Chapter 13 – The Meadows
When Hermione got out of the shower, she was pleasantly surprised by a pile of clothes displayed on her bed. She reached out to grab the familiar piece of parchment that lay on top and began reading with a smile.
Hermione,
I took the liberty of conjuring you something fitting for our evening together. I hope you don't mind. I'll be waiting for you downstairs when you are ready.
Severus
Placing the note into the top drawer of her bedside table, it landed on the pile of other notes he had left her, carefully stashed away. She turned her attention to the bed's remaining contents. The dress that Severus had conjured was exquisite. A beautiful shade of green, somewhere between emerald and hunter, it had a modest scoop neck in the front. Its high back was embellished by the tiny satin buttons going down to the waist, at which point fabric of the dress transformed from the fitted bodice to an equally smooth, yet almost weightless fabric that she knew would flow as she walked. He went into the wrong profession, Hermione marveled to herself. Severus, you should have been a tailor. The pile also held a pair of black shoes and an intricate looking clip for her hair. It was delicate silver, woven around a spattering of emeralds. Stifling the schoolgirl sigh she knew was welling inside her, she collected the items from the bed and went back into the bathroom to get dressed.
Severus couldn't remember the last time he had felt nervous. When serving the dual masters of Lord Voldemort and Albus Dumbledore he was quite familiar with emotions like fear, dread, and the constant companion of uncertainty. Yet nerves had not been an issue in his life for quite some time. I can face the most evil wizard of all time without flinching, yet I am literally pacing as I wait for a young witch. Professor Snape of old would have berated himself, but as he pondered the changes he had undergone in the short space of the last week he actually felt a warm feeling creeping over his insides.
He thought over the conversation he had had with Harry yesterday. It's going to be hard to retrain myself to call him by his first name. Yet the boy had a point when he had said that not calling him Potter, the name of Severus' childhood tormentor, might do their developing relationship some good. Severus was forced to contemplate that the Marauders might not have been the sources of pure evil he had vilified them to be in his youth. While their dangerous tricks and pranks were cruel, hurtful, and potentially lethal in some cases, transitioning towards seeing Harry in a new (positive) light had allowed Severus to begin contemplating the traits he shared with his father that might not have been as bad as teenaged Severus had made them out to be. After minutes of contemplation, he sensed a nagging feeling developing in his gut that he had more to add to his notebook. Even as he fought these thoughts, the notion of trying to be the bigger man floated tantalizingly in the forefront of his thoughts. You've been spending too much time with bloody Gryffendors.
As if on cue, his attention was drawn to the top of the stairs, where an absolutely gorgeous and not-so-subtly grinning Hermione had appeared. One hand on the railing, she slowly descended the stairs, her eyes not leaving his for a second. When she reached the bottom, she did a little pirouette as if to show off the clothes he had conjured for her. She's a goddess. He thought to himself. Hermione was, in fact, completely transformed from her usual baggy jumpers and messy bun. She looked outstandingly beautiful as the dress flowed around her, showcasing her trim waste and showcasing curves that he would have thought no amount of baggy clothing could have hidden. Her hair had been tamed by the magic of the clip, soft tendrils escaping from the front to frame her face.
As she watched him take her in, she was pleased to find that, after seven years of trying, she had finally astounded him into a stunned silence. After pausing to collect himself and reacquaint himself with the English language, he finally spoke. "You are breathtaking." His voice was even lower and silkier than usual when he managed to find words. They had their desired effect, as her smile got even bigger.
"Not so shabby yourself," she responded, gesturing to his neat, black dress pants and clean, white, button down shirt.
"So do I get to know where you are taking me, Severus?" she asked without abandoning her smile.
"Our itinerary has several stops," he said mysteriously. "Your outfit is necessary for the first phase of the evening. Shall we?" He offered her his arm in an old-fashioned gesture. After he had daintily placed her arm in his, he apparated them both away.
