Professor Snape
The Ministry of Magic cordially invites you to the annual Samhain celebration. Please join us is this time of community and rebirth.
Ministry of Magic BallroomOctober 31
7:00 pm
R.S.V.P. and formal costume required
Sincerely,
Arthur Weasley
Minister of Magic
Order of Merlin, First Class
~***~
After reading the invitation his initial reaction was a hasty, 'not bloody likely'. Upon further deliberation he wavered. Annual was a bit of a misnomer, considering this was the first celebration since Voldemort's disposal. It would be the first Samhain celebrated in six years, for it had taken that long to rid the world of a darkness that would never really go away. Six years since Harry Potter and company had grown up too fast and had to play in an adult's war.
What harm would come if he went? It's not as if anyone would recognize him in costume anyhow. It would only be one night he conceded. One night to see how the rest of the world lives. One night of freedom from his self-inflicted exile. And one night away from the group of dunderheads that cannot tell the difference between powdered lacewing and an infusion of wormwood. Why not go?
~***~
He sent off his acceptance and transfigured the mask he would wear, one not very different from the silver Death Eater's mask, but one that would conceal him nonetheless. He would wear his normal black trousers and shirt. His only concession was the newly purchased dress robes. They were black as always, but intricately woven with a heavy Egyptian cotton and lined in blood red silk. Why not take advantage of the vampire myth that is whispered in the halls? Tonight he would not be Dracula though; tonight he would be Lugh, the Sun God. All that would be different would be he had no Crone Goddess to mourn for him and never would.
He took a pinch of floo from the serpentine canister on the mantel and threw it into the licking flames.
"Ministry of Magic."
And in a flourish of black swishing robes he was gone from the dungeons of Hogwarts. He stepped from the large ornately decorated ministry fireplace and was thankful that he used a soot repellent charm.
He extracted the invitation from his inner robe pocket and quickly handed it too the grinning skeleton checking the guest list. So much for a completely tasteful event, he sneered beneath the mask. A quick scan from the eyeless skull confirmed his identity and granted access to the ballroom.
Regrettably he amended his thoughts on taste as he entered the ballroom. Everything appeared to be pleasantly elegant and if he had not wanted to remain anonymous he would have congratulated the Minister himself.
Round, black candles floated above head throughout the room casting a favorable ambience with the hazy spider web-like glow. Several legless tables, standing only by magic, were dispersed amongst the growing crowd and much to his liking he recognized no one and was confident the same went for him.
Passing one table two youths were conversing. One of which he was sure had the Weasley red hair, but which he couldn't be sure nor was too inclined to find out. Whichever Weasley it was, he was trying to convince the raven-haired beauty occupying his company on the benefits that came along with 'kinky vampire sex.' He rolled his eyes and thanked Merlin he was no longer subject to the frivolities of youth and the task of procuring ones company.
He moved around an enchanted wall and stopped just short of the refreshment table. Standing with her back to him was his goddess, not that he knew her, but he had to have her and that wasn't a sentiment that his normally conservative brain ever whispered. Maybe it was the heady smell of pumpkin spice, but he was drawn to her.
Strikingly clad in a long black silk sheath she radiated heat, the heat that rushed to beyond his waist. His mouth parched and he grabbed desperately at the floating tray of merlot. The bitter wine coated his throat and eased his tension, but he couldn't take his eyes off her. Pools of almost black, chocolate hair fell down her spine in careless waves that whispered to him to tame them.
She turned from the table and he hid in the shadows of the wall so as not to reveal himself. If her sinful back had done a number on him the plunging neckline he was now facing was downright torturous. A bold silver necklace was the only thing distracting him from staring blatantly at her barely covered breasts standing guard around the intricate metallurgic creation.
The silver pendant slithered between her slightly flushed breasts like a hissing snake eagerly waiting to sample her forbidden fruits. As if sensing someone watching her she turned towards his hidden direction, clutching what he imagined was flesh-warmed silver. The shadows were the only thing keeping him in shrouded secrecy and for now he liked that, because at least in secrecy he had a chance to have her.
She moved past him, not seeing him in the shadows, and stopped just before joining the merriment of the dancers. He stepped out from the shadows and came to stand beside her. He knew she had sensed him, yet she did not move away from him. In another life he imagined that they were long-time lovers and that this was a celebration of their future. All he needed to do was sweep in behind, whisper seductively into her ear, place a delicate trail of kisses down her neck, and guide her off to a slow waltz.
