17. Stalked
S.
Waking up next to Hermione failed to lose its novelty even a week after the first time. Severus would watch her, studying the rise of her chest and hold his breath, until it fell. She was beautiful in her pleasure, but more beautiful still in her comfort, curled in his sheets, her hair strewn across his pillow. She was as lovely now, muttering to herself in her sleep, as she had been the night before, as he'd looked down on her, her legs wrapped around his hips as he brought her to her peak. When her eyes opened, she studied his face with concern and then as he smiled, she did too. She rolled onto her side, pulling Severus down beside her, and closing his eyes, he surrendered heavy fog of early morning.
He fell to sleep in golden hues and awoke with a jerk to bright, piercing white light. Severus shook himself awake as the noise that had stirred him came again. Someone was knocking - no, hammering - on his door. Hermione shot up in the bed and grabbed her wand from the nightstand.
"It's just the door", Severus said, pulling open the dresser drawers, and searching for something to wear.
He threw Hermione an old band t-shirt, so old that he could hardly recall a song by said band, and she grabbed it and curled back up into the bed. He tugged on his trousers, as he hopped down the stairs and the pounding on the door came again.
Alright, I'm coming!
Just as he approached the door, the knocking came a third time.
Oh my God, he thought, as he snatched open the door. Somebody had better be dead.
"... Cressida?"
Cressida stood on the doorstep with a happy little smile on her face as she looked him up and down.
"Did I wake you?" she asked. "It's past nine."
He held his hand out to stop her as she moved to cross the threshold.
"What are you doing here? Do we have plans I'm not aware of?"
She shook her head and patted him on his chest. Her hand was warm, and a little clammy on his skin.
"I just thought I'd stop by. I haven't heard from you for a while."
Yes. That was quite by design.
Severus stepped in front of her, blocking her path again, and she let out a perplexed little laugh that he found wormed right under his skin.
"Cressida", he said, with all of the kindness, he could muster, "I'm sorry. I don't understand. What are you doing here?"
"I thought I'd cook you breakfast?" she said, and her thin eyebrows furrowed, as though she had absolutely no idea what line she had crossed.
"Why?" he asked again, slack-jawed, completely baffled by this show of domesticity. "The last time we spoke—"
"Oh, all is forgiven", she said, batting the air. "Water under the bridge."
No. Not under the bridge. Very much over the fucking bridge.
"Cressida. I'm sorry, I think you—"
But he did not a get chance to finish, as the buzzing of the alarm clock drew both of their attention up the stairs, and Cressida used the distraction to enter his home. She began to move around it, as though she belonged there, but he couldn't recall ever having her in his home.
I do drink a lot...
"Have you been here before?" he asked, as she stepped through the hallway, into the living room and dropped her bag at the side of the sofa.
"No, I haven't. Oh, this is lovely."
"Thank you", he said stiffly.
"I've missed you", she said.
Oh God, does she think we're still together?
"Cressida. Listen to me," Severus said. "We should talk."
"Aren't you going to offer me a cup of tea, first?" she said sweetly, as she simpered.
Oh, it's so awkward.
"I know that we have a lot to straighten—"
She didn't finish her sentence, as she began to look around the room and take in the obvious signs of another houseguest. Hermione's shoes tucked under the armchair. Hermione's underwear on the floor where he had removed them last night before taking her to his bed. Hermione's beaded bag, too feminine to pass as his, open on the coffee table.
Are you going to try to pass off the knickers as yours too?
God, I ended this. I did end this. I did.
Did I?
"Severus", she said in a small voice, "do you have someone here?"
He considered telling her the truth.
Would a lie be kinder?
Yes, he decided, a lie would be kinder, as Hermione's oblivious footsteps sounded on the stairs. Severus hung his head.
"Yes. Hermione. You remember I told you about her?"
"Did she stay the night?"
"Like I told you…" Severus said, "…we need to talk."
Her face burst pink as she forced herself not to cry. She blew deep breaths from her cheeks that puffed out and retracted. Severus summoned a couple of glasses, and a bottle of whisky from the kitchen and urged her to sit down.
"I know it's a little early", he said, "but I think we need this."
She pushed the glass away, but it kept nudging at her side until she grabbed it by the stem and slammed it into the coffee table.
"Oh god. Okay", she said. "Okay. I'm sorry. I suppose that we never said we were exclusive..."
She patted her puffy cheeks with the back of her hand.
"You are well within your rights", she said, and Severus felt his mouth drop agape like it was ripe to catch flies. "You should know, however, that I only date exclusively. So, if you will please ask her to leave, we can talk about this."