They appeared in a dark alleyway, but he quickly lead her out into what turned out to be a fairly busy muggle street. She did not know exactly where they were, but she could smell the sea. "This explains the choice in clothes," she commented as he lead her into a fancy looking, dimly lit, muggle restaurant. He addressed the maître d in hushed tones, "Snape, for two. Six o'clock." The man checked the list, grabbed two heavy leather menus, and held out his arm for them to follow. He led them to a table in the back of the restaurant. As they got closer, she saw that what had appeared to be the back wall was actually a large window, looking out over a gorgeous seascape. The maître d pulled her chair out, "Madam Snape" he nodded with respect. Hermione blushed and couldn't help noticing that Severus neither corrected him nor managed to completely stifle what looked suspiciously like a smile.
When the two were seated, Hermione finally asked the obvious question, "So why did you choose this place, Severus? I never pictured you to be the type to frequent the muggle world." She inspected his features as he embarked on what she correctly guessed would be a far more personal story than she had expected when she first asked the question.
"There is a former Death Eater safehouse hidden a bit further down this street. Voldemort prized himself in being able to hide in plain sight. He has locations throughout several countries, often in muggle neighborhoods. They aren't as observant as wizards." He paused to relish the spellbound look in her face as she listened, seemingly enraptured by his every word. "I was often tasked to this safehouse. The alley in which we arrived is the only safe location into which one can apparate without being noticed. As I walked with dread to meet Voldemort I always passed this restaurant. There were always happy muggle couples entering or exiting, talking excitedly about their mundane lives. I have never regretted leaving the muggle world, yet when I passed this place I always imagined what it would have been like to lead a normal life, not to be on my way to lie to and appease the whims of an evil wizard. I wondered what it would have been like to enjoy the simple things like taking a beautiful woman to dinner."
She blushed at the compliment, but he watched with amusement as she quickly displayed the look years of experience told him she was putting things together in her mind before she spoke. "I had been wondering how to mention that you left yourself off the list." The unadulterated kindness in her words shocked him. How she was able to safeguard this immense ability for empathy while suffering the unspeakable events she had experienced and carrying out the duties with which she had been tasked he would never know.
"You are truly the best of Gryffendor, my dear." She smiled in response and stretched her hand across the table to intertwine her fingers with his. After a few moments of appreciative silence, their conversation drifted into less serious matters. Throughout the course of the evening, they finally managed to forget, at least briefly, about the war that had raged around them, about their scars and their pasts. He sat back in overjoyed surprise as she laughed at his sarcastic jokes, while she reveled in seeing a smile grace his previously stern features more and more often. After they paid the check, she resumed her place on his arm as they exited the restaurant. The pair walked in contented silence back to the alleyway from which they had first emerged.
"Where to next, my mysterious Slytherin?" Her eyes gleamed with curiosity as he disapparated them wordlessly away. When she saw where they appeared her eyes widened in surprise and disbelief. Her confused face turned to him for explanation, occasioning a satisfied smile. "I figured you would be missing your friends after a week of separation. When I spoke with Harry earlier he mentioned how many people he had had to stave off from seeking you out in his effort to protect our little project. However, he mentioned that we were both welcome here any time, so…" He finished his sentence with a repetition of the half bow the maître d had previously shown when he led them to their table. Not sure whether to gape at him in surprise or throw her arms around his neck in happiness, she compromised by following his outstretched arm into the doorway of the Burrow.
An hour later everyone was still draped across the various couches of the main family room of the crooked little house. Ron and Fred were sprawled across the floor engaged in an intense game of wizards' chess, George sitting off to the side of the board to act as commentator. Molly and Arthur were seated at the dinner table, discussing his day at the ministry. Severus was sitting on the end of a sofa, his one arm wrapped around the shoulders of Hermione, who had stretched her legs out across the remainder of the sofa while she used him as a backrest. Harry was seated on a cushy armchair with Ginny in his lap, her legs stretched over one of his arms to face Hermione. The four had lapsed into what turned into quite an interesting conversation about how best to deal with the remaining Death Eaters that were still at large.
