Stolen Child
Chapter 17
Nothing Prepared Me For Your Smile
Bit by bit the young woman in Professor Snape's arms began to relax, and the urgency of her sorrow began to fade. He could feel her skin beneath her night robes, and it was becoming cool from the chill of the classroom, and he could see his own breath condensing in front of him; but it was Hermione who finally pulled away, her eyes red and swollen, though her face was dry.
Briefly she met his eyes before looking away and sitting back from him, color rising to her cheeks.
Snape rose from his kneeling position, his knees protesting painfully. After a moment of debate he offered his hand to her, and was thankful when she grasped it tightly, and hoisted her deftly to her feet, which put her just a few inches from his body.
There were several awkward and silent moments, Professor Snape's expression stony as ever, though his eyes now clearly betrayed him; and Hermione staring at a spot on the floor. Finally he spoke, his voice softer than she could have thought possible.
"I believe it may be safe for you to return to your room, Ms. Granger. Of course, I will have to confirm this before you may go. Please excuse me." He waited for her to move to the side, retrieved his wand from a nearby desk, removed the wards, and unlocked the door. "I will only be a moment." Cautiously he stepped out into the dark hallway, closing and warding the door behind him. "Lumos" The end of his wand lit up like a flashlight and he slowly made his way towards her room. Snape found her door wide open, a newly lit fire crackling in her fireplace, and the pale light of dawn filling her room; could the sun be rising already? Slowly he crept across the room towards her windows. Gazing out across the grounds blanketed in a thick gray fog, he saw nothing. He narrowed his eyes and looked to the forbidden forest, and again saw nothing. Deciding that it would be much better to be safe than sorry he cast wards upon the windows, and then turned to leave.
*~~*~~*
The moment Snape left the room, Hermione clamped her hand over her mouth in shocked, amazement, and disbelief. He had held her, comforted her, and it was obvious that he did no disgust her. Grinning she straitened her robes and leaned against a nearby table waiting for him to return, closing her eyes, her hand over her heart. He didn't disgust her, he had seen her on her knees being treated and acting like a pathetic, obedient spaniel. Emotion washed over her and she bit her lip to keep from sobbing. Relief, happiness, desire, both emotional and physical, all mixed with a lingering fear spawned by knowledge that the source of her disgust and self loathing was now hunting for her. Suddenly she was pulled from her thoughts by the door knob clicking as it turned.
Slowly the door opened and he stepped in, and was immediately struck by the waves of intense emotions emanating from her. It took a moment for him react and step aside, holding the door open for her. "It's safe, Ms. Granger. I warded your windows just in case, though."
Nodding, she offered him a warm smile, though her eyes were filled with dark clouds of whirling emotions, and stepped out into the hallway. Snape shut the door behind them, his wand still putting off a brilliant light. They made their way together down the hallway, and Hermione found her rather busy mind slowly narrowing the flurry in her thoughts to the night before last when she had kissed him on the cheek. Her hands quickly became clammy and her body became even colder than before. Should she kiss him again? Would he kiss her? Suddenly her heart was pounding fiercely against her ribs like a caged animal rattling the bars of its cage, she couldn't remember ever being properly kissed; the Faey had considered a human's mouth unfit to touch with their own. Automatically she stepped into her room when they came to it and turned towards Snape, her mouth going dry.
Standing across from her, Professor Snape's body and mind mirrored hers surprisingly well, and he felt as though he was standing on a precipice, debating on whether or not to dive into the blackness which could either hold his doom or ecstasy. In his minds eye he stood a bit taller, spread his arms wide, bent his knees, and then gracefully plunged into the abyss. Physically he stepped towards her, bent slightly at the waist, placed both hands gently on either side of her face and lowered his head, brushing his lips across her forehead, just below her hairline. He lingered for a moment taking in her wonderful scent, and then pulled away.
It felt as though some creature made of ice had run its fingers up her spine and belly, and Hermione's breath caught her in her throat as he kissed her. His lips warm upon her skin, setting a fire that spread rapidly down through her body. Deeply rooted bitter sweet passion sprout up from within her, and unable to stop herself as he pulled away, she leaned forward, resting her head upon his chest, her eyes tightly shut.
Completely beyond shock, Severus gently wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, one hand resting upon the back of her head, lost in the texture of her hair beneath his fingers.
Her head pressed against his chest, she could clearly here the pounding of his heart, his chest warm against her cheek. Suddenly the intimacy of the moment struck her so hard, that she couldn't help but pull away. Cheeks flushing red, she swallowed hard, and smiled despite the lump of nervous energy bouncing about in her belly.
Snape felt something stir within him, rousing emotions he thought long dead. Her smile, filled with so much emotion, emotions that he could feel standing two feet away, her excitement, fear, curiosity all mixing together into some unnamable feeling, a feeling that was so grand that there was no room for the disgust and loathing that everyone else directed at him. Her smile filled him with warmth and he shivered, feeling the last bit of cold bitterness melt from his heart. It started out as a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth, but it grew a bit wider, and he smiled warmly, and perhaps even fondly down at the suddenly beautiful woman before him. She was no longer a know it all little girl with bushy hair, she was a woman, a person. Still wearing his newly acquired smile he gathered his thoughts and drew himself back together, knowing that as much as he wished otherwise, the night had to end somewhere. "Good night, Ms. Granger." Clasping his hands behind his back, his smile fading into a simple grin, he then turned away, heading back towards his quarters, bare feet silent on the floor of the hallway.
Completely at a loss for words, Hermione slowly closed the door as he faded from view, her heart pounding in her ears. Leaning up against the door, clutching her robes, Hermione cried once again, the only way she knew how to express both the terrible and wonderful emotions within her.
