Hey!
Thank you all so much for all of the reviews! I was telling my roommate how just before midnight, nine of you reviewed, officially bringing the total to 201! Thank you! I just kept saying "I love them, they're just awesome. I really love them all," haha :P
Sabrina1209: I post every Tuesday :)
Let's try and make it 220! I know you all can do it!
October entered with brisk weather and coloring leaves. Hermione only ever left the castle in the early morning, always with Severus, and only for about a half hour, if that. Severus had become even more protective over her since he discovered Amycus was in their bedroom, when he was not there. Also, when Severus went to speak to the man, there was nearly a fight in the middle of the Great Hall. Severus had told her that he had made some threats against her, but wouldn't tell her what they were. Hermione was grateful for that.
Now, throughout the days, Severus periodically checked up on her or often handed her off to Minerva. Hermione preferred to spend the days with him, hiding out in Dumbledore's office.
A week into the month, she was summoned once again by the Dark Lord. Hermione was still slightly reluctant, and Severus paced more than ever leading up to the date. Once again, Severus was not to enter the house with Hermione, and Bellatrix had her moment of fun when they were alone, leaving Hermione's lip split and swollen with a gash in her cheek.
Hermione could tell that Voldemort was not happy with what he was getting, and he told Severus that night that he was not happy, and when he called her at the start of the New Year, she better have something worth seeing, or he would kill her.
After this point, Hermione noticed that Severus began letting himself go. He stopped shaving, stopped reading books, and would often stare off into space.
"Severus?" Hermione called to him one evening when she found him at two in the morning staring into the fire.
"Severus?" she called again.
Finally he blinked and turned his lifeless eyes on her.
"Aren't you coming to bed," she asked, wrapping her robe tighter around her body.
"No. I can't sleep," he muttered, turning his gaze back to the flames.
Hermione approached him and stood directly in his line of sight. Slowly, his eyes drifted to her face, and she noticed how horrible he looked.
"What's wrong?" she asked softly.
"Nothing. Everything is fine,"
"No it's not, Severus. Something is bothering you, it's clear as day, its been this way for a few weeks. I wish you would just talk to me,"
"There's nothing to talk about," he snapped, turning his eyes away from her.
The two had little to no conversation afterwards. Hermione even took to sneaking out of the room at night because she couldn't stand to see him slowly wasting away before her eyes. She would often sit in the Great Hall and study the Halloween decorations and how every night, more and more were added in preparation to the Halloween Feast…which she would not be a part of.
Jack-o-Lanterns dotted the hallways, blinking at those who passed by, sometimes following them for a short distance before returning to their post. Bats swooped around the ceilings while an excess of spider webs appeared throughout the school. Crookshanks would often accompany her on such adventures, sticking close to her and complaining that she was out of bed.
"Well if you're so bothered by it, go back to the room," she would hiss at ginger cat.
By the time Halloween came, Severus was but a shell of a man, and Hermione tried her hardest to end up in Minerva's office. After the Halloween feast, Dobby took Hermione to Minerva's office, where she helped her grade papers. Hermione listened to the old woman chatter on about the news and other things that Hermione hadn't the privilege to know about, seeing as she was confined to Severus' chambers and he disliked talking of such things.
Eventually, Minerva dozed off, and Hermione threw her quill onto the desk with a sigh. Without a second glance Hermione made her way back to the dungeons, keeping her eyes peeled for any trouble. Quietly she entered the room and saw that there was a candle lit in the bedroom. She found herself afraid of what she was going to find beyond the door, but she forced herself to look anyway.
Hermione pushed the door opened and found Severus' limp figure, face down and sprawled out across the bed. Instantly she noticed the empty bottle of Firewhiskey clutched in his hand while the gold sealant was on the bedside table. He'd drunk himself straight into unconsciousness, and all in one sitting. That's why he didn't want her there.
She approached the bed and pulled the empty bottle from his fingers and placed it on the bedside table. Hermione's eyes strayed to his other hand, seeing some kind of paper clutched in his fingers. She sat on the bed and leaned over him to pull the paper out. He groaned, but didn't wake up.
Her eyes strayed to his face, waiting for him to open his eyes, and when he didn't, she spread the paper out on her thigh, hunching over it to see the lettering. It was a newspaper article, very old given the yellowish color and the fact that it looked as if it had been through the laundry. Hermione instantly recognized the man's face, because it looked like it belonged to her best friend and there was a beautiful woman wrapped around his waist.
"On the very evening that You-Know-Who's power was put to a stop, the wizarding world lost two very talented people. James and Lily Potter, parents to the now famous Harry Potter, were killed in their home moments before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's rein ended. Their funerals will take place tomorrow evening and are opened to the public. The whereabouts of Harry Potter are not known, but Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry assures all magical folks that the young boy is in good hands. All of us will forever owe ourselves to the two brave souls who sacrificed their lives for their son, and this small boy who helped vanquish our world from the greatest threat we have ever known,"
"Oh God," Hermione murmured.
