Written for Scratch That Niche 2022.
Borgin and Burkes' Reclaimed Prompt: A Butterfly Flaps Its Wings
WC: 6104
"Are you ready for this?" Hermione questioned Harry, holding the time-turner chain in her hand. They were standing a few feet away from the treeline, with the silhouette of the castle they had spent six years in behind them. Bodies littered the ground around them like fallen leaves, but neither of them paid any attention to the lifeless faces, all of whom seemed to be staring into the distance.
Harry nodded, his face stoic.
Hermione added, "You know we might not be able to get back here."
"Everyone's almost dead, Mione," Harry said flatly. His head was only a few inches away from hers. "There is very little worth staying for. This is the only thing we can do, so let's do it."
"Very well."
Hermione flipped the time-turner and spun it round and round, silently counting the rotations in her head.
Everything around them shifted. Colours blurred and the shapes distorted, converging and whirling upside down for a long time. Even though everything in her screamed about rules and that no good ever came from messing with things far greater than her, Hermione ignored the mess they were making of the timeline and only focused on the racing sand inside the small time-turner.
Finally, the blur of colours and shapes around them began to slow, and the sensation underfoot changed to that of cool grass and piles of sodden leaves just as everything around them slid into focus.
Harry ducked out from beneath the time-turner chain and glanced around. "The path to the castle is this way. It all looks the same. Are you sure we are far enough back?" he asked.
Hermione looked at him witheringly. "Of course I am. We're in 1979."
They had begun to move toward the path when a sound close ahead brought them up short. Hermione thought at first it was a wounded animal, but soon, a young man came into view.
He was on his knees in the dirt, his head bowed and sobbing loudly, with big, gulping distraught sounds, his despair obvious. The pair froze, keenly aware they were trespassing on a private moment, but then the boy raised both hands to his face and the curtain of his hair shifted.
Harry was the first to recognize him.
"It's Snape," he whispered urgently, tugging her arm, but Hermione had only seen the blood covering his hands and spreading over his sleeves.
"Harry, he's trying to kill himself." She tugged her arm free and ran forward to kneel before the young man. She firmly grasped both his wrists in her trembling hands.
"There is still so much time to fix this," she said, looking into a face that was at once familiar and somehow not. Her voice trembled and tears swam in her eyes as she spoke, "And I don't want you to go. I can't let you die."
"Hermione," Harry yelled, waving at her from between the trees. "We need to go!"
Hermione yelled back, "You go on ahead! I'll meet you at the edge of the forest in a few minutes."
Harry gave her a quick, reluctant nod, recognising that arguing with Hermione anymore was futile, and disappeared into the forest, leaving her alone with Snape.
Her hands still trembling, she yanked open her Mokeskin pouch and began shuffling through it. She pulled out a few books, potions, her two-way mirror, and some parchment papers, dropping them onto the damp grass carelessly as she searched for the Dittany. There was no way she was leaving Snape here. She had seen so much death. What kind of a person would she be if she watched someone she could save die?
When her fingers finally wrapped around the thin vial, she yanked it out and removed the stopper with her teeth. There was no time to carefully melt the wax that sealed the vial. She grabbed Snape's hand and dragged it towards her, ignoring his wincing and faltering breath. His eyes were trained on her face, but she didn't dare look up at him again.
Her heart was thundering against her ribs as she tried to steady her hands. "You're not going to die on me, do you hear me?"
She poured a few drops onto his wrists, and Snape hissed in pain, trying to move his hands away, as the potion began to work its magic.
"Who are you?" he whispered, his tone full of awe and disbelief. He squinted at her and tried to scuttle away. "Why are you helping me?"
"That doesn't matter," Hermione said off-handedly. Once the puckered scars began to heal, leaving only the dark lines of oxidised blood behind, she placed the stopper on the vial, gathered the scattered items, and shoved them all in her pouch.
"Promise me you won't try to kill yourself again," she pleaded.
"I-I promise, I think," Severus breathed out, trembling like a leaf.
Impulsively, she threw her arms around his neck and dragged him into a quick hug. He smelt like blood, fresh potion ingredients, and the woods, and his warm breath was gentle against the hairs on the back of her neck.
Before he could react (by most likely hexing her), she shot to her feet and ran after Harry, glancing over her shoulder at Snape one last time.
