By Tegan
Echoes
Chapter 10: Moments
Hermione was more than a little anxious as she paced her rooms. Her strides were closely followed from the bed as Crookshanks' head moved back and forth with her movements. She glanced at the clock as she passed. It had been more than an hour since she had made her excuses and retired to her room, but still nothing. She sighed and moved next to her cat. Hermione's hand lowered to rub Crookshanks' furry scalp, and he leaned into her closing his eyes.
"I'm pleased at least one of us can relax," Hermione muttered as her fingers moved to scruff his chin.
Crookshanks responded with a loud rhythmic purr.
Grudgingly, Hermione plopped down next to him. She had much too little patience for this waiting game. She tried forcing herself to sit calmly, but her senses were on edge, listening and searching.
As the minutes ticked by and nothing changed, Hermione began to fidget nervously. Finally giving up any attempts at patience, she shot up and strode the length of the room once more. The burning logs in the fireplace crackled and Hermione's head turned quickly, her eyes expecting to find more than just flames. Every little sound or movement grabbed her attention in the hope that Snape would appear.
She stopped for a moment staring at the fire. Taking in a deep breath, she gently wrapped her arms around her torso and reminisced on recent events. Overall, it had been a trying, but rewarding day.
She and Snape had walked back to the cabin as silently as they had walked from, but things had been far from the same. Warm emotions and relief flooded her body, so that she had been quite content to say nothing.
Hermione sighed and realized that she had never been one to express her feelings. She could elaborate for hours on any book subject, but she tended to shy away from intimate conversations. Hermione knew others considered her a know-it-all, and she supposed that her intelligence had always shielded her from having to expose herself. That was the major reason she could never imagine herself with someone like Ron, who tended to have little control over his emotions.
Snape, however, would not be one for deep emotional discussions, and that suited Hermione just fine. That wasn't to say she did not want to know what he felt and thought. In fact, she had never been interested in anyone's feelings more. Rather, she believed that once expressed, the matter no longer required discussion.
She sat down on the floor leaning against her bed, and Snape's dark blue book caught her attention. She glided her fingers across its soft leathery cover, and her mind drifted.
After they had returned to the lab, the rest of the day had progressed very slowly. Snape barely spoke and never looked at her. It surprised Hermione how easily he could revert to his characteristically cold self. She figured years as a spy had taught him well. As for herself, she had made a valiant attempt to concentrate on the potion. It had been early enough in the brewing process that starting over wouldn't have been difficult, but she had not wanted to lose Snape's respect by making a simple mistake. Between concentrating on the potion and reveling in thoughts of their hug and talk outside, Hermione had become quiet and pensive.
An uneasy feeling drifted through her as she remembered Harry's reactions to her behavior. He had obviously misconstrued the situation, giving her sympathetic glances at what he must have believed to have been an unpleasant experience with an unpleasant professor.
His reactions made her realize that she had to be much more careful of her behavior. She knew he had recognized her emotional turmoil. How could he not have, but she doubted he suspected its true cause. Now that she and Snape had decided to continue their illicit affair, she could not give Harry reason to suspect.
She stood up, crossing her arms tightly around her, and began pacing once more. This time pondering Dobby's absence during dinner. She and Harry had formulated several creative ways to distract Dobby, but in the end, none were needed. The only person not surprised by the little elf's absence was Snape, who had confidently strode into the kitchen and prepared dinner. He had cooked a wonderful meal which had surprised Harry even more than Snape's cooking skills had surprised her when she had first witnessed them in the alternate universe. Thinking back, Hermione realized that what she had thought had been surprise had also been suspicion and distrust. Harry had been reluctant to taste the food, smelling and scanning each bite before putting it in his mouth. She smiled remembering the fearful look on his face as he ate.
After dinner, Hermione had made her excuses and left for her bedroom.
And now, she waited not so patiently for Snape to visit.
As Hermione stared blankly at the fire, the yellow and orange flames suddenly began to glow a bright green and Snape's head called out impassively, "Miss Granger. May I come over?"
She knew his carefully chosen words also meant to ask if she were alone.
Her arms fell down to her sides, as she tried to relax and replied, "Yes. Of course."
In an instant, the flames shot up high, and dark soot puffed out, as Snape's tall figure hunched over to step through.
