Part 17 – CYNTHIA'S SMILE

if you wish, I shall grow irreproachably tender:

« But – »

« Look, » he said, impatiently.

He closed the distance between them and kissed her deeply. She tasted of sperm and tears, like all the women he had kissed, and he groaned inwardly. He hated the taste of tears.

"See? » he said, breaking the kiss. « Nothing awful there. Nothing to be ashamed of. »

She was gaping at him as though he had grown an extra head, and he sighed.

« If you don't like the taste, it's just too bad. Have a Lemon Drop or something. »

As he turned and picked up the jar on his desk, she came back to her senses.

« Maybe I should go, » she said shakily.

« Maybe you should, » he said, opening the jar.

She moved towards the door, but she stopped with her hand on the door-knob.

« Do you want me to fetch Madam Pomfrey? » she asked timidly.

« No need. She's busy. »

« Oh. »

She looked at him while he started spreading some cream on his wounds.

« But- I mean, you will need some help with that, » she said, hating herself. Snape had been selfish, she told firmly to herself. No need to pity him.

But a small voice in the back of her head disagreed. He told you about the Epona Charm. He kissed you.

She still wasn't sure about that, but it had been helpful. She felt better.

« You are full of surprises, Miss Granger, » he said, a strange look in his eyes. « But I am accustomed to tend to my wounds alone. »

If he had hoped that this would finally push her out, he was mistaken. He had chosen exactly the wrong words. Hermione couldn't accept that.

Without speaking, she walked forward and took the jar out his of his hand.

« This works well on open wounds, » she whispered. « But you'll need something else for the burns on your back. »

Snape stood motionless as she went to the open cabinet and took out of it an Icing Mixture. He looked right in her honey eyes as she came back towards him, but she didn't lower them. She circled him and and stood behind him. He heard her opening the jar and a moment later he took in his breath sharply as he felt the cold fingers on his skin.

He didn't want to know if he was reacting to the fingers or to the coldness.

As he was still hoping to scare her away, he snapped his fingers and the knife continued his work, leaving him naked in the centre of the room.

Hermione had noticed his challenge, but she didn't feel like accepting it – nor she did want to refuse it. Her eyes and her fingers were caressing his pale skin, and she was so sad, and angry, and sorry to see a body so marked by violence that in her brain there was room for nothing else.

The fluttery feeling of excitement she had sensed in the dungeon was buried deep down.

She healed all the burns on his back and his legs, then came in front of him. As his chest bore only the mark of a large knife, of which Snape had already taken care of, she kneeled in front of him to reach his legs and feet, and the last two burns on his body.

Snape looked down in disbelief at her form crouching between his legs. In his experience, women didn't kneel willingly in front of him. And they certainly didn't care about him being alive or dead.

When she looked up at him and smiled timidly, he saw Cynthia's smile. For the first time after so many years, she was smiling at him. Like she had done at the restaurant, and in the cab, combing his long dark hair with her little fingers.

Seeing the closed look on his face, Hermione got up and took a step back.

« Are you better? » she asked quietly.

Snape made a movement like a dog shrugging off water, and seemed to come to his senses. He passed his hands on his wounds, which were slowly fading on his pale skin, then he snapped his fingers and was suddenly black-clothed again, looking imposing and severe as he always did.

« How are you? » he asked seriously, looking at her.

« Fine, » she muttered, surprised that he cared, and deeply relieved to see that haunted look disappear from his eyes.

Snape probed her mind gently. She seemed so fragile that he felt sick with himself.

« I'm sorry about the ordeal you went through tonight, » he said.

« It wasn't your fault. »

« Yes, it was. »

She looked at him curiously.

« I betrayed the Order, » he stated, wondering why he was telling her this.

« I know. », she said, lowering her eyes. « But Professor Lupin said that you could have killed Harry, and you chose not to do it. »

« It's complicated. »

Hermione lowered her eyes. Why was he doing her this? She was on the point of liking him very much and now he was unsettling her again. She put her hands in her hair and started to braid it absent-mindedly.

« Why would you betray them? »

He didn't say anything.

« Is it because they don't like you? » she asked eventually.

Snape smirked, and she was sure he was about to say that he didn't care about that. But what he did say made her heart skip a beat.

« No. Because the Dark Lord would have given me – you. »

A/N Ok, ok, I know...you have a right to hate me and so on...I haven't updated in ? what ? weeks , and the last chapters were a bit confused, not to mention lousy...but my life is complicated at the moment – and this is no excuse, so is yours, and I hate when a story doesn't finish myself...so sorry sorry everyone. There is still one chapter to go, and I will post it over the weekend, I swear. And I'm working on a special project to earn some forgiveness from you...so don't kill me just now, let me finish it... :))