And here's my original chapter 4. Well, half of it.
I had to go back and write the current chapter 4. Then because of that, chapter 5…and because of them, original chapter 4 became 6 and 7…
Writing fanfic does teach structure ;)
"Merlin's nut, will you stop!" Ron waved his hands, not hearing her gasp, or seeing her reaching out for the wall to steady herself on the dark landing of Grimmauld place. "Will you stop disappearing on me!"
Hermione twitched a smile and couldn't pull out a full one. It'd been three days. Three, since she'd stood in Severus' sunlit bedroom, working up the courage to...to leave him. The ache of her torn her magic. The pain of it was raw. Still.
She cursed the vanished Earl's stolen codex. No doubt it was off to find some other poor virgin witch or wizard and make their life hell.
She rubbed the heel of her palm against her breast bone and hated the way Ron's pale gaze lingered on her chest. She held down a wince. She had been hiding from him...because she was raw and miserable and very likely a coward. His push for a...something had to stop. She had to stop it. Batter it into his thick skull. Though her strained nerves dreaded an exploding and sulking and grudge-bearing Ron.
"I'm not the witch you want, Ron."
There she'd said it.
She blew out a breath and twitched another smile.
He frowned at her. "What?"
"I'm easy."
He huffed and muttered something under his breath. Oh, she knew what that was. A comment on her lack of...putting out.
Her mouth pinched together and she glared at him. "Easy as in you've known me forever and I'm here...and well, I'm a bit of a challenge, aren't I? But we're not...suited." She did wince now. Her magic was in bloom, the strength of it chasing through her flesh and pricking her fingertips. It was the only worthwhile thing pulled from that blissful afternoon that would never see a repeat. "You know we're not right for each other, Ron."
A deep mottling of red chased over his cheeks and spread to his neck. "So...you've just led me on?"
And…he'd been gossiping with Harry. Fuck, she had to get out of the bloody house. At least taking her NEWTs at Hogwarts was only a few days away.
"All this time. Just playing with me."
His voice was growing louder and Hermione fought back the mortifying need to wrap silence around their fight. It would be easier if the whole house knew about the breakup in one go. She'd be the villain, of course. She always was...but if it ended Ron's relentless pursuit and everyone else's pandering to his want, then it would be worth it.
At least, he wouldn't be demanding she fawn over him at the Order meeting that night.
"No. We've shared one kiss, Ron. One. That's not a bloody life-time's commitment."
His flush deepened, something thick and…guilty and Hermione caught her fingers in the wild tangles of her hair. Fuck. Fuck. Her instincts were right. Shit. That was what the meeting was for. Him and an audience and her inability to say no? Git. Utter git to try and force her hand that way. "Merlin, Ron, that's low."
"Low? Low?"
There was a creak on the stairs. Yes, they had an audience, just as he wanted, but not the whole Order there to see her arm twisted into an unwanted betrothal.
"Low that I'd want you to have a home and a family?"
"And sitting my NEWTs? Taking an apprenticeship? Several, in fact. Applying to the Department of Mysteries? Becoming the Minister of Magic by the time I'm forty? Is that in your plan for me too?"
Ron gaped at her. "Minister? Why would you want to be the Minister of Magic? That's not a job for a w—"
"What?" She glared up at him. "A witch? Your wife? The mother of the children I don't even know if I want or…or can have?"
He took a step back. "What?"
And now all the eavesdroppers knew about her cursed ovaries too.
But…ah, there was his push-point. A Weasley woman could never be barren. The Healer who attended her after the Battle of Hogwarts had said it was possible for her to conceive...but it would be difficult.
Hermione scrubbed her face and denied the burn of tears. "Are we done?"
Yes, the Healer had frowned at her and sniffed. Something disparaging, as if defeating a rampaging Dark Lord was a complete breeze. Arse. He'd said she'd need a powerful combination of rare magics to heal her —her heart fluttered at the memory of the rest of his clipped, unfeeling words— and a strength that few witches held.
Gods…
Had Severus given her this too? A bubble of laughter almost broke from her. Did it count as one of her epiphanies? And not that she was desperate for children, but to have the chance destroyed by a bat-shit crazy witch, and now, well—
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Ron broke into her scattering thoughts.
What? Why was he still talking to her? "It was private."
"It shouldn't have been private from me!"
Hermione rolled her neck and dug her fingers into the growing tension. Ron could have a tantrum and sulk far away from her. Tomorrow, tomorrow, she'd hunt down a more open-minded and sympathetic Healer and find out what exactly was needed to fix her broken body.
She turned her sharp gaze on Ron. "Now you know. As does everyone else."
Hermione moved past him, wanting tea and to curl up before the library fireplace with a book. Find a quiet moment, let her mind, her emotions settle. She very much doubted the Order meeting would go ahead now…and would Severus have turned up if it had? He had seemed…dismissive. The rush of relief about a cure for her cursed body slipped away and the growing fear and ache of seeing him twisted her insides anew.
