Chapter 11: Apologies

Snape was the most complicated and frustrating man she had ever met, but Hermione felt like each time she was near him she got caught in his gravitational pull. Despite his personality flaws, of which there were many, he was still interesting, insightful, intelligent, and absolutely fascinating. It helped that he had been treating her like a human being for the last few days. Letting her stay at his home was completely unexpected, but she found that her second night there was quite peaceful. She was more grateful than she could express for a place to sleep and his quiet companionship.

They worked on his potion to restore vegetative patients all Saturday morning, but neither of them had made much headway with the many journals and books strewn across the laboratory. Hermione knew why she wasn't much help; she couldn't stop watching him. It was completely silly of her to be stealing glances at her former teacher while they worked in silence, but she couldn't help herself. The way he moved, the fluttering of the yellowed pages beneath his fingers, even the strand of black hair that continually slipped from behind his ear to hang beside his face, were all so fascinating she couldn't stop looking to save her life. Severus Snape certainly was a first-class mystery. There was more to her Potions Master than she had ever dreamed.

Harry and Ron would just die if they found out that I'm actually beginning to like Professor Snape, Hermione thought with a slight smile playing over her lips.

By that afternoon, Hermione was testing a few ingredients to determine their interactions. Two of the ingredients were ones she had never worked with before. The powdered Hippogriff hoof was a rare item, but what she had read of its healing qualities made it an ideal candidate for testing in this potion. If her calculations were correct, the powder would need to be added while stirring the potion.

She tipped the measuring spoon over the cauldron, and the light powder sprinkled over the bubbling liquid. A small portion of it scattered over the back of her hand. Hermione shook it off into the brew and continued to stir. Moments later she felt a searing pain in her right hand. She immediately dropped the stirring rod and stepped away from the cauldron, clenching her fist in front of her. Hermione's small noises of pain caught Snape's attention, and he looked up to see what had happened.

Tears of pain blurred her eyes. "It hurts," she said through clenched teeth.

Snape swept around the island countertop separating them and surveyed the ingredients in front of her. "Did you spill the powdered Hippogriff hoof on your hand?" he asked calmly.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and shook her hand in the air, trying to lessen the pain. "Yes, I think so."

"Lick your hand."

Hermione opened her eyes. "What?"

Snape rolled his eyes at her. "Saliva counteracts the powder. It will stop the burning."

"I'm not going to lick my hand! My tongue will burn! I need to wash this off."

Snape grabbed her arm as she rushed over to the sink. "That will only make it worse, Miss Granger. Lick the exposed skin. It will feel better."

"It will burn my tongue!" she shouted, pulling away from him. The pain was too much to bear, and it was getting worse with every second the residual powder was left clinging to her skin.

Snape held fast to her arm and bent it so her injured hand was only inches from her mouth. "I assure you that it will not burn your mouth."

Hermione jerked her hand away and struggled against his tight grip. She knew if she could just get to the sink and wash it off things would be much better. Snape refused to let go. She felt him twist her arm again. Suddenly the pain was only a dull throb, replaced with something warm and wet.

Hermione blinked the tears from her eyes and looked at Professor Snape. The back of her hand was pressed against his open mouth, and his tongue was slowly tracing the skin that had been on fire just moments before. His eyes were closed and his long fingers were wrapped lightly around her wrist and hand. Hermione tried to breathe, but her lungs seemed to be malfunctioning and refused to pull in any oxygen. However, she knew that to be untrue because she could hear the sharp puffs of air she exhaled between her slightly parted lips.

His lips lightly grazed her hand when he pulled back to exhale a long, hot breath. Her hand grew cold momentarily as he pulled in another breath before laving her with his tongue again. She wanted to kiss him, to rip his shirt until all those buttons flew across the room. The wanton thoughts disturbed Hermione, and she tried to push them out of her mind. Obviously I've gone one too many months without a boyfriend or a date.

Snape slowly opened his eyes to look at Hermione. She was embarrassed to admit that he most likely saw a heaving chest and heavy-lidded eyes. Crawling under a rock for the rest of her life did not sound like such a bad idea at that moment.

