A/N: I'm on a roll! AND I'm back at work! One is decidedly better than
the other. My manager is a hole.
JennyRad - What can I say? I'm weak! Forgive me, I'll try not to do it again!
Beron - Yeah, CPR! Hehehehe. Not sure it works right standing up though! But would Ron know that? Hmmmmmm.
This was fun to write, I hope it's fun to read, too.
***
Hermione stared at Ron, her face suddenly hot with embarrassment. She was vaguely aware of Severus standing by her side but found she could not look at him. He touched her arm once, and leaned down to murmur into her ear.
"Would you like me to leave?" He straightened up to address Ron directly. "I would hate to ruin such a . . . special visit, Mr. Weasley."
Hermione's cheeks flamed as she watched him stalk back across the grounds towards the castle. She found herself angry and humiliated for reasons she could not define. Her hands clenched into small fists at her sides, she inhaled and let out a long breath before turning to her old friend, managing a hesitant smile. He had changed so much in the years since she had last seen him, filling out his gangly form so that he was now both tall and broad-chested. His face was still boyish, but now boyishly handsome, and in another time and place Hermione would have found him very attractive. The only problem was she knew that underneath his skin he was still the same Ron she knew when she was eleven. He had been one of her best friends, there had been a time when they had known each other so well . . . Hermione looked over at him and her eyes filled with sudden happy tears.
"Ron. It's been so long . . ." She went to him then, and they shared a tentative embrace. Ron relaxed into her enough to give her a little squeeze, and then pulled away, his confusion evident.
"What did I just see then?" He asked her quietly.
"It's not what it looked like!" Hermione was quick to defend herself, but at the same time she couldn't quite make herself believe that her words were true.
"What it looked like, Hermione, was you almost kissing the dear potions Professor." Ron raised a fair eyebrow so high it almost disappeared into his bright red hair. Hermione swallowed.
"All right, so it was what it looked like!" Her voice was shrill. Ron looked stunned.
"But why, Herm?"
"I . . . I don't know," she shook her head, mind racing. Ron's sudden appearance had immediately severed the connection between herself and Severus, only leaving her with sharply etched memories of his holding her, his touch, the way his face had hovered over hers . . . she trembled violently, not understanding. They were walking one minute, and the next they were almost kissing. She fleetingly wondered what it would have been like to kiss him, and then her mind flinched away from the thought, sending her spinning back to the present. Ron had crossed his arms across his chest, and was frowning. "Because I wanted to." She said in a small voice. Ron drew in breath sharply.
"What on earth is going on?" He took three steps to his left, wheeled about and repeated the motion. "First I get the strangest owl from you, so I come straight here, and what's the first thing I see? You nearly snogging that overgrown bat!"
His childish jibe hit home sharply. Hermione was regaining her composure quickly now, and she was damned if she would let that one pass.
"We were not snogging!" She shouted. "And he's not an overgrown bat! Will you ever grow up?" Her voice lowered a little. "We're colleagues, Ron. He's . . . different now. He's changed."
Ron snorted incredulously. "Right, Hermione. Right."
Hermione looked at him, her eyes beseeching.
"Please don't start with this," she sighed. He must have known what she meant, because he ran a hand through his hair and then shook his head ruefully.
"When did you get so gorgeous anyway?" He grumbled. She narrowed her eyes in mock-annoyance.
"I've always been gorgeous, you've just never noticed until now," she took his arm, pulling him into a slow walk around the edges of the lake. Her expression became serious again. "Ron, I need to talk to you about something . . ."
"Anything, Herm." Ron smiled down at her. She wished that he would not call her 'Herm'. Annoyance sparked in her eyes, and then disappeared as she remembered why he was here.
"It's about Harry," she whispered.
"Oh." His face was suddenly as serious as hers. "Go on then."