"Can I have this dance?"
She turned, almost into his arms, but not quite. She gave him a confident temptress smile. She was well aware of what she was and her affect on those around her. She could bring men to their knees with a cool curl of her lips, but there was an air about her that suggested that none of that mattered.
"You can have them all if you like," she replied with a tantalizing huskiness. He could barely nod in acceptance. Any more than that would have been impossible. She trapped him with her gaze and he wasn't very eager to be pardoned. Already he felt like a precious treasure had been bestowed upon him, one that he was duty bound to protect.
His arm came out and she slipped her creamy one in with his. The Red Sea of people seemed to part just for them as they took the dance floor. They danced, or they could have possibly been standing still, for hours, talking and sharing parts of their lives that no one knew.
He learned that she worked for the Ministry developing counter-curses, but right now she was working on a collaborative project of curing the lingering effects of the Cruciatus Curse, one he was well versed in – personally, but he held that back. When she told him that she was educated at Hogwarts he was tempted to ask of her potions education, but refrained, not wanting to spoil the pleasant mood.
More surprising to himself he relinquished tales of his youth that he had long suppressed, with the exclusion of one. The one that he knew would turn her away with revulsion, but in his mind he could keep her and in the morning during their sleepy afterglow he would tell her and she would listen without judgment. She would tell him that it didn't matter and he would believe her, because even in the darkness that lurked in his mind he could hold onto one beautiful thought. The thought that she would want to keep him after his past was revealed. It would never happen. Tomorrow she would be a cherished memory, but tonight she would be his, even if in his mind only. He promised himself wouldn't seek her out in the ministry no matter how easy the task would be. As long as he kept her a mystery he would belong to her.
Their moments together wrapped in each other's arms were at times too intense. They forget others surrounded them or they simply didn't care. She was his Crone Goddess and he her Sun God – for at least the night.
Love at first sight, surely it was a myth. Maybe it wasn't at first sight, but as a ministry ghost shrieked through crowd closely followed rattling chains of a long past lover, her laughter filled his ears, entrancing him for eternity. Her warm body trembled tightly against his own as she let laughter and cool wassail glide down her throat. That's when he knew he was lost to her. If she could make him forget who and where he was for even a moment his unused heart was gone forever.
Slowly he realized that the couples were trickling from the party and even sooner he realized that his brief moment in the sun would come to an end. It was well past midnight and the time of commemorating those lost to the Cause was complete, replaced by the rebirth of the future generations to come. In desperation he pulled her off the dance floor, back to where he first spied her.
"You'll think me a fool and that this is being rash, but I've never been more certain of something in my life…Will you marry me? Right here, right now."
If she was shocked she hid it well. "But you don't even know who I am. I could be anyone."
Pleased that she didn't say outright, 'no', he pressed on.
"I know you as well as I know myself. I can feel it. Tell me you can feel it too."
She smiled, leaning into his arms, gracing him with a kiss, murmuring in his ear. "I suppose we should find the Minister."
Tracking down Arthur Weasley proved to be a bit difficult, but not impossible. He stood before them grinning wildly, pleased that his event had joined the two together. Too much libation and celebration glossed over the fact that they never gave their names. One could not be sure if he would have been so happy if he had known their identity before the fasting. He didn't ask and neither of them revealed.
He swept his bride away from the continuing celebration and they apparated to his ancestral home. No one lived there now, except for his occasional visits. However he was greatly considering ever leaving it again. He carried her across the threshold of the master suite and they were both as giddy as every newlywed. Gently he placed her on the bed and in the darkness they divested each other of their clothes. They moved in heated shadows, hungrily, passionately breathing kisses. Carefully her removed the dagger-like necklace, but when his hand clasped it, he felt the magic surrounding it. It was an amulet and heavily protected.
One hand pinned her arms to the pillows above her head, while his other paid careful attention to the heaving breasts that teased him with every movement. She arched into his touch and he was more than happy to comply with her more impatient needs. Her body writhed wildly when his mouth replaced his hands and he conquered her aching nipples. Her body was an ocean of hot, inviting liquid. Interestingly enough he was reminded of a muggle candy the headmaster had turned him on to. She tasted as sweet as candy corn as he suckled and nibbled on every inch of taut flesh.
