Her journey back to Gryffindor tower was uneventful. Nobody stopped her,
nobody gave her a suspicious glance, and when she shut the door behind her,
she felt not uncommonly like someone who had just escaped a lion's den. She
breathed out relieved, standing with her back up against the round portal
door.
"There you are Hermione!", called Ron and Harry, situated on the other side of the common room, and cutting out a newspaper photo of some Quidditch beater. "I told you she wasn't asleep" Ron told Harry; flickering a piece of paper into the bin. "What happened to your shoes?" Harry asked, glancing down at Hermione black socks.
'Oh sorry, I borrowed these from Professor Snape since I woke up this morning naked, with nary piece of clothing to be seen' she thought to herself, imagining their faces. Sobering, she said "It's a long story Harry, I'll tell you later, maybe. She had enough secrets of her own, and as they no longer questioned everything she did, she passed them with a pleasant smile on her face, vanishing up the stairs, to the girls' dormitory.
"It looks like she has been crying" whispered Harry; Ron seemed puzzled. "How can you tell?"
"Didn't you see her? Her eyes were all swollen and cheeks were red."
"I bet it was Malfoy, he must have bullied her and taken her shoes" Ron growled, jumping to his feet and rubbing his knuckles.
".. her badge and scarf was missing too," Harry added, "We don't know for sure what's wrong, so I'll have a talk with her later"
Ron grabbed his scissors and waved them vigorously in the air as if waving a sword (or a wand): "if he has as much as touched her, I'll hex him in to a slug and feed him to Errol", he shouted, causing Seamus Finnigan to peer up from his books.
~*~*~@~*~*~
The head girl's room was at the very top of the tower, and about half the size of the common room, with a comfortable seating area for guests that had issues to be discussed. She had barely gotten through the door before she pulled her clothes off. Robe and socks first, pausing before pulling down -his- boxers and throwing it all in a pile on her bed shuddering. She suppressed an urge to do a vaporizing spell, and ridding herself of the evidence, but she figured Snape might ask for his bed clothes back. Unlike the rest of the students, she had her private bathroom, and once naked, she didn't give the pile of clothes a second glance, and just disappeared inside to soak herself.
It was still all too surreal to be true, but she was willing now to accept it, more so because he obviously did. He had been surprisingly tolerant and though far from pleasant, he had done little to humiliate her further, which had made the situation more bearable.
"So what if I slept with Snape?" she said out loud, testing her voice in the small stone bathroom. Her nerves made her shudder; proud at her bravery, she turned the taps on, and sat down on the on the edge bath to reflect. She didn't quite know why she had been so dizzy that Halloween night, and she could only assume, what had affected her, had affected him also. It was something she would have to ask him tomorrow when she collected the potion. A contraceptive potion. She gazed down on her stomach, and stroked it, wondering. It was a highly disturbing thought, but since she was playing around with her own bravery, she couldn't help contemplate the possibility: to be pregnant with Snape's baby. Oh, what she would give to see Ron's reaction if she was to tell him that. She giggled.
She turned the taps off, and emptied a vial of home made bath oils into the warm water, sinking her small body into the silky warmth of the tub. Leaning back, she returned to her original trail of thought - figuring out just what had happened last night.
He had touched her, in ways that nobody had been allowed to touch her before; it would've made her break down into tears again, had she actually remembered anything from it. But now, it felt more like some absurd story, a bit like when your parents tell you about some childhood event that you held no memory of. She tried to imagine it, his big hands roaming across her stomach, his hooked nose inches of her face, and his heavy weight upon her, over her -- she winced, sinking deeper in to the warm water, reaching for a scrub and some soap and painfully began to rub herself clean.
~*~*~@~*~*~
No matter how vigorously she washed herself, when she got out of the tub, she still felt dirty - no - filthy was more like it. Filthy and robbed of something sacred and private that she would never be able to gain back; what was more, she didn't even know if he was fully to blame. Silent tears rolled down her face again, but she was settling with the idea, accepting it more then approving of it, and wiped her cheek absently while pulling some clean robes from her closet.
