Author's Note: Okay, Hermione Haters, this should please you. I hope. And if not, there's lemons! :)

Chapter 16: Everytime You're Near

"I love you more than I knew

I could ever love someone

And got it all so deep

I can barely even breathe

If I need a shelter from the storm."

Paul McDonald with Nikki Reed, "All I've Ever Needed"

When Severus was nine, he met Lily Evans in a field near their homes. He loved her from that moment until... well, he wasn't sure. But he'd loved her for a long time.

They'd been best friends for a while, until she was his but he was no longer hers. He'd pined for her and hated her and died inside, he thought, when she'd married James Potter. He'd watched her love her husband, and loved her in turn from a far.

She'd had her son, and he'd gone for good, over to what he knew was the wrong side of the war. But he loved her so much, and hated her so intensely, he wanted to spite her with his actions. Provoke her. Make her care again. But it hadn't worked. Still, he tried to save her, but she was too brave to give in. She died in spite of him.

He spent the next sixteen years killing for her, putting himself in danger for her, trying to sacrifice his life over and over for her. She'd never done anything for him, but he'd given it all up for her. Anything at all, for his Lily.

And as he lay dying on the rotting wood floor of the shack, blood gushing from the wound in his neck, the pain of his horrid, wasted life overtaking him, he'd called out to her, begging her to help him, to see him through to the other side. He was scared, he needed her. He felt her there, and he thought that, for the first time, Lily was giving something to him.

But it hadn't been Lily at all.

XXXXX

"Hermione, what is it? What's wrong?" She was crying now, hunched over herself, covering her face in her hands. He wanted so badly to go to her, to hold her, but he was afraid to move.

"Oh, Severus!" she sobbed, "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry!"

He wasn't sure what she meant. "It's okay," he tried, "Don't cry, it's okay."

She sobbed harder. "It's not okay! I lied to you. I've lied to you for so long!"

Severus stood stock-still in the middle of the kitchen, staring. Whatever she was on about, it hardly seemed important, if she was coming back to him, which he hoped she was.

"I don't care, Hermione. Whatever you lied about, it's fine. I did worse, and..."

"It's not fine!" She wailed again, and Severus promptly shut up.

Finally, Severus worked up the nerve to go to her. Hesitantly, he stroked her bare arms; her skin felt wonderful. She clutched his shoulders, burying her nose in his bare chest. He savored the moment. She calmed against him.

"I have to tell you the truth," she whispered finally, pulling away. Severus was loathe to see her go.

He remained before her, unable to detach himself from her. "Alright..." He was wary of her words. She looked terrified, and shivered when he touched her.

"There's a reason I've been keeping away from you," she told him. "A reason I haven't spoken to you, or answered any of your letters."

"I violated your mind, I looked without asking..."

Hermione shook her head. "No. I mean, you shouldn't have done that, but there's another reason, a bigger reason. A memory I didn't want you to see."

She took a deep breath. "That night in the Shrieking Shack," she began, and Severus jerked away instinctively. Hermione swallowed and continued. "That night, we were there, you know." He nodded. He hardly let himself think about the memories he'd shared with Potter, certain he was near death. But it had arguably won them the war. "But when Harry ran to Dumbledore's-I mean, the headmaster's- office," she continued, not quite looking Severus in the eye, "Ron went back through the passage, but I stayed."

Severus's closed eyes snapped open. What?

Hermione nodded, tears running down her face. "There was a war on, but I couldn't leave... I didn't want you to die alone. So I stayed with you, and... held your hand."

Severus' stomach flipped. He didn't remember any of this. No girl there, holding his hand as he lay dying. He was alone, except for... no.

Crying harder, she told him, "you said, 'save me.' There was...there was so much blood." Severus winced. "I only wanted to help you, to let you die in peace, not in pain... I never meant, I didn't mean..."

What had she done?

She was sobbing again, choking on her words. "I... I couldn't... I mean, I don't know... I only wanted to help you! I only remember that I thought that you deserved to live, that I wished I could somehow make you live. Then you began breathing better, more steadily, and the wound..." He fingered the gnarled scar at his throat, "it stopped bleeding, and I don't know how I did it, but... "

"Stop." he said suddenly, raising his hand. Hermione froze, her mouth slightly open.

The rushing, the absolutely silence, the peace that had surrounded in him that moment; all her. Hermione had saved his life. She'd done something with her magic-something so strange and powerful he hadn't recognized it. She hadn't meant to, but she'd somehow bent her magic to her will, and by willing him to live, she had made it so. Such incredible power.

But she hadn't been powerful enough to keep the pain away. He'd still writhed in his bed at St. Mungo's for weeks, tearing at his own flesh, until...

"You came."

"What?" She looked up at him, her eyes puffy and red from crying.

"You told me you came to the hospital. You-you touched me." He gestured to his forehead. Nearly a year ago, now. A cool hand on his face when no one else would dare. He shook like mad after, convulsing for hours, until he fell into sleep. But when he woke... "You healed me." Hermione looked lost. Her eyes searched his for the truth. She has no idea what she's done.

Then he was upon her, gripping her violently by the arms, his face close to hers, and she was terrified, he could tell, but she didn't understand... he wasn't sure if he was relieved or furious or gloriously happy. Not that she saved his life; no, that was over and done with, no sense grieving for his death now. But how she had saved him, what she had given him...

Then he thought of her memories, and his letters, one after the other, and her refusal to come back to him. She didn't want him. But now...

