About Time

About Time

Disclaimer: It's about time Ms Rowling took them all back.

Severus could hardly believe she had smiled. Her eyelids were still puffy, her lip swollen, and she appeared to be unconscious, but with that small twitch of the lips, he knew she was awake and could hear him. His voice thickened with emotion.

Hope blossomed; she was recovering.

Then, reality intruded. When she opened her eyes, she would see that he was not the youth she had just left, but the older ex-professor who had been the bane of her life. His sense of relief faltered. If only he had known when she was at school, he might have treated her differently. No, he wouldn't have. It would have been too out of character and a little bizarre, not to mention verging on paedophilia.

She would recover, open her eyes, and leave as soon as her battered limbs could carry her out of the house. He realised the fact, and the small blossom of hope withered. He squeezed her hand, relishing the contact, aware his time with her would be limited.

*

Hermione felt the slight tremor in his fingers as he held her hand. Recognising the subtle sign of anxiety, she wanted to reassure him.

"Severus?" Her throat and lips hurt, and she could not put any volume into the words. "Are you all right?"

His snort close to her ear ruffled her hair, and she reached blindly in the direction of the sound.

Catching her questing hand, he arrested its momentum before drawing her fingers to his lips. His kiss on her fingertip was feather-light.

Gently, she ran the tip of her finger along his lip, feeling the softness of his breath as he sighed. As she strayed off the line of his mouth and over his stubbled cheek, he caught hold of her hand again.

"I can't see you, Severus. Let me touch you."

"No."

His reply was firm as he pulled away. She heard him rise and stride rapidly from the room.

*

Snape stamped down the stairs to the kitchen and threw himself onto a rickety chair. She mustn't touch him. If she did, she would immediately know his age and know he was not the youth she had just left. The deep lines of his face were testament to a difficult life. She wouldn't want him as he was now, nor should she. A stunning witch such as Charmaine deserved someone better.

This was all wrong. He was her professor, but she had been his teacher. He taught her Potions because she had fostered his love of the subject as a student. He was her elder, except most recently for her he had been the younger one. It was too complicated. Now, he understood why she could never explain the complexity of the situation to his satisfaction. He grimaced at the thought of his brash, youthful demands for explanations.

She had brought him such joy as a young man, teaching him how to fly, befriending him, and caring for him, and he had repaid her by allowing Voldemort to beat her almost to death. At his trial there had been no acknowledgement of her pivotal role in ensuring he had joined the Order of the Phoenix. How must she have felt about that? He shifted in his chair, feeling discomfited by the conflicting thoughts.

But, no, at the time of his trial, her younger self had not known his younger self.

He ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to disentangle the complexities that her time travel had created. What confused him most was her apparent care for him. The least he could do in return for her regard was to provide his protection. He could give her that now. Last time, he had failed badly, but now he could care for her until she was well enough to leave. Keeping her at arm's length would be part of that protection.

A loud crash from upstairs startled him from his reverie.

*

Snape slammed open the door and raced over to the bed, only to find it empty. He spotted her, lying on the floor on the other side of the bed, the blankets still half-twisted around her. Fluid puddled on the floor around Hermione's head.

She groaned and touched her scalp tentatively.

"What do you think you are doing, woman?"

"You left me. I was just coming to find you."

Severus tutted as he crouched beside her.

"Let me look," he said, taking her hand away from her head. "No damage done. You knocked over the water jug as you fell."

Looping her arm around his neck, he lifted her off the floor.

"Get back to bed and stay there, you troublesome wench."

"You won't leave me, will you?"

The long pause which followed her question caused a flare of anxiety in her gut.

"No, I'll always be here. It is my house, after all."

She lifted a hand searching for his face. This time, with both of his arms cradling her, he was unable to stop her. He hissed, turning his head away from her touch. Dumping her unceremoniously back on the bed, he stepped back.

"Don't touch me."

"Severus?"