He knelt there, his bloodied hands limp in his lap, his dark eyes trained on her, and his jaw slightly agape. A vulnerable, almost human sight that burned into her memories.
Hermione looked away from him. Her heart pounded furiously against her chest as she sprinted through the forest to Harry's side. The ancient trees passed by her in a whiz, and she barely stopped herself from tripping over the fallen boughs.
They were on the most important mission of their lives; Hermione knew they couldn't be side-tracked, but the sight of Snape trying to kill himself had shaken her to the core. Hermione didn't know what had caused him to take such a drastic step, but she hadn't been able to stop herself from interfering.
She didn't know if she had changed the future in any positive way, but considering their whole mission was to change the wizarding world's future, Hermione hoped she had done the right thing.
Severus sat there on the ground, his heart furiously thumping in his chest. What had just happened? He had no idea whatsoever. The young woman—Hermione, his foggy mind supplied—had appeared like a whirlwind, saving him from dying alone in the middle of the woods before disappearing just as quickly as she had arrived.
Lily was getting married to James Potter; there had been nothing left for Severus to live for…There was no good in the world left for him without Lily. A thought he took as fact until now.
He had been ready to die and had been staring at his bleeding wrists with a feigned nonchalance of the knowingly damned, when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, a woman had fallen onto her knees in front of him, her beautiful brown eyes wide with fear, her dark-pink lips parted, and her dainty hands trembling just as much as his own.
He hadn't even seen her coming.
She was like a guardian angel with her halo of brown curls…His own guardian angel.
No one, not even Lily or his mother, had ever cared for him this much before.
Still awed by what had occurred, Severus raised his hand, twisting it from side to side to inspect it. The warmth of the hug—his first-ever hug—left a tingling feeling in his chest. He looked up towards the treeline where the young woman had disappeared, and his heart suddenly ached at his angel's absence.
A deep longing for something he couldn't quite name settled into his weary bones. All thoughts of Lily and her upcoming nuptials had, for a minute, vanished from his head as he slowly got to his feet. The blood dripped down his fingers onto the grass below, but now, Severus didn't care.
He wiped his hands on the sides of his shirt, his mind awhirl with ideas on how to find his angel. He had just taken a step forward when something crunched under his foot.
A broken two-way mirror lay half-hidden between the grass blades. Severus's heart soared at the sight. Knowing how to use a two-way mirror, he tapped on it once and said, "Hermione."
The image in the mirror changed to pitch black. For a moment, Severus thought something was wrong, but then, the sound of something shifting and someone panting reached his ears.
"...Mione? What if he doesn't believe us?" a distinctly masculine voice asked, breathing heavily.
Severus realised it was the same man Hermione had been with. He tried to think of the man's features but failed. He had been so focused on his beautiful saviour and the tears welling up in her beautiful chocolate-brown eyes that he hadn't paid the other man any attention. Now, he feared she was involved with the man; he knew he wouldn't be able to bear that thought at all.
"He has to," Hermione's unsteady voice said, barely above a melodious murmur, but it was enough to give Severus a ray of hope. Unaware that Severus was listening in on their conversion through her dropped mirror, she went on, "We'll tie him down if we have to, but Regulus will have to listen to us. It's the only way we can get to the Horcrux before someone dies. We can't let him give it to Kreacher."
Regulus…Severus only knew of one man with that name: Regulus Black. Now that he knew where they were headed, Severus whipped out his wand and Disapparated.
He had an angel to get to.
"May I escort you two to the Janus Thickey ward?" Regulus asked as politely as he could. He was tied to the armchair, yet he acted as if he thought he was in charge of the situation.
"We're not mental and you're being purposefully obtuse," Harry said, rolling his eyes. Pulling out a vial from his pocket, he waved it in front of Regulus's face. "This is the proof that we're from the future."
"Just because you resemble Potter doesn't mean you are him. You could easily have Polyjuiced yourself. You forgot to correct your eyes, by the way. Potter's got brown eyes."
"Spent a lot of time looking into my father's eyes, have you?"
"I only meant—"
A pop of Apparition and the sound of footsteps coming closer to the house reached Hermione's ears. She hurried to peek out the window and caught sight of a dark figure intently marching towards the door. She whipped around, her hand on her wand, and whispered, "Harry, shh…there's someone outside."
Regulus opened his mouth, and before Harry could Silence him, he yelled, "Help, I'm being held hostage by a psychotic couple!"
