Ch 8

"Alice: How long is forever?

White Rabbit: Sometimes, just one second."

-Lewis Caroll

Severus POV

One would think brewing a potion that could save someone's life and aid in the downfall of a tyrant would be exciting.

But instead, it was slow and tedious.

Severus should have expected that. His life was full of disappointments, and nothing about his life had been normal. Not his childhood, not his teenage years, and not even his adult years were plagued by normalcy. His childhood was fueled by fear of his father. Humiliation by his classmates fueled his teenage years. And his adult years were fueled by secrecy as he acted as a spy. And the years that fitted in between were fueled by judgement.

When he began his masters in Potions, the dark mark had already been burned into his skin. There wasn't too much stigma around it. Compared to after the war, when even the word dark mark evoked fear in every single person in Britain. But still, people were hesitant when sides were being drawn, even if most potion masters were neutral.

It wasn't difficult for Severus Snape to find a master willing to apprentice him in potions. Still, it seemed slightly pointless to enter a four-year contract to spend the first two years going over theory he had already corrected. And the last two years of an apprenticeship would be spent developing and creating one's own potions, which he already had experience with. No, it was easier to go about it on his own than face several barriers.

It wasn't unheard of. Just difficult to gain a master's through independent means. One had to develop six new potions and gain approval through the potions board. It helped at the time that his experiments were financed by the Dark Lord and that Lucius had connections in all matters at the Ministry. He gained the title of master at twenty-one and was soon after employed at Hogwarts.

The freedom of experimentation was something he missed during his years as a teacher. Originally teaching was supposed to be a temporary placement in order to finance his potions, but that didn't go according to plan since sixteen years later, he was still cast at the school.

If it wasn't for the time-sensitive nature involved with his experiment, he would have been thrilled at the challenge. But trying to create a cure for Potter to separate him from the Horcrux was proving to be quite difficult.

Hence how he found himself once again so close to Hermione. The two of them were spending all of their available time trying to come up with a solution. Hermione may not be a potions master, but she was skilled at the art of research. Not to mention her arithmetic skills. And, of course, there was no way she would ever simply stand back when her best friend's life was at risk. No, she, of course, was right in the middle of things, which was constantly by Severus' side.

Most people would be thrilled to have assistance on such a daunting task, especially when their companion was so clever and useful. And yet it was somehow worse with her by his side. She helped him past each step during the developmental and was instrumental. There was no doubt about it. But she also distracted him.

Things were worse for him after their argument.

It took him several attempts in order to talk about what had occurred.

It was his own fault. He could admit that. He had started them on this path, and now he had to be the one to fix it. She had taken a leaf out of his book and originally tried to avoid any conversation that deviated from academics and the war. And when they were working on the potion, she would resort to the silent treatment instead of the absentminded and yet riveting conversation the two of them usually shared.

But one day, he had enough. He needed her. He called out her name, but she simply ignored him and made her way to leave. He grabbed her wrist when she tried to walk past him and gently turned her to him. Despite his height looming over her, she made no move to look up and face him. She simply huffed and avoided eye contact.

Now more than ever, he blamed his lack of social skills. Any decent man, or human being for that matter, would simply apologise. But not him. He didn't apologise for his actions. Nor did he attempt to explain them. But he could express, to the best of his limited ability, what she meant to him without revealing the depth of his feelings.

"I hope…You must realise that I wouldn't have been able to do this without you." He wasn't technically lying, nor was he stretching the truth. He was reasonably certain that he could have managed even without her assistance, but he certainly would have been worse for wear. And what was left of his sanity would have indeed been gone by now if it wasn't for her.

"I have never truly said it, but I am truly grateful that you are here, Hermione."

At the sound of her name, her eyes snapped up to meet him. For the first time in over a week, she had looked him in the eye, and they were honest with each other.