A gentle knock was heard on the door; Hermione went to answer it, dressed in her white bathrobe, and her hair wrapped up in a towel. It was Harry; she could see her current state of dress startled him, and with an awkward smile, he drew his gaze to the floor.
"Heya Hermione, is this a bad time?"
"Not at all Harry.." she said with a smile, opening the door fully. "Come inside"
Harry and Ron often spent time in her quarters, even when she wasn't present, but never with out her permission. She would be down in the library or patrolling the halls, while Harry and the lads would gather in her room, chatting about Quidditch and girls, and consuming large quantities of Butter beer and sweets. She was quite surprised to see him alone.
"Where is Ron?"
Harry moved in to the room, and shrugged his shoulders, peering curiously about.
"He's with Seamus, his mom sent him some new Quidditch magazines." Hermione fixed him with a stern look. "Wha'?" he asked, puzzled
"Why are you here, Harry?" she asked, shutting the door behind him.
"We don't chat much anymore 'Mione, thought I would come and, you know.. see how you were"
"Uh-huh", Hermione replied sceptically, choosing not to question him.
Over the last few years of war and death, Harry had grown secluded and modest in his nature. It has been tough for them all, especially for 'the boy that still lived', and with Voldemort still roaming, he was regarded as somewhat of a national symbol who got praised where ever he went. As long as Harry was alive, everybody felt safe, and so he was watched over, and protected, making him a prisoner in the school. Harry didn't appreciate the publicity, or the fame, and with the ever-present danger lurking, he had become quiet, and difficult to read at times, even for Hermione and Ron.
"What happened to your shoes?" he asked, watching as she vanished into the bathroom. "It's a long story Harry" she murmured, as she turned the taps on, and fished out her toothbrush and paste.
"Did Malfoy's cronies attack you?"
He didn't get a reply, as she was brushing her teeth. He shrugged and looked about her room, making his way over to the dresser where a large bowl of minty drops stood. She always had sweets out in case of visitors, but never anything but sugar free muggle ones that her parents sent her on a regular basis. He popped one in his mouth, and peered at her large four poster bed and the clothes she had discarded there; among them, Snape's underwear.
Boxers? He didn't know she wore boxer shorts! He picked up the black pair and flipped it over in his hands; they seemed a bit big for her too, he contemplated.
"What are you doing?" His face turned scarlet as Hermione came out of the bathroom, fully dressed in her proper school robes, catching him in the act.
"Oh, I am sorry", he stammered, apologetic, dropping the boxer shorts back on the bed.
"I.. was just surprised to see that you wear boxers!" He grinned awkwardly, and she snatched the pair, stuffing them into a drawer.
"I don't!" was her simple reply, and he thought it wise not to push it.
"I didn't see you for breakfast", he tried instead, seeing how she was doing a toasting spell on some bread she had stored away in a cabinet. Having finished, she started spreading on jam.
"Uhm, no.. I was.. uhm, in a meeting!"
"That early in the morning?"
"Well yes, it was -very- important". She took a bite of her bread and turned to face him, with a look of confidence. "You don't have to tell me 'Mione, if you don't want to, but there is no need to lie". Harry frowned, and took a seat on the bed.
"I am not lying, Harry!" she snapped, "I went to bed really early last night, and I woke up before everybody else, and had a meeting with.. Professor McGonagall!"
Harry fixed her with a pair of suspicious looking green eyes
"And if I ask McGonagall.." Her mind raced. "She probably won't admit to it -- I wasn't supposed to tell anybody in the first place!"
"Ron is right", he laughed. "You are a terrible liar!"
Hermione was now fuming, the toast shaking in her grip.
"Think what you like Harry!" she spat, turning to face the window. "I do not like being interrogated! If you don't believe me, then fine!"