"We're not a couple," Harry said loudly.
"That's the part of the description you have a problem with?" Hermione demanded.
"We're not psychotic either," Harry added with less confidence, twirling his wand in between his fingers. "We're from the future."
"Like I said: psychotic," Regulus barked.
The front door banged against the wall as it was thrown open, and Severus Snape strode into the room, his eyes dark and shoulders tense. The moment he laid eyes on Hermione, he exhaled sharply and hurried over.
Hermione blinked when he fell onto his knees and grabbed her hands. His skin was rough from hard labour or chopping potion ingredients all day long, but his grip was gentle as he breathed out, "My angel, I found you."
Her cheeks warmed at the endearment.
Harry's brow was furrowed, and Regulus was staring at Snape as if he'd seen a Dementor dance the salsa.
"Um, what are you doing here?" Hermione asked, biting her lower lip.
This could get complicated. Not only had she saved Severus Snape from an early death, but he was now gazing at her as if she'd personally strung the stars in the night sky only for him.
This wasn't supposed to happen. They were only supposed to stop Regulus from going to the cave and getting the Horcrux.
"I'm here to swear my fealty to you, my queen," Severus murmured, his gaze not wavering. He tightened his grip on her hands just a bit to show he was being serious. "Please…let me stay with you."
A pin-drop silence followed his hopeful plea.
Hermione didn't know what to say or even think. She had assumed that she was always ready for anything that might occur in the past—she'd even brought back ropes and charmed Muggle handcuffs—but this was the most baffling situation she'd ever faced. Severus Snape, her professor, the man who had been killed in action during the battle at Hogwarts, was on his knees and swearing his loyalty to her.
"What's…going on here?" Regulus asked cautiously. "First of all, what are you doing here, Severus? Second, what is going on? Do you know these psychos? How? Why? What—"
Harry groaned and reached up to tug on Regulus's hair. "Shut up, or else I'll find a way to silence you."
"I thought you said you didn't mean me any harm," Regulus demanded, sneering up at Harry. "And let go of my hair, you heathen—"
"Oh, trust me, I'll silence you with my mouth if I have to," Harry drawled, leering at Regulus with a glint in his eyes.
Hermione grimaced. Harry had absolutely no chill; she blamed that on the Dursleys. Couldn't he keep his spontaneous flirting to a minimum for the time being? Merlin, it was like seeing him interact with Malfoy all over again. Only this time, Ron wasn't here to roll his eyes with her.
"Can we please focus?" she asked loudly, interrupting Regulus and Harry's intense staredown. She glanced down at Severus, who still hadn't looked away from her. Licking her dry lips, she said gently, "Severus, I'm not certain as to what you're doing here, but I'd be happy to talk to you later when we're done. Maybe see some professional He—"
"No, please, let me help you," Severus pleaded, clutching her hands to his lips and dropping a quick kiss on her knuckles. "If there's anything I can do for you, let me. You saved me, gave me a new lease on life—there's nothing I won't do for you. I'm now yours to command."
Hermione shook her head and pulled him onto his feet. "No, that's not necessary. Please."
"Just try me, Angel, please," Severus begged, stepping closer to her. He reached up and cupped her face in his rough hands. Gazing into her eyes and stroking her cheek with his calloused thumbs, he whispered, "Please."
Hermione's mind blanked. Severus had begged her not only once, twice, or even thrice. He'd said, 'please,' four times in a row. In what world did Severus Snape beg like the average man?
"Mione?" Harry murmured, drawing her attention to him. "What's happening?"
"That's what I'd like to know too," Regulus demanded loudly. "And will you two let me out of these ridiculous handcuffs? This is getting tiring."
"I think you look wonderful tied up like this," Harry said, smirking at Regulus. He bent to whisper something in his ear.
Regulus's face reddened and he squeaked in indignation, scowling at Harry. "You pervert!"
Hermione rolled her eyes at the two men before turning back to Severus. "Listen, Severus, I can't tell you what's going on, but—"
"I don't need to know. All I'm asking you for is to let me stay with you by your side. I am adept at both Dark and Defence magic. I know how to make the most difficult potions. I'll protect you, I'll help you with anything you might require, I'll lay the world at your feet if you just ask me."
