
"Hermione, " he gasped, "get away!" But then he suddenly frowned, "Do you really think so?"
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Carefully, Hermione lifted her head above the back of the armchair.
The pair across the room was talking to each other in hushed voices. The future Snape hadn't let them out of his view, but she noticed the thoughtful cast to his eyes.
A wave of relief rushed through her as he slowly lowered the wands. Still trembling, she got to her feet and stepped timidly out of the nook. She didn't even notice the tears that were steaming down her cheeks as she took an unsteady step towards the dark-haired man, who stared at her with a look of wonder and disbelief in his black eyes.
"P-Professor" she sobbed, disturbed, her hands hesitantly reaching out for him. "Are you all right .. ?!"
In a rushed movement he dashed forward and wrapped his arms around her. "Miss Granger – Hermione-" he gasped hoarsely and pulled her close. "What the hell were you thinking, girl?" His voice was an odd mixture of anger and concern.
Sobbing, Hermione wrapped her arms around him and he just pulled her closer. "I'm sorry …" she snuggled her face in his shoulder and he cupped the back of her head carefully with his hand.
He still watched his future self across the room above her head, but when that one's face broke into a broad grin, he focused his eyes onto the disturbed girl in his arms. She was trembling violently and clung to him as she had done on their terrifying journey.
"I'm sorry, too," he whispered into her hair "I didn't intend to hurt you. Is it bad?"
"What?" she asked in surprise and lifted her tearstained face up towards him. His dark eyes were full of concern and something - well, she didn't know what to think of it. He had never looked at her that way before. "What are you talking about?" she whispered confused.
"I needed to push you behind that armchair, I … wanted to keep you safe, Her-m-Miss Granger," he told her desperately, "I thought he might cast a spell at us any second," he added. "Are you hurt?"
Hermione's eyes grew wide with surprise at his soft, almost gentle tone. He seemed to be actually concerned about her. Her heart fluttered at the strange, but wonderful idea that he might possibly, actually care about her…
"Oh," she gasped, confused, and hid her face at his chest again. She felt a slight pain in her left ankle and had also hurt her left wrist as she had landed on the floor, but she wouldn't tell him that right now. Determinedly, she shook her head. "No," she muttered still crying, "I'm fine, .. I …"
"Then why-" he began softly, but trailed off at her violent sobbing.
"You .. you told me to leave you here .. you…"
"Shhht," he muttered softly and started to rub her back awkwardly. "It's all right – I'm not harmed," then added more harshly, "Get a grip on yourself now, girl -"
When he felt her tense at this, he whispered apologetically, "they are watching us, you know?" and let go of her.
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Quite in contrast to their own confusion, their future selves seemed to find all of this very amusing. The future Hermione approached them with a broad grin on her face, dragging her still slightly suspicious but no less amused husband behind her. "Oh you're from the past, aren't you?"
As both of them simply nodded at that, she grinned again and held out her hand to her former self. "I'm Hermione Snape. I guess that's a kind of shock to you," she sniggered.
The younger Hermione shook 'her' hand and nodded. "Oh erw, yes, indeed, one could say so," she blushed. "I nearly dropped dead, when I met Tina this morning," she blurted out.
"Oh," the future Severus frowned, "so that was you?!"
Hermione blushed furiously as she looked at him. "Erw, yes, I'm sorry, sir."
He flinched at the address and the future Hermione shook with laughter at his startled look. "Oh wow, that's weird!" she gasped.
The present Severus glared at her in annoyance. "I'm sorry if I miss the fun in it!" he snapped.
The future Hermione didn't seem to be affected by his angry scowl, though. "Oh don't look at me like that, Severus," she grinned.
His eyebrows rose in annoyance at that. "I'd really appreciate it, if you wouldn't call me by my first name, M-" he trailed off, frowning. Damn thing – he could hardly call that woman 'Miss Granger' anymore, could he?
"What else shall I address you then?" she mocked, "As Professor Snape?" She shrugged, "Well, if you insist on it. But I have to ask you to call me the same then."