Hermione began at the beginning. It took a long time. They stopped at the far side of the lake, sitting side by side and looking out over the water. She somehow found the strength to tell Ron the truth, to explain her feelings for Harry as best she could, to say that she was sorry. To her surprise, Ron seemed to understand, taking her difficult revelations in his stride. He was at pains to tell her that he did not blame her or hate her, as she had been afraid he would. He was softly spoken and philosophical, reminding her that he was an adult as well as she. She cried. He comforted her.
The sun was slipping behind the horizon by the time he reluctantly got up to leave. Hermione remained sitting, her arms wrapped around her knees. It was cold but her cloak was keeping the worst of it out. She looked up at Ron; he looked down at her fondly.
"I'll be seeing you, Hermione." He said softly. "I wish I could stay longer, but the Cannons, you know . . ."
"I know, Ron," she lied, closing her eyes as he bent to kiss the top of her head. "Goodbye."
"Don't you stay out here too long," he muttered. "It's getting cold."
"I won't. Just a little while longer," she promised him, wanting to enjoy the last rays of the sun. He ruffled her hair, and then she heard his soft footfalls drawing away. She turned a little and then watched his departing back until he was hidden from her in the dusk.
Turning her head back to the lake and the sun she gave a long sigh, simultaneously feeling a weight lifting from her shoulders, a weight she had carried around for the longest time. It was almost exhilarating to be free of it at last, but still. . . Hermione's cinnamon eyes darkened. She still had to speak to Ginny, and that would not be half so easy. Ginny had always been a little standoffish, a little wary of Hermione simply because she had been close to Harry, and what Hermione had to tell her was guaranteed not to improve their brittle friendship. Hermione wondered if she was being selfish in telling Ginny something she could probably go the rest of her life without knowing. Probably, came back the answer, but she was determined that her conscience be clear, and if that meant telling Ginny the truth and asking for forgiveness then so be it. There could be no moving on until she could confront the demons of her past, so confront them she must.
The sun finally slid away in a blaze of crimson light, and faint stars began to twinkle in the heavens above Hermione's head. She leant back into the still damp ground, looking up at them. A faint smile appeared on her lips. She felt completely alone, and for the first time it was not a bad feeling. She felt at peace. Her eyes began to close sleepily, she allowed herself to drift. Only for a few minutes, she told herself, just a few . . .
*
"Merlin, you're freezing!" Hermione was lulled from her sleep what only seemed like minutes later by an angry voice hissing in her ears. She opened her eyes blearily, slowly taking in the pitch darkness around her. Not minutes then, she thought, closing her eyes again.
"Hermione!" The voice warned her, and she forced them back open. Severus Snape's face came into sharp focus, very close by. "Wake up!" He whispered.
"I'm awake," she protested groggily, struggling into a sitting position. A pair of hands briskly rubbed her arms. They were warm. She sighed with pleasure. The rubbing abruptly stopped.
"Get up." She was hauled unceremoniously to her feet, where she stood wobbling until he placed a steadying arm around her. She looked up at Severus curiously.
"How long have I been asleep? What time is it?" Her voice was husky with sleep.
"Nearly ten. You have been missing for hours." His voice was taught with anger.
"Missing? I've been right here," Hermione smiled beatifically. He ignored it and gave her a little nudge so that she would begin walking back towards the school.
"Yes well, we know that now. Half the castle has been out looking for you."
Severus stopped suddenly, catching her in a fierce hug that knocked the breath out of her. With a shocked 'oof!' she let him squeeze her and then let her go so quickly she almost fell over backwards. What was going on?
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, genuinely remorseful that her falling asleep had caused so much trouble.
"Tell that to Dumbledore." He grasped her arm, and continued to march her back around the lake. Hermione looked up at him, hardly recognising the angry man she was walking alongside. His face was all planes and angles, most of it hidden in the darkness, but what she could see of it was definitely angry. Hermione remembered what it was to face off with an angry Severus and felt a jolt of fear. She stopped walking, making him stop too, and faced him in the darkness. His eyes were glittering, his mouth a hard, straight line.
"Please . . ." Her voice was low. "Please, don't be angry . . ."
