Chapter 6

Even though he had made passionate love to the woman only hours before, Snape could not help the giddiness he felt holding her hand. It wasn't simply the touch of her skin. His curse was now a memory Hermione had managed to wipe clean from his mind. Snape could not figure out how he had gotten so lucky as to be the man holding that beautiful girls hand walking down the bustling streets of Chicago.

In any other setting, he would have immediately noticed the indistinct shimmer of the invisibility cloak just within the alley a few blocks from their destination. Instead, in his reverie, he focused on the supple hand in his and the small fingers wrapped around his own.

They did not speak during their walk. He had told her so much physically that morning and then vocally in the diner that nothing else needed to be said. Her presence alone was justly satisfying. He hoped that whatever god was hovering above was not toying with him. He remembered hoping so many years ago to find a mate as intelligent, strong, and confident as Hermione. Miraculously, his patience rewarded him with the real thing.

Up the steps, through the entrance and into the elevator, Snape had the odd sense that something was amiss. Thinking he was just being paranoid, he dismissed it. During the short walk to her door, he thought he heard another set of footsteps. Attributing it to the echo, he was sure he was being unreasonable.

As soon as they entered the apartment, Hermione turned to him and took his other hand, "I forgot to thank you for lunch, but it is your fault for rendering me speechless."

He smiled at her, "I have had some experience with speechlessness lately. It seems to be going around." He leaned down and kissed her tenderly. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Actually yes, there are four books in the bedroom you could go get for me," she said pleasantly.

He looked around at the swollen bookcases and said, "You are aware, they have a library where we are going."

She smiled wryly, "Well aware, thank you." Pointing him toward the bedroom, she smacked him on the rear and ordered him, "Now go."

Laughing as much in disbelief as in satisfaction, he said, "I bet you imagined doing that a long time ago." She just smirked and shrugged defiantly. The effect she had on him just by looking at him was otherworldly. He added seductively, "You wait until this evening. I will make sure to give you something to smirk about."

She blushed faintly as she turned and started flipping through the mail. He was walking through the living room, thinking he would love to tell Albus about that when she lunged on his back and toppled him to the couch.

Preparing to tell her that she could have at least let him turn around, he heard her scream from across the room.

"What have you done to her, you son of a bitch!" Much to his displeasure, the unmistakable voice of Harry Potter came from the weight on his back.

> > > > > > > > > >

Hermione heard a commotion and turned to see what it was when she saw Snape sprawled on the couch. Thinking he had tripped, she was about to laugh, not entirely sympathetically, when she saw the cloak fall to the floor. She let out a startled yell when she saw that messy black hair that she would have recognized anywhere and she was positively livid.

At the words "son of a bitch", Harry flew into the air and Hermione watched in shock as he came to rest in the armchair.

Confused but relieved, she ran to Snape who had already risen to his feet. Harry was struggling, his hands seemingly bound to the chair and mouthing wildly, but no sound was coming out.

"I didn't do that," she said to Snape with uncertainty, pointing at Harry.

"I did," he said, straightening his clothes before sinking onto the couch. He had an eerie calm about him. She could tell he wasn't angry with her, but she could hear the fury in his smooth voice. "What do you want me to do with him?" he asked her.

Hermione, still dazed and angry, sat next to him. "I guess we should let him talk."

"As you wish," he said as he waved a hand. Suddenly the air was filled with loud rolling expletives linked together with only a few other words.

"I swear…you're going to pay…let me go you…"

"May I shut him up again?" Snape asked her steadily.

"Not yet," she answered. The first words she spoke to Harry in over two years were, "Would you mind explaining yourself?"

At her words, he ceased his yelling as he adopted an annoyed scowl. "I was here this morning on the investigation."

"And you decided to come up and visit?" she scoffed.

"No," Harry said. "I was waiting outside to talk to you when I saw you leave with him."

She glanced at Snape who was being oddly quiet, but he looked to be content with spectating.

