Eight for a Wish

Chapter 9: Eight for a Wish

Hermione was unaware of leaning back against the wall of the dark alcove, unaware of her knees folding as she sunk to the cold stone ground of the dungeon. Her body shook as she drew her legs to her chest, encircling them with her arms. Hot tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she refused to cry and buried her face in her skirt instead. After a moment, she realised she could smell the evidence of her arousal, and her stomach knotted. Raising her head, her eyes rested on the statue of the boar, the only witness to her recent encounter with Snape. Although she was rarely prone to flights of fancy, she would almost swear the stone eyes were laughing at her, and the lips of the beast were curled into a mocking sneer beneath the razor-sharp tusks.

She got up unsteadily, stumbling out of the alcove and suddenly desperate for a scalding hot shower, eager to wash away the humiliation of having Snape reject her so cruelly. She walked halfway down the hallway and then paused. The only way to get to her living quarters was through the Potions office, and thus, through the Potions classroom. Her hands shook as she neared the door. Even through the heavy wood, she could hear Snape's strong voice barking at the class.

Cursing her own weakness, she turned away and departed the dungeons without any notion of a destination. The thought of slinking past a roomful of curious students was less appealing right now than wrestling a Blast-Ended Skrewt. Her clarity of mind extended only as far as her certainty that she was not ready to face him yet, not without getting some things straightened out in her own mind first.

How could I have been so stupid? she thought, shaking her head in frustration. Hermione ascended the long staircases from the dungeons and marched past the Great Hall, the force of her stride matching her tumultuous feelings. Her thoughts were jumbled, knocking around inside her brain as random emotions slammed into her. There was plenty of anger, for her foolish naïveté and for Snape's decidedly unorthodox method of retaliation. There was the pain of rejection as well, but Hermione determinedly pushed that thought from her mind. Her ego could wait.

She focused instead on the surprise she felt over her body's volatile response to his touch. There was no longer any point in refusing to admit her attraction to him. In retrospect, it seemed perfectly clear that much of the mounting tension in recent weeks had been caused by her denial. Clear, but still shocking. She shook her head again as she pondered their recent encounter. She'd just thrown herself at him, convinced she wanted him more than anything else, and what had he done?

Her face flushed when she recalled exactly what he'd just done, and how eagerly she had responded. She had never behaved so promiscuously before, and her embarrassment intensified with each step as she roamed the halls of the castle. The sound of her own voice, proclaiming her desires and begging him for more, repeated through her brain.

A part of her knew and accepted the fact that she'd never behaved this way because she'd never before desired a man so intensely. Never in her life had she felt such an overwhelming lust for someone; never had she been driven to act so unabashedly, without any thought to time, or place, or circumstance. A fresh wave of mortification swept over her when she thought about what could have happened if they'd been seen.

Good lord! she thought, stopping dead in her tracks in the middle of the snowy courtyard. There had been a classroom full of children no more than a hundred metres away, yet that hadn't even slightly deterred her from trying to rip his clothes off. True, they'd been in a dark alcove at the end of the hallway, but still...it had been a damn good thing Snape had stopped when he did. She certainly wouldn't have been able to.

A sharp stab of remorse entered her mind as she remembered how easily he had pulled away from her, how she had stood there clutching him long after he had made his point. She knew his body had responded to hers: she had felt the physical evidence of his arousal. But his desire had stopped at his body...he'd easily separated it from his mind. She blinked fast to keep her tears from falling.

After what felt like hours of wandering the castle, she looked up and was only mildly surprised to find herself at the base of the North Tower, standing beneath the trapdoor to the Divination classroom. She listened for a moment to see if Draco was teaching a lesson, knocking softly when silence greeted her.

"Enter," came a voice from within.

She climbed the ladder and stood at the entrance to the room, relieved, as always, by the many changes Draco had made since they'd been students. Gone were the elaborate scarves and heavy incense, as well as the oppressively stifling fire and atmosphere. There was an open, welcoming feel to the round classroom now. The walls were decorated with complex astrology charts and elaborate graphs, and she suspected the stunning oil paintings had come directly from the Malfoy art collection.

"Hello!" Draco smiled from behind his desk on the far side of the room. "I haven't seen much of you lately." The snow had stopped falling outside, and blinding late-afternoon sunlight streamed in through the windows behind him, illuminating his pale hair. She frowned at the ethereal glow haloing his features: the man was certainly no angel. Appearances could be deceptive.

"Am I interrupting you?" she asked.

"Not at all," he assured her. "You know, I've been meaning to talk to Severus ... It's not very sporting of him to keep you to himself."

