A/N: Thank you all for being so patient! It has been a very trying couple of months since last I checked in here. I took my written comprehensive exams a few weeks ago, but it will still be a number of weeks until I find out if I passed this time. Fingers crossed on that. I would also like to thank everyone who has been wishing my family well. My grandpa who survived the heart attack and surgeries last year found out he had terminal liver cancer this spring. He passed peacefully surrounded by all of us at the end of April. We all knew it was time and that he was ready, so it made it a little easier to say goodbye. He was a very inspirational person, though, and I do really regret not getting to know him sooner.
Well... here goes the long-awaited conversation.
Bound to Him
Chapter 70
"Won't you sit down, Severus?" Minerva asked, eyeing her younger colleague with concern. "Given the look on your face, I can only imagine that this will be a discussion of some duration, yes?"
He nodded once before stiffly taking one of the chairs facing her desk. When he had done so, she settled into her own seat to await his explanation. His hesitancy to begin his address – preceded by his uncharacteristic display of politeness in seeking her audience – was alarming her greatly.
"Severus?" she prodded, after another minute passed in tense silence.
He grimaced as he took in a deep breath. "After the New Year… when Potter returned to the castle, you asked me what had happened, and I refused to answer. I promised you, though, that I would tell you when I felt you needed to know."
"I remember."
His dark eyes flashed to hers. "I believe that time has come."
McGonagall raised an eyebrow, but remained silent so as not to discourage his report.
"As you know, Potter was supposed to be with the Weasleys for the holidays," Severus began slowly. "Unbeknownst to the rest of us, however, the Headmaster had been collecting him in order to… investigate the Dark Lord's history, which of course, included paying visit to his ancestral grounds. It seems that no one was meant to know of this beyond the two of them, but circumstances arose that necessitated my interference."
He paused and tightened his hands into a ball. "I was made aware of their return here when Hermione contacted me to say that Potter was frantically searching for me at the Headmaster's behest. Upon arriving in his office, I found him delirious and as near death as I have likely been on a few occasions."
A gasp escaped her, but she quickly recovered her control and quietly urged him to continue.
"You assuredly have noticed his hand," he stated, earning a nod. "That is the result of a curse he encountered after donning a ring he found on their little excursion. I do not know the exact curse he triggered, but I recognized enough of the Dark magic to know that it will be fatal. I have done everything I know to do in order to slow its effect, containing it to the hand for the time being, but it has slowly been spreading. The Angelaureus Elixir will lose its potency against the curse, and eventually it will reach his heart. I thought, perhaps, he might have a year, but after this incident, neither he nor I are so optimistic any longer."
Oh, Lord preserve us! Minerva closed her eyes and wiped her face. "I –"
"There is more," Snape interrupted, holding up a hand. "Please. I have… I need to tell you more."
More? She swallowed hesitantly, but nodded.
"Prior to that night – on Christmas Eve – I received information from Lucius Malfoy regarding the planned attacks that evening in Diagon Alley and one of the Bones' residences. He told me with the hopes that I would betray it to the Order to spare Draco's involvement in them, and so that I might grant him a favor. He asked me to assist Draco in an unknown task which had been assigned by the Dark Lord."
The witch frowned. "Then Draco Malfoy is –"
"Marked, yes," Severus replied. "However, he has no more wish to see the Dark Lord succeed than I do. He did not willingly join the ranks as you might assume, but instead was forced to do so as punishment for Lucius's inability to procure the prophecy last June. His indoctrination took place last July, though it was November before we discovered – well, Hermione discovered – he had been given a task. Draco inadvertently revealed as much as he mistakenly assumed that she had been conscripted by the Dark Lord to monitor him. The Headmaster had hoped that I could discover the nature of the boy's assignment, but it was not until last month that Hermione and I were successful in that endeavor. Draco has been employing Occlumency, having been trained in it by his mother, and it was only through Hermione's efforts that we could convince him to trust us with the information."
McGonagall gripped the armrest of her chair as she braced herself for what was to come.
Severus ducked his head. "The boy has been given until the end of the school year to assassinate the Headmaster, and should he fail, will be personally invited to watch his mother suffer a prolonged, painful death."
"Oh, gods," she gasped, raising a hand to her mouth. "The poisoning?"
The wizard nodded before rubbing his temple. "During the Hogsmeade visit, Draco was approached by his aunt, who gave him the poison after having procured it from Silas Jiggers. He brought it directly to me, and after discussing it with Albus, we decided it was best to make it appear that Draco was at least making some progress to appease the Dark Lord. I diluted it to a non-lethal level and, at his command, slipped it into his tea during the staff meeting. For once, Moody was technically correct in his accusations for I did poison Albus."
Minerva pinched her lips into a thin line as she recalled the morning in question. Though she understood the desire to protect a student, she could not believe that Dumbledore would so willingly risk his life in such a manner without warning anyone. It was far too reckless! There should have been an Order meeting to discuss it! What if he had died then?
"Last night, I was able to pin the entirety of the failure on Bellatrix due to her carelessness in procuring the poison and the fact that she forbade Draco from seeking my assistance. That being said, Draco is still expected to complete the task within the original timeframe." Snape leaned back in his chair, but kept his gaze fixed on the edge of her desk. "The Dark Lord has made it clear that he expects me to assist the boy in this, and even step in should need be."
