Chpt21: Tenho Medo Deste Amor.
Nothing had changed.
Well, nothing would have changed, would it, it had only been one week since she had last visited.
Still. there was the same darkness, the same familiar cold, the same feeling that even though she was a stranger, she was somehow part of this world, of Snape's world.
Wystetia was perched on the mantelpiece, calmly grooming her affluent feathers as Snape approached her, his back to Hermione.
"Severus.I - I'm sorry about Thursday. I know that we hadn't exactly agreed to anything, but, well, you know." He wasn't making this any easier. was she even making any sense?
"And then - well - it's just that." her voice faded out, succumbing to the silence that surrounded them.
It had been a very Gryffindor notion for her to simply go up to him, make amends, and then for everything to be dandy between them.
// It was never going to happen. // She told herself dejectedly. And yet.
Stepping up to him, she placed an imploring hand between his shoulder blades, hoping that he might somehow react to her attempts to break the ice.
He did not respond.
Should she be glad that he did not recoil from her touch, or should she be afflicted by his impassivity?
"Severus, this isn't easy for me, I've never been-" she stopped, taking a deep breath, trying to stop her voice from shaking so fiercely.
"I don't know anything - I don't understand!"
Snape turned towards her, his beetle black eyes, glittering through the darkness. "It is a sad day, when knowledge is compared to understanding."
"That's the thing, Severus, I know that-" she paused, stepping around so that she was in front of him, "I know that I feel for you, but I don't understand it. I know that can't stand to be with you, and yet I can't bear to be away."
She looked up at him, meeting his gaze and holding it. "Do you understand that, Severus? Do you? There are times when even I don't understand it, and it's at those times I don't know what to do."
"On Thursday I was scared, I was so, so scared." She stopped, leaning her forehead into his chest as she inhaled his musky scent.
Snape peered down at her. "What were you scared of?"
Hermione thought for a moment, burying her head into his robes, insuring that her voice was well muffled as she whispered softly, "I love you, Severus Snape, I really do."
"What was that?"
She spoke clearly this time; "Nothing. I was just being stupid. There was nothing to be afraid of, and I see that now. I was just being stupid."
Taking Hermione's hand, Snape led her towards the couch, indicating for her to sit down, before stiffly taking a place beside her.
Trying to sound conversational, he began, "So what did you do on Thursday?"
// I huddled in the tunnel under Honeydukes and cried myself dry, cried until my eyes were raw, then I ran back to my dorm in Gryffindor tower and cried some more. //
"Nothing much. it was.odd.being away from you. I had a lot of thinking to do."
Reading between the lines, Snape looked at her, surprise in his eyes.
Did she actually care for him?
"And you? Did you do anything interesting?"
"No. I walked through Hogsmeade for a few hours, saw the sights. I found nothing - nothing of interest."
Hermione winced, double entendres did nothing to soften the truth. She looked at her feet, stifling a shiver of delight at the knowledge that. he had looked for her!
"Cold? Forgive me, one gets used to the chill after living in it for so long." Lighting the fire, he shrugged out of his cloak and draped it over her shoulders.
Hermione smiled. "You're something special, you know that, Severus Snape?" "And you, Heather, are one in a million."
Had Hermione been sitting anywhere near a mirror, she would have been mortally ashamed at the goofy love-struck grin that had spread itself over her face. Thankfully, however, there wasn't a mirror in sight.
~*~*~*~ As the day drew on, Hermione remained in Snape's quarters, and delighted in conversing with him. The subject matter was endless for he seemed to share in her eager thirst for knowledge, and, of course, the understanding of how to use it. Eventually, however, as she had albeit unconsciously promised herself, she had to leave.
"So soon?" Snape asked, unwilling to end what had been a most enthusiastic debate on the Ministry of Magic's latest scheme for magical beasts.
Hermione nodded. It was two o'clock, which meant that in order to see if her potion would indeed end at her command, she would need to leave early.
Early being now.
"I have a lot of work to complete for Monday before the holiday begins."
Snape assented glumly, knowing how irritating end-of-term deadlines could be. Indeed, he still had a lot of assignments to mark, and then, of course, there was the Ball. The Ball!
"I take it, then that you are free on Tuesday?"
Tuesday. Christmas Eve. What on earth was he up to, Hermione wondered before shyly agreeing.
"Good." He paused to think, "Perhaps, then, you would care to join me for a Yuletide celebration? Nothing special, of course, but."
Hermione could have jumped for joy, and quickly silenced him, "Severus, I could think of nothing better than to spend Christmas Eve here." "Really? I mean - um - good. About eight o'clock, then?"
She agreed, "On the dot."
Once the agreement was in place, though, there was nothing else left to do but to say her farewells as he guided her to the door.
She looked at him.
This morning, she had felt as though the world's weight had been on her shoulders, but now. now she felt on top of the world, and there couldn't possibly anything that could bring her down.
Leaning into his arms, she offered him a gentle kiss, letting him bend down to meet her in silent assent as her heart soared above on angels' wings.
Weaving his fingers through her hair, Snape deepened the kiss, pulling her to him as she flew higher into the sky.
She did not want to let go, and neither did he.
But, no, she had come here to talk, and the world seemed all the finer because he was in it, and because now she knew. She knew, and she'd be damned if she ever forgot it.
Whispering goodbye, she opened the door and slipped out of the room, counting the hours until their next meeting.