*~~*~~*
Snape lay between his covers, staring up at the ceiling, a content smile playing across his face. His heart felt full to bursting, and every bit of his body felt more alive than it had in ages, every bit of him tingling and filled with a glorious warmth, but it was all tainted by his ever present doubts. What he lost her, like everything else of any good that had ever graced his unusually dark life? She was being hunted and expected him to basically put her down if all hope was ever lost, could he? Would he? What if they captured her and he was unable to save her either alive or dead? What then? And if she was saved alive, what would she think of him once her memories returned? It was a very long time before Snape finally drifted off, but thankfully for the first time in years, his dreams weren't filled with images of the wasted form of Dumbledore; instead they were haunted by the memory of Hermione's warm body wrapped in his arms, and the smell of lavender which lingered in her hair.
*~~~~~*~~~~~~*
Drowsily Hermione opened her eyes, immediately blinded by the intense sunlight streaming in through her windows. Slowly she rolled over, her mind taking a few moments to catch up to her waking body. The previous night seems to drift upwards out of the pool of her memories before jolting her suddenly awake. Had it been honestly real or some cruel, bitter sweet dream? If it was real, what would happen today? Experimentally she pulled the front of her night robes up to her nose and inhaled. The smelled distinctly of cinnamon, lavender, and many other spicy scents; there was no longer any doubt that the previous night had been real, so then the real questions began to surface. Things had been moving so quickly, would they continue that way? How would he react to her if he saw her today? Hermione was violently yanks from her thoughts by a knock at her door. With an annoyed sigh she slid out from beneath her covers and went to the door stiffly, feeling as though she had run a hundred miles the night before, not caring in the least that her hair was standing on end and she was still clothed in her night robes. Upon opening her door she found the smiling face of Minerva McGonagall standing before her and it took an incredible amount of internal strength to keep from groaning irritably. "Good morning, Minerva." As it was her voice clearly lacked any amount of enthusiasm.
"Good Afternoon, Hermione, I apologize for waking you." She smiled, one of her thin graying eyebrows cocked.
Hermione answered with forced laugh that sounded more like a grunt than anything.
"I thought you ought to know that you will have a visitor in probably.." She thought for a few moments before speaking again, "Within the hour. Molly Weasley owled me this morning telling me that she'd be flooing in from the burrow. Would it be alright if I directed her to your room, or will you be out?"
It took a bit longer for her words to process than normal, and when Hermione's mind finally came to a conclusion she nodded, her impatience mounting. Why did the day have to begin like this? Why couldn't she spend her day perhaps grinding some more herbs with Professor Snape, or even sitting in her room reading?
With a sigh, Minerva pursed her lips, exasperation showing clearly on her aging face. "Good day, Hermione." She turned on her heels and briskly made her way down the corridor towards the stairs leading up to the great hall.
Sluggishly Hermione shut the door and began to grumpily make her bed. Her hair gave her an unusual amount of trouble, and once all of the tangles had been worked out, it all stood on end in a frizzy mess as though she had stuck her finger in a light socket. Roughly she pulled it back into a small bun, and then wrestled her robes on. Taking a quick glance in the mirror she was startled by just how awful she looked, her eyes still swollen and red, her nose as well. It look as though she had a horrible cold. Sighing she went to her sink and splashed her face with cold water, drying it on a thick towel before heading back into her room to curl up in her arm chair with Moste Potente Potions once again, trying desperately not to dwell to long on the events of the night before. Though not in the least unpleasant over all, they still caused a great swell of confusing emotions which made her eyes begin to water once again..
Halfway through the next chapter she was interrupted by a quite knocking on her door. She bit her lip to keep back an explicative went to her door, forced a gracious smile and opened it to find a thin, frail, pinched looking woman in heavily patch robes smiling warmly.
"Hermione? Is that really you, dear?" Her voice was just as frail as her appearance, but her smile was enough to make even the coldest heart thaw.
Hermione nodded. "Yes, I'm Hermione. You're Molly Weasley?"
Without warning Mrs. Weasley stepped forward and pulled the younger woman to her in a surprisingly tight embrace. "Oh Hermione! It's so wonderful to have you back! We were all so afraid! Most just gave up hope, but I KNEW you'd come home." She held her at arms length, grinning broadly.
Tensing up at the suddenness of the unfamiliar woman's actions, Hermione patted her on the back awkwardly and chose to simply remain silent, having no idea what to say. It was even worse when the woman held her out as if inspecting her. She looked away, afraid that perhaps this woman could pierce through her mind and delve into her raw emotions the way so many others seemed to.
Finally the Mrs. Weasley stepped back and pulled her arms away, beaming, tears brimming in her eyes. Hermione forced another smile, though she felt like a deer being highbeams, and then stepped away from the door to allow her to enter. "Please come in, it's chilly out in that hallway."
Mrs. Weasley limped into the room, which startled Hermione, and looked around obviously impressed, and pleased.
Hermione took a seat in one of her overstuffed arm chairs and motioned the older woman to the one across from her, attempting to play the gracious hostess, though already her mind was wandering around in memories of Snape.
Easing herself down into the offered seat, Mrs. Weasley folding her hands in her lap, grinning broadly, "So.. I see Minerva has been treating you well, despite the fact that the silly woman put you down in the dungeons like some sort of Slytherin. It's common knowledge that they enjoy places like this, but a Griffindor such as yourself needs plenty of sun shine, am I right?" Her voice had suddenly gained a strange, perhaps bitter quality to it and she glanced in the direction of Snape's classroom and quarters. "But the windows to help it along a bit, don't they?"
Confused for a moment by the sudden change in the woman's voice, Hermione faltered for a moment before responding. "I-It's nice.I don't mind the dungeons at all." 'Mostly because of the occupant three doors away', she added mentally, her stomach doing flips when she lingered on him a bit too long.