Hermione couldn't believe how well Severus had meshed into the fabric of her friendship with Harry. The two were quite cordial, even friendly. They seemed to be tied by some unspoken secret the two of them shared. She assumed it had to do with the revelation of Snape's true allegiances and his history with Harry's mum. However, she kept intercepting knowing glances cast between the two men that indicated to her that there had to be more to it than that. The Weasley family had also accepted his presence with unexpected ease, no doubt due to his part in Fred's return to the household. In fact, Molly had given Severus such an alarmingly tight hug when he entered the Burrow, that she occasioned a frightened look on his face and a giggle from Hermione as she witnessed the exchange. Hermione had still yet to have a real conversation with Ron, who seemed keen to stick to the pleasantries and then casually avoid her, but, she noted to herself, he had never been too much of a conversationalist in the first place.
What pleased her most was that she noticed that Severus seemed to be actually relaxing and enjoying himself. Throughout the evening he seemed most at home talking to Arthur and Harry, but she couldn't help but feel the vibrations against her back of his silent laughter every time one of the twins landed a particularly witty verbal blow, usually against each other or Ron. Overall, she couldn't stop the spread of a warm feeling that all the parts of her life, old and new, were going to fit seamlessly together in a way she would never have imagined being possible.
As the fire in the hearth began to die, everyone began to drift off to their separate rooms. First the twins exited, muttering about business plans. Ron shortly followed. Soon after Arthur yawned, stretched, and led Molly by the hand up the twisted stairs. Eventually, after Ginny nodded off for the third time, she extricated herself from her previous position nestled in the nook of Harry's shoulder and walked up the stairs towards her bedroom.
"Where do you sleep, Harry?" Hermione asked, realizing that this wasn't actually his house.
"You're sitting on it." Harry gestured to the sofa.
"That's horrible!" Hermione exclaimed, feeling the shake of Severus' laughter at the display of her usual enthusiasm against anything unjust.
"It's better than my bedroom at the Dursley's," Harry commented dismissively. However, sensing that his answer had not appeased her qualms, he elaborated further. "I'm not quite sure where I'm going to go next, but Ginny is here and I know that I'm not going to spend any more time away from her." She couldn't help but notice another knowing look shoot from Harry to the man sitting behind her. She felt the arms around her squeeze her momentarily.
As if on cue, she felt Severus shift as if to stand. Harry too got up, so she followed suit. She heard Severus's silky voice thank Harry for the invitation and to extend the same to the Weasley family.
"Don't be strangers, you two," Harry said. "I know you have some things to take care of on several fronts," another knowing look shot from Harry to Severus. This time she thought she even saw Severus nod in return. Harry continued, "However, now that we don't have to hunt horecruxes or do…whatever scary spy stuff you did, we can finally enjoy each others' company." She was surprised again at the two men's familiarity with each other. Scary spy stuff? How much did I miss at lunch? Next they'll be using each others' first names and playing quiddich together. But she knew that she was glad for whatever had transpired to make things so comfortable between the pair of men.
"Indeed, Harry." Severus said, shaking Harry's hand and wrapping his other arm around Hermione's waist to lead her to the door. One out of two. She joked to herself. As they stepped outside, he pulled her into him and planted a gentle kiss on her lips, tenderly tucking one of her escaped tendrils behind her ear after he pulled away. "My dear, would you be amenable to one more stop before we head home?"
"I don't know how anything will surprise me after that."
He smiled down at her. "It will be quick, but I have something I wish to show you." She nodded and felt the now-familiar swirling sensation as they disapparated into the moonlight.
When she again felt solid ground under her feet, she was standing on a dark path. As her eyes adjusted, she saw that the path weaved its way along the side of a cliff. To the left of the path was a sharp drop off that lead down to the sea below. To the right of the path was a large expanse of tall grass, waving gently in the sea breeze. Looking forward, her eyes followed the path to a rugged little cottage house that looked over the sea. While there were no lights illuminated anywhere around the house, she definitely felt a sense of warmth emanating from it.
For the second time in the evening, she looked questioningly up at Severus. He gently took her hand and began walking slowly towards the house. For the first few paces, they were quiet. She was torn between admiring the gorgeousness of the moonlight bouncing off the sea and the beauty of the wind rippling through the seemingly endless stalks of long grass in the meadow to her right. As they got closer to the house, she could discern the writing on a sign by the fence around the front porch. In an old fashioned script, it read "The Meadows", describing perfectly the bucolic idyll to her right. As they got to the house Severus sat on the steps of the front porch and, still in possession of her hand, pulled her into his lap, replicating position Ginny and Harry had occupied earlier in the evening.
