Apologies for the delay, it's been quite a week!
Severus found it difficult to pinpoint the exact emotion that assaulted his senses as he stepped out of the fire grate and into Granger's living room.
This was the first time he had been inside her personal rooms, it looked exactly as he might have imagined it. Not that he had.
The living room, similarly to his own, was surrounded by walls of books. Her space however, seemed lighter, more inviting and homely.
Granger stood next to her coffee table with her arms folded against her chest. Her stance may have exuded assertiveness but her face told a different story. Her attempt to disguise her sadness was overshadowed by the vulnerability her eyes were unintentionally projecting. Still a little glassy from her tears and open wide, gazing up at him in search of answers; she looked cautious, like she was preparing for the hurt he would inevitably cause her. Whether it be today or down the line, they both knew it was coming.
Severus patted down his robes, dislodging some soot and then using his wand to clean the mess. He was reluctant to move into the space between them, without the distraction of Occluding he feared how he might react to her at such close proximity.
It was easier to remind himself of how foolish he was for wanting her when she wasn't in his direct line of vision.
He watched as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth and pulled at it anxiously. The sight made something heavy and not entirely uncomfortable, but unwelcomed all the same lodge in his abdomen, he quickly snapped his eyes back to hers.
He wasn't intentionally waiting for her to speak first, he just wasn't sure of how to start. Anything that came to mind seemed cruel and if he was honest with himself he was a little disgusted at how he'd reacted in the corridor. With his mind freed of protective shields he realised how aggressive he had been.
Then there was the small matter of Lupin;
'A lover's tiff.'
Had she told him? How much did he know? Exhaling an unsteady breath he tried to squash down the fury rising up in his chest.
"Tea?" she finally asked.
Severus nodded his approval and watched her slump away to a cabinet adorned with beverage items. Only when her back was turned did he allow himself to move further into the room. Hesitantly he seated himself on the grey sofa. The armchairs seemed a safer choice but one was covered with a thick layer of ginger fur, and the other was occupied by the owner of said fur.
The orange mass lifted its head and looked curiously at Severus with large yellow eyes. He quirked a brow at the cat who slowly lowered his head back to his paws, still observing closely.
When Granger returned with a tea tray the cat lifted his head again and the witch scratched his chin affectionately before taking a seat on the opposite end of the sofa.
"Good boy Crooks." Severus heard her whisper softly in the cat's direction.
'Crooks' looked satisfied with the proceedings and closed his eyes once more.
The silence stretched on as she poured out two cups of steaming tea and slid one across the table in his direction. Severus added a small dash of milk to his cup and left it to cool on the table. He didn't really want tea, he'd just accepted it for a distraction.
The witch adjusted herself in her corner of the small sofa, half turning to face him.
"Why did you tell Lupin?" He heard himself ask.
"I didn't," she replied quickly. "He's come to certain conclusions on his own."
Severus hummed his response. He didn't doubt her honesty, Lupin had always been a nosy sod.
"But," she added. "Both Ron and Ginny know."
"I overheard you and Mr Weasley on Halloween," he said, shifting slightly in his seat at the memory. "How, may I ask, did Miss Weasley come to know?"
"You heard that?" she asked, her eyes searching his face. He nodded his confirmation. "I told Ginny."
The idea of giggling witches discussing his personal life caused his anger to flare back into the front of his mind. Clenching his jaw tightly, he tried to compose himself before attempting to speak again.
"Why?" he asked in a clipped tone.
Hermione picked up her tea and took a sip, placing the cup back down with a clink. She tilted her head to one side seemingly in appraisal of his reaction.
"Because she's my friend," she began. "Because I trust her and I needed someone to talk to."
He mumbled under his breath about gossiping witches and disrespect while reaching out for his cup.
"It wasn't 'frivolous gossip'," she hissed back. "That's normal behaviour between friends, Severus."
"I am not comfortable being scrutinised by past pupils in such personal matters." Embarrassment flooded him, causing an unfamiliar and uncomfortable heat to spread under his skin. He looked away from her.
"I didn't divulge any details," she muttered.
Severus cringed at the thought, but some probing part of his mind wanted to hear her opinion on what had happened between them. Of course it would do no good to hear it, but that curious part of him was overwhelming.
Shame filled him every time he caught sight of the sofa in his quarters and felt his heart pounding at the memories now woven into the fabric. Did she feel any regret over their union he wondered again.
"This is pointless," he said suddenly, still not looking at her.
"What is?" she asked.
"This conversation," he sighed. "I apologise for my tone earlier, it was unnecessary, but the sentiment is the same. My actions on Halloween were inexcusable."
Hermione laughed causing Severus to face her. He frowned heavily as she continued to openly laugh at him.
"I am not fond of being laughed at Miss Granger," he snapped angrily.
"Enough!" she shouted. "Stop calling me that, I am not your student. I haven't been for some time now."
Hermione's anger prickled at his constant need to dismiss her as nothing more than a child. She thought that he had been doing it to provoke her but now she knew, he was afraid to see her as a woman. The knowledge didn't make it any easier to hear.