Looking back at Harry, she asked, "So you forgot to say hello when we walked by and thought that sneaking into my apartment and attacking Severus would be a good way to get my attention?"

"No Hermione," Harry said quietly. He had dropped most of the anger from his voice when he said, "I saw you with him today."

She sighed in frustration, "I thought we already established that part." Snape chuckled as she continued, "Are you telling me you followed us?"

"Yes," he said. "I wanted to see what he was doing with you."

"Escorting me around the city," she said sarcastically. "I can see how that could be a complex notion."

Snape chuckled again. Harry shot him a threatening look. "He's just using you Hermione!"

"And for what purpose would he be using me?" she asked wearily.

"You're lonely and he's obviously taking advantage of you," Harry clarified.

Hermione's eyes were slits, her ire growing by the second, "I'm lonely?" Her voice was pinched. She stood and looked to Snape who was watching her protectively. This gave her the confidence to continue.

"How can you possibly assume you know anything about me?" she asked. "It's been a very long time since you forgot I existed."

"I wrote to you," Harry said defensively.

"A letter every six month to tell me everyone was fine. That's splendid," she said as she paced to the center of the room. "Did you care at all how I was doing? Did you ever bother to ask? A person really gets to know their true value when they are so easy to dismiss."

Harry interrupted, "Hermione, you ran away."

"Six months later! Were those six months my punishment?" she asked. "Atonement for whatever sins I committed? Tell me what those were again Harry. I've never been able to grasp exactly what it was I did that was so awful."

He just stared for a moment before saying, "No one knew what to say to you."

"So they said nothing." Her voice was shaking, "I'm glad my suffering made their lives easier."

Harry groaned, "You don't understand. There were other things…"

"Like that girl a month before our wedding? Oh, I found out about her after the fact. Ron lied to be about that quite a lot as it turned out." Her voice was rising, "She comforted him. She made him feel smart. Good for him. That is still no excuse for you turning your back on me."

"We asked Dumbledore if you were going to be protected," Harry said quickly.

"If…that's comforting," she said with a sigh. "No one could find the time to drop a letter asking how I was doing, then?"

"You could have written to us," Harry said dramatically.

"I did, repeatedly, until I couldn't stand the rejection anymore." Her voice was getting calmer as she spoke.

"That's not what I meant," Harry tried to explain.

Hermione stopped him, "What you said speaks for itself." She sighed deeply, "This is pointless. Severus you can let him--"

Harry spoke over her, "Hermione, I'm sorry it all happened like that."

"You're sorry it happened, but you're not sorry you treated me like rubbish. You know Harry, sorry has to end somewhere." She glanced at Snape before continuing, "I'm glad it happened. If it hadn't, I wouldn't have discovered what it feels like to really be loved, the kind of love that hugs you when you're happy and holds you when you cry. The kind of love that doesn't care what you call it, it just is." She took a deep breath. "If it wasn't for all that hell you put me through, I wouldn't be with this man right now. I really should thank you for that."

She glanced back at Snape who was watching her with rapt concern. Harry was just staring blankly. She was tiring of this argument and fast.

"Look Harry, if you want to be my friend then fine. If you don't then I guess it won't be any different from before. Either way, just get out." She pointed toward the door.

Snape waved his hand and Harry sprang to his feet. He walked stiffly, picking up his cloak and then walked directly up to Hermione. He hadn't changed at all. He looked tired, but otherwise age hadn't affected him, although the look of rejection on his face was certainly new.

Suddenly Harry asked, "Tell me. What has he ever done for you?"

Hermione could not believe her ears. "Funny you should ask that question." She grinned unexpectedly which must have been unnerving to Harry who took a step back.

"First, he actually chose to protect me when he didn't have to. Then, he didn't kill me when I drugged him." She heard Snape laugh which made her giggle.

"After that, he let me see him naked." This caused Snape to choke and Harry to flinch. Hermione merely laughed quietly. "It was an accident…" she paused, "…that time."