"Angry?" Severus spluttered. "Angry? Have you ever been frantic with worry, Hermione? Anything could have happened to you out here! How could you be so irresponsible!"
Hermione was momentarily speechless. Frantic with worry? Her heart lurched southwards and she gave a little gasp.
"I. Fell. Asleep." She said eventually. "I'm cold, but I think I'll survive if it's all the same to you."
"Don't be flippant!" He snapped, close enough for her to see his breath clouding the air between them.
"I wasn't!" She protested. "I was just saying . . ."
He grasped her by the shoulders, his fingers biting into her skin.
"Be quiet." His voice was dangerous. "Be quiet, or so help me I'll . . ."
She didn't let him finish the sentence. Couldn't. Instead, she simply leaned forward and upward and placed a gentle kiss against his mouth, pulling away almost the instant her lips touched his. He was warm, she thought hazily. He was looking at her quizzically.
"Why did you do that?" He whispered.
"Because I wanted to," she replied, not for the first time that evening.
An arm went around her waist and up her spine, tugging her in closer to him. They were touching chest to chest, and Hermione could feel the rapid staccato of his heart. A hand grasped her chin, titling her face up to his.
"Do it again." He instructed hoarsely, and then he was leaning down to her, and she was reaching up to him to repeat the gesture. Her mouth lingered against his this time, wondering and waiting if he would respond, and he did, returning her kiss in the gentle spirit that it was offered but accompanying it with something more. He gave a little groan and then her mouth was opening under gentle persuasion from his. He kissed her as if his life depended on it, and she welcomed it. When he pulled away to look closely into her eyes they were both breathless.
Hermione's head was spinning. This was all too much, and yet at the same time not enough. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she took an uncertain step backwards without her eyes leaving his. He frowned.
"I'm sorry . . . I just can't . . ." A sob caught in her throat and she forced it down.
"Hermione." He said her name like a warning or a prayer, closing his eyes in resignation.
"I've got to . . ." Pushing past him, she broke into an unsteady jog knowing that he would not come after her, not this time. Within seconds there were metres between them.
For all of the difference it made, it might as well have been miles.
JennyRad - What can I say? I'm weak! Forgive me, I'll try not to do it again!
Beron - Yeah, CPR! Hehehehe. Not sure it works right standing up though! But would Ron know that? Hmmmmmm.
This was fun to write, I hope it's fun to read, too.
***
Hermione stared at Ron, her face suddenly hot with embarrassment. She was vaguely aware of Severus standing by her side but found she could not look at him. He touched her arm once, and leaned down to murmur into her ear.
"Would you like me to leave?" He straightened up to address Ron directly. "I would hate to ruin such a . . . special visit, Mr. Weasley."
Hermione's cheeks flamed as she watched him stalk back across the grounds towards the castle. She found herself angry and humiliated for reasons she could not define. Her hands clenched into small fists at her sides, she inhaled and let out a long breath before turning to her old friend, managing a hesitant smile. He had changed so much in the years since she had last seen him, filling out his gangly form so that he was now both tall and broad-chested. His face was still boyish, but now boyishly handsome, and in another time and place Hermione would have found him very attractive. The only problem was she knew that underneath his skin he was still the same Ron she knew when she was eleven. He had been one of her best friends, there had been a time when they had known each other so well . . . Hermione looked over at him and her eyes filled with sudden happy tears.
"Ron. It's been so long . . ." She went to him then, and they shared a tentative embrace. Ron relaxed into her enough to give her a little squeeze, and then pulled away, his confusion evident.
"What did I just see then?" He asked her quietly.
"It's not what it looked like!" Hermione was quick to defend herself, but at the same time she couldn't quite make herself believe that her words were true.
"What it looked like, Hermione, was you almost kissing the dear potions Professor." Ron raised a fair eyebrow so high it almost disappeared into his bright red hair. Hermione swallowed.
"All right, so it was what it looked like!" Her voice was shrill. Ron looked stunned.
"But why, Herm?"