He had removed his outer robes and was now only wearing a white button down shirt and black slacks. At first he did not look at her, but rather began methodically brushing the soot from his shirt. After spending more time on the task than Hermione thought necessary, he crossed his arms and stared searchingly at her. If he normally appeared rigid and stiff, he was even more so now. Hermione noticed that, though somewhat shuttered, his face bore a distinctly uncomfortable expression.
She moved back, settling on her bed next to Crookshanks and turned her attention to his soft fur, still aware of Snape as he continued to watch her.
"Is your door locked?" He asked in a cold, harsh voice that would have bit at her frayed nerves had Hermione not felt that he was acting more from his discomfort with the situation than from his feelings for her.
"Locked and warded." She looked back up at him nonchalantly.
Snape's eyes moved away from Hermione and traveled about the room scanning.
He appeared unimpressed with her security measures, and he moved about the room inspecting the wards. She watched him direct his wand at the walls and door, casting more than a few spells, including several Locking Charms and a Privacy Spell.
Hermione rolled her eyes at his excessive precautions and suspected he was stalling. She had never seen Snape so far from his comfort level.
She watched as he stood facing the wall, running his hand over the plaster. His movements though forced and stiff were quite distracting.
As he moved about the room, Hermione began to wonder how many true relationships he had experienced. Hogwarts did not seem to be an environment that would easily foster romantic relationships, considering the only female teacher near his age was Professor Trelawney, and she certainly did not seem his type. The image of Trelawney fawning over him, while she forced him to listen to her ridiculous premonitions flashed through Hermione's mind.
She shook the absurd thought away and decided it was time to take the conversation where she knew it would end up. She called out, "What did you mean before about complications?"
Hermione watched as Snape's rigid body tensed even more as his body froze, his hand still against the wall.
"Hermione.." he trailed off as if trying to decide how to best verbalize his thoughts.
After a moment too long, Hermione replied, "Yes, Severus?" She felt the strangeness of his name after so many years of calling him Professor, and a smile appeared on her face.
He glanced back at her and turned toward the bed. As he moved closer to her, he focused a menacing glare on her cat.
Crookshanks leapt off, scurrying into the bathroom, and Snape sat down.
Hermione smiled warmly up at him, though a small tingle of nervousness ran through her body. Her smile seemed to be the incentive he needed. He leaned over and kissed her, rather stiffly at first, but quickly softened as his shoulders relaxed. She felt his hands slide down to her thighs, as he deepened their kiss. A burnt smoky odor covered his familiar scent, and soot fell from his hair tickling her nose.
Gradually they parted, and a wide grin covered her face.
"The fireplace seems dirtier than normal," she remarked, as she wiped some of the dust off his nose and cheek.
The edges of Snape's mouth turned upward slightly.
She looked down at her lap and touched his fingers lightly with her own as she coaxed, "So, you were going to explain the complications."
He cleared his throat and began cautiously, "Well at present, the Potter boy." He quickly added, "and other obvious problems, such as you are still my student."
Hermione looked up at him strangely. His voice was neutral, but there was an air of tension in his words.
"I think you need a school for that." It was the truth, but not something she should have said at the moment, as Snape glared at her.
Taking the hint she asked in a more serious tone, "What will happen if," she corrected herself, "when we go back to Hogwarts?"
He breathed out a sigh that seemed to carry with it much of his anxiety, "As I said, I have no intention of ending this. We will need to be discrete, but I'm sure some arrangement can be made." He paused, shaking his head slightly, "The problems arise more from who I am than from anything to do with you. Unless something significant changes, we won't ever be able to have a relationship openly."
Hermione understood the meaning behind his words and his reasons for warning her, yet they meant little to her. She felt it was precipitous to think of their relationship in terms of the future. She had only ever been in one other short relationship with Victor Krum, so she had little experience assessing her wants and needs. She was hesitant to express these thoughts though, fearing they would only emphasize her youth and naiveness.
Instead of answering him with words, she knelt, so that her face was level with his, and kissed him gently.
This he readily responded to, his posture relaxing and becoming much less formal.
Hermione smiled into his eyes, her arms hanging loosely around his neck, and she asked lightly, "So what did Dobby do yesterday that had you so furious?"
Snape's faced darkened slightly, and he spat, "He is the most incompetent creature."
His grumblings were interrupted, when she slid her left leg over, straddling his lap.
"He's been through a great deal. Give him time," she said softly, as her fingers swept a bit of stray hair from his face.
Snape looked doubtful.
