Chapter 11: The Crack in His Fortress
"Are you looking forward to Christmas holidays?" I asked as I passed Severus a cup of tea on the Friday evening of the last day of classes before the two week break. Our evenings had returned to their fairly pleasant, routine state, filled with much reading and occasionally conversation that stayed firmly away from the night of The Kiss.
"I'm afraid it only means I can expect more summonses from the Dark Lord," said Snape in a resigned tone from his couch across from mine.
"I'm guessing the Dark Lord doesn't throw jolly parties or give out gifts?" I tried to joke even as I felt a sinking feeling in my gut, praying he would not return to me broken and bloodied over the next two weeks.
Severus, however, chuckled. "No, not typically," he said. "Though we are expected to give him something."
"Haven't you already given him enough?" I asked disbelievingly, ever so glad the snakelike bastard would be dead in a matter of months.
"Hermione, when you are a Death Eater, you are expected to give him everything," said Snape patiently. "Your body, your soul, your mind, your magic, your gold, your property, and your skills—they all belong to him and he can use them whenever and however he wishes."
"That's not exactly true for you though, is it?" I said with a small smile.
"No, not for me," he said with a sly grin, exposing the edge of his yellowed teeth.
"So what will you give him?" I asked curiously.
"Some rare potions," he said and took a sip of his tea.
"Will they help him?"
"Not too much, I hope," he said, and then his body stiffened and he clutched his left arm to his belly.
"Speak of the devil?" I asked forlornly.
"I'm afraid I must go," he said, putting his tea aside and standing from the sofa.
"Stay safe, Severus," I said.
"I'll be fine, Hermione. Please don't wait up for me," he replied. With that, he strode quickly out of the room, warding the door behind him.
Of course, I didn't follow his instructions and remained awake until he returned.
"I thought I told you to go to bed," he said as he spotted me on the sofa.
"How did it go?" I asked, putting my book on the coffee table next to the long cold tea service.
Severus sighed and flopped down on the sofa, leaning his head back and rubbing his temples.
"Not good then?"
Instead of answering me, Snape kicked off his boots and waved his wand so a fresh pot of tea appeared before us, tendrils of steam curling from the spout. He then filled us both cups, and I took mine with a quirk of my eyebrow, wondering what exactly had happened at the Death Eater meeting to make Severus act this way. Not that him serving me tea was all that unusual, but there was a tension in his body and a depth to his eyes that made me sure that something was wrong. He wasn't bleeding, so I'd have to be patient to find out what that something was.
When we'd both settled down comfortably on our respective sofas, Severus took a sip of tea and then began to speak.
"Do you know Xenophilius Lovegood?" he asked.
"Yes, that's Luna Lovegood's father. He runs The Quibbler," I answered.
"Well, Lovegood's been printing stories that have angered the Dark Lord, and he means to stop it," he said.
"I remember," I said simply, not wanting to elaborate on the fact that, now that I was thinking of it, Xenophilius was going to try to hand Harry, Ron and I over to the Voldemort in exchange for Luna.
Tomorrow. She gets taken tomorrow, I thought sadly.
"Well, his daughter Luna—a friend of yours I believe," he said, and I nodded in confirmation, knowing where this was going, but interested in what Severus had to say none-the-less, "—is going to be taken tomorrow on her way back home for the holidays. It was the only way I could think of dissuading the Dark Lord from killing Xenophilius outright. I know it puts your friend in harm's way, but she won't be sent to Azkaban. I believe she'll be safe at Malfoy Manor."
"She'll be fine," I said, knowing that fact to be true. She'd also make friends with Ollivander during her captivity.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Well, yes, I saw her—or I will see her," I said. Severus's eyes darkened, and he shifted on the sofa uncomfortably.
"I thought you would be angry," he admitted. It was an odd statement, coming from Severus Snape. He wasn't one to lay his feelings on his sleeve for anyone to see. But perhaps that meant he really did think we were friends after all?
"Angry at what? You haven't done anything wrong," I said. "Luna is going to be okay, and you just told me you did it to save her father's life."
Severus narrowed his eyes at me, not in an angry way, but as though he couldn't figure out what I was saying.
"Severus, honestly, I appreciate you telling me, and thank you for saving Luna's father," I said, wanting to prove my honesty.
Severus sighed, running his fingers over his Adam's apple. "You are far too kind," he muttered so quietly I could barely hear him. It was said with disdain, but even so, from Severus it was a glowing compliment.
