wl_mods (wl_mods) wrote in wizard_love, @ 2008-03-04 17:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | *fic, hermione, snape |
Special delivery for psyfic
Title: At Dawn (The Twilight Prevails)
Author: envinyatar15
Recipient: psyfic
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Characters: Hermione/Severus; cameos by some OCs
Word Count: 7,574
Warnings: blindness, amnesia, magical bonds, oral sex
Summary: To be quite honest, Severus can't figure Granger out. She's nothing like he remembered; the shrillness of youth gone, with no indication she ever knew him. What's her purpose in being here, he asks himself. What is she after?
Author's notes: This was one hell of a story to write, both in a positive and in a negative sense. I hope the result pleases - psyfic, I took some liberty with your prompts and allowed this story to go where it wanted. Inspiration came from Kristen Barry's "Ordinary Life" (Cruel Intentions OST). Many thanks to S for her amazing beta work.
And I shed my soul, feel it kneeling down
I'm clutching my faith, pull it tightly 'round
You're moving your mouth but don't make a sound
But I feel the walls slowly tearing down
Magic, Severus knows, doesn't ever really leave you; even when living among Muggles and without a wand. Magic isn't something you choose to perform, it's something that chooses to work with you, if you want it to or not.
During wizarding education you learn to control what is essentially uncontrollable. You learn the words you have to whisper, the way to stroke Magic to get in line, do what you want. But you aren't ever Magic's superior; you'll have to have a partnership going or else you will forever be riding shotgun. Magic is volatile, and if you don't treasure her she'll have things her own way.
Severus learns that when he walks toward his new life.
*~*~*
Leaving the wizarding world is exactly as difficult as he's always thought, which is to say: not at all. There is nothing to leave behind, Albus dead by his own hand, Lily's son protected and alive. Severus' job is done. There would forever be dubious looks travelling after him if he stayed, and who is he to miss those? No, better to be dead and forgotten than alive and mistrusted.
There's one thing Severus can't leave behind though, as much as he wishes to, and that's Magic. He's had an intense partnership with her, but when he leaves the wizarding world he decides to ditch her too, like a remnant of a life best forgotten. She would only make things more difficult in the new life he's starting.
Magic has different plans.
Severus took an antidote to the snake venom as a precaution. He knew he wouldn't be able to avoid the poison's long-term effects, but at least it could prevent the worst from happening. Maybe. And so comes the day, the fall after his second life has begun and he's finally beginning to settle in the small town he's chosen as his new home, that he wakes up and realises the world looks darker than it did the night before. It's a process that spreads over the next few months. The owner of the local pharmacy where Severus works urges him to see a specialist, but Severus declines. There is no cure for this kind of magical affliction. If there had been a chance he would have found it himself months ago, but the snake venom is like a bad memory: so deeply interwoven with what you are that you can't escape it.
Severus wants to quit his job eventually, because when everything's a blur how is he supposed to correctly handle the different medications? Jack, the owner, however is determined to find a way for Severus to work. "I don't want your pity," Severus says, about to decline, his eyebrows drawn together and his lips a thin line as he watches the dark patch that might have been his friend. "This isn't pity," Jack assures. "It's been a long time since I had a capable hand helping me out." But Severus isn't so sure about staying. He needs the money to survive, of course, but now that he's free he won't let himself be dependent on anyone else. He feels too much that staying at the pharmacy would create just that: an interdependency that Severus fears he won't be able to break, especially now that he's losing his eyesight. Even though Jack doesn't seem like the type Severus is careful; he's been burnt enough times in this life.
Against his better judgment Severus gives in. He stays and allows Jack to give him an assistant.
The gradual blindness isn't troubling Severus too much. He thinks of it as a kind of penance for the sins he's committed. Slytherins aren't cut out to be saints, but that doesn't mean they can't feel the weight of their actions.
He has time to grow accustomed to losing his eyesight. His other senses cover for the loss, but with a lot of shifting and reshaping and pain involved. He spends a lot of those months with a headache, and anger and bitterness threatening to spill over. He hates the cane he has to use with a passion. It makes him feel weak, and for a man so used to navigating everything effortlessly, this is like a punch to the gut. But he takes to the sunglasses at once. He's used to living in hiding, and the sunglasses give him a chance to hide in broad daylight.
Maybe all these changes are why at first he doesn't notice the other gradual change that's taking place. He's tried abandoning Magic, but she is not abandoning him. It's like another sense awakens, but so slowly and so subtly that Severus only realises what's happened when he's become accustomed to using this sense.