He slowly pulled away and licked his lips. "I told you," Snape whispered.

Hermione nodded her head uncertainly. "I… I didn't know. I've never used, uh, powdered Hippogriff hoof before. I didn't know about the… saliva."

"So it would seem." Snape slowly released her hand and stepped away.

The air hitting the moisture on her hand reminded Hermione of exactly what had happened. Professor Snape had licked her hand, and she had liked it more than was reasonable. "Thank you," she said simply.

Snape licked his lips again. "Yes, well, the next time I suggest you listen to me, Miss Granger."

"Yes, sir." Her voice was horribly breathy and soft. The sound of it made her cringe. Oh, what he must think of me! I was so dreadfully obvious in my attraction.

Snape looked uncomfortable, but he was trying to put on an indifferent face. "Perhaps we should adjourn for the day. I'm nearly finished with this batch here." He indicated the cauldron on the countertop that he had been working on that afternoon.

Hermione nodded and tried to will away the blush that had crept up her cheeks.

It was fortunate that Snape had decided to adjourn their research session when he did. It was nearly five o'clock, and Hermione's date with Robert, the Healer from St. Mungo's, was at six. She retreated to the bathroom with a change of clothes for a shower and a bit of freshening up before leaving to meet him. After a great deal of fuss, she Transfigured her jeans and t-shirt into a black dress with elegant straps. It fell just above her knees, but didn't cling so much that Hermione was left feeling uncomfortable.

She felt Snape's eyes on her as she walked into the living room. He had finished with his potion and settled in the living room with a book. Hermione told him that she was going out for the evening and would be home by ten o'clock at the latest. Snape did not say anything in response, but his eyes seemed to trace her movements until she walked out the front door. Hermione leaned against the wooden door for a moment after closing it to compose herself before Apparating to Diagon Alley.

Robert was waiting for her at The Culinary Cauldron, just a block down from Flourish and Blotts. He was classically handsome with his blond hair and chiseled features. She felt like he was out of her league, but he tried his best to treat her warmly during dinner. It was obvious that he had only briefly worked in the ward of St. Mungo's she was interested in, and during that time he had not see anyone even remotely resembling Snape.

By the time they had finished their entrees Hermione wanted to leave. Robert was nice enough, but she couldn't stop thinking about Professor Snape. She felt like she had been cheated out of a date, and it was no one's fault but her own. If she could simply push Snape from her mind for a few hours, she was sure that Robert would have been a charming companion. However, she found banishing Severus Snape from her thoughts fairly impossible, especially after the awkward moment in the laboratory only a couple hours before.

She begged off dessert and made half-hearted promises to keep in contact with Robert. Hermione doubted she would keep them. He was nice, but he certainly wasn't interesting when compared to other people in her life. She left him with a quick kiss on the cheek and Apparated back to Snape's cottage. It was still early in the evening, only a few minutes after seven o'clock, and it was no surprise that Snape was exactly where she had left him, reading a book in one of the living room armchairs. His lips were thin and puckered into a very sour expression.

Hermione sat down in the other armchair and folded her hands in her lap.

"How was your date?" he said abruptly.

She floundered for an answer to the unexpected question. "My date?"

"Yes." He looked up from the pages to catch her eyes.

"How did you know I was on a date?"

"Your attire," he said, gesturing to her dress.

Hermione looked down at the dress. "Oh." The silence was nearly unbearable. Finally she spoke up again. "I think I'll just get ready for bed. I'm feeling a bit tired."

Snape shifted his eyes back to the book in his lap. She knew it was his way of dismissing her, so she rose from the chair and retreated to the bedroom.

After two solid nights of sleep, Hermione found it nearly impossible to fall asleep at eight o'clock in the evening. She felt ridiculous even trying; it had been well over ten years since her bedtime had been that early. For over three hours, she lay awake in Professor Snape's bed and thought about everything – the past, her new job, her friends, her love life, the situation with her flat, and most of all, Severus Snape. He certainly was one of a kind, and not always in a good way.