The woman shifted suddenly and felt a gnawing fear settle into her stomach. No. Severus, no.
"I discussed this with the Headmaster," he explained quietly. "He agrees that I should continue providing aid to the boy, but he does not want Draco to succeed in murdering him. He does not wish to damage the boy's soul."
She barely had time to feel a modicum of relief before it was snatched away from her by his next pronouncement.
"Instead, he has requested that I be the one to kill him."
"No!" McGonagall hissed, slamming her hand down on the desk.
Snape did not betray a reaction to her outburst, but did not lift his eyes from the desk blotter as he steadily explained, "It would cement my position within the Inner Circle, and allow me to be appointed Headmaster when the Ministry falls."
"No!" She pushed out of her seat. "No, Severus! He cannot ask this of you!"
"Minerva –"
"No! He has no right!" The woman screeched, gesturing angrily with her pointer finger. "He has asked too much of you already – you owe him nothing more! The audacity of that man – Ugghh!"
She shook her head and shoved away from her desk. "I will kill him myself!"
Severus scrambled to his feet as she rounded the desk and made her way toward the door. "Minerva, stop! Sit down!"
"I sure as hell will not! I'm going to give that fucking fud a piece of my mind, and by the time I'm finished with him, he'll only wish that curse had claimed him outright!"
The wizard rushed after her, slamming the door shut when she attempted to open it. Locking the door, he pushed her back towards her desk.
"Severus, I –"
"Damn it, Minerva!" he shouted. "Sit down!"
The witch stared up at him in surprise for several seconds before remembering her outrage. Yanking her arm out of his grasp, she shook her head. "Why in God's green Earth would you tell me this if you only expect me to sit on my hands and do nothing about it?"
"Because you need to know!" he hissed in her face. "Because Albus fucking Dumbledore will be dead in the matter of months, whether or not I kill him, and you need to be ready to lead when he does! And right now, that means you don't do a damn thing to jeopardize that!"
McGonagall stumbled slightly after backing into the corner of her desk. Straightening her spine, she frowned at him. "I –"
"You may currently be Deputy Head of the Order, but Albus has not yet named a successor in the event of his demise," Severus explained in a significantly lower voice. "If you cross him now, you will be out, and that deranged fuckwit will be in!"
Her eyes pinched as she folded her arms. "Alastor Moody is the most powerful Auror in Ministry history. He would be more than competent in a leadership –
"Twenty-five years ago, perhaps!" he retorted. "The man cannot see far enough beyond his own prejudices and paranoid delusions to successfully lead himself to the loo without blasting seven holes in the plaster, yet you expect him to fare any better with the Order? Or have you forgotten that two years ago he allowed himself to be out-witted and overtaken by Pettigrew and Crouch, Jr. – two of the poorest excuses for Dark Wizards the world has ever encountered?"
"I might remind you that those two poor excuses were responsible for the return of You-Know-Who."
"Because the lot of us were all asleep at the broom!" He gestured stiffly with his hands, and leaned toward her. "Where was the constant vigilance, hmm?"
Minerva noticeably bristled, but could not offer an adequate response.
The spy let out a heavy puff of air, and turned away from her to return to his chair. "Besides, that's the exact move they'll be expecting."
Her eyes followed him as he weakly sank into the seat. Uncrossing her arms, she placed one hand on her desk. "What do you mean?"
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "After Albus, Alastor Moody is the strongest known wizard in the Order. He's put half of the Death Eaters in Azkaban. They know he's a threat, and will fully expect him to succeed the Headmaster."
"They believe that Alastor is Deputy, not myself?"
The man shrugged in confirmation before leaning forward and stabbing his finger into the desk surface. "He's what they expect. He's the…castle smashing his way across the board, drawing attention, but you –"
He lifted his hand to point at her. "You're the pawn sitting quietly in the seventh rank, keeping your head down until the time is right for you to be promoted to a queen. The current queen has foolishly backed himself into a trap. His moves are severely limited. If Potter has any hope of making it to the endgame, he needs you in place."
The woman shifted nervously and tilted her head. "And what keeps me from being seen?"
A hint of a smile toyed at the corners of his mouth as he murmured, "A dark knight strategically positioned, appearing to keep you in your place."
Minerva snorted softly as she reclaimed her chair. "I may never want to play chess again."
While he grunted in agreement, the witch let out a deep sigh and bent down to pull open her bottommost drawer. Extracting the bottle of Old Pulteney, she transfigured two crystal paperweights into tumblers and filled each with a generous serving of scotch.
"You realize it's barely eight'o'clock," Snape commented as she pushed a glass to him.
"You realize this conversation isn't exactly a first-thing-in-the-morning type of conversation. I judge the suitability of a particular beverage based more upon the accompanying discourse than on the time of day. This is not a tea or pumpkin juice sort of situation." She smirked sadly upon taking a small sip of her drink. "Besides, it does not appear that you've gone to bed yet."
"No," he confirmed, reaching for the tumbler. He considered saying something else, but opted instead to begin nursing his drink.
