Of Passions Unsurpassed

Chapter 20: Of Passions Unsurpassed

Apparating into Hogsmeade, Hermione barely registered the return of flawless blue skies and crisp spring air. The mistakes she'd made in trying to handle Lucius gnawed at her. Her mind refused to relinquish the afternoon's events, berating her foolishness one minute and mocking her naïveté the next. Rather than listen to the constant censure from her inner know-it-all, she opted for analysis, safe and familiar. Each misstep was systematically examined as she trudged along the well-worn path to Hogwarts.

This is what comes from fourteen years of relative safety, she thought. Time had weakened her defences and dulled her reactions. She shook her head and dismissed the excuse as too simple and far too convenient. More than the passing seasons were to blame for her lapse of judgement.

Descending into the dungeons, she entered the living quarters and attempted to organise her thoughts. The sight of Snape lounging on the sofa provided a welcome distraction. A small book rested in his lap whilst his long legs stretched out before him, feet propped upon the table. He drank wine of such deep red colour it was nearly black, like midnight in a glass.

Her heart clenched. Ron's warning evaporated, and her mind pressed a heavy blanket over the incident with Lucius, smothering unpleasant memories. Any lingering sense of unease would undoubtedly fade the moment she felt Snape's arms around her. She resolved to join him on the sofa as soon as she'd cured her headache.

"Did you enjoy your trip?" he asked while sliding thin reading glasses from his nose.

The inquiry surprised her, as she imagined he had little interest in shopping and even less tolerance for babies.

She hesitated, then nodded. "I had a pleasant time with Luna," she said and walked through her bedroom to find an appropriate potion. "Until her father-in-law arrived, at least," she added, her head stuck inside a bathroom cupboard.

The contents of each shelf were thoroughly examined for the precious elixir, but her quest proved unsuccessful. Frustration grew faster than the throbbing in her head. She opened drawers with a vengeance and slammed them shut when the remedy remained elusive.

"Lucius joined you." His statement came from the doorway, and she jumped at his sudden proximity, her nerves still raw. "What did he want?" he asked.

Moving to the cupboard beneath the basin, she muttered, "What he always wants: me." The declaration held more than one meaning now, and her headache intensified. "He sent Luna off on some rubbish about the twins. Then he ... he said there was something he wanted to show me."

Abandoning the search, she stood and gingerly massaged her forehead. "Do you have any headache tonic?" she asked. For the first time, she noticed his stiff posture.

He ignored her question. "Naturally, your superior intelligence prevented you from leaving with him."

Her gaze crept away as she chewed her lip, mumbling, "One would have thought."

Silence ensued until his angry sigh tore it apart and demanded her gaze. "Where did he take you?"

"Arglist," she admitted after a brief pause.

A muscle near his temple jumped. "Are you ... unharmed?"

"I'm fine."

His eyes closed for a moment, and he released his breath as if he'd been holding it. Then he grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "What the devil were you thinking?"

"Don't shout at me...I have a headache."

"You're lucky that's all you have, you impetuous creature." His hands slid down her arms before falling to his sides. He seemed to be wrestling with whether or not to shake her again.

Visions of snuggling on the sofa fled, leaving a chasm that quickly filled with indignation. She had hoped for a modicum of approval. At the very least, she felt she deserved some sympathy. Hypocrisy niggled at the fringes of her awareness, but she disregarded it, temper flaring in the wake of his anger.

"You were the one who said I was giving him too much power by feeling threatened."

"Do not twist my words to justify your lack of prudence! Overreacting to a dinner invitation is entirely different to meeting privately with Lucius...at Arglist, of all places."

Rather than admit he was right, she strode past him and flung her cloak upon her bed with more force than necessary. She didn't realise he had followed her into the room until he spoke, very close behind her.

"Given the conditions under which you departed your laboratory, I'm surprised you'd be willing to return."

"Well, it's not as if I knew we were going to Arglist when we left the restaurant." She regretted the statement the instant she uttered it and winced at his sharp intake of breath.

"You had no concept of where you were going." Each word fell from his mouth like a stone, heavy with accusation. "And how did you travel to Arglist?" he asked, though she was certain he already knew the answer.

