It was the abnormal quiet of the room that woke him. Severus sat up quickly, his hand automatically reaching for his wand.
"Lumos," he muttered then flinched against the sudden light.
The other side of the bed was empty, the covers thrown back. He felt the exposed sheet, and it was cold. She had been gone for a while. He growled and rolled over, staring at the ceiling.
It was the fifth night in a row. The first night, nearly a week after the attack and a few days after Poppy finally released him, she had woken him as she climbed back into bed after being gone more than an hour. The third night, he found her in the living room, huddled and shivering in a chair by the fire and he was able to coax her back to bed, though she never volunteered her reasons for being there. But she never came back on the second and fourth nights, and it was beginning to look like she wasn't returning again. If this was a game, Severus was growing tired of it and fast.
His feet found their slippers and he grabbed his robe from the foot of the bed, pulling it on and tying it as he padded to the bathroom. The sound of water drifted towards him and he frowned as he noticed the light coming from the cracks around the door.
Perhaps she just wanted to take a shower at four in the morning. And why the hell not?
He opened the door and steam enveloped him as he entered the sauna of his bathroom.
"If you're not careful," Severus said over the roar of water and her surprised gasp, "you'll use up the hot water and no one will be able to bathe for class in the morning."
He opened the fogged glass door into the shower. Hermione sat in the corner, letting the scalding water soak her. Her knees were pulled to her chest, holding up her chin, and she stared at him, a haunted, empty look. He didn't know what to say, so he sat down on the stone floor, strangely cold given the amount of warmth in the room. He crossed his legs and leaned forward, eyes on her, and she lowered her cheek to her knees and looked away.
After a few minutes of silence, she clambered to her feet and turned off the water spray. Severus conjured a towel as he watched her, water streaming down her lean body, between her full breasts and down the smooth belly, and he grew aroused.
"Thank you," she murmured as he stood holding out the towel, and the corner of her mouth turned up when she noticed the bulge in his lap. "I'm sorry I keep waking you up."
His brow furrowed as she began drying off and he looked away. Since he had been out of Poppy's care, he had the majority of his free time outside of classes with her, though in truth a good deal of that time had been spent working on the mortalis fallax potion. But he still felt awkward when he talked to her about subjects other than potions.
"I thought you had left again."
She wrapped the towel around her hair and said, "I'm sorry, I just needed to get out."
"It is … alright if you do not wish to stay here," Severus said, but his eyes betrayed the lie and she saw the hurt there.
"Oh, Severus, I do want to stay," she cried, stepping out of the shower and throwing her arms around him. "I didn't go back to my room, those nights, I just walked around the castle until breakfast."
His arms went around her timidly, surprised by how his body remembered her every curve and adjusted itself to her. She was still damp from the shower and he could feel the wetness through the thin silk of the robe, and again he felt himself going hard, but he did not shift away.
"Can you tell me why?" Severus finally asked as he lay his head against her towel-wrapped head.
She squeezed him tight before saying, "I will, I promise, but not tonight. Right now, I just don't want to talk about it."
He sighed, just a tiny burst of air escaping his lips, and said, "Alright."
Hermione pulled his face down to hers and kissed him deeply before stepping back.
"I promise, we'll talk tomorrow," she said, then a gleam entered her eye and Severus's stomach clenched when she untied his robe and slid her hands up his chest. "Now, let's go back to bed."
After their lovemaking, Severus had problems going back to sleep, though Hermione had no difficulty whatsoever. He watched her sleeping form for awhile before giving up on the idea of sleep altogether a little after six.
After showering and dressing, he summoned a house elf for the morning's Daily Prophet and a pot of tea and sat before the fire as he devoured the paper and sipped tea. He had been watching diligently for anything further on the attack at the quidditch match, but so far they had just printed one article, buried deep in the back of the paper, just a paragraph that mentioned no names and no specifics, not that it surprised him. It would not do for the wizarding public to know that even Harry Potter was not safe from Death Eater ambushes. He folded the paper neatly, since Hermione liked to read it before she went for breakfast in the Great Hall.