"I'll care for you as long as you need me. It's the least I can do." He moved further away as he spoke.

"I can't open my eyes properly, so I can't see you, but I can hear you shuffling away. Don't you dare leave me, Severus Snape."

"I'm not a coward, but I'm not the man you think you know. Don't presume to tell me what to do, you insolent witch."

Hermione giggled.

"Do not mock me."

"Oh, Severus, it's so good to hear your normal tone of voice."

He huffed and headed for the door. "You are not to get out of bed unassisted until I can trust you to walk without falling over and damaging my belongings."

"I wouldn't dare damage your chattels."

It was a good thing she couldn't see his twitch of a smile. "I'm going to prepare a meal. May I leave your presence in order to complete my task?"

Peals of laughter followed him down the stairs, and, he had to admit, he liked the sound as it filled the usually quiet house.

*

She ate the meal he fed her then drifted off.

Severus watched over her for a long time after she fell asleep. Rest relaxed the pinched, weary appearance of her face, enhancing her natural beauty. Her eyelids were still swollen, but improving. She was going to have outstanding black eyes. He ran a thumb across her cheek bone.

A small swell of bruising remained at the corner of her lip. He leaned forward and kissed it gently. Tingling magic flitted across the contact point.

A blaze of white heat erupted through Snape's body, and he collapsed forwards across the bed.

*

Hermione shifted in her sleep, feeling the comfortable weight of Snape's arm across her stomach. As she stirred, her hand ran over his silky hair where it spread across the bedcovers next to her. She twirled a lock around her fingers.

Her other hand ran lightly up over the back of his then further up over his forearm. Tracing the outline of his Dark Mark, she reached the small starburst of his Blaze. Of its own volition, her thumb pressed against the silver mark.

Mine.

The thought floated through her head as she drifted back to sleep.

*

Severus groaned as he regained consciousness. He tried to sit up from where he was slumped across the bed, but found himself entangled in the arms of the slumbering witch. Carefully, he peeled her fingers off his arm then started to untangle the other hand from his hair. A sense of loss crept over him as he pulled away from her.

A pitiful whimper stopped him in his tracks, and her hands scrabbled blindly for him.

"Hush. You're all right. I'll look after you," he murmured, stroking sweat-soaked hair from her too-hot forehead.

"Don't leave me, Severus."

"I'm right here."

"Hold me."

Severus hesitated. She was feverish and needed reassurance. It was dark, so she wouldn't be able to tell how old he was. What harm could it do?

Catching hold of her fidgeting fingers, he drew them close to his lips. He longed to kiss each one.

"Here I am."

The breath of his whisper ghosted over her fingertips as he cast a Cooling Charm. She sighed and relaxed. Her other hand snuck round to the nape of his neck, fingers splaying out over the back of his skull.

"Come closer." Light pressure urged his head closer to hers until all that separated them was the width of her fingers, still pressed gently to his lips.

She inhaled deeply. "You smell so good, Severus," she murmured, her lips so close to his he could feel their movement. "So... right."

"Charmaine."

His lips brushed her fingertips as he spoke her name.

Softly, her fingers traced the outline of his lips then sidled across to his jawline. Her other hand smoothed gentle circles on the back of his scalp. Licking her dry lips, she accidentally touched his lip with the very tip of her tongue.

She gasped. Her rapid intake of breath seemed to pull him towards her. He leaned in closer to kiss her, a soft reassuring kiss.

Magic hummed between them. His lips tingled at the contact, enticing him. Tenderly, his hand cupped the back of her head, comforting her, drawing her closer to him, and deepening the kiss.

The fingers which had been on his jaw tracked downwards. Following down over the sinews of his neck, they bumped erratically over the knots and scars of his snakebite. Her mouth broke contact with his as it opened with surprise.

"Oh!"

Severus froze, every muscle rigid with fear of rejection. This was the end, he realised.

A/N: Thanks again, Sunny33.