AN: Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!
Judith Turner was perfect. Models spent hours trying appear as sophisticated as she did. Wealthy people took classes on how to embody her poise. People paid Hermione's parents good money to have a smile half as good as Judith's. Everything about her screamed high class pureblood, the kind of woman any wizard would dream of having in his arms. If she showed any interest in a man, he would accept her advances without question. He would consider himself the luckiest man in the world, and would never consider glancing in another woman's direction. She and he would walk into the sunset, holding each other's hands, oblivious to the cripple looking on.
Hermione's body shook as another tear fell. Yes, Judith and Severus would walk together, with two legs, without any assistive device. When the rain fell, Severus and her would make love, never once worrying about whether or not intimacy was feasible. Healers would only be seen for routine checkups, if at all. There would be no limitations on what a woman like Judith Turner could do. All of his needs would be met by a woman like Judith.
Hermione buried her head into her pillow and screamed.
"Why can't you give me what I want?"
Hermione bit back a whine. Her body was a black hole of pain, making it difficult to roll over and keep her focus on him. Still, he insisted on standing in the doorway.
Seeing Ron had grown more difficult over the years. No matter how many times she asked him to back up so her neck would not hurt, he stood over her, reminding her of how much she'd shrunk both in stature and in his esteem. His once comforting blue eyes had hardened over the years. With each failed treatment, each negative test, they had lost more of the love he'd shown towards her until he stood in the doorway, away from her, his expression one of exasperation and disgust.
"I'm sorry," she clung to the sheets, trying to ignore the increased shaking in her leg. "I'd love to give you everything you want, but I can't right now. It hurts too much to do anything."
"Can't you at least cook an egg?"
"Not with the stove as high as it is. My wheelchair can't reach it."
"Then get out of the wheelchair."
"I can't do that, not when I feel like this."
"You can't stand long enough to make a fucking egg?" He shouted.
"No," she pointed to her leg. "In case you haven't noticed, I can't stand at all right now. I need my wheelchair to get around. That precludes me from cooking."
"Unbelievable. Fucking unbelievable," Ron stormed out of the bedroom.
"Ron?" She called.
He stomped away.
"Ron"
Across the house, the front door slammed.
Hermione glanced at her leg, the reality of being alone sinking in.
She screamed again as more tears fell. She was losing Severus. There was nothing she could do about it other than watch him dine with another woman, one much more desireable than she was.
"Hermione is incapable of sex."
Hermione slid from her bed into the wheelchair. Earlier that morning, she couldn't move. Harry had come to check on her, but Ron had ushered him out because they needed to speak in private. Whether or not Ron realized Hermione could hear him, she didn't know. Perhaps it didn't matter.
"She has no sex drive anymore," Ron continued. "It's been four months since we've had sex. Four fucking months!"
"She is probably just recovering from her treatments. With time she will improve. Just be patient with the process."
"I'm running out of time and patience." Ron paused, most likely for another sip of his beer. "I want the old Hermione back, the one who didn't have a shaking leg, the one who enjoyed sex whenever I wanted it. Even if she's cured, I don't think she's capable of shagging me anymore."
"You have to be patient. One day she will recover…"
"I can't take much more." Another cause for a gulp of beer. "I'm trying to be faithful, I really am, but if she's incapable of sex there's no point in staying. If I can't have someone who can act like a fiancee, it's time to get someone who can. I want a partner, not an invalid."
She slumped into her wheelchair, feeling every bit like the invalid he'd come to believe she was.
Hermione exhaled. She wasn't incapable of feeling attraction. Oh God did she have a sex drive. Up to this point, she'd suppressed it. That didn't mean she didn't feel stirrings of it. When Severus gave her a small smile, when he purred at her with his low voice, when he used his wit to tell a story, yearning welled within her. On some nights, she dreamed of him appearing in her bed, using that low voice of his to relax her in preparation for his seduction. He would purr words he'd never say to another woman, words which would make her feel needed and wanted. Just as he was stripping her, she say those three words she had only said to a few people, words she knew were dangerous, yet conveyed the depth of her emotions. In a voice only Severus could hear, she would whisper, "I love you."
She gasped as the truth came crashing down.
She loved him.
Hermione loved Severus.
Hermione was madly in love with Severus.
Not only that, but she wanted to make love to Severus. She wanted a full adult relationship with him, one in which she was accepted completely, spasming leg and all. If she had her way, he would look at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world. it wouldn't matter to him that her leg was shaking, or that she had days when she was in pain. He'd love her through it all. Merlin, if he wanted children with her, she'd give him them, despite any complications which would arise. She would start a family with him tomorrow if that is what he desired.
Her heart ached at the thought of children. It was best to discard that dream. No man would want to have children with her. If Severus understood the potential complications their child may have, he would be revolted by the thought of her carrying his baby.
In order to want children, Severus would need to find her attractive, and accept her disability. Years from now, he would need to see her leg as a part of her, a part he loved. If he ever looked upon it with disgust, it would hurt her more than any curse Bellatrix could send her way.