Magic holds her part of the relationship when Severus is in dire need. She is like a magnetic field around him, helping him feel his way around physical barriers. Everyone in the little community where Severus is living admires how quickly he grows accustomed to his handicap. In truth he's not doing this on his own; maybe a wizard and magic live symbiotically. There's nothing miraculous happening around Severus, like maybe a chair he might be walking into sliding out of the way. There's just an awareness deep in his gut that there's something in the way and what shape it has and what is the best way around it. It's not a very refined sense and he still needs the cane to work out the smaller bumps in the road, much to his dismay; for the cane marks him as an invalid for all the world to see. Severus is furious that the sense doesn't give him better knowledge, but then it gives him at least anything at all, so maybe he should be a little more grateful.
Maybe it's better to just accept things the way they are.
*~*~*
With time Severus discovers his sense helps him discern people, too. It surprises the people he's interacting with and maybe it freaks them out too, but to Severus it's the opposite. Maybe he's getting something back here after all.
He works half-time at the pharmacy now, afternoon shifts with the daughter of a friend of Jack's helping him out after school. Meg is a silly girl but at least she knows when to hold her mouth, which is pretty much whenever Severus is preoccupied and can't pay attention to his sense or memory of location. His glowering frustration had her worried a lot the first weeks, but she got his message at long last. He may still have been adjusting to losing a sense that had been important to him, but he was no fool. He could figure things out for himself.
Meg just keeps to the back now, only coming forth when he calls for her. Just as it ought to be.
Severus is settled and perfectly content in his new life when spring approaches.
Which is, of course, just the time the shop's bell rings, announcing a customer that will turn the careful order upside-down.
*~*~*
Severus' entire body tingles the moment he concentrates on the woman's presence. Male and female essence are inherently different, and there's no mistaking this is a woman. Which isn't what disturbs Severus so. It's rather the fact that goosebumps form on his forearms and he thinks the air might be sizzling with electricity.
Severus understands exactly what this means. The woman is a witch.
On silent feet she moves forward to the counter, then waits, shuffling a little. Severus stands rooted to the spot, his thoughts running rampant in his head. How did the witch find him? What did she want?
As nobody comes to serve her there's a sigh, more a loud exhalation than the irritated pressing out of air Severus is so used to from grandmothers with their grandchildren in tow. The sound is what spurs Severus into action. Severus' heart thumps in his chest, flutters wildly like a wild bird caught in a cage. Go away. Go away go away goawaygoaway, he thinks, but there's no way he's going to let the witch see his weakness. He walks forward, fixes a fake smile on his face. "How may I help you, Miss?"
"I'd like some Aspirin. I've been having dreadful headaches lately," she answers him. Her voice is firm if a little quiet. It reminds Severus of a strong character that maybe has been through too much – he wracks his brain desperately. He is sure he knows this person. He can't figure it out though – if he did, at least he'd have leverage against whatever the witch is sure to want from him. Everyone has a weakness, and Severus knows the right spots to push of almost anyone he ever met. Except now everything from before his blindness seems disconnected, the memories already slipping away like snow melting when spring approaches.
"I'm sorry to hear that," he offers, a warning of stealth barely hidden behind the curtain of compassion. She shuffles around a little, probably reaching out for the packages on the far left of the cash register. "Here you are." Then it's only the sound of the cash register opening and closing. Its finality rings in Severus' ear long after the witch is gone.
*~*~*
"So, what monstrosity crawled over you last night?" Jack asks when Severus is over for dinner. Severus doesn't even pause for a second, just keeps continuing shuffling spaghetti with tomato sauce and Parmesan cheese into his mouth. That's one of the three dishes Jack, successful bachelor, is able to make by himself.
"Why do you ask?" Severus asks eventually, after he's swallowed the sour taste in his mouth. It's the middle of the path - neither affirmation nor denial - that will bring him the furthest with Jack.
"Oh, just because." Jack has that You can tell me anything voice that really pushes Severus to his limit. Sometimes he really wishes he hadn't lost his vision, just to see the look on Jack's face when Severus punches him.
"Is that right."
"Yeah. See, you've been actin' all weird since yesterday."
There's clearly a question mark somewhere at the end of that sentence, but Severus pointedly ignores it. He keeps eating away at his spaghetti even though he's lost his appetite.
The table creaks, and the next moment Jack speaks his voice is rough and low and too close for Severus' comfort. "Your past coming back to haunt you?"
