Another long A/N for a long, long chapter. As usual, please
suspend the realities of book six and submerge yourself in my world for
a while. I own nothing except the Wagner biography I'm reading.
Soulsearching06 was my super-quick reviewer I'm glad you're having
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AveryGoodun: Yeah but now it's like super-AU. Oh well. Glad
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--aimes
They stood outside the gates of Hogwarts looking nervous. Well, Hermione looked nervous and Severus looked impassive.
"Ready?" he asked quietly.
Hermione nodded, knowing that the minute they walked through those gates, he would become the same Severus Snape he'd always been. Or the Severus Snape he'd become after the war, anyways. He had to be—they couldn't risk anyone knowing about them. She wondered when she'd see him but didn't ask. Instead they both stepped onto the grounds of Hogwarts.
Severus sped up, switching into his normal Snape mode and Hermione struggled not to fall behind. They approached the castle quickly and entered. A few students stopped to stare at them but the sight of Hermione with a teacher, even Snape, was not enough to get them talking. No one had noticed his absence over the weekend and most had assumed he was doing something for Dumbledore come Monday. The respite from his intimidating presence in Potions was welcome under any circumstances and the student body had become rather used to his odd absences. In any case, no one was brave enough to ask about it.
They all figured Hermione had simply had the misfortune to be the first person he came across when he returned to the castle. He had changed quite a lot, but any student who knew him before the end of the war was always prepared for him to lash out at any moment. It was generally agreed that in some ways the old Snape had been preferable—at least he was predictably angry all the time. The new Snape was harder to understand; one never knew what he was thinking.
Oblivious to and uncaring about the student population's musings, Hermione and Severus proceeded to Dumbledore's office rapidly. Within minutes they were seated before his desk, waiting patiently for him to complete whatever task he was engaged with. Finally, after Hermione thought she would burst from the tension, Dumbledore seated himself before them with a serious expression on his face. He looked tired and truly aged, as though he knew what news was coming.
"Miss Granger, I'm sorry you had to be involved in this," Dumbledore said gravely. "Can you both please tell me what happened?"
Snape gestured at Hermione to go first. She took a deep breath to organize her thoughts before beginning.
"Well, sir, I play the harp," she told him. "Regina, you may not know, was attempting to secure an artifact called an Amulet of Eternity." She pulled hers out from where it rested against her chest beneath her shirt. A quick movement unclasped it and she handed it to him. Dumbledore took it and held it for a moment, eyes closed.
"Yes, child, this is powerful indeed. And you were there when she tried to take this object?"
"Well, not exactly. You see the Amulet is awarded to someone in each generation. The holder is usually chosen by the previous holder of the Amulet but in this case, the previous holder had died before choosing a successor. So auditions of a sort were held, and Regina tried."
"As did you, I must assume," Dumbledore clarified.
"Yes," Hermione said, looking uncomfortable. "And I won it. At the party where it was to be given to me, Regina stole it from me. She wanted it so that she could go after the Chord of Dreams."
Albus processed this quickly before nodding. "I begin to see the grand picture, Miss Granger. She needed the Amulet to get the Chord, I presume. So you and Severus naturally went after her." He'd already registered that the Chord must be a bit of music and Hermione found herself once again impressed by the sheer intelligence of the man.
"Yes. And we managed to stop her before she got the Chord. However…sir…I…" she paused and closed her eyes for a moment, preparing herself to phrase this. No one spoke as she prepared herself.
She looked Dumbledore in the eye and spoke. "She attacked us and stabbed Professor Snape. I panicked and wasn't able to control my magic and the music's magic and I killed her. I'm so very sorry, sir," she finished miserably. "Her power just seemed to swell and Professor Snape was dying, and I freaked out."
Dumbledore looked tired and depressed but not surprised.
