Warning

This story is not suitable for readers under the age of sixteen. It contains sexual content, including some non-consensual, and may offend some readers. If this subject is offensive to you, please do not read this story.

Chapter 21 - Anger

The walk from the dungeon to the hospital wing seemed longer than it ever had done before, as Hermione hurried to keep pace with Ron and Harry.

None of them said anything until they were more than half way there, but suddenly Ron stopped and rounded on her, angrily.

"How could you do this, Hermione?" he demanded. "It's Snape, of all people - Snape!"

She stopped and turned on him. "It wasn't exactly planned, Ron!" she fumed. "I didn't just wake up one morning and think 'Maybe I should start a relationship with Snape'!"

"But... how could you not tell us?" his face was beginning to match the colour of his flaming hair. "I thought we told each other everything!"

Her anger crumpled at his words. He was absolutely right, and it hurt. "I hated not telling you," she said, desperately hoping that they would find a way to understand, "but I didn't want to... complicate things... until I knew how I felt."

Harry was a few paces ahead of them, but he spun round at her words, and the fury in his eyes was clear. "And how do you feel?" he demanded.

"I love Severus," she said, without needing to think about it. She knew that maybe it was not the best time to tell them this, but she couldn't hide it from them - not now. "I don't know why, but I love him."

They stared.

"But he's... he's a teacher," Ron spluttered. "And he's Snape! You've always hated him just the same way we do. Or have you been lying about this for longer than we thought?"

Tears finally began to pour down Hermione's cheeks. "I did hate him, I think," she began, trying to explain it to herself as much as to them, "but I've always - respected him, too!" She wasn't sure if she was making any sense to them but she continued anyway. "There's something about him that I can understand and relate to. And he seems to understand me! We can talk for hours about magic and potions and - anything."

"Are you sleeping with him?" Harry's question shocked her in its forthrightness, but she couldn't bring herself to match it.

"That's my business," she said softly.

He gazed at her, levelly, for a long moment, then turned and continued towards the hospital wing.

If there was one person at Hogwarts whom students could trust not to ask awkward questions, it was Madam Pomfrey. There were few students in the school who had not made a mess of an 'experimental' spell or potion at some point or other, and Madam Pomfrey knew that requiring an explanation would make them more likely to try to fix things themselves. Hermione was not in the least surprised, therefore, when Harry's simple "I had an accident" was accepted with no hint of either belief or disbelief.

Hermione allowed herself a moment of relief at Harry's weak explanation. She had half expected him to tell the matron everything. Ron's look told her that he had been thinking the same thing. Maybe she - or rather, Severus - would not have been so lucky if it had been the other boy with the injuries.

Forcing her attention back to Harry, she listened to Madam Pomfrey's diagnosis.

"The wrist isn't fractured," she was saying, almost to herself, "but there's some nasty bruising there. The same for your knuckles." She released Harry's arm and turned her attention to his face. "Now let me take a look at that eye!"

Harry winced as he turned his face towards her so she could see him clearly in the light. His eye was now almost closed with the swelling. A crust of blood had formed just under it, where the skin had broken, and the whole area was darkly bruised.

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "Well, I can clean up the wrist and the blood, but the best thing for the eye is to leave it to sort itself out." She turned towards her office, still speaking. "A cold press will have the swelling down in no time, and the bruising will heal quickly."

She returned quickly with a cold pack, which Harry pressed to his eye, then she quickly fixed up his other injuries with a few well-practiced flicks of her wand. He flexed his wrist and fingers. The bruising had gone, and he seemed to feel nothing, and the cut from his face disappeared completely. Only his bruised and swollen eye showed any sign of the fight, unless she counted the scowl on his face.

Madam Pomfrey insisted that Harry wait in the hospital wing for at least half an hour, so she could check how the swelling was doing, and, as the matron disappeared into her office, closing the door behind her, Hermione braced herself for the new barrage of anger that she knew would be directed her way.

"How could you lie to us, Hermione?" It was Ron that started the new onslaught, turning to her as soon as the witch was out of the room. "After all we've been through!"

Hermione was about to respond angrily, but she suddenly felt only pain. It was not Ron's fault that he hated Severus - even she had to admit that he didn't go out of his way to be liked, particularly by Gryffindors, and particularly by her two closest friends. How else had she expected them to react? "I knew you wouldn't understand," she said. "I didn't want to lie, but I just couldn't tell you the truth - not at first."

She met his eyes and held them, but could have no effect on his anger. "So when were you planning on telling us?" he challenged. "Next year, some time? Or maybe when we graduate?"

She was about to answer, but Harry interrupted. "If anyone finds out, you'll be expelled, and Snape'll be fired," he stated. Hermione didn't want to think about either of those possibilities. He continued, hotly. "What if Dumbledore catches you? Or you get pregnant? Or the rest of the school finds out?

Tears were once again running down her face. "I don't know," she cried "I told you we didn't plan any of this - it just... happened."

They said nothing, and she found this to be almost as bad as the angry shouting.

She took a deep breath, and forced herself to calm down. There was no point in trying to talk to them about this now. It was late, and they were all overwrought. "Look," she said as steadily as she could, "let's talk about this tomorrow, or rather - later today," she added, noticing that the time had now passed midnight. "It's Saturday. We might have all calmed down a little after some sleep."

It sounded weak, but there was nothing else she could say. Nothing was going to make them forgive her, the way they were feeling now, so it was better to give them some space. She headed for the door, but as she reached it, she turned. "I know that you are both angry with me," she said, trying to keep her voice calm, "but I just wanted to say thanks, for what you both did. It means a lot to me." They said nothing, and she turned and left.