Hermione's heartbeat sounded like a hummingbird's wings in her ears. Severus was adamant. Just like he'd always been in her time. Though the personalities of future-Severus and present-Severus were like night and day, they were the same man. And that meant they both had the same magical prowess.
He was not only magically strong but also loyal to whatever cause he supported. He'd be a useful ally on their journey to set things right.
She made her decision. "Okay, you can help us."
Severus smiled. It was awkward yet bright, and crooked on the right, one side pulling up while the other remained still. Hermione had never seen him smile before—she didn't think anyone in her timeline had seen him smile.
"Thank you, my angel," Severus whispered, raising her hands and pressing his lips to her wrists.
Her breath stuttered, and her pulse skyrocketed. Severus's eyes shone; he knew what effect he had on her.
"Et tu, Severus?" Regulus whined, tugging on his handcuffs again. "What's got into you? These two are insane."
"How many times do we have to tell you we're not insane?" Harry groaned. "Look, we'll prove it to you. I've got the memories here, and we'll use the Pensieve you've stashed upstairs in your room to watch it together, okay?"
"How do you know I've got a Pensieve in my room?" Regulus squinted at him.
Harry rolled his eyes. "I've been in your room, slept in your bed—although I must say it would have been much better if you were there."
Regulus let out an indignant, ear-splitting screech.
It was then that Severus asked, "Why does he look like Potter?"
This was what she was afraid of. There was no way he'd want to work if a Potter was involved. Still, Hermione sighed and explained, "Because he is James's son. We're from the future."
Severus was quiet for a few moments, leading Hermione to believe he was going to back away from her and the situation, but to her surprise, he nodded and said, "Very well. Go on."
She had been expecting him to have a million questions, but he was silent. When he still didn't ask her anything, she turned back to Regulus and asked, "Will you please just watch the memories? Believe me, you'll understand just what we're talking about."
Regulus stared at Severus pointedly. "Are you really going to let them keep me tied up like this? I thought we were on the same side. We're Slytherins—we should look out for each other."
"I am only on her side."
"Do you seriously believe them? That they're from the future? Don't you know you can't travel farther than a day in the past?"
"I modified the Time-Turner," Hermione explained impatiently. "It was necessary for us to arrive at this moment in time. Tell us, Regulus, where is Kreacher?"
Regulus paled.
"Did you let Vol—-You-Know-Who take him on his 'special quest'?"
"How do you kn—"
"We know everything about you, Regulus Arcturus Black," Harry announced. "For instance, I know that you used to keep a diary about Sirius when you were a child because you liked to imitate him."
"What? How do you know that?" Regulus demanded, struggling against the thick ropes. "Untie me this instant, Potter!"
"I spoke to your portrait," Harry said, grinning at him.
"Why in Merlin's name would my portrait tell you that? That's one of my most embarrassing secrets!"
"And that you're scared of spiders," Harry went on.
"Don't even mention those hairy beasts!"
"And that you were six when you stole your mother's precious tea kettle to scoop dog shit off the ground, and you didn't even clean it before returning it to its rightful place."
Regulus gawked at Harry before snapping, "Why would I even tell you that? That's—that's private!"
"Face it, Reggie. I know everything about you. Your portrait used to watch me wan—"
"Okay, that's enough, Harry," Hermione interrupted. She did not want to know what else he and Regulus had done in their time.
"All I'm saying is that you can trust us—trust that we're here to save the world," Harry finished. Crouching in between Regulus's legs, he placed his hands on Regulus's knees and said, "Take a chance on me."
Hermione was tempted to correct him by saying, 'us,' but she remained quiet, waiting for Regulus to respond.
Everything now rested on Regulus Black's shoulders.
After a few minutes of contemplation, he sighed and nodded. "Fine, I'll believe you but only because I want to keep my eye on you, Potter."
"I wouldn't mind you keeping your hands on me either," Harry teased, obviously trying to lighten the situation.
"You're absolutely disgusting," Regulus grumbled. "Now, let me out of these bonds."
Harry's face scrunched up as if he were about to say something stupid again, so Hermione stepped forward and cast a Relashio on the ropes, which fell away instantly. Harry bent to unlock the charmed handcuffs.
"Thank Merlin I'm free," Regulus muttered, getting to his feet and wringing his hands. He suddenly leapt towards the door. "Sayonara, fools!"
