Opening the Door

26/12/1999

Late on Boxing Day morning Severus was in his lab in the cellar and saw to the potions that needed brewing, his advanced beautiful painkiller most of all. He agreed with Hermione's notion of its looks - it was the soft silvery and ever moving glitter in it that added to the otherworldly appearance of the otherwise clear ice-blue-colored potion. Right now, the mixture had to ripe undisturbed for exactly four hours so he finished the salve for her scars. He hadn't really seen them all back then in the manor, but knew at least that most of the ones on her front resulted from both cutting and whipping curses. He hoped that this was true for the ones on her back too and that the difference in pain quality Hermione had referred to last night was really only explicable by the intense contact with filth. This would ease the search for an adequate treatment to ease her suffering. However, he would need differentiated information on the sensation of it.

She should have finished her morning routine by now, he mused, set a reminder to the hourglass and made his way up the stairs into the kitchen to get some breakfast done. Feeling the chill immediately on entering the living room with two nearly steaming bowls of cinnamon-spiced porridge, he turned to see Hermione on the snowy terrace, door wide open. After having placed the bowls on the coffee tables next to each armchair, he headed outside suddenly overwhelmed by uneasiness at the sight of her motionless form. Calm down, he reminded himself, no need to add another sight to the worry-list. He came to stand behind her.

"Planning another lie-in?"

With her arms folded, Hermione winced slightly at his voice, but kept facing the opposite direction while one hand quickly wiped away the tearstains. "Bow out on a high, they say," she stated plainly.

At that something snapped in Severus. He stepped forward and grabbing her shoulder, he turned her around and pulled her hard to his chest. "That's no laughing matter and your comment is totally misplaced," he reprimanded strictly. Hermione was startled at his unexpected physical reaction and even more so by the surprising contradictory feelings his violent hug accompanied by his harsh tone evoked. Instinctively returning his embrace, she pressed her cheek to his chest when swallowing a sob.

"I'm sorry. You're right, of course. I didn't mean to perturb you," she tried to soothe. Severus felt exposed at her words since they verbalized what he had only just defined for himself and showed that his reaction had betrayed him. He now saw his concern proven that he wouldn't be able to let go once having allowed himself to open up to her.

"Seeing that my perturbation is a result of your attitude, it seems recommendable to see to that - for your sake," he snapped tartly.

Hermione bit back her comment on how unwise it was to empower the actions of others to determine one's emotions since her role-model qualities regarding this were obviously highly questionable. Moreover, his embrace was heartfelt and betrayed his words, proving an emotional turmoil in him that she somehow hadn't expected to see the dawn. He kept amazing her.

"Inside. Now," he suddenly commanded into her hair and immediately shoved her through the door. He flicked one armchair closer to the fire and gestured her to sit down there all the while handing her one of the bowls.

"Bon appétit."

"Bon appétit," she answered before they both ate in silence. Hermione recognized relieved that despite the current awkwardness between them, the overall atmosphere was still one of hospitality instead of rejection. And she knew that feeling in a house. Thus, after having forbidden the spark of angst of having it taken away too soon, to become a flame, she was able to indulge in the moment; in being here, in his reassuring company. Her thoughts trailed off. She secretly watched Severus sitting in the second armchair like before in his quarters back at Hogwarts. He made a determined impression, what for, she had no idea. Again Hermione enjoyed the comparably casual sight of him, his slender figure in his signature black dress pants and white button-down shirt, albeit with rolled-up sleeves. He looked good, not in terms of beauty, but healthy and strong. Life in the light seemed to do him good, she mused and next to the tinge of jealousy was a heartfelt joy for him, who deserved this most of all. There was a sudden impulse in Hermione to feel him close again. His physical proximity was somewhat addictive as it bore an honesty she would never have him credited for and least of all towards her. Of course she knew that she was starved for contact, but she'd always been picky regarding it and had never been someone for hugging everyone she called by their given name, even less initiating it. No, she used to like him before and an impulse to offer him reassuring contact wasn't news to her. Once she nearly had impulsively hugged him goodbye after having had a nice chat over tea after a brewing session. His lab, store- and classroom would be shiny till today for all the months of detentions this impulse would have gotten her into, Hermione mused and absently smiled at that.