They both know there are ghosts in Severus' past. Jack hasn't been Severus' friend and employer for naught; of all the people out there he knows Severus best. Doesn't mean that Severus has been talking about it though. Doesn't mean he's going to.
So he does the next best thing and remains silent.
*~*~*
Severus hears the talk on the streets. That there's a young woman in town, out at Baker's farm, helping the old man out with the cows and pigs. That she's beautiful and single and maybe Mrs. Talchard's son or one of Mrs. Grossman's nephews would marry her?
Severus walks and walks and walks until he's beyond the voices following him. He goes farther than he's ever been on his own since he lost his vision. When in doubt run as fast and far as you can; retreat to regroup may be the only way to save yourself.
In the woods he stops. There are the unmistaken sounds of life all around him: the birds chirping, the wind whispering, the trees creaking among themselves.
Severus screams until his voice gives out. The deafening silence that follows does nothing to soothe his still-fluttering heart.
*~*~*
Jack must have heard the talk too, for he doesn't leave Severus alone. Inevitably there comes the day that Severus cracks.
"What's it to you anyway?" he shouts, his every muscle enraged as his fingers and jaw lock like they want to strangle the air.
"I care," says Jack quietly, but it's not what Severus hears.
"Right, poor old blind bastard. Great charity case. Now he freaks out about a goddamn customer, let's ask him about it until he breaks and tells me everything that's ever gone wrong in his life!"
Severus can sense pain radiating from Jack. The silence that follows his outburst makes Severus rethink what he just said. The quiet lays on them like a thick blanket and neither of them has the strength to resurface from underneath it. Suddenly there are walls in place that haven't been there in a long time.
Still Jack waits, patiently and understandingly. Damn the man.
"I should leave," Severus says after a silence that lasted for too long. Because really, what is there left to say?
*~*~*
Despite what has been happening since the witch came into town, Severus' routine doesn't change. Mornings are spent slowly, like there's all the time in the world. Noons are spent out and about, sometimes shopping, sometimes talking, sometimes walking. Noon is the time of the day that Severus really feels he belongs. There is no resentment against him, no dark looks following his every movement; no one expecting more than he can give.
He's just a man, not the spy whose loyalty is forever questioned. He's a neighbour, not the Head of Slytherin House. It feels infinitely good to live after such a long time of existing.
Except now there's that stupid witch threatening this very life Severus has built for himself. He wanted to put his past behind him but now it's waving in his face. And Jack is looking for answers Severus can't give.
*~*~*
Severus won't run this time around. This is his place, his life, and he's going to stand his ground. He may be a retired warrior, but he knows his territory.
He knows the witch is still in town, but he hasn't caught a name yet. Neither she nor old man Baker seem to be the social type. As much as hope's trying to worm its way into his heart though, Severus can't bring himself to believe she'll leave without confronting him. And that may be a long time to come, for she is sure to remain at the farm until the busy spring season's over. Lady Luck is seldom on his side.
It's a late morning in May, the sun too warm on their skin for this time of the year, when they finally meet again. Things with Jack have been tense for weeks but Severus can't apologise, can't make it up, simply cannot talk about it. Does the past have to have a present? he asks Jack, and Jack shakes his head no. Severus can feel the lie, but this one time he appreciates the sentiment.
It kind of figures that Jack would be the one to initiate the meeting. He and Severus have agreed to lunch that day. But it's not only Jack whom Severus hears and senses approach - the witch is with him. Severus tenses immediately, his hand going to his sleeve in search of a wand that is no longer there. Bugger. He doesn't have any other defence mechanism at hand, and even though Magic stirs he's promised not to use her this way again. She is not a weapon.
Jack is always cautious to speak to Severus first before he touches him. "Severus," he says cheerfully by way of greeting, his hand gripping Severus' shoulder a little too hard a moment later. "May I introduce you to Hermione Granger?"
That's when the alarm bells in Severus' head go off with a blearing sound, drowning anything else out. The warning in Jack's voice is forgotten as the knuckles of his hands turn white. She isn't trying to extend her hand to him, or maybe it's Jack who is stalling her. "Mister Snape," she says instead, her voice deeper, smoother than he remembers. "I hope I'm not troubling you."
"Not at all," Severus grits out, and with that it's decided.
War has begun.
*~*~*
To be quite honest, Severus can't figure Granger out. She's nothing like he remembers; the shrillness of youth gone, with no indication she ever knew him. What's her purpose in being here, he asks himself later at home. What is she after?