Snape froze as he saw Dumbledore stepping quietly into the classroom, then he turned and faced away, not wanting to look at him, or be seen. The headmaster's voice was quiet when he finally spoke. "Well, Severus, it seems that things are rather a mess." No reply seemed to be appropriate, so the words were met with silence, and he carried on. "I saw Mr. Potter on his way to see Poppy. I had a suspicion - now unhappily confirmed - that you might have injuries to match his."

The presence of the older wizard seemed to be having a calming effect on Snape. There was no loner any doubt that Dumbledore knew about Hermione and himself, and the knowledge was almost soothing. Whatever the outcome of this would be, there was now no avoiding it - no choice but to accept the consequences of what had been going on.

Anger seemed to be slowly draining from him, and he felt empty without it, as though it had been the only thing keeping him on his feet. Silently, he moved to his desk and sat behind it, before looking up at the headmaster.

He kept his eyes and voice impassive. "What can I say, Albus?" he asked flatly.

Dumbledore crossed the room to sit opposite him. "Tell me what happened," he said simply.

Snape sighed, wondering how far back to go, but he eventually settled on just the events of the night. "I came in here while Hermione was working. She didn't hear me, so I crept up behind her. Potter and Weasley were here under James' cloak... and Potter jumped me. He thought I was... "

"I see." Dumbledore thought quietly for a moment before continuing. "Until Halloween, I suspected this, but I wasn't certain. I thought maybe it was one of the boys in Slytherin, and that you were covering for them. Then I saw you dance together."

This was surprising. He had thought that their dance had been beyond suspicion. As though reading his mind, Dumbledore said quickly, "I don't think anyone else could see it, but I know your face, Severus. I've never seen you like this, before, but I knew from your eyes."

"I'm in love with her, Albus." The words came out quickly and unexpectedly, but Snape was glad. It was the truth, and he wanted to be able to say so. "I'm in love with her."

Again, the pause, and then, "And Miss Granger? Does she feel the same way about you?"

The answer came without hesitation or doubt, "Yes, she does."

Dumbledore stood and surveyed the room. The ingredients cabinet, usually stocked so carefully and neatly by the fastidious professor, lay on its side. The frame was cracked and warped, and the contents smashed on the stone floor. The broken shards of glass at the back of the room, and the thick liquid running down the wall, showed evidence that the bottle that had narrowly missed his head was not the first to have been thrown.

Snape returned the gaze unemotionally, as the headmaster turned to study his face, then turned away again, shaking his head. The headmaster began to pace, and the Potions Master waited in silence. "You've put me in a very awkward position, Severus," he said finally. "I should fire you. I have no doubt about that."

"Then fire me," the voice was cold. "I wouldn't want to feel that I was here because of loyalty or friendship. You wouldn't be being fair on yourself, to do that."

Hearing anger in Dumbledore's voice was unexpected, but there was definitely a hint of it as he spoke, "That's not it," he said quickly. "If this were anyone but Hermione Granger, the decision would have been made, and we wouldn't be having this conversation."

This was not what Snape had been expecting. He listened as Dumbledore continued.

"Miss Granger is - different from the other students. She has a level of maturity that I don't recall seeing in one so young, for many years, and her magic could challenge many fully trained witches and wizards. Any other girl, and I might have assumed a childish crush on a teacher, or a susceptible mind, easily led. But Miss Granger knows her own mind and would not be swayed unless her feelings were real, and I have to accept that. With the respect that I have for her, I would be doing her a great injustice to presume anything else." He stopped pacing, and turned to the man behind the desk. The anger was muted, but unmistakable now. "But that doesn't mean that I have to like it, Severus! You should have controlled yourself. You both should!"

Snape had no idea whether the headmaster knew how their relationship had started, but whether he knew or not, he was right about the control. But not Hermione's. He was the only one who had behaved badly in any way, and none of the blame should be on her. "Hermione has done nothing wrong," he said, his voice dangerously soft.

Dumbledore studied his face closely, then, "As you wish."

The sound of the door creaking open in the silence seemed to break the tension.

"Severus - ," Hermione stopped as she saw Dumbledore turning towards her. She was about to make an excuse, but saw her lover's hand reach out to her, and she moved across the room to take it. Clearly, the headmaster knew, and there was no need for pretense.

"Professor Snape - Severus - and I were just having a chat, Miss Granger," his voice was kind and soft, although she had the distinct impression that their 'chat' had been far from it. "I understand that you are in love!"

This statement came as quite a surprise to her, coming from Dumbledore - how much detail had this chat gone into, exactly, she wondered - but she smiled at it. Gripping Severus' hand as she reached his desk, she brought it up to her lips and kissed the knuckles. "Yes, Professor Dumbledore. Very much."

He seemed resigned to this, but clearly had to say his piece. "I will be honest with you, Miss Granger - if you were any other student, I would have serious concerns about this." His eyes were firmly fixed on hers. "As I told you before, I cannot approve, but," he sighed, "I will not interfere."

He gazed at the pair of them for a moment longer, then turned towards the door. Before leaving, he stopped. "I must warn you both that if this becomes public knowledge, I may have no choice but to change my position on this subject," he said softly. "I bid you both goodnight," and he was gone.

Severus' head slumped forward as he sat behind his desk. Hermione reached out to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and drew his trembling body against her chest.