Harry sat on the bed, and took a deep breath while watching her. "Fine, fine! It doesn't explain why you are walking about the school in socks and boxers", he had to grin a little, "but if you don't feel like telling, you don't have to."
"I don't want to". A voice came from over by the window; it was weaker sounding then intended. He observed her, one arm tucked around her chest for, it seemed, a sense of safety. Whatever it was, it was obviously bothering her, and he figured she would tell him when she was ready.
"Heh, did you hear about the two girls in Hufflepuff?" he tried instead, deciding to change the subject all together.
"What girls?", she asked, peaking over her shoulder
"Maysa I think one of them is called, I can't remember the name of the other, both in third year.. ginger haired girl, they always walk in a pair."
"Maysa and Ruby" she replied quietly.
"Yes, that is them. Heh, well somebody, apparently, put Vodka in the punch; they ended up getting *completely* drunk. They were said to have run about the halls singing the Hogwarts anthem, while chasing Mrs.Norris!" He laughed at the image. "Filch was fuming when he caught them, and of course, he wanted them instantly expelled. Well, Professor Sprout said it was not really their fault, unless they had drugged the punch themselves; the pair were sent to the Hospital wing, instead, where they slept off the alcohol's effects".
He chuckled, and glanced over at Hermione expecting her to do the same; the look on her face, however, confused him.
Hermione just glared at him, her expression was one mixed with shock and terror, and she clapped her hand over her mouth as if it would keep her from crying.
"Are you okay?", Harry asked, rising to his feet, returning her gaze.
"W.. who.." was all she managed, trembling with what he could only guess was fury.
"I don't know.. I mean, the teachers might know.. what is the matter; are you okay?"
So, it was alcohol! She wasn't much of a drinker, but she had never known it could affect her so; in fact it was quite confusing. She hadn't had that much punch, no more then say, Harry or Ron, and they didn't seem to suffer from as much as a hangover. And Snape, he was a drinker; she had seen the various bottles in his room ranging from Absinth to wines and whiskeys, and she quite doubted that a bottle of Vodka alone would cause him any more harm then feeling a bit disoriented and wake up with a minor headache.
No, this made no sense; but at the moment, she couldn't think up another explanation - as Snape had said 'considering the facts and the given situation' - she could see no other conclusion.
"That is it, isn't it.. -you- got drunk last night".
The statement startled her and she just gaped at Harry in amazement - how did he know?
"You got drunk last night", Harry continued, and you.. ", he looked down on the improvised school robe that didn't even look remotely like the genuine article, when seen up close, and grinned awkwardly. "Took off your clothes? Please tell me you didn't strip Hermione!"
She swallowed hard.
"That's why we couldn't find you last night, that was why you were dressed in bits and pieces." He laughed. "You spent last night in the hospital wing! And in the morning, Madam Pomfrey made this.. ensemble for you!". He smiled brightly up at her, looking quite content with himself. "It all makes sense now!"
Hermione let out a deep breath and dropped down resigned on the bed, whispering in a voice hardly audible. "Yes! Almost!" She shook her head; "please Harry, if I tell you, if I tell you what -really- happened, will you promise me, swear that you won't tell anybody else? Nobody? Especially Ron?"
"Of course!", he replied firmly, "you know I wont tell anybody!"
She dropped her head in her hands and moaned. "Oh, I can't! It is too humiliating -- I am sorry Harry." He settled down beside her, put a hand on her shoulder, and clutched it. "C'mon, you can tell me, was I right? Did you get drunk last night?"
She shuddered at his touch and drew her shoulder out from under his hand, whispering a surrendering "yes".
"and.. you.. got undressed?" he asked carefully, waiting in anticipation. Hermione replied in a near whimper, "kind of.."
"And you spent last night in the hospital wing with the Hufflepuff girls!" he concluded, feeling most proud of himself.
