Hermione lay in the near darkness, eyes open as she stared at the ceiling. Severus lay beside her on his stomach, asleep, and she watched as his back rose and fell with each breath. He had been asleep for a long time, how long she didn't know, but she thought it had to be after midnight. Hours after he lit it, the fire continued to burn, quietly crackling and popping, and filled the room with gentle light. Her eyes again turned to the ceiling.
Her thoughts tumbled around inside her head so much that she was having trouble keeping track of them. She wished she had a Pensieve to sort through them all. Perhaps she would go into Hogsmeade in the morning and purchase one.
One thought recurred in her head more often than the rest: What am I still doing here?
But she had no answer, wasn't even sure if that referred to her present location in Snape's bed or just Hogwarts in general. Suddenly, she wanted to go straight to Dumbledore's office and tender her resignation and return to London and to being an auror and alone, but she wouldn't do that, she knew already, since teaching at Hogwarts was her assignment as an auror.
I slept with Snape.
That was the second thought. As far as she could tell, there was no emotion accompanying the thought, not anger or disgust or anything, it was just a statement that had yet to take on meaning, and that truly worried her.
Severus shifted in his sleep, turning his face to her. She rolled onto her side and gently brushed his long, black hair back from his face as she studied him. He looked younger when he wasn't frowning, she decided, maybe even handsome.
It had been awhile since Hermione had been with a man, months before Hogwarts. She hadn't had a real relationship since leaving Hogwarts, not that she'd had a real relationship then either, certainly not that long-distance fling she'd had with Viktor Krum. She never really connected with men. Perhaps it was her intelligence, or lack of social skills, but she found dating terribly irksome. There were too many rules and civilities that she didn't understand.
She rolled over and again watched shadows dance on the ceiling. She really needed to talk to someone now, but not Harry or Ron, they'd never understand, or Dumbledore, gods no, or any teacher for that matter, for she knew how gossip raged through the castle. Perhaps she could talk to Ginny. She could trust Ginny to be discreet. That's what she'd do, in the morning she'd owl Ginny and see if she could slip away for tea in Hogsmeade. She would buy a Pensieve and have tea and a talk with Ginny, and then she could sort out this entire business.
With that decided, Hermione closed her eyes, forcing out all errant thoughts, and after a time, she slept.
Severus awoke with a start as he realized there was someone else in the bed, hand automatically reaching for his wand, when he remembered last night and relaxed, letting out a long breath. He had somewhat expected her to bolt in the middle of the night, half hoped she would.
He had two cardinal rules when it came to women: he always went home with her so that he could leave when he wanted, and he never slept around at work. Last night he broke both of his rules, but it didn't bother him as much as he felt it should. He sat up quietly and looked at her, her peachy skin glowing in the firelight. Her frizzy curls surrounded her face and he had to hold himself back from brushing them away, instead rubbing his forehead.
He sat up and pushed back the covers, yelping as the cold air assaulted his nude body. He grabbed his robe from the floor, disturbed from its usual spot on the foot of the bed, and reached for his slippers. He gently eased himself from the bed so as not to disturb Hermione, then went to the bathroom.
Severus turned on the hot water in the shower, letting it run as he relieved himself. He stood before the mirror, running a hand through the shoulder-length black hair, scowling at the touch of gray at his temples. He felt really old this morning, especially when he considered that he had a twenty-three year old girl in his bed. Dropping his robes, he climbed into the shower and sighed as the hot water streamed over him.
Albus will have a field day when he finds out, Severus thought grimly, imagining the old man shaking his hand and clapping him on the back, delighted that two of his protégés had found each other. He reached for the soap and started lathering, pushing the image from his mind.
He didn't know what to do with her now. His entire life had been spent avoiding unnecessary relationships, which was why he started following those two rules in the first place. Suddenly, anger flooded him and he threw his fist against the stone wall, the sharp pain in his knuckles clearing the fog of his mind.
What the hell was I thinking? he berated himself. I didn't think, and there in lies the problem.
The only way he could see out of this was to never speak to Hermione again. Which was out of the question, since it was imperative that they continue to work together on the potion, as he himself told her last night.
Perhaps she will be just as disconcerted as I. Perhaps she will say it was all a mistake and that will be the end of it.
He did not allow himself to dwell on it further as he rinsed. He exited the shower and grabbed a towel and started to dry himself roughly. He toweled off his black hair, scowling at his reflection in the mirror. He grabbed his robe and left the bathroom, moving quietly through the bedroom to his wardrobe where he removed his standard black suit, white shirt, and necessary undergarments.
As he dressed, Severus watched Hermione as she continued to sleep. She lay on her back, her arms and legs sprawled across the bed, and he could see a foot emerging from the covers. He finished dressing and moved to the bed where he sat on the edge, observing her for a moment until she mumbled something and rolled over, facing away from him. He then stood and went to his living room, where he summoned a house elf for coffee and the morning's Daily Prophet.
Half an hour later, he was just finishing the paper when Hermione emerged from the bedroom, looking slightly bewildered, her brown hair wild. His breath caught in his chest and his black eyes held her brown ones for a long moment.
Severus finally murmured, "Good morning."
"Good morning," she said hesitantly as she stood by the door.
"Would you care for coffee?" he asked, gesturing to the steaming pot that sat on the table before him.
"No, thank you. I, uh, I'm not up for anything this morning. I should probably just head back and shower, you know." His eyes clouded as he watched her. "I'll be down later, I have to, um, go to Hogsmeade to do some shopping, but I shall be down later."
"Yes, you mentioned that."