"Well yes, I suppose it could be alright if someone were to." She coughed and glanced in the direction of Snape's room once more, "Clean it out a little bit. Merlin knows what sort of disgusting creatures live down here."
Hermione could barely keep the anger and confusion building within her chest from showing on her face. 'Clean it out a little bit"? "Disgusting creatures"? It was obvious what she meant but why on earth would she say such a thing, and how could someone be so sweet and warm one moment and malicious the next? It was obvious that no one really cared for Professor Snape, but up until that point she had never heard anyone be so open about it. Her cheeks turn a bit pinker, no matter what her reasons for being angry, surly they weren't important enough to speak of him in such a way. "Ah well, if I find anything dangerous, Professor Snape is just a few doors down, he's been quite kind to me." The look upon Mrs. Weasley's face nearly made her laugh out loud.
"Ah. well. yes, of course." The blush on her cheeks made Hermione's look pale and sickly by comparison. "Anyways, so tell me dear, how have you been?"
They spent the better part of two hours in awkward conversation never straying past mundane subjects such as the weather, the possibility of Hermione returning to school, and Mrs. Weasley's hopes that Ron, Ginny, and Harry would be home for Christmas, even if they didn't receive the letters in time. It was possibly one of the toughest challenges Hermione had ever face out of what she could remember. Her heart was screaming at a thousand different levels with almost every emotion a human could experience, but her mind was reining it in, and telling her to focus on the task at hand, which seemed to be completely impossible. Seem interested, listen, respond appropriately, it felt as though someone had asked her to wrangle a Hippogriff. It seemed like ages before the older woman finally tired of the conversation and stood gingerly, favoring one leg. "Oh dear, it's getting late, and I promised Minerva that I'd visit her before I had to go back to the burrow, but of course I will visit again soon."
Standing, Hermione followed her, feeling as though a weight had been lifted. Now finally there was the chance of seeing Professor Snape, not before she made herself presentable, though. "That will be nice." She opened the door and stepped away to allow the woman to pass.
Molly paused and gave her a brief hug, much less friendly than before, apparently she had picked up on the girls annoyance more than she was willing to let on.. "Right, well, good to have you back dear." Her smile seemed a bit forced this time around, but Hermione didn't mind in the least bit, and with her own forced smile and a little wave, she shut the door behind Mrs. Weasley and sighed in relief. Thankfully she had made no more ill remarks about Snape, but the first two had completely spoiled the conversation, and Hermione secretly wished that she wouldn't have to see Molly again any time soon.
*~~~*~~~*
Professor Snape awoke at midday, his blankets and pillow both missing, probably somewhere on the floor. All through the night he had been haunted by wonderful dreams of Hermione's cool skin beneath his fingers, her small body pressed against him, the warmth of her forehead beneath his lips. Not once had she turned into Dumbledore with his cold, unseeing eyes and thin, frail form. There had been one in particular that interested him in which he had been wandering through the forbidden forest during spring and came upon a grove of remarkable oak trees next to a lovely stream. A few feet from the stream, though, there was a young willow tree not much taller than he, it's long, whispy branches trailing In the swift water. That wasn't what drew his attention though, his eyes were drawn immediately to a pale figure standing in the water, wet and glistening in the warm afternoon light, her wavy, brown, slightly bushy hair falling down to her bare hips. She bent down, her back to him, and scooped water from the stream before standing again, trickling the handful of water over her chest, just below the nape of her neck. Apparently hearing him the figure had turned, her face was that of Hermione's. It was then that he noticed the tiny golden chair connecting her wrist to the thin little willow. Suddenly, now thinking back on it he realized how much like a Waterhouse painting it had been, the idea stirring his emotions even more.
He mulled over it for another few moments before reluctantly forcing himself to rise from bed, entire body achingly stiff. The warmth of his shower was a welcome comfort and took full advantage of it, standing below the spraying water, lazily scrubbing his body and hair for nearly three quarters of an hour. In a drowsy haze he laid out his plans for the day; it was Sunday so he had no classes, and the majority of the students had left for the holiday break earlier that morning. He could of course read.. Perhaps grade one of the waiting stacks of papers in his desk. Or he could invite Hermione to Diagon Alley. The suggestion came unbidden, but he immediately favored it. She needed a wand as soon as possible. If the Wild Hunt returned, she couldn't be defenseless, he simply wouldn't allow it. He swallowed hard at the thought of Hermione's situation, flashes of her memories popping up in rapid succession. The idea of what happened to her cause a sudden fire in the pit of his stomach, and he felt the beginnings of boiling anger an hate welling up within him. He was quick to snuff it out, however. It would do her no good to become enraged and thus blind. She needed his help, and he was more than willing to give everything he had to defend her. Laughing to himself he wondered why all of a sudden he would be so willing of offer his assistance, he never had been before. Sighing, Snape realized with a start that he'd also have to inform the headmistress about the incident the night before, the idea not pleasing him in the least. Of course he reserved the right to keep certain more sensitive parts between Hermione and himself, it was her choice as to whether or not she wanted to share that information with Minerva.
He retrieved his wand from the counter top by the sink and cast a drying spell over himself, leaving his hair a bit damp so he wouldn't inadvertently suck all of the moisture from it, which would result in an extremely brittle and frizzy mess, something even he would be ashamed to be seen with. Checking himself in the mirror he noted the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow darkening his jaw and chin and magiced it was with another wave of his wand.
It wasn't much longer before he was completely presentable. He had chosen his thick woolen robes, designed to keep the cold and dampness out. His hair was as usual quite agreeable and it took only a few strokes with a comb to tame it before pulling it back into a sleek pony tail. Tugging at the waist of his robes to straiten them, he gathered his thoughts, along with his traveling cloak and Slytherin house scarf and set off towards Hermione's room, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest. Would things still be the same today? Had the past few nights simply been a fluke? Or perhaps it was all simply some sort of cruel joke. Snape nearly found himself praying that it was neither, could he possibly go for any decent amount of time without holding her in his arms once again?