McGonagall studied him for a moment before shifting her gaze to the wall while she tried to come to terms with everything he had explained thus far. Albus was dying and did not see fit to tell anyone in the Order beyond the man who already suffered their collective mistrust. She could not even convince herself that he would tell them before it was too late, because he had already risked – and very nearly lost – his life without leaving even the vaguest of words with her. When Death did arrive for him, Dumbledore would leave them scrambling with no explicit direction – except to perhaps target one of their own for something he had been commanded to do. She was not naïve enough to believe that Dumbledore's request was anything resembling a request. He would give the illusion that he was offering a choice, but there really was only one answer which he would accept.
Pinching her lips together, the witch turned her head just enough to surreptitiously observe her friend. He was silently staring at the tumbler he held with both hands. Having come to know him rather well in the past year, she could spot the subtle signs of pain etched in his face. Again, she was reminded of the quiet boy who once sat in her classroom. It made her stomach twist to know that she never saw his suffering then for what it was.
She had thought him timid and uncomfortable in crowds, a bit thin-skinned with an explosive temper that often landed him in trouble. Never, though, had she asked herself why he might behave in such a manner – why an eleven-year-old would isolate himself and respond so violently to bullying instead of seeking help from a teacher. Several times she had been approached by a worried Lily Evans to find the Marauders in varying degrees of injury or disfigurement, but no sign of the young Slytherin. They had always been quick to blame Severus, but even when directly asked, Severus had never offered his version of events, which more often than not was taken for an admission of guilt. Even Horace seemed to side against his student, which likely had more to do with the fact that the Potters and Blacks were of much greater influence than the Snape family.
"Despite all of his prior posturing and bullying, that boy is still a child… a child who spends a significant portion of every day trying to figure out how to protect his mother from the consequences of his father's actions. And with every day that passes, that boy becomes more and more cognizant of the fact that he is utterly powerless to stop it, and that she will die as a result of his inadequacies unless someone stronger steps into help him and a bloody miracle occurs."
For the past three weeks, those words had surfaced in her mind whenever she had the opportunity to observe the young Malfoy. It did not take terribly long to start noticing similarities between Draco Malfoy's behavior and that of the young Severus Snape.
Of course, he would never have come to you – what reason would he have had to trust you? What had his experience taught him about trusting adults?
His father had beaten him, and his own mother did nothing to protect him. She remembered Eileen Prince as a student – quiet, meek, often overlooked, yet still eager to please – and was not surprised to learn that the witch had given up entirely. To allow the abuse of a child was terrible enough, but to then try to convince the child that the abuse was by some means justified was absolutely inexcusable. Eileen had all but abandoned him, but still Severus – a mere boy – had sought to protect her. He likely received nothing but further abuse for his efforts, and with no assistance or recognition, thought himself inadequate.
It was no wonder he had gravitated toward the Dark Arts. He was neglected, angry, afraid, powerless, and conditioned to expect violence instead of affection. Dark magic would have called to him like a siren, preying upon his emotions, twisting his anger and fear into hatred. He should have been a prime candidate to follow in Voldemort's footsteps… and yet, Severus Snape still maintained an unmistakable sense of honor, integrity, compassion, and a moral compass.
He had made mistakes, of course, but he punished himself for them more than anyone else could attempt to do. He would sacrifice everything to protect those who had, at best, turned their backs on him, and receive nothing in return. He was the strongest person she knew, and yet as she watched him, she knew very well that he still considered himself insufficient.
Minerva took in a deep breath and straightened her posture. Despite his argument that there was nothing she could have done, she knew there were actions she could have taken. She could have spoken with Eileen, offered something to make her see reason, to help her escape that house. Merlin, she would have adopted him herself if it had been possible. Even if she had just made the effort to earn his trust, she could have offered him support. Anything could have shown him that the Death Eaters were not the only ones who appreciated his abilities. She could have kept him safe from Voldemort – and from Albus.
She had failed him as a boy, but the witch would be damned if she failed him again.
"Severus?" she asked, catching his attention. "What is it you're thinking?"
The man shifted uncomfortably. "Weighing my options, I suppose."
"And what have you considered?"
"I could refuse," Snape replied quietly. "Risk the wrath of Dumbledore and the Dark Lord, abandon Draco and Narcissa to their fate, take our chances that the school stands even when the Ministry falls, and pledge my support openly to the Order. The Dark Lord knows full well my connection to Hermione, so she and I would both become direct targets – perhaps even bigger targets than Potter.
"We could flee – to the continent or the States – but it would only be a matter of time before the Dark Lord tracks us down. He found Karkaroff simple enough – he was dead within a year, and only after a few months of active searching. The Dark Lord only need be within a hundred miles before he can use the Mark to pinpoint my position."
Severus fell silent for a moment before continuing, "Or I could do as he wishes – cast the Killing Curse, spare him a prolonged death, and spare Draco's soul. The Dark Lord would see it as the ultimate proof that I am his, and would reward me greatly for accomplishing such a feat. He would give me the Headmastership after the Ministry falls. I could limit the damage done to the students and staff, hopefully, and find a way to continue aiding Potter from the inside. I could negotiate protection for Hermione from the Death Eaters, but I will become the number one target for the Order.