Severus scowled as he thought about her recent behavior, which he had assumed resulted directly from him, until he remembered that she had not returned to her quarters on the nights she disappeared. A thought bubbled up that suggested whatever bothered Hermione was utterly unrelated to Severus. His eyebrows raised at the idea, and he felt foolish for not thinking of that from the beginning.
His scowl deepened as he considered what to do. She promised to tell him about it today, but he was unsure whether he should broach the subject or wait for Hermione to say something. He decided to wait for her to bring it up, rather than appear overbearing and trespass on her sense of independence. It irritated him how nervous he was over their fledgling relationship, but that did not stop him from worrying.
He realized it was nearly eight, and Hermione would be intolerable all day if she didn't get her coffee before her first class, so he returned to the bedroom to wake her up. She had taken over the bed in his absence, leaving little room for him to sit down. Her eyes fluttered open with the shift in weight and a sleepy smile crossed her face as he trailed his fingertips along her cheek.
"What time is it?"
"Almost eight."
"Why did you let me sleep so late?" she asked then yawned and stretched her arms. "I have tests I need to finish grading."
"Unless you have a doppelganger here at Hogwarts, Hermione," said Severus dryly and his mouth twitched in what Hermione could now read as a smile, "I should think those students can live another day without those tests."
"Ha ha," she said, smirking as she pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
She brushed her lips against his and slipped through his enveloping embrace, tugged on her jeans and jumper and shoved her underwear into a pocket of her robes as she tugged them on one-handed, all the while continuing to move towards the door.
"I promised I would have them graded today, so I won't be at lunch," she called, her voice floating back as she left the bedroom. "I'll see you after class."
"The paper is on the table, if you want it."
"Thanks, already got it!"
The door slammed and Severus sighed, still seated on the bed, a hand massaging his temples before combing through his already greasy hair. He scowled and felt his good mood dissipate. He snatched his robes from the wardrobe and stalked out the back way of his rooms to check on the potions before class.
"Oh, Severus! I was hoping to find you here!" Poloma Sprout squealed as she popped her head in the doorway of the staff room. "I wanted to let you know that this year's mandrakes are maturing at a much faster rate and they will be ready in a few weeks."
"I have no immediate need for them," Severus answered, glancing up at her over the top of his book, "but I might preserve some for an emergency. Perhaps Poppy could use them."
"Of course, I will ask her." Sprout's eyes narrowed and her voice took on a conspiratorial tone. "My third years tell me you took an inordinate number of points from them this afternoon."
"If they wouldn't behave like complete imbeciles, there would be no need, but you can rest assured I took an equal number from Ravenclaw as well."
"Severus!" she chided. "I would have expected you to be more forgiving lately!"
"And why exactly would you expect that?" he snarled and Sprout took a half-step back as he uncrossed his long legs and stood, his tall frame rising over her. "If there is something you wish to ask, I suggest you ask it and stop wasting my time!"
She merely watched him with raised eyebrows as he strode to the door and yanked at the handle. She called his name and he stopped, halfway into the hall, his back to her.
"Severus, I want you to know, regardless of anything, we are happy for you, all of us."
His head whipped around and Severus fixed Sprout with his glare of death before he whirled away, his robes just barely clearing the slamming door. Sprout smiled to herself and left to tell Madam Pomfrey about the mandrakes, as well as to gossip about Severus.
Severus stalked through the hallways, Sprout's words following him like ghosts. It angered him to no end that his colleagues knew about his affection for Hermione, but on the other hand, he was thankful the news had not gripped the student body yet. While he could tolerate the smiles and stares and whispers from the other teachers, he would not suffer them from children.
From the start of term until his stint in the hospital wing, Severus had given more detentions -- most with Filch or Hagrid, not himself of course, so that he could continue work on the potion -- and taken away more House points in such a short time than ever before in his teaching career, because it allowed him an outlet for his anger and frustration from Hermione's rejection over the Christmas holidays. That rejection had really hurt and the only way he could continue to work with her on the potion, as was essential, was to take out that pain on everyone else, student or teacher. He continued the streak of punishment upon his release from the hospital wing, because he suddenly feared he would turn into Flitwick and love all of his students unconditionally. Thankfully, that had not happened, and he still hated all students, with a few exceptions that displayed the necessary talent for a further career in potions.