"I rather knew that either the pair of you would die or Regina would meet her end. I cannot say I would have the outcome be otherwise. Regina made her choices long ago, child. You were merely protecting yourself against a very powerful and very evil woman who would have killed you had she been given the chance. No, it was not your fault, Hermione, and do not trouble yourself about it too deeply."
Hermione nodded after a moment, looking unsure still.
"Go rest for awhile, Miss Granger. Severus can fill in the details of the story," Dumbledore said gently. She nodded and rose, exiting quickly.
Severus stared at Dumbledore. "Well I'm glad that what I said registered a bit, Albus," he said quietly.
Dumbledore gazed at him with infinite sadness. "You were right," he replied simply. "However what is right is not always what is easy to accept."
"Indeed," Snape agreed.
"It is unfortunate that the child will carry such unnecessary guilt," Albus said after a moment.
"I'd have been the one to do it but I was bleeding to death on the floor," Snape responded.
"It would have been equally unfortunate for you to carry the guilt, Severus."
"Perhaps I deserved the guilt," Snape countered. He raised his hand to silence Dumbledore before the older man could respond. "No, Albus, don't bother. Let us leave it there and move on."
Dumbledore nodded, resigned to the younger man's attitude and paid close attention as Snape began to detail the Chord and it's powers. It could never be used, but it was valuable information nonetheless.
Hermione, for her part, went straight to her room and sprawled on her bed, trying to process everything that had happened over the past few days. It was not easy. She'd killed Dumbledore and McGonagall's daughter and fallen for Severus Snape. Granted, she hadn't really fallen for him all that suddenly. If she was honest with herself, the attraction had been building for quite some time. She was so lost in thought that the knock on the door made her jump.
"Come in," she called.
Harry and Ron barreled into the room and jumped on her. Hermione squealed and laughed, hugging them both. The boys moved off to sit at the foot of the bed facing her.
"So is everything okay?" ventured Harry. "Dumbledore said something about your music teacher."
"Oh, um, yeah, it's fine. I just found out that he left me a harp in his will that's worth a lot of money and there was a bunch of legal and logistical stuff to deal with. He passed away about a year ago but his estate is still being handled. There's no real rush because the rest of his family isn't money-grubbing and his affairs were complicated." Hermione shrugged and grinned. It was a partial-truth. She somehow didn't think that Dumbledore would want even Harry to know too much about Regina.
"Anyways," she continued, "I'm back now."
"You must be bent out of joint that you missed out on classes," Ron teased.
"I suppose I'll just have to work harder to catch up," she sighed. Just as silence fell, her stomach growled.
"That's our cue to get dinner," Harry said cheerfully. Hermione nodded in agreement and they all proceeded down to the Great Hall together.
Dinner was the usual feast and Hermione ate and chatted with her friends, sticking with the harp story. It took great effort, but she only glanced at the Head Table once. Snape caught her eye and his expression softened slightly, but he did not smile. The encounter lasted only a split-second, but it made them both feel a bit better. Hermione remembered that they hadn't really arranged to meet or anything and she wasn't quite sure how to proceed.
After dinner, she followed Harry and Ron back to their common room and sat with them as they played chess. Both had curious questions about her harp.
"Well what does it look like?" Ron asked.
Hermione shrugged. "Dark wood, polished. The usual forty-seven strings. Very high-quality sheep's gut, actually." Ron made a face at this. "Blue-gold leafing on the baseboard with an absolutely gorgeous pattern that has musical notes and symbols woven into vines. Unearthly sound. Really beautiful. I don't know…what else? The column is fluted but pretty basic otherwise with the same vine and music pattern at the top."
"Wow," Harry breathed. "It sounds really nice. You must be really good for him to have left it to you."
"I think I just made an impression on him," Hermione demurred. "Anyways, I'm really tired—I think I'm going to call it a night, okay?"
"G'night, 'Mione," Ron replied as he destroyed Harry in their game.
"Goodnight, Ron. Goodnight, Harry," Hermione replied as she rose and left.