"Nevertheless, I have," he paused looking down in contemplation, "spoken with him, and he will no longer be helping with dinner."
Hermione's eyes widened, "I hope your talk didn't scare him off completely." She added, "Though I suppose he'd be used to worse, having had the Malfoys as masters."
His head shot up.
"Dumbledore sent us a house-elf who used to belong to the Malfoys?"
There was a sharp edge to his voice, which Hermione chose to ignore as she casually replied, "Yes, but Harry was able to trick Lucius Malfoy into freeing Dobby." Seeing his concerned looks, she added quickly, "Dobby is very trust worthy. He tried, in his own strange way, to save Harry's life second year."
Snape's concern was not pacified by her testimony. "House-elves are known for their loyalty to their masters, even those who have been freed would never betray their former masters. It is extremely unwise to have him here."
Hermione let out a small chuckle at the absurdity of Dobby being dangerous.
She watched Snape's face darken. Before she could act, he pushed her back onto the mattress, holding her wrists in his large hands.
Snape pressed against her, pinning her down and murmured in her ear, "Do not take my warnings lightly." His voice was low and dangerous. "If you think I'm being paranoid, keep in mind who Voldemort's other spies have been. It is not unreasonable." His hair gently floated across her face as he lifted his mouth away from her ear and stared down at her.
"I still don't think Dobby is a spy," she answered, wrapping her legs around his waist.
"Perhaps not, but it's best to trust as few people as possible."
"Hmm." She considered his words as she gazed into his eyes. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes," he whispered.
She wiggled a bit underneath him, which only made him press heavier against her. He leaned down and kissed her lips. When he lifted his head, he smiled wickedly.
"You however, should definitely not trust me," and with that his head moved down to her breast allowing his teeth to tease her nipple as it stood erect under her blouse.
She responded with a throaty chuckle that turned into a yelp as he bit harder. And soon, they were passionately moving together.
~~~****~~~
Hours later, Hermione was nudged awake as Snape slid out of bed.
"Hmm, Severus?" She reached out her hand to find him.
"Shh," he whispered as he ran his fingers through her hair. "Go back to sleep."
"Where are you going?" She rolled on her side to face him and lifted herself up on her elbow.
"Back to my rooms. I can't sleep," He leaned down and kissed her sliding his hand down her cheek. "I'll see you in the morning."
Hermione let her head fall back down onto the pillow, but watched his silhouette as he dressed. As he buttoned his slacks, she studied the dark hair on his chest that was accentuated by the dim glow of the fire. She had an urge to run her fingers through the dark curls. His shirt soon floated around him, and he left it hang loose, as he bent down to slide on his shoes. She watched as his hair fell forward covering his face. Only the bridge of his nose peaked through. Without another word or glance, he quietly slipped through the fireplace, and she was alone.
Hermione rolled onto her back and closed her eyes. She could still feel his warm touches and body. Her leg slid over to where he had lain, and she smiled at the memories that rushed through her. His presence was very comforting. Even now that he had returned to his rooms, she could still smell and feel him on her worn, but satisfied body.
She sighed knowing sleep was hopeless and went to study his notes.
In the hours that followed, Hermione began to understand Snape's reasons for combining such odd and dangerous ingredients. She needed reference material to check her thoughts and reaffirm her knowledge, but it was getting late, and she had hoped to catch a few minutes alone with Snape before Harry awoke.
She hurriedly bathed and dressed, and in very little time found herself ready to leave.
She stepped out into the hallway, quietly closing her door, so as not to alert Harry. His door was still tightly shut, and she suspected that he was as yet asleep. Quickly, she made her way to Snape's rooms.
Hermione knocked on the door, and it swung open. As she entered, she found Snape in his laboratory, already busy above a cauldron.
Moving his attention away from his work, he nodded to her giving her a momentary glance that warmed her heart.
"Where is Potter?" He asked suspiciously.
She walked next to him letting her arm gently brush against his robe and paused to look down at the bubbling potion before she replied, "Still in bed I think."
"You should go back and get him. It is unwise to spend too much time noticeably alone with me," and with that, he moved to the other side of the laboratory to gather another ingredient.
This was not exactly the welcome she had hoped for, though it was not completely unexpected. She was about to leave when he turned back and said, "Wait a moment."
"Here," he directed, handing her a small satchel.
She opened it to find that it contained a silvery powder.
He grabbed her around the waist and murmured, "Tonight, I think it only fair that you should come to my rooms."
