Well, my friends… here it is; chapter 8. I want to thank you all for your reviews; keep them coming!
…chapter 8 is up; enjoy!
Chapter 8: The beginning of a new era
Thirty minutes had passed since they had entered Severus's chambers. They were now silently waiting for the other to talk first, but so far nothing had happened. Hermione was tired; her eyes depicted insomnia. Can you blame her, though? Her insecurities, her fears, her problems had prevented her from sleeping for the past two months, and now she was face to face with her husband- the only husband she would know for as long as her lungs resist the urge to fail- patiently waiting for him to say something. Anything would help that moment from becoming the most awkward of their lives.
People constantly resist thinking about mortality, about the meaning of the phrase "for as long as you both shall live". People fail to understand, however, that our time here on earth is not only limited but precious. One must value time over richness and even over pleasure. Time is all we have, and knowing we'll some day cease to exist is something we, human beings, refuse to accept.
Hermione Granger, being the silly girl she was, hadn't given too much thought to that expression and was now paying the consequences of her mistakes.
She was playing with the little ribbon Minerva McGonagall had sewn to her black robe, regretting her childish decisions when a voice- a very profound, manly voice- that less than two weeks ago had surprised her in the library, spoke.
"Miss Granger, who gave you that?," he asked, standing up from the leather chair he had by the fire. He looked worried and shocked about that, apparently harmless, piece of white cloth.
"Professor McGonagall," she immediately answered, lowering her hand to her heart, where the ribbon was resting. She was trying to rip it away from her robes, unsuccessfully.
"No, Miss Granger!;" he shouted, running to where she was and kneeling in front of her. But it was too late. In her hand, rested the white ribbon, "No, Miss Granger. No!," He whispered, his head resting on her legs. She wanted to touch his raven hair, but she couldn't dare. Would it feel greasy? She couldn't touch her hair; it was not convenient, for the moment, al least.
"Why is this ribbon so important?," she decided to ask while still deciding on the subject of touching his hair.
"The ribbon is not important, Miss Granger," He silently said, his head still lying on her lap, "What the ribbon represents, on the other hand…," he started to confess, but after a deep breath he felt silent.
"What does it represents, Professor?," she impatiently asked, her muscles tensed.
"Miss Granger, this ribbon represents virginity," He finally confessed, his voice barely a whisper, "When the bride rips the ribbon off her wedding robes, the marriage, in order to be official, must be consummated whiting the next 24 hours," he said, standing up.
Hermione felt the weight on her lap decrease, and when he caught sight of the man standing in front of her, she felt nothing but the urge to kiss him again. But she couldn't. Even though he was her husband now, she was nothing but a student to him. She wanted to ask him why he had gotten up, why he had broken the physical connection between them. But her mouth refused to speak what her heart desired.
"Miss Granger," he started to say. His mouth felt dry, he needed a glass of water or better a glass of his finest, and strongest, brandy, "Do you fancy a glass of water?," he finally asked, avoiding the subject of the ribbon as much as he could.
"Yes, please," she heard herself saying. Whether she had said that or "I love roman architecture" she wouldn't know. Her legs had turned to jelly; his scent was infused in her clothes.
He walked away from her, away from the room in which he had placed his head on her lap for the very first time. That would be the first of many conversations shared in that position. But of course, he did not know that.
"Miss Granger, I will pour you orange juice instead of water. Is that a problem?," he politely asked from the other room.
"Not at all, Professor," she answered, highly impressed by the degree of politeness of his question.
"You will need the sugar," he explained, as though reading her thoughts. She said nothing, just nodded.
Severus Snape was not a man of many words. He liked brief conversations. Better yet, he loved no conversations at all. Explaining to Hermione Granger that she had to lose her virginity to him, as soon as possible, was an event he was certainly not looking forward to.
He walked into his private quarters, again, this time with a glass of brandy on his left hand while carrying Hermione's orange juice on his right.
"Professor Snape," she shyly said, hiding the red on her face behind her bushy hair, "Am I supposed to undress now?" she asked, gathering all the strength she possessed.
"Miss Granger!" he shouted at once, placing his glass on a table nearby, "Are you insane?"
"But, Professor, you said that in order for our marriage to be legal, we needed to…," she started to say, but he interrupted her speech.
"Please, Miss Granger, for both our sakes, do not finish that statement,"
"What do you suggest us to do, sir?" she asked, remembering her first detention and the way in which he had asked her to call him "sir" or "professor" whenever around him. He remained silent, unable to answer her question.
"I cannot answer your question yet, Miss Granger," he confessed, rubbing his chin. He had come up with an idea to avoid talking about the inevitable, "But I can show you to your room. Professor Hagrid has already brought your luggage," he explained her, while walking towards her room.
When they reached the pine doors that lead to what would represent her private area, Hermione caught a first glimpse of what would be her sanctuary, her safe haven from the darkness of the dungeons. The room consisted of a stoned wall, a large bed and several wardrobes. The carpet was blood red and every item in the room, from the four poster bed to the tiniest of drawers was made of wood. Her sheets were black, just like his and she couldn't explain why, but she felt like she was home.
After a couple of minutes of intense staring, she was brought back to reality by a yawning Snape.
"Miss Granger, I think we should go to sleep now. Goodnight," he coldly said, grabbing the door knob in order to close the door.
"Professor!" she shouted before she could even realize, "Could you please stay here until I fall asleep?"
"Why would you want me to do that, Miss Granger? But above all things, why would I want to do that?" he said, a laugh escaping from his mouth. How could he be so cruel?
"Never mind," she muttered for only her to hear.
"I will stay, Miss Granger. But this is an exception; I do not want you to think I will stay every night of my life in your company," he bitterly said, while settling himself under the covers. She said nothing. She couldn't point out why it hurt so much to be criticized by Snape, all of a sudden. But the excruciating pains in her heart told her that life wouldn't be easy. That all the love he had proven on that kiss, back at the altar, belonged to her imagination only. He despised her. How couldn't he?
"Stupid! Stupid!" They both thought at the very same time.
They had made a mistake.
Hermione had believed that a connection between the both of them had existed.
Severus had believed that he could be nice to someone, despite himself.
Everything had been a mistake since the start.
But as they rolled over in Hermione's bed, they found themselves face to face with one and other. And then, they understood that humans are all about making mistakes. What set us apart is how we cope with them. Caressing her cheek fondly, he leaned even closer and brushing his lips with hers, they kissed and in that precise moment, he realized how pleasant it felt to be surrounded by a woman. He could get use to kissing her goodnight for hours before falling asleep. He could get use to that; yes.
"I am sorry," was all he managed to say after breaking apart. Her fragile hand had found the courage to touch his hair.
It wasn't greasy. It was silky. And she liked it the feeling of it under her palm. She liked it a lot.
Their bodies were getting closer and closer and just as Hermione thought that waving her virginity goodbye was the only thing left to do; Severus Snape broke the physical contact with words.
"Miss Granger… Hermione," he said her name for the very first time; it sounded strange coming from him, but beautiful all the same. "We need to talk," he said, standing up from her bed. He would have given the world to kiss her one more time, but bigger, more important things were at risk. Hogwarts needed them.
"Certainly," was all she said, depicting sensibility. A quality he had never thought a Gryffindor would possess.
He took her hand on his, and dragging her out of her bed they walked back to the fire where their first real conversation would be held.