"You'll have to play for us one day," Harry called after her. Hermione waved her hand vaguely in response.
For the next few hours she waited, reading a book. He would contact her, she figured. She knew that he was hesitant about this fledgling relationship so she left it to him to take control of their first meeting. Besides, Severus Snape was not known for being shy.
At midnight, she finally faced the fact that he wasn't coming. For almost a half-hour, she berated herself for being such a fool; her anger and humiliation erased the memory of his assurances and affection from her mind. Determined not to stew, she left her room and hurried stealthily to the Room of Requirement. For a moment she considered whether she wanted a Snape-shaped punching bag or a harp sad enough to make angels cry. She settled on the harp. Her anger had been swept away by fear and sadness and rejection.
Hermione opened the door and stepped into the room. It was pitch black and empty but for the harp and a chair sitting in the middle illuminated by an unseen spotlight. She walked over and caressed the harp lovingly and sadly before sitting down and pulling it to her shoulders. Then she closed her eyes and began to play.
The anger washed through her first and she played a Rachmaninoff arrangement—rare to find in harpistry and one that she'd actually created herself. Her hands played fast, making the delicate but powerful instrument in her hands scream her anguish. Hermione let it pour through her, emotions intermingling into a confused, chaotic swirl. Anger that he'd lied; anger that he didn't love her; anger that she'd stupidly believed that he could love her when all evidence pointed to the contrary. After all, even her own bloody parents couldn't love her! Her friends only liked her because she was the brains of the operation. Albus Dumbledore might've liked her but after she'd blown his daughter to hell, it was pretty bloody unlikely. There it was. She hadn't killed a Death Eater, she hadn't obliterated Voldemort himself: she'd killed someone's daughter, someone's lover, someone's student. A woman who'd been so consumed by her own gift and drive that even her father didn't grieve for her. Your father wouldn't grieve for you, pointed out a traitorous voice in her head. Neither would your mother. Your friends would grieve for the loss of their chance at passing school. Severus wouldn't grieve for you. Only Vasili would have grieved for you but he's dead isn't he? You're a damned fool for thinking someone could love you, you pathetic twit. No one grieved for the woman Regina might have been, not even you, and you're the one that killed her. You twisted bitch.
At that, she gave voice to the scream within her.
Severus, meanwhile, was a bit more patient. He gave up on Hermione at half-past midnight and decided to take matters into his own hands. He flooed to her quarters to find them empty. Mystified, he glanced around her chambers for any sort of a clue as to where she might be. Doubt began to creep into him. After all, he was a greasy ex-Death Eater who was hated by at least niney-nine percent of the wizarding world. It was rather silly to think that someone like Hermione Granger could possibly have any interest in him, wasn't it? He noted as he pondered that her covers were a bit mussed, as though she'd been laying atop them, and a book lay on the bed with a bookmark next to it. That indicated that she'd left quickly and not bothered to mark her place.
Severus frowned as he flooed back to his own quarters and entered the hallways. The simplest solution would be to find her. He rather suspected that he knew where she had gone. He tried to reserve judgment until he had a chance to speak to her but his mind insistently formulated the angry, cold, cutting words that would slice to her core and make her rue the day she had entered Hogwarts. He didn't deserve love or affection or happiness but he was damned well tired of other people rudely reminding him of that fact. He was tired of being reminded that he was unattractive and repugnant despite being a war hero and a generally accepted Good Man. He would have been content in his quiet life at Hogwarts, having experienced fame and adoration and realizing that he was better suited to solitude and intellectual pursuits, but she had felt the need to burrow under his skin.
As he strode toward the Room of Requirement he forced himself to be honest: he'd wanted her to breach his walls and end his period of solitude. He loved her; it really was that simple. But Severus Snape had not lived this long without having a well-developed sense of self-preservation. It would take a lot of time and a LOT of whiskey, but he'd get over her one day.