"They will hunt me, which means I will indirectly put her life at risk as well. I will have to go into hiding until the Ministry falls and the Aurory comes under the Dark Lord's control, and when the Dark Lord is defeated – if I manage to stay alive that long – I'll have to disappear again, taking Hermione with me. We'd likely have to live as Muggles. There's no statute of limitations on murder, and I will remain a wanted fugitive until I die. I cannot allow them to take me in alive – I will not let her suffer in excruciating pain when I could grant her a relatively quick death."
McGonagall closed her eyes and leaned her elbows onto her desk. "I would ensure that you were pardoned."
"And you would be able to accomplish this in less than a month?" he scoffed. When she glanced at him in confusion, he gave a sigh. "The bond… must be renewed every two to three weeks. If it isn't, I don't know how long she can dwindle on before the damage becomes irreversible."
"Buggering hell."
"A grievous understatement," he muttered.
The woman grunted in agreement. "Have you discussed any of this with Hermione?"
Grimacing, Snape shook his head and averted his eyes to the bookshelf.
"What is it?"
Closing his eyes, he huffed out a defeated breath. "I promised her… I gave her my word that I wouldn't let her die, and now… Whatever I do, I can't save her."
"Severus," she whispered. Tears formed in her eyes upon hearing the struggle in his voice, and Minerva immediately pushed out of her chair and came around the end of her desk. Knowing that he would likely not appreciate being embraced, she merely pulled the second armchair closer to his and placed a hand on his arm. "Severus."
The wizard shook his head again, refusing to meet her eye. "What choice do I have, Minerva? Her life is forfeit because of me."
"No," McGonagall growled as she moved her hand from his arm to his cheek. "That isn't true at all. Everything that has happened - You-Know-Who and Albus are the ones responsible for it; not you."
"But if I never –"
"Then it would have been somebody else," she argued. "And somebody else would not take such prodigious care of her as you do. You have kept her safe thus far, and I do not doubt that you will find a way to do so going forward."
At his disbelieving snort, the woman offered him a tiny smile. "No, I know you will. It's only been the matter of hours, and yet you have carefully thought through so many things. You, Severus Snape, are a crafty son-of-a-bitch, and represent the best traits of your house admirably. You will find ways to protect her, no matter what you choose."
A long moment of silence passed after she returned her hand to his arm. Finally, Snape sighed and flicked his eyes up at her. "I think I have to do this."
Minerva swallowed nervously, tightening her grip. "Are you certain? You don't –"
"I don't want to," he interrupted, "but there is no safe answer. I will serve Potter better from within the Inner Circle, and… I will not have three hundred souls on my head, Minerva. I can't."
Damn you, Albus. You've made the boy responsible for too much already, but to charge him with every life here goes too far. Fighting the urge to send a particularly nasty hex in the Headmaster's direction, she took hold of Severus's hand. "Whatever you decide, Severus, I will support you."
"I don't want to do this," he repeated in a softer voice, as though he were desperate for her to understand.
"I know."
"I… I've never…" The man grimaced. "I've caused a number of deaths, intentionally and not, but I… I've never actually killed anyone."
Seeing the pain on his face, the Gryffindor Head took hold of his other hand as well. "I honestly did not think it of you."
"What if I can't? What if I can't cast the Killing Curse?"
McGonagall exhaled. "Must it be an Avada?"
Severus nodded slowly. "It will best prove my allegiance to the Dark Lord by showing my mastery of the Dark Arts… and it will give the Headmaster the swift, painless exit he desires."
"But does not deserve," she growled. When he snapped his eyes to hers imploringly, she sighed and squeezed his hands. "I will never forgive him for this."
"Minerva –"
"I will not confront him, Severus, I promise. I will do my absolute best to feign ignorance, but do not ask me to absolve him of any of his sins. I will not." She watched him give a weary nod of acceptance, and then cleared her throat. "You've been preparing me for this since you first found out, haven't you? The Occlumency, the brainstorming sessions about Hermione, the subtle hints… you've taken it upon yourself to train me."
"You need to be ready," he shrugged.
"You could have just –"
Snape shook his head. "No. I couldn't tell you anything until I trusted your ability to occlude. I could not risk him discovering it."
"You-Know-Who? Or Albus?"
"Well, both, but I meant Albus." He sighed, pulling his hand from hers to rub his brow. "I need you in place. I do not trust that anyone else will listen when I have intelligence to share… especially not after I..."
"I will always listen to you," McGonagall affirmed. After a minute, she hesitantly asked, "Severus? What about the envelopes? I will understand if you do not yet wish to divulge their contents, of course."
"The first one contains the location of the Grangers and instructions for their support," he explained a moment later. "I have given you access to my Muggle bank account, if you recall how to use one. I've also included a written statement listing you as my inheritor, which should also give you access to my vault in Gringotts upon my demise."
"Severus," she gasped.
Ignoring her, he continued on. "The second… contains evidence that I would like you to use to keep Narcissa Malfoy and her son out of Azkaban."
"What? Evidence?"