"Oh," she replied faintly. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to come here. Snape and Draco were friends, after all...even if the dark-robed, black-hearted man she'd left in the caverns of the castle's underbelly did seem the antithesis of the one before her. And although she'd become close to Draco over the past three years, they had never discussed anything truly intimate. She thought about talking to Neville, instead, but the idea of explaining her growing attraction was one she felt certain Neville would never understand.

"So, Granger ... What brings you from the depths of the dungeons to the lofty heights of Divination today?" he asked with a smile, leaving his sun-dappled chair and coming around his desk to approach her.

She still hovered on the threshold, unsure whether she should leave or stay. Draco always gave such excellent advice, but the idea of revealing the tortuous thoughts in her head was rather daunting.

She had to decide quickly...he had almost reached her. "I should go," she mumbled and turned away.

"Don't go," he said, suddenly serious and obviously sensing her distress. He placed a hand on her shoulder to turn her back around while saying, "What's wrong? Are you and Severus fighting over the ..."

Whatever crack he was about to make died on his lips when he saw her face up close. Judging from his expression, she must look pretty bad. Concern was etched all over his pale features, and her eyes stung once more. He held open his arms and in a very fatherly voice said, "Come here."

She wasn't sure what surprised her more: her complete lack of hesitation in grabbing onto him or the uncontrollable sobs that soon spilled forth. Embarrassment over Snape's words mingled with the familiar frustration of every failed relationship she'd ever had with a man. Feeling like a child, she listened to his calm voice as he gently patted her back and offered soft, encouraging words of comfort. She stayed in the safe cocoon of his arms for quite some time, the flood eventually settling down into fast tears. After a few more minutes, the tears had turned into sniffles, and then finally those had stopped, too. Certain that her body could no longer manufacture tears even if she tried, she broke away and wiped her face with shaking hands.

She peered at Draco and with a watery laugh said, "I'll wager you weren't expecting that!"

He merely looked relieved. He smiled at her kindly and said, "Times change, Hermione."

She nodded, then looked at the puddle on his shoulder with despair. "I ruined your robes...I'm so sorry!"

"There are more important things than clean robes," he said, sounding very unlike the preening youth she'd known and confirming his statement about how much can change with the passage of time. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Not really," she told him. "But I think I need to."

"Come and sit," he suggested, leading her into the room. "I'm guessing you and Severus had a fight?" he asked, prompting her to begin.

"Yes."

"What about?"

"Nothing, really," she said with a sigh. "Teaching ... House points."

"Aha! So that's what happened to the House hourglasses today," he said.

Their sparring must have resulted in quite a show down in the Great Hall. "Yes, that might have been us."

"Tell me what happened," he said and stopped by a group of chairs near his desk.

She couldn't bring herself to sit. "I'm not sure. One minute we were fighting, and then everything seemed to change. And he ... um ... well ... then we, I mean ... um ..."

She looked down at her feet and didn't know how to continue. Her head was pounding, she was knackered from crying so hard, and now her face was growing hot as memories came flying back to her.

"You ... kissed?" he asked. She wished it had been as innocent as that sounded.

Her face flushed deeper, and she said, "Yes, that's right ... We kissed." It would be easier to pretend, for the sake of discussion, they were just talking about a kiss. "You don't sound surprised."

"Lucky guess," he said with a shrug. When she continued to frown at him, he added, "I watch people, Hermione. Observation is the key to Divination, and I happen to be very good at it."

She smiled at the familiar arrogance, rather relieved to find some things hadn't changed, after all.

"So tell me about this kiss," he said.

She looked down, wondering how she had managed thirty-three years of living her life without developing the ability to feel comfortable discussing such topics.

"Okay. We kissed, and I thought everything was going well ... I mean, it was incredible! It was the best ... kiss ... I've ever had," she finished with a quick peek at his face. She seriously doubted that the ever-perceptive Draco was so naïve as to buy into the notion they were really discussing a kiss, but his expression remained impassive.

"What part of that upset you?" he asked.

"Well, I think I was the only one enjoying it," she said honestly, holding her palms up and then dropping her hands to her sides while her mind returned to the alcove. "I obviously wanted to ... um ... kiss ... more than Severus did."

He frowned. "That's hard to believe."

"You don't have to flatter me, Draco," she said with a slight chuckle. "I'll get over it."

"No, it isn't that," he said, shaking his head before turning clear blue eyes on her. "I've known Severus a long time, and I've never seen him act the way he has these past few months. Even when I visited him at St Mungo's, long before his return to Hogwarts, he asked so many questions about you...he seemed rather obsessed, actually. And it's only grown since he arrived here. I would have wagered a thousand Galleons he was interested in you."

"I'm glad you didn't: you would have lost."

He pursed his lips and then said slowly, "I'm not sure. I can only imagine how unsettling it