He leaned down and kissed her softly.
She looked back at the entrance to the laboratory, "What if Harry shows up?"
"He must knock first, and I don't need to let him in."
After a few more kisses, and with the knowledge that they did not have time to finish what was started, Hermione backed away and went to find Harry.
She was a little hesitant about seeing Harry after her behavior yesterday. She really wasn't sure how she had acted, she hadn't been thinking much at all, but Hermione was sure she did not wish to be questioned about it.
She knocked on his door, and after a few seconds heard a muffled, "Coming."
Harry was still in his pajamas and looked like he had been through a rough night. His hair was even more tousled than usual, and he had lines running down his face from his pillow.
"Sorry to wake you. I thought we could get an early start on the Portestas Potion." She paused backing away slightly, "If you would like to rest for a few more hours, I can come back later."
Harry shook his head and backed up allowing her to enter.
Hermione watched as he shuffled over to his nightstand and struggled to right his glasses on his nose. "It will only take me a few minutes to get ready," he said hoarsely. He opened the dresser drawer and, pulling out a sweater and a pair of jeans, plodded to the bathroom.
Hermione turned to his bed. The disorganized state of the blankets and his appearance hinted at a restless night. She hoped that nightmares had not kept him up. As she pushed the quilt aside and sat down on the edge of the bed, she heard the bathtub fill with water.
In less time than it had taken her to ready, Harry was standing by the bathroom door, dressed and cleaned and much more alert.
As he slid on his shoes, he asked, "What do we need to do today?"
"We need to combine the ashwinder eggs and mandrake juice. That's about it."
"That sounds easy. Why did you want to start so early?" Harry questioned, while opening the door.
"It is a bit more complicated than it seems."
Her statement was indeed true. The ashwinder eggs were leathery and did not readily mash into a smooth paste. Hermione let Harry work on the paste, while she focused on making sure the cauldron was simmering at the precise temperature.
This time Hermione did not mind facing Snape. She glanced up at him every so often to watch his graceful movements. His eyes were always focused on his work, and his hands moved swiftly, but meticulously, measuring and adding ingredients.
As Hermione was working, she noticed little mice scurrying in cages on the side lab station.
"What are the mice for?" Hermione inquired.
Without looking up from his cauldron, Snape replied, "Experiments."
"Why didn't you just transfigure some mice?" Harry asked.
Snape was obviously annoyed as he coldly responded, "We are trying to determine the effects of Avada Kedavra on living things. You should know that transfigured creatures take on the appearance of that animal, but lack true life."
Harry's eyes widened in shock, as he exclaimed, "Why the hell are you working with the Killing Curse?"
Snape retorted, "If there is any hope of defeating the Dark Lord, we must be able to survive the encounter."
Hermione's hand moved placatingly to Harry's arm as she calmly clarified, "He's trying to develop a potion that will be resistant to the Killing Curse."
Snape appeared much more relaxed this morning and was even handling Harry's questions with cold civility, so Hermione ventured to ask, "How do you hope to defeat Voldemort?"
Snape paused, gathering his thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice took on the dry nature of a professor giving a lecture. "The Portestas Potion can be used to increase the magical output of almost any magical object. If we apply the potion to wands, I believe that several Killing Curses directed at Voldemort will have much the same effect that his curse had when it ricocheted off Potter."
"Yes, but that didn't kill him. It only destroyed his body. He came back," Hermione argued.
"That is why I have the Spiral. I can open a dimensional portal to an incomplete universe and send Voldemort's vapors there with no hope of returning. He would be as good as dead, as far as we are concerned," his words had an arrogance to them that made Hermione reluctant to question him further.
Still, as Hermione considered his words, she decided that his plan relied far too much on timing. She pushed her worrisome thoughts to the back of her mind and glanced over at Harry who was pounding absently at the eggs.
"If you're not careful, the paste will be too milky to use," Hermione cautioned.
Harry jerked out of whatever thought he had been lost in and muttered, "Sorry, Hermione. Here." He held out the mortar which contained the gloppy mixture, "Is it still all right?"
"Yes, I think so," and she added the mush to the cauldron.
"What do we do now?" Harry asked.
In reality there really wasn't much else to do. At least nothing that could sufficiently occupy two people's time.
"Not much else for today, but I will need to keep a close eye on the mixture for the next several hours."
They both stood there looking down at the simmering potion for a few minutes until Harry broke the silence by announcing, "Christmas is tomorrow you know."