His eyes narrowed and a nasty smile etched itself across his face as he heard the loud chatter of students around the corner. He waited in the middle of the empty corridor, folded his arms across his chest and adopted his most fearsome glare and waited for the unsuspecting students.
A trio of third-year Gryffindors came around the corner, two boys and a girl, and they stopped dead in their tracks when they saw the feared Potions Master glaring at them. One of the boys dropped the books he had been carrying in surprise, then scurried to pick them all up again.
"What exactly are the three of you up to this afternoon?"
All three of them stammered a reply at the same time, but Severus didn't care in the least what they were doing. He glared at each in turn when Hermione rounded the same corner.
"What's going on?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.
"These three were making excessive noise in the corridors."
"Oh, come on, Severus, they're not doing anything, I was behind them in the hall."
"That will be ten points apiece from Gryffindor," he snarled, his eyes never leaving hers. How dare she? "And I would suggest, Professor," his tone making it all too clear that it was not a suggestion, "that you address me more formally in the future."
Hermione visibly bristled and she opened her mouth to speak, then caught herself and bit her tongue in front of the terrified Gryffindors whose eyes darted back and forth between the two livid teachers.
Quickly, Severus turned on them and snarled, his voice dangerously low, "Well? Why are you still standing there?"
The students darted away, rushing past Severus and out of sight, and he trained his eyes back to Hermione. She nearly staggered back from the force in his eyes, a darkness she could not recognize.
"How dare you address me like that before students!" Severus hissed.
She countered, "They weren't doing anything, and you know it!"
"They were disrupting my peace."
"Disrupting your peace? Are you kidding?" she asked incredulously. "You were probably lying in wait for some unsuspecting students to walk by, and luckily enough for you, they were Gryffindors!"
She thought she saw the corners of his mouth raise, but she couldn't tell for sure as he shrugged and said, "I would have taken points from Slytherin as well."
"Don't give me that bullshit! Everyone knows how much you adore your little Slytherins and hate everyone else."
"I have a reputation to protect."
"What is it with you and your goddamn reputation? Why are you so fucking proud to be the asshole around here?"
"Because that is all I have. Without that, I would receive no respect."
"They don't respect you, don't you get it? Everyone fears you, not respects you, because they're afraid you'll take away points or assign detention or make them feel like idiots over nothing!"
"Fear or respect, it makes no difference to me."
"And what about the teachers?" He merely arched an eyebrow, and Hermione's anger grew measurably on her face. "What about me? Do you want me to fear you as well?"
His eyes narrowed as he stared at her, his lips pursed and he said nothing.
"I spent too much time in school being intimidated by you, and those seven years were enough to last a lifetime."
She spun on her heel and stormed off, and Severus could only watch her retreating back. He scowled and retreated to the dungeons, his mind on fire as he considered her words.
Perhaps she was right, and he did still want Hermione to fear him, even after all this time, though he didn't think he did, probably just a subconscious reflex trying to push her away. He scowled as he thought she was also right about his punishment of the Gryffindors; most likely, he would not have taken away points if she had not called him by his given name in front of them. He would have to apologize for his actions, there was no other option.
Fuck!
If he was going to apologize, he would do it when he was ready, and so he busied himself in the dungeons until well after dinner.
It was nearly ten at night when Severus stood before the entrance to Hermione's rooms, arguing with the witch guarding her door.
"I'm pretty sure she doesn't want to see you," Lucinda stated as she sneered down her nose at him.
The muscles of his jaw spasmed and he wanted to rip the stupid witch from the painting and wring her neck.
"Will you just tell her I'm here?" he muttered through clenched teeth.
The witch threw a dirty look and swept from the painting. Severus crossed his arms and tapped his toe impatiently as he waited in the hallway. After a few moments, she reappeared.
"Hmmph."
"Well?" he snarled. "Is she coming?"
Lucinda shrugged just as the portrait swung open, with Hermione standing in the opening, and she stepped back to allow Severus entrance. She wore a plain t-shirt and jeans, barefoot with her hair pulled back loosely at the base of her neck.
"A pleasant witch, that one," he muttered and caught her mouth turn up for a second.
"You want some tea?" she asked, motioning to the steaming pot on the table before the sofa, and he nodded.