*~*~*
Jack is subtle, but not subtle enough to fool a Slytherin spy. It's evident he's still prying, and worse, he now has an excuse to watch Severus interacting with his former student, for Jack brings Granger along to meetings with Severus more often than not. "What's it with you and Hermione?" Jack asks one day nonplussed. "What's the story?" It sounds more like he's musing to himself than he's expecting an answer.
Severus doesn't grace him with one.
*~*~*
There's a story now where none was before. Because the magical field is warming, sizzling, bubbling whenever Granger approaches. There is something happening here. Magic is trying to tell him something, is trying to urge him closer to her. But what's the reason?
This reaction of his sense intrigues Severus at the same time that it makes him uneasy. It's never been like this – what he's feeling is a craving deep inside to get as close as possible, physically, emotionally; and what's worse, he's sensing corresponding feelings in her. Conflict too – wonder, confusion, but also attraction. Which makes Severus wonder even more. He's not attractive. He has greasy hair and he has a hooked nose and he's blind, for God's sake. So whatever should be causing these feelings?
*~*~*
Severus isn't one for running. He may need longer to make up his mind now, the sharpness of the soldier left behind with everything else he once knew, but he knows he's got to confront Granger about what she's doing in town. He isn't really one for straightforward addressing the problem at hand either; he rather waits for intentions to reveal themselves. That way he can't misstep. But this dancing around one another has been going on for too long already, and it's time to make things plain. Four weeks of tension is enough. He's not going to go back to the wizarding world and he's not going to let her carry news about him back either. It's just a question of what he can offer her to keep her mouth shut, or, worst case scenario, make her keep her mouth shut. Morality can only get you so far.
Judging from what he's sensing from her, maybe he won't have to go that far, though.
His decision is made; the next time he meets her - not difficult with the way Jack keeps pushing them together, the curious asshole - he will drag her off and learn the ground he's standing on. Even if it's quicksand he's determined not to drown.
He has his ways.
*~*~*
He feels her before even Jack sees her, which really isn't a good sign. They're sitting in a café that offers a pretty good overview of High Street. It might have been ages since Severus could use this kind of overview to his advantage, but he remembers how things look. That he's now noticing Granger before Jack just shows how very tuned his magical sense is to the witch.
Severus isn't all that good with concealing the sudden tension in his shoulders, it seems, for Jack touches him. "What's up?" he asks, in that concerned tone Severus really doesn't need to hear right now.
"Nothing," is his terse reply, as if it answered everything.
He's glad that Jack doesn't call him on it. He feels Jack's attention sweeping away from Severus to the figure that must be approaching. "Hermione!" he calls over the street. Severus imagines how his friend is waving the woman over frantically. Jack is an odd mix of curiosity, protectiveness and the kind of enthusiasm that can get really annoying. Right now there's no room for annoyance though, for all of Severus' remaining senses are focused on the approaching witch, trying to read what Magic is telling him.
"Jack, Severus," Granger says to them both, friendly enough. "Thank you so much for the invitation. I really need to have you two over at my place, though." Severus can feel her eyes resting on his face, and he wonders like so many lunch meetings before, what is it with this woman and her uncanny interest in me?
It's curious; she's changed so much since he knew her. She's colder now, more distant, doesn't shove her opinions on anyone as aggressively as she used to. War must have taught her how to control herself.
Severus only nods in her general direction, neither affirmation nor denial for her proposition. Jack is the main conversant of the two friends. With third parties Severus sits back and observes, trying to read the finer details in what is being said. His observations often surprise Jack, and they often prove right. Much to Jack's dismay.
Lunch is as normal as it can ever be between the three of them. Jack talks, Hermione answers, Severus listens. Observes. Reads. Only when lunch is over and the three of them stand, things deviate from their usual path. It's not Severus who makes the first step however; rather it's Granger. She touches his arm, draws his attention toward her. "I'd like to speak with you about an idea. I gather you have extensive knowledge of herbs?"
Severus' answer is a suspicious nod, his eyebrows drawn together. He practically hears the smile in her words and wonders whether this is where they show their cards or just another turn on the road to solution. "Directly?"
"If at all possible." There's determination behind her words, but Severus still has the chance of refusal. It makes him wonder, really, because if she survived the war she must have learnt how to turn things to her advantage. This is not the way to do it.
But Severus won't let this possibility at drawing the lines slide by unused. "Come," he says gruffly.