Hermione had not thought about it, but now her day was somewhat dampened by this reality. She glance up at Snape, who was ignoring their conversation.
"I'd almost forgotten," she sighed. "It certainly doesn't feel like Christmas."
Harry bumped her arm, "Maybe we could decorate the place a bit later."
Snape's voice suddenly cut through their discussion. "We hardly have time for such nonsense."
Hermione looked up at him incredulously. Considering what they had been up to lately, decorating seemed harmless enough.
"Just a tree or so wouldn't take too much time," Hermione interjected.
Snape did not answer, so Hermione continued. "We could go quickly after dinner."
"You two are not wandering around the forest by yourselves." Snape paused and added, "However, I do need to check on the wards and spell protecting the area. You may come along to find your tree, but be quick about it."
Dinner came and went with no sign of Dobby, and soon they were all standing by the door to head outside.
Though they had just eaten dinner, the sun was just beginning to rise. As they trudged through the snow, Hermione mused at how different things were from what she had expected. She had thought her time with Snape would be unbearable, but instead it was more than pleasant. The excitement she felt from this new romance dulled the melancholy she would surely have felt at being away from her family this Christmas. Their relationship also distracted her from dwelling on the attack and destruction of Hogwarts. Their work gave her hope, so that while she should have been quite a mess, she felt balanced and strong.
She searched for Snape, who, off in the distance, was examining the area.
She and Harry stopped at a small fir tree.
"Did you know that even though this tree is small, it is probably very old. Trees in the forests of Russia and Alaska grow very slowly," Hermione explained.
Harry glanced at her smiling. "How do you know so much trivial information?"
"I read about it for Herbology. Slow growing trees of the tiagra are the main ingredient for aging potions."
Harry bumped affectionately into her and chimed, "I'm glad you're back to your old self, Mione. I was getting a bit worried about you yesterday. You seemed preoccupied."
Hermione chose not to reply to his comment.
Harry didn't seem to notice, and asked, "Do you feel bad that we're destroying something that has taken so long to grow?"
She thought about the castle and how in a single night, so much destruction had occurred. "Hmm, honestly, I doubt I'll ever be able to feel empathy for a tree."
Harry chuckled his agreement, and the tree was soon being dragged behind them to the little cabin.
Snape returned sometime later, and they set up the tree in the library. He sat with a book in front of him, but Hermione noticed that his eyes were often focused on her as she floated glass bubbles from her wand to the tree. Though his face was shuttered and blank, she could sense a smile behind his eyes.
Her mind now drifted to other, smaller matters that had suddenly become important to her. Christmas was tomorrow, and she had nothing to give anyone. Remembering Harry's present had been the last thing on her mind when she had packed, and she had never even considered giving anything to Snape.
Dobby was easy enough to please. She could simply add some odd shapes and colors to a pair of socks, and he would be thrilled. Hermione could also easily transfigure one of her sweaters into a famous Weasley sweater for Harry. She thought the familiarity of such a gift would be nice in the absence of the real thing.
However, Snape was a different story. She knew he would find no amusement in a Weasley sweater, and he appeared to never want or need anything. Hermione had glimpsed his true self a few times, but he was still a mystery to her. She doubted if he would greet any present with much enthusiasm. He didn't seem very pleased with Christmas in general.
As another blue bubble popped out of her wand, she was struck with an idea. It was not the most romantic present, but it could be enjoyable; and she was fairly certain he would be appreciative, if he gave it a chance.
**Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. Your words mean so much to me!
*PowerLeca- I really appreciate all of your advice. I have similar concerns.
*Veresna Ussep, Severely Snaped, littlemandyralph, and Ibex's Lyre- Yeah! Four of my favorite authors were the first to review!! For anyone who hasn't read their stories yet, you should.
**kiwipixie- Thank you, and I think you have a point. I'm not very good at reading people either.
**Tracy, besnaped, Kylee, Shelby and Mandy- Thank you so much for your lovely words! besnaped and Shelby- You two have been so wonderful and supportive since I started writing, thank you! (ps. Tracy- It's really nice to hear that you were thinking about the story and predicting what might happen. The teddy bear thing was completely unintentional, but I can absolutely see why you would have thought that!)
**Nicolette and Beth Ann- You two are wonderful! I love your stories as well! (and Nicolette, you left us with such a cliffhanger, I've been thinking about Hermione's reaction it all week!)