Severus whipped out his wand and cast a spell on Regulus before he could take another step. "Sit down, Black. I won't tell you twice."
Regulus gritted his teeth but sat back down, crossing his arms and ankles as he did so. "I could have escaped this circus, but no…"
"You-Know-Who will leave Kreacher to die on his quest," Hermione said calmly. "We know you've got a soft spot for your house-elf, so will you still leave?"
Regulus blanched. "What are you talking about?"
"Call Kreacher to you right now, and he'll tell you he was in a cave and was forced to drink a potion."
Regulus's eyes narrowed as he stared at Hermione. Finally, he called out, "Kreacher!"
A few minutes passed by, and there was no sign of the house-elf. Regulus's hands began to tremble just before a quiet pop announced Kreacher's arrival. The bloodied house-elf collapsed near Regulus's feet, gasping for breath. Regulus gasped and scooped Kreacher up, shaking the elf like a ragdoll to keep him awake. "Kreacher, Kreacher, what happened? Who did this to you?"
Kreacher coughed, and his head lolled to the side as he gazed up at Regulus with an unfocused stare. "Kreacher sorry…couldn't come…"
"It's okay, Kreacher. Just tell me what happened," Regulus ordered.
"Dark Lord…took Kreacher…to dark cave…It was…horrible…Kreacher had to drink—" He shuddered and gagged, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as blood began trickling out of the corner of his mouth.
"Let me look at him," Severus said, striding over with his wand held aloft. Regulus quickly lowered Kreacher onto the chair and allowed Severus to inspect him. Severus muttered, "He drank a Draught of Living Death; it's poisonous to house-elves. Fortunately, you summoned him just in time. Go get me a bezoar."
Harry trudged over to Hermione's side and stood to watch the two Slytherins talk in hushed tones. Harry nudged Hermione with his elbow and murmured, "You think he'll finally believe us?"
"He has to."
Hermione couldn't look away from Severus's nimble fingers as they trailed over Kreacher's bald head while he murmured Healing spells. She absentmindedly imagined what Severus's hands would feel like dancing over her skin. Would they be cold or warm? Gentle or rough? Would he be able to wrap his hands all the way around her waist? What would he look like as his fingers—
"Earth to Mione: come in, Mione," Harry called, waving his hand in front of her face. "Lost in thought?"
"I'm fine," she muttered, forcing herself to look away from Severus's large hands.
Severus stepped back from Kreacher and wiped the blood on his black trousers. "He'll live."
"I owe you, Severus," Regulus breathed out, holding onto Kreacher's hand for dear life. "Tell me…How can I ever repay you?"
"You can start by believing everything Hermione says."
"You know I'm here too, right?" Harry asked loudly.
Severus ignored him and continued, "Follow her commands and we won't have a problem. Clear?"
"Crystal," Regulus muttered. "Very well, you win, Potter. Show me the memories."
"Come with me upstairs and I'll show you more than just the memories," Harry said, leering at Regulus, who scowled and smacked his shoulder as he stormed past. Hurrying after him, Harry called out over his shoulder, "I think I'm getting through to him!"
Hermione shook her head, half-amused, half-worried. Flirting (and sarcasm) was Harry's way of coping with situations these days.
She had followed Harry halfway up the stairs when she noticed Severus still standing on his spot. She frowned and asked, "Aren't you coming?"
"I, uh…You'll have to excuse me for a bit," Severus said, jerking his chin towards the bathroom.
Hermione smiled and nodded before walking upstairs.
Severus dried his hands with the towel hanging beside the wash basin. He leaned in closer to the mirror and gazed at his reflection.
What had his life come to? What was he even doing there in the first place? Why was he still alive? Had his feelings for Lily simply just disappeared into thin air as soon as he'd laid eyes on his angel?
Yes, yes, they had. Maybe there was something seriously wrong with him mentally. How could he not feel anything for Lily anymore?
More importantly, who was the man staring straight back at him? He couldn't even recognise his reflection anymore. How long had it been since he'd done some soul-searching?
Questions plagued him as his sunken eyes scanned the rest of his face. His cheekbones jutted out, and his skin was sallow and almost translucent. His long, stringy hair clung to the sweat on his neck and collarbones. Even as a teenager with a huge amount of acne, he hadn't looked this terrible.
What was he thinking coming to Grimmauld Place like this? What had his angel thought of his appearance? Merlin, he was an idiot.