"This place is amazing," Hermione practically whispered into his collar.
"It's mine," Severus said simply.
"What?" Her face jerked back so she could look into his eyes. She found them full of laughter, though his mouth remained serious.
"I have been a professor at Hogwarts my entire adult life, but I also began to brew potions for the hospital ward. With time, I began brewing for larger magical hospitals throughout England. I had no use for a vault in Gringotts full of gold which I had neither the time nor inclination to spend, so I created an escape plan of sorts. I did not expect to survive the war, regardless of which side emerged victorious. However, in an uncharacteristic fit of optimism one day, I stumbled upon this place and decided I would buy it. It is protected by every form of protective magic that was used to hide Hogwarts. It is unknown to the Death Eaters and the Order alike. I made sure I was the only soul who knew about its existence. I kept my sanity knowing that, should by some odd miracle I survive, I had something completely untouched by my past life. It is a place that is truly and completely mine."
She could think of no response to the honesty he had just displayed. Knowing Severus' general dislike of idle words and not wanting to ruin a perfect moment, she simply leaned her head into his neck and squeezed his hand. They sat quietly for a second, when Severus' silky voice broke the silence.
"And now yours as well."
"What?" Hermione's head again jerked away to survey Severus' features.
"When we met earlier, Harry impressed upon me the fact that if you saved me as you did, if you were helping me as you are, if you look at me the way he saw you look at me…he impressed upon me the great lengths you would go to for those you care about. He also mentioned that if I should be worthy of such dedication, I should make my intentions toward you clear, as you would never press the issue yourself."
Hermione somehow found her shaky voice through the barrage of thoughts assailing her highly capable brain, "And what are your intentions toward me, Severus?"
"Unfortunately, I believe Harry stole the best way to describe my feelings. I do not wish to go anywhere other than where you are. I am, for all intents and purposes, yours. If you will have me, that is…" Her lips were on his before he could finish speaking. This kiss was nothing like the gentle kisses they had been exchanging throughout the day. He had been asking her a question when her lips interrupted him, and she used them to pour out her answer. Her hands running through his hair, she pulled her body as tight to his as she could. Catching her sentiment in an instant, his hands wrapped around the small of her back and pulled her in as their mouths continued to explore each other.
His mouth was surprised to feel the gentle pull of her teeth as she nibbled his bottom lip. He felt a low moan escape from somewhere deep inside him. She groaned in response and he took the opportunity to briefly graze her lips with his tongue. He shuddered when her mouth opened, granting his tongue further access to her own. Severus had the wisdom to pull away before the last threads of his dwindling self control snapped. Looking at her flushed face, both panting from the intensity of their kiss, he couldn't help but smile.
"Does that mean you feel the same way?" He smiled a coy smile, having gotten a fairly strong hint as to what her answer would be. However, the smile on his face vanished as he saw the pained, almost fearful expression playing in her features.
"Severus…" she began, eyes contracting as if about to confess a heartbreakingly dark secret. Seeing what he read to be either insecurity or embarrassment in her eyes, he attempted to steel himself for an unexpected blow. How could I have bared my soul only to get rejected? Again. I'm going to kill Potter. He wanted to look away but he couldn't pull himself away from the eyes to which he had grown so attached.
Hermione seemed to have steeled her courage, took a deep breath, and spoke. "I love you, Severus." Her voice was meek and quiet as she peered anxiously up at him through her eyelashes. His mouth was back on hers in a heartbeat. He kissed her feverishly, as if the world was ending and this would be humanity's last chance to demonstrate what a true kiss was supposed to be like. She was his, and he… he had been hers since he first looked up at her face in the boathouse.
"As I love you." His voice was still smooth and thick like velvet, yet now it had a gravely timbre she had never heard before. It swept away any thought in her mind but that of him as his lips returned to hers.