Severus took in a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. "On the night that the Jiggers family was murdered, following a discussion with Albus, I requested an audience with the Dark Lord. He was interested in hearing that Bellatrix had decided to freelance without his permission. After he left the dining room to express his displeasure with her, Narcissa surreptitiously passed me an envelope. Inside was a second envelope for her son, and a letter addressed to myself, in which she articulated her hope that I am the traitor that Bellatrix accuses me of being.
"She explained that the Dark Lord has claimed Malfoy Manor as his own stronghold, imprisoning anyone who does not bear a Mark. Though the house-elves have been bound so as not to be able to transport anyone through the wards, they still answer to her, and she has been using them to spy on the Dark Lord and her sister. Through her, we have learned that the Dark Lord is actively researching wands and mythology, and that Bellatrix is not only plotting against myself and Hermione, but Draco as well."
Minerva covered her mouth in shock. "My god, Severus! She's… Is she endangering you?"
"I would like to think not," he replied. "Draco swears she will not, and Hermione urged me to trust them. Narcissa apparently taught herself Occlumency and Legilimency, and has been training her son since he was seven."
"Seven?" she exclaimed.
Snape nodded. "She foresaw the return of the Dark Lord, and wished to teach him before she lost the opportunity to do so. Neither Lucius nor Bellatrix are aware of it."
"And this is why Albus wanted to spare Draco the task?"
He shook his head as he shifted. "No. Albus knows nothing of Narcissa's involvement except that her life is being used to motivate Draco to complete his task. Were I to have given him that letter, he would have demanded I turn it over to the Dark Lord. It would be too great a risk to him to trust someone who is not on his side."
"But she is!" the Deputy Headmistress argued. "Against all odds, she is on our side."
"For the moment," the Slytherin countered. "But make no mistake, Narcissa Malfoy is on no one's side but her son's. She betrays the Dark Lord because it is clear to her that, no matter the outcome, Draco will suffer more at his hands than at ours. She admits that there is no hope for Lucius and herself, but is doing everything she can to ensure leniency for Draco."
"As any mother worth her salt would do," she muttered without thinking. Her stomach clenched upon noticing him flinch slightly, and she questioned whether or not she should apologize.
Before she could, Severus cleared his throat. "Outside of Hermione and myself, you are the only one in the Order who knows. I have made Draco aware of his mother's treachery, and he has sworn loyalty to me in order to protect her. I attempted to convince him that I was playing both sides against one another, but I don't doubt he's shrewd enough to accurately pin where my allegiance lies."
"You trust his ability as an Occlumens?"
"I do," he answered. "He has hidden things from the Dark Lord and has been occluding Albus all term. I have been working with him to improve his skills, but he is quite adept already. Should he keep practicing, I believe he will survive his birthday."
"His birthday?" Minerva questioned before listening in horror as he described the magic of the Dark Mark. To think that another child – even though he had always been among her least favorite students - was experiencing pain similar to that of Hermione's made her feel ill. Silently, she vowed to do whatever she could to make the young Malfoy's life more bearable without drawing suspicion.
"You understand now why I wish to aid him?"
"Yes," she replied, nodding. "I do, Severus, and I cannot but agree with you. Whatever you need from me, I will provide."
"Continue your Occlumency practice."
"Of course." She squeezed his arm once more as she heard the clock chime out the hour. "You should get some sleep. It's Sunday. No one will mind if you keep to your quarters for the rest of the day. Albus does not need to know your decision yet – let the bastard stew a while. And should you change your mind, you are well within your right, and we will find a way. You are not alone in this."
Snape nodded and then wiped his face. "I promised Hermione that I would be honest with her… but I do not believe I am ready to tell her."
"She needs to know, Severus," the witch said, "but I understand that it will be hard. Take your time, get some rest, and find her as soon as you are ready. She will need time to come to terms with it as well."
"I know," he whispered, pushing out of his chair.
Minerva rose alongside him. "If you would like my assistance, you have it."
He shook his head. "Thank you, but I should do this myself."
"Alright." She followed him to the door and then grabbed hold of his elbow. "Severus, I… I am so sorry for everything that has happened and will happen, but I am grateful that you trust me enough to tell me. Thank you."
After giving an uncomfortable nod, the wizard was gone, leaving her to stare absently at the door. A moment passed in tense silence before a shuddering sigh left her body, and she covered her face with her hands. As a sob threatened to tear its way out of her throat and her hands began to shake, the woman crept over to the armchair he had vacated and collapsed into it.
Wiping tears from her eyes, Minerva made up her mind not to attend meals in the Great Hall that day. She would do everything she could to meet Severus's requests, but if she had to face those twinkling blue eyes today, she would be hard-pressed not to blast them out of their bloody sockets.
XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX
Was that wise? Severus sighed loudly as he made his way through the twisting corridors toward his quarters. He had planned on telling Minerva about Dumbledore's demise and his potential role in it, but he had not expected to explain everything regarding the Malfoys. He was tired and overwhelmed, and her surprisingly enthusiastic defense of him had rattled him enough to loosen his tongue.
I suppose I should have expected the forcefulness of her reaction, considering the number of stunners she took defending Hagrid.
He had opted to hold back on the Horcrux angle, however, and had managed to escape her office before more of his secrets came tumbling forth. Should the Dark Lord catch wind of what was shared with her, the Malfoys, he, and Hermione would be no more, but the Order and Potter could still go on. Were he to know, though, that Dumbledore and Potter were aware of the Horcruxes, it could spell disaster for the Light.