"And maybe you deserve some kindness," I said, and took another sip of tea, thinking our conversation was over. But of course, this was Severus Snape, the man of an apparently infinite amount of surprises.
"How can you be so forgiving?" he asked forlornly.
I looked at him, not sure if he was actually serious, and was startled when I saw the pained expression on his face. He looked at me imploringly, letting his stubborn walls fall from his face, and I knew I needed to answer him seriously.
"People make mistakes—I've made mistakes. Most people deserve a second chance, especially if you care about them," I said.
"No matter what they did?" asked Severus, his voice still silky, but with a pleading undertone that took me off guard.
"No, not no matter what," I said carefully. "And sometimes you can forgive and not forget. But it depends, doesn't it? On intentions, and how often it's happened before, and the circumstances. It's not always simple. But if you care about someone, you at least need to give them the chance to explain. And more often than not I think forgiveness is warranted, especially if the person seems honestly remorseful."
Severus was quiet for a moment, as if considering what I'd said, and then he asked, his voice barely a whisper, "What if I called you a Mudblood?"
"Well," I said, trying not to appear shocked at such an odd question. "Like I said, it would depend on the circumstances. In what context would you be calling me a Mudblood?"
"Don't say it," said Severus, shaking his head, the ends of his thin hair flicking back and forth across his shoulders. "It doesn't matter, never mind," he said, turning his head away from me.
Clearly it did matter very much, from the way he was staring at the fire, as if a ghost might rise out of the ashes to flay him.
"Would you mean it like You-Know-Who means it?" I asked, thinking another approach was warranted.
"No!" he blurted, turning to me with wide eyes as if shocked I'd even suggest it. I smiled, hoping to calm him.
"Then I'd probably forgive you, especially if you apologized after. At least, I'd try to understand the reason why you said it," I said, thinking this was the last conversation I ever expected to be having with the normally stern and guarded headmaster.
My answer seemed to pain Severus greatly, and he covered his face with his hands, so all I could see was the tip of his long nose and pieces of his bushy black eyebrows as they furrowed into a deep V.
I realised then that perhaps these were not such random questions, that he wasn't trying to understand me so much as his own situation—one I clearly knew too little about.
"Severus," I said, treading carefully. "Did something happen? Did you call someone a Mu—that—who didn't forgive you?"
He lifted his head and stared at me incredulously, his eyes wide and searching.
"Potter… he didn't…?" he said, his hoarse voice trailing off in a question.
"What about Harry, Severus?" I said, confused at the mention of my best friend, but Severus didn't answer me. Slowly I lifted myself from my couch and sat gently next to him, his eyes following me as I did so.
"Severus," I said, "please tell me: do you think you don't deserve forgiveness for something?"
"I—" he began, and then his face contorted into a strange mixture of anger and despair. He clasped the front of his robes as if he was in great pain and his shoulders lurched forward, his breath wild and unsteady.
"Severus!" I squeaked. Not knowing if he was in physical pain, I cast a diagnostic charm over him, only to find him perfectly healthy. And yet to my eyes he'd never appeared so fragile as he did then, his body curled in on itself, his eyes squeezed shut, and his breath coming in great wheezing gasps. Even when he was in a murderous rage he was predictable and strong. But this, this was completely out of character for the man I knew as Severus Snape, and I had no idea what to do to stop him from physically crumbling in front of me.
"Severus," I said timidly. "Severus, what's wrong?"
Tentatively, I reached out and touched his shoulder, smoothing my hand along the thick fabric of his robes. I wasn't expecting the reaction I received: suddenly his arms were around me and gripping me so hard I thought he might crush me. His face was in my hair, his long nose resting in the space between my neck and my shoulder, and I could feel his heavy breathing hum against my chest.
I put my arms around him and drew him into a hug, the only thing I could think of doing at that moment. I had no idea why, but he seemed to need comfort, and I only hoped I could give it to him.
"Severus, it's okay," I said, resting my cheek against his head and running my hand down his curving spine. "Whatever it is, I'm sure you deserve forgiveness."
I felt him stiffen in my arms, and then he moved like a swift panther, pushing me backwards onto the couch and mauling my lips with his own. It took me several seconds to realise what was happening, and then all I could sense was stars exploding in front of my eyes.
And then his tongue snaked its way into my mouth.