Never in his life had Severus gaped, but here he was, utterly fucking flabbergasted.
"Cressida, I think you should leave", he said, bewildered. "I don't—"
"Yes, quite right", she interrupted, nodding. "Get rid of the girl whenever is convenient and I will come back later. Let her down gently, Severus, be kind."
You're crazy. You're actually insane.
Severus cleared his throat.
"It is you who I must let down gently".
Very fucking gently. What did Lucius say about my balls? I am quite attached to them.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
What? What is happening?
"Cressida…", he said, as kindly as he could manage. "We spoke last week, do you remember? I told you things weren't working…"
"Yes!" she snapped. "I'm not slow. I remember our conversation. I just figured you needed time to come around. Maybe you needed space…"
How do I handle this?
Honesty. She deserves honesty.
"I'm sorry, Cressida, no. I'm with Hermione now."
"… You're together?"
Her bottom lip began to tremble, and Severus swallowed his guilt.
"Yes. I'm sorry", he said. "I'm in love with her."
I'm in love with her! I love her. I want everyone to know. I want to fucking yell it from the top of the astronomy tower.
"I'm sorry", he said.
She began to shake her head and muttered, "no, not possible, no", to herself, and as his words sunk in and took their effect, she became utterly still. Then he heard it, an intake of breath so sharp, he felt that she meant to stab him with it, but it wasn't anger, he realised, because then followed a long, pathetic wail of grief. He had never heard anything like it. He had seen people tortured who made less of a fuss as she sobbed, her body wracking with absolute devastation.
"I can't believe what I'm hearing", she said between deep breaths. "I can't believe it."
"I'm so sorry", he said again, and he was.
He had known he might hurt her - Narcissa had spelt out the possibility from the beginning - but the reality was much worse. He hadn't wanted to hurt her, he just hadn't much considered that he could.
"I thought that we were both in agreement", he said. "I thought our relationship was over."
Her breath hitched in her throat.
"Well, you thought wrong!"
No. You did.
She lay her palms on her knees and bent over a little as though she was preparing for a crash landing.
"Are you okay?" he asked, and took a gulp of his whisky.
You might not need a drink, but I certainly do.
"Of course, I'm not okay! Jesus Christ, Severus. I came here thinking I would make you breakfast. I wasn't expecting this."
Five dates. We went on five dates. We had sex twice.
You shouldn't have let her meet your friends.
Idiot.
She stood up and began pointing her finger at him.
"What is the matter with you?!" she yelled. "Do you just go around destroying people's lives?"
She approached him, and he thought for a second that she would hit him. Instead, she threw her hands over her face as she heaved with sobs and then moved her body towards him as though she thought he would take her in his arms.
He almost did, he felt himself move towards her, simply out of sheer embarrassment. She threw her arms around him and lunged as though to kiss him. He tried to push her away, but she threw all of her weight at him, and so he moved aside and dodged her advance.
"Don't end this", she begged. "I can't bear to be without you."
Oh, this is awful.
"Cressida. Stop. Please."
Hermione's voice came from the doorway and caught both of their attention.
Thank Christ.
:
H.
"Is everything okay?", Hermione asked, and she moved towards Cressida, as she said, "are you okay?"
"Don't you speak to me!" the woman sobbed. "This is all your fault."
Hermione had to take a deep breath as Severus stared at her, then to the woman, with absolute horror.
"You're making a fool of yourself", Severus said, and his tone came sharp and irritable.
"You have made a fool of me!" the woman yelled. "You both, not me!"
Then the rest of the woman's words got lost in her blubbering, her face thick with snot and Hermione felt her stomach turn. Not because it was unsightly, which it was, but because she felt guilty.
Am I the other woman?
"I thought you broke up with her", Hermione said, raising her eyebrows.
Severus raised his hands in the air and his wide, frightful eyes caused a rumble of humour in Hermione's gut again.
"So did I!" he said.
"Are you okay?" she asked the woman again, who did not answer; turning to Severus she said, "…is she okay?"
"I'm fine!", Cressida snapped. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here, you horrible… ugh! You awful—"
And that was enough for Severus. He had had enough. All of the composure he had learned over the last seven years were gone, and he stood before them as imposing and terrifying as ever he was as her teacher.
"Cressida, Please", he said, gritting his teeth and curling his lips around each word, "leave."
"Severus, come on", she said. "Remember how good we have it together."
The woman moved towards him, and when he stepped backwards, she took two forwards and placed her hands on his chest and Severus raised his arms and his face went deathly white. His fingers curled into fists as she stroked the length of his torso, her skin on his skin, her hands on her Severus. Her Severus whose face was dark and livid, offended as he was by this unwanted touch, but he could not lay a finger on her.
