In the Darkness

Ok, sorry, I have no replies after all on this page, I will reply to EVERYONE later, it is now 01:31 and I am very tired. I have worked my ass off trying to get these two finished for you guys tonight, because I won't be able to update for a few days... enjoy! THANK YOU TO ALL REVIEWS! LOVE YA! oh yeah, hits are up to 8228 for this story! YAY!

Chapter 15

Hermione lay in her bed at 12:30, eyes wide open, looking through the darkness that they had long since adjusted to. She heard Lavender snoring quietly from her bed, which helped keep Hermione awake. She turned to her side and tried to set her tormented mind to rest, thinking about her father and the last time she saw him. She tried to shut her memories away but they just seemed to break through the walls that she put up. She closed her eyes and saw his face, she opened them and saw his figure in the shadows, sitting up quickly to look harder at the shadows that hid nothing but the walls behind them, believing that he was there, telling herself that he wasn't. She looked longingly at them, wanting the silhouette that she saw to melt out of the shadows and walk towards her and call to her as he used to. She let out a long deep breath, and looked at the night gown that he had bought for her, the suitcase that was his from being a small boy…

She had to get out of that place; she had to run, although she had no idea where she was running to or what from. She couldn't go to the tower now. She swung her legs off the bed and didn't care to be quiet as she left the room, causing Lavender to stir. She ran down the stairs and out of the Gryfindor common room, down the grand staircase, her bare feet slapping on the cold floor. She ran, not thinking where yet she knew without hardly and upward glance. Every where seemed to be a memory of her father, every painting, every statue resembled his face, every sound could have been the deep dulcet tones of his voice, the wind through hair and on her face could have been his gently caress when he wiped away her tears, she couldn't escape it. There was only one person who could help her escape this torment.

She ran down the stairs, along the corridor, she was nearly there, down that familiar dreaded path. She turned a corner sharply seeing the door, staggering to keep her balance and as she set off to walk again she fell over the uneven flag, her head hitting the floor as she did. She lay on the stone floor, the patterns on it resembling his eyes, the blood from the gash on her head mingling with the tears falling from her eyes. She closed her eyes only to see him walking away from her, she opened them to dense realisation that he wasn't here and never would be again. The tears stung her eyes, the warm wet turning cold as it rolled down her face, she didn't care to wipe them away. She slowly got to her feet, holding out her hand, wishing for someone to be there to grasp it and pull her up, but there was no-one. She stood, crying, her sobs bouncing from wall to wall.

"Miss Granger?"

She looked up to see Snape stood in the doorway, his wand slowly lowering to his side. She just stood there, sobbing.

"Are you alright Miss Granger?" His cold voice offering no comfort. He came closer to her, closing the door behind him. She cover her face with her hands. "Miss Granger?" Her sobs from under her hands answered his question. "What is the matter? Miss Granger?" She turned from him, her hands still at her face. "Are you hurt…?"

"My name is Hermione!" She shouted suddenly, taking him aback. "My name is Hermione…" She repeated in a mumble through tears.

"Hermione." He said, obviously realising that there was something very wrong. He had never seen any of his students like this. He took a few steps towards her, so he was about four feet away from her.

"I'm so, so sorry…" She sobbed. He straightened his face like stone, emotionless. "I tried... I did, I tried… I wanted to… but I couldn't… he kept on asking me… but I never… and now…. Now… he's gone…" If she was looking at him she would have seen his face soften as he understood what was wrong. He walked slowly closer to her, listening to her plea, watching her hands shake violently against her face as she struggled for breathe between those racking sobs. "… He never heard me, all he wanted… was to listen… and I… I… I never let him… He's gone… and he will never…. Oh Christ he's gone… gone and he's never coming… I never knew… I wanted to but I… I don't know… I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry…." Her voice was muffled as she was pulled close to a firm chest, strong arms holding her tightly as she poured her confession incoherently into his chest.