She took a few steps away from Harry toward Snape. "Next, he let me use him as a lab rat." Again Snape laughed. "Afterward, he took me out to a fabulous dinner and a show. Well, it wasn't a show so much as a Death Eater attack, but it had been a while since I had a date so I didn't mind much."

Snape was still chuckling and that strengthened her beyond words. She continued, "Then he saw me kill a man and raged against him, almost killing him." Snape stopped laughing. "But then I got to undress him while he was unconscious, which was well worth it." Snape choked again.

Hermione sighed deeply and a great smile spread across her face. "And then he brought me coffee. I'm sorry Harry, but the rest is kind of private."

Harry turned wordlessly and started toward the door, sadness on his face.

"Wait Harry, I forgot to tell you the part about him saving my life at the Ministry and sitting with me in the hospital all night while you and Ron were out getting drunk."

Harry abruptly stopped walking and his body stiffened. He still had his back to her.

"You remember that part, don't you Harry? The part you both lied to me about ever since. I heard the rumors a long time ago, but I chose to ignore them because I thought you of all people wouldn't lie to me. You made me think Ron's rejection was my fault. You made me feel worthless, Harry." She sighed, "I just recently found out that I was worthless to you all along."

Harry turned to her, sorrow in his haunting green eyes, "You were never worthless."

Hermione felt a warm hand on her shoulder and turned her head to see that Snape was now standing sentinel behind her. "I know that. Now," she said quietly. "Now get out before I ask Severus to do it for me."

"This isn't over," Harry said, anger edging into his voice.

Hermione laughed with a sigh, "It is for me."

Hermione heard the door close and waited for the pop before turning into Snape's open arms.

> > > > > > > > > >

She was not crying as he had expected. Instead, she clung to him like the last remaining relic of a sinking ship in a vast ocean. As Snape held her close, he thought how daft the boy was. He also thought that eventually he was going to have to figure out when he had gained the ability to use wandless magic. He was also grateful that shortly after being wrestled to the couch, she had chosen that moment to scream because inadvertently fondling the boy would have certainly ruined his day.

"I must apologize," he told her quietly.

"You didn't do anything wrong," she said, her voice muffled by his chest.

He laughed softly, "Not yet, but the next time I see him I probably will."

She giggled. "I don't think we'll be seeing him for while."

Hermione finished packing quite quickly and they managed to arrive at Hogwarts shortly after one o'clock. They Apparated into Hogsmeade so they could enjoy the walk up to the castle. She commented during their stroll how comforting it was to know that even if everything in life had changed, that Hogwarts always stayed just the same. The joy on her face as she laid eyes upon her old school was remarkable, but he knew the renewed awareness that Minerva was gone punctuated their arrival.

They could see her white marble sepulcher set beside the lake just as Albus' artificial one had. Hermione picked a spray of flowers from the garden along the path and placed them on top, whispering a few words he could not hear. He had already said his goodbyes to Minerva before he had left for Chicago. Allowing her a moment to grieve, he stepped away to gaze up at the immense castle before him.

Now that he was well, he could return to teaching, but the thought frightened him horribly. Snape spent the preceding six years trying to heal, with the solitary goal being going back. Hermione changed all that. He would be kidding himself if he thought he would be able to stand being apart from her now. It would be selfish to ask her to leave her job and give up the life she had made for herself in Chicago besides her aversion to coming back. Perhaps she would not be so reluctant to return to Hogwarts.

That thought had to wait as Hermione joined him, her eyes still shining with tears. She took his hand and they walked silently through the gates and up through the castle. His old rooms were in the dungeons and it felt bizarre taking that journey holding her hand. He had never brought a woman to his rooms, choosing to keep what little personal life he had separate.

