Hermione ran outside the castle, and straight into Remus Lupin. He held her while she sobbed. "This is so much more difficult than I imagined. I thought I had a straightforward view of things, but I'm getting more information than I can process."
He smoothed her hair, and said, "Any process like this will cause this type of pain as you go through it. But I know that once you've gone through the worst, things will be much better. I truly believe that."
"I can tell now that he believes he failed me, Dumbledore, Ron, everyone, by not blowing his cover and saving me. Maybe he's right. Maybe he made the wrong choices. But that's not all this is about. He sacrificed both of us to the cause, and in the end, we both lived with the consequences of his actions. Ron died, and…"
"You still have more answers to get."
"I should go back, but I don't know how I can face him." She stood, kissed Remus on the cheek, and said, "I have to go back and finish this. I can't run away now."
He put his hand on his cheek as she walked away, and lowered his head in despair for her and for the wake of destruction Voldemort and his followers had left in all of their lives.
*~*
Hermione discovered a disquieting limitation on her powers when she and Severus tried to resume. Concentrating on Dumbledore, she asked, Albus…am I disturbing you?
How is it going, child?
It seems that as things progress, I need more contact to make the connection. Is this because I'm tired, or is the ability finite?
I don't know, Hermione. It could simply be the intensity of what you are remembering. Perhaps you need more physical contact because you are afraid.
It's hard enough to touch him, Albus. My mind couldn't be that masochistic. Thanks for the input.
She looked at Severus, seeing him in a new light. "We have two choices. I can't re-establish my link to you; I've been trying to speak to you and have been unable to get your attention. Either I sit closer to you, more of our bodies touching - in your lap, perhaps - and we see if the increased contact helps. Or we need to break and see if I simply need some time to regenerate before we begin again. I assume the former doesn't sound too appealing, so perhaps we should finish…" She was trying to sound clinical and detached, but failing miserably. Part of her simply wanted to be close to him just to be close, and she couldn't let that part out right now.
He cut her off. "For Circe's sake, Hermione, we're adults. And I honestly do not want to stretch this out any further than we have to. Come over here, and sit, and let's see." Smooth, Snape. Real smooth.
She tried to stop her jaw from hanging open, and did as she was told. At once she called to him. Severus?
It worked.
Indeed. Well, I hate to think about the amount of contact that will be required when we get to the bad parts.
Should I ask?
Dumbledore told me that he felt that the limitations might be due to the sensitivity of the material we are covering, and that we might need more physical contact to work this magic.
Clever, that one. Don't think I don't know what he's up to.
Indeed. You have to admit the walls are coming down faster than I would have anticipated. The old lunatic is always right, isn't he?
There has been that side effect, though I can't say I'm happy you know one or two of my darker secrets. And it's killing me to admit how I manipulated the situation with Malfoy; the things I said about you are untrue and unfair. It's killing me to admit how not in control of the situation I was. Normally I can think more clearly; I can see now that it was my panic over your well-being that created the fog. My indecision cost you so dearly.
Don't think about that. All's fair in love and war, right? It was war. You were saving me from dying at his hands, right?
I botched the job. I let your innocence die. And I did it to you.
I'm here, aren't I? Let's continue. I believe it was my turn. You and Malfoy came down the stairs again. You both had this horrible grin on your faces, and for a good few moments I believed that you had gone over to the Dark again in a cruel twist of fate. I had known of your spying for Dumbledore, of course, but at that moment the insecurities that I and my friends had experienced in the early years, when we believed you were out to kill Harry, came shining through. You were the consummate actor; Malfoy was so full of himself that he didn't see the look you shot me when he wasn't looking. I knew then you were on my side, but I also was quite aware that you could never let him know that; while your presence gave me hope, it also would damn you in Malfoy's, and by extension Voldemort's, eyes to help me, so I really shouldn't be in a better place than before. Nevertheless, at that moment, I felt safe. No matter what Malfoy had up his sleeve, I wasn't alone.
I was, of course, oblivious to the fact that you would have to join in the torment. I'm not sure which was worse at that point, not knowing, or the aftermath.
Hermione…Snape broke in, choking a sob and tightening his arms around her. I would have done anything to prevent what happened between us.
Severus, you were as used as I in his sick games. I just regret that Ron's last vision was of us together. Lucius was as good as his word…he let you "seduce me", and you were too good at that. Too good by half…by the time you were done, I was enjoying it…enjoying the feeling of your hands on me, even when you did something rather painful for Malfoy's benefit. It was truly sick to play the game for his amusement; he was obviously aroused enough at seeing his former lover making love to a woman in that painful Death Eater way with only hands and mouth, to stand there with a self-satisfied smile on his cruel face. But you know, here I was, an unwilling participant in a sex game with two Death Eaters, and all I could think was…if it had been you that finished the job, it would not have been against my will. How could I know that I was playing into his game? I was betrayed by my growing feelings for you.
Sharp intake of breath. How can you say that, Hermione? I helped that monster force himself on you, for Merlin's sake! I'm sick thinking about it, even now. But I guess it's time for confessions. I couldn't help it. I was aroused by what was happening. And that made me so ashamed. My attraction to you that had been unacknowledged because of your student status…I had put myself in this position, though, and Lucius wasn't giving me an opening to find a way to get you out. I was trapped between revulsion and sick desire and shame at my inability to just slap the portkey on you, let you go home, and then suffer the consequences for being a traitor. I wanted there to be an outcome where I could keep my job as a spy and still keep you safe, but that window was fading.