She cleared her throat and turned. "Side-Along."

Rage swirled over his face, colouring his cheeks, turning his eyes to black ice. Vicelike fingers gripped her arms again. He shook her once before tearing his hands away as if her skin had scorched him. His hard stare was impossible to meet, so she dropped her gaze and watched his hands ball into tight fists. The silence grew, swelling and festering until it was too large to ignore. When she lifted her eyes at last, it was only to watch him storm from the room, slamming her door with enough force to rattle the fixtures.

She closed her eyes as impotent anger surged through her limbs, burning her fingertips. Her breath expelled in a loud, irritated sigh. How dare he scold her? Her actions were far less hazardous than any mission he'd undertaken for the Order. She was hardly an innocent ingénue or a hapless, green novice...she'd fought in a war, for Merlin's sake.

When her door flew open a moment later, she whirled on the spot, ready to battle him blow for blow. Her determination was somewhat squashed by the phial of headache tonic he thrust at her. Judging by his expression, it was meant to ensure a fair fight rather than be taken as a peace offering. She swallowed two large mouthfuls and waited for the war to resume.

Once the pain had abated, she decided to change tactics and appeal to his sense of reason. But rational arguments were difficult to find and even harder to sell. She had no choice but to concede the folly of her decisions.

"I will admit leaving with Lucius was a bit ... risky," she said.

He interrupted with a snort of disgust.

"I assumed he'd take me to Arglist...it was the only logical destination," she said. "My safety was never in jeopardy. He needs something from me."

"I fail to see how his needs translate to a guarantee of your safety."

"Harming me would defeat his purpose. If he hurts me, he'll never get what he wants."

His expression darkened. "That's a dangerous delusion. Surely you realise Lucius has ways of hurting you specifically to get what he wants?"

She swallowed hard, reluctant to consider the methods Lucius would employ if desperate. The memory of his cruel lips on her face was chilling enough. She wondered how Snape would react to him propositioning her and swallowed again. His anger seemed to be growing rather than diminishing, convincing her to remain silent on that aspect of her afternoon. She had no wish for a repeat of Christmas Eve, when jealousy had clouded his judgement. One battle at a time.

"I know what he's capable of, Severus. But I'm not completely helpless, either. Surely you realise I can take care of myself...I've been doing so for the past twenty years."

"If this is any indication of your decision-making abilities, it's a wonder you're still alive."

"It wasn't that long ago you were commending me for defeating Voldemort. How fickle your praise is!"

"Are you suggesting you would have agreed to Side-Along Apparition with the Dark Lord?"

"Of course not, but..."

"Of course not, full stop!"

"Don't lecture me, Severus!" Frustration forced her voice to rise, though she barely realised she was shouting. "I'm not a child!"

"Obviously not...a child would have exercised more caution!"

"I exercised caution," she said through clenched teeth. "I had my wand ready the entire time." Almost.

He stalked closer, ostensibly repositioning himself in case she required further shaking. "Have you learnt nothing from your past dealings with Lucius?"

"I have! That's why I needed to prove he could no longer intimidate me."

"There are better ways!"

"I had to confront him about Brukowski's death."

"At what price?" he yelled.

"It would have been worth it, had he confessed!"

"That doesn't matter anymore! You could have ruined everything!"

Her mouth opened to argue, but she snapped it shut, confused. Puzzling her more than his words was the expression of pure shock on his face. The look did not linger, fleeing the instant he squared his shoulders.

"What does that mean?" she asked. "What could I have ruined?"

"Nothing ... I misspoke," he said and turned away. Long fingers swept through silky black hair. He rolled his head in broad circles, stretching the muscles in his neck and shoulders before staring at the ceiling.

His refusal to answer only deepened her unease. Doubt crashed into her mind like a tidal wave, a great torrent of questions flooding her brain and making her dizzy. The small article she'd found tucked inside his book...why hadn't he ever mentioned it? The mysterious nights spent outside the castle...where did he go and with whom did he meet? The insidious hints Lucius had dropped...what had he been implying?