*~~~*~~~*
Hermione lay immersed in the comforting heat of her bath, the aroma of lavender soap and shampoo drifting about in the foggy air soothing her on every level. Her mind had finally stopped swirling at such an incredible pace, and it was becoming easier to think clearly, though any thoughts about feelings she had experienced while encircled in Snape's warm arms immediately caused her mind to reel once more. Most everything else, though, seemed so much easier to deal with in the light of the day, though. The Wild Hunt felt like a half forgotten nightmare, the memories she had been forced to relive were once again pushed back to the darker corners of her conscious mind, but some were still much to tender to linger on. The fact that Professor Snape had seen her naked and vulnerable at the hands of the Faey made her shuddered each time she mentally wandered to close, how could he ever have any respect for her after seeing something like that?
Stepping out of her tub, careful not to slip, she dried herself with a thick terry cloth towel. After covering her body in lavender scented lotion the house elves had left that morning, hoping to prolong the soothing effects of the herb, she slid into a warm bath room and left the foggy bathroom. Her hairbrush in hand, she began attempting to tame her tangled locks. Wincing every time she found a new knot, she was just a few moments away from simply chopping it all off when there was a quiet rapping at her door. Swearing under her breath she marched over to the door intending to fling it open but catching herself just in time so that she instead cracked it open only a foot or so, brush still in hand, to find Professor Snape standing before her. "Oh! Professor! I.I thought you were someone else." She absently tightened the belt of her robe and narrowed the opening in the door a bit, her cheeks glowing bright pink. He had seen her in such a humiliating situation, the last thing was wanted was for her robe to fall open and embarrass her further.
"Good morning, Ms. Granger." Snape lifted his chin a bit, the only outward sign of his surprise at finding Hermione in her bathrobe. Clearing his throat he clasped his hands behind his back, forcing himself not to loose his composure over something so trivial. "Ms. Granger, I'll be visiting Diagon Alley this afternoon and I thought it best for you to accompany me so that you might purchase a new wand, and anything else you may need to purchase."
Sudden excitement mixed with a heaping dose of doubt and fear welled up within her and her mind raced, mulling over each option as quickly as it could. After what seemed to be several minutes she finally nodded, and smiled, her excitement prevailing. "That would be lovely, sir, thank you for inviting me. I'll need a few minutes to get ready, though, if that's ok."
Professor Snape nodded once, thankful that she hadn't said no, "I need to pay a visit to the Headmistress before leave, anyway. She must be informed about what you saw in the forest last night."
Though the idea of telling Minvera about the Wild Hunt bothered her immensely for reasons she didn't fully understand.
Noting her expression, Snape wondered why she would be reluctant to share the information, but decided not to press the matter; he had overstepped his bounds when it came to probing her thoughts enough to last a life time the night before. "Meet me in the entrance hall when you are ready. And I recommend dressing warmly; Diagon Alley is unusually cold during the winter."
"Thank you, sir, I wont be long." She pushed aside her ill feelings about disclosing the previous night's events and looked back up at him, meeting his ever piercing gaze and smiling, the anticipation of the afternoon trip with Snape sneaking up on her and setting butterflies flittering within her stomach, and causing her heart to pound in a new way, forcing her previous unpleasant thoughts into the background. It was as though the sun had just risen within her minds eye, and for a brief moment Hermione felt nothing but pure radiant joy, basking in the knowledge that there was at least one bright point in her available memories to guide her through the darkness, it may not last forever, but she had it now, and that was what was really important.
Snape watched her intently, seeing her mind work, and the change in her expression, from fearful, shy, but hopeful, to excited, confidant, and perhaps even content. In a moment of sudden inspiration he offered her a slight smile and with one last nod, turned and in a flurry of black robes headed towards Minerva's office.
The smile she offered in return came from deep within her and was truly genuine. As he turned to leave she reluctantly shut the door behind him and immediately beginning to ready herself, she'd be damned if she'd make him wait for her.
*~~*~~*
Thursday's child
David Bowie All of my life I've tried so hard
Doing my best with what I had
Nothing much happened all the same
Something about me stood apart
A whisper of hope that seemed to fail
Maybe I'm born right out of my time
Breaking my life in two
[CHORUS]
Throw me tomorrow
Now that I've really got a chance
Throw me tomorrow
Everything's falling into place
Throw me tomorrow
Seeing my past to let it go
Throw me tomorrow
Only for you I don't regret
That I was Thursday's child
Monday Tuesday Wednesday born I was
Monday Tuesday Wednesday born I was
Thursday's child
Sometimes I cried my heart to sleep
Shuffling days and lonesome nights
Sometimes my courage fell to my feet
Lucky old sun is in my sky
Nothing prepared me for your smile
Lighting the darkness of my soul
Innocence in your arms
[CHORUS]
*~~~~*~~~~~*
*LOL* alright, I know it's not typical for an author to pull a chapter and completely rewrite it, but I'm sorry, I was completely appalled by what I wrote last night *LOL* I feel much better about this one ^_-. I'd like to apologize to those who read the first version of this chapter, it was awful anyways, thanks everyone!
Original notes::
There! Ack! *LOL* I thought this chapter was never going to end *LOL* next chapter= more fun in diagon alley, crazy old Maurice--- I mean Albus, and hopefully more exciting stuff that was in this one. I hate following up that last chapter with this one.but of course all drama has to have bridges between it *L* it's currently 5 :15, and yet again I have to forgo individual responses to reviews, but I will say this-thank you all a thousand times over.. I was incredibly nervous about the previous chapter, hence the delay, but you guys made my worries disappear, thank you all again from the bottom of my heart! ^_^ Happy New years!