A spasm of pleasure ripped through her and she moaned loudly as he tongue lashed across one peak. They couldn't get enough of each other as their hungry hands sought out the other.
"Trick or Treat, my dear?" he whispered lustfully.
She cried out as his mouth came in contact just below her breasts, panting for each agonizing breath. "Both," she whispered back.
He reached for his wand on the bedside table and muttered a spell under his breath. Before she could comprehend the words through all the haziness of her mind her arms were loosely bound with silk cords to the headboard. She let out a low purr that was almost his undoing. How he managed to maintain control thus far was unknown.
His hands splayed across her torso, appraising it like fine china, worshipping it like a mystical totem. One hand moved down and across her belly, edging closer to her swollen apex. She bucked and gasped in anticipation as his long fingers barely grazed the slickness that awaited. She thrashed against the cords, willing to please herself if he didn't. As one finger slipped between the sweltering folds she sighed in relief. Swift, methodic circles were bringing her to a distressing end and he could hear her pleading breathlessly to take her.
She whimpered when he removed his hand, stopping just short of giving her what she wanted. He knew he'd pay for that later, but he had to taste her. Damn the consequences. He spread her thighs like she were a sacrifice on an altar, reverently stroking the trembling silkiness. His mouth descended upon her inner thigh and she moaned loudly as his tongue trailed a path to where his fingers were previously.
Her hips rocked wildly against his teasing mouth. His tongue encircled her swollen clit and her body convulsed, as he tasted every sweet inch of humming flesh.
"Stop. Stop. I can't take anymore," she panted as another flood of orgasm gripped her. Her unguarded want shot straight to his aching cock, painfully reminding him that he too needed release. He moved up her body, straddling her hips, covering her body with his, and pressing his throbbing against the core of her heat. She writhed and begged for him to enter, but he couldn't but languish over the display before him. In the light of day she would curse him, but now she was pleading with him for surrender.
He took a hold of her restless hips, pinning them to the mattress and entered her in one swift movement. She was so tight he thought he would explode on contact. He frowned as her body went rigid. He cursed himself silently. He should have went slower, but he had no idea he was her first.
"Untie me," she trembled and gut-wrenching pain swept through him as he tried to process all the current implications. He ceased the cords and they evaporated into thin air. He started to pull away from her, but her arms around his neck stilled him. Her legs wrapped around his thighs, urging him to continue as she clung to him like a life preserver.
He moved in slower this time, taking a slow pace until he felt her moving with him. "Am I hurting you?" he asked.
"No." And she thrust her hips against him to prove her point. "Just a bit of a shock the first time," she clarified. Her hands kneaded the hard sinew of his shoulders, relieving some of his built-up tension. He gripped her lissome body holding her tightly against him as he stretched her, filled her, and felt the pleasure rip through her. He kissed her eyes shut and watched as she let the sensation of each thrust and retreat take over.
She rose from the sheets briefly, forcing him deeper inside her. Their sweating bodies melting into one puddle of desire. She cried out with one final thrust and he spilled himself in her. They both collapsed against the sheets, spent. He removed the burden of his weight from atop of her and rolled on his side, pulling her against his still panting chest, spooning her with his body. His arm came around her, holding her like a precious treasure. At one moment he thought possibly too tight, but he was afraid he would wake up and this would be a cruel dream.
She kissed the arm that rapped around her shoulder and murmured softly something he couldn't quite make out. He lost himself in the endless waves of soft hair, nuzzling against her neck. He fell asleep that night a sated man. In the morning he would deal with the consequences.
~***~
When he awoke the next morning he started with a panic, which quickly receded when he saw that during the night she had just moved away from him. The impending sun sliced through the window, basking her back in a warm glow. The crumpled sheets went half way up her back leaving the rest open for investigation. He traced invisible lines between her shoulder blades, reeling from the feel of sleep-warmed skin against his fingers. She stirred, her shoulder lifting a bit, but she let him continue to caress. He was fairly sure he could spend the rest of his life in bed touching and holding his wife. Wife. The day before he didn't have one and now was wondering how he had ever gone so long without her.
Slowly she started to shift and turn, her perfectly sculpted breasts saying hello from the top of the sheet. He ached to devour them, but froze once her smiling face was revealed.
~***~
He inhaled sharply. "Oh, God. What have I done?" he gasped out.