When Severus cleared his throat, she gathered herself and focused on the here and now. He had enjoyed having witnessed her genuine absent smile, but rather than picking up on it, he reminded himself of the fact of her changing from suicidal to mental relaxation within mere minutes and focused on business at hand and that was talking.

"Let's talk," he said. Hermione bit her lower lip and nodded. Her hands wanted to fidget so she put her tea cup onto the coffee table.

Talk. Yes. Merlin, this must be the feeling of being unprepared in the face of an oral she ever had wanted to have and right now she exactly knew why. It was intimidating to face something one wasn't up to. Her fidgeting grew worse.

"I- I don't know how," she admitted. "I mean, where to start, what to tell."

"How about anything that helps me understand last night's events? Ideally everything to draw a full picture of your circumstances," he explained gently.

Hermione stared away from him and nodded faintly.

"Hmm-. I thought everything that had happened through so often, I tried to look at it from different perspectives so often that I at some point got the feeling that I might just be overreacting-, or being too sensitive. So- well, I'm not sure whether it is justified to bring that all up or if it is just whining, because I'm pitying myself. I fail to see the distinction, you know?! My perspective is a bit narrow and thus my judgment on this is tainted. And least of all I want to complain to you of all people, since it's due to you that I survived the unsurviveable and to accidentally hint that I had rather chosen death over life-," her voice left her. She folded her arms and looked at the floor between them.

"Let me make this perfectly clear: you say, what you need to say and certainly don't have to worry about any effect it might have on me. This is about looking at you in your entirety and not about evaluating your judgmental qualities and sensitivity. I think you should and need to share what tears you apart. Alright?" he asked.

All of a sudden Hermione was overpowered by the urge for his physical closeness and since she knew curling up in his lap without being in a state of utter despair was highly inappropriate, she moved to sit on the floor with her back to his armchair all the while leaning sideways against his right leg. Please don't pull away, she silently begged.

This flabbergasted Severus and although he felt slightly disturbed by this arrangement, he leaned his leg against her, enjoying this act of trust after what had just happened outside and whatever it was that made her do this.

"Shall we move to the sofa?" he asked quietly and feeling slightly relieved when she shook her head.

"You know-, I had a promising future prospect once. But then my world started to shatter. Not in the war, not at the Manor, but when I left hospital afterwards. The know-it-all learned the hard way that she in fact wasn't one. I got thrown into the real world and was supposed to act all adult and simply failed." She sighed. "Merlin, it is self pity. I was so young-"

"You're twenty now. That's as young as adults come," he snorted slightly bemused.

"Granted! Apart from looks, I'm still not quite beyond my prime." she said, the amusement audible in her voice. "But I feel kind of old, too experienced with things no one should ever consider themselves experienced in, but in everyday life? I was completely lost. I mean it's ridiculous, but ever since the war has ended, I feel like a 16-year old mimicking an adult, always hoping to get it right. Whatever it may be and whatever right might mean. I was totally okay at school, but then there was living on the run in a tent for a year with Harry, Ron and a Horcrux, which drove us slowly insane. Ron more so since he had a family to care for. Harry and I were better off in this regard, which was the wrong way round-. Then there was the kidnapping in the woods. And of course Bellatrix wanted to know how we got the sword of Gryffindor. And who would waste a pureblood, if there was a mudblood to torture? What a party starring the mudblood princess of Gryffindor. And didn't Voldemort know how to throw a party?" she huffed. "I calculated a rather precise 213 hours. When conscious I repetitively recalled the names of everyone I loved to anchor me in life. He wanted Harry, thought we were a couple. And so I screamed for him-, for my alleged lover, which was as freeing as was hoping Harry would actually never come. Well, it did the trick and retrospectively seen Voldemort was a bit oatfishly on an interpersonal level, although being totally focused on his victory, he never credited the other side the same dedication" she grinned strangely, "the same went for Lucius Malfoy, who also believed me to be a safe bet for a Harry Potter free-house delivery."

She winced shortly at whatever horror she visualized in that moment and rested her cheek at his knee, closing her eyes and simply breathed. Severus went for grounding her by putting his hand onto her shoulder and stroking it smoothly with his thumb. Opening her eyes again, she sighed.