The small house he owned had been his parents. He used it during the last few years of Voldemort's reign of terror and during his self-imposed exile, but he preferred to live at Hogwarts where his only friends spent most of their time. The last woman he had seen regularly was an apothecary from Edinburgh almost a decade ago. Either they spent their time at her flat or he would take her to a hotel.

Snape had been fond of her and he certainly enjoyed her physically, but when Voldemort regained his body, Snape's focus had to shift to more important matters. Subsequently, her focus shifted to other men. Far from heartbroken, he had almost been relieved. He had not loved her.

The next few years had almost killed him. Playing both sides of the fence was not good for a person, especially when that included having to fake Albus' murder. The plan had been set into motion shortly after Snape had taken the Vow under duress. Albus contacted Slughorn and Snape took over the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The rumors of his longing for the job were greatly exaggerated. Albus had told him long ago of the curse and had started the rumors himself to perpetuate Snape's role as double agent. The students themselves expanded upon them until they had almost become the stuff of legend. The truth of the matter was that Snape was a Master of Potions and the year he spent in Defense was the longest of his career.

He knew after the plan was set into motion that he would not be able to return to teach, but that wasn't the worst of it. The plan was nearly useless when Draco had failed to trust Snape with the information of the Death Eater attack. He was ever so grateful that Filius Flitwick had woken him and he still felt a twinge of guilt for having to stun the poor little man, but he had been much safer that way. Snape remembered sending Hermione and that strange little Lovegood girl into look after him to keep them out of the fray.

That had been the longest night of Snape's life. After fleeing the castle and trying to keep everyone safe while keeping up appearances, he was utterly exhausted. He said his piece to Voldemort, deposited Draco with his mother, and retreated to his rooms at the castle, which Albus had bewitched only to admit a certain few much like the Room of Requirement. There had been a temporary outside entrance that Snape wished still remained as they traversed the dungeons. The students were eyeing them curiously, most of them never having seen Snape. That was a curious thought. As it turned out, Hermione had been his very last student.

During the year before his eventual resignation, Snape could not return to teaching, but Albus insisted on paying Snape his full salary for the trouble. Nevertheless, it was not an entirely free ride. Albus also insisted that he teach one particular student, who was fully aware of the situation, in private lessons. He remembered being annoyed, thinking the private lessons would again be for Potter, but his student turned out to be Hermione.

Albus said that she was far too advanced for Slughorn and that she needed a challenge. She met with him on weekends at Grimmauld Place and challenge her he did. Meeting every obstacle he gave her head on, she surpassed even his expectations. Without the glares of her two best friends and the threat of house points, he eased his traditional classroom demeanor. They were not friends by any means, but they had developed a working rapport that carried onto the battlefield.

It was at the final battle that he revealed himself to be firmly on the side of good, which brought vengeance-induced attacks from the other Death Eaters. Hermione had covered him capably more than a few times, more than likely saving his life. He took down the man who had sent the stunner only seconds too late. The tightening in his chest when she fell to the floor was enough to tell him that he had an attachment to the girl.

"Are we there yet?" Hermione asked in jest from his shoulder.

"We are there," he answered as he stopped in front of a large mahogany door.

"Thank goodness," she laughed. "If one more of those kids looked at me like a raving lunatic, I was going to start taking away house points."

"It was not you they were staring at, love," he said smoothly. "It was the tall, ugly man you were walking with."

She giggled, "Was he hiding behind you the whole way here?"

Snape laughed as he lifted the wards and opened the door, "You will please excuse the dust."

As they entered, he thought the house elves must have worked overtime. The sitting room was just as it had been the day he left. The light gray stone of the walls and a tan brickwork floor gave the room the illusion of depth. Two deep blue armchairs flanked the fire divided by a small walnut table. His bookcases were full again, meaning Albus had already transferred his things from the house at Spinner's End. The great oak writing table he had missed more than anything else from his rooms at Hogwarts sat against the far wall just as it always had. It felt mysteriously like walking forward into the past.