She could hear him shifting about in the living room through the small crack left between the door and the doorframe. The man would not, or could not, rest for an entire night. For all Hermione knew, he hadn't slept a wink since she'd been staying at his home. It wouldn't be surprising judging by the dark circles beneath his eyes.

Hermione slid out of bed and slipped a robe over her nightgown. Neither of the garments fell below her knees, but the robe covered her bare arms and made her feel more secure. She cinched the robe and cautiously stepped out into the hallway. The dim light in the living room was visible where she stood, and it gave her courage to continue down the hall. It was silly for her to toss and turn when he couldn't sleep either.

Snape was sitting in the same armchair with three small stacks of books piled around his feet. Crookshanks was asleep and curled up in the second armchair. Both heard her when she entered the room and lifted their eyes to watch her.

"I couldn't sleep," Hermione said softly to Snape.

"Yes, I see that," he replied, sweeping his eyes over her night attire.

She wrapped her arms around herself self-consciously. "Do you mind if I keep you company, or perhaps borrow a book or two?"

"If you can extract your cat from my chair, you're more than welcome to it, Miss Granger." Snape returned his eyes to the book.

The chair looked stiff and uninviting so late at night. "Professor?"

He lifted his dark eyes to her again with a brow cocked in question.

"May I Transfigure the two chairs into a sofa?"

He hesitated for a moment, and then stood up with his book in hand. "If you insist."

Crookshanks seemed to know what was coming because he jumped out of the chair and trotted across the living room floor. With a simple swish of her wand, the two uncomfortable chairs shifted into a plush sofa with plenty of room for both her and Professor Snape. He waited for her to take a seat before he did. Hermione sat down on the end nearest to her and folded her legs up into the sofa beside her. The floor was surprisingly cold, and she hadn't thought to wear any slippers.

Snape sat on the opposite end and settled his book back into his lap. He attempted to read, but turned his head to look at her again after only a minute. "Are you going to watch me all evening, Miss Granger?"

"Would you be opposed to talking with me?"

"About what?"

Hermione shrugged. "Anything."

"As I remember, I asked you a question earlier this evening that you never answered."

She replayed her interaction with him after she had returned from the date. "You asked me how my date went."

"Yes."

Discussing her love life, or lack thereof, with Professor Snape was daunting and definitely uncomfortable. "It went as well as can be expected."

Snape closed the book in his lap and turned more fully toward her. "And how well is that?"

"Not very well," Hermione confessed with a grimace and shrug.

"Which one was it?"

She furrowed her brow in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Potter or Weasley?" Snape clarified. He seemed oddly intent upon hearing the answer.

A nervous laugh tumbled from Hermione's lips. "Neither. I told you before that the three of us are just friends. The date was with a Healer from St. Mungo's."

Snape raised his brows. "Not your taste?"

Hermione gave him a half-hearted smile. "Not really." Oh no, Professor. I prefer a pompous, black-haired Potions Master with a tongue sharp as dagger. Before her actual thoughts slipped out, she continued with the explanation. "I was bored and left before dessert."

"You were so bored that you left early to come back here and lie in bed, staring at the ceiling for over three hours, before trotting back in here to force conversation on me?"

"Yes, that's about it."

She almost thought she saw him smirk at her response. "I see. Well, how fortunate for you that I'm in such an… amiable mood." His gaze was on her bare legs, not her face. Hermione shifted and pulled her robe down over her legs, but he simply moved his eyes up to her hand on the hem of the robe. Suddenly he jerked his eyes back to the book in his lap and opened it again.

"You're looking much better now that you've been eating each day," Hermione said softly, lifting her eyes carefully to watch his reaction.

"Better than what, exactly?"

She frowned at him. "Better than you looked when I first began working for you three weeks ago. Your complexion has more color to it, and you seem healthier."

Snape snorted and flipped a page in the book.

"You'd look even better if you got some rest now and then."

He sighed and ran a hand over the page he had been attempting to read. "Rest is not something I'm overly familiar with, Miss Granger. I've had little of it in my past, and I don't expect much more in my future."