If looks could have killed, she might have dropped dead on the spot. Still laughing, she turned to her husband, "Come on, Sev, you should try and talk to yourself, too. It's really something." Reluctantly, he stepped forward and nodded quite tensely at his younger self. "Severus -"
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The present Hermione couldn't help but stare at the two identical-looking men and her own future self in front of her eyes. It was the weirdest thing she'd ever experienced. And for a close friend of Harry Potter that really meant something. Back in her third year, she had supposed it to be odd to watch a version of herself, who was only three hours younger than her, in the distance. But - this - was simply incredible.
To be actually talking to a version of herself, who wasn't only five years her senior, but also married - to Snape of all people – mother of his child – and – pregnant on top of it all - was really terrifying. Well, at least the pregnancy wasn't visible yet. She would have probably – died - of embarrassment, otherwise. Whenever she looked at 'Mrs. Snape', it was just like looking into a mirror. And having to face an almost identical version of herself with a visibly rounded waist would have been presumably even worse.
She forced her attention back to the conversation.
"What brings you here, anyway?" the future Snape asked.
"I thought you knew," his former self frowned.
"Well, let's say, we have an idea. But we want to be sure."
"We're here for the potion," Snape declared tensely.
"Ah- What potion?" his other self raised his brows at him. Both time-travellers' faces fell at that.
"Stop it Sev, don't tease them," the married Hermione smiled at her husband.
"And that out of your mouth, my dear…I'm impressed," he mocked.
She turned to their past selves and smiled again. "Don't be mad with us. We don't mean to taunt you. This is probably really hard for you, but yet so funny for us."
"Dumbledore sent us," Snape glared at her.
"We know," she added kindly. "We both started to dream of his plan about a week ago."
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The present Severus frowned at that. "I don't ever dream, Mrs. Sn- Hermione," he added with a sour expression. He wouldn't address that woman by 'his' name if he could help it. "The Dreamless Sleep Potion sees to that."
"Not in this time, Severus," his future wife smiled kindly at him. A trace of panic filled his voice as he asked: "Will I become that used to it by now that it won't work anymore?!"
To his relief the young woman shook her head. "No, you won't need any of your concoctions to fight your nightmares anymore."
"What will you do to drive them back from my mind – just put your arms around me?!" He sneered nastily at her.
"Yes, Severus," she told him softly, "and after some time that will be enough for you."
He was unable to meet her gaze at that. Furious and embarrassed, he turned his head, only to find his eyes locked with those of the younger Hermione, which wasn't any better in his opinion.
"Well then, I suggest, we discuss everything else in the morning and go to bed for now," his future self declared cheerfully.
"Emm, as you're speaking of it - about sleeping arrangements-" the present Severus began quite awkwardly.
"What should be discussed about them? We'll return to our bed and you two can sleep in the study," his other self smiled at him.
"But," Severus complained, "Shouldn't we better say, Miss Granger and – em - your wife-"
"You mean the actual and the intended Mrs. Snape," the his other self interjected evilly.
"Em- whatever," he muttered uncomfortably. "They- could sleep here – in the bedroom and we in the study."
"Oh no, no, no .." the future Hermione cut in at that suggestion, and her husband looked at her with some amusement.
"That's completely out of the question," he told his stunned, younger self, "I'll stay with my wife. And you two can arrange your sleeping places in the study however you please."
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The older Hermione smiled at them. "Don't worry. You can start working on the potion in the morning. Take some rest now. Just Tina mustn't know about the whole matter. She is still too little, she wouldn't understand it. And it might complicate things I suppose, if she told anyone she had seen two sets of parents."
The younger Hermione blushed at that and nodded at 'herself'. "Of course, it would probably scare her."
"Probably," her other self agreed. "She wakes up quite early in the mornings. So if you meet her, please act as if you're us, will you?" She suddenly grinned, "Well you 'are' us, of course, but you know what I mean."
Hermione nodded once more and shot a nervous glance at her Professor.
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Severus features darkened at the idea, and his future self smiled at the unwilling expression on his face. "Well then, off to the study. Do I have to lead the way?" he mocked.
"No, but-"
"Don't complain about it," his future self hissed into his ear as he led them next door. "You can sleep at opposite ends of the room, if you please. It's to no use anyway – you see how things will turn out for the both of you – and I can tell you, you'll be more than happy about it – so you had better get used to the idea."
"I just can't believe what I'm seeing," Severus sneered.