"I . . . I don't know," she shook her head, mind racing. Ron's sudden appearance had immediately severed the connection between herself and Severus, only leaving her with sharply etched memories of his holding her, his touch, the way his face had hovered over hers . . . she trembled violently, not understanding. They were walking one minute, and the next they were almost kissing. She fleetingly wondered what it would have been like to kiss him, and then her mind flinched away from the thought, sending her spinning back to the present. Ron had crossed his arms across his chest, and was frowning. "Because I wanted to." She said in a small voice. Ron drew in breath sharply.
"What on earth is going on?" He took three steps to his left, wheeled about and repeated the motion. "First I get the strangest owl from you, so I come straight here, and what's the first thing I see? You nearly snogging that overgrown bat!"
His childish jibe hit home sharply. Hermione was regaining her composure quickly now, and she was damned if she would let that one pass.
"We were not snogging!" She shouted. "And he's not an overgrown bat! Will you ever grow up?" Her voice lowered a little. "We're colleagues, Ron. He's . . . different now. He's changed."
Ron snorted incredulously. "Right, Hermione. Right."
Hermione looked at him, her eyes beseeching.
"Please don't start with this," she sighed. He must have known what she meant, because he ran a hand through his hair and then shook his head ruefully.
"When did you get so gorgeous anyway?" He grumbled. She narrowed her eyes in mock-annoyance.
"I've always been gorgeous, you've just never noticed until now," she took his arm, pulling him into a slow walk around the edges of the lake. Her expression became serious again. "Ron, I need to talk to you about something . . ."
"Anything, Herm." Ron smiled down at her. She wished that he would not call her 'Herm'. Annoyance sparked in her eyes, and then disappeared as she remembered why he was here.
"It's about Harry," she whispered.
"Oh." His face was suddenly as serious as hers. "Go on then."
Hermione began at the beginning. It took a long time. They stopped at the far side of the lake, sitting side by side and looking out over the water. She somehow found the strength to tell Ron the truth, to explain her feelings for Harry as best she could, to say that she was sorry. To her surprise, Ron seemed to understand, taking her difficult revelations in his stride. He was at pains to tell her that he did not blame her or hate her, as she had been afraid he would. He was softly spoken and philosophical, reminding her that he was an adult as well as she. She cried. He comforted her.
The sun was slipping behind the horizon by the time he reluctantly got up to leave. Hermione remained sitting, her arms wrapped around her knees. It was cold but her cloak was keeping the worst of it out. She looked up at Ron; he looked down at her fondly.
"I'll be seeing you, Hermione." He said softly. "I wish I could stay longer, but the Cannons, you know . . ."
"I know, Ron," she lied, closing her eyes as he bent to kiss the top of her head. "Goodbye."
"Don't you stay out here too long," he muttered. "It's getting cold."
"I won't. Just a little while longer," she promised him, wanting to enjoy the last rays of the sun. He ruffled her hair, and then she heard his soft footfalls drawing away. She turned a little and then watched his departing back until he was hidden from her in the dusk.
Turning her head back to the lake and the sun she gave a long sigh, simultaneously feeling a weight lifting from her shoulders, a weight she had carried around for the longest time. It was almost exhilarating to be free of it at last, but still. . . Hermione's cinnamon eyes darkened. She still had to speak to Ginny, and that would not be half so easy. Ginny had always been a little standoffish, a little wary of Hermione simply because she had been close to Harry, and what Hermione had to tell her was guaranteed not to improve their brittle friendship. Hermione wondered if she was being selfish in telling Ginny something she could probably go the rest of her life without knowing. Probably, came back the answer, but she was determined that her conscience be clear, and if that meant telling Ginny the truth and asking for forgiveness then so be it. There could be no moving on until she could confront the demons of her past, so confront them she must.
The sun finally slid away in a blaze of crimson light, and faint stars began to twinkle in the heavens above Hermione's head. She leant back into the still damp ground, looking up at them. A faint smile appeared on her lips. She felt completely alone, and for the first time it was not a bad feeling. She felt at peace. Her eyes began to close sleepily, she allowed herself to drift. Only for a few minutes, she told herself, just a few . . .