:
S.
"Right", Hermione said. "Come on. It's time for you to leave."
Cressida turned her red face to Hermione who marched into the room, brave in just her socks and his shirt, that slipped off her shoulder. Her hair pulled into a messy knot at the back of her head. Her makeup smudged. She wore their night together as armour as she stepped into the living room. Fearless. Beautiful.
"This is your fault!" Cressida wailed. "You're the reason he doesn't want to be with me?!"
Hermione folded her arms and tapped her foot.
"Exactly! He does not want to be with you. So… you'll be leaving, then?"
Oh my god, she's brutal.
"Severus, why are you doing this?" Cressida asked with small, tearless sobs; her hands flat against his bare chest. "Why do you want her? She's a girl. You need a woman."
You only have five years on her, and you're the one acting like a child.
Hermione stood tall, raised her hand with her wand outstretched and he thought for a minute she would hex the woman. Instead, she whipped her wand at a vase on the counter and sent it hurtling across the room so that it smashed against the picture frames and they all fell to the ground, in a shock of broken glass, the sound deafening and haunting. Cressida shrunk under the noise, placing her head on his chest, on purpose or involuntarily, he did not know or care.
"I will clean that up", she told him, through her gritted teeth, sniping her wand at Cressida, "now... "
Her eyes fell to the woman.
"… Take your hands off him."
Yes, Hermione. Mark your territory. Claim me.
Cressida backed away and she looked at him, her eyes big and pleading like a prey caught in the sights of a hunter and Hermione was a lioness after all.
"Severus, please."
Hermione took a deep breath then, and she moved closer to Cressida in a way that told everybody present that she was not fucking around.
"Look, Cressida", she said, pronouncing every syllable like it physically hurt her to mention her name, "we have asked you nicely to leave-"
"'We'?! This isn't your house. You can't tell me what to do", she snipped, pulling her own wand out of her pocket, then.
Oh, lovely. Are they going to duel? What are you, a bloody damsel? Winner takes you roughly on your settee?
Fine by me, Lucius. I hope Hermione wins.
"I will not ask you again", Hermione said, her eyebrows narrowed and her lip curled into a snarl. "Get your hands off him."
Yes. Tell her. I'm yours.
Hermione grabbed Cressida's bag from the floor and shoved it into her arms.
"Take your shit. And get out."
I love you.
:
H.
"And you say I'm mad", Hermione said as she ran her finger through the cream on her hot chocolate and licked it off.
"She seemed so normal".
"I kind of feel bad for her, though", she said.
He draped his arm over her shoulder and she propped her legs over his knees.
"You do?"
"Yeah. It's hard", she said "…losing you."
Severus furrowed his brow and tilted his head, quizzically.
"What do you mean? "
She looked into her cup, not quite sure whether it was wise to meet his eye. Not sure how he would react. Not sure if she should even bring it up.
"Hermione? What do you mean?"
Just say it.
"Seven years ago. You walked out of my life and you didn't look back."
He sighed and stroked her shoulders with his hands.
"Well, that's not quite true. I did nothing but look back."
She rested her head on his shoulder and mumbled into her cup.
"And then again, after we slept together... That's twice."
He nodded. She wasn't entirely wrong, he supposed.
"I could bore you with my reasons, but suffice it to say that I was hurt and I… acted accordingly."
"Please bore me with your reasons", she said. "Sometimes I feel like I know you so well, but other times, you are a complete mystery to me."
"Isn't mystery part of the appeal?"
"No", she said, flatly. "I don't want the mystery anymore. I want to know everything about you."
"That could take a long time."
"I have the time", she said.
I hope we have all the time in the world.
He dropped his head on top of hers, and his hair fell over her face. She wrinkled her nose and he chuckled as he pulled it to one side.
"Fine", he said, a little begrudgingly. "What would you like to know?"
"I want to know… I wondered if you would tell me… what happened seven years ago… what happened y'know... that night to make you leave?"
He straightened his back and cleared his throat as he said, "alright."
"I was… dependent on you for everything", he said. "You became my entire world for a while, given that I didn't leave the house - it stirred up feelings I hadn't anticipated. Then when I saw you with Weasley... and your little… display…"
He grinned beside her and rubbed the stubble of his chin with an open hand.
"How you teased me."
Hermione sat upright and dropped her mug to the table beside her. She swung around to face him and sat cross-legged.
"Okay", she said. "I'll admit, I knew that's what I was doing. But it was supposed to jolt you into action, not send you running."
He smirked as he ran his hands along the lines of her thigh.
"Running is an action."