"No" she replied, coolly. Hermione moved back to her feet and in a hunched posture she took a few steps forward, eyes fixed on the floorboards. "I don't remember much from last night at all, I don't know if I stripped, I could have." She could barely stand to look at him, standing with her back facing the bed. Harry watched her attentively
"Harry.. I woke up in..", she took a deep breath, and turned around to face him.
She spoke in the best of her lecturing tones, and fixed him with a confident stare: "Harry! I got drunk, and slept with Snape".
The words vibrated in the air long after she had said them, and she marvelled at her own courage, as well as the perverted curiosity at how Harry would react.
"W.. w.. WHAT? You got to be kidding!", Harry shouted, gaping at her with his mouth wide open, his eyes at their widest. "No! No you can't be serious! C'mon Hermione, you must be kidding here!".
She lowered her chin to the floor, and he could see a tear sliding down her cheek, that she hastily wiped away. "It is true, I don't remember anything from it, but I awoke this morning in Snapes bed.. n.. naked!".
"That.. that..". Fury would be far too subtle a word to describe Harry's feeling at that moment, and he rubbed his face in disbelief, still gaping in to the air. "That fucking bastard!"
"Harry!" she snapped at him.
"That evil sick minded bastard!". He leaped up to his feet and began pacing back and forth restlessly, rubbing his hands. "I never thought him capable of... That fucking evil bastard!"
"HARRY!" she snapped again, grabbing him by the arm. He peered down on her in anger, fuming.
"He didn't know Harry, he doesn't remember anything from last night either." Or at least he'd said he didn't, she mused.
"And you BELIVE him?"
"Harry please, you won't tell anybody, will you? You promised, remember?"
He watched her in disbelief, his mouth having difficulties to form the words, shock still overriding his mind. Hermione was like a sister, and though of the same age, he and Ron were still as protective of her as Ron was of Ginny, and the thought of Snape -that- man, of all people, touching her, undressing her... His mind couldn't finish the thought. "You must tell somebody! How can you just.. accept it, what's happened."
"Please Harry, I know what I am doing", she looked at him, pleading. "I am dealing with it, as best as I can!".
"What? How?" "Me and Professor Snape had a long talk, we-"
"Talk!?". Harry's expression was dumbfounded.
"Yes.. since neither of us remember what happened, and both of us would rather forget about it, we have decided to not tell anybody."
"We? Or -him- Hermione, you just told -ME-!"
"And please don't let it be a mistake Harry! I don't want anybody to find out, it is " The tears ran down her face freely now, and she clutched his arm almost painfully
"Please Harry, please promise me you wont tell anybody! Please..". He just stared at her, unable to form words.
"PLEASE! Promise me Harry!". He watched her crying, and pulled himself away from her.
"Okay, okay.. I promise.. I wont tell..". A strict finger pointed at her; "-I- wont tell, but you should!"
She smiled a little, sniffed and gave a nod
"Yes.. yes, I.. still might.. I am still coping with the shock myself.. I am not ready yet at any rate.."
Harry shook his head again. "This is too much.."
"Tell me about it!" she laughed, amazed that she actually could laugh at it.
"Snape? Severus Snape? You had actual sex with greasy hair, half bat, half rat, Snape?" Hermione nodded..
"This is too much!"
*****************************
Thank you ever so much for all the lovely reviews, it makes my day so much better when they arrive in my mailing box, and it makes me want to write faster.
Thank you Nicole for your lovely Beat reading, you do a brilliant job at it *hugs*
Now, to answer some questions, where in England I go to? I live in Bournemouth, well I study art there :) I am originally Norwegian.
A lot of people has complained that my Hermione isn't kick arse enough ;) Well, I have taken this in consideration and will do my best to improve her attitude later in the story; it will be easier when I am not writing about her being ether shocked or upset.