"Well, try it," his future self suggested sarcastically.
Severus cast him another death glare at that, which just seemed to amuse his other self further.
"Oh and please close that door over there, or you might wake Tina. Her room is next door." "In my storeroom?!" Severus flew out with an annoyed gasp.
"I'm sorry," his future self smiled cheerfully, "but right now that's not your storeroom, but our nursery. We simply couldn't resist, it's such a nice room for her. And you know what? We're going to change the small library next door into one, too. Now that we'll have a second baby -"
He clearly seemed to enjoy their embarrassment. "Well, see you in the morning then. Make yourself comfortable. Blankets are over there, by the couch. There is a second bathroom next to your former storeroom, but you probably know that. Good night. Miss Granger - Severus-"
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With that, he left, closing the door behind him. Hermione and Snape stared at each other in shock. Things could hardly get any worse, could they?
Snape sat down in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace and rested his head in his hands.
He looked strangely vulnerable and desperate in that position and Hermione felt an odd impulse to give him comfort in some way. Reluctantly, she went over towards him and placed a hand at his upper arm.
He flinched back as if she had burned him, and glared at her.
Startled, she stepped back. "I'm sorry – about … the storeroom, Professor …" she stuttered nervously.
His eyes softened a bit at that and his lips switched slightly. "Well, you needn't be sorry about that, Miss Granger," he told her in a quite friendly voice. "It's not you fault alone, I suppose."
Hermione blushed furiously at that comment.
"I know," he smiled almost sympathetically at her, "it's difficult to imagine for me as well. I'm sorry, Miss Granger. I'm sure you're scared to death about that revelation. We'll have to sort all this information out at some point, but not right now."
In a nervous gesture he ran his hands through his hair. "I just -can't – discuss that matter right now. Do you understand?"
He looked up at her and his dark eyes fixed hers in an almost pleading gaze. Hermione nodded timidly and croaked in a hoarse voice. "Y-yes, it's all right - Professor."
"Don't call me that-" he rasped and she flinched once again.
"W-What shall I call you instead?" she asked shyly.
"I don't know-" he covered his eyes with his hand and rubbed his temples furiously. "I really don't know," he repeated, "but not 'Professor'- I just don't want you to call me that – it makes it all even worse ..."
"I know, what you mean Pro- er," she trailed off, helplessly and bit her lip.
"Don't be afraid of me, Miss Granger," he muttered with an almost sad note in his voice.
"It's not that I'd hate you – you know? I just, I didn't expect – this – It's all so terribly confusing…"
"I'm not afraid of you," Hermione responded quietly.
He lifted his head to look at her. There was a degree of surprise in his eyes that made her feel sad in some way. He seemed unable to believe that anyone could feel comfortable in his presence. But if she was honest with herself, she had to admit that she did. On their terrifying journey as well as in the awkward situation beneath the cloak later on, she had felt lots better as soon as he had held her close. She had actually felt safe and sheltered in his arms. And she had liked his nearness a lot. "And I don't hate you either…" she added softly.
This time, he really smiled at her. He looked all different, when he did so. He looked far younger and much more alive – even handsome. Those harsh features were appealing in their own way. Just as the very special scent she had noticed earlier, his face seemed to express a kind of strength and willpower that affected her in a strange way. His lips – if not pressed into a thin line or sneer – looked kind of sensitive. She blushed at the thought of what she had felt when those lips had brushed along her ear, when he had whispered to her, while he had covered her eyes with his hand.
Even his voice wasn't as cold and spiteful as it usually was, but quite warm and friendly.
"You can sleep on the couch over there, Miss Granger, "he told her calmly. "I'll stay in this armchair."
Hermione smiled back at him and turned towards the large workbench at the other side of the room. Her eyes fell onto a photograph in an elegant ebony frame and widened with shock. This was certainly no help to calm her nerves at the moment.
Quickly, she drew her gaze away from the picture. She picked two plain feather quills up from the desk and transfigured them into different-coloured toothbrushes.
Once more, she risked a brief glance at the picture and her cheeks turned slightly pink with embarrassment and confusion. She chuckled slightly at the thought of what her parents might think of the whole situation. Even in a mess like this, she didn't forget about her teeth.
