Well… here it is; chapter 12. I've written till chapter 16 and I quite like where this fic is going. What do you think?

Thanks to Maddy-Riddle whose reviews I find extremely funny; GRACIAS! And also to my dear Dawniky who always supported me.

So…well… here it is; chapter 12… enjoy!

Chapter 12: Knitting the past

It was very early when he woke up that morning and for those who love tea as much as Severus does, every morning brings about the scent of ginger and mint. But that particular morning, the scenes of the night before flashed in front of his eyes. He needed not a reminder; he could remember perfectly well what had happened.

It was the past, hunting for release. It was the past trying to trace its way across the path of the present. A past that ashamed him; a past he regretted constantly. But all the same, it was the cause of his present situation after all. If he had not joined the Dark Side in the first place, the chances of becoming a professor at Hogwarts would have been none and thus, marrying Miss Granger wouldn't have been an option.

He got up, leaving Hermione on the bed- witness of their passion- and walked towards the windowpane. He just stood there, contemplating a land that belonged to no one but him, a land that had brought him joy as a child; a land that had served as a refuge from his father's abusive treatment. The fields were as green and as fertile as the day he had left Snape's Manor, waving goodbye to his loving mother.

She had been sick for several months and the bare sight of her pale complexion filled his eyes with tears. He loved his mother more than he had ever loved anyone and knowing that death would soon reach her, he left, blaming his father for everything.

He didn't get to see his mother alive again, nor his father for that matter. The bastard that had been responsible for his birth had breathed longer than his dear mother and the thought of that, boiled his blood with hate.

By the time Severus Snape had inherited Snape's Manor, a young sorcerer was slowly gaining power. His friend from Hogwarts, Lucius Malfoy, was a faithful servant of Lord Voldemort and so, murdering and torturing those who were innocent brought peace to his soul, somehow. He did not do it for the money; he owned plenty. He did not do it for the power; he needed none. He did it for the pleasure and even though he regretted spilling the blood of those who were guiltless, nothing could be done to change the past. The Dark Mark may not be visible, but the heavy cross he carried on his back was evident enough to the keen eye.

And it was only a matter of time before Hermione would discover the dark within him, if they continued with the kind of behaviour that had plastered a smile on his wife's face the night before.

Why did he care? Because he had feelings for her, sentiments that might be improper to label as "love", but sure enough a connection between the both of them had been created even if it was only based on sexual attraction.

He was staring down at the tree under which he used to sit seeking shade in the summer, when his wife yawned widely, obviously not entirely knowing where she was.

"Good morning, my Dear," he coldly said from the window, not daring to look her in the face.

"Good morning, professor," She said as icily, looking straight in his direction challenging him to look at her. She might have been half asleep but all the same she knew how to handle this situation. She had been through this before and she was now completely aware of the power she possessed over him.

"Yes, Miss Granger, I was wondering if you would give me the honour of your company for breakfast," he politely asked, searching for an old robe inside a wooden drawer, avoiding eye contact with her.

"Of course, Severus," she said, smiling widely and standing up from the four-poster bed. She walked to where he was and placed a sweet kiss on his cheek, "I hope you don't mind me calling you Severus after the names you called me yesterday," she said grinning; she was enjoying the look of fright that had taken over his face. What was she playing at? Who had kidnapped the Miss Granger he used to shout at in Potion's classes, the girl that had blushed when he had first kissed her? But as he looked into her brown eyes, he became curious as to how she would react if he touched her as he had done the night before.

He looked down at her and placing a hand on her most intimate spot, he caressed the softness of her shaved skin. She shivered, not because it was cold but because she was scared.

"Hermione," He whispered into her ear with his mainly voice, "I am hungry. A nice breakfast would suit us both, wouldn't you agree?" he asked; the degree of politeness of the question had completely aroused her. He felt her sticky juices on his fingers and thus, he decided to withdraw his hand from that place that felt so silky and so spongy and made life a lot simpler than it really was.

"Of course," she said, regaining composure.

"I will meet your downstairs, Hermione," he formally said, but the bare use of her name made the sentence a lot less ceremonial.

And with that, he was gone.

---*---*---

Thirty minutes after that, she entered the dinning room looking dashing in pink. She wasn't very fond of pink but Dumbledore's wedding present was nice enough for her to wear.

He stood up from the chair he had been waiting on her in and stretching his left arm as far as it got, he took her hand in his. He escorted her to her place where a porcelain plate was resting, surrounded by two forks and two knifes on each side. One glass filled with pumpkin juice had been positioned next to a steamy cup of black coffee, which he had previously poured for her. A smaller plate, however, was located far away from the central plate with a piece of homemade bread on it.

"I hope you find everything to your liking," he said, while clapping his hands together three times. Immediately their plates filled with the most marvellous food Hermione had ever tasted.

"Of course," she said, ignoring him. The food was fantastic enough for her not to pay attention to anything else. He smiled at this, in spite of himself.

Once they were finished, he decided to ask the question he had been meaning to ask her since she had disturbed his thoughts that very morning.

"Miss Granger, dear Hermione, would you mind joining me for a stroll through the fields?" he asked, stretching his arm once again in order for her to grab him. She liked being near him; she liked the scent that always seemed to follow him.

"Yes, Severus," she said, placing her head on his shoulder. And with that, they left the dinning room that had witnessed their silent breakfast, for this was the time for them to talk. She needed to know certain things about him, and with all the time they both had on their hands the story would serve as some kind of entertainment as they were stuck in Snape's Manor for at least a couple of days more.