9. [ Snivellus ]
Potions classes were delightfully uneventful. Closing his eyes and trying to forget the feeling of Hermione's embrace he leaned back in the comfortable arm chair. He had to admit it was nice actually living in a room that felt comfortable and the warmth from the chimney fire was warming his weary bones. Hermione and he had settled back into their old behaviours almost instantly and she had constantly raised her hand and he had even once taken points from her for preventing Neville's cauldron from going up in flames. The astonishment and shock in her face clearly indicated that she hadn't expected this. But what was unexpected had been the sudden constricting of his heart when she had looked angry for a second.
Sighing he tried to ban the picture of his cursing Gryffindor wife from his mind and smiled slightly when he remembered the way she had tried to shot daggers at him with her eyes the rest of the double classes. He had to tell her that he was indeed the master of intimidation and to try to make him flinch in fear was almost futile.
Also there had been a time when he was more easily scared.
The grin was wiped off his face all in a sudden and he angrily run his hand through his black hair in a vain attempt to stop the thoughts from even forming but as usual with no attempt. Maybe if Hermione would have been here she would have been able to provide relief from the pictures but in response to his behaviour in potions she was still in the Gryffindor common room.
Staring at the ceiling he tried to empty his mind but still he could hear Sirius' voice like he was there at the bank next to the lake at that fateful afternoon after his Defence against the Dark Arts O.W.L.s. He could feel the warm sun rays on his back sitting on the cosy grass his head as always buried into a parchment this time not noticing anything around him.
He remembered how he had gotten up and noticing his four enemies next to the water had anticipated an attack. He could recall clearly when James Potter's disarming spell had hit him and his wand had flown several feet away. And then he had heard the thing that usually made his blood rise in his head until today, Black's laughter deafening any other sound around him. The binding spell had hit and he had been trapped on the sticky grass mentally boiling with rage.
He flinched remembering the painful memory of himself loosing most of his dignity that afternoon for good when James made him hang upside down in the air with his robe falling down his body exposing his legs and underpants. It had been humiliating and in this moment he had been ready to use an unforgivable on Black or Potter. But it was Lilly Evans who had saved him and he had detested her for it. He had been too weak again and the muggle born witch had to literally get Potter to do the counter curse.
His own voice had spoken of these feeling when he had called her a filthy mudblood, something he had never done before and never done after this ever again. In this moment all his helplessness had surfaced and years of being hexed by his father had culminated in this angry mutter. Strangely enough the events after that never felt as painful as the moment Lily's eyes had turned cold. And Potter had removed his pants and had no doubt amused the school crowd that gathered around them immensely. When he had been finished with him they had left his humiliated form on the grass still sputtering soap bubbles till late in the evening. Well he had to be grateful for one thing so, this afternoon in the all in a sudden chilly evening air with the lake in sight he had gotten the courage together to plan his father's killing.
Trying to squelch the sound of Black's malicious laughter and James Potter's taunting he got up and leaned against the window frame. Closing his eyes he used the technique he had learned in his occlumency lessons and cleared his mind. Exhaling noisily he watched the faked garden outside with the fake trees swaying in the fake later summer breeze. Everything in his life was fake really, including himself. The person he had created after that killing curse had left his mouth was a pitiful creature only existing on hate, cruelty and envy. Negative emotions had shaped his life and the path he had chosen so many years ago had proven fatally wrong. Nothing ever made sense again after that evening on the edge of the lake.
Lilly had never spoken to him again after that and the feeling of loss he had endured for a while had been almost overwhelming in its intensity. He had never had any friends, certainly not in Slytherin where the others only accepted him in their group because he was from a pureblood rich family and knew how to cast the most curses. The whole school had disliked him because he had hung around with Lucius and his pack and no girl ever looked his way with his long greasy hair and hooked nose. Lilly Evans had been the first to look behind his outward appearance and for a moment he had believed in the dream that love would save him. How fatally wrong he had been.
The sound of the opening door raised him from his thoughts and reluctantly he turned around to see his wife stepping into the room. Her smile looked uncertain, she clearly wasn't sure where they stood after the incident in potions class. For a moment he wanted to make her suffer for he best friend's father and all that he had done to his life.