Snape, who only noticed the slight movement of her shoulders, but couldn't see what she was doing, rose from his seat and crossed the room in a hurry. "Miss Granger?" he asked concerned, "is everything all right?" He sneered at his own comment, she could hear it in the way he was speaking. "Well it most obviously isn't, but – what I meant to say was -"
His voice softened. "You aren't crying, are you?" he placed a comforting hand at her shoulder. His touch was warm and soft and – she gasped for breath - welcomed. "Miss Granger?" he asked carefully and started to stroke her back in an almost timid movement.
And then, even more softly: "Hermione. Don't cry- please – don't cry …"
She turned around to look at him. His eyes were dark, soft and – gentle. "I'm not crying," she told him softly, "I'm just .." she held up the toothbrushes and for the first time in her life, she heard him laugh without a trace of sarcasm.
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Hermione pretended to be asleep, but watched Snape staring into the flames, lost to his thoughts. He placed his hands at the dark oak beam that ran around the fireplace. She could see his knuckles whiten at the firmness of his grip. He scowled at the various photographs that were placed there. With a grave sigh, he let go of the beam and picked one of the pictures up. Thoughtfully, he stared at the photograph in the small silver frame, before he put it back into its place.
He passed the room with careful, silent steps, returned to his armchair, sat down, ran his hands through his hair and got up again. He risked a brief glance in Hermione's direction, walked over towards the workbench, shoved a few things like quills and ink bottles around, picked up the ebony framed picture she had spotted there earlier and frowned again.
She knew very well, what that photograph showed. It was the one she had seen when she had transfigured the quills earlier, and she couldn't blame him for being confused.
It showed them on their wedding day and as it had been taken with a wizard's camera, it was moving. The little images of themselves were beaming with happiness and they were kissing all the time. She had also noticed how often he placed a hand at her belly. There wasn't any visible sign of pregnancy, but she was almost sure, 'Mrs Snape' had been already expecting at their wedding. Countless little gestures and tender glances had made her quite sure about it.
For all she could tell, Snape must have noticed them as well. He stared at the picture for some minutes with an unreadable expression on his face. Finally, he put it back in its place, turned towards the fireplace and sent a quite insecure glance in her direction.
She couldn't help but shiver slightly. The dungeons weren't the warmest place in the castle and she had only a single blanket to keep her warm.
When Snape suddenly stepped closer, she pinched her eyes shut. But he hadn't noticed her watching him. Surprised, she felt him placing his own blanket around her. When she dared to glance up at him from under lowered lashes, she saw a look of unfamiliar tenderness on his normally hard features. He reached out to brush a ringlet behind her ear that tickled her face at every breath she took, but stopped in mid-movement. He flexed his fingers in an awkward gesture as if not daring to touch her. For whatever reason that might be. She remembered very well, how his warm fingertips had brushed softly across her skin earlier. Her throat got all tight at the memory of it.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, he drew his hand back, his dark eyes never leaving her face.
He looked at her just the way the future Snape had looked at his wife. So caring, so tender, so – loving.
Right now, she couldn't imagine she'd find that look in his eyes when he supposed her to be awake, but it was certainly something worth wishing for.
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Severus Snape watched the sleeping form of Hermione Granger on the couch. She was curled up on her left side, her face was turned towards the room and her eyes were shut. Her shoulders rose and fell in a steady rhythm.
Now that he knew her to be asleep, there was no need to mask his features. He simply studied her face and watched her sleeping.
The shivering had stopped, when he had placed that second blanket around her body. He didn't care that he had no cover for himself anymore. He didn't mind the cold. He was quite used to it – he even appreciated it. It helped him to keep his thoughts clear. He wouldn't sleep tonight, anyway. Briefly, he considered to get himself some Dreamless Sleep Potion, but hesitated. He needed to sort out so many thoughts – he could just as well start with it tonight. The sooner he knew how to deal with the situation, the sooner he would feel better about it. And all the better for her … He was terribly confused and certainly, she didn't feel any better.
This was all just so odd.
He had carefully looked at every single picture in the room and all of them showed Hermione and himself, or the little girl they would obviously have very soon. Like every picture in the wizarding world, the little images were moving and he had watched themselves kissing countless times.
