By the following nightfall, he was ready to try for the castle again. The trip, slower than before, netted the same results as before. There were still other men out on the grounds searching for someone or something. It was too dark to determine on whose side the cloaked figures were. However, after two weeks of hiding, the food cache that Hermione had found was nearly depleted. She knew that they would need to move soon or starve to death. Plus, his wounds were still infected; the drainage smelled like rot to her nose. Snape ran an intermittent high fever as a result. She would fix him something better when they got to his laboratory.
Hermione announced, "After a fortnight here, we are going to have to get to Hogwarts tonight. There is just not much more food for us here. And you need more than what I can do here for you."
Snape nodded.
Again, they went down the secret tunnel toward the school. Again, Hermione left him near the entrance by the Whomping Willow. Again, she saw someone on the grounds but could only make out that it was a man. He seemed to be just walking around. On previous nightly observations, she had seen people looking for something. She returned with her usual report. Again, they waited filling the time with companionable silence and a little talk. Snape was not nearly as high strung as when they first tried getting into the castle; the fever had stolen most of his unnecessary combativeness. However, Snape would never be anything other than "high maintenance" when it came to relating to others. A couple of hours later, near midnight, she saw nothing and returned for Snape. The coast was clear, at long last!
"Get us to the far greenhouse, and we'll use my passageway into the castle's dungeons," he supplied. "Look around behind us as we go – on what had been the battlefield. If there are bodies still there, it likely means the Dark Lord has won."
"Why do you say that?"
"He has little respect for the living, let alone the dead. He would leave them as a totem to others who might seek to challenge his rule," Snape told her matter-of-factly.
"That's disgusting," was her reply.
Snape merely grunted his assent. Carefully, they exited the Whomping Willow and moved stealthily toward Snape's passageway. Once inside the castle, Hermione led him to his former quarters. The castle seemed vacant and abandoned, emptier than even holidays made it. She wondered where the people were that she had seen on those nights they had tried for the castle. For his part, Snape listened for any sounds that might indicate which side was in possession of the castle. His ears were becoming attuned to the dark in which he now found himself. He moved past his wards into his chambers.
"Sir, it did not look as if the battle moved inside. Nothing seems particularly out of place," Hermione indicated to him. "What kind of potion should I start to clear your eyes?"
Snape drank the potion for his fever and infections that she had offered him, and then he turned toward the sound of her voice and reached out a hand. She took it and stepped into a tentative embrace. His body was much cooler than it had been in days. Then, Hermione tightened her grip around his middle and tucked her head under his chin. She listened to the sounds of his heart beating and his breathing for a few moments. The steadiness of his body's rhythms served to instill calm in her heart.
Finally, he drew both his arms up around her and entangled his fingers in her bushy hair. He found an odd delight in playing with her unruly hair – hair that had identified her to him in the briar patch, hair that people had made fun of, hair that was so soft. It made him wish that he could still see. He wanted to know what her face looked like again. The terror of the loss of his sight had driven so many faces from his mind. Yet he dared not run his hand across her face; Snape did not desire to frighten her with an advance that was perhaps inappropriate and not wanted.
She noted that his heart was pounding now and breathing had both deepened and sped up; and she smiled, hoping it was her doing. Presently, she felt like a moth drawn to a flame as she took her own comfort in his cautious embrace. She drew her head back slightly and looked up into his face. For once, she found a majesty and beauty in it that she'd not ever seen before.
"Severus," she whispered his given name for the first time and moved to touch his lips with hers.
"Hermione," he moaned into her mouth as he pulled her closer to himself, covering her mouth with his own.
They deepened the kiss with the multiplicity of emotions that swirled around them. Each drew strength from the other's passion. The foreboding of fear began to lift in Snape's chest for the first time since he'd found himself going blind. He felt his energy returning. Neither could tell if it was fear or genuine attraction that prompted their joining, as if it mattered at that moment. Hands touched and explored; tongues and lips gave and received pleasure. They found a wonderful, delicious oneness in the moment. They softly danced their way across the room to his couch.
Soft moans of delight and sounds of passionate kisses from the other filled their souls. Hermione delighted in how he kissed her neck and the feel of his soft beard that had begun to grow in the last two weeks. He knew just how to brush it against her sensitive skin. She desperately wanted him as she had never wanted anyone else.
Snape responded to her gentle nibbles along his neck and her fingers racing to undo his shirt buttons. He felt his head tilt back involuntarily as he let out a moan this time of pure pleasure, which only served to encourage her further. Her hands and lips glided across his chest in a most magical way. He had never experiences such feelings before. She seemed actually to want him; and he knew he wanted her just as much, if not more.
"Hermione," he moaned close in her ear, "I want you. I need you. Make love with me tonight."
"I want nothing more or less than all of you," she tenderly stroked his face. "But, I have saved myself for marriage, Severus."
"Then on our wedding night," Snape purred in her other ear with a gentle nibble, "we will take and have each other."
When she did not tell him "no" to this backhanded proposal, he returned to kissing and caressing her for all he was worth, putting making love to her on the back burner. He would let her feel his desire with other body parts until that day when she would be wholly his and his alone. For her part, Hermione demonstrated that he was indeed most wanted and would one day be hers and only hers. Severus Snape was a man of the deepest passions, be it anger or desire. There was nothing half-hearted in this mystifying man.
They continued this way tenderly and passionately until Peeves broke in cackling.
"Peeves!" they shouted nearly in unison. "Go away!"
He bounced around a bit and cackled some more before leaving the same way he came.
"Peevsie seeies! Peevsie seeies!"
Snape lifted himself on his elbows just a bit, brushing just his fingertips across her face, his long hair tickling her nose and cheeks and with a deep, contented sigh said, "Hermione, it would appear that we are not as alone as we had imagined."
She moved her arms from his back to his chest, "That could be good or bad, depending…" she smiled. "How shall we approach this new turn of events?"
"Perhaps we should explore the castle. I'll go ahead of you, if you will be so good as to guide me forward. I may not be able to aim a curse, but I most certainly can defend against them," he moved off her, pulling on his coat but leaving it open along with his white shirt, which Hermione had unbuttoned. She quietly thought how sexually inviting he looked.
"I'm not sure I like that idea. I don't want to lose you, especially not now," Hermione let her hands run off his chest as he rose, making him purr with pleasure.
"Take my hand," he indicated with an outstretched palm.
She pulled up, briefly touching his chest once more, before leading him out into the hall beyond. They crept slowly and silently through the dungeon passages, making their way toward the Great Hall.