He followed her and sat wordlessly a few feet from her as she poured a cup of tea and handed it to him. He thanked her and sipped his carefully to keep from burning his tongue on the hot liquid. They drank in silence for several minutes until Severus cleared his voice.
"I would like to apologize for my behavior this afternoon," he said, matter-of-factly.
"And I was wrong to address you as Severus before the students." He inclined his head, but said nothing further. "Did you give back those House points to Gryffindor?"
"Why would I do that?"
"You were wrong for taking away those points!"
It was one thing for him to apologize to the woman he cared for, but he would not stoop so low as to beg forgiveness from thirteen-year-olds.
"No doubt you'll allow them an extraordinary opportunity to earn back those points your next lesson."
"If you won't give them back, then I suppose I will have to. Is this more about your reputation?"
Severus noticed the stress she placed on that particular word and allowed a small smile to grace his lips.
"Yes. You may not understand why I would prefer the students fear me than like me, but that is how I have always operated, and that will not change, I can assure you."
Hermione shrugged, deciding not to pursue the issue further. "If Dumbledore has no problem with it, then I guess it's not my place to say anything."
"Indeed."
The scowl that appeared at his condescending tone vanished as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her across the couch to him, ignoring the teacup that clattered to the floor and the tea that splashed out onto them, the couch and the rug.
He kissed her deeply, his tongue branding her mouth as his own, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, hands plunging into the locks of greasy hair, pressing against him. After a passionate few minutes, she stood, tugging him up as well, and he did not resist as she directed him to the bedroom.
A half hour later, Hermione lay with her head on Severus's flat stomach as he propped his shoulders back against the headboard, her arm draped across his waist.
"It's time we talked, about what's wrong. Why I keep getting up in the middle of the night."
Her voice was timid and he stroked her hair and said nothing. After a moment, she continued.
"I've been having this dream, it started after New Year's. It never changes, just Harry and Draco and Draco's dying. It starts out with me chasing Harry, and he keeps saying that Draco is dying, and finally I catch up to him at this huge bed. Draco's there and he tells me he's dying then he withers away in front of my eyes."
Severus tilted her face up to his and studied her intently. "Have you been dreaming this every night?"
"Since the attack, yes. But before, I had them once a week or so, but they weren't this intense. I can't sleep afterwards, which is why I keep leaving."
"Have you told Albus?"
She shook her head. "No, just Harry, and now you."
"You told Potter?"
"He came to the castle after the attack -- while you were still unconscious -- and I mentioned it to him in passing. Why?"
"Probably nothing." He continued to stare at her, until he finally said, "There could be more to the dreams than you remember."
She turned away and stared at the painting of sheep grazing on the hillside, and she did not look at him as she asked, "Can you -- could you find out anything I might not remember?"
She felt his sharp intake of breath and knew her question surprised him.
"You want me to enter your mind?" Severus asked, as if he were unsure of what she had requested of him, astounded that she could even consider it, and she nodded. "Very well."
"We could even do it now," she said, sitting up and turning around to face him. A frown flickered across his face and quickly she added, "Or later, if you'd rather."
Severus looked down at his hands, and he stayed that way for nearly a minute. Finally, he answered, "If you wish to do this now, we will."
He swung his legs around and stood before moving to the scattered clothing that littered the floor. He dug inside his robes and withdrew his wand before returning to the bed.
"Should we move?"
"No, this will be adequate. Have you ever had a Legilimens inside your mind?"
Shaking her head, she answered, "No. Or at least, not that I'm aware of."
"You do realize Potter is a Legilimens as well." Hermione's eyes widened and she shook her head again. "I realized it when I was giving him Occlumency lessons, and I would expect that talent was recognized during his auror training and he was given further lessons in Legilimency."
"If he took them, I didn't know about it, which is very possible. It seems there's more and more to Harry that I never knew."
"Yes, he is ever the cipher," he quipped, ignoring her glare. "Very well, if you are ready."
"This isn't going to hurt, is it?" she asked suddenly, her rising tone evincing her nervousness.
"No, in fact, you will not be able to actually sense my presence in your mind. However, if you find it unpleasant or uncomfortable, we can stop."
"No, it's alright." She took a deep breath and exhaled. "I'm ready."