"Severus?" she asked, refusing to continue until he turned and met her eyes. "Are you involved with something at Arglist?" She was pleased when her voice did not falter. "Is that what I might have ruined?"

Dark eyes narrowed. For a moment, they held such loathing he seemed capable of anything. Then he turned away again. Slowly shaking his head, he brought his hands to his hips, his stance defiant. "For a bright woman, you can be incredibly thick sometimes."

She folded her arms across her chest, her jaw set. "And what exactly am I missing, O Wise One?" she asked.

His arms lifted from his hips and crossed, a perfect mirror of her posture. He turned back and said, "You're an insolent girl, and I don't know why I waste my time on you."

She hadn't thought her day could get any worse, but she'd obviously been too optimistic.

He sighed. "For reasons beyond my comprehension, I have begun to care deeply about your welfare. About ... you." It was hard to tell which part of his confession disturbed him more...the fact he harboured serious feelings for her, or the fact he was being forced to voice them.

Words eluded her. If his declaration hadn't been delivered with such reluctance, the sentiment might have actually cheered her.

"When you conduct yourself with so little regard for your safety, it forces me to question the wisdom of my involvement," he said.

"Is this your way of saying you were worried about me?" she asked.

"Why else would I be so angry?"

Her gaze lowered to his arms, still folded across his chest. She had assumed his anger was a criticism of her competence, not his personal, defensive reaction. Remorse rolled into her mind like a heavy fog, slithering around her doubts until even the questions that had plagued her earlier began to feel like paranoia. She dropped her arms and accepted his concern. Considering all that had happened, she supposed his fears were not entirely unfounded.

Before she could form a reply, he spoke again. "I have a vested interest in your presence, in keeping you here with me. You've insinuated yourself into my life now."

Her laugh was hollow, devoid of humour. "You make it sound rather unpleasant. Do you feel I seduced you against your will?"

"No, of course not," he said, brows furrowed. "But we've progressed very far, very fast. I find it disconcerting at times. I never imagined you'd become more important to me than...."

She held her breath, waiting.

He seemed surprised and retreated at once, shifting his weight to his heels. The distance was insignificant, yet he found a way to build a wall in the slight space.

Donning his composure like armour, he straightened and peered down at her. "You've become important to me," he said. "This escapade notwithstanding, I happen to enjoy our current circumstances. And I have no desire to see that...us...ruined."

"I see," she said. It was, perhaps, the most inelegant revelation she'd ever heard. And considering the time she'd spent with Ron, such an achievement was impressive.

He frowned again, fingers returning to rake deep valleys through his hair. She stilled her tongue and ignored the analysis her mind begged to offer.

"You know how selfish I am," he said. "You've seen it...experienced it...more than most."

"Okay."

"And you're willing to accept this?"

"I'm willing to accept it's unlikely to change," she said with a shrug. They were bound to disagree on whether his actions were always selfish.

"Right. Then you must also be willing to accept responsibility when you take foolish risks and endanger something so dear to me."

The delivery still lacked finesse, but she didn't mind as much. "All right," she agreed with a nod.

He blinked and seemed surprised by her capitulation, suspicious of her ready agreement. But her case had lacked merit from the beginning, making it somewhat easier to abandon. If he could set aside his stubborn nature, so could she. It was plain to see how disturbed he'd been by her trip to Arglist. Confessing the reason for his distress had to have cost him dearly.

"I didn't realise you felt this way," she said.

His lips pushed into a thin line. "Now that you know, I trust you will refrain from courting disaster again?"

"Yes, Professor," she intoned. His raised eyebrow made her smile, but her humour didn't last. "You needn't worry...I have every intention of staying as far from Lucius as possible." She pressed her hands against her stomach as a pair of sinister grey eyes haunted her memory. "He's not just evil, Severus. I think he's mad."

He drew her into his arms. For a moment, he clutched her tightly, the ferocity of his embrace just as intense as his earlier anger. Then he relaxed and his hand caressed her back. The tenderness was almost her undoing. She fought the urge to break down, to let his strength chase away all the ugliness. Delayed shock slammed into her, a powerful cocktail that mixed with relief over having escaped Arglist...and Lucius...unscathed. She shook her head, denying the fear, refusing the panic. The bastard deserved neither.