"I like it when you call me by my name. You should do it more often. No more Miss Granger when we are together." It was only then he realised that his hand still encased her wrist. He could feel the warmth of his skin, despite being partially obscured by her sleeve. Only when she looked down and took proper notice of their contact did he withdraw his hand. Folding them behind his back. Trying to reign in his control and reserve. And only to partially resist the urge to touch her again.

"I think I can manage that without fumbling it up." Too much. No doubt he was going to make several mistakes and upset her during their upcoming conversations. But unlike in his conversations with others, he would not be doing it on purpose. He was trying to be better. And had been better at talking and being honest when he was with her. Though it may have had more to do with her being such an easy person to talk to. She had a calm presence about her that, if he wasn't careful, he could easily spill all of his darkest secrets to her. But he wasn't ready for that. Yet.

"Are you sure? You might slip up a few times. Luckily I am extremely patient and can be quite forgiving when I am in the mood." A teasing smile graced her face.

"Then, hopefully, I can find a place in your good graces."

She shook her head back and forth, almost in disbelief. "You already are. But whether you will remain there still remains to be seen. I look forward to finding out."

"As do I." He had to repress the urge to smile. He was surprised that she forgave him so quickly, and yet somehow, he knew that she would forgive him. For some reason, she saw the good in him and was willing to give him a second chance.

Though he wasn't always sure, he deserved it. Especially now that her second chance had given him the opportunity to continue to think of her inappropriately while in close proximity. As if he wasn't already suffering enough from his life in general. But now, he had to deal with the temptation that was Hermione Granger, knowing full well that he could never have her in the way he desired.

After that their partnership had resumed. And he was left falling harder for her more than ever.

He knew that he missed her when he had distanced himself from her. But it wasn't until her presence constantly surrounded him that he realised what exactly he was missing.

He always enjoyed pushing her buttons, but it was nice to simply tease her and her to him without getting underneath each other's skin. Every morning he liked to do the crosswords from the prophet. Apparently, so did she, but she liked to save for when she was about to go to bed. If she took a mental break from their work and did the crosswords, he would sneak up behind her and drop the word in the conversation. She would always huff in indignation.

Shortly after they resumed their friendship, Severus was simply sitting when Hermione suddenly got up and started pacing in front of him. She was mumbling to herself and occasionally turned to him and raised her arms up as if he was supposed to understand her revelation. And when he did try to speak, she simply glared at him and nonverbally and sometimes verbally told him to shut up. It was peculiar and extremely off-putting. But since Hermione was about as intimidated by her as a rabbit, he had to repress the urge to laugh. He knew that she could be dangerous with a wand if the occasion called for it. But at that moment, she just looked adorable.

He missed talking to her, despite his dislike of socialising. He enjoyed being able to talk to someone who understood him. Not just personally but academically. He missed the simplicity that came with speaking with someone on the same intellectual wavelength as you. But most of all, he missed hearing her speak. The softness and sometimes breathless tone to her voice. The comfortable way her voice would comfort him in the silence, instead of being left alone to the voices in his head.

Just the image of her would be enough to take his breath away. The way her brown eyes would light up with both curiosity and the knowledge of the world. The way her smile would leave with comforting warmth and leave with him anticipation. The way her hair cascaded down past her shoulders in soft curls gave her a wild and untamable quality. The way he was absolutely captivated by the shape her face made. It was mesmerising the way she concentrated. She would lose track of time and completely immerse herself in her work. Her passion was on full display. Her brows furrowed, and she put the edge of her quill or her thumb to stop herself from speaking aloud and disturbing her focus.

He missed Hermione Granger, Which is so folly since she was never his, to begin with. But that wasn't exactly true. He had her time. He had her secrecy. He had her loyalty. But most importantly, he had her trust. Freely given.

And it was getting more difficult to remain impartial and indifferent while in her presence. He caught himself more than once staring at her from across the room. His eyes would trail after her. Admiring the way she moved and how her hair bounced along with her.

Luckily he had the potion to concentrate on. It was a good distraction as long as she wasn't pressed up by his side. Then he was utterly screwed. And had to repress the urge to both sigh in frustration and moan at the contact.