Ron's harsh mutter caught her as she stepped down the first stair. "You were too much work, anyway."
And that friendship was over.
Perhaps she'd mourn it later.
Perhaps not.
Git.
Creaks and mutters and the thud of boots on threadbare runners chased ahead of her as Hermione padded down the stairs. There was a loud thunk and the thump, thump, thump of something hitting and bouncing across the carpet. So that meant Tonks and Remus were on time.
Hermione wiped her hands over her face, wrapped her dignity around her and stalked to the kitchen. If she was channelling Severus, she wouldn't admit it. A pot of tea and a plate of whatever was out to feed the Order, then a well-earned retreat to the library.
Murmurs floated out on the dark passage that led to the kitchen. Damn. As with any good party, people were already gathering in the kitchen.
"And do you believe Miss Granger will appreciate your…prating?"
Severus.
Gods, Merlin, Circe and all her little piggy friends.
He'd come.
Hermione pressed her fist to her chest, willing herself to breathe. To be calm. It didn't help that he was defending her against the others. She pulled in a deeper breath. The Earl's codex had found her. She was a powerful witch in the making.
And she could walk into that kitchen and get a bloody mug of tea and a plate of savoury nibbles!
She wiped her hand over her mouth to deny a burst of hysterical laughter and pushed open the kitchen door. More laughter bubbled and she bit the inside of her cheek. Everyone was frozen, Remus, Tonks, Kingsley and Professor McGonagall, caught gossiping about her. Severus stood in the shadows beside the fireplace, indolent against the wall. His black gaze found her. Something shifted in it...but she blamed that on the flicker of candlelight.
"Properly Medusa, arent I?" Hermione muttered about the frozen witches and wizards, and her heart squeezed when Severus smirked at her.
"Are you all right, Hermione?" Remus offered a concerned smile and beside him Tonk's hair softened to a warm blonde.
"I'm fine, just need tea, a book and the library fire." She poured from the pot, splashed milk and piled sandwiches and savoury nibbles onto a plate. "It's for the best. Ron and me not having that 'and' there. I tried not to…" She winced. "It was always going to come down to a row."
"Hermione, you know why we're here, don't you?"
Remus twitched a smile and Hermione willed herself not to look to Severus. But she could feel his black gaze on her like a brand.
"Are you sure you don't—"
"And this is why we're here, is it, Wolf? To guilt a witch into an unequal marriage?"
"Severus!" Professor McGonagall snapped out his name and her lips became thin and pinched. "We are hardly—"
"Yes, I was aware of that, Professor." Hermione broke in, addressing Severus. She would not have him attacked for defending her.
A quirk of a smile pulled at Severus' mouth and his eyes shone with black fire. Gods, she wanted to kiss him…and the bloody man knew it. "I'm not your professor, girl."
"And I'm not a girl, Master Snape."
He inclined his head, his black hair falling forward in a shining curtain. "Indeed you are not." He pushed himself away from the wall. "And if this foul plan is undone, I will bid you all a good night."
Hermione's belly squeezed as she watched him stalk from the kitchen, McGonagall's muttered "Really, Severus?" following him out. He'd flirted with her, hadn't he? Gods, she was so rubbish at relationships. Not that they had a relationship. She was a shine to his magic. And gods, he had shone hadn't he?
And she hadn't fixed her gaze on his arse as he left…
Heat crawled up her face and she snapped her attention back to her tea and plate. "I'd appreciate privacy. I have thinking to do."
"Of course, Hermione," Remus said, but there was something in his voice and she held back a frown. Was this another of these new and obvious things? Remus was…up to something. Gods, was this why Severus thought everyone was a complete dunderhead?
But she didn't want to dwell on whatever scheme Remus had. She'd tuck herself away in the library and her war-time wards would keep her secure.
She escaped the kitchen and a suspicious lack of sound grew behind her. Let them gossip. She wanted a quiet moment to lick her wounds by losing herself in a book. One of Ron's gifted books would give her the happy ending she ached for in her real-life. The dark wizard there always wanted the prim little bookworm for himself…
She slipped into library from the ever-present darkness of the passage. A flick of a wandless incendio brought a burst of bright flames to the great hearth. Yes, it truly was easier. Simply...intent and her magic flared and obeyed her every thought—
"You were always a natural with fire. I have a ruined cloak as proof."
"Severus...?"
His magic caught the fall of her mug and plate and whisked them to the nearby table. Golden light carved his features as he pushed out from the shadow of an alcove. Hermione stumbled and he was there, his hand on her arm, holding her steady.
The ached-for presence of him burned. Her magic surged, desperate for him—
Severus' smile was sin itself. "It is time. Again, there is much for us to discuss...Miss Granger."