Finally Jack must have caught on. Severus can feel the curiosity flowing off of him in waves, but the pharmacy owner remains silent. Still there's a promise of I'll come back later and you will tell me in the air. Truth be told, if he had asked right now, there wouldn't have been much Severus could have said; and he's not sure about what he can say later. That remains to be seen.
They quickly say their goodbyes, then Jack is gone.
Granger's emotions are a wild mix of flavours, calmness with maybe a little weariness and confusion, and something Severus can't quite place underneath. Severus' sense has never yet betrayed him since he learnt how to work it, but the feelings he's picking up don't make sense. Her feelings are clearer to him than he's ever felt with anyone else, which is disturbing. He believes it may be the fact that she's a witch that makes their connection so strong, but deep down Severus thinks this runs much deeper.
He wants to get straight to the point, but he won't do so out in the open. Abruptly he turns around and starts walking, his cane slithering from one side to the other in front of him. The weariness he's feeling from behind intensifies. It makes Severus smile, satisfied. "Miss Granger," he calls over his shoulder, "accompany me to my flat." There's a please flying around in the air that Severus ignores. He's never been one for common courtesy.
Granger follows Severus without a word. The short trip to his small flat is spent in silence, too much current like a wall between them. Only when Severus opens the door leading to the small living room does he open his mouth. "Sit."
He hears the upholstery of an armchair dip under her weight. Severus himself remains standing, on his guard and wary to put himself in a situation of equality. He's more vulnerable than she is, and maybe standing won't really help him should it come to some kind of a showdown, but at least for now it feels like he's in power. He's sure Granger feels the same.
Never shrug off the little things. Sometimes it's what decide the outcome of a battle. And battle they are about to do.
It's awhile before Granger opens her mouth, tension ringing clear through the air. "So what's this about, then?"
Severus crosses his arms and laughs hollowly. "What's this about?" he mocks, his voice a parody of her question. "You asked me for a private conversation."
"I did. Because I wanted to give you the chance to tell me what is going on," she shoots back.
"Come on, girl, don't plead ignorance. We both know better." Severus' jaw is working, anger bubbling up within him, white-cold squeezing his insides.
Granger shifts on the armchair, and Severus can't help it but smirk. "What do you mean?"
Just as quickly as the triumphant smirk appeared on his features is it gone again. With two quick strides he's in Granger's personal space, up close and feeling Granger's breath on his cheek. Something inside him jolts, and he thinks he hears her breath hitch the same moment. "Don't play games with me, girl," he whispers, his voice dangerously low.
Her answer is laying a hand on his cheek.
Severus draws back as if she slapped him. He takes a step back and promptly runs into the table behind him. A curse makes its way to the air as he grips the edge of the table as if it were his lifeline.
Granger's voice, when it comes, is soft, smooth, determined. "I know you from before."
Severus doesn't know what to say to that statement, confusion and fury battling within him now. He can't help but feel that there's even more to this than he thought. There are depths here he should tread lightly. So he waits.
"I recognise you," is all she says, however. Severus cannot spot an immediate falsehood in her voice, nor does he feel any particular hints that she's lying; instead all there is is the difference he's felt before.
"Miss Granger," he starts, his own voice a picture of his frustration. Before he can go on he feels her stand and come closer, invading his personal space this time around. Her feet are light on the ground; and suddenly the memory slams home. Suddenly he remembers how he heard her approach back then; remembers the green and white and red of spells flying through the woods.
"I don't remember," Granger says lowly. "I remember waking up at St. Mungo's with two men sitting by my bedside. One claimed to be my boyfriend; the other to be my best friend. They said I was knocked out fighting a Death Eater, that I must have had my memory modified. That when two others were killed by Avada Kedavra, I survived." Severus can feel her eyes burning a hole in his skull, trying to penetrate the depth of his mind. Her voice isn't more than a whisper, but all the more penetrating for it. "I can't remember and never will. I left them, looking for a new start where at least no one knows me either. I don't remember, but I recognise you. Why should I recognise you?" Severus leans away from her, back into the table, but she follows him. "What is it that you're hiding?" He feels the fire underneath her words and knows for sure she's not going to let him walk away from this. It's all or nothing, and the odds don't stand in his favour.
"Tell me," she pleads. Severus can hear the desperation in her voice, but there's a turmoil inside himself that drowns out her last words completely. No, he thinks. No.
We can't be Bonded.
The silence stretches on for longer than an eternity, into heaven and back.
"I don't know anything," he says at long last, but it's not relaxed, not smooth, not anything he wishes his voice to be. The word Lie builds a wall between them, tuning out all the emotions he's feeling coming from the witch in front of him.