Sighing, Severus checked the drawers for anything sharp. He found a dull pair of scissors and inspected them.
Could he just chop off his hair and be done with it? Would it make him look better or worse? Would it…would it make his angel look at him differently? That was the main question.
The light glinted off the metal. Raising the scissors with a shaky hand, he made his decision.
He was just about to cut his hair when a knock on the door interrupted him.
"Severus?" his angel called out, and his heart began to race.
Severus unlocked the door and allowed her to enter. "Angel…I was just about to—"
"What are you doing?" Hermione screeched, leaping for the scissors in his hand. Yanking them away from him, she clutched them to her chest and cried, "I thought you weren't going to do something reckless again!"
Severus blinked, stunned, as she began to ramble about his safety, how much she had trusted him, and her fear of losing him. Tears streamed down her face, and she shook her fist at him, glaring up at him with glassy eyes.
He'd never thought brown was pretty; he'd always assumed his favourite colour was the forest-green of Lily's eyes. Oh, how wrong he was! How could he have ever thought a simple green was more beautiful than a cosy brown?
Teardrops danced on her thick, drooping lashes, and her pupils were blown-out in her righteous fury. He could easily drown in the sparkle of her honey-brown eyes if he weren't careful. In fact, he realised she was still yelling at him when his gaze flickered down to her lips and found them moving.
Amused by how just the colour of her eyes had distracted him for so long, Severus's lips twitched. If he'd been in the midst of a battle or with the Dark Lord nearby, he'd have been dead already.
"What's so funny, Severus Tobias Snape?" his angel barked, baring her teeth at him. Even in her anger, she looked beautiful.
Severus didn't even wonder how she knew his middle name—he didn't care. He stepped closer, and his chest brushed against hers as he took the scissors from her tight grip. A few strands of his hair fell into his eyes when he ducked his head. "I wasn't going to harm myself, my love."
"Th-then what in Merlin's name were you doing?" she demanded, tapping her foot and scowling up at him.
She'd stuttered at the term of endearment he'd used. Severus's heart soared at the realisation that he could affect her too.
"I only wanted to cut my hair," he admitted, not moving from his spot.
"Oh." Hermione lowered her head and stared at the floor, muttering something under her breath. Even though he was so close to her, he could barely understand a word she'd said.
She finally looked up at him and said, "Would you mind if…" She made a vague gesture at his hair.
Hoping he had understood her right, Severus handed her the scissors and said, "Just don't get rid of it all."
Hermione smiled and shook her head. "Of course not! I promise you won't regret this."
Severus believed her. Why wouldn't he? She was his angel, and he'd fallen head over heels for her in an instant. He didn't know if she was lying about the future; all he cared about was her and her happiness.
Hell, she could even shave his head bald or give him a mohawk, and he'd keep his mouth shut.
She tugged on his elbow, pulling him towards the large bathtub in the corner. "Sit."
Obediently, Severus sat. He tucked his legs in closer and gazed up at her.
Pursing her lips, she placed her hands on his face and gently moved it from side to side as she inspected his hair. "Hmm, I've got just the thing!"
And then, she doused him with a bucketful of water, ignoring his indignant screeches as she combed his hair.
She was voluntarily touching his hair. My hair. No one had forced her to do it. Severus was amazed.
She murmured a spell to sharpen the scissors, then began trimming the edges of his strands, flicking them off with a roll of her wrist. Slowly, she made her way higher and higher until she had reached the nape of his neck.
"Have you ever cut someone's hair before?" he questioned, hoping to keep the jealousy out of his tone but failing.
"Once. Harry's," she answered, focussed on her work. She ran her fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp on her way down, and Severus's whole body twitched as blood rushed straight south. She squeaked out a quiet, "Sorry."
"I-It's fine," he muttered, placing his hands on his lap to hide the evidence of his arousal. Merlin's beard, her touch was heavenly. No one had ever touched him willingly before—not even Lily. How touch-starved he was for a hint of affection!
Hermione leaned in closer, her breasts brushing against the tip of his hooked nose.
Severus's mind came to a screeching halt.
She smelt like blood and sweat and something violent. The juxtaposition of her dark scent and the virtuous image was startling.
But it was the fact that Severus's face was almost shoved in between her tits that had him so panicked.
"Don't move," Hermione admonished lightly, tugging on his hair to keep his head in place.