What people tell me in emails or in review I do take in to consideration, and I do listen and change my plot accordingly, if somebody point out something or come up with some good advice :)
Osculate? Brilliant word, thank you for that, have been using it all week "Heya darling, want to come to my room to osculate for a bit" *laughs*
"There you are Hermione!", called Ron and Harry, situated on the other side of the common room, and cutting out a newspaper photo of some Quidditch beater. "I told you she wasn't asleep" Ron told Harry; flickering a piece of paper into the bin. "What happened to your shoes?" Harry asked, glancing down at Hermione black socks.
'Oh sorry, I borrowed these from Professor Snape since I woke up this morning naked, with nary piece of clothing to be seen' she thought to herself, imagining their faces. Sobering, she said "It's a long story Harry, I'll tell you later, maybe. She had enough secrets of her own, and as they no longer questioned everything she did, she passed them with a pleasant smile on her face, vanishing up the stairs, to the girls' dormitory.
"It looks like she has been crying" whispered Harry; Ron seemed puzzled. "How can you tell?"
"Didn't you see her? Her eyes were all swollen and cheeks were red."
"I bet it was Malfoy, he must have bullied her and taken her shoes" Ron growled, jumping to his feet and rubbing his knuckles.
".. her badge and scarf was missing too," Harry added, "We don't know for sure what's wrong, so I'll have a talk with her later"
Ron grabbed his scissors and waved them vigorously in the air as if waving a sword (or a wand): "if he has as much as touched her, I'll hex him in to a slug and feed him to Errol", he shouted, causing Seamus Finnigan to peer up from his books.
~*~*~@~*~*~
The head girl's room was at the very top of the tower, and about half the size of the common room, with a comfortable seating area for guests that had issues to be discussed. She had barely gotten through the door before she pulled her clothes off. Robe and socks first, pausing before pulling down -his- boxers and throwing it all in a pile on her bed shuddering. She suppressed an urge to do a vaporizing spell, and ridding herself of the evidence, but she figured Snape might ask for his bed clothes back. Unlike the rest of the students, she had her private bathroom, and once naked, she didn't give the pile of clothes a second glance, and just disappeared inside to soak herself.
It was still all too surreal to be true, but she was willing now to accept it, more so because he obviously did. He had been surprisingly tolerant and though far from pleasant, he had done little to humiliate her further, which had made the situation more bearable.
"So what if I slept with Snape?" she said out loud, testing her voice in the small stone bathroom. Her nerves made her shudder; proud at her bravery, she turned the taps on, and sat down on the on the edge bath to reflect. She didn't quite know why she had been so dizzy that Halloween night, and she could only assume, what had affected her, had affected him also. It was something she would have to ask him tomorrow when she collected the potion. A contraceptive potion. She gazed down on her stomach, and stroked it, wondering. It was a highly disturbing thought, but since she was playing around with her own bravery, she couldn't help contemplate the possibility: to be pregnant with Snape's baby. Oh, what she would give to see Ron's reaction if she was to tell him that. She giggled.
She turned the taps off, and emptied a vial of home made bath oils into the warm water, sinking her small body into the silky warmth of the tub. Leaning back, she returned to her original trail of thought - figuring out just what had happened last night.
He had touched her, in ways that nobody had been allowed to touch her before; it would've made her break down into tears again, had she actually remembered anything from it. But now, it felt more like some absurd story, a bit like when your parents tell you about some childhood event that you held no memory of. She tried to imagine it, his big hands roaming across her stomach, his hooked nose inches of her face, and his heavy weight upon her, over her -- she winced, sinking deeper in to the warm water, reaching for a scrub and some soap and painfully began to rub herself clean.
~*~*~@~*~*~
No matter how vigorously she washed herself, when she got out of the tub, she still felt dirty - no - filthy was more like it. Filthy and robbed of something sacred and private that she would never be able to gain back; what was more, she didn't even know if he was fully to blame. Silent tears rolled down her face again, but she was settling with the idea, accepting it more then approving of it, and wiped her cheek absently while pulling some clean robes from her closet.