"Then why do I feel like myself when I'm close to you? Even though I don't know who that is?" Her questions flutter into his ear, her breath hot on his skin, and suddenly - suddenly he knows this tension and wonders how he ever could have misinterpreted this.
Magic has her own ways, they say, and Severus realises sharply what she's telling him. He feels punished after all, as if the ordeal he's been going through has just been the first step on a long journey. He feels forced to make amendments for his past; but he doesn't want to (I don't have a past any longer). He tries to shoulder his way past Granger, his senses confused as the need to run overtakes him. He's controlled in his panic though. Too easy it would be to let Magic slip now, when it's crucial she doesn't. Can't let her dominate him. Can't let her strengthen the Bond anymore.
But in his battle he doesn't count on Granger. She's stronger now than he thought her to be, her fingernails biting into his arm even through his sleeves. He trips as she grips him and pulls him back to her, against her. He completely loses his balance.
It's her who yanks him back into an upright position before he hits the ground. It's her who crushes their mouths together.
Severus struggles against her, pushes, but she's like a stone in the sea, slippery and immovable. He keeps pushing at her, keeps trying to twist away, but his balance is in her hands and if she let him go, he'd fall.
He's not so sure he isn't falling right now anyway.
Her teeth are biting at his lips, her tongue not asking for entrance but demanding it, and when he parts he doesn't grant it, he gives like a falling fortress. She invades his mouth with vigour. There's strength behind it, but no sharpness, and Severus' gasps in disbelief. He feels like his life was on a plate and she just gave it back to him. Maybe that's a sufficient explanation for why his hands are fisted in her shirt, not pushing away but keeping her there.
But then she breaks away from him and Severus stumbles back against a wall, regaining his balance. The spell is broken. Severus is himself again, and he feels the punch in the gut that is realisation. Didn't want to give myself into another's hands again.
Granger's struggling for air is a sharp reminder of what could have happened. He forces himself away from the wall, away from dependence. If he weren't wearing his sunglasses his eyes would be burning oil, but like this he can only draw himself up to his full height.
"Why do I feel like I need this?" she asks before Severus can open his mouth.
Severus won't answer her. Instead he says "Go," his voice tight and full of anger. He needs to control himself so much, he's nearly shaking with the effort.
Granger complies without another word of defiance, even though Severus is sure her looks would have spoken a different language.
She will be back.
*~*~*
Jack bombards Severus with questions.
"Where do you know her from?" - "From my previous job." - "Did she follow you here?" - "I don't think so." - "Did you two have something going on?" - "No!"
There's an outrage and maybe an edge of hysteria in his voice that makes Severus realise he may have told Jack more than he intended.
"But - there's something going on now?"
Severus remains silent, because he wouldn't know how to tell Jack precisely what was happening without inadvertently revealing the existence of a wizarding world.
"I don't know," Severus says instead, because he truly doesn't. Granger has been avoiding him for the past couple of days, not even reacting to invitations from Jack, so Severus really doesn't know if there's anything going on now. Aside from that kiss and the sensation of something missing, an itch deep inside that Severus can't scratch and supposes won't go away until she gets close.
Which is a terrifying thought.
It's a week later that Granger comes barging into his flat late at night, when Severus is still up contemplating his life and his plans for the future.
*~*~*
Severus' reaction is instinctive: tension in his back and thighs, muscles waiting for any order that might come from the brain. Granger comes closer, and the magic in the air between them sizzles like it wants to burn them alive. Who knows, maybe it does. Magic has her own ways, after all.
But Granger only sits down at the table across from Severus. He can't even get a word in before she's talking.
"What happened?" she asks, as if he would answer her now. He can't – realisation of what exactly did go down still too fresh in his mind to have made sense of it - and he feels she knows this. Instead he shakes his head, not even pretending he doesn't understand.
"You have a connection to what happened to me, and you won't tell me?" Her words are whispered and all the more powerful for it. But Severus won't back down now.
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
Severus leans forward in his seat, elbows on the table. "Will knowing make you remember?"
There is silence after that, the storm raging inside Granger reverberating through Severus.
Severus lets it. No need to chase a panicking animal. Backed into a corner it'll just hurt you more. Instead he just sits there, waiting, waiting, patient even though he doesn't feel any patience, high-strung despite himself. She'll come around. She'll come around.
And indeed she does. Suddenly there's no storm anymore, just the eerie quiet that follows, when you inspect the damage done.