His soft voice struck a cord deep within Hermione. She wanted to reach out and touch the dark bruises beneath his eyes in the hope she could sooth them away. "It's actually fairly easy, Professor. You just close your eyes and let go."

"It appears the letting go part is the problem." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"The war?" she asked. "I have nightmares sometimes, too. Yours must be –"

Snape nodded. "Yes. They are rather horrendous. I don't care to speak of them, actually."

Hermione pulled her robe tighter around her body. "I understand."

"Do you?"

"I don't understand what it is like to be you, but I do understand your need for privacy. I apologize if I push too far at times. I – I've just come to care about you, and I hope you can find the peace you need."

He seemed genuinely surprised at her admission. His eyes widened, revealing the dark irises and the even darker pupils. She had never seen eyes so dark, yet so bright. She felt like she should look away before they blinded her. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and somewhat sad. "You're a very unusual young lady, Miss Granger."

Hermione gave him a small smile. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Of that, I am not sure," he admitted, returning to his book.

"Why didn't you thank me after I testified for you?" The question shot out of her mouth before Hermione had a chance to rephrase it or think it over. It took Snape by surprise as well. He fumbled for an answer, his lips moving, but no sound coming from them.

Finally, he spoke. "I was angry with everyone."

"But why?"

"I don't know, Miss Granger," he said, flipping the book closed again. "I hated the world at the time. I hated myself and everything that had happened." He sighed. "I was in shock."

"You helped us win the war. How could you have been angry with yourself?"

He caught her gaze and held it. "You don't know the things I had to do to survive, and I hope you never have reason to know. My self-hatred was justified."

"You were very courageous and saved many lives. I don't know if I would still be here if it weren't for you." She shifted a bit closer to him without even realizing it.

"Don't underestimate yourself, Miss Granger."

"Don't underestimate yourself, Professor Snape. You had a hand in saving the wizarding world. I always felt like I owed you a debt for all you sacrificed for us, for me. I'm Muggle-born. Had you not helped us stop Voldemort, I could be dead or enslaved now. I'll always appreciate you and what you did."

"Your gratitude is misplaced."

Hermione smiled softly at him. "You can refuse my gratitude, but you will never diminish it. I testified at your hearing because I believed in you. I wanted you to have your life back after so many years of sacrificing yourself for the cause."

He turned his head abruptly. "You truly are an unusual young lady."

"After all I've been through, I imagine that's right on the mark, Professor." A bittersweet smile lingered on Hermione's face for several minutes as she stared into a dark corner of the room.

"Does the past plague you as well, Miss Granger?" he asked, finally breaking the silence.

"I still have nightmares about it. What I saw in those weeks leading up to the battle and during the battle itself, those are things I'll never forget no matter how hard I try." She couldn't stop the tears from gathering in her eyes. Hermione blinked rapidly to clear them before they welled up and rolled down her cheeks.

"I apologize." Snape finally turned his head to look at her again.

"Why should you apologize? Voldemort was the one responsible."

"I played my part in his first ascent to power. I've always wanted to apologize to someone who has been hurt by him, but I could never bring myself to do so until now. The person was never right or the moment never came. You've paid the price and shouldered the consequences for the mistakes of many misguided wizards and witches, Miss Granger. You deserve the apology more than most."

Hermione couldn't stop the tears now, and she hastily wiped them away. "Thank you," she said in a thick voice. "I – I forgive you."

The corners of Snape's mouth lifted in the barest of bittersweet smiles. "Thank you," he whispered.

They sat in silence for several minutes. The only sounds were Hermione's sniffling and Snape's hand idly caressing the cover of the book in his lap. "I should go to bed. I'm sorry to have kept you up so late. You should sleep, Professor."

He nodded at her as she stood and retreated to the bedroom. Hermione spilled fresh tears on the clean pillowcase that night before she finally fell into a fitful sleep.

Author's Note: As always, thank you to Snarkyroxy for being such a great beta. Thanks also to Allyness and Jessica.