Chapter 17
Nothing Prepared Me For Your Smile
Bit by bit the young woman in Professor Snape's arms began to relax, and the urgency of her sorrow began to fade. He could feel her skin beneath her night robes, and it was becoming cool from the chill of the classroom, and he could see his own breath condensing in front of him; but it was Hermione who finally pulled away, her eyes red and swollen, though her face was dry.
Briefly she met his eyes before looking away and sitting back from him, color rising to her cheeks.
Snape rose from his kneeling position, his knees protesting painfully. After a moment of debate he offered his hand to her, and was thankful when she grasped it tightly, and hoisted her deftly to her feet, which put her just a few inches from his body.
There were several awkward and silent moments, Professor Snape's expression stony as ever, though his eyes now clearly betrayed him; and Hermione staring at a spot on the floor. Finally he spoke, his voice softer than she could have thought possible.
"I believe it may be safe for you to return to your room, Ms. Granger. Of course, I will have to confirm this before you may go. Please excuse me." He waited for her to move to the side, retrieved his wand from a nearby desk, removed the wards, and unlocked the door. "I will only be a moment." Cautiously he stepped out into the dark hallway, closing and warding the door behind him. "Lumos" The end of his wand lit up like a flashlight and he slowly made his way towards her room. Snape found her door wide open, a newly lit fire crackling in her fireplace, and the pale light of dawn filling her room; could the sun be rising already? Slowly he crept across the room towards her windows. Gazing out across the grounds blanketed in a thick gray fog, he saw nothing. He narrowed his eyes and looked to the forbidden forest, and again saw nothing. Deciding that it would be much better to be safe than sorry he cast wards upon the windows, and then turned to leave.
*~~*~~*
The moment Snape left the room, Hermione clamped her hand over her mouth in shocked, amazement, and disbelief. He had held her, comforted her, and it was obvious that he did no disgust her. Grinning she straitened her robes and leaned against a nearby table waiting for him to return, closing her eyes, her hand over her heart. He didn't disgust her, he had seen her on her knees being treated and acting like a pathetic, obedient spaniel. Emotion washed over her and she bit her lip to keep from sobbing. Relief, happiness, desire, both emotional and physical, all mixed with a lingering fear spawned by knowledge that the source of her disgust and self loathing was now hunting for her. Suddenly she was pulled from her thoughts by the door knob clicking as it turned.
Slowly the door opened and he stepped in, and was immediately struck by the waves of intense emotions emanating from her. It took a moment for him react and step aside, holding the door open for her. "It's safe, Ms. Granger. I warded your windows just in case, though."
Nodding, she offered him a warm smile, though her eyes were filled with dark clouds of whirling emotions, and stepped out into the hallway. Snape shut the door behind them, his wand still putting off a brilliant light. They made their way together down the hallway, and Hermione found her rather busy mind slowly narrowing the flurry in her thoughts to the night before last when she had kissed him on the cheek. Her hands quickly became clammy and her body became even colder than before. Should she kiss him again? Would he kiss her? Suddenly her heart was pounding fiercely against her ribs like a caged animal rattling the bars of its cage, she couldn't remember ever being properly kissed; the Faey had considered a human's mouth unfit to touch with their own. Automatically she stepped into her room when they came to it and turned towards Snape, her mouth going dry.
Standing across from her, Professor Snape's body and mind mirrored hers surprisingly well, and he felt as though he was standing on a precipice, debating on whether or not to dive into the blackness which could either hold his doom or ecstasy. In his minds eye he stood a bit taller, spread his arms wide, bent his knees, and then gracefully plunged into the abyss. Physically he stepped towards her, bent slightly at the waist, placed both hands gently on either side of her face and lowered his head, brushing his lips across her forehead, just below her hairline. He lingered for a moment taking in her wonderful scent, and then pulled away.
It felt as though some creature made of ice had run its fingers up her spine and belly, and Hermione's breath caught her in her throat as he kissed her. His lips warm upon her skin, setting a fire that spread rapidly down through her body. Deeply rooted bitter sweet passion sprout up from within her, and unable to stop herself as he pulled away, she leaned forward, resting her head upon his chest, her eyes tightly shut.
Completely beyond shock, Severus gently wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, one hand resting upon the back of her head, lost in the texture of her hair beneath his fingers.
Her head pressed against his chest, she could clearly here the pounding of his heart, his chest warm against her cheek. Suddenly the intimacy of the moment struck her so hard, that she couldn't help but pull away. Cheeks flushing red, she swallowed hard, and smiled despite the lump of nervous energy bouncing about in her belly.
Snape felt something stir within him, rousing emotions he thought long dead. Her smile, filled with so much emotion, emotions that he could feel standing two feet away, her excitement, fear, curiosity all mixing together into some unnamable feeling, a feeling that was so grand that there was no room for the disgust and loathing that everyone else directed at him. Her smile filled him with warmth and he shivered, feeling the last bit of cold bitterness melt from his heart. It started out as a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth, but it grew a bit wider, and he smiled warmly, and perhaps even fondly down at the suddenly beautiful woman before him. She was no longer a know it all little girl with bushy hair, she was a woman, a person. Still wearing his newly acquired smile he gathered his thoughts and drew himself back together, knowing that as much as he wished otherwise, the night had to end somewhere. "Good night, Ms. Granger." Clasping his hands behind his back, his smile fading into a simple grin, he then turned away, heading back towards his quarters, bare feet silent on the floor of the hallway.
Completely at a loss for words, Hermione slowly closed the door as he faded from view, her heart pounding in her ears. Leaning up against the door, clutching her robes, Hermione cried once again, the only way she knew how to express both the terrible and wonderful emotions within her.