A gentle knock was heard on the door; Hermione went to answer it, dressed in her white bathrobe, and her hair wrapped up in a towel. It was Harry; she could see her current state of dress startled him, and with an awkward smile, he drew his gaze to the floor.
"Heya Hermione, is this a bad time?"
"Not at all Harry.." she said with a smile, opening the door fully. "Come inside"
Harry and Ron often spent time in her quarters, even when she wasn't present, but never with out her permission. She would be down in the library or patrolling the halls, while Harry and the lads would gather in her room, chatting about Quidditch and girls, and consuming large quantities of Butter beer and sweets. She was quite surprised to see him alone.
"Where is Ron?"
Harry moved in to the room, and shrugged his shoulders, peering curiously about.
"He's with Seamus, his mom sent him some new Quidditch magazines." Hermione fixed him with a stern look. "Wha'?" he asked, puzzled
"Why are you here, Harry?" she asked, shutting the door behind him.
"We don't chat much anymore 'Mione, thought I would come and, you know.. see how you were"
"Uh-huh", Hermione replied sceptically, choosing not to question him.
Over the last few years of war and death, Harry had grown secluded and modest in his nature. It has been tough for them all, especially for 'the boy that still lived', and with Voldemort still roaming, he was regarded as somewhat of a national symbol who got praised where ever he went. As long as Harry was alive, everybody felt safe, and so he was watched over, and protected, making him a prisoner in the school. Harry didn't appreciate the publicity, or the fame, and with the ever-present danger lurking, he had become quiet, and difficult to read at times, even for Hermione and Ron.
"What happened to your shoes?" he asked, watching as she vanished into the bathroom. "It's a long story Harry" she murmured, as she turned the taps on, and fished out her toothbrush and paste.
"Did Malfoy's cronies attack you?"
He didn't get a reply, as she was brushing her teeth. He shrugged and looked about her room, making his way over to the dresser where a large bowl of minty drops stood. She always had sweets out in case of visitors, but never anything but sugar free muggle ones that her parents sent her on a regular basis. He popped one in his mouth, and peered at her large four poster bed and the clothes she had discarded there; among them, Snape's underwear.
Boxers? He didn't know she wore boxer shorts! He picked up the black pair and flipped it over in his hands; they seemed a bit big for her too, he contemplated.
"What are you doing?" His face turned scarlet as Hermione came out of the bathroom, fully dressed in her proper school robes, catching him in the act.
"Oh, I am sorry", he stammered, apologetic, dropping the boxer shorts back on the bed.
"I.. was just surprised to see that you wear boxers!" He grinned awkwardly, and she snatched the pair, stuffing them into a drawer.
"I don't!" was her simple reply, and he thought it wise not to push it.
"I didn't see you for breakfast", he tried instead, seeing how she was doing a toasting spell on some bread she had stored away in a cabinet. Having finished, she started spreading on jam.
"Uhm, no.. I was.. uhm, in a meeting!"
"That early in the morning?"
"Well yes, it was -very- important". She took a bite of her bread and turned to face him, with a look of confidence. "You don't have to tell me 'Mione, if you don't want to, but there is no need to lie". Harry frowned, and took a seat on the bed.
"I am not lying, Harry!" she snapped, "I went to bed really early last night, and I woke up before everybody else, and had a meeting with.. Professor McGonagall!"
Harry fixed her with a pair of suspicious looking green eyes
"And if I ask McGonagall.." Her mind raced. "She probably won't admit to it -- I wasn't supposed to tell anybody in the first place!"
"Ron is right", he laughed. "You are a terrible liar!"
Hermione was now fuming, the toast shaking in her grip.
"Think what you like Harry!" she spat, turning to face the window. "I do not like being interrogated! If you don't believe me, then fine!"
Harry sat on the bed, and took a deep breath while watching her. "Fine, fine! It doesn't explain why you are walking about the school in socks and boxers", he had to grin a little, "but if you don't feel like telling, you don't have to."