"Granger then," he said in compromise.
"Why must you insist on being so difficult? You are aware of my feelings, I've done nothing to disguise them from you."
Snape scoffed and shook his head. He picked up his tea, likely just for a distraction. She had the sense that he felt incredibly uncomfortable, whether from the topic or just being alone with her she couldn't tell.
"You doubt my motives?" she asked tentatively.
"Don't you?" he hissed back. "Mr Weasley certainly seemed skeptical."
"Ron is an idiot," she replied immediately. "And he wasn't your biggest fan to begin with."
"What, and you were?" He laughed humorlessly. "I treated you appallingly as a student."
"Well, you were going through an extraordinarily difficult period,-"
"Do not attempt to excuse my abhorrent behaviour towards you," his voice was sharp, volume rising. "I was under no outside instruction to treat you so poorly."
"Then why did you?" she asked, curiosity peaking.
He looked at her face and Hermione felt her pulse quicken under his gaze and cursed her body's natural reaction to his presence.
She had spent the last four days aspiring to get him alone again, in better circumstances.
Right now she should be livid with him, and she was, but her body had other ideas.
"Honestly? At first," he stalled, straightening his posture slightly. "I don't know, you were just another student, albeit a particularly irksome one."
"So, you don't know why?" she asked, a little disappointed.
"At first. Then, you associated yourself with Potter of course, and well," he cut off his sentence and stared straight ahead.
"Ok, well, I'm not a child any longer and you," she said, leaning forward slightly, "are not my professor. We are both consenting adults."
He scoffed again, still not looking at her.
"I think you'll find that on Halloween, it was I who initiated things."
Hermione blushed and cursed her body again for reacting to the memories which seemed to have nestled in the front of her mind on a constant loop.
Did his mind settle into the comfort of their combined bodies at the most inappropriate times she wondered.
"In fact, I've been the one to initiate everything."
"That doesn't make it any less repugnant."
Hermione recoiled at his tone. She felt the telltale sting of tears welling and looked away, back to Crookshanks who was sitting up now, looking back at her. She smiled weakly at her loyal companion and let a few stray tears leak from her eyes before batting them away.
The half-Kneazle stretched on his seat and then thumped softly down to the floor. For a moment he looked to her before swishing his tale, he made a beeline for the opposite end of the couch. Hermione watched as Crookshanks took stock of Professor Snape before pouncing onto his lap.
"Crooks," she hissed, leaping to her feet.
Quickly she grasped Crookshanks around his soft middle and pulled him from Snape's legs. Hermione could see a dense layer of ginger fur had already formed on his impeccable black attire.
"I'm sorry," she gasped, patting at his robes trying to dislodge some fur. Almost immediately he reached out and wrapped his hand around her wrist, stopping her attempt. Looking into his face, she saw no anger there, and some part of her longed to lean into his dark stare and get lost.
Realising that her want would likely be unwelcome, she straightened up and stepped back.
His expression left no room for doubt, there seemed to be no hidden desire lost behind cold black eyes. He simply did not welcome her touch and Hermione wilted under his steely gaze.
Gathering her thoughts for a moment she settled into the thick tension between them. Boldly she sat back down, closer this time.
"Can't you look?" she asked, her voice was breathless. "If you doubt me, can't you just look?"
"What use would it do?" he asked, still not looking at her. "Pointless," he muttered.
Hermione collapsed against the back of the couch, crossing one leg over the other and allowing her foot to dangle dangerously close to Snape's leg.
Finally he turned his head in her direction and floored her with his molten stare again.
He didn't look taken aback by her proximity, a small win for her she noted.
"Aren't you curious?" she asked quietly.
He studied her face for a moment. Then from her peripheral vision she could see him palming his wand. She quivered with anticipation, she had never experienced Legilimency before.
The academic in her wanted to needle him with questions, she wanted to absorb his wisdom and smother herself in it.
Slowly his wand lifted until it was pressed gently against her right temple.
"Legilimens," he whispered.
Hermione could feel her vision tunnelling and restricting, only his dark irises seemed to matter. It seemed impossible to drag her gaze from his and then she could feel him, his presence inside her busy mind.
It didn't feel probing or uncomfortable like she might have imagined, but more like a gentle caress, a slight itch that was just out of reach.
Her mind seemed to answer him with eagerness, flashing up images of their time together. Each memory seemed to pulse in colourful sequences and then, his presence quickly departed. Hermione blinked in quick succession as her breath hitched slightly in response to his swift retreat.
"Well?" she asked, tired of the suspense and mounting tension.
"Hermione," he replied in a softer tone than she was accustomed to. She flushed at the use of her given name. "This cannot continue, I'm not what you need or want."
With that, the dark man rose from his seat and walked silently to the door.
"And you," he said sadly, "are more than I deserve."
Hermione watched as he quietly turned and walked out, leaving her, still reeling from the lingering touch of his presence in her mind.