*
"Merlin, you're freezing!" Hermione was lulled from her sleep what only seemed like minutes later by an angry voice hissing in her ears. She opened her eyes blearily, slowly taking in the pitch darkness around her. Not minutes then, she thought, closing her eyes again.
"Hermione!" The voice warned her, and she forced them back open. Severus Snape's face came into sharp focus, very close by. "Wake up!" He whispered.
"I'm awake," she protested groggily, struggling into a sitting position. A pair of hands briskly rubbed her arms. They were warm. She sighed with pleasure. The rubbing abruptly stopped.
"Get up." She was hauled unceremoniously to her feet, where she stood wobbling until he placed a steadying arm around her. She looked up at Severus curiously.
"How long have I been asleep? What time is it?" Her voice was husky with sleep.
"Nearly ten. You have been missing for hours." His voice was taught with anger.
"Missing? I've been right here," Hermione smiled beatifically. He ignored it and gave her a little nudge so that she would begin walking back towards the school.
"Yes well, we know that now. Half the castle has been out looking for you."
Severus stopped suddenly, catching her in a fierce hug that knocked the breath out of her. With a shocked 'oof!' she let him squeeze her and then let her go so quickly she almost fell over backwards. What was going on?
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, genuinely remorseful that her falling asleep had caused so much trouble.
"Tell that to Dumbledore." He grasped her arm, and continued to march her back around the lake. Hermione looked up at him, hardly recognising the angry man she was walking alongside. His face was all planes and angles, most of it hidden in the darkness, but what she could see of it was definitely angry. Hermione remembered what it was to face off with an angry Severus and felt a jolt of fear. She stopped walking, making him stop too, and faced him in the darkness. His eyes were glittering, his mouth a hard, straight line.
"Please . . ." Her voice was low. "Please, don't be angry . . ."
"Angry?" Severus spluttered. "Angry? Have you ever been frantic with worry, Hermione? Anything could have happened to you out here! How could you be so irresponsible!"
Hermione was momentarily speechless. Frantic with worry? Her heart lurched southwards and she gave a little gasp.
"I. Fell. Asleep." She said eventually. "I'm cold, but I think I'll survive if it's all the same to you."
"Don't be flippant!" He snapped, close enough for her to see his breath clouding the air between them.
"I wasn't!" She protested. "I was just saying . . ."
He grasped her by the shoulders, his fingers biting into her skin.
"Be quiet." His voice was dangerous. "Be quiet, or so help me I'll . . ."
She didn't let him finish the sentence. Couldn't. Instead, she simply leaned forward and upward and placed a gentle kiss against his mouth, pulling away almost the instant her lips touched his. He was warm, she thought hazily. He was looking at her quizzically.
"Why did you do that?" He whispered.
"Because I wanted to," she replied, not for the first time that evening.
An arm went around her waist and up her spine, tugging her in closer to him. They were touching chest to chest, and Hermione could feel the rapid staccato of his heart. A hand grasped her chin, titling her face up to his.
"Do it again." He instructed hoarsely, and then he was leaning down to her, and she was reaching up to him to repeat the gesture. Her mouth lingered against his this time, wondering and waiting if he would respond, and he did, returning her kiss in the gentle spirit that it was offered but accompanying it with something more. He gave a little groan and then her mouth was opening under gentle persuasion from his. He kissed her as if his life depended on it, and she welcomed it. When he pulled away to look closely into her eyes they were both breathless.
Hermione's head was spinning. This was all too much, and yet at the same time not enough. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she took an uncertain step backwards without her eyes leaving his. He frowned.
"I'm sorry . . . I just can't . . ." A sob caught in her throat and she forced it down.
"Hermione." He said her name like a warning or a prayer, closing his eyes in resignation.
"I've got to . . ." Pushing past him, she broke into an unsteady jog knowing that he would not come after her, not this time. Within seconds there were metres between them.
For all of the difference it made, it might as well have been miles.