*~~*~~*
Snape lay between his covers, staring up at the ceiling, a content smile playing across his face. His heart felt full to bursting, and every bit of his body felt more alive than it had in ages, every bit of him tingling and filled with a glorious warmth, but it was all tainted by his ever present doubts. What he lost her, like everything else of any good that had ever graced his unusually dark life? She was being hunted and expected him to basically put her down if all hope was ever lost, could he? Would he? What if they captured her and he was unable to save her either alive or dead? What then? And if she was saved alive, what would she think of him once her memories returned? It was a very long time before Snape finally drifted off, but thankfully for the first time in years, his dreams weren't filled with images of the wasted form of Dumbledore; instead they were haunted by the memory of Hermione's warm body wrapped in his arms, and the smell of lavender which lingered in her hair.
*~~~~~*~~~~~~*
Drowsily Hermione opened her eyes, immediately blinded by the intense sunlight streaming in through her windows. Slowly she rolled over, her mind taking a few moments to catch up to her waking body. The previous night seems to drift upwards out of the pool of her memories before jolting her suddenly awake. Had it been honestly real or some cruel, bitter sweet dream? If it was real, what would happen today? Experimentally she pulled the front of her night robes up to her nose and inhaled. The smelled distinctly of cinnamon, lavender, and many other spicy scents; there was no longer any doubt that the previous night had been real, so then the real questions began to surface. Things had been moving so quickly, would they continue that way? How would he react to her if he saw her today? Hermione was violently yanks from her thoughts by a knock at her door. With an annoyed sigh she slid out from beneath her covers and went to the door stiffly, feeling as though she had run a hundred miles the night before, not caring in the least that her hair was standing on end and she was still clothed in her night robes. Upon opening her door she found the smiling face of Minerva McGonagall standing before her and it took an incredible amount of internal strength to keep from groaning irritably. "Good morning, Minerva." As it was her voice clearly lacked any amount of enthusiasm.
"Good Afternoon, Hermione, I apologize for waking you." She smiled, one of her thin graying eyebrows cocked.
Hermione answered with forced laugh that sounded more like a grunt than anything.
"I thought you ought to know that you will have a visitor in probably.." She thought for a few moments before speaking again, "Within the hour. Molly Weasley owled me this morning telling me that she'd be flooing in from the burrow. Would it be alright if I directed her to your room, or will you be out?"
It took a bit longer for her words to process than normal, and when Hermione's mind finally came to a conclusion she nodded, her impatience mounting. Why did the day have to begin like this? Why couldn't she spend her day perhaps grinding some more herbs with Professor Snape, or even sitting in her room reading?
With a sigh, Minerva pursed her lips, exasperation showing clearly on her aging face. "Good day, Hermione." She turned on her heels and briskly made her way down the corridor towards the stairs leading up to the great hall.
Sluggishly Hermione shut the door and began to grumpily make her bed. Her hair gave her an unusual amount of trouble, and once all of the tangles had been worked out, it all stood on end in a frizzy mess as though she had stuck her finger in a light socket. Roughly she pulled it back into a small bun, and then wrestled her robes on. Taking a quick glance in the mirror she was startled by just how awful she looked, her eyes still swollen and red, her nose as well. It look as though she had a horrible cold. Sighing she went to her sink and splashed her face with cold water, drying it on a thick towel before heading back into her room to curl up in her arm chair with Moste Potente Potions once again, trying desperately not to dwell to long on the events of the night before. Though not in the least unpleasant over all, they still caused a great swell of confusing emotions which made her eyes begin to water once again..
Halfway through the next chapter she was interrupted by a quite knocking on her door. She bit her lip to keep back an explicative went to her door, forced a gracious smile and opened it to find a thin, frail, pinched looking woman in heavily patch robes smiling warmly.
"Hermione? Is that really you, dear?" Her voice was just as frail as her appearance, but her smile was enough to make even the coldest heart thaw.
Hermione nodded. "Yes, I'm Hermione. You're Molly Weasley?"
Without warning Mrs. Weasley stepped forward and pulled the younger woman to her in a surprisingly tight embrace. "Oh Hermione! It's so wonderful to have you back! We were all so afraid! Most just gave up hope, but I KNEW you'd come home." She held her at arms length, grinning broadly.
Tensing up at the suddenness of the unfamiliar woman's actions, Hermione patted her on the back awkwardly and chose to simply remain silent, having no idea what to say. It was even worse when the woman held her out as if inspecting her. She looked away, afraid that perhaps this woman could pierce through her mind and delve into her raw emotions the way so many others seemed to.
Finally the Mrs. Weasley stepped back and pulled her arms away, beaming, tears brimming in her eyes. Hermione forced another smile, though she felt like a deer being highbeams, and then stepped away from the door to allow her to enter. "Please come in, it's chilly out in that hallway."
Mrs. Weasley limped into the room, which startled Hermione, and looked around obviously impressed, and pleased.
Hermione took a seat in one of her overstuffed arm chairs and motioned the older woman to the one across from her, attempting to play the gracious hostess, though already her mind was wandering around in memories of Snape.
Easing herself down into the offered seat, Mrs. Weasley folding her hands in her lap, grinning broadly, "So.. I see Minerva has been treating you well, despite the fact that the silly woman put you down in the dungeons like some sort of Slytherin. It's common knowledge that they enjoy places like this, but a Griffindor such as yourself needs plenty of sun shine, am I right?" Her voice had suddenly gained a strange, perhaps bitter quality to it and she glanced in the direction of Snape's classroom and quarters. "But the windows to help it along a bit, don't they?"
Confused for a moment by the sudden change in the woman's voice, Hermione faltered for a moment before responding. "I-It's nice.I don't mind the dungeons at all." 'Mostly because of the occupant three doors away', she added mentally, her stomach doing flips when she lingered on him a bit too long.