In their case, the damage was done before, a destruction so thorough leaving nothing in its wake to damage again. There are only the pieces of a life shattered that need putting together.
Severus comes to a conclusion. He knows Gryffindors; even shattered to pieces their core is still there, protected, undamageable; and while this version of Hermione Granger is quite different from the way he knew her to be, she won't stop seeking him out. So he takes the logical stop and meets her half-way, on his terms as much as hers, leaving no chance at being overpowered again.
When they kiss it has nothing of the brutality from before. It's the careful exploration of two people walking on ground covered with broken glass, looking for the sharp edges that'll make you bleed and the safe ground where they can meet without shattering anything else.
Who knows, maybe they will manage to repair some of the damage. It's been heard of before.
Maybe they will shatter again, but does that even matter, as patched up as they are?
*~*~*
Maybe kissing Granger - "Hermione," she whispers - is a bad idea, but for the life of him he can't seem to stop. Severus' romances have never ended well - if they ever ended anywhere at all - and this, this is fucked up and wrong and all kinds of forbidden. She doesn't remember him as much as he does remember her. Still he can't push her away.
All that is forgotten when she leads him upstairs, to the bed in the corner of his room. By pure miracle they land on the bed without grave injury, Severus following her as if they were moth and flame.
Even in the dark Severus can still see her.
So maybe after all, they are two of a kind.
Hermione climbs on top of Severus, her mouth barely breaking the connection to his. Her groin is tightly pressed to his hard cock, and even through the layers of clothing separating them Severus can already feel her need. She rocks into him. Severus bites back the moan that's trying to escape his throat even as he arches back into her, still trying to maintain a semblance of control when the battle is long over. He accepts defeat with grace.
There is nothing graceful about the way Hermione biteslickssucks her way down his neck, the way her hands tear at his clothes with urgency. There is heat in every movement and heat in every touch. It spreads through Severus' body; his cock is painfully hard by the time her mouth reaches his collarbone. His hands find her hips of their own accord, one hand slipping beneath her shirt while the other sneaks to the hem of her trousers. Touch is all there is, touch where there can be no sight, and Severus finally moans when she squirms above him, his exploring fingers tickling her.
Her own hands, meanwhile, are busy unbuttoning his shirt, her mouth following the skin that's revealed inch by quick inch. Her tongue takes a detour sideways; Severus shivers in anticipation. Her teeth close around a nipple, bitinglickingsucking, and Severus bucks up. He seeks friction and finds it, his task momentarily forgotten as the memory of firebloodred flashes through his mind. Then she continues her way down, toward his bellybutton, and breathing heavily Severus resumes his own exploration. Hermione makes needy sounds above him, and he almost chuckles as he realises the absurdness of the situation. Then her hands are laying him free and start working on his trousers, and rationality is abandoned in favour of the moment.
Severus rolls them over. Progress doesn't go quickly enough. The force of his arousal is too much, and he wants to be buried in her when he's coming. Finesse can be left for later (he's thinking of later?); all that counts now is that they take the edge off. He shrugs out of his shirt, helps her out of hers; takes a moment to caress her sides and admires the body left at his feet. Then he slides down her body, his mouth leaving a wet trail in its wake, and sets to open the buttons of her trousers. The first pops open, the second, the third; he tugs, and her trousers and panties slide down her legs until she can kick them off her feet. Where they land Severus can't tell because Hermione's fingers are already threaded in his hair in an obvious demand for him to come up. He has other plans.
His cock will have to wait a little while longer. Sacrifices of war, and all that.
He lets his hands run up the length of her legs, spreads her thighs a little. Hermione complies, but not without protest. "Up," she growls at him, as if she thinks he would pass up on a chance of tasting her.
"Not yet," he answers her, a finger dipping into her folds and running up to her clit. Even this little touch has an instant effect on her. "God," she whispers, moans for him; and Severus wonders, when was the last time she has been touched like this? "More."
She may be different, but she's still a bossy bitch when it comes right down to it. Luckily Severus is in a mood to serve her questionpleademand. He breathes out, "Yes" riding the air, then he lowers his head and licks the way his finger took before. Her reaction is instantaneous, her thighs threatening to lock him in a dangerous embrace. But Severus' reflexes are quick, and his hands spread her more, hold her down. He sucks at her clit, drinks her arousal in; and the sounds she makes are so delicious, music to his ears, that his arousal bursts free. He needs her, now. He crawls up her body the moment she chokes out "Severus", and suddenly the thought that she ever belonged to another man bothers him. Her mind has forgotten, but he will make sure her body follows.