"I don't want to". A voice came from over by the window; it was weaker sounding then intended. He observed her, one arm tucked around her chest for, it seemed, a sense of safety. Whatever it was, it was obviously bothering her, and he figured she would tell him when she was ready.
"Heh, did you hear about the two girls in Hufflepuff?" he tried instead, deciding to change the subject all together.
"What girls?", she asked, peaking over her shoulder
"Maysa I think one of them is called, I can't remember the name of the other, both in third year.. ginger haired girl, they always walk in a pair."
"Maysa and Ruby" she replied quietly.
"Yes, that is them. Heh, well somebody, apparently, put Vodka in the punch; they ended up getting *completely* drunk. They were said to have run about the halls singing the Hogwarts anthem, while chasing Mrs.Norris!" He laughed at the image. "Filch was fuming when he caught them, and of course, he wanted them instantly expelled. Well, Professor Sprout said it was not really their fault, unless they had drugged the punch themselves; the pair were sent to the Hospital wing, instead, where they slept off the alcohol's effects".
He chuckled, and glanced over at Hermione expecting her to do the same; the look on her face, however, confused him.
Hermione just glared at him, her expression was one mixed with shock and terror, and she clapped her hand over her mouth as if it would keep her from crying.
"Are you okay?", Harry asked, rising to his feet, returning her gaze.
"W.. who.." was all she managed, trembling with what he could only guess was fury.
"I don't know.. I mean, the teachers might know.. what is the matter; are you okay?"
So, it was alcohol! She wasn't much of a drinker, but she had never known it could affect her so; in fact it was quite confusing. She hadn't had that much punch, no more then say, Harry or Ron, and they didn't seem to suffer from as much as a hangover. And Snape, he was a drinker; she had seen the various bottles in his room ranging from Absinth to wines and whiskeys, and she quite doubted that a bottle of Vodka alone would cause him any more harm then feeling a bit disoriented and wake up with a minor headache.
No, this made no sense; but at the moment, she couldn't think up another explanation - as Snape had said 'considering the facts and the given situation' - she could see no other conclusion.
"That is it, isn't it.. -you- got drunk last night".
The statement startled her and she just gaped at Harry in amazement - how did he know?
"You got drunk last night", Harry continued, and you.. ", he looked down on the improvised school robe that didn't even look remotely like the genuine article, when seen up close, and grinned awkwardly. "Took off your clothes? Please tell me you didn't strip Hermione!"
She swallowed hard.
"That's why we couldn't find you last night, that was why you were dressed in bits and pieces." He laughed. "You spent last night in the hospital wing! And in the morning, Madam Pomfrey made this.. ensemble for you!". He smiled brightly up at her, looking quite content with himself. "It all makes sense now!"
Hermione let out a deep breath and dropped down resigned on the bed, whispering in a voice hardly audible. "Yes! Almost!" She shook her head; "please Harry, if I tell you, if I tell you what -really- happened, will you promise me, swear that you won't tell anybody else? Nobody? Especially Ron?"
"Of course!", he replied firmly, "you know I wont tell anybody!"
She dropped her head in her hands and moaned. "Oh, I can't! It is too humiliating -- I am sorry Harry." He settled down beside her, put a hand on her shoulder, and clutched it. "C'mon, you can tell me, was I right? Did you get drunk last night?"
She shuddered at his touch and drew her shoulder out from under his hand, whispering a surrendering "yes".
"and.. you.. got undressed?" he asked carefully, waiting in anticipation. Hermione replied in a near whimper, "kind of.."
"And you spent last night in the hospital wing with the Hufflepuff girls!" he concluded, feeling most proud of himself.