When she was so close to him, he could feel the softness of her skin. The urge to run his finger along her exposed neck when he was behind her was hard to ignore. The scent of floral mixed with parchment would creep into the air. He could feel the warm glow of her magic surrounding him and prickle away on his own. And just be overly consumed by her presence. It wasn't a bad thing, but it was intoxicating and often led his thoughts astray. But he had enough self-discipline to turn his thoughts away from her and towards the potion when they were working together. After that, when he laid in bed was a different story.

He was lucky that he didn't necessarily have to start from scratch for this potion. He had been researching on and off throughout the years on how to remove the dark mark from his arm. He never came close to finding a cure when it became apparent that he would need the mark in the future. But the basis for it was relatively the same as Potter's situation. The dark mark was a permanent mark embedded in his skin and had its own magical signature even though it was intertwined with his own being.

When Severus wasn't spending his time on the potion, he was busy acting as headmaster, then a spy and searching for the other Horcrux. Luckily the students seemed to have finally learned the art of description while they caused chaos to the Carrows. And for the most part, they were too consumed with them than his own role at the school, as for the Dark Lord. His frustrations over the lack of a dead Potter were made quite known. He was displeased on that front as well as with the existing Order. Severus came back to Hogwarts more than once with a couple of injuries. Luckily in the Dark Lord's mind, he was no longer a part of the Order and was constantly stationed at the school. It was easier for him to blame some of his other Death Eaters. Even though they were making an effort on the Potter front, there were still other Horcruxes to go.

Hermione was right that there was a Horcrux in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault. Severus had to come up with an excuse claiming he was dropping off the sword of Gryffindor, a fake one, not that anyone was told, to gain access. He saw Hufflepuff's cup sitting up on a ledge. But it was impossible for him to steal it when he was being watched by the goblins.

Hermione and her friends would have to break in to retrieve it. He wasn't comfortable with the idea of Hermione going near anything that belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange, especially a vault in one of the most secure buildings in all of Britain. Breaking into Gringott would be difficult to pull off. However, it isn't impossible. The Dark Lord did it in her first year. Severus had no doubt that she would be able to get in. But getting out was another story. Hermione told him not to worry about that part. She was going to handle the planning and the execution. Closer to when they knew they could get close to Nagini. Breaking into Gringott's would be made public; there is no doubt in Severus' mind that as soon as word spread of those three activities, the Dark Lord would immediately become suspicious. However, there was still some time before they needed to worry about that.

Hermione was lucky that she didn't have to come up with much of a cover for the boys. Ginny Weasley conveniently overheard Severus talking about the sword and some of the curious items he noticed in her vaults to one of the Carrows when she was serving one of her detentions. It was a perfect ploy.

Severus was turning the ladle counterclockwise. He had just finished adding 200 grams of eye of newt and had to complete seven sturs. Five. Six and…

"Oh."

Severus was staring intently at the potion. On the seventh stir, it bubbled profusely. But it had turned from turquoise to clear. Just as the arithmetic equations on the board opposite of him indicated would happen once the final step was completed.

Hermione had overheard him and quickly moved beside him. She was afraid that something horrible had gone wrong. He was in too much of a silent state to ease her concerns. But once she took stock of the potion and lack of explosion or melting pot, all she could do was say, "Oh."

She stood next to him. Both of them were staring at the potion in silence. He could hear her breathing, taking deep and steady breaths. Severus had half of his mind to turn off the flames before becoming too captivated and lost in what was sitting right in front of him. It took a minute before Hermione asked hesitantly, "It's finished?" Almost unsure if what she was seeing was truly in front of her.

"If our calculations are correct. Then yes, it is finished, and it should work." Somehow they did it. They created an impossible potion that, if successful, will separate the Horcrux from Potter and destroy it. Leaving Potter alive and mostly okay. They would have to test it, of course. Severus was unsure how they would go about that. And it is possible that there would be unforeseen and life-threatening consequences that would result in the use of the potion being redundant. But yes, the potion was finished.