Severus swallowed and refused to breathe. She was so close…
"There, all done," she said, smiling as she dusted his neck and patted his shoulders. "What do you think?"
Severus finally exhaled and got to his feet. She stumbled back at his sudden proximity, and he quickly placed his hands on her waist to steady her. And then, he realised what he'd just done.
"S-sorry," he muttered, but he couldn't pull his hands away. She was so small, so warm, and, in any other woman, he would've said frail. His hands encompassed her waist, his fingers almost overlapping at the small of her back. He could easily snap her in half if he wanted to, and that thought terrified him.
"It's okay," she whispered, placing her hands on his chest. She watched her hands rise and fall with every shaky breath he took before she tilted her head to look at him. The warmth in her eyes had his heart thumping nervously against his ribcage. "You know you don't have to stay with us, right? Harry and I can handle things with Regulus."
"You don't…want me here?"
Hermione's eyes widened and she shook her head fervently. "No, no, that's not it! It's just…"
"What is it?"
Hermione bit her lower lip, an action that made Severus's blood thrum in his veins. She murmured, "I don't want you to feel indebted to me. That's all. I understand you think you want to help us, but—"
"I only want to help you. Not your friend, Potter…That is…he is your friend, isn't he?"
Severus thought he had phrased his question right, but she responded with a bewildered, "What's that supposed to mean? Of course he's my friend!"
He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, startled by how light and airy it felt. "I meant: is he your friend or something…else?"
Hermione stared at him as if she couldn't understand what he'd just asked. After a few moments of awkward silence and intense eye contact, her eyes widened and her cheeks reddened. "Oh! Oh! No, heavens no, he's just my friend—practically my brother, really! He's as straight as my hair. And it's not like we had time for any serious relationship, what with the war and running away and all."
Severus's lips twitched, though he tried to hide his relief. "That's good, then."
"Good. Yes, that's good," Hermione stated, unable to meet his gaze. Her blush had travelled down to her neck.
"Good," Severus whispered, lowering his head. "Does this mean…"
"That you can kiss me? Yes," she blurted out and slapped her hands over her mouth. Her eyes widened as she gawked at him. "Merlin's beard! I'm sorry, that wasn't even what you were asking—Ignore me, please—"
Severus interrupted her by smoothly covering her mouth with his—or well, he attempted to be smooth but failed miserably.
His nose collided against hers, their teeth crashed painfully, and his hands flailed as he tried to figure out where to put them. It was as if time had personally stopped.
She gasped into his mouth and leaned into him, tilting her head so that their noses didn't bump as much. She gripped his collar, her thumb brushing against his collarbone, and kissed him back.
His heart raced, and a sense of liberation washed over him as her lips moved under his slowly yet passionately.
When she pulled back, the world continued to spin on its axis, but for Severus, everything had changed. Nothing was the same anymore.
He was left breathless by the metaphorical galaxies shining in her eyes, her glowing skin, and the different shades of colours he could somehow magically see around her. It was as if he had been blind his entire life and was miraculously given the gift of sight.
"You really are an angel, aren't you?"
She tittered nervously and tucked her poofy hair behind her ear. "Of course not, that's just…not who I am. I'm just human."
But Severus didn't believe her. All she needed was a pair of heavenly wings and she would be good to go. He smiled—a real, true smile that felt a bit awkward as it stretched over his face—and caressed her warm cheek. "Whatever you say. To me, you'll always be the one who saved me, the one who gave me a new chance at life. You'll always be my angel."
Her face warmed under his touch. "For someone who's supposedly very strict in demeanour, you're quite the romantic."
"You'll find that I'm devoted to whoever earns my loyalty," he murmured. "And if you're…amenable, I would be honoured to court you."
Hermione's eyes widened. "C-court me? Do they still do that? I thought formal courting ended back in the thirties—"
"I'd still like to court you formally," he said, a bit amused that she knew that little fact about courting. "Only if you're interested, of course. I would never dare presume otherwise."
She smiled and stood on her tiptoes to kiss the tip of his nose. "I'd like that very much. But we have a mission to accomplish first."
"Of course, I completely understand," Severus murmured. "I'll wait for you as long as I need to."
The beatific smile on her face melted his cold heart. They had a hundred things to do before he could properly get to know each other, but Severus promised himself that he would be with her every step of the way.