"It would appear me," she said coolly. As he tried to regain his senses he desperately wished she would make some sort of attempt to cover chest. Now he was fully aware of a house elves impulse to bash their heads at bad thoughts.
"I'll fix things," he assured her. "I'll go to the Ministry. Tell them I coerced you…"
"Are you mad?" she screamed. "You know what they'll do to you if you do that. They'll say you used the Imperius Curse or poisoned me. They'll send you to Azkaban."
Her concerned however misplaced place filled him with warm hope. "It's long overdue as it is. We can't stay married and annulment is no longer an option. Divorce is the only option and you know on which terms they are granted."
"I had no idea how horrid an experience I had given you last night. My apologies," she hissed stiffly.
"God no. You can't possibly think that. It was incredible, but Miss Granger…"
She cut him off sharply. "It's Mrs. Snape, I believe and if it was so incredible why do you want to end this."
"Hermione," he said softly, "You don't know what your saying. You have no idea what kind of man I am. You deserve someone better than I can ever be and if I have to face my demons to release you from our bond then so be it."
She gave him an amused look, curling her lips in a wide smile. "I'll tell them you're lying," she said plainly.
For gods sake what's wrong with her? Trying to give her an easy out and she's behaving like an insolent brat.
"You will do no such thing."
"And furthermore, to prove my point, I'd shag you senseless on the steps of the Ministry. Also, I am your wife not your child and you will not treat me as such."
All he could do was stare at her, completely befuddled. She was merciful in one respect by covering her pert chest with a swatch of the sheet.
"You're acting like a child." The glint her eyes were enough to tell him he had chosen the wrong words. He was thankful she had not possessed this same confident sexual air as a student in his classroom. That would have been unbearable.
"You didn't fuck me like a child." She threw the sheet off of her in a grand gesture, revealing the body of his goddess. "Look at me and tell me I'm a child."
He was certain that this is what a heart attack feels like. His blood wouldn't flow properly in his veins, his vision clouded and his hearing came in low drones. One second the blood rushed to his head and the next it took a direct route to his crotch. She was going to kill him without so much of a touch of her hand or possibly if she didn't touch him he would have an aneurysm.
"What do you want from me? Is this your diabolical plan of revenge for the prick I was at Hogwarts?"
"No, but I'm glad to hear that you know you act like an utter prat. I used to think you were unawares to your own supercilious traits." She smiled sweetly, making no attempt to recover herself. You'd think she grew up in a nudist colony with how comfortable she was displaying herself.
"What's wrong with you?" he asked in exasperation, desperately trying to regain control of the situation, but failing miserably.
She looked at him haughtily. "Is it so absurd that a wife would want to remain married to her husband?"
"If the man is me, yes!"
She shrugged and looked at him rather unconcerned, inspecting the cuticles of her nails.
"Why?" he beseeched. No one in a very long time had made him feel as uncomfortable as she made him feel. The evil part of his brain sang in his ears that he liked it.
"Why not?" Her measured cheek was something that she perfected and was now able to unleash it on him. And he so deserved this. He had probably never been talked back to in his adult life.
"You infuriating woman. I don't care if you are my wife. I'm going to take you over my knee and belt you."
She did that smile again. No, no, no, no, no.
"Is that a promise, Severus?"
His frustrated growl vibrated the walls of the bedroom and he finally sighed in defeat.
"Just tell me why?"
"Hasn't anyone ever told you that not everything requires an answer?"
"Coming from you, Hermione, that's quite laughable."
She gave him a wry smile. "You think so?" she laughed. "I suppose you're right." She laughed again and her eyes glazed over briefly as if she were recalling something. "You must have wanted to throttle me back then. Me with my hand waving about all the time like a rogue bludger." She smiled and laughed again, shaking her head a little at the memory. It was her laugh that he fell in love with first.
Completely defeated he slumped back against the bed, waiting for his newest nightmare to end. She gave him an irritated look and snapped at him.
"Need I remind you that you were the one that asked me to marry you last night?"
"No."
Hermione rolled on to her hip, facing her husband. Her leg twined in between his, hand tracing circles on his chest. She felt him tense and so she stopped. Her body rested against his and she laid her head on his shoulder, one arm draped across his stomach. She spoke so softly he almost didn't hear her.
"I fell in love with the man I married last night. You're that man, Severus." She squeezed his hand and chastely kissed him on the lips. "Never forget that." She released him and rose from the bed like a sprightly sea nymph.