"This is incredible," Hermione said in almost a whisper. "Severus, do you have any idea what you have just done? You have created a potion to not only save my best friend from certain death but to help destroy You Know Who." Hermione was in complete awe. "You are amazing." She turned to look at him. A beaming smile was on her face. She ran a hand through her hair before spreading her arms wide, almost in disbelief. "Do you have any idea what this means? We are another step closer to finally ending this. We just have to track down Nagini, kill her, and then grab Hufflepuff's cup from Bellatrix's vault. Of course, we still have to identify and locate the last Horcrux and then it is just him. He couldn't help but smile. Her excitement was infectious. Though he wasn't jumping in joy and bouncing off the walls like she was. He couldn't help but feel ecstatic. "But we are so close. Everything is coming to an end soon." She appeared to begin to become out of breath from talking so much. But nothing in this moment could dampen her spirit.

"Don't you see, all of this will be over, and you will be free."

In her excitement, she tripped. Before she could fall, Severus automatically reached out to catch her. He wasn't sure why he reacted. It was purely instinct.

His hand on her hip toyed with the bare skin underneath the hem of her shirt. His other hand was on her shoulder but slowly, as if without his control, it glided up to her neck, stopping just underneath her chin. He could feel her pulse strumming underneath his thumb. The smoothness of her hair tickled the outside of his hand. He had the urge to run his fingers through her hair, but he was too distracted by her skin. Not to mention the expression on her face.

She was looking at him not with shock, embarrassment or disgust. Instead, her eyes were blown open and her mouth partially open as if she had the wind knocked out of her. Or if she was in the presence of wonder and excitement. She didn't ask him to remove his hands. She didn't say anything, for that matter.

Nor did he. He just looked at her softly. All of that excitement from their accomplishment had begun to settle to a slow simmer while something else between them grew. The air around them was growing thick with tension and electricity. Their vision seemed to blur their surrounding environment, and only each other remained clear. A feeling full of hope and desire and something akin to love transpired between Severus and Hermione, neither knowing who it originated from.

This feeling emerged and bottled up in Severus' chest. Until it simply exploded. At the same time, he could see the fire in her eyes erupt. And they were both pulling towards one another. Craving and exploring the feel of pure raw connection between them.

It was cautious and exploratory. And damn well teasing.

He knew she was shorter than him by at least a foot. But it never bothered him until it became a deterrence when trying to kiss her. His hand on her waist pulled her flush against his chest. If he wasn't so consumed by the feeling of kissing her, he would have noticed the curves of her body touching him. She was standing on her toes so that it was easier for her to reach him, but he still had to lean his head down to ensure they didn't accidentally separate. Because now feeling her in this way made Severus never want to be separated from her.

He didn't plan to kiss her though he had thought about what it would be like to feel his lips on hers. He wasn't exactly pleased by how he reacted. He wished that he wasn't so harsh or that he devoured her. He wished that his need for her didn't come across as so desperate. He wished that he had been more gentle and slow. The kiss in his mind was too fast and rushed. He wished he had the chance to savour the kiss, especially since he may never feel it again.

He couldn't remember the last time he had kissed someone. It was at least five years ago with some muggle woman whose name he never caught in some back alley bar. But no kiss he ever experienced, though they were far and few through the years, amounted to how he was feeling right now.

The feel of the softness of her lips against his own. And when he opened his mouth to continue exploring her mouth, she gasped and moaned. He groaned at the sensation her reaction caused. She had successfully been able to shut down his mind at this moment. All fears, concerns and plans about the future didn't matter. All insecurities, doubts, and dreams about himself faded away. None of it seemed to matter or be of any importance. All that mattered right now was that he was kissing her, and she was kissing him back. And kissing her made him feel ecstatic, in control, desired. It made him feel happy. She made him happy.