She didn't know how long she was there. She wasn't fully aware of her surroundings. At some point she had been led into the classroom. She had drunk a vile tasting dark green potion from a small vial. She had been seated on a settee and left alone. She found herself suitably calm, her tears had stopped and her breathing was trying to return to normal. She looked around her new surroundings. Apparently she was in Snape's private chambers. Noticing the colour theme was green and silver with almost all antique wooden furnishings. She wasn't looking around for long before Snape entered the room again. Standing above her, her shaking slightly through her thin nightdress she now felt slightly foolish, however, relieved… but somewhat uncomfortable, not knowing what his reaction was going to be like. Nasty? Spiteful? Cruel?

"Have you calmed yourself?" She nodded.

"Though the calming draught that you gave me helped…" She smiled a faint smile, not looking up enough to notice the same dancing on his features. There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Professor, I'm sor…"

"Miss… Hermione. Don't be sorry. I am not angry or offended. You needed that to deal with your father's death."

"No, I didn't mean that… well I did, but I really meant… for what happened in the tower…" She saw him straighten. He still hadn't learnt to let his emotions be shown. She mentally kicked herself. He had asked her to sing up there. He had let his guard down and she had shunned him. For the first time ever he was willing to let some know him… and she kicked it back in his face. There was no-way that he would ever do that now.

"No apology required, Miss Granger." Ah. Back to teacher mode.

"No, please listen Professor… I'm sorry that I couldn't before. It wasn't personal… I… I just never have been able to."

"Very well."

"No, no please. Show some emotion! Show that you feel about it. Like you did up there." He paused.

"I can't." He said, mimicking her tone from the tower. He turned away from her. If she was not in such an understanding mood, the words fucking, childish, bastard, would have sprung to mind. She would not let this lie. Not now.

"I've sung ever since I was little. I used to go to a choir. I was the best. You could hear my voice, crystal clear, over everybody else's. The other children, I was only 8 or 9, were nowhere near as good as me. My mum and dad would sit and listen, of course they could hear my voice over everyone else's, it was the only way they could hear it because I would never sing for them. Then, I got too old to go to choir and left. I still practised. In my room. When the house was empty. My parents pestered me all the time to sing. We would listen to classical music, and they would say "You can sing like that, can't you Herm? Sing for us." I'd just blush and ignore it, or just say no. They did it all the time, anything to hear me sing. They even offered me £50 to sing at a friends wedding. I had no money at the time, and yet I still wasn't tempted. My mum just didn't ask me from them, just realised that she would probably never hear me. My dad though. Well, he wouldn't give up. He asked me all the time. He would do anything to hear me. I caught him on more than one occasion, listening to the bottom of my bedroom door as I sung along to the songs on the radio. Of course, I would stop straight away. He always asked me. And I always said no." She finished, staring into nothingness as she thought deeply. She looked up. "I've never told anyone that story." She smiled faintly.

Snape was looking at her again now, in almost rapture. His brow creased slightly, but not into a frown. She looked at him, smiled, and then looked away.

"I thought that you were an angel when I first heard you." He said.

She looked up. The passion was in his eyes again, and he was letting her have it… her breath hitched in her throat.

"Your voice did something to me. I have never felt so calm before. It was almost like an addiction. Then I found you. I didn't think that I could see you in that angelic way again, but the next time I heard you sing, I did…" She stood and walked to him, his head down, standing close to him. "I needed to hear you again. Then you looked at me and didn't turn away in fear. You were looking for something…" He stopped and looked at her.

Hermione was overwhelmed by what she was hearing. It was the personal life of Severus Snape. His thoughts. His feelings. He was desperate and helpless just like her… and she liked it… she was happy… suddenly, the thought of that night when he had touched her jumped to her mind, the way she had felt, she was feeling now. She was stood close, she could feel the electricity jumping from his to her skin, and visa versa. She wanted to touch him, reach out and comfort him, those dark eyes creased with almost worry, he was so vulnerable… He had done some terrible things in his life, she could see that, but he was sorry, he was a new man.

"Don't stop…" She whispered. It was his turn to feel his breath stop slightly as she leaned closer to him, the height difference obvious now that they were so close.

"… You, you were the first person to look for me. I didn't let you, but you still did. I knew that I needed you, to hear you again, but now…"

"… Now what?" She whispered their lips so close they were almost touching. "Tell me what you feel…"

"…I feel that I need… more…"

Aren't I nasty? Hehehehe!