"Draco should have been awarded with an Oscar for his performance- you know the Muggle film award." He hummed in confirmation being astonished to hear her use his given name. "Without him, I wouldn't have made it that long. I- I hope he's healing. He must be suffering; this had unlikely left him unscathed, no matter what he said." In need of more contact, Hermione nuzzled closer to his knee. Her gaze then turned to something not to be found inside the room.

When Severus was sure that she would not add anything, he bent down to her head, were his hand still touched her hair.

"Hermione?" When she tilted her head slightly back to lock eyes with him, he continued, "What is it Draco did?"

"Don't you know?" she asked in disbelief. Severus shook his head slightly, suddenly frightened to scare her into silence. She looked past him into a distance beyond his experience. "I cannot make this clear without telling certain details, but I can't do that, not yet." She suddenly looked him intently in the eyes. "The details are crucial to see his actions as the heroic thing they were and not as the detestable ones as which they appear at first sight. You do understand that, I know. I heard you talking there."

He nodded, holding her gaze and trying not to let his imagination run wild on what the boy had done that was unspeakably horrible, saving and worth forgiving at the same time. This was sickening him for the sake of them both.

"Is Draco alright? And I don't mean alright like surviving."

Severus faintly shrugged. "Hard to say- he refuses contact. But regarding the information you just didn't give, I assume he's very likely not thriving," he admitted thoughtfully.

"You need to see to him then! He- he wouldn't have me. I tried at the beginning of the year, but he threw me out using an impressive range of insults. Well, that mudblood-traitor vocabulary is no longer en vogue and he surely had made an effort of educating himself further," she half-smiled again. At that, he arched his eyebrow to his signature scowl, as did she with an added touch of expectancy.

Mirroring me. Nice shot, Granger, he thought. "I will," he said out loud while trying to grasp that she had gone to see to Draco.

With a small nod, she lowered her head back onto his thigh and Severus now rested his hand on top of it, caressing slowly. Without knowing, they both indulged in the reassurance of their mutually offered proximity.

After a minute Severus found his low voice. "There is more to tell, I'm sure."

Hermione simply continued. "After I had left the hospital, I was haunted by nightmares, often flashbacks and panic attacks during the day and Crucio-related aftermath, which hardly allowed me to follow anything but a very simple, yet strictly-structured life. And I so desperately wanted my parents back, but that turned out to be disastrous. After I had revealed to them what I had done, there was no way for them to trust me anymore. To their mind I was able and willing to do to them whatever I wished, while making sure they'll never know about it. I had believed they would at least have some understanding in the face of a censured version of what I had been through-. You know, in terms of what probable fate I had tried to prevent them from. But we were beyond speaking terms and I was beyond forgiveness, they made that very clear. I knew already that I had it coming, but I—I was so alone," Hermione took a deep sobering breath, but her tears spilled over anyway, "I had done what I had believed necessary to save them after they had refused to hide willingly. Now they are safe and healthy-, they are a family without me, but with a new daughter, their jobs and home are restored and- and I know they don't really hate me, they just can't have me in their life anymore and that's it." She cried, but took the handkerchief Severus offered her. He swallowed his own discomfort.

"You're so brave," he conceded when she dried her tears.

"That bloody torture aftermath had made me want being mothered. And the rest of life had shown me that I had been in need of some general guidance. Because I had and still have somehow no idea about the plain things of an adult life: How to get an affordable flat, insurances and stuff. I mean Hogwarts doesn't really focus on that-. I had been lost in both worlds-. To sum it up: My coping strategies had run thin and so I moved in with the Weasley clan. At that point, I desperately longed for somewhere to belong and they had always been fond of me and had already given Harry a real home-."

She had to shake away the thought of him. He was actually the one, she missed most of all her friends and whose exclusion hurt most of all.

"It was a bit shocking there-, they were collectively so absorbed in their grief. And I was just there, preparing meals and tea and trying to maintain a simple structure to life for me and them. Ron and I had turned to each other during our Horcrux hunt and he thought we could just go on, but I couldn't get physical at all. In fact I couldn't stand any human touch at all. I still have problems with that."