"My fault,"
Hermione jumped as the sound of his hoarse voice and slightly slurred speech. She turned to find his dark eyes on her, his cheek pressed to the bed.
"Why do you do this to yourself?" Hermione said, tossing the article to the floor.
"I killed her," he mumbled quietly, gazing off into the distance with his bloodshot eyes.
"No you didn't, Severus,"
Hermione stretched out beside him, slightly propped up on the pillows as her eyes remained locked on his form.
"Yes, yes, I did. I told him, I told him everything. If I wasn't so envious of Potter…Potter always got everything he wanted…always,"
Her hand reached out and stroked his hair gently, causing him to sigh.
"I should be dead right now, I don't have the right to be breathing," he muttered, sounding so heartbroken that Hermione had to choke back her own tears.
"No, if anyone deserves to live, it's you. You've sacrificed so much to this cause; you deserve a second chance,"
His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her to him. Without a word Severus buried his face in her neck and sighed deeply.
"I killed her, the one person I cared about in this world and I killed her…just like I'm going to kill you,"
Hermione pressed her lips against his forehead and ran her fingers through his hair.
"We're both going to be fine at the end of this; I trust that you're going to make sure we get through this war. I trust you with everything,"
"I'm going to get you killed," he murmured again causing his unshaven face to slightly scrape across her skin.
"Just go to sleep, you've had a difficult day,"
"I can't let her go, I can't,"
Hermione felt her confidence deflate in an instant. Her husband, the man she loved, was still caught up with a woman who had been dead for nearly twenty years.
"It's alright," she muttered in a shaky voice, trying to repress her feelings.
He gave a single laugh and lifted his head to look at her with droopy eyes.
"Only you would tell your husband it was alright to be in love with a dead woman,"
Hermione looked at him for a moment before looking away.
"You love her," she said simply.
"I don't know," he replied with a furrow brow.
"Severus, it's alright if you do, I understand,"
"I don't think that I do anymore,"
"They why are you doing this?" she asked.
His eyes refocused on her, suddenly filled with sadness again.
"Guilt,"
That was the last thing either said that night. Hermione spent most of her night stroking his hair and watching him sleep soundly against her.
The next morning, Hermione awoke alone. Instantly she flung herself out of bed and darted to the living room, but she didn't have to look far. Severus was kneeling before the fireplace, gently stoking the flames. He turned around and looked at her for a moment, and without a single word, turned back to his task. For a man who drank an entire bottle of Firewhiskey, he looked surprisingly decent.
"I apologize for my behavior last night, it was inappropriate," he muttered with his back to her.
"But perfectly understandable," Hermione replied easily while sinking onto the sofa.
"Do you always have to do that?" he snapped viciously turning on her.
"What?"
"Forgive everyone?"
"Why not? You have to forgive people for the things they did to you, it's human nature,"
"No, people don't forgive as much as you do. You never hold anything against anyone!"
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Yes, it is! You're too naïve!" he growled.
Hermione didn't really care what he was saying; she knew he was just angry, more at himself than anything.
"Perhaps, but I don't want to go through my whole life holding grudges against people,"
"Well you should, they make you remember why you should never trust people,"
Hermione raised her eyes to his figure, silhouetted with the firelight.
"Do you trust me?" she asked calmly.
He glared at her for a while before turning back to the fire. He didn't trust her? Had she ever given him any reason not to? Hermione's thoughts whirled as she tried to find a moment they had shared in which she may have offended him. His deep sigh drew her from her thoughts.
"Sometimes," he said quietly.
"Sometimes?"
"Well I certainly am not going to trust you completely, that would be irrational,"
"What would be so irrational about trusting someone?"
"Does anything make you think it is rational to trust, unconditionally, the mind of an eighteen year old girl?"
"I'm not an idiot," Hermione said, using a slightly harsher tone.
"I never made a comment against your intelligence. You have no experience with life; technically, you aren't even out of school yet. I will not trust an eighteen year old girl,"
"I trust you," Hermione offered meekly.
"As you logically should, I am old and have much more experience than you do when it comes to these things,"
"I don't trust you because you're old," she snapped standing up. "Besides, you're not even that old,"
"I'm probably as old as your father, am I not?" he asked, peering at her over his shoulder.
"Age doesn't matter,"
Hermione suddenly knew that she wasn't talking about trust anymore. She trusted him with her life; she loved him to her very core, with every fiber of her being. She would gladly follow him blindly into battle because she knew he would never allow harm to befall her.
"I beg to differ," he replied solemnly.
"For someone who claims to be all knowing about life, you still have a lot to learn,"
Hermione left the room then, curling back up under the warm sheets of their bed, allowing herself a few short moments to cry.