She furrowed her eyebrows and pursed her lips in an attempt to hide her smile.
"You know what I mean", she said, and she moved in towards him, to look at his face; to touch it. "Why did you run?"
It was still a novelty that she acted this way around him. Her touch was so familiar and yet so foreign. It had been such a long time since someone had wanted to touch him, just for the sake of it. Just to feel him. No expectation. No ulterior motive. He took her hands from his head and cradled them in his palms.
"Hermione, it might surprise you to learn that I am quite accustomed to women making advances."
"Why would that surprise me?"
He moved so that he could look at her properly.
"You have looked at me, I assume?
"Yes", she said. "I like what I see."
:
S.
"I like what I see."
"Well that would make you part of a very small minority", he said. "But, another thing that sets you apart from every other woman who has shown an interest, is that you are still interested. I am not accustomed to women making advances, and seeing them through. I am not the sort of man that people ask to stay for breakfast. Women do not fall in love with me."
And if they do. They do not stay so for long.
"Well, Cressida seems to have fallen in love with you", Hermione said, tracing the lines of his palms as though she didn't want to make eye contact.
"Yes, I didn't see that coming. I'm afraid that puts you both in a very unfortunate, two-person club. Perhaps you could get jackets?"
Her eyes were wide as she looked up to face him, and he studied the twitch in the corner of her lips.
"Did you just assume that I'm in love with you?"
I know you're in love with me.
"Shit. I'm sorry" he said, purposefully looking down, hoping that his cheeks would flush red – not that he believed his pallor capable of such a thing.
"I shouldn't have", he said. "I was wrong, obviously. I'm sorry."
She grabbed his hands again.
"No", she said. "You err- I mean, you weren't wrong, exactly… I just—"
Severus felt his mouth split into a grin and her eyes traced his face as her eyebrows furrowed. He saw the moment that she realised what she had said, as her mouth dropped open, but her eyes were bright with her smile.
"Are you manipulating me?"
"I prefer 'cunning' rather than 'manipulative', but yes", he said. "You have spent too much time with Gryffindors, my love. Have you forgotten that I am a Slytherin?"
"You bastard", she said with narrow eyes that he knew she didn't mean.
"Quite right", he said, a little proudly. "But I am a bastard, that I believe you were about to admit to loving."
"That's not fair", she said, but she grinned and bit her lower lip. "I do though."
"You do what?" he asked, feigning ignorance.
"… love… you."
He furrowed his eyebrows and smirked.
"Sorry, I don't understand. Would you mind using a full sentence?"
"I love you, you bastard", she said, screwing her face up playfully. "Are you happy now?"
"Yes", he said as his smirk transformed into a genuine smile. "Yes, I'm very happy."
I've never been so happy.
Or more terrified.
"It should be said though, I would never…" he said. "I have… in the past, used that… ability, let's call it, to force— no… to influence people for personal gain. But I won't ever do that to you. Well, not again. I would never hurt you…"
"Oh, I know", she said, shrugging.
There was no trace of doubt on her face. She knew who he was – who he had been – and she wasn't afraid of him.
Bloody Gryffindors.
"Why didn't you use your little 'ability' to get us here sooner?" she asked, and she tucked her hand into his shirt sleeve, running her fingers across the scar on his arm. "We've wasted months going around in circles. I knew years ago, Severus…"
"I wasn't ready", he said, cautiously. "I was…"
He sighed.
"I was afraid… I have built walls around me, ten foot high, to avoid… well… exactly this."
He felt sick. This was unchartered territory. It was the first time in seven years that he had really let his guard down. Admitting his fear was perhaps even more vulnerable than professing his love.
"What were you afraid of? Being hurt?" she asked.
"Among other things. I still am."
:
H.
Hermione knew that she had to play the next thirty seconds very carefully. Severus hadn't been this close to opening up to her for years. She couldn't ask outright, nor could she leave it to him to continue talking without a little prompting.
"I'm sorry", she said.
He laughed.
"Why?"
"I've hurt you…"
I know I've hurt you. I'm sorry. I know.
His eyes moved across her face, and she felt scrutinised under his gaze. She dropped her head to the table and stared at her presumably-no-longer-hot chocolate.
"Mmm."
No, don't do that. Talk to me.
"The first time we slept together", she said, and she paused to chew her cheek. "I shouldn't have left you…"
"I should have asked you to stay", he shrugged.
"You shouldn't have had to ask."
He shrugged and said, "perhaps", before pulling her onto his lap and kissing her forehead.