She didn't see it, but Severus gaze showed surprise and awe at the realization of how much physical closeness they have had since yesterday and even had right now and how it obviously soothed her.

"I knew he wouldn't have understood since back then nobody but the healers had known about the gang rape part and no one had dared asking such a thing likely fearing the answer. I- I mean I had already been half naked under Dolohov when they fled and they stood and watched for a moment-, I still see them staring in horror through the unbreakable bubble," she trailed off, "and I still hear me ask Dolohov, if he didn't know how to proceed." She breathed hard, because what the man had done then together with the four bystanders had nearly cost her life. So much pain and blood in so little time and they had constantly woken her from unconsciousness to make sure she would not miss a thing. After that had been the only time during her captivity that she had been relieved for having survived. From then on there had only been desperation that death would not come.

"You saved their lives with your distraction," Severus whispered hoarsely and interrupted her thoughts.

Yes, she had. For all she had known they had been wandless when they had left the dungeon and thus had to flee by feet from a horde of Death Eaters. Had she known about Dobby she would have provoked the monsters a little less.

Her voice broke slightly. "They've never asked me what had happened after they had left-. I got Ron off my back by showing him my scared belly. He's very much the visual type when it comes to women," Severus rolled his eyes at that, idiot boy, "It worked wonders. Then the trials arrived and when all the glorious details had been brought onto the table, everything proceeded very fast. The Weasleys were shocked by the details of my captivity and on the second day, one after the other started to avoid looking at me. They were disgusted," she stopped shortly.

Severus hoarsely weighed-in, "They just didn't know how to deal with the horror."

Hermione shook her head. "They definitely were disgusted. I overheard some conversations when I sat on the stairs in the dark after a fight with Ron in the late hours of the same day and they just couldn't wrap their head around the range of the gang rape scenario."

"Fight?" Severus asked unbelievingly. If there ever was a moron whom he would expect to start a fight after such a day, it would be the youngest Weasley son, but astonishingly enough he had given even him more credit than this.

"Harry and Ron both felt betrayed by me for not having told them the whole story. Ron was downright reproachful right after we arrived at the Burrow and picked a quarrel about my trust issues with him although we had been something like a couple. The next day it became clear that I had unintentionally arranged for Fred's death and that I-, ahem, had interacted for some time," she breathed deeply, "Then there was no more coping for Molly and Ron. They suddenly freaked out during the trial. Ron called me a hooker and then Molly asked if Fred's life hadn't been worth some more whoring for I must have enjoyed it, otherwise I surely would have preferred dying. She called me a discreditable bitch, Ron called me a Death-Eater whore and then they all left and menaced me in front of everyone to never return to the Burrow. And Harry just stared blankly and then walked away with them. Well, and that was it. I was back in my tent and was scared that being named death-eater whore by my closest friends might not have been hitting rock bottom yet," Hermione sobbed and looked at Severus, who did not even try to hide his shock about what she had just said. He had only been in court for his testimony and missed the show.

"To be honest, I wanted to contact you, I was despaired enough, but when I asked Minerva for your whereabouts, I had to learn that she had adopted their attitude as well so I never managed to form my question in the first place, but was told that there are things one doesn't do, not even to survive and that my behavior was dishonorable," her voice trailed off, but she caught herself again, "They just don't see that even in Voldemort's hands dying was not easily managed. It wasn't for me to decide for death and I just wanted some- rape-only moments instead of being beaten or cursed to a pulp every time. It hurt so much, the broken bones and the open flesh, when they took me," she suddenly swallowed bile, "I just wanted less pain."

She felt his hand tighten around the hair in her neck and heard his voice quiet in her ear, "I know all that. I see your sacrifice. More so your behavior was deeply human and mustn't be judged from the outside. You saved Potter the Great and the others by sacrificing your body and soul and there is nothing undignified or dishonorable to it. Quite the contrary," Severus said insistently.