It was not that he did not trust Minerva – clearly he trusted her only second to Hermione – but she was relatively untried as an Occlumens. Dumbledore was steadily weakening, and his prowess as a Legilimens could not be what it once was. But then again, Severus had had no chance at all to test Narcissa's shields to see if they were as strong as her son's. If he was going to risk his life on Narcissa, it was only fair he risk it on Minerva.
As soon as the portrait door swung open, and Snape stumbled across the threshold, he could sense Hermione. He did not see any sign of her in the sitting room, and when no greeting came forth, he considered the possibility that she had merely stopped by earlier to check in with him, but found him absent. Again, he felt guilty for not contacting her as he had promised, but perhaps he would feel secure enough to send her a message after a few hours of sleep.
Pulling at the fasteners of his robes, he froze in the doorway of the bedroom. The young witch was curled up in the middle of his bed, wrapped tightly around his pillow. As she was still wearing yesterday's clothes, he realized that she had likely snuck down during the night to wait for him. It was also possible that she had come to seek refuge if Potter had continued to make things difficult for her.
Bloody hell. That was something I should have told Minerva. The Deputy Headmistress still held some sway with The Boy Savior, and she cared a hundred times more about Hermione than did Albus 'I'm-A-Manipulative-Bastard' Dumbledore.
With a sigh, Snape threw aside his robes and unbuttoned his frock coat. Though a voice was shouting in his head that he should wake the girl up and send her elsewhere, another coyly argued that she was more likely to get caught leaving his office or quarters than being discovered in them. With Tonks parading around the school in her borderline decent clothing, Lupin was likely off drooling after her and would leave them alone.
Deciding he was too exhausted to think about it any further, the wizard perched on the edge of a chair to remove his boots and then padded over to the bed. He could tell how cold Hermione was due to how tightly she clung to the pillow and he snorted at the fact that she had not bothered to cover herself with any of the blankets. Muttering to himself, he climbed on top of the comforter as well, but grabbed hold of the extra blanket at the foot of the bed. After pulling it over both of them, he stretched out on his side and rested his head on his arm.
A minute or so passed before he realized that his arm would likely fall asleep faster than he would. Glancing over his shoulder first at the pillow beneath her pile of hair and then at the one in her clutches, he grumbled beneath his breath, but made no effort to remove either one. Instead, he wordlessly summoned his robes, stuffed them into a ball, and shoved them under his head. As he listened to the steady sounds of her breathing, Severus closed his eyes and worked to clear his mind. Before long, he was fast asleep.
XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX
Hermione slowly woke up to the realization that she was inexplicably warm and that there was a heavy weight pressing down on her. Blinking quickly, she remembered breaking into Severus's quarters and curling up with his pillow to wait. Apparently she had fallen asleep before he returned. Glancing down, she noticed that a blanket had been placed atop her, as had a human arm.
A smirk came to her face as she recognized that the primary source of heat was Severus, who was pressed against her back. Though she had no wish to wake him, her bladder could not be ignored. Moving gently, the witch slipped out from beneath his arm and rushed to the loo. Upon completing her business, she cast a Tempus charm, which revealed it to be just after eleven. Brunch was being served in the Great Hall, but Hermione decided she would rather return to bed.
Lifting Snape's arm, she slid underneath it again and nestled back against his chest. The sleeping wizard shifted in response, and she gasped as she felt something poking into her bottom.
"S-Severus?" Hermione mumbled, daring a peek over her shoulder. He gave a soft groan, but as far as she could tell, he was still asleep.
Is that a wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me? The witch bit down on her lip to keep from laughing at the thought. For a few minutes, she forced herself to close her eyes and not think of it. But then, she remembered their brief bout of passion in the infirmary and his admission that the idea of sleeping together had merit. Apparently, they had slept together – for how long, she did not know – but she wondered if he was expecting further. His behavior the past few days – snogging her in the library and infirmary, seducing her after the lesson with Tonks – definitely suggested that he wanted her, and if what was poking her was what she thought it was…
Her face flushed, and her stomach flipped slightly at the idea. Eventually, curiosity got the better of her, and the girl slowly slid her left arm behind her. When her hand came into contact with his clothed erection, Snape made a muffled noise and pressed his face into her neck. As his hips instinctually thrust against her hand, his own hand traveled up to her breast.
His breath was hot against her skin, and his continuing ministrations were driving her mad. Arousal spiked through her system, and before long she audibly moaned.
Hermione knew the exact moment he woke, for the wizard immediately stiffened. His hips stilled, as did the hand fondling her breast. A moment passed in tense silence before he cleared his throat.
"Granger, I… forgive me. I didn't mean to…" He trailed off uncomfortably, and attempted to remove himself from her person. Before he could, however, she caught hold of his hand and pressed it back to her chest.
"No, I… I liked it," she stammered. Embarrassed, she kept her eyes trained on his hand instead of turning around to face him. "Please?"
Severus frowned at the back of her head. "You want me to continue humping you in my sleep?"