Stop beating yourself up. Hermione took over again, because she could feel him falling down that ugly path of self-hate again, and she was determined to see this through. We were pawns in a game and believe it or not, I was mature enough to know that your choices were limited, even without knowing of the portkey. Well, as you know, after the exquisite torture you visited upon me, Lucius relieved you to my great shame and surprise, and took what was left of my innocence. It was the coldest, darkest experience I had ever had. I knew, with each thrust of him, that I was slipping away from reality and retreating into myself. You had to stand there and watch the whole spectacle, and I was ashamed beyond belief; my worst shame was that I had been so aroused by you, that what Lucius did affected me in ways I didn't want it to. I thought when he finished the worst was over, and a kind of calm detachment settled over me. No matter how long I was here, if that was his worst, I could take it and stay sane (if only just.) And that monster took me again, and again…the whole day spent suffering his disgusting attentions and liberal doses of pain by his hands and by magical means. I honestly don't know which was worse, not to mention that you were forced to watch this, and maintain your composure so your cover would not be blown. Then he suddenly remembered you. He forced you on me; when you tried to say you had done enough and had other business to discuss with him, and then when he was satisfied you were taking out your vicious hatred of all that was Gryffindor on me, he finally left the room to go find Draco for his turn. He was met at the top of the stairs by Ron Weasley, who Petrified him and came running down to save me.
The scene that Ron encountered, of course, was that of you trying hurriedly to cover me up and mumble your regrets in my ear and prepare the Portkey, but he didn't know that. All he saw was Snape, the rapist. He advanced on you fully prepared to throw the worst Unforgivable your way. But he hadn't brought Harry with him; he was alone. Before you could attempt to explain, before I could say a word, a green bolt of light shot out from behind him. He had been killed by an unseen voyeur in the shadows of the dungeon, Avery, apparently getting his kicks from the scene that had been unfolding. You drew your wand, and attempted to curse Avery, but he dodged your curse. Draco came flying down the stairs; his moment of hesitation when he saw Ron's lifeless body proved his undoing, but yours as well. You Petrified him, but Avery got the upper hand and put you under the Cruciatus. However, before the battle began, you had managed to unbind me. Avery wasn't paying attention in his glee at torturing you, and though I didn't have my wand, I had my wits about me. I snuck up behind the bastard and kicked him in the groin. The curse was broken on you, and we rushed to Ron's side…but he was gone. His last thoughts were of you taking what he thought was his. It's an ugly thought that has haunted me to this day. I don't know you would have gotten me out alive, but his sacrifice did enable us to leave; but we'll never know if his death was unnecessary. It's haunting, because he is dead because of my actions.
Snape steeled himself to take over, and shifted in the chair. Naturally I grabbed your hand and Ron's, and activated the Portkey. Too late, far too late.
By the time we arrived at Hogwarts, you were comatose. You had decided to stop living; as you said, one too many things had happened. Albus forced me away from you, spent some time with you in Hagrid's hut, and you came to a changed person. You lived, and I constantly repented. We worked together that year on a potion, but you were not the same towards me; you didn't speak up in class, and you were of a single mind to wreak revenge on the world. You turned to Harry in your grief, and away from me, the man who had helped give you to Malfoy in the cruelest of ways, and contributed so much to the death of Ron Weasley. I was in constant anguish, mostly because I knew how deeply I cared about you. I spent all my time trying not to.
Hermione pulled away, and looked at Snape. His eyes were hard, but she could see a tear welling. A tear? Snape? She would have to nip this in the bud before he became completely out of character. "Oh, stop blubbering. It-was-not-your-fault. You were trying to save me, and after all, you succeeded. Here we are."
"It was Malfoy's, and Avery's, and Ron's for being a jealous prat who wouldn't do what he was told, but I still take blame. You have never been happy since, and I had a part in that."
"It's simply time to put that to rest. We have had our burdens to bear, and I like to think we now bear them together rather than separately."
He considered that for a moment, and then did something she hadn't expected. He leaned over and kissed her.
Then, what started as a kiss of relief and absolution became more. Neither of them saw it coming, but the passion was real and intense. She pulled away quickly and stood up. "Severus. We are clearly under the influence of this monster we have slain. I had better go."
He knew she was right, but the intimacy of their contact had torn down the last wall. "I tell you," she continued, "after just the recollection of the first night, I nearly went after Lupin for the same comforts. I believe you and I have atoned several times over for our roles in Ron's death and my rape at the hands of Malfoy. The walls are down. Can we keep them there?"
"Tomorrow, the spell will be ready that frees me from the Dark. Perhaps…"
"Let's talk tomorrow." Suddenly exhausted and unwilling to continue the conversation, she fled the room.
Once she approached the hall where Sir Cadogan was waiting, she looked up to see Remus by her door. "I will be rather scarce the next few days, but I wanted to know if you were all right."
"You know, I think for the first time in six years, I can truthfully answer yes. Just tired. Thank you for being here."