Death Eater meetings, Mudbloods, forgiveness, and whatever else we'd been talking about left my mind as quickly as a startled deer. This man clearly wanted me, and I wanted him, had wanted him desperately for months, and now his hands were rubbing my sides as he perched over me, bruising my lips with passionate kisses.
I let out a deep moan and my hands came into his hair, pulling him down to me as I opened my mouth wider and met his wet, fleshy tongue with my own.
His hands began tugging at my robes, pulling them upwards and I quickly shifted beneath him so he was able to pull them away from my body. As our lips broke apart so he could pull the robes over my head, his eyes locked with mine. Their burning depths made my insides melt. With a single look the man had set me on fire.
As my robes were thrown to the floor, his lips quickly claimed mine again, tasting me hungrily, and then suckling the delicate flesh next to my jugular. My hips rose instinctively against his body, his lips on my flesh adding rocket fuel to the blaze inside me, and my fingers scraped up his back.
He trailed hungry kisses down my body, pulling the lace cups of my bra downwards to expose my breasts and their aching, pebbled nipples. He took one into his mouth, laving it with his tongue and then taking it between his teeth, making me moan and arch my back against him.
His beautiful hands I admired so much had worked their way between my thighs, where a pool of hot lava had formed at my centre, and he briskly tugged off my knickers as his mouth continued to attend to my wanting breasts.
"Severus," I hissed as his long fingers slipped between my wet lower lips and found my clit, making sweet circles of pleasure against it. My eyes had drooped close, and my entire world narrowed to his hands and his mouth and the dazzling fire they were stoking inside me.
I felt myself on the edge of orgasm, and suddenly felt the unrepentant urge to have his cock inside me, claiming my body as his own.
"Severus, please," I begged wantonly, the bright spark in my groin threatening to overtake me. "I want you inside me."
His mouth broke from my nipple and he looked up at me, his fingers slowing their ministrations and then dipping inside me, making my hips jerk.
"Please, Severus," I said, bending my knee and rubbing my shin against his stiffened erection through his robes. His eyes fluttered shut, his long eyelashes like raven crescents against his pale cheeks, and then he moved swiftly away from me in a flutter of robes.
His dextrous fingers made quick work of the buttons on his clothing and then he was tugging them over his head, letting them fall to the floor in a silent cascade. His eyes continued to burn into mine as he pulled off his boxers, revealing his throbbing erection. I hastily pulled off my bra and knickers and licked my lips, desperately wanting him to touch me again as I took in his lithe, sinuous body standing over me.
"Come, Severus," I said huskily, reaching my arms out to him, "I want you now."
He moved over top of me and claimed my lips once more, and I spread my legs to allow him to settle between them. I reached down and took his penis in my hand, stroking his rock hard length a few times before bringing it in line with my opening and lifting my hips so he was resting against it. He took himself inside me in one long sweeping motion, and I moaned as I felt my body adjusting to his intrusion and he began to rock inside me.
My fingers grabbed at his buttocks, pulling him deeper as he quickened his pace, his breath hot against my cheek as he panted in time with his hips, his strong arms perched on the armrest above my head. Once again I felt the fire building, a golden ember being fanned by his thrusts, and I began rocking my hips in time against his. My legs clamped around his hips and I closed my eyes, letting the sensations overtake me.
My mind had gone numb with the pleasure swirling through me like a tempest of Fiendfyre as we thrashed against each other, and then my orgasm exploded like a volcanic eruption, a wave of hot magma coursing through me. I screamed his name loudly, scraping my nails up his back as my body spasmed around his continued thrusts.
He jerked into me a few more times, and then I heard a deep grunting moan as he shuddered and came inside me, his semen slicking my channel as he continued to move back and forth until his penis began to soften.
Still panting from our exercise, he pulled out of me and collapsed to my side, pressed between my body and the back of the couch, his obsidian orbs staring unfocused across the room. His chest expanded up and out with his heavy breathing and I rolled onto my side and placed my hand on top of it, affectionately swirling my fingers through the small patch of black hair at his sternum.
"That was unexpected," I said, smiling like a Cheshire cat. I kissed his collarbone and drew my leg up over his hips, wanting to maintain our closeness.
Severus blinked at me several times as if awakening from a dream, and something changed in the depths of his eyes as they went wide and his hand grasped the one on my chest.
"Hermione, I—I—" he stammered, scrambling upwards like a trapped animal as he tried to push my hand towards me, his actions completely opposed to the possessive passion he'd shown only minutes before.