"Well, I would prefer you'd do so awake," she snorted. "And you could…"
His fingertips began lazily stroking the side of her breast. "I could what?"
She swallowed heavily and closed her eyes. "Go a bit further than that."
"A bit?" he repeated, propping himself up enough to look down at her.
Feeling his gaze upon her, Hermione nodded and chanced a glance at his face. She could see that he was aroused even though he was eyeing her questioningly. With a small smile, she whispered, "Please, Severus."
An intense look flooded his features as the man leaned down to kiss her. His tongue slipped past her lips to meet her own, and her hand left his to tangle in his hair. After a few minutes, he moved his lips to her throat and sank back against the mattress. His hand slipped beneath her shirt and blindly sought the clasp of her bra. Upon undoing that, he pushed it out of the way and began toying with her nipples.
"Ohh," she gasped before reaching behind her to cup the front of his trousers.
Severus shook his head against her and groaned. "You are incorrigible."
With a giggle, Hermione pressed her face into the pillow. "Please."
Smirking, he slid his other arm beneath her body and then sought the button of her jeans. Unzipping her, he slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her knickers and gently spread her labia. With one hand stimulating her clitoris, the other teasing her breasts, and his mouth nipping near her earlobe, it did not take very long for the young witch to begin bucking against his hand.
"Yes, Severus…. Yes…. Yes… Oh! Oh! No, stop. Stop, please."
As soon as he comprehended her request, the wizard detached himself and looked down at her in concern. "Stop?"
Exhaling slowly, the girl blinked up at him. "I w-want you to… to…"
"To what?"
"To… you know…" She huffed in frustration. "I want you… inside me."
"Oh." He gave a relieved chuckle and, feeling too tired to deal with their clothing, reached for his wand. "Was that so bloody hard?"
"No…" Hermione rolled her eyes before feeling a bit mischievous. "But you are."
Snorting loudly, the man magically removed their clothes, set his wand upon the nightstand, and then lay back down behind her. She was about to turn over, but stopped when he gently pulled her leg over his and lined up his member with her channel. As he gently pushed into her, her curiosity quickly melted into pleasure, and she arched back against his chest.
"Mmmph, Severus," she whispered, resting the back of her head on his clavicle, while his hands returned to their earlier positions. His thrusts were slow, yet deep, and though she disliked being unable to see his face, she did like being wrapped up in his arms. Feeling safe and warm, she closed her eyes and placed her right hand over his as it worked at the sensitive nub between her thighs. Her left hand trailed behind her again, coming to rest upon the side of his hip, which flexed with every push inside of her.
The sweet burn was spreading through her body by the time he began to gasp in her ear, and her muscles soon began quivering with exertion. She cried out upon reaching her climax, and Snape followed before long.
Silence pervaded the room as they breathlessly clung to each other. A smile graced Hermione's face as she reflected on how much she would enjoy Sunday mornings in the future, when there would be no Voldemort or teacher-student relationship issues to contend with. She would appreciate the brief moments of intimacy they could find with one another in the meantime, but she certainly looked forward to being able to lay claim to him and to wake up every morning in his arms.
Though his eyes were also closed, Severus was definitely not smiling. Guilt was churning in his gut as his thoughts returned to the task that lay before him. Despite the assurances that Minerva had given him, he still blamed himself for the situation they were facing. Even if he had not intentionally done anything, he had – as Dumbledore had pointed out – made the girl promises that he could have had no way of keeping. To offer hope and then snatch it away was perhaps crueler than never explicitly offering it in the first place.
"Severus?" the witch ventured finally. "Are you asleep?"
"No," he sighed, reluctantly withdrawing his hold on her as she made motions to roll over. He realized that taking her from behind was not what she expected, but he had been afraid that looking into her face as they made love would crumble what remained of his emotional stability.
"I sort of ran into Remus and Tonks last night, and… well, since they both believe I'm… involved with Draco," she mumbled, looking up at him from where she lay on her stomach, "I told them about what happened with Harry."
"I see," Snape replied, resting on his back.
"Remus said he would talk to Harry, and Tonks took me down to check on Draco. He seemed alright, relatively speaking… though he was a bit concerned you might get angry with him. You know, since Tonks was there, we sort of hugged a bit." She tilted her head to better see him. "Are you mad about that?"
The wizard frowned at the ceiling and shook his head.
"Good," she sighed, "because I also sort of told Tonks that she should keep an open mind about Draco and his mother."
His eyes snapped to hers. "What?"
Hermione winced. "Well, she expressed concern for Draco over Harry, and mentioned something about her mother having been close with Narcissa. When she said that maybe they weren't so bad after all, I told her that they weren't. I thought it would…I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't have. I'm sorry for not –"
"I'm not upset, Hermione," he interrupted.
"You're not?"
Severus sighed and wiped a hand over his face. "I can't exactly be upset with you for hinting at something when I actually exposed everything to Minerva."
"You told her?" she gasped, wide-eyed. "When? Why? What did she say?"
He smirked briefly at her rapid succession of questions. "Earlier this morning. Because I thought we could trust her, and because it's about time she is clued in on some of the secrets she'll need when she becomes Head of the Order. And she essentially voiced all of the concerns you and I have had thus far. I think she'll be willing to assist with them should the need arise."