Determination renewed, she cleared her mind and slid her hands behind Snape's neck. His head dipped forward instantly. She found his mouth and plunged her tongue inside. The taste of wine still clung to his lips, and she drank him in, greedy for more. His arms tightened, melding their bodies together. It was all the encouragement she needed to urge him across her room. When they reached her bed, she pushed him onto his back and stood with her hands on her hips.

"If I had been trying to seduce you, I believe this is how it might have looked."

Lifting the sides of her skirt, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her knickers and slid them down. Satisfied with the brief glimpse of thigh, she let him stare down her blouse while she bent forward to guide the satin from her ankles. Her skills at opening his many buttons had been honed, and she quickly divested him of clothes. She climbed onto the bed and straddled him. Her knees squeezed his waist, and she hovered over him, waiting, refusing the contact of heat to heat. His hands clawed their way beneath her skirt and gripped her thighs. She pinched her knees tighter when he tried to pull her down, her legs trembling with effort.

"Patience," she said in warning.

She took her time with the buttons on her blouse, enjoying his expression as he watched her slow, deliberate progress. He muttered an oath and moved his hands higher, deft fingers teasing, promising pleasure, then retreating. She slid her body over his and mimicked his pattern of offering and denying, advancing only to retreat. His growl of frustration pleased her more than it should have. Victory became a foreign concept when his fingers exacted revenge, and he stroked her faster. She shifted her position and plunged onto him with sudden fierceness. The pace was frantic and wild, too desperate to maintain. She rode him through her crest and beyond. When his fingers dug into her hips, she threw her head back and smiled. A deep groan announced his final surrender, and she claimed each tremor of his tense shudder as her personal spoils.

Although a pillow would have been softer, she collapsed onto his chest instead. Slowly, the world stopped spinning, and she remembered how to breathe.

"Need to improve my seduction technique," she mumbled after several minutes. "Must last longer next time."

"I have no complaints with the current method."

Straightening her legs, she shifted halfway off his chest. Within seconds, her eyelids became so heavy she had no choice but to close them.

He draped his arm across her shoulder and traced lazy circles on her back. "Although," he said, "the opportunity to test further refinements sounds promising."

His heartbeat drummed an enchanted lullaby against her ear. "Mmmph," she said when the witty retort in her head floundered before it reached her lips. Sleep claimed her before she could attempt the words again.

She sprinted along the familiar hallways of Hogwarts as the battle raged. Even through the dodging of spells and Death Eaters, there was a sense of coming home, of relief for being done with that damned tent. She had no sense of how the battle would end...who would win or lose, who would live or die. But no matter the outcome, she knew today meant the end. Either peace would return, or her life would be sacrificed in its pursuit. She was ready for either scenario.

She fought the pull of gravity, the sharp sting of betrayal. Her arms flailed madly as she descended into darkness, desperate for something to break her fall.

Thrashing beneath the bedcovers, she awoke with a start, drenched in sweat. Shapes materialised in the dim light as she sat upright. A scream formed in her throat when her coat rack pretended to be an intruder, but it died as reality slowly penetrated her dream-soaked mind. She listened to her breaths wheezing through her lungs, echoing in the quiet bedroom.

"What's wrong?" asked Snape beside her.

She whipped around and glared at him, her fingers itching for her wand. Bitterness filled her mouth at the memory of his betrayal. She stiffened when he reached for her, but he merely caressed her arm while indulging in a large yawn. She drew a deep breath and shook her head.

"Bad dream," she answered at last. Her voice felt raw, as if she'd shouted in her sleep.

"Tell me."

"No, it's alright. It seems ridiculous now, anyway." Foolish. She shivered.

His fingers closed around her arm, and he pulled her into his embrace. He stroked the hair above her ear, much like her mother had done countless times when she was a child. Long after he'd pressed soft kisses to her forehead, his lips remained against her temple.

"It was only a dream," he whispered.

She nuzzled closer and believed him.

Karelia and Little_Beloved are the dearest betas in the fandom, and lettybird lets me know when I've taken too many liberties with the Queen's English. Thank you, ladies...you're the best!