"Well yes, I suppose it could be alright if someone were to." She coughed and glanced in the direction of Snape's room once more, "Clean it out a little bit. Merlin knows what sort of disgusting creatures live down here."
Hermione could barely keep the anger and confusion building within her chest from showing on her face. 'Clean it out a little bit"? "Disgusting creatures"? It was obvious what she meant but why on earth would she say such a thing, and how could someone be so sweet and warm one moment and malicious the next? It was obvious that no one really cared for Professor Snape, but up until that point she had never heard anyone be so open about it. Her cheeks turn a bit pinker, no matter what her reasons for being angry, surly they weren't important enough to speak of him in such a way. "Ah well, if I find anything dangerous, Professor Snape is just a few doors down, he's been quite kind to me." The look upon Mrs. Weasley's face nearly made her laugh out loud.
"Ah. well. yes, of course." The blush on her cheeks made Hermione's look pale and sickly by comparison. "Anyways, so tell me dear, how have you been?"
They spent the better part of two hours in awkward conversation never straying past mundane subjects such as the weather, the possibility of Hermione returning to school, and Mrs. Weasley's hopes that Ron, Ginny, and Harry would be home for Christmas, even if they didn't receive the letters in time. It was possibly one of the toughest challenges Hermione had ever face out of what she could remember. Her heart was screaming at a thousand different levels with almost every emotion a human could experience, but her mind was reining it in, and telling her to focus on the task at hand, which seemed to be completely impossible. Seem interested, listen, respond appropriately, it felt as though someone had asked her to wrangle a Hippogriff. It seemed like ages before the older woman finally tired of the conversation and stood gingerly, favoring one leg. "Oh dear, it's getting late, and I promised Minerva that I'd visit her before I had to go back to the burrow, but of course I will visit again soon."
Standing, Hermione followed her, feeling as though a weight had been lifted. Now finally there was the chance of seeing Professor Snape, not before she made herself presentable, though. "That will be nice." She opened the door and stepped away to allow the woman to pass.
Molly paused and gave her a brief hug, much less friendly than before, apparently she had picked up on the girls annoyance more than she was willing to let on.. "Right, well, good to have you back dear." Her smile seemed a bit forced this time around, but Hermione didn't mind in the least bit, and with her own forced smile and a little wave, she shut the door behind Mrs. Weasley and sighed in relief. Thankfully she had made no more ill remarks about Snape, but the first two had completely spoiled the conversation, and Hermione secretly wished that she wouldn't have to see Molly again any time soon.
*~~~*~~~*
Professor Snape awoke at midday, his blankets and pillow both missing, probably somewhere on the floor. All through the night he had been haunted by wonderful dreams of Hermione's cool skin beneath his fingers, her small body pressed against him, the warmth of her forehead beneath his lips. Not once had she turned into Dumbledore with his cold, unseeing eyes and thin, frail form. There had been one in particular that interested him in which he had been wandering through the forbidden forest during spring and came upon a grove of remarkable oak trees next to a lovely stream. A few feet from the stream, though, there was a young willow tree not much taller than he, it's long, whispy branches trailing In the swift water. That wasn't what drew his attention though, his eyes were drawn immediately to a pale figure standing in the water, wet and glistening in the warm afternoon light, her wavy, brown, slightly bushy hair falling down to her bare hips. She bent down, her back to him, and scooped water from the stream before standing again, trickling the handful of water over her chest, just below the nape of her neck. Apparently hearing him the figure had turned, her face was that of Hermione's. It was then that he noticed the tiny golden chair connecting her wrist to the thin little willow. Suddenly, now thinking back on it he realized how much like a Waterhouse painting it had been, the idea stirring his emotions even more.
He mulled over it for another few moments before reluctantly forcing himself to rise from bed, entire body achingly stiff. The warmth of his shower was a welcome comfort and took full advantage of it, standing below the spraying water, lazily scrubbing his body and hair for nearly three quarters of an hour. In a drowsy haze he laid out his plans for the day; it was Sunday so he had no classes, and the majority of the students had left for the holiday break earlier that morning. He could of course read.. Perhaps grade one of the waiting stacks of papers in his desk. Or he could invite Hermione to Diagon Alley. The suggestion came unbidden, but he immediately favored it. She needed a wand as soon as possible. If the Wild Hunt returned, she couldn't be defenseless, he simply wouldn't allow it. He swallowed hard at the thought of Hermione's situation, flashes of her memories popping up in rapid succession. The idea of what happened to her cause a sudden fire in the pit of his stomach, and he felt the beginnings of boiling anger an hate welling up within him. He was quick to snuff it out, however. It would do her no good to become enraged and thus blind. She needed his help, and he was more than willing to give everything he had to defend her. Laughing to himself he wondered why all of a sudden he would be so willing of offer his assistance, he never had been before. Sighing, Snape realized with a start that he'd also have to inform the headmistress about the incident the night before, the idea not pleasing him in the least. Of course he reserved the right to keep certain more sensitive parts between Hermione and himself, it was her choice as to whether or not she wanted to share that information with Minerva.
He retrieved his wand from the counter top by the sink and cast a drying spell over himself, leaving his hair a bit damp so he wouldn't inadvertently suck all of the moisture from it, which would result in an extremely brittle and frizzy mess, something even he would be ashamed to be seen with. Checking himself in the mirror he noted the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow darkening his jaw and chin and magiced it was with another wave of his wand.
It wasn't much longer before he was completely presentable. He had chosen his thick woolen robes, designed to keep the cold and dampness out. His hair was as usual quite agreeable and it took only a few strokes with a comb to tame it before pulling it back into a sleek pony tail. Tugging at the waist of his robes to straiten them, he gathered his thoughts, along with his traveling cloak and Slytherin house scarf and set off towards Hermione's room, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest. Would things still be the same today? Had the past few nights simply been a fluke? Or perhaps it was all simply some sort of cruel joke. Snape nearly found himself praying that it was neither, could he possibly go for any decent amount of time without holding her in his arms once again?