"Fred died because of me,"

"No, he didn't. They killed him. It's-, "

"I named-,"

"Look at me," he ordered gently and when she did, he continued, "You are not to blame for anything, Hermione. Hadn't it been for you, chances are not too bad, Voldemort would have succeeded. Although oblivious to the fact, he had had Potter disarmed in a dungeon already and you showed incredible presence of mind and selflessness even under torture. Honestly, it's unbelievable you didn't serve them everyone including Grimmauld Place on a silvery platter-,"

Tears streamed down her cheeks, while she searched his eyes for traces of a lie.

"They asked the wrong questions. Didn't know about the Order," she grinned slightly, "Severus, I have always wanted to thank you for your testimony in court, but no chance presented itself. Thank you, Severus," she said softly.

He simply nodded with his jaws clenched. He seriously felt like hunting those nitwits down. "Well, in the following weeks the wizarding world had been told by the Prophet how the supposed war heroine had betrayed her friends by becoming a Death-Eater whore and that she even got one killed and then ruthlessly parked herself in the home of her victims and that her ruthlessness had been proven in the way she had acted on her parents - heroine, whore, outcast - the awkward moment when you realize that having been called a whore had indeed not been hitting rock bottom," she snorted at her comment, "I obviously wasn't welcome in the bright new world. No education to survive in the Muggle world and only a realistic chance to finish it in this one. So, I gathered my bravery and returned for my last year to finish my studies and then take a leave – of course provided that I would survive my stay." She once again turned a bit to look at the frozen man behind her.

"But since a corpse in Gryffindor Tower is always trouble Minerva had granted me separate quarters to calm the concerned Prophet-believing parents, who hid at home during the war and didn't like the idea of a pervert known for collateral damage to live amongst their innocent children. Even you may have underestimated me so far, I'm morally even more intimidating than-," Hermione stopped herself just in time.

"-Ex-Death Eaters," he completed her sentence and she squeezed his shank lightly. He had serious problems to process that the most prominent defenders of the good side had collectively let down this brave woman, who had enforced unimaginable torture to ensure their Golden Boy and his brainless shit of a friend to flee and survive their kidnapping and had even made her life a misery after the war.

"However, I love my quarters to pieces and they are handy in terms of living through panic attacks and seizures and that's really a relief-. Talking about Minerva, I've wondered sometimes if you are all still meeting as the Order. I mean, does it still exist?" she asked, changing the topic out of the blue.

Severus cleared his throat. "They do. My duty was done and since I have no socializing ambitions, I gave them my regards," he plainly said, processing that she really had no contact with anything regarding her former life. Even he had. He hadn't paid attention, but should have pursued staying up to date with Minerva's alarming attitude towards her.

Hermione simply nodded at his input. She still needed to get the part regarding Severus out. Having the chance to tell all of it to a real person and not only aloud to herself, felt liberating to some extent, but she feared his reaction on this part somehow. He tended towards suddenly inconsistent behavior, after all. Her face came back to rest at his knee, she wouldn't be able to face him, when talking about him.

"Then there was y- Severus-," following a spontaneous intuition, she decided to go for third-person address. "The feared professor I have mentally called by his given name ever since we had brewed together. Sometimes he had let me see behind his mask and so I came to like him. He is also the one who saved my life. I remember him to have been at the party twice. Well, only his voice, but the familiarity in it instantly made me cry with relief, which I feel partly ashamed of, because one reason was vanity: I was relieved that someone good had at least witnessed what happened to me. The suffering felt less lonely then. I don't know if that is understandable. But there were less selfish reasons, too. I knew then that his cover hadn't been blown yet. That at least I hadn't betrayed it so far. I wasn't sure about anything anymore." Her voice trailed off.

"Merlin, my eyes wanted to search him so much and I forced them close so tightly that it hurt. That may seem like such a minor feeling, but I remember it because by then, I couldn't distinguish anymore where to my body the pain was inflicted, but this hurting I could feel right there in my eyes-. I wanted so badly to just glimpse at a reminder of a life that I increasingly had forgotten how to hold on to. Sometimes it had felt like a mere imagination. But then I sure as hell couldn't have stopped myself from pleading looks. And I knew that helping me was beyond his control and that it would also be predestined to spoil his role of the perfect Death-Eater persona," she was interrupted by Severus, who settled down beside her and hugged her to him, head resting on hers, his too controlled breathing betraying his turmoil, but he kept silent. Encouraged by this, Hermione simply continued, "he so convincingly incarnated. He implicitly promised to take me back home once I had died. And- and while I still think that it was my appearance, which even repelled death from taking me, Severus had indeed kept this promise. I still remember him talking to me gently -," Hermione breathed deeply, gathering strength, "But after that- he has never had a nice word for me again," she said in a quivering whisper.