"Severus, it's okay," I said, my elation turning instantly into concern and confusion at his turn-of-face, not sure what had happened.
"What have I done?" he gasped hoarsely, peering down at my naked body, wetness still apparent between my thighs. His face was taught, his eyes terrified. "I shouldn't have. Hermione, I—"
"Severus, stop," I said, sitting up and trying to reach for him again, but he pulled away as if hit by an electric shock. "We both wanted it. I wanted it. You did nothing wrong."
"No," he said, flying over me and picking up his clothes from the floor. "No, we can't. I mustn't."
"What are you saying, Severus?" I asked, my voice sounding a bit desperate. He was making no sense at all. "What can't we do? What mustn't you do?"
"This was a mistake. I'm so sorry, Hermione. Please forgive me," he said, shoving on his boxers over his slick but wilted dick.
Not willing to leave things at that, I got up and marched towards him as he threw his robes over his head. I was still buck naked, but I didn't care. He'd seen my body, appeared to desire my body, and I wasn't going to be embarrassed about having sex with him.
He looked at me, his faced fixed in a blank stare as he finished buttoning the cuffs of his robes, and I steeled my Gryffindor courage, stepped forward confidently, and kissed him hard on the mouth, forcing my affection and desire into his lips.
"No, Hermione," he said, taking a hold of my wrists and pushing me back.
"No, what, Severus?" I asked. "No kissing? No sex? No being together?"
"No to all of it!" he shouted, pushing my arms to my sides and stepping back from me.
"Why, Severus? Don't tell me what we just did was a mistake. You obviously wanted it, and you knew I did. So what, did you just use me for sex, or is there another reason?"
"I—No, that's not it… I—I can't be involved with you, Hermione," he said lamely, his nostrils flaring.
"Why, Severus?" I asked. "Because you know I don't care that you're a spy, or that you're older than me, or whatever other stupid, insignificant reason you've made up in your head."
Severus's eyes flicked to the door as if he considered running for a moment, but then he looked back at me. His hands came over his face, reminiscent of his earlier actions before he'd pounced on me, and I waited patiently for some sort of response. When none seemed to be coming, I reached out once more and tugged at his hands, prying them away from his face.
"Why, Severus?" I asked gently. Severus stared at me, and my breath stopped at the amount of pain etched into his expression. His eyes looked as if someone had run him through with a knife.
"I can't betray her, Hermione," he whispered.
"Betray her?" I asked, frowning. Was he with someone else? No, I would have known. But then I remembered Harry telling me about Snape's memories just before I'd come back in time, and my eyes widened in realisation.
"Do you think that if you're with me, you're betraying Lily?" I asked.
He said nothing, but turned his head to the side, shielding his face with a curtain of ebony hair. Wishing I wasn't quite so naked this time, but feeling it would send the wrong message to go and get some clothes at this moment, I stepped forward again and grasped Severus's chin with my fingers, looking him in the eyes.
"Why do you think that? Why would you think that?" I asked softly. "She wasn't even with you, Severus, and even if she was, don't you think she would want you to move on? That she would want you to be happy?"
"I betrayed her once, Hermione. I can't do it again," he said, his arms held stiffly by his sides.
I dropped my fingers from his face, but he didn't look away, and I felt such sorrow for this man I cared about so deeply, who obviously still hurt so much over a loss from so long ago.
"You didn't betray her, Severus. You didn't know the prophecy was about her—how could you? And you tried to save her, Severus," I said. "Vol—You-Know-Who was the one who killed her, Peter Pettigrew, even, but not you, Severus. Not you."
I prayed my words were making an impact, but I could see him hastily rebuilding the walls of his fortress inside his mind, and so I spoke once more.
"Is that why you want to die? Because you think you deserve the same fate as Lily?" I asked, but already knowing it must be true.
"I must go," he said, and pulled away from me, striding towards the door.
"Severus, wait!" I shouted as he pulled the door open and closed it soundly behind him, and I felt the wave of his wards wash through me as he set them.
I felt tears welling up behind my eyes, and I did nothing to stop them. Except I wasn't crying because he left me there, standing naked in his rooms, but because I suddenly realised the impossibility of my task, and that he would likely never accept my love, no matter how genuine it might be, no matter how much he might want me in return.
Wiping my eyes, I turned and padded towards the bathroom, feeling our combined juices seeping down my thighs.