"Maintaining eye contact will help," Severus instructed and she nodded, facing him fully and staring into the abyss of his eyes. "Legilimens."
The room disappeared and she was trapped in her own head, memories whirring by like film speeded up way too fast, and she grasped at each one as it soared past. She was four and playing in the blue waiting room of her parents' dentist practice -- eight and eating lunch alone at school -- cheering on Harry, Ron and Ginny at a quidditch match -- helping Neville look for Trevor -- Snape sneering at her for knowing the answer for some forgotten potions question -- Christmas morning, she must've been seven because Grandma and Grandpa were both still alive -- bursting into the sunlight after buying Crookshanks -- dementors swarming her and Harry --
Suddenly the world spun out of control and she landed on her bed and upright in her rooms, with Severus before her. She drew a shaky breath as his empty hand reached for her shoulder.
"Are you alright?" She nodded and he continued, "I need you to think about Potter and Malfoy, concentrate on the dream because it will make this easier for both of us. Take a moment, then tell me when you're ready."
Hermione closed her eyes and brought up every single detail of the dream, focusing her mind on Harry and Draco, then opened her eyes and looked deep into Severus's.
"Ready."
"Legilimens," he breathed, and once more she felt the room slip away.
Draco calling her Mudblood before the entire Slytherin quidditch team and Ron belching up slugs -- the false Moody turning Draco into a ferret and bouncing him while Ron and Harry doubled up laughing -- Harry holding Ron back from punching Draco -- Draco sabotaging her potion -- getting hit in the face with a hex while Harry and Draco dueled and Snape sneering down at her, "I see no difference," and her fleeing, tears streaming down her face as she tore through the hallways, her face buried --
The room came crashing back and she finally focused on Severus, who was leaning back against the headboard, holding a hand over his nose, a trickle of blood leaking out, and she looked down to see her fist balled and knuckles throbbing.
"Oh gods!" she exclaimed and summoned a towel. She filled it with conjured ice and pressed it into the hand covering his nose. "I'm so sorry!"
"No healing spell?"
"I didn't break it, so not much can be done," she said, and Severus wondered if she was telling the truth, or letting him suffer for his past indiscretion. His nose hurt too much and he couldn't concentrate, otherwise he would have found out for himself if she was lying.
He said nothing, just stared at her as the ice cooled his nose and mind. The memory returned as if it had never vanished to begin with. He remembered that day, how he had come upon the two young wizards with their wands drawn in the corridors, and he had known that Malfoy had started it, because Malfoy always started things just as Severus always looked the other way. He remembered just how his cold voice had sliced through the din as he assigned detentions and took away House points, how he had not paid Hermione any mind.
He was not truly surprised that she still harbored resentment over his treatment of her, though it was mostly subconscious, since she had attacked him with no true intent.
"There is nothing I can say to excuse my behavior at that moment," he said finally, the pitch of his voice unnaturally high from the ice pack on his nose.
Hermione blinked several times, as if that would assist in processing his words, and she said, "Just upholding your reputation, no doubt."
Her words hit their intended target, doing more damage than she expected or wanted, and she wished she could take them back when she saw the look in his eyes.
"You're right, of course," he softly acknowledged.
Hermione blinked again, then gently brushed his hand away from his face, inspecting his nose.
"You're not bleeding anymore. Does it hurt?" She prodded at the hawk-like nose, and he grimaced. "You're not going to die. But I do have something for pain if you'd like it."
Severus eyed her nervously as she jumped off the bed and went into the bathroom, and his voice was cautious as he asked, "Is it experimental?"
She reappeared in the doorway, a scowl prominent on her face, and she returned to the bed with a small orange vial.
"No, it's not," she said with a scowl, "you'll be pleased to know."
He downed the potion and instantaneously felt the pain melt away.
"Thank you," he said and set the empty vial on the bedstand. "I think we should try again tomorrow. The potions do not require anything further until lunch tomorrow, so we will have all morning."
"Thank Merlin the week's over," Hermione sighed as she climbed back into bed and under the covers. "This was a long one."
He snorted and slipped under the blankets beside her. "Just wait until May and June, and then you will truly understand the meaning of long week, especially just before O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S."