Don't shut away the first person that actually took an interest in you after all these years just because she is in the same house and knows Potter's son.
Forcing his face into a schooled neutral expression he motioned for her to sit down next to the chimney.
Watching her small frame he noticed that she seemed upset about something.
"Did you have a nice evening?" He staid at the window deliberately not facing her afraid he wouldn't be able to ban the feeling of hatred from his features and she would think it was directed at her. He wasn't ready to tell her about his school days maybe he would never be.
She began to nod but then shook her head so vehemently that the dark curls flew in every direction. The light cast beautiful reflexes into the shimmering brown and he itched to run his fingers through it. Instead he stepped to the fireplace and added some more wood.
"Do you want to talk about it?" His voice was impassive and tried to neither imply that she should nor that she had to. It was a possibility that was all.
After a while she mumbled a name that sounded distinctively like Ron. The usual sneer appeared on his face and he turned around.
"What did young Mr Weasly do?"
"He doesn't want to accept the way things have turned out to be and he says nasty things."
"About who?"
She looked up stormy eyes hazel eyes meeting his, filled with pain.
"About you."
Snape laughed bitterly. "What's new about that?"
The pain seemed to intensify and she averted her eyes quickly. "Nothing. Only now it seems every time he says something I feel like it's entirely my fault."
Stunned he watched her raise her face again and tears had appeared in the corners of her eyes.
"Because there was a time when I just accepted the fact that my friends had a certain opinion of you and instead of being courageous and telling them to stop I went along. I was a damn coward and now they are questioning why I am interfering."
Slowly he approached her and kneeled down in front of her gripping her trembling hands in his own.
"Hermione, look at me please." As she did he inhaled as he saw the raw pain in them. "It's okay, whatever you once did or thought. I can forgive it all and you want to know why?" A hesitant nod later he continued ruefully. "Because even if we added all your sins up you never would win against me the greatest sinner of all. My love, please don't cry."
She sobbed and threw herself into his arms almost knocking him over with her momentum. He closed his arms around her trembling body cradling her to his larger frame. He sank to the floor and gently caressed her back all the while wondering if he was doing the right thing. It felt so alien to his character to console somebody over something. The endearment had slipped without him realizing at the time and he didn't have it in him to regret it. He felt more for her than he had ever felt for another living creature and he wouldn't let her slip away from him now.
Placing soft kisses on her velvety hair he inhaled the faint scent of vanilla emanating from it. Feeling like for the first time ever he could forget the mortifying moments under the tree at the lake.
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Some time later when the safe feeling of protection and forgiveness had warmed her whole being Hermione was ready to turn her face so that she was looking in two deep opal depth. He appeared centred and serious but behind the attempt of showing her exactly the emotion he wanted her to see she could see a strain that had been there since last night. A pang in her heart reminded her that he had been clearly in so much pain and distress last night and again he was the one to comfort her over trivial issues like Ron's bitter remarks.
She moved slightly so that she fitted more comfortably into his arms and leaned with her side against his chest. His scent was almost intoxicating and she wondered shortly whether that was normal or something like a fetish already. Whenever she got close to him she had to inhale and revel in the mystery that was his scent. Smiling she nuzzled his robes again and tried to form a sentence that would get him to tell her what was wrong with him without appearing like she was noisy.
"Can I ask you a question?"
She felt his muscles flex and unflex as he moved to hold her more gently and then he softly chuckled.
"Of course."
"Last night when you crashed that mirror I couldn't fail to see that you looked very upset about something." She raised her eyes and bored them into his. "Was it about me? Because I was out after curfew?"
He sighed and shook his head shortly never loosing contact to her eyes. In this moment he felt like they were the only things capable on centring him in this world. What to tell her without having to admit he was a murderer, that he once had muttered the killing curse against his own family?
"It wasn't about you Hermione. I already knew you would be out, Albus told me after you left." Stalling her questions for now he continued hesitantly. "It was just memories my dear. My life has not been a constant joy and some of these things haunt me till today."
"But you can't tell me right now?"
"No, these things have been buried so long inside me Hermione that I need some more time to get comfortable with the thought of sharing them with anybody. Is that okay?"