"Where are you going?" he rasped.
She turned with a sad, pained expression. She spoke just as softly as before. "I won't let you hurt yourself because of me. I won't stay if you want me to leave."
He only had a split second to decide, but he didn't need even that. He grabbed her fleeing hand. She looked at their hands, then to him.
"Stay. I don't know why you want to, but please stay."
"Hermione nodded and allowed him to pull her back into the sheets and his arms where they held each other in silence.
~***~
By day Hermione worked at the Ministry and every evening she would apparate into Hogsmeade where Severus would meet her. Sometimes they would walk the streets, stopping in the bookstore or the apothecary. Occasionally they would have dinner at The Three Broomsticks. This period of sweet courtship after the wedding brought them closer. Their growing unbreakable friendship made their love stronger and their loving even more spectacular.
The day after the wedding had been a hectic one. Severus flooed Albus with the intentions of seeking approval of moving Hermione into his dungeon chambers.
"Severus, my boy, Good Saturday to you."
The flame smiling face of the headmaster unnerved Severus slightly, but for reasons he couldn't identify.
"Hello, Albus. There's a matter I need to discuss with you."
"Yes, I was quite concerned when you didn't return from the festivities last night. Glad you're alright. You'll be back for lessons by Monday?"
"That's what I have to talk to you about, Albus." Concern passed through his expression. "Is everything well in Slytherin? It was unforgivable of me to leave on such short notice or regard to you. I apologize, Albus. I'll return immediately."
Dumbledore laughed heartily. The flames danced with each rumble. "Calm down, Severus. Everything is fine. Professor Sinistra has taken over your house duties until Monday. You said you had something to discuss with me. Nothing bad, I hope," Dumbledore said with a sparkle in his eye.
"No, nothing bad at all. Good actually." Severus smiled, barely able to stop a grin from spreading across his face. Albus' heart warmed. It had been so long since he had seen Severus smile, truly smile.
"Wonderful. Why don't we meet in Hogsmeade for lunch? Say twelve?"
"That would be fine, Albus."
"I'll see you then. Oh and Severus…don't forget to bring the Mrs."
Severus gaped momentarily and before he could say anything, not that he had anything remotely concrete to say, Albus ended the floo connection.
~***~
Hermione was lounging in a club chair in the library of Snape Manor. Her head raised from the text she was reading and rested upon Severus.
"What's wrong, Severus?
"I just spoke with Albus…he knew before I had a chance to say anything."
Severus sidestepped the end table to perch near Hermione. She grinned wildly at him.
"He usually does." His head turned towards her and he nodded in agreement faintly. She reached her hand up and pulled his head down for a languorous kiss. Little acts like that were going to take time get used to.
"We should see about getting your things," he murmured against her forehead.
Her flat was one provided by the Ministry. It was fully furnished when she moved in, so all that had to be packed were he personal belongings and by ten everything was shrunk and placed in Hermione's shoulder bag.
Hermione wanted to make a stop in Diagon Alley before their lunch in Hogsmeade and Severus found himself dreading the idea. What he had with Hermione was incredibly too new and precious to have spoiled by nosy onlookers or hurtful remarks. He voiced his concern, but Hermione was steadfast.
"I'll not hide who we are. I'm not ashamed of you or our love and I don't care what anyone else has to say on the matter."
He nodded and with a pop they were in the streets of Diagon Alley. Hermione took a hold of Severus' hand and they strolled the streets and window-shopped. He was right though. People stared, gawked, gaped. But the worst part was the mutterings and whispers caught in the wind and drifted to their ears.
"Look there. Severus Snape and with a woman."
"…nasty sort of a man, wouldn't you agree?"
"Who's the lass with him?"
"I don't know. Maybe she's blind and can't see how unpleasant he looks."
"Oh, I know who that is. That's Hermione Granger."
"…holding hands. Why on earth would she even be touching him?"
"…a death eater? He probably poisoned her with a love potion."
"Nobody could ever love a man like that."
Hermione stopped dead in her tracks and forced herself to count to ten before she starting hexing anyone in her path. How dare they? She looked at Severus. He was paler than normal and very withdrawn. Just walking was a strain for him.
The look in her eyes startled him. It was pure undiluted adoration and it washed away all the negative words that had infiltrated his mind. She loved him no matter what anyone else said.