It didn't stop her from hoping that someday Severus would find her attractive, that someday he would want the family which haunted her dreams, that someday in the distant future, he would look back on his life and be happy he'd spent it with her. Despite her ardent desire to expel the images of their family gathered around them, they remained etched in her heart.
There was hope though. Severus was unlike other men. Could he be unique from them in this regard? Could he see her as a disabled, adult woman who was capable of a romantic relationship with him and all that it entailed?
Did she ever want to find out?
Severus strolled through the hallways of Hogwarts, a brown bag in his hand. He'd been to Order meetings less tedious than the afternoon he'd been forced to endure. Severus had spoken to Judith just enough to where she didn't feel ignored. Still, his mind wandered to Hermione and what had upset her. Had Judith said something offensive? If that was the case, he would end things with her immediately. Was Hermione afraid he would reject her because Judith was the best option to keep him out of these dates? If that was the case he needed to assure her that she was the only woman who mattered to him.
Had he done something to upset Hermione? If so, how did he make things right?
He took a deep breath and stood before Hermione's doorway, his arms at his side
What if her leg was in pain and she needed time to recuperate? For all he knew she was asleep, trying to regain her strength. Was it wise for him to barge in and demand that she assuage his insecurities?
Why did he care more about her than he had ever cared about anyone else?
Severus sat in the corner of the staff room. From the unfortunate day he'd been rehired at Hogwarts, he sat in the same dark place during every Hogwarts staff meeting. Nobody made small talk with him because they knew he would only give monosyllabic grunts. Even Neville, whose presence had become tolerable over the last few years, knew not to sit near nor speak to him during a meeting, lest he become a target of Severus' infamous sharp tongue.
"Is this seat taken?"
Before he could think better of it, he huffed and gestured for the person beside him to sit.
"Good. All the other seats were inaccessible."
He bit back a groan. How could he be paying so little attention that he allowed Hermione Granger, the new Muggle Studies professor, to sit beside him?
"Thank you for letting me sit here. It's nice to finally take a rest. I forgot how long the walk between rooms was," she continued, as if he'd care about her thoughts.
He glared at her. There was a reason he hadn't come to her welcome party, and it wasn't because he'd had food poisoning. The last thing he needed was for an insufferable Gryffindor to start conversing with him and boring him with her half-baked theories about house elf rights.
"It's nice to see you again," she began with an uncertain smile.
"I cannot say the same," he grumbled.
She frowned. "You're as friendly as I remember."
"I'm sure you remember me oh so fondly."
"Actually, I do."
He snarled.
"I liked the speeches you made, and I appreciate how you helped us win the war," she began. "Looking back, you could be funny and witty. I liked that about you."
"You would be one of the few people who can say anything kind about me."
"Others remember you fondly."
"If they do, they've neglected to send me a Christmas card."
"Christmas cards are overrated."
He huffed.
"Anyway, it's great to be your coworker. I hope we can get to know each other better," she continued.
He wanted nothing more than for her to be quiet. His wishes continued to go unfulfilled though.
"I'm still getting used to everything, but maybe we can catch up sometime," she continued.
"Granger, make yourself useful and get me a quill from the other end of the table," He pointed across the table to the quills.
"You want me to get something for you?" Her eyes were wide.
"Did I stutter?" He snapped. "If you want me to tolerate you on any level, you'll stop babbling and get me a quill from across the table."
"Yes," her face lit up as she shifted in her seat. "Yes, I will get you a quill."
He almost barked at her for being so pleasant, until he saw her grasp her walker. Then, she used it to make her way over to the quills, a smile on her face.
Severus stared at her, wondering how being ordered around could bring someone such joy. He knew she wanted people to like her, but was she so desperate for acceptance that she was fine being ordered around?
It took a few days until he understood the reason for her joy. The other faculty members treated her as if she was made of porcelain. People got things for her, even when she was capable of reaching them herself. Few people asked her what she wanted before giving things to her. When she opened her mouth, people completed her sentences without her input. Gone was the capable independent Hermione. Instead, she had become a child everyone must protect.
The more Severus observed her, the more he realized she was more than capable of exerting her independence, at least when given a chance to do so. Everyone had forgotten how headstrong Hermione could be, everyone except him. Somehow, he needed to remind them that Hermione Granger was still the strong woman she'd always been.
Soon, he began asking Hermione get things for him, or perform small tasks which he knew would not be overly troublesome. Though he was scolded for his efforts by the rest of the staff, she took pleasure in someone treating her like a fully functioning adult, a fact she made clear on numerous occasions.
The unfortunate side effect of all this was she began to believe he liked her. This encouraged her to speak to him. Soon enough, she wore him down until he answered with more than just mutterings and simple answers. After a few months, the conversations became more pleasant, until he came to enjoy her presence.
Severus pulled out his wand. If she was asleep, he would not awaken her by entering. Yet, if she was awake she needed to know he cared. It wasn't clear what had happened this afternoon, but he knew Hermione well enough to know she had not left solely due to physical pain. Even if she wouldn't share what had occurred, he was going to let her know she mattered to him. When she was ready to speak, he was there to listen.
After casting a few spells, the wards lowered. Then he rushed into her quarters and headed towards her room, ready to comfort her in any way he could.