"Thanks for reminding me," she answered with a groan.
"Stop worrying, preparing students for the tests is much easier than taking them yourself."
"Good, or I'd have to kill myself!"
"That will be unnecessary, I can assure you."
"Nox," Hermione muttered and the lights extinguished immediately and she settled back into the crook of his arm, resting her head on his chest. "Thank you, for helping me. With the dream."
"I would not say that I have helped thus far, but we shall sort through this business."
"Thanks just the same. Goodnight."
Severus kissed the top of her head, and lay back in the darkness, listening as her breathing slowed and she drifted off to sleep, and he allowed his thoughts to wander. It was particularly bothersome to him that her dreams began after the attack at the quidditch match, but he wasn't sure if that was significant or not. His thoughts grew cloudy and it grew difficult to keep track of them, so he let himself to fall asleep with Hermione in his arms.
Harry stumbled up the stairs to the flat, the toe of his boot catching on last step and sending him crashing into the floor. He lay for a just moment, panting, until he forced himself, first to his knees and eventually to his feet. He leaned against the wall for a moment and caught his breath before continuing down the hallway.
His hand shook as he unwarded the door, and it took him two tries to get the door open. The flat was dark, the only light from the street lamps outside. He banged his shin against a chair as he maneuvered through the darkness towards the bedroom.
"Lumos," he muttered, as he rubbed his bruised shin and avoided running into the doorway into the kitchen.
As he entered the bedroom, he paused, watching the bed for any signs of movement, seeing only the gentle rise and fall of Draco's chest, and he thanked the gods that he was still alive. He continued on to the bathroom, flicking on the light switch as soon as he closed the door behind him. He deliberately did not look in the mirror as he tore off his cloak, not stopping until he stood completely naked, and he then turned on the shower and waited for the steam to build.
He returned to the mirror slowly, rubbing his hands over his biceps for warmth, and he brought his eyes up to his reflection. He could never get used to looking in the mirror and seeing the ice blue eyes staring back at him, the thin face and mane of white blonde hair. He was glad the potion would be wearing off in a few hours. He really hated to look like this at home, especially when he looked better than the real Draco.
The mirror clouded over from the steam, blocking the image of a healthy Draco, and Harry stepped over to the shower and into the hot spray. He stood there at first, head down as the scalding water streamed through his hair and down his back, one hand on a metal bar in the tile, the other on the glass door as he held himself up.
The meeting had not gone well, and he had taken a few crucios for Voldemort's amusement. His shoulders drooped, and he rubbed his eyes roughly with one hand. Now he understood how Snape felt all those years.
He grabbed a bar of soap and lathered up quickly, not trusting his legs to prop him up for much longer. After he scrubbed his hair and rinsed completely, he grabbed a ratty brown towel from the wall and dried off hurriedly. He picked up his discarded clothes and left the bathroom, lighting his wand again so he wouldn't crash into more furniture. He stuffed the clothes in a hamper, then pulled on a pair of boxers and climbed into bed.
Harry eased his arm around Draco's chest, spooning up to him, and he moaned in his sleep. Harry wasn't sure how much longer he could take it all, wearing two faces and watching his love die day by day. It was all becoming too much, and truth be told, he didn't care who won anymore, not really, not since Draco would die no matter which side won. Harry sighed and pulled himself closer to Draco's back, closing his eyes and pushing out all errant thoughts, except the one he could never forget.
Draco's dying, don't you remember?
___
A/N:
So, does this clarify anything for anyone? Let me know! I'm curious to see what everyone thinks is happening. Also, whether H/S are still in character after that big ol' piece of fluff that was chapter 24. (After re-reading, it does seem a bit fluffy to me.)
A reminder to everyone: you can get automatic updates if you: a.) check "Add Author to Favorites;" b.) check "Add Author to Author Alert;" c.) leave me a note in a review and I'll add you to a list.
Again, thank you everyone for reviewing, and even just reading, even if you don't review. And thanks for finally updating Izzy, though now I'm anxious for the promised lemon!! I guess I can't ban you after all! And sorry for the delay … I kept getting bits of the chapter done at one time and it took forever to tie everything together, but I'm aiming for Friday for ch 26.