His black eyes flickered even blacker in recognition and her heart crashed against her chest as he lifted her hand to his lips. If anyone else commented on their status neither Hermione or Severus were aware. They enclosed themselves in their own little world and everything else was just scenery.
While Hermione was perusing the newest releases at Flourish and Blotts Severus kissed her temple and told her he would be right back. When he returned he set a small box on the page she was reading and her eyes widened.
"Open it," he prompted and like a kid on Christmas Day she snatched it up and tore into it. She was incredibly quiet and it scared Severus.
"I can take it back and get you something you'd like better. I'm sorry…I should have…"
"Not like it?" How could anyone not like it? It was simple, dignified, classic, and above all given from the heart. This is the one she would have picked for herself. It was absolutely beautiful. Her brown eyes were almost black with emotion and her eyes glistened with happiness. "Will you put it on me, Severus?"
He nodded. His facial features expressionless, but his eyes were torrent with emotion. The sleek, platinum band slid over her finger and settled at the hilt. His hand lingered, thumb rotating the ring, and he stared at her hand mesmerized. His lips kissed the precious metal and Hermione shivered with desire.
The crowds in Hogsmeade were much friendlier than those of Diagon Alley. Albus was exceedingly happy, telling Severus not to give a second thought to moving Hermione into the castle. She was more than welcome, he had proclaimed. Madame Rosmerta declared drinks were on the house when she heard the happy news. Severus was glad to be home again and now it felt much more like one.
~***~
"Please, Severus. Can we get him?" Her eyes implored him and tugged at his heart. There was no chance in the world that he would deny her anything. He scowled anyways and looked away in distaste from the black plump of fur, strutting and purring.
"If you let me have him, I'll call him Sev and refrain from calling you that." She smiled sweetly and pecked him on the cheek. In all honesty, though he protested, he really didn't mind her calling him Sev, but no one else dare address him as such. The cat crossed Severus' path once more and Hermione purred into his ear. "I'll make it worthwhile, Severus." One fine eyebrow rose at her suggestiveness. Her eyes glittered mischievously. She had him wrapped around her finger and he didn't mind it in the least.
"If you must."
"Thank you, Severus. Let's take little Sev home and I'll give you a proper thanks."
Her thanks turned out to be the most glorious time he had ever spent in a bathtub. The water steamed and the air permeated with sandalwood and musk. She led him in and methodically removed his and her clothes. She slipped into the tepid waves and reached for him to join. Sitting between her slim thighs her relaxed his weight against her.
"Close your eyes," she told him as she smothered his silky strands with honey thick shampoo. Her fingers massaged and caressed his scalp and he almost found himself drifting off to sleep. She rinsed the soap out with several drainings from a large sponge. The filmy remnants slid down his chest and she chased after them with the sponge, laving it across his body with tender care.
The only sound in the room was the swishing of water, but there silence spoke volumes. Something had been niggling at the back of his brain for a long time and he had to ask her about it.
"Why me, Hermione?" His solemn tone told her he needed an honest answer, depended on it.
"You let me see who you really were that night. You hid behind a mask instead of sarcasm. You were charming and engaging. I could have spent hours just talking to you. And when you asked me if I could feel what there was between us, I did. We were made for each other, Severus. You were my Sun God that night, my amazingly wonderful Lugh." And she was his Crone Goddess – a pairing prophesized. "You're a good man, Severus. Yes, you made mistakes, as have I. You have more than paid your debt to the world. Most importantly, I love you. Plain and simple."
He was intensely still for a long time. She kept her hands on him at all times, showing him the affection he had denied himself.
"Thank you," he croaked with a thick, strained voice.
~***~
At the end of the day after his final class he would take the brisk walk to Hogsmeade, to Hermione's apparation point. They'd been married for four weeks. He'd released his class early that day and arrived in Hogsmeade with plenty of time. He wanted to do something special for Hermione.
He heard the pop and saw her shimmer into solidity. She smiled as he strode towards her purposefully. Before he got to her he saw her eyes glaze over, she gasped and called his name. She collapsed to the ground before he could reach her.
Severus sunk into the ground beside her, cradling her body to his. He had to do something. Get Poppy. Take her to St. Mungo's. Something. Anything.
"Hermione," he urged. "Hermione, wake up. Please." He shook her shoulders, comforted only by the shallow rise and fall of her chest. Those agonizing minutes dragged on like hours.