"Mine," he growls as he positions himself at her entrance, and "Mine" as he pushes forward; "Mine" when he is sheathed inside her, wetwarmtight surrounding him. Her breath hitches when he starts moving, unwilling and unable to give her but a second to adjust. He draws back until he's almost all the way out, then slams back in with all the strength he can muster. Mine resounds in every slap of skin on skin, the sounds of two overheated bodies dancing the oldest dance of all. Hermione arches underneath him, her blunt fingernails scratching at his back in an attempt to meet his thrusts, but he doesn't want her help; wants her at his mercy. With a snarl, he grabs her arms and crosses them over her head. She tries to fight it, but he knows how and where to use his strength. Physical intimacy may not be his forte, but physical domination he knows how to do. His grip on her wrists is powerful and there will be bruises in the morning, but he doesn't care. Mine.
The waves of pleasure mount as he drives into her. Hermione writhes underneath him, desperate for touch, but he wants her to come untouched. His mouth finds its way to her throat, sucking at her skin to form another mark for all the world to see. Mine.
The world starts crumbling around them, bit by bit, the ceiling, the walls; and then, eventually, the floor gives underneath them and they are swept away. The last thing Severus hears is a whisper of Yours before his body tenses and he comes deep inside her.
He slumps down on top of her, both of them breathing heavily. It's a while until Severus can move, but he's unconcerned about it. She would have said something. As soon as he lies beside her she curls into his side. The sensation affects him more than it should, but there's a warm glow inside of him that lets him ignore his uneasiness for the moment.
"Tired," she mumbles. The trust she shows him is unjustified, he knows it with perfect clarity. It won't take long until she sees it too.
"Sleep," he murmurs back nonetheless, unable to help himself.
For him, sleep is a long way away that night. Instead, when her breathing evens out, Severus keeps feeling her out. Their connection is undeniable, and Severus can't help but acknowledge that this is what Magic wants for him; wants from him.
This is penance. This is his chance at salvation.
*~*~*
When Severus wakes, the blood loss and the poison have taken their toll. He's weak and disoriented.
He tries stumbling to his feet but they won't carry him, giving way underneath him. He topples back down on the floor, once, twice. His blood is everywhere, a slippery dark patch on a darker floor; he lies in it, shaking, weeping. He passes out again.
The next time he wakes it's the crack of dawn. Severus feels sick to his stomach, the muscles there working to hold the sorry remnants of his last meal down. He barely manages to roll around before he's hurling up all over himself.
The almost dried blood and the vomit mix, and it's then that Severus realises what a mess he's made. When he's done Severus finally has enough incentive to make it to his feet before he manages to lie in the disgusting mixture of fluids, even though he feels dizzy and the world goes black around him. He doesn't crash back down this time, just swerves a little before he can stabilise himself, one hand tightly holding on the doorframe.
He doesn't have his wand anymore. He wonders briefly where it's gotten to, but in this darkest of lights he won't find it and he doesn't have the time to wait out daylight.
He walks.
Or rather, he stumbles out of the Shrieking Shack, making his way down to Hogsmeade with the intention of hiding nearby, getting back some strength; stealing what he needs to survive on his own. He becomes a shadow among shadows, like maybe he is an animal and not Severus Snape on flight. Two Aurors walk by nearby. Severus has a chance to listen in on their account of what happened that night. The glorious tale of Harry Potter, the Chosen One. That's when he knows his job is finally finished. Lily's son is safe. Smiling to himself he turns away.
There's a piece of wood lying on his path. Severus trips.
Swearing he goes down, but it's too late; the Aurors are closing in on him, still alert to any Death Eater activities. Severus can barely roll out of the way of their joined Stupefy. He turns around, using the darkness as his shield. They'll never know where he came from.
There's the sound of other footsteps running up to where the Aurors are sending hexes and curses into the trees. “Wait,” the voice shouts, and Severus recognises it instantly as belonging to a certain friend of Harry Potter's. But he doesn't have time for consideration, doesn't have time to hear what she's got to say. Avada Kedavra is already on his lips, protecting his own back at all costs.
Wandless magic is a tricky thing. Directing Magic with words and nothing else, not channelling it with wood, can affect precision. The moment he casts the Unforgivable at one Auror, the other topples down with him. Severus turns to run.
What he doesn't know is that when he kills two Aurors with one curse, the memory of a bushy-haired witch goes down with their souls.
FIN