At this, he realized that he was seriously jumping the gun, so to speak. She was quite probably overwhelmed and upset and they hadn't agreed upon a meeting tonight so he was letting his morbid imagination run away with him. He allowed himself a sardonic smile at his own silliness as he cast a charm to see the door to the Room. He let himself in quietly and was shocked into stillness at what he saw.
Hermione was playing a slower, softer song that seemed to speak of an infinite sadness. She was crying uncontrollably, eyes closed as she played almost unconsciously. The tune was hopeless and tragic and spoke of the unparalleled pain of knowing what happiness was but never having experienced it. It spoke of love seen but never felt. It spoke of a fantasy life of joy juxtaposed with a jaded existence filled with death and apathy. It was despair given voice.
Severus saw her entire body shaking and it snapped him into action. He strode to her and pushed the harp away with a feat of impressive strength. The instrument fell and cracked, column and baseboard splintering harshly but he paid it no mind. He pulled Hermione into his arms as he knelt and she fell against him, pulling them both to the floor. They sat there silently but for her sobbing and his gentle, soothing words. Severus shifted her properly into his lap and let her cry against him as he stroked her back and caressed her hair.
"I'm sorry," she whispered raggedly as the sobs subsided. He was confused for a moment and stiffened slightly but did not release her.
"I'm sure this isn't what you wanted to deal with," she continued. "I…just…"
"Hush, sweet. I'm here," he murmured to her gently. "There is no need to apologize. I adore you, sweet. I shan't leave you for any reason." His tone was gentler than any who had ever known him could have imagined.
"I know," she mumbled.
Severus focused on a fireplace with floo and floo powder and they appeared on the wall behind the shattered harp. The light extended to form a path from where they sat halfway in the darkness to the fireplace. He stood quickly and fluidly, carrying Hermione in his arms and strode toward the fireplace.
"I can walk," she offered, but her body was still trembling and Severus simply hugged her more tightly against his body. Hermione wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against his neck, breathing in the scent of him and letting it comfort her.
Severus shifted her weight and managed to toss the floo powder in, giving the destination as his quarters and providing the password before stepping in the fire.
Hermione felt the jolt as they landed in his fireplace and he stepped out. The sadness had subsided, leaving the dull ache of desire. She wanted to feel alive; she wanted confirmation of his love. She wanted to claim him completely, but what did he want? She kissed his neck gently, tentatively, and heard his sharp breath.
Severus sat on his chaise and forced himself to breathe and speak. "Hermione, sweet, what happened?"
"I just got overwhelmed by everything," she said after a moment, resting her cheek against his chest and listening to his heartbeat. It was strong and steady. "I felt so much all at once. I was sad and angry and hopeless…sometimes that happens, especially if I've had to kill someone. It seems to just mix in with all the other things in my life and wreak havoc." She blushed, embarrassed by her lack of control. For a moment she was sure that he would deride her but she banished the thought from her mind.
"I love you, Hermione," he said out of the blue. Hermione pulled away to look him in the eye, surprised by his sudden outburst.
"When I saw you in there looking so fragile and broken, I…I was afraid for you. It terrified me," he confessed with difficulty. "I would not wish for you to think that I did not care. I would never want to contribute to that pain."
"I love you too, Severus. I bloody well love you," she said fiercely, and kissed him.
The taste of her assaulted him and made him want to consume her. Severus wrapped his arms around her as her fingers tangled in her hair and she moved to straddle him. His hands stroked up her back beneath her shirt but moved no further, taking it as slowly as possible. Hermione, for her part, removed her fingers from his hair and set to work on his shirt after tugging his robe and vest open.
Severus caught her hands. "Hermione," he murmured gently, kissing her chastely on the lips. "Hermione, we should not move too quickly."
"I swear, Severus, if you stop I will be forced to hurt you," she growled. "I want this. I want you. You're mine."