One was their wedding photograph. Both of them were dressed in traditional wizarding wedding robes, their eyes filled with love and mirth as they smiled at each other. His hands were touching her belly strikingly often with brief, casual, but yet so meaningful little caresses.
Another photo showed him in front of one of the Christmas trees in the Great Hall, placing his arms around Hermione in a beautiful, dark-blue woollen robe. When the images of themselves had noticed him looking at them, Hermione had turned around in her husband's arms to look at him from out of the picture and he had gasped at the sight of her rounded waist. She was most obviously 'very' pregnant in that picture and he had watched in shock, how his future self had closed both of his arms around her from behind and kissed her softly on the cheek. Beaming, she had tilted her head back and cupped his face with one of her hands. Once more, they had kissed lovingly. He had spotted some of his colleagues in he background. Liana Sprout, who had been whispering behind her hand at Minerva McGonagall, who had frowned accusingly at him as soon as she had noticed him looking at the picture. And Hagrid, who had winked at him with a broad grin on his face. Finally, Albus had drawn everyone's attention back into the scene in picture and they had continued to celebrate the Christmas feast.
In another picture he was holding a bundle of fluffy, pink blankets with their newborn daughter in his arms, an expression of awe on his features. When he had noticed his younger self watching him, he had smiled at him and had turned that way, so Severus would get a short glimpse of the tiny, pink faced baby in the bundle of blankets. Her little head was already covered in short, jet-black curls.
There were several photos of Serpentina as a baby and many others that showed her growing up into the little girl she was now.
He had spotted one, in which he was whirling her around in his arms and high above his head, in the soft light of a late summer afternoon somewhere in the grounds. She couldn't be older than two years in that picture and was giggling and shrieking with fun.
One photo showed her riding on his shoulders on a sunny harvest day. He clearly recognized the bright orange and red leaves and the banks of the lake in the background. Suddenly the little girl had clawed both of her hands into his hair, and his expression had changed from amusement to a kind of helpless and quite painful smile, while he had desperately tried to stop her from tugging at his hair. Finally, Hermione had entered the picture from somewhere on the right and had and helped him to free his hair from their little daughter's grip. She had pulled Tina down into her arms and kissed him softly on the cheek, and he had smiled at her with an expression of utmost love and adoration.
In another picture, Tina and Hermione were splashing each other merrily with water at the lake on a bright summer's day.
His eyes had widened with surprise, when he had noticed Hermione, who was dressed in something that looked strikingly like underwear in his opinion. He had heard of those. This must be what muggles wore for swimming and sunbathing, he supposed. For all he knew, it was called a bikini, but he might be mistaken about that. Hers was of bright red cloth, and left very little to the imagination. Her skin had a slight, golden tan.
He had felt his throat get dry at the sight of her beautiful slender body and it's soft tempting curves in just the right places. She looked breathtakingly, unbelievably beautiful and – he had hated to admit it, but it was true – very seductive. The mere thought of touching her soft, slightly sun-tanned skin drove him crazy.
This was certainly more than strange.
He returned his gaze to the sleeping young woman on the couch. She was so young, so beautiful, so smart and kind … How on earth could she ever love someone like him? He frowned slightly.
There was an odd longing in his chest to just lift those covers and stretch himself out on the couch next to her. His heart started to beat in an excited rhythm at the mere idea of holding her close the whole night long. It was very tempting to simply slip under those covers, next to her sleeping form, and take her into his arms. There was certainly enough room for both of them and if he crept close to her, it might be quite comfortable and pleasurable. His lips twitched in amusement imagining what her reaction might be, if she woke up and found herself wrapped in his arms. It was most likely no good idea. But still – he had liked holding her so much when they had been hiding beneath the cloak.
He smiled at the memory of how good it had felt to feel her close to him. Would she snuggle herself into his embrace, like she had done earlier? And would her comforting nearness really be enough to keep the horrible nightmares away? The future Hermione's voice echoed through his mind. 'Yes, Severus – after some time that will be enough for you …'
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Hermione didn't dare to move at all. Her every nerve seemed to lay in waiting. He was so very close to her. His hand still hung in mid-movement above her cheek. She still wondered if he would actually touch her face or not, when he suddenly leaned forward.