Nothing had changed.
Well, nothing would have changed, would it, it had only been one week since she had last visited.
Still. there was the same darkness, the same familiar cold, the same feeling that even though she was a stranger, she was somehow part of this world, of Snape's world.
Wystetia was perched on the mantelpiece, calmly grooming her affluent feathers as Snape approached her, his back to Hermione.
"Severus.I - I'm sorry about Thursday. I know that we hadn't exactly agreed to anything, but, well, you know." He wasn't making this any easier. was she even making any sense?
"And then - well - it's just that." her voice faded out, succumbing to the silence that surrounded them.
It had been a very Gryffindor notion for her to simply go up to him, make amends, and then for everything to be dandy between them.
// It was never going to happen. // She told herself dejectedly. And yet.
Stepping up to him, she placed an imploring hand between his shoulder blades, hoping that he might somehow react to her attempts to break the ice.
He did not respond.
Should she be glad that he did not recoil from her touch, or should she be afflicted by his impassivity?
"Severus, this isn't easy for me, I've never been-" she stopped, taking a deep breath, trying to stop her voice from shaking so fiercely.
"I don't know anything - I don't understand!"
Snape turned towards her, his beetle black eyes, glittering through the darkness. "It is a sad day, when knowledge is compared to understanding."
"That's the thing, Severus, I know that-" she paused, stepping around so that she was in front of him, "I know that I feel for you, but I don't understand it. I know that can't stand to be with you, and yet I can't bear to be away."
She looked up at him, meeting his gaze and holding it. "Do you understand that, Severus? Do you? There are times when even I don't understand it, and it's at those times I don't know what to do."
"On Thursday I was scared, I was so, so scared." She stopped, leaning her forehead into his chest as she inhaled his musky scent.
Snape peered down at her. "What were you scared of?"
Hermione thought for a moment, burying her head into his robes, insuring that her voice was well muffled as she whispered softly, "I love you, Severus Snape, I really do."
"What was that?"
She spoke clearly this time; "Nothing. I was just being stupid. There was nothing to be afraid of, and I see that now. I was just being stupid."
Taking Hermione's hand, Snape led her towards the couch, indicating for her to sit down, before stiffly taking a place beside her.
Trying to sound conversational, he began, "So what did you do on Thursday?"
// I huddled in the tunnel under Honeydukes and cried myself dry, cried until my eyes were raw, then I ran back to my dorm in Gryffindor tower and cried some more. //
"Nothing much. it was.odd.being away from you. I had a lot of thinking to do."
Reading between the lines, Snape looked at her, surprise in his eyes.
Did she actually care for him?
"And you? Did you do anything interesting?"
"No. I walked through Hogsmeade for a few hours, saw the sights. I found nothing - nothing of interest."
Hermione winced, double entendres did nothing to soften the truth. She looked at her feet, stifling a shiver of delight at the knowledge that. he had looked for her!
"Cold? Forgive me, one gets used to the chill after living in it for so long." Lighting the fire, he shrugged out of his cloak and draped it over her shoulders.
Hermione smiled. "You're something special, you know that, Severus Snape?" "And you, Heather, are one in a million."
Had Hermione been sitting anywhere near a mirror, she would have been mortally ashamed at the goofy love-struck grin that had spread itself over her face. Thankfully, however, there wasn't a mirror in sight.
~*~*~*~ As the day drew on, Hermione remained in Snape's quarters, and delighted in conversing with him. The subject matter was endless for he seemed to share in her eager thirst for knowledge, and, of course, the understanding of how to use it. Eventually, however, as she had albeit unconsciously promised herself, she had to leave.
"So soon?" Snape asked, unwilling to end what had been a most enthusiastic debate on the Ministry of Magic's latest scheme for magical beasts.
Hermione nodded. It was two o'clock, which meant that in order to see if her potion would indeed end at her command, she would need to leave early.
Early being now.
"I have a lot of work to complete for Monday before the holiday begins."
Snape assented glumly, knowing how irritating end-of-term deadlines could be. Indeed, he still had a lot of assignments to mark, and then, of course, there was the Ball. The Ball!
"I take it, then that you are free on Tuesday?"
Tuesday. Christmas Eve. What on earth was he up to, Hermione wondered before shyly agreeing.
"Good." He paused to think, "Perhaps, then, you would care to join me for a Yuletide celebration? Nothing special, of course, but."
Hermione could have jumped for joy, and quickly silenced him, "Severus, I could think of nothing better than to spend Christmas Eve here." "Really? I mean - um - good. About eight o'clock, then?"
She agreed, "On the dot."
Once the agreement was in place, though, there was nothing else left to do but to say her farewells as he guided her to the door.
She looked at him.
This morning, she had felt as though the world's weight had been on her shoulders, but now. now she felt on top of the world, and there couldn't possibly anything that could bring her down.
Leaning into his arms, she offered him a gentle kiss, letting him bend down to meet her in silent assent as her heart soared above on angels' wings.
Weaving his fingers through her hair, Snape deepened the kiss, pulling her to him as she flew higher into the sky.
She did not want to let go, and neither did he.
But, no, she had come here to talk, and the world seemed all the finer because he was in it, and because now she knew. She knew, and she'd be damned if she ever forgot it.
Whispering goodbye, she opened the door and slipped out of the room, counting the hours until their next meeting.