She closed her eyes as he ran his hands along the lines of her back. This was the happiest she had ever been. And yet, it felt as though it could all come hurtling down to the ground if he didn't learn to communicate. As he kissed her cheeks, her jaw, her chin before moving to her lips, she realised that she was just as ineffective at communicating as he was. If not worse. She'd had no problem with Ron and Harry because she saw them as her equals.
And when she had found Severus on the floor of the Shrieking Shack they had returned to her home on level footing. But seven years later, Severus had the world at his feet, and Hermione had the world on her shoulders. It made her feel like…
Oh.
Oh!
"I've been stupid", she said.
"Hermione, you are one of the—"
"No", she said, cupping his hand in hers. "I have been such an idiot. Do you know what my boggart was in my third year?"
He raised an eyebrow in question.
"Don't tell me it was me. Did you dress me in your grandmother's clothes?" he asked with a smirk.
"No, that was Neville."
"Oh, I heard", he said, rolling his eyes. "Remus didn't think it was particularly funny. He gave me a stern talking to. Rightly so, I suppose. Just don't ever let him know I said that."
They shared a grin and she felt her fear dissolve.
"My boggart", she said, squeezing his hand, "was McGonagall giving me a failing grade."
He pressed his lips together as though to suppress his laughter, which she thought, was actually very kind of him. Ron and Harry had hardly even bothered.
"Okay", he said. "I can understand that. Nobody likes failure."
"Right", she said with a sorrowful smile, "but that's exactly it. When I saw you at the restaurant, you seemed so sure of yourself. You had a great job, you had good friends, you were dating, you were so… confident. It just reminded me that I had a job that I hadn't earned, a boyfriend who didn't love me, and no friends outside Ron's family. When I went home, I just sort of sat in the darkness alone with my feelings, and I couldn't understand how I had allowed my life to become… it felt like my life…"
"Belonged to somebody else?" he offered.
"Yeah", she said, leaning her head into his chest. "I realised that somewhere down the line, I'd totally messed up. And so I clung to my relationship with Ron, even though I knew there was nothing left to save. I'm so sorry, Severus. I didn't… I don't know… I just wanted to have one thing – just one damn thing that I hadn't failed at. I mean, even now, my job at the library… you got that for me… I have nothing that I have earned on my own merit."
Severus shifted his weight beneath her, and she moved so that he could break free. His face was dark, but there was something of a smile on his lips.
"I still can't believe it, I always thought I'd end up—"
"Err- Hermione, I didn't get you the job."
"I know I had to do the interview by myself", she said, "but if you hadn't put in a good word—"
"I didn't", he said regretfully. "I'm sorry. I know I said I would, but from the moment you left the restaurant, I regretted offering to help you get the job. By the time I got home, I'd decided that I couldn't risk working with you. I was afraid that all the confusing feelings I'd had before would come back with a vengeance, and…" he smirked, "well, look at us now."
She grinned at him and he put his arm around her shoulder.
"All I did was give you information that you could have gotten with a thorough google search and tell you to prepare to defend your favourite book, which I'm sure you could have done without prompting. Everything else was you. You got the job because you're brilliant."
"You think I'm brilliant?" she asked.
"Are you kidding? You're the brightest witch of her age", he said, and then the smirk returned to his face. "You're not quite as bright as me, of course."
She narrowed her eyebrows.
"Right. You and me" she said, "wizard's chess, right now. I assume you have a set?"
"Of course, I do", Severus said, "But I should warn you. I never lose."
Hermione smiled.
"Neither do I. Maybe you've finally met your match, Severus Snape."
Severus thought back to his conversation with Lucius over a game of chess. Lucius had known then, what had taken him these past months to learn. He had lived a whole lifetime inside his mind. Always afraid to say what he felt. In his teens, he had kept his mouth shut for fear of ridicule. Later, for fear of The Dark Lord's wrath. He had learned to occlude, had even taught Narcissa to occlude, for fuck's sake. He had spent his life keeping his feelings as closely guarded secrets, and those who knew parts of his soul, were, too, sworn to secrecy.
'But never - never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us!... I want your word!'
'My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?'
After the Dark Lord had vanished, Severus had continued to keep himself under cloak and dagger.
Mostly cloak.
Severus remained a mystery until the day he almost died, and even then, the memories he had given Potter were rose-tinted and carefully selected. He had never been honest. He had become so accustomed to lying that it took the wind out of him to tell the truth. Except with Narcissa, who had known him long before he'd become so damn neurotic. Whatever, or whoever, he had been before Lily had died, was who he needed to channel now. He was Severus Snape. He would not be afraid anymore. He owed it to himself, and to the woman he loved, to finally reveal the best of himself.
All of the best of himself.
"Okay, Hermione", he said. "Let's play."