When her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him confusedly he felt released the air from his lungs he didn't know he had been holding.
"Just hold on to me. Tight now." She didn't move to hold him, her entire body lax. "Please, Hermione."
"Why?" A small voice asked that didn't sound very much like Hermione's.
"We have to apparate to St. Mungo's and I don't want us to get splinched."
She shook her head and he felt the air catch in his throat. She has to be okay. She has to be.
"Please, Hermione," he pleaded.
"No, Severus. They have nothing there of use."
His mind started to reel. What was she saying?
"Then I'll take you into London – to a muggle hospital. Let me do something, please."
He had come so close to happiness to have it snatched away now. It wasn't fair.
"Take me home, Severus."
"Yes, Poppy will have something to help you." She shook her head again.
"Just home, Severus. Nowhere else. Home."
He lifted her with ease into his arms and was immediately alarmed with how pale she was. Blue veins shown through the skin like it were rice paper. That short trek back to Hogwarts was the worst moment in his life.
He settled her into their bed, pulled the covers up around her, never leaving her side. When they didn't show up for dinner Albus wasn't very concerned, but when breakfast came and there was still no sign of them apprehension settled in.
During the first period of class's a sixth year Slytherin prefect informed him that Professor Snape hadn't shown up for the lesson. Albus dismissed the class and headed to the Potions Master's chambers.
I know what you're thinking, Severus, Dumbldore sighed to himself, but you don't deserve this. Albus told him not to worry about his House duties or classes, everything would be taken care of. Severus nodded, his throat too constricted to speak. He was overwhelmed when later he heard that Minerva insisted on taking over two of his classes.
Later the day when Hermione stirred awake she saw Severus slumped over her in a chair beside the bed. His hair hung carelessly over his face and the faintest blue shadow of a beard. Her fingers danced through his hair, pushing it back from his eyes. You could get lost in the black pools of electric ink. She touched his cheek and he batted her hand away in his sleep. Her soft laugh was what woke him from his sleep.
She was still pale, but her eyes had their life back in them. He smoothed her hair down, touching her with such care, like she were a porcelain doll he was afraid to shatter. Somewhere deep inside he knew their time was short, but he refused to acknowledge it. This wasn't supposed to happen this way. This was a sick twisting to the legend, he thought bitterly.
"How long have you know?" he asked, dispensing with pretense.
She took his hand and held it to her heart. "I think it is something I have always known," she told him sadly.
"How much time do we have?"
"Not long."
He wrenched his hand free and stormed across the room, slammed his hand against the stone interior. His shoulders shook and Hermione's heart ached to reach out to him.
His anger came first and she took it in, understood it. When the anger subsided he withdrew into himself, silently brooding for hours, unable to look at her and she held his hand through it.
But what nearly broke her heart was the pleading.
"I'll do anything you like. I'll change. I promise. Please just don't leave me, Hermione." His eyes implored her and the ache in her heart tried to will her into submission – to submit to something that wasn't possible. "Please," he begged desperately.
She couldn't hold back the tears and they fell freely, uninhibited. "Oh, Severus. None of this is your fault. It's – It's just the way it is."
He looked very tired and with what strength she had left she pulled him into the bed alongside her and asked him to hold her.
"I want you to know that I love you with all my heart, Severus. The time we've spent together has made me the happiest woman on earth – because of you. You make me feel loved, cherished."
He tightened his grip on her, afraid she would slip away from him. "I love you too," he choked out.
"My sweet, Lugh." She brushed his face with her fingers and the night they met and married rushed back to him. Lugh, the Sun God. The legend wasn't going to script, it was all wrong. He was the one that was supposed to leave, unable to even think the word die. The Crone Goddess, his Hermione, was supposed to mourn his passing, not the other way around. Six weeks. According to legend that's how long they were supposed to have. Now they had less than a few days left and he couldn't bear to think of it.
Another day passed and he spent it clutching her increasingly fragile body to his chest, willing his heart to stop so that he did not have to go on with out her, if it were even possible. Every second it felt as if a sharp knife was coring away at his chest, leaving him raw and exposed. This feeling of helplessness and dread was worse than anything Voldemort had inflicted upon him.
"Severus, I don't have much time left," she told him through thick tears. "I need you to promise me something."
He had to force the bulging lump from his throat, the tightness cramped his vocal cords and almost impossible to breath let alone speak.