"No" she replied, coolly. Hermione moved back to her feet and in a hunched posture she took a few steps forward, eyes fixed on the floorboards. "I don't remember much from last night at all, I don't know if I stripped, I could have." She could barely stand to look at him, standing with her back facing the bed. Harry watched her attentively
"Harry.. I woke up in..", she took a deep breath, and turned around to face him.
She spoke in the best of her lecturing tones, and fixed him with a confident stare: "Harry! I got drunk, and slept with Snape".
The words vibrated in the air long after she had said them, and she marvelled at her own courage, as well as the perverted curiosity at how Harry would react.
"W.. w.. WHAT? You got to be kidding!", Harry shouted, gaping at her with his mouth wide open, his eyes at their widest. "No! No you can't be serious! C'mon Hermione, you must be kidding here!".
She lowered her chin to the floor, and he could see a tear sliding down her cheek, that she hastily wiped away. "It is true, I don't remember anything from it, but I awoke this morning in Snapes bed.. n.. naked!".
"That.. that..". Fury would be far too subtle a word to describe Harry's feeling at that moment, and he rubbed his face in disbelief, still gaping in to the air. "That fucking bastard!"
"Harry!" she snapped at him.
"That evil sick minded bastard!". He leaped up to his feet and began pacing back and forth restlessly, rubbing his hands. "I never thought him capable of... That fucking evil bastard!"
"HARRY!" she snapped again, grabbing him by the arm. He peered down on her in anger, fuming.
"He didn't know Harry, he doesn't remember anything from last night either." Or at least he'd said he didn't, she mused.
"And you BELIVE him?"
"Harry please, you won't tell anybody, will you? You promised, remember?"
He watched her in disbelief, his mouth having difficulties to form the words, shock still overriding his mind. Hermione was like a sister, and though of the same age, he and Ron were still as protective of her as Ron was of Ginny, and the thought of Snape -that- man, of all people, touching her, undressing her... His mind couldn't finish the thought. "You must tell somebody! How can you just.. accept it, what's happened."
"Please Harry, I know what I am doing", she looked at him, pleading. "I am dealing with it, as best as I can!".
"What? How?" "Me and Professor Snape had a long talk, we-"
"Talk!?". Harry's expression was dumbfounded.
"Yes.. since neither of us remember what happened, and both of us would rather forget about it, we have decided to not tell anybody."
"We? Or -him- Hermione, you just told -ME-!"
"And please don't let it be a mistake Harry! I don't want anybody to find out, it is " The tears ran down her face freely now, and she clutched his arm almost painfully
"Please Harry, please promise me you wont tell anybody! Please..". He just stared at her, unable to form words.
"PLEASE! Promise me Harry!". He watched her crying, and pulled himself away from her.
"Okay, okay.. I promise.. I wont tell..". A strict finger pointed at her; "-I- wont tell, but you should!"
She smiled a little, sniffed and gave a nod
"Yes.. yes, I.. still might.. I am still coping with the shock myself.. I am not ready yet at any rate.."
Harry shook his head again. "This is too much.."
"Tell me about it!" she laughed, amazed that she actually could laugh at it.
"Snape? Severus Snape? You had actual sex with greasy hair, half bat, half rat, Snape?" Hermione nodded..
"This is too much!"
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Thank you ever so much for all the lovely reviews, it makes my day so much better when they arrive in my mailing box, and it makes me want to write faster.
Thank you Nicole for your lovely Beat reading, you do a brilliant job at it *hugs*
Now, to answer some questions, where in England I go to? I live in Bournemouth, well I study art there :) I am originally Norwegian.
A lot of people has complained that my Hermione isn't kick arse enough ;) Well, I have taken this in consideration and will do my best to improve her attitude later in the story; it will be easier when I am not writing about her being ether shocked or upset.
What people tell me in emails or in review I do take in to consideration, and I do listen and change my plot accordingly, if somebody point out something or come up with some good advice :)
Osculate? Brilliant word, thank you for that, have been using it all week "Heya darling, want to come to my room to osculate for a bit" *laughs*