She tasted of peaches, which Severus could identify from her chapstick. But underneath that was the taste of something soft, sweet and undeniably her. It reminded him of the subtle tones of sunshine and mint he could smell whenever he was in the presence of aramortia. All that was missing from replicating the brew was the scent of parchment.

He could feel one of her hands gripping his shoulder. Tightening her grip to keep them close. Her other hand grew more confident. At first, it was placed on his chest with her fingers caught in between his buttons, but then she moved it upwards until she was toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

When the need for air began too much, he reluctantly pulled away. Though he was pleased to see that she trailed after him before, until the distance became too much of a strain for her, she also pulled back.

He wanted more. He craved it. He never wanted to let her go. He just wanted to continue holding her against his body. Any space where air could come between them was just too much. He was relieved to find that she was responding just as much as he was.

He kept his eyes closed. He couldn't bring himself to open them. He knew that when he did, it would all be over, and she would have to disappear. Have you ever had a moment where you wished you would just stop thinking? Hoping that the world would stop spinning and just stay suspended on its axis. And just feel in the moment. Do not want to second

When he leaned in, he hesitated for only a moment. Thought that perhaps he shouldn't, but when she tilted her head up and parted her lips in anticipation, he couldn't resist the temptation any longer. Hermione had been telling him for months that he should allow himself to be selfish. And this was undoubtedly the most selfish thing he had ever done.

After kissing, they just leaned against one another. He didn't kiss her again. Instead, he brushed his lips against her forehead softly before pulling away and lowering her entire weight back onto her feet. It wasn't enough. The feeling still lingered, and he knew he would never be satisfied.

He slowly drew back and stepped away. Solely and reluctantly placing some distance between them. Never once taking his eyes off of hers.

"I'm sorry," Severus said breathlessly. He licked his lips, trying to memorise the taste of hers. Though he was fairly certain, he would never be able to forget. "I shouldn't have done that"

She, too, was breathing heavier. She shook her head, and despite the dazed look in her eyes, her voice was strong with conviction. "Don't apologise. It's fine." Her gaze moved down towards his lips, and he had to repress the urge to growl and pull her back to him and continue to kiss her senseless. "If I am being honest. I have been thinking about that a lot lately."

He closed his eyes and sighed. The words "It's not right" came rushing out before he could stop them. His eyes snapped open, and before he could explain, Hermione started to laugh as she ran a hand through her hair.

"You mean it's not the right timing."

That was an understatement. No, it definitely was not the right timing. Hell, Severus wasn't even sure there was a time or place for them. He certainly didn't mean that he didn't enjoy it. That was far from the truth. And though thoughts were telling him, she was recently his student and 20 years younger than him. That he wasn't good for her, none of it mattered now. Not with the way she looked at him.

The way her eyes were alight with fire as passion swirled between the shades of brown. The clear determination and resolve in her eyes and voice that said she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. So why care about insecurities when the truth was staring him right in the face.

"Exactly."

She perfectly summed up why they shouldn't start anything right now. "We're in the middle of a war. Our emotions are heightened, and you are cut off and isolated with only me to turn to. It makes sense."

"I know what you mean." Despite his knowing that this was the best course of action. To simply continue on as if this kiss never happened. And as though what it meant means nothing to the two of them. The part of him that hoped and yearned for more couldn't help but be disappointed.

"But," she said hesitantly, almost as if she was unsure if it was too much to ask. "If anything were to ever happen between us. Both of us would want to make sure that it was our decision."

He couldn't help the small smirk rise on his face. "Yes, we would."

He stood back as she made her way throughout the lab. She collected her effects and bottled up a single potion vial. It was untested and possibly did not work. There were still questions about the potion that still needed to be asked. But they both knew that their time was running out. Neither knew when the next time they would see each other again. And it was best that she had a vial just in case. She would be the one to give it to Potter after all. There was simply no way he could get close to him, let alone make him drink something he brewed even though it would save his life.

