The night moved quickly, Severus had helped Hermione gather herself, had accompanied her to receive her award, as her escort, and then stood in the crowd with her as her two friends had done the same. Music filled the room and there was dancing.
Severus had watched closely for his witch…wrong that, not his witch, the witch, Hermione.
He spotted her, finally, against a far wall in the very back, shadowed and alone as she sipped a tall flute of champagne, her eyes caught his and she glanced away, a flush on her cheeks.
He wondered if it was due to alcohol- which he'd known she'd had much of- or if it was him. His words.
He'd meant every one, did not regret saying them.
He only regretted not kissing her before Kingsley had spotted them and tried to tear her away from him. He'd stuck to her side, only lost her once the crowd had begun to coalesce and move again.
He took the flute from her hand and set it on a table behind them, held his hand out.
"Dance with me." It wasn't a request, he would not allow her to lean against the wall and torture herself. Drown herself in her own agony.
He would do what he'd set out to do from the moment she'd shown him that small bit of fragility. He would help her find her light, somehow, it seemed she was helping him find his along the way.
"I'm clumsy, I'll crush your feet." She watched his face, unflinching he held his hand out, palm up, no choice.
"You are mine this eve witch, come, I require a dance." He insisted and she blinked up at him, he didn't miss the shake of a shiver run through her.
He smirked, if she liked those words he could certainly find more to suit her.
Her small hand grasped his, a surprised look on her face as he led her to the dance floor, pulled her into position and placed his large hands on her hips. She was staring into his face, watching, wondering why he was doing this.
"Relax Hermione, I will let you stand on my feet if you must, I only insist you remove those ridiculous shoes." He glanced down at the heels and she finally cracked a little smile up at him, relaxed into his arms.
"Much better."
"Thank you, sir." She whispered as she fell closer to him, melted into his grasp as he led her around the dancefloor. She followed perfectly, in fact, he didn't think her dancing problems were her own at all, only the poor partners she'd aligned herself with thus far.
"Severus." His voice dipped another octave and her eyes flicked open, amber burned into onyx and his hair fell around his face delicately. She brushed the strands back and settled her arm back on his shoulder.
"Severus…" She hummed, he liked the way her lips formed around his name. Yes, he would allow it, for as long as she wanted to say it. He dared not think how it would sound should she scream it. Delicious, he was willing to wager.
"Yes, Hermione?" His forehead dipped to hers, met it and lay against it, his much longer nose tickled the tip of hers and she gave him a soft smile.
She could feel eyes on her but she didn't care, he was the only thing that mattered, the only man in the world at the moment.
"Thank you." She hummed, he pulled back, pulled her into his chest and swayed her softly to the music.
They danced until nearly no one was left, and then, the witch still in his arms, turned them and apparated them to Hogwarts' gates with a loud 'pop'.
SSHG
"If ever you are lost, I shall search all the libraries of the world before moving on." Severus commented as he stepped up behind her, Hermione tensed, she'd woken unsure what would happen between them.
She didn't know what he felt, what he thought.
She didn't know what she felt for that matter.
"Good morning." She tipped her head back to look up at him, the same position they always took when he found her in the library. Her head leaned back on the couch with his hands on either side, staring down at her from above.
It had become something natural, a comfortable way that they conversed. She loved looking at him in any way that showed her those dark eyes so clearly.
"Is it, it appears to be storming outside." He smirked and her lips tipped up in a smile.
"The castle could blow away and I would be okay." He cocked an eyebrow.
"Have you been into my stores, Miss Granger?" She pursed her lips and shook her head, eyes looking worried.
He knew she was afraid he would deny her, after the night before that his mind would change.
He doubted his mind would ever change.
He stood upright, she winced, thought he was going to leave. Instead he rounded the sofa, came to stand in front of her and she watched him with caution written all over her face.
It quickly morphed to shock when he held out a hand to her, palm up. She took it, hesitantly and he pulled her to a stand, swayed her to imaginary music.
"I wanted to tell you last night, I'm afraid it is your partners who have been less than proficient dancers, you, my dear, are a lovely partner." He held her to him and she melted, her muscles relaxing as she leaned into his chest, her arms up around his neck, fingers played with the soft, downy hair at the nape of his neck.
"I thought you would change your mind, decide you didn't mean any of what you said, pretend it never happened." She breathed into his chest and he paused, drew her face up to look at him with two long, slender fingers.
"I swear I meant it, my mind has not changed, my opinion has not changed." He stared into her eyes, she blinked rising tears away.
"Hermione, how long have you been my apprentice now?" He questioned, his eyes burned into hers and she bit her lower lip. Pretty sure she knew where he was going.
"Three months." She blinked, tried to settle her flipping stomach.
"And in this time have I ever, even once, told you anything you expected to be a lie, discovered to be untrue?" He forehead touched hers and she closed her eyes, her lips parted.
He wanted them for his own, sweet, pink, plump lips, so kissable.
"Hermione." He nudged, she pulled back a bit to shake her head.
"Never."
"I will never say something to you I do not mean. I will never intentionally tell you a lie." She nodded lightly, her hair bounced around her face, loose from the bun it had been captured by the night before.
He found he quite liked it dancing around her, not restrained.
Like her, so vibrant, so different. Before he realized what he was doing his hand had left her hip to come up, fist in her hair.
Too soon, it was too soon. He couldn't do this, she was still reeling from Weasley, he would not- could not- ask this of her so soon.
He tried to withdraw but as when she suffered nightmares she dug her fingers into the skin of his back, kept him there.
"Please, please don't pull away from me, don't leave me too." And the tears fell, fresh like the rain outside down her face and the acidic feeling crawled down his throat into his gut. He pulled her to him, tangled his fingers in her wild curls.
She was hurting, was he just going to make it worse?
Could he pull away when she so clearly wanted him to stay?
He couldn't. He knew he couldn't.
He pulled her tighter to him and set his chin atop her head. So small, so important, she'd become so necessary to his everyday life.
What would he do if- when- she moved on? Would he simply fall back into his same old routines?
No, he had to find a way to keep her, to make her want to stay with him.
How?
That was the question wasn't it?
How did one win, and keep a woman such as Hermione Granger?
He supposed he would have to figure it out.