*~~~*~~~*
Hermione lay immersed in the comforting heat of her bath, the aroma of lavender soap and shampoo drifting about in the foggy air soothing her on every level. Her mind had finally stopped swirling at such an incredible pace, and it was becoming easier to think clearly, though any thoughts about feelings she had experienced while encircled in Snape's warm arms immediately caused her mind to reel once more. Most everything else, though, seemed so much easier to deal with in the light of the day, though. The Wild Hunt felt like a half forgotten nightmare, the memories she had been forced to relive were once again pushed back to the darker corners of her conscious mind, but some were still much to tender to linger on. The fact that Professor Snape had seen her naked and vulnerable at the hands of the Faey made her shuddered each time she mentally wandered to close, how could he ever have any respect for her after seeing something like that?
Stepping out of her tub, careful not to slip, she dried herself with a thick terry cloth towel. After covering her body in lavender scented lotion the house elves had left that morning, hoping to prolong the soothing effects of the herb, she slid into a warm bath room and left the foggy bathroom. Her hairbrush in hand, she began attempting to tame her tangled locks. Wincing every time she found a new knot, she was just a few moments away from simply chopping it all off when there was a quiet rapping at her door. Swearing under her breath she marched over to the door intending to fling it open but catching herself just in time so that she instead cracked it open only a foot or so, brush still in hand, to find Professor Snape standing before her. "Oh! Professor! I.I thought you were someone else." She absently tightened the belt of her robe and narrowed the opening in the door a bit, her cheeks glowing bright pink. He had seen her in such a humiliating situation, the last thing was wanted was for her robe to fall open and embarrass her further.
"Good morning, Ms. Granger." Snape lifted his chin a bit, the only outward sign of his surprise at finding Hermione in her bathrobe. Clearing his throat he clasped his hands behind his back, forcing himself not to loose his composure over something so trivial. "Ms. Granger, I'll be visiting Diagon Alley this afternoon and I thought it best for you to accompany me so that you might purchase a new wand, and anything else you may need to purchase."
Sudden excitement mixed with a heaping dose of doubt and fear welled up within her and her mind raced, mulling over each option as quickly as it could. After what seemed to be several minutes she finally nodded, and smiled, her excitement prevailing. "That would be lovely, sir, thank you for inviting me. I'll need a few minutes to get ready, though, if that's ok."
Professor Snape nodded once, thankful that she hadn't said no, "I need to pay a visit to the Headmistress before leave, anyway. She must be informed about what you saw in the forest last night."
Though the idea of telling Minvera about the Wild Hunt bothered her immensely for reasons she didn't fully understand.
Noting her expression, Snape wondered why she would be reluctant to share the information, but decided not to press the matter; he had overstepped his bounds when it came to probing her thoughts enough to last a life time the night before. "Meet me in the entrance hall when you are ready. And I recommend dressing warmly; Diagon Alley is unusually cold during the winter."
"Thank you, sir, I wont be long." She pushed aside her ill feelings about disclosing the previous night's events and looked back up at him, meeting his ever piercing gaze and smiling, the anticipation of the afternoon trip with Snape sneaking up on her and setting butterflies flittering within her stomach, and causing her heart to pound in a new way, forcing her previous unpleasant thoughts into the background. It was as though the sun had just risen within her minds eye, and for a brief moment Hermione felt nothing but pure radiant joy, basking in the knowledge that there was at least one bright point in her available memories to guide her through the darkness, it may not last forever, but she had it now, and that was what was really important.
Snape watched her intently, seeing her mind work, and the change in her expression, from fearful, shy, but hopeful, to excited, confidant, and perhaps even content. In a moment of sudden inspiration he offered her a slight smile and with one last nod, turned and in a flurry of black robes headed towards Minerva's office.
The smile she offered in return came from deep within her and was truly genuine. As he turned to leave she reluctantly shut the door behind him and immediately beginning to ready herself, she'd be damned if she'd make him wait for her.
*~~*~~*
Thursday's child
David Bowie All of my life I've tried so hard
Doing my best with what I had
Nothing much happened all the same
Something about me stood apart
A whisper of hope that seemed to fail
Maybe I'm born right out of my time
Breaking my life in two
[CHORUS]
Throw me tomorrow
Now that I've really got a chance
Throw me tomorrow
Everything's falling into place
Throw me tomorrow
Seeing my past to let it go
Throw me tomorrow
Only for you I don't regret
That I was Thursday's child
Monday Tuesday Wednesday born I was
Monday Tuesday Wednesday born I was
Thursday's child
Sometimes I cried my heart to sleep
Shuffling days and lonesome nights
Sometimes my courage fell to my feet
Lucky old sun is in my sky
Nothing prepared me for your smile
Lighting the darkness of my soul
Innocence in your arms
[CHORUS]
*~~~~*~~~~~*
*LOL* alright, I know it's not typical for an author to pull a chapter and completely rewrite it, but I'm sorry, I was completely appalled by what I wrote last night *LOL* I feel much better about this one ^_-. I'd like to apologize to those who read the first version of this chapter, it was awful anyways, thanks everyone!
Original notes::
There! Ack! *LOL* I thought this chapter was never going to end *LOL* next chapter= more fun in diagon alley, crazy old Maurice--- I mean Albus, and hopefully more exciting stuff that was in this one. I hate following up that last chapter with this one.but of course all drama has to have bridges between it *L* it's currently 5 :15, and yet again I have to forgo individual responses to reviews, but I will say this-thank you all a thousand times over.. I was incredibly nervous about the previous chapter, hence the delay, but you guys made my worries disappear, thank you all again from the bottom of my heart! ^_^ Happy New years!