"That is gorgeous!" Hermione exclaimed. She walked straight to his writing desk. "Is this oak?"

"Yes," he said smiling. "Do you like it?"

"Very much," she smiled mischievously. "Can I have it?"

"No," he said firmly.

"Please," she begged.

"No."

"Please," she implored.

"Yes," he said quickly.

"Really?" she looked shocked.

"No," he laughed. "And now you are solely responsible for the most nonsensical dialogue I think I have ever participated in."

She smiled wickedly, "Thank you."

She turned from him and walked through the doorway into the bedroom. He shook his head, smiling at her wit and hoped his bedroom was not still in the same state it was when he left. In a rage the morning he left, he had successfully destroyed everything that looked like it might break.

> > > > > > > > > >

When Hermione entered the bedroom, she thought she could stay there forever. It was at least twice as large as the living area. Huge colorful tapestries depicting flowery natural landscapes covered the walls and rugs of various sizes in shades of white, cream, and deep red obscured the floor. Four wrought iron candelabras dropped down from the ceiling and were full of tall white candles.

In the center of the room sat a massive mahogany four-poster bed, draped with gauzy white linen. The bed itself rose at least four feet high and had matching mahogany steps. It was dressed in luxurious white and cream satin. At the foot of the bed stood a black marble hearth, filled with a roaring fire that she thought would fit at least six people.

"This is not my bedroom," she heard Snape say bemused as he joined her. "My bedroom was small, cramped really. This is like a palace." Snape was pacing the room staring in wonder. "I do not understand."

"That's something I never thought I'd hear you say," Hermione teased.

"That is the door to the bathroom," he said as he scanned the room. "Where is the door for the room Albus said he--" His face fell from vague unease to a smirk of complete understanding. "That dirty old man."

"You think he did this?" she asked at a loss.

"I know he did," the grin still playing on his lips. "I told you your flirting would get us into trouble."

"My flirting?" she defended. "You were the one using your sexy voice."

His eyes flashed wickedly. "Do you like my voice?" he asked enticingly, stalking slowly toward her.

"Yes," she smirked backing away, "but we still need to go see the Headmaster."

Still advancing, he said in the same deep timber, "He is not going anywhere."

As the look in his eyes intensified, she felt her heartbeat growing fast. Suddenly she found herself backed against the foot of the bed, Snape towering over her. He brought his hand up to her face and stroked her jaw lightly with his fingertips. "What would you like me to say to you?" he purred.

Heat was radiating from him in sultry waves of his distinctive scent, the smell of midnight rain right after it falls. Her breathing quickened and she felt a throbbing between her legs. She found her throat had tightened and she could not speak.

"I know what I want," he continued in that sultry voice. "I want to lay you down and run my hands across every inch of your body until you beg me to dive inside you." She could swear he was already. With every word, she could feel his hot fingers all over her skin. His eyes were ablaze with wanton lust. Her throbbing increased two fold.

"I want to thrust my tongue inside and taste you, please you, like never before." She closed her eyes. With every word she could feel it, feel him, but he was barely touching her face. Pulse racing, her mind reeling, this time she was sure she felt him. He kissed her voraciously, nipping her lip and pulling her hard against him. All thought was lost to the pleasures racing through her body.

She heard a muffled cough. Ignoring it, she focused on the wet heat between her legs and the hand tightly grasping her behind.

She heard another, louder cough. Suddenly Snape let her go and she fell back, leaning shakily against the bed. Confused, she was about to try to speak when she heard a familiar chuckle.

"I do apologize, but I need to see you both in my office." It was Dumbledore.

She heard the crackling sound as his head disappeared from the fire. Snape turned to her smiling wryly, "Sorry."

"No problem really," she said unsteadily. "I'll just change my knickers and we'll be off."

With a satisfied smile, he asked "Really?"

Smiling as well, she said quietly, "Shut up." She heard his gratified chuckle as she went into the bathroom--she really did need to change her knickers.