He tensed up at her last sentence and her tone. The agony it carried made him literally sick. He had realized last night that he had his part in her downfall and his words during yesterday's breakfast had very surely pushed her over the edge. Ever since she had returned to school, he should have looked out for her more, or at all, but he had been busy triggering her and controlling his own sentimental tolerance towards her since their shared lab time.

Merlin, she was right. She had been just a girl then and when he had seen her again for the first time, about a year after the trial, her decay had been obvious. Nevertheless, instead of going for pampering he had decided for challenging her, and in an aggressive way. Prototypical misjudgment. Intuitively, he turned a bit, encircled her from behind with both arms now and pulled her closer to his chest. She leaned fully against him, hands in her lap, head beneath his collarbone, breathing deeply.

"In court, he had assigned me to invisibility and then I knew his former tolerance of me had vanished, though I wasn't able to grasp why. But he had, all the while, convincingly pled in favor of me, which was confusing, but made me imagine him to be at least somehow on my side-. And then, on my return to school, my invisibility had vanished again. I- I found myself on the receiving end of his nasty sarcasm, mocking and- rejection. Before the term, I had hoped to become visible to him again and maybe even have some basic civil conversations. But then, when I was back in his classroom and unexpectedly a case of be careful what you wish for, he didn't even seem to sympathize enough to keep ignoring me." Hermione stifled a sob and Severus wanted to say something, but she cut him off and brought her left hand to rest on his right lower arm that encircled her chest, feeling his unexpectedly warm skin. "Please let me finish. I'll surrender to your go afterwards." She needed to get it out, needed him to hear her truth. And her bravery for this faded fast, knowing that Severus' withdrawal from her wouldn't be too far out of his possible range of reaction.

"It- well, it was unbearable to suffer more open contempt and even distaste from him, because- my troubled mind couldn't bring the man, who had tolerated and defended me before, in line with the man, who distasted of me so-, ahem, generously and openly-. I think, I was just grasping straws by imagining to have at least a silent confidant in him. Like one of those that you know are there, even when never related to-. To sum it up: Pain, rejection, despair, defeat and finally- snow-bathing, because continuing to breathe had meanwhile grown rather impolite."

At this Severus unintentionally inhaled sharply and Hermione used the interruption to clear her throat. She was used to monologues, but not this long and it strained her vocal cords. They'd never recovered fully after the party, but then nothing of her really had.

"However, last night things with Severus turned 180 degrees again and- and I just don't know why, and I'm so bloody scared of his change and even more so of if or when it's going to change back again. If it is, I- I- ahem, no- why Severus? Why are you different now?" she sniveled the question and then gave in to her sorrow, tears flowing freely now and as she started to tremble slightly, he couldn't restrain any longer and gave-in to intuition by shoving his left arm under her cocked knees and pulling her into his lap. Hermione slung her arms around his neck and rested her face at its base so he could feel her hot breath against his skin. Hermione sobbed at this gesture and he started to cradle her smoothly. There was a soothing in it, which was hard to explain, but appreciated beyond measure.

Gods, Severus knew he had motivated her to let it all out and he gathered that this was only the short version. There were much more details to it. He appreciated her idea of a third-person address; the distance this created eased things. He could only guess what she must feel like, besides vulnerable, to be in his arms while admitting that he had made her life unexpectedly even more miserable, while she trusted and, obviously, even liked him. He was suddenly frightened that she could, any second now, realize how weird it was to let said man comfort her and would let go. He knew he had to answer now, but he was taken aback, his job in distancing himself from the man she talked about hadn't been awfully successful.

"Just a minute please," he said hoarsely.

She lifted her head off his neck to look at him and he inwardly startled, "Please stay." A mere whisper.