"Right," she muttered, looking flustered. "Then I guess I'll be going." She started towards his quarters then hesitated and turned back. "Do you think I should go out the back, or …" she trailed off, breaking her gaze.
"I think it doubtful anyone should be in the dungeons at this hour," Severus answered, his eyes pinned on her, "but if you prefer, the kitchens will provide suitable cover for your exit."
She glanced up at him and he saw the surprise in her eyes. No doubt she expected him to encourage her to leave through the back way, but he knew her Gryffindor sensibilities would not let her sneak away in shame. And he was right.
"No, no, that's not necessary. Besides, if I go through the kitchens the elves will overrun me."
"I should think they would remember your attempts to free them from servitude and flee," he said, the corner of his lip turning up.
Hermione laughed. "Doesn't everyone have a bleeding-heart liberal phase?"
"I never did."
"Of course, everyone except Severus Snape," she said with a grin, which faded quickly. "Well, um, I guess I'll see you later."
He watched her leave, his black eyes betraying nothing, and he sighed, folding the newspaper and tossing it on the couch beside him. It seemed he had been right in thinking she would be just as confused as he. Deciding he'd rather work than sit about and brood, he went to the library to do some research.
Draco Malfoy slowed his steps as he approached the dark house. Pettigrew told him to be here at eight o'clock, and he was a few minutes early. His insides shuddered and shook, just as every time he was preparing to meet the Dark Lord, but outwardly, he showed nothing but haughty confidence, the Malfoy trademark.
The front door swung open by itself as he approached, and he entered cautiously, peering around in the darkness. He withdrew his wand and light shot out of the tip, revealing a dusty entrance way with a cloudy mirror and a coat rack. He went down the hall to another dark room, a living room he guessed. White sheets hung on various pieces of furniture organized before a great, empty fireplace. He shivered, part from cold, part from nerves.
He headed for the set of stairs off to the left. They creaked and moaned as he made his way up, still moving cautiously. As he neared the top, he heard a murmur of voices coming from a room at the end of the hallway, and a faint light emanated from around the edges. He took a deep breath and steeled himself as he reached for the doorknob, but it was already turning and Peter Pettigrew stood in the doorway.
"You were right, Master," he called over his shoulder as he opened the door for Draco, who quickly took in the room.
It was dim, the only light coming from the roaring fire. Dust covered the floor and the fireplace mantle, and the room contained more covered furniture. Voldemort watched him with red eyes from the only armchair, a green wingback.
Draco approached quickly, dropping to his knees and kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes.
"Draco," the cold voice purred as he stood.
"My Lord."
"Tell me, how are things progressing? Have you seen Potter?"
"I have not seen Potter since the last time I was in Romania, nearly two weeks ago. Rather I did find out some interesting information about Hermione Granger."
"That Mudblood bint!" Pettigrew exclaimed. "What use is she?"
Draco turned to the short, balding man and looked him over coldly. "Mudblood or not, Granger is a witch to be reckoned with. You surely haven't forgotten how many of our number she caught alone, or that she was involved in my father's murder."
"No one has forgotten Lucius's unfortunate death, and neither should we underestimate Granger," Voldemort said, bringing Draco's attention back. "Tell me, what did you find out?"
"You of course know that she was assigned to Hogwarts for the year. My sources say it was part of Potter's punishment, to separate them and send her to Hogwarts. Everyone at the Ministry knows she is unhappy with the assignment. However, she is now working with Snape on a potion of great importance, one that would defeat Avada Kedavra."
"Is that so?"
Draco nodded. "From what I could tell, they have made little progress, perhaps only enough to survive one hit from the curse."
"That's reassuring," Pettigrew growled from the fireplace, drawing his finger through the dust and scowling. "How much longer until they get it up to two, or three, or even more?"
"That I do not know," Draco admitted. "If we were to perhaps get someone inside Hogwarts to steal a sample, I could work with it myself and see."
Voldemort nodded, his red eyes glinting. "Perhaps you could arrange an inspection yourself, Draco, and pay a visit to our old friend Severus."
"On what pretense?"
"Surely with your ingenuity you can find a reason to visit."
"I will start on that immediately, my Lord. It would be nice to have a little … chat with Snape."
Voldemort smiled, a ghastly sight as his white skin stretched across his face, and his red eyes glowed. "Yes," he hissed, "as would I, my dear Draco, as would I. Perhaps I shall have my time with him soon. Very well, that is all. You are dismissed."
"My Lord," Draco said, again dropping to his knees to kiss his master's robes. He nodded tersely at Pettigrew then turned on his heel and left the room.
It wasn't until he was well away from the house, having already apparated back to Berlin, that he stopped in a side street and wretched. He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his black robe, then continued on to his flat.
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A/N:
What do ya know, it's a short chapter! I'm sorry, but I needed to take a break from the long ones. Plus I'm having trouble w/ direction at the moment.
Well, Ch 19 was probably one of the worst received chapters I've posted … only 4 reviews. Any particular reason? Perhaps Ch 20 will redeem me. At least, I hope.
As I've said before, if there's something just not right, PLEASE let me know. It's hard for me to keep everything in perspective since I'm in the middle of writing it, so I will be the first to admit I can't always see what's happening as an outside reader would, also since I know where I'm going with this (generally speaking). That being said, I do appreciate all of you who read, even those who never review. *arches left eyebrow menacingly*
One last thing … I know originally I said there'd be a lemon in this chapter, but I changed my mind. I apologize profusely to those who were hoping to get a Hermione/Snape sexfest, but I just didn't feel up to writing it. If I ever post this elsewhere that allows a NC-17 rating, it will DEFINITELY be updated to include said sexfest!