"Oh. Does she know about…"
"Albus dying?" he guessed. "Yes. I thought she needed to know."
"How'd she take it?"
The wizard grimaced and kept his eyes trained on the ceiling. "Not well. I practically had to sit on her to keep her from charging after him and doing something regrettable. If she is to succeed him, we cannot let him find out that she knows anything. I believe that her Occlumency is strong enough, and his Legilimency weak enough, to prevent discovery via that route."
Hermione nodded and reached her hand out to touch his face. "Are you alright?"
Steeling his expression, he nodded. "I'm just… bloody tired."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have woken you. I thought you had come in last night, but if you talked to Professor McGonagall this morning…"
"No, I was… the Headmaster kept me preoccupied quite a long time. You were asleep when I checked, and I didn't want to wake you. I left Minerva's office about nine."
"Oh, god! You've barely had more than two hours' sleep! Severus, I'm so sorry!"
"Would you stop apologizing?" the man grumbled. "It isn't your fault. Believe me."
"I do believe you," she whispered.
Snape narrowed his eyes and turned his head to look at her. "What?"
"Well, I thought the… curse might, erm, take that as a command," the witch mumbled sheepishly, "so –"
"Fuck!" he snapped, covering his face with his hands. After a loud groan, he cleared his throat. "Granger, believe me only if you think it is the wisest course of action."
Donning a small smile, Hermione crawled over to him and placed her head on his shoulder. "I will always believe you."
The professor winced at the statement and blew out a deep breath. "Perhaps you shouldn't."
Frowning, the witch slipped her arm across his chest. "Why? Are you seducing me to the Dark Lord's ranks?"
"No, but…" He was silent for a moment before simply stating, "No."
"Then there isn't an issue," she declared. "I trust you. End of story."
When he said nothing in return, the girl moved her head to look up at him. His eyes were closed and his mouth pinched into a thin line. She could tell that he was not yet asleep, and knew that he would not sleep if she continued talking. They had not actually discussed much of his summoning, or what would consequences there might be for Draco's failed attempt, or how the poisoning had affected Dumbledore's health. Regardless of her burning curiosity, however, she knew he needed to rest before anything else. His safety and hers – and Draco's, and Harry's, and the rest of the Wizarding World's – depended on it.
Hermione sighed and kept silent until long after she knew he had fallen asleep. Then, as smoothly as was possible, she slipped out of the bed and nipped into the loo for a quick shower. After redressing, she watched him for a minute to make sure he was still sleeping before heading through the sitting room to pull open the portrait door. As she rounded the corner of the staircase, she cried out in surprise at nearly colliding with her Head of House.
"Oh, Merlin!" McGonagall exclaimed, clutching her chest. "Forgive me, Miss Granger."
"It's alright," the girl replied. "I should have paid more attention."
"No, no. I… Well, I was just going to check on him," the elder witch explained, gesturing down the stairs.
"He's sleeping at the moment."
Minerva gave a sigh of relief. "Good. I was afraid he might be brooding instead of resting."
"Not yet, at least," Hermione mumbled.
The Deputy Headmistress nodded in understanding before gesturing in the direction of her quarters. "Remus was chatting with Potter and Weasley not terribly far from here when I passed them. They won't come this way, but you would come across them on your trek back to the main part of the castle."
"Oh. I… should I go through his office, then?"
"Nonsense," McGonagall tutted. "You'll use my Floo."
"Oh, right. Thank you."
"It is hardly an inconvenience, dear."
Hermione followed the woman into her quarters. "Did he tell you about Harry, then?"
"Severus, you mean?"
The girl nodded. "He told me that he talked to you about… things."
Minerva snorted sadly and looked down at the container of Floo powder in her hands. "Yes, we discussed things, but no. Remus also approached me this morning seeking advice on how to address the situation with Potter and yourself. I must say I appreciate knowing the truth about Mr. Malfoy so I could ensure that Remus does take this seriously."
Moisture was apparent in her eyes as she fixed her gaze on her favorite student. "What you have done – both you and Severus – is truly remarkable, Hermione. To shoulder so much responsibility is… well, it's bloody heroic; that's what it is. I'm afraid that no matter what we do, neither of you will receive the level of acknowledgement nor appreciation that such sacrifice deserves. For that, I apologize deeply, and as I told Severus, you will always have my full support."
"It's… erm, thank you, Professor," Hermione replied, shifting uncomfortably.
"Please, call me Minerva. You've more than earned it."
The young witch felt her cheeks flush as she smiled. "Al-alright."
"Potter may be the Chosen One, but he certainly isn't in the upper half of my students," McGonagall smirked. "We'll do what we can to set him straight as soon as possible. I must confess, though, that I admire your patience with him all these years. I imagine that also must serve you well when dealing with our fearsome Potions Master."
With a chuckle, the girl shrugged her shoulders. "I suppose so."
"Well, if there's ever anything I can do to help, do not hesitate to ask."
Hermione stepped toward the fireplace as a connection was opened to the Gryffindor Common Room. Before stepping into the green flames, she paused to give her Head of House another smile. "Thank you, Prof - Minerva."
"Of course, Hermione."