She nodded quickly and then gently touched his cheek with her small hand. To his utter surprise he moved into the touch like a wounded animal that never has experienced tenderness in his life so far. How he had longed for a gentle touch, somebody who would make him believe that he was worth more than being put under curses, to be more than a boy who cowered under a stairway trembling with fear waiting for his father to be finished with beating mother black and blue and continuing with him, the pale, ugly bastard. More than the wizard who had muttered the curse on that fateful night bathing his parents' bedroom in green light.
Seeing the pain in his eyes Hermione had to bite back tears of her own and swore she would find out who had hurt him so much. But right now something else was on her mind. Remembering what he had told her about Professor Dumbledore knowing about her being out after curfew.
"Professor Dumbledore knew I was out?"
Warning lights went on in his head, he couldn't' tell her about the prophecy just yet. Albus had made this absolutely clear in London. He was to guide her and assist her as much as he could but in no way was he to mention the prophecy. Sighing, he gently moved so that she sank back against his body again.
"Yes but I don't know how he knew it Hermione." May the gods forgive for this lie and hopefully I don't regret it later. "He told me to wait for you and as usual I didn't rise to the occasion. Instead I sank into self-pity when you probably needed me most. I can only tell you again how sorry I am to be as weak as I am."
She hushed him with trembling fingers. "You are never weak Severus. You are always the steady rock on which I can right my world when it has gotten askew somehow. I said it before: I don't care who told you all this rubbish but I don't share your low opinion of yourself. I would have gotten crazy without you in all this mess and you are nothing but the strongest man I ever had the pleasure to know."
Smiling ruefully and admitting to himself that she very likely would disagree if she knew half of what he had done he cupped her chin. Not with force but gently.
"So will you tell me what you saw?"
Her face lit up and she turned between his legs on the red carpet so that she was kneeling in front of him.
"Oh, I totally forgot to tell you and you probably won't believe me but I met a ghost in a chamber." She gripped his hands and gently caressed them without realizing what she did. She had been burning to tell somebody about her meeting with one of the founders but something inside had told her not to tell her friends. It was odd how little she questioned her instincts lately. "It was a large empty room with a huge stone throne and there were columns with very ancient runes. I have never seen most of them. And then the ghost appeared and he was actually very nice and made me guess who he was. A riddle and like the potions riddle I solved it at last."
"The potions riddle? What potions riddle?" His forehead crinkled.
"Oh, the riddle with which you guarded the Philosophers Stone in my first year. You know about the seven potions and to decide which one was the one to get you through the flames."
He gazed at her in astonishment. "And you solved it?"
"Yes. It took a couple minutes but in the end it was pure logic. Did you come up with it all on your own?"
He sounded a tad cranky. "Yes and it took me several hours to create the riddle."
Smiling brightly she didn't bother to acknowledge his crankiness. "And I was wondering which wizard had bothered to use logic to hide the Stone but of course it would have been you. You are one of the most extraordinary wizards I have ever met."
Feeling a blush somewhere on his face he tried to change the subject. Nobody had made him blush in years.
"Yes well I like logic once in a while. But what about the ghost. Who was it?"
"Salazar Slytherin."
"What?" Severus stared at her in amazement. "One of the founders?"
"Yes even so he said he was just a memory. He promised to answer me some questions tonight."
Having a quick look at the clock he saw it was almost midnight. "Maybe you should go now then. Last night you stepped into the chamber around midnight as well."
"How do you know?"
"I had a dream. I awoke with a feeling that something had happened." He pushed her away from him but she clung to him.
"I won't go there alone."
"Hermione you have to." He sounded desperate.
"There is something you are not telling me, right?" Suspicion crept into her voice.
"Hermione, please just go into that chamber for once without asking any questions. Maybe I can tell you more tomorrow but right now it is of importance that you go there immediately."
Getting up reluctantly she looked him in the eyes trying to make him see that she was serious.
"Okay, but I want an explanation tomorrow Severus. I ask him if you can come along. If he agrees you come with me tomorrow. This is about your house more than mine so you can talk to him as well."
Nodding in relief he gently led her to the door carefully placing a hand on her shoulder.
"I wait for your return and if something happens I am sure the necklace will make sure that I know."
She turned around one last time and then pulled his head down. Carefully and tenderly she brushed her lips against his cheek. Then she turned around and disappeared in the dark corridor.