Severus felt a pang grow in his chest as he watched her make her way to the door. His shoulders grew heavy and tense with each step of the distance between them.

She stopped before she exited the room. She turned her head to look over her shoulder. He felt himself growing tense, but this time with worry. Does she feel guilty? Does she want to express now that she is arms away that she regrets it or that he crossed a line and made her feel uncomfortable? But instead, all of his fears and doubts vanished.

"I hope this conversation can continue when all of this is over." She bit her lip, and her eyes were both shy and curious.

He couldn't help but smirk and say, "It's a date."

She said her final words and left. There's no turning back now. Her footsteps grew fainter, and he simply watched as her back faded from view. The rush of the floo brought him back to his senses. She was gone, and he was left all alone. But he didn't feel lonely.

It took him a minute to realise that his smirk had transformed into a full-blown smile. If anyone could see him now, they would think he had gone crazy. But then it slowly eased off his face as he went over what had transpired and what it meant repeatedly. Constantly replaying the kiss and her words in his mind. As well as how he feels and what this means now for him.

A part of him was truly grateful for that moment. The selfish part of him. The other part was telling him to be a better man. The side that told him to be kinder and more considerate was screaming at him—asking him what the hell he was thinking. He knew better than anyone the power that a what-if question had over a person. And now, he subjected her to it. It was a horrible parting gift for when he died.

But did he really need to die?

There was no real reason why he had to, and the plan could just as well work without him dying. And yet, for the last several years, he was convinced that the only reason for the Dark Lord to die was for him to also die. But realistically, that made no sense.

For months now, he had been toying with the idea of what he would do if he lived—especially knowing that he stood a chance of being pardoned for his crimes. The idea appeared more appealing and ideal than ever before. He could finish some of his experiments and sell the childhood home he never really lived in these past sixteen years. He could finally leave Britain and travel as he always desired. Perhaps there was a reason for him to survive. There were things he still wanted to do. And now, some didn't seem so out of reach, so why should he stop trying.

It wouldn't take much out of him to keep a heavy and potent stock of healing potions in his pocket at all times. It wouldn't cause him much of a hassle to create a portkey tied to Hogwarts in case he ever had to abruptly leave a Death Eater meeting. It would be sensible and easier for him to turn around and run when he was staring death in the face. And live another day. He could do it. He had been surviving all of his life. So why should he succumb to death now?

His determination had reached an all-new high. And though he knew Hermione Granger was a part of his new fighting rigour. She had been adamant for months that he could survive and she could help him. It wasn't until he wanted to live that he began fighting for that right. He couldn't help but laugh out loud. Of course, she was right about him.

And once this war was over. Perhaps when he was ready, no doubt suffering from PTSD, and once he got a grip on himself, then maybe he could take a step towards her.

He honestly had no idea where to begin, especially outside the four lab walls. Most normal people would simply ask the other person out for coffee or dinner. A simple "would you go on a date" should suffice. Hell, he even said the words to her earlier when they parted. It's a date.

Despite his use of terminology, he didn't mean literally that the next time the two of them conversed after the war, it would be a romantic get-together. He said it as a promise. Saying that he wanted to have a date, was in his mind the equivalent of saying he wanted to live beyond this war. And though working together was a partnership, it could be inferred to be a simple contract between coworkers. He didn't want their communication to end when the war did. He wanted to continue having her in his life in some form once this was all over. He wanted to convey that there was a place for her in his life. And perhaps their relationship could grow to be romantic once the war has ended. But there was no place for it right now. It was too much of a risk that it could interfere with their work, And Hermione didn't need another secret to keep.

He wasn't an optimistic man; he knew that it was entirely possible that outside this room, she would no longer have feelings for him or their personalities would clash and drive them apart after originally bringing them together. But at this moment, she gave him a reason to believe that one day he could be loved. Either by her or maybe someone else. Though he hoped it would be her. And he was okay with that.

Next Chapter will be posted next Friday.

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Things are going to get intense.