"Yes," he agreed, "I'm yours. But I can wait for—"
"Well I'm glad one of us can wait but that's really not necessary. Now help me with this damned shirt." She'd pulled her hands out of his grasp and was attacking the buttons on his shirt once more.
"If you are certain," he said softly.
"I am," she insisted.
He stood swiftly and carried her to the bedroom in response. Her permission relieved him; her enthusiasm intoxicated him. He set her down on his bed and pulled her shirt over her head. He tossed it across the room and kissed her breastbone. Hermione sighed softly in response as she finished with his shirt and pushed the lot of his outerwear off his body. Another quick move had his pants around his ankles. Severus stepped out of his pants, toeing off his shoes and socks quickly. His erection was visible through his boxers and Hermione took in the sight of his naked body with a slight smile. He stepped between her legs and let his large hands caress her skin, feeling every inch of exposed skin before unclasping her bra and cupping her breasts in his hands. His thumbs stroked her nipples gently and Hermione let out a whimper as she arched toward him.
"Oh, Severus."
"You're exquisite, sweet," he rumbled. His voice was low and silky. She smiled brilliantly at him.
"Only for you," she murmured, pulling him down for a kiss.
"Yes," he agreed. His hands set to work on her jeans, sliding them down her hips and off her body. He tugged off her shoes and socks as well, letting his fingers trail along her skin. She shivered and his dark eyes glanced up at her, smouldering. Hermione was reminded of the moment in the car when she'd removed her sweater and shirt. His eyes were a slow burn, igniting every inch of her body.
"Severus," she whispered. "God, I want you so bloody much," she groaned.
Severus looked up at her and a smile graced his features. It was not feral or fearsome or smug or wry or sardonic; no, his smile was gentle and pure but somehow rusty, as though rarely used.
Once again his eyes darkened as he knelt between her legs and sucked gently on her inner thighs, marking her as his fingertips stroked the skin behind her knees. He nuzzled his face into her pussy and licked at her through the thin satin fabric of her panties. Hermione arched and let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan. It shot through Severus, blowing each of his synapses individually. With a growl he ripped her panties off and feasted on the hot, wet heat between her thighs. Hermione screamed as his tongue and lips and teeth explored her, alternating between possessive aggressiveness and slow gentleness. He stroked her with his tongue, steadily building the climax within her. Hermione's hands clawed at the bedsheets as she let out inarticulate sounds.
Finally she gasped, "Severus, please!"
"Please what, sweet?" he asked between licks.
"Make love to me, Severus" she hissed, her hands gripping his shoulders to pull him up her body. "Shag me, do me, fuck me," she growled urgently.
He kissed her as he crawled up her body. As soon as he was positioned over her he kissed her on the lips. He let out a ragged groan as she sucked on his lower lip, tasting herself on him. Hermione let out a breathless laugh.
"Severus," she murmured against his lips.
"Hermione," he whispered in return as he thrust into her. Hermione threw her head back and cried out. Her hands clutched at his back and her legs wrapped around his hips to give him more access.
Severus withdrew and thrust again, letting his pelvis thrust against her clit. Their rhythm evened out as Hermione met his thrusts. They panted and moaned and whimpered and cried out as they lost themselves in one another's bodies. After several moments, their pace began to increase and before long they had spiraled into their orgasms almost simultaneously, their cries echoing through the bedroom.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered against her damp chest. He licked the salt of her sweat from her skin and sucked on the side of her breast. "So wonderful," he murmured as he pulled her into his arms and swept the covers over their cooling bodies.
"Thank you, Severus," she mumbled into his collarbone. "Thank you for loving me…for making love to me."
"Hush, sweet. There's nothing to thank me for. Sleep now, my love. Sleep in my arms."
"I want to stay here forever," she confessed sleepily. "But tonight will have to do." She yawned and wrapped her arms around him tightly as she fell asleep. He kissed the top of her head as he drifted as well, grateful to the universe for finally showing him a bit of joy.