Please, twice! That slightly shocked her. Hermione encircled her arms reassuringly around him and let her cheek down onto his chest, inhaling his scent of soil after rain. Severus tension subsided slightly and he put a hand to her face, brushing some curls away and holding her face close to him while absently caressing her temple. While Hermione realized how much she enjoyed this very intimate situation, the dark man started speaking.

"I'm very sure the man hopes he is not beyond forgiveness for what he did and for what he did not do. And if he were a stronger man, he'd even apologize, but maybe he just needs to do some more growing before. But he surely is sorry. He had only realized last night how he had misjudged her situation. He had overestimated her coping abilities. Her survival had been a wonder and only possible due to great strength, both physical and mental. He had been shattered by her state back then and devastated for being unable to help. The sight never left him and her hoarse begging to be killed-, there are nights with visions of her and his failure to help. A year later back at school he saw her state—I saw your state, your decay. I had to make a decision for the road to follow and- well, I've never been one for grey, so it was a decision for either black or white. And I went for triggering your fighting spirit full force rather than pampering you, which was easier for me since- since it meant not having to face my guilt, but to distance me from it- and you. I wanted you to live not just survive, but I saw you'd have to fight for it-. I intended to be- helpful." Severus recognized that he had let himself go somehow, guilt overriding his defenses in this emotionally overcharged situation.

It took a couple of seconds, but then he felt her tense up and eased his embrace a little and Hermione pushed herself away and came to stare at him in disbelief. "Wait! You-! You just prove for hours that you are more than capable of reading and reacting empathically to extreme emotional upheaval. And despite being aware of my decay, you went for triggering my inner Gryffindor lioness? And not just a bit, no, you went the whole hog! Despite being able to do very differently and having recognized that I was dashed to the ground, you decided to keep kicking me and added to my life being a living hell on purpose?" she nearly yelled the last part of her sentence. "How?" she asked unbelievingly. Then she struggled herself free, got up and headed for the door, picking up her coat.

Severus followed her and also came to stand in the hall.

"Where do you think, you-," was as far as he got before being interrupted by a furious Hermione.

"No bloody way, Severus! Stop that patronizing tone this instant. You know that I'm thankful for what you're doing since last night, but after what you just told me- I- I mean- How? I mean on purpose and despite seeing! How?" She took a deep breath to calm down the urge of punching him, her inner lioness had been woken. "Okay," she closed her eyes, "I really need some fresh air now and I'm going out for that. And don't believe for one second that right now you are in any position to dictate anything to me," she clarified determinedly and without yelling before she turned around, coat in hand.

"Don't do anything-" he tried, suddenly frightened, but was interrupted by Hermione, who turned back to him once more, left hand on the door knob. Disbelieving outrage written all over her face.

"Really now? Since you finally managed to trigger the lioness and her immanent killer instinct, better pray she won't shift her focus to the one, who poked her. Good Lord!" Not waiting for another reaction, she went through the door, slamming it shut. This was the second time in only one day.

.o.O.o.

Hermione was surprised to find the front door opening for her automatically. On her way back, she had remembered that she depended on Severus to let her in. Chances were that he either wouldn't since she had pissed him off or that he would since he didn't want her freezing to death. She simply couldn't tell anything for sure anymore. Now she knew the motive for his harsh behavior. Interestingly she was indeed able to follow his line of thought and although it was so genuinely him, it was certainly also worth being considered a very new level of Snapeishness. However, she was sure about his sincerity regarding his deep concern about her, especially since he had completely given up his highly-valued privacy in favor of implicit and patient closeness and that he took responsibility for her as a matter of course instead of delegating it. Not even his usual indifference had returned once, rendering his whole demeanor authentic. However, since she meanwhile also knew his temper, she had prepared for the possibly negative reaction her eruption might have caused: Thanking him for his support and hospitality before wishing him nice holidays and further preparing herself for the next encounter in class to a hopefully only indifferent Potions master.

Since it was his house, she went to search him to let him know she was back, but he was neither upstairs nor on the ground floor, so she expected him to be in the lab in the cellar. She wouldn't intrude there, but wait for him to return.