"Anything, love"
"Promise me that you live on when I'm gone, that you won't shut yourself off from everyone. And promise me that you'll love again."
"No," he said sharply. "I won't betray you or our love."
She gripped his hand as tightly as she could. "You'll be betraying it if you don't. You can't lock away your heart, Severus, it has to breath, pump blood, feel. Your soul needs that too."
"I can't do that, Hermione. Please don't make me promise that."
"But I have to. Knowing that you'll have someone to look after you, love you, hold you when I can't will make what will come all the more easier. Please Severus, at least don't completely shut yourself out. At least try."
"I'll try for you, but no one will ever take your place. No one will ever be as precious to me as you are. You'll always be my goddess." He was quiet for a minute and then he spoke in a far off manner. "Sometimes I think you were sent to me, to show me how different life could truly be, to show me how different I could be. You made me a better man, Hermione."
"No, Severus. You were always a better man. I just loved you."
She brushed away the tears that slipped down his cheek.
"I never got to take you on a honeymoon," he murmured almost as an afterthought. "I was going to take you away during the Christmas hols."
"Where were we going to go? Tell me about it."
She closed her eyes and listened enchanted as he spoke of the wonderful places and things they were to see. They were going to go to Greece. His family had a small cottage near the Mediterranean. He was going to show her were his grandfather was born, take her to the national library there – with enough books to keep her sated for months, he was going to take her on to one of the sandy beaches under pale moonlight and make love to her until the sun rose. He finished talking and when she didn't say anything he shook her lightly and whispered in her ear.
"Hermione?" But he knew the words were too late. She was gone. The entire castle heard the gut-wrenching cry and from that point on no one would ever be able to think of him in the same light. He had lost more than any human should have to. And he was only human. He begged the gods to give her beg, to take him instead.
Everything after that was a blur. He knew that Albus and Minerva had come done and tried to ease him away from Hermione, but they were fighting a losing battle. Finally he let them take her and when they did he smashed every bottle in his stores until everything was one think pool of blackness, just as he felt. He knew there was a funeral and that he had stood there silently as she was laid to rest at Snape Manor. He also knew that Harry Potter, Sirius Black and all the Weasley family were there and they all came up to him and expressed their condolences.
One part of his mind laughed cruelly when Black had walked up to him. It screamed at him that Black had finally got what he wanted all those years – to see him destroyed, but the other part of his mind, the one that he knew Hermione was speaking through urged him to see the sincerity in Black's words. It was there and he smiled wryly. Hermione was always right.
~***~
"Are you sure this is what you want, Severus?"
"Yes, Albus. It's what I need. As much as for me as it is for Hermione. I made her a promise and I have to stand by it, but I can't do that while sheltered away here."
"Okay Severus. Just remember that you are always welcome here and that there will always be a position for you."
"Thank you, Albus."
"The students will miss you."
"I don't think so."
"They will, Severus."
Severus nodded in reluctant agreement and rose from the chair. He left the headmaster's office. He had asked Minerva to take charge of little Sev and patted his small head fondly before leaving. He walked out the entrance of Hogwarts and took one last walk to Hogsmeade, turned back to the castle for one last goodbye and apparated to London.
~***~
London. Muggle London. Hermione's London. He sought out every place she had mentioned to him, every place that could help him understand her a little more, and he did it to let her go.
He had just gotten off the Tube, amazing invention really, and was walking down one of the long stretches of pavements. Something made him turn and he saw her. Had to be the ghost of her. Same poise, figure, luxurious hair. Same air of confidence. She turned and their eyes met. It was her. One of Hermione's last words echoed in his mind. 'Don't worry, Severus. We'll meet again. I promise you that.'
His hand reached out to touch, to see if she was real. The faintest whisper of words left his lips.
"Hermione," he gasped.
She smiled at him and he thought his heart was going to explode with joy, happiness, and love.
"No," she said, "but I guess you're close. Hecate. My friends call me Cate though."
His mind raced, trying to process the disappointment and then the rest of what she said. Her name – Hecate. The true name of the Crone Goddess. We'll meet again. I promise, she had said.
"And you are?" Cate asked.
"Severus. Severus Snape."
"Well, Severus Snape, you seem oddly familiar. Like I know you from somewhere, but can't quite place you."
"I know exactly what you mean."
Because we've met before.