Even through the thick material of two blankets she felt the softness of his touch. "Good night Hermione," he whispered barely audibly and traced his hand in an almost shy, caressing movement across her upper arm. She couldn't help but whimper in surprise. Hastily, he drew back and fled towards the armchair at the fireplace.
She watched him stare into the fading flames for what seemed to be hours. Finally, he leaned back into the depths of his armchair and she couldn't see his face anymore. But she could still see his hands resting at the sides of the armchair. The only noise was the soft cracking of the glowing logs every now and then. The soft, comforting sound and the warmth of the two blankets finally lulled her to sleep.
The room was dark when she woke again.
Or at least almost dark. Nothing but red glowing ashes were left in the hearth. There was some strange noise across the room, rushed, uneven breathing and some low, incoherent muttering. After a few moments, her eyes got used to the dim light and she could recognize the furniture as vague, dark shapes. The strange noise seemed to come from out of one of the armchairs at the still slightly glowing fireplace. It must be Snape, having a nightmare, she concluded – Severus – She felt a strange clinging at her heart at the thought. Wrapping herself in one of the blankets, she stepped over to his armchair to check on him.
He looked so different, when he was asleep. Younger and strangely vulnerable. She wondered what kind of nightmare might be haunting him. He tossed and turned his head restlessly, his hair was all dishevelled around his face, while various emotions slipped across his face. It caused the thin, steep lines between his eyes to deepen. His breathing was ragged and uneven.
When she leaned forward, she could see his eyes were rapidly moving behind his lids. He was definitely dreaming. His hands flexed aimlessly around the sides of his armchair.
"No," she heard him mutter frantically, "no, don't … you mustn't …" The words were barely audible. Then suddenly louder and clearer: "Hermione ..."
She gasped as she supposed him to be awake now. She was just about to mutter an excuse, when she noticed his eyes were still closed. He just turned his head away, then back to her again. His eyes were still moving restlessly beneath closed lids. "Hermione," he muttered once more. This time there was a sad, almost desperate note in his voice. "Not her – please-"
Hermione felt a shiver rip through her. He was actually dreaming of her. And for some reason, he seemed to be badly worried about her.
Tightness started to form inside of her throat and she suddenly felt a strange tenderness for him. But this time, it was completely different from the longing she had felt earlier that day. All she wanted right now, was to reach out and touch his cheek, to smooth the tousled strands of black hair down with gentle hands. She wanted to ease the worry he seemed to feel for some reason.
Hesitatingly, she reached out to cup his face in her hand, but didn't dare to actually touch him. She watched him silently for some more seconds, before a slight smile crossed her lips. He must be freezing in the cold room without a blanket. Maybe, there was at least one thing she could do for him.
Carefully avoiding every noise, she took the thick woollen blanket down from her shoulders and stepped closer to him. In a gentle movement, she placed the cover around his body and felt him freeze at the touch. She couldn't resist to run both of her hands softly down his upper arms to take the haunted look away from his face. It had been right to give him her blanket. Even through the material of his robes, his arms felt cold.
But only the very next second, she gasped with shock and pain. His hands shot up and caught her wrists in a bruising grip. She heard a sharp intake of breath and his eyes flew open in alarm. With another yell of pain, she tried to escape, but couldn't wrestle herself from his bruising grip.
Shaking with fright, she stared helplessly into the furious black eyes of Severus Snape.
Before she could make as much as single sound, she was dragged forward. In a careless movement, she was whirled around and slammed into the armchair, while Snape jumped to his feet and blocked her way. Both of her wrists were clasped by his right hand now, while his left pressed his wand to her throat.
"Don't move!" he hissed and she didn't dare to give as much as a whimper.
A/N: I'm very happy you like this story. Thank you for the kind and encouraging reviews.
Also thanks to SilentG, for doing the beta-reading.
*Joycelene* I know, it might sometimes be a little confusing to tell, which Hermione or Severus I'm referring to. I'm sorry about that. I try my best, but it's really hard to make it clear without constantly repeating 'his future self' or 'the present Hermione' or other phrases like that. In this chapter it might have been even worse, I suppose, cause they were all four talking to each other.
*hellsong* Penguins? Cerburus? No, no, I certainly don't want that! I'll continue the story.
Serpentina