Hermione stayed in the kitchen and pulled out the sandpaper and oil she had spontaneously bought in an old local craftsman shop some streets in northern direction. She had been looked at somewhat suspiciously, surely because all other clients had been in their seventies and had been born within spitting distance. But she had greeted them all and complimented the familiarity of such small shops and how they add character to a neighborhood. They had even held the door open for her on her way out.

She pulled the dining table into the middle of the room. Yes, she had a soft spot for the old table. It felt like home and strangely reminded her of Severus. Examining the direction of the wood grain intently with eyes and hands, Hermione started to gently sandpaper the surface by soothingly regular strokes with one hand, while feeling the smoothness of the swarf with the other. This was satisfying to some degree. Suddenly she felt a gaze on her and realized that Severus had come upstairs, sneaky spy mode obviously activated. She locked eyes with him.

"Since last night I'm totally intrigued by your table. I couldn't find you, so I went for overstepping boundaries and getting started. I'll hex it back instantly if you disapprove," she stated.

"You're intrigued by my table." He stepped closer, holding her intent gaze.

"I am. It looks like it has had quite a life so far, having served its duty without having been taken care of, but it has nevertheless proven its solidity. Granted, there are blemishes visible on the surface and some of them might go deeper than others, but here, in the right light, it's easy to see that underneath it is still more than decent. And will be steadily so when being seen to adequately. It's important to do it with finesse and take your time for it. And while doing so, to feel every so often if the pressure is balanced and make sure to adapt to the requirements of the different stains."

She hoped he would somehow catch her meaning and offered him some sandpaper. "Four eyes see more and four hands feel more. It's easier to work on something like this together-. To optimize the result by syntonizing strategies based on shared experience on the changes." Her right hand slid through the swarf, feeling its softness.

"Of the table," he added slowly, eyes never leaving her face, while he took the sandpaper. Hermione turned her face back to Severus and her eyes again locked with his.

"Of the table," she verified "obviously."

There it was, her tone. Right now he wasn't sure if he had ever known a student more Slytherin than this Gryffindor. This was very likely the most twisted metaphorical talk anyone had ever offered him, let alone to explain in a sub-subtext that he was seen, accepted and offered supportive friendship to, well, to reveal the real him. Irritatingly this also implied being forgiven, by the woman, who just stormed out of his house for understandable reasons.

Severus simply started to sandpaper.

"With the grain, long and regular strokes," she advised with a reassuring smile. How could she be able to react to his addled personality so well? He wasn't even tempted to decline her offer, he realized with surprise.

"Abe must have been awed to have you in his shop," Severus said "Did he try to keep you?"

Hermione laughed at that. "I understood he was an institution around here, but I honestly didn't expect your acquaintance to be mutual-. No, he kept questioning me and insisted to have his son carry my errands home. I beat him down to simply opening the door for me," Hermione said amused.

"What else did you bring?" Severus wondered.

"Nothing heavy, no, just some bubblegum the Snape-boy used to adore-, his words, not mine," Hermione chuckled and at his dumbfounded face she had to laugh again. Turning around to the plastic bag, she snatched the bubblegum and put it on the table. "I'd be careful though, it appears to be past its prime- for at least 25 years or so. Maybe you were the only kid adoring it and these are the leftovers from your cute old times," she teased all the while hoping he would be up for it.

Severus chuckled at that. "Abe remembers me. I can't believe it."

"Oh, better do! I'm convinced he is some kind of novel crossbreed: half Pensieve and half crystal ball, wrapped in human form. He did an impressive Holmesian job of deducing where I was staying by recalling general knowledge of dialects as well as restoration habits, hobbies, talents, kinships and their respective education, or lack of for that matter, of about a hundred neighbors or so. Then he subsumed my host is either you, the chemistry professor from a posh German university, or a seventy-something woman with an indefinable bunch of parrots, who doesn't speak to anyone. Since I didn't appear to be the birdie-type and don't have feathers anywhere, Abe - as I'm privileged to call him now - clarified that I'm supposed to give you his regards and the bubblegum."

In his relief about her return and forgiveness Severus couldn't help but burst into a heartfelt laughter about her story. Hermione startled a bit at the strange sound, but joined in and enjoyed the sensation of witnessing him lighthearted immensely.