"What have you done, Hermione?" He meant to sound angry, but his voice was pleading.

"I-I don't know, I-"

"You silly girl," he gasped. For the first time in a long, long time, he felt like crying. "What did you say? What did you say that night, when I was dying? She shook her head furiously. He gripped her harder. "What did you say?!" He bellowed.

"I- I said you had to live!" She yelled. He knew he was scaring her. "I promised to keep you alive!"

He dropped her arms like they burned him, and stepped back, panting. "What did you say, exactly" he whispered.

"I don't know!"

"You didn't say 'promise' did you?" She shook her head, terrified eyes locked on his. "You said vow."

"Yes, but..."

"Don't you get it, Hermione?" He yelled. "You've vowed for my life!"

Hermione sat, scared and still on his table, but it was clear she still didn't know what he meant.

Severus felt a pull, a stronger-than-natural desire to touch her. So he wrapped his arms around her, one hand in her hair and the other on her back. "Oh, Hermione." He breathed. She shuddered against his bare chest.

"What have I done?" she whispered, finally.

He held her more tightly. "You have vowed for my life. You have tied your life to mine, and my life to your own."

She looked up at him, eyes sparkling with tears. "What does that mean?"

He sighed. "I'm not completely sure... I thought it was all legend. But somehow, you used your magic to save my life, and now, every time you're near, my own magic recognizes yours. We're connected, somehow."

"The sparks!" she cried. "That's the connection?"

He nodded. "I'd imagine so. My magic is relatively strong, but you-you're incredibly powerful, Hermione. The strength causes the reaction."

"I'm powerful?" she squeaked. She didn't look especially powerful, hunched on his table in a flowered dress, face puffy.

"You must be, to pull off something like that," he answered. He couldn't help but notice she was letting him hold her; she wasn't running away. "And I believe you strengthened it when you came to St. Mungo's."

She let out a sob, nodding. "I did it again, I said it again... they told me you weren't doing well." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I didn't know you'd lived, or I would have come sooner! I didn't mean to leave you in pain, I-"

"Shh," Severus stroked her hair, and she buried her face in his neck. It felt so nice to hold her again.

After a long moment, she pulled away, but Severus didn't-couldn't-let go. He didn't think he'd ever let go of her again.

"Are you angry?" she whimpered. "I'm so sorry... I didn't know how to tell you."

He shook his head. "No, I'm not angry. You saved my life, after all."

"Oh. I thought... I thought maybe you'd have wanted to die."

Had he wanted to die? Severus wasn't sure. He was sure that if he'd been asked on the floor of the Shrieking Shack or in the ward at St. Mungo's, he'd have given a resounding yes. But he was also sure that all those moments spent tracing patterns on Hermione's bare skin, or sleeping with her in his arms or even this moment right now, with her hands on his waist and his in her hair, their eyes locked on one another, he would have fought and killed a dozen dragons rather than let death try and take him again.

"You gave me life," he whispered against her mouth. "More importantly, you gave me the best weeks of my life; you gave me you." And then, unable to control the urge any longer, he kissed her soundly, holding her fast to him and pressing his mouth against hers with such force he heard her gasp.

Hermione deepened the kiss, parting her lips eagerly for him, her tongue dancing with his. He pulled her close and she pressed back. Her hands curled around his sides and down to his bottom, where she found purchase to pull him in closer. She wound her legs around his waist, locking him in, until he was pressing hard against all the places on her body he thought about late at night when he was alone. Severus let out an involuntary moan.

He found his way to the place where neck met shoulder, and tasted the skin there. She sighed in his ear. He felt her fingers on the button to his trousers; he stilled them.

"Severus, please," she breathed.

And if it was the magic, or his raging body, or just his love for her, he wasn't sure.

And he didn't care.

In one smooth motion, he tore her dress over her head, revealing her breasts. So perfect and round and... bare.

Oh Merlin she's been braless all day. Severus growled. He bent to take her nipple in his mouth and she gasped as he ran his tongue along the sensitive flesh. She was fumbling with his trousers; he shoved them the rest of the way down his legs. She stroked his erection and he moaned, pulling her hand away.

"No," he whispered in her ear, "I want you too badly." She grasped at his back and shoulders, her nails scraping at his skin in an effort to pull him closer. But he couldn't get closer. Unless...

Severus was nervous. It'd been a long time since he'd done this, and Hermione was special, so special. He needed to please her.

He didn't have much time to consider his options, however, before she wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him close and into her.

He stilled, legs shaking hard. It was though he was under a curse and couldn't move or speak or even think; all he could do was stand absolutely still and feel her around him, warm and wet and pulsing with her own want. He breathed her in, her sweet, warm smell, and touched the back of her head. Purple sparks exploded beneath his fingertips, crackling at the ends of her hair.

Slowly, he began to move. Hermione gasped, her eyes squeezed shut, but nodded him on. He held her on the edge of the table and she wound her hands around his neck, her legs around his hips. They moved together, slow but so sweet.

Hermione cried out, a strangled noise in the quiet night. Her pleasure sent Severus over the edge, his whole body shuddering violently as he came, crying her name.

Shaking and spent, they collapsed to the floor, still wrapped around each other. Severus cradled Hermione against him perhaps a little too tightly. She threaded her fingers in his hair, still gasping for breath, and when she whispered that she loved him, Severus could have believed his being was composed entirely of those magical purple sparks, crackling inside his heart.

She'd given him life.

A second chance.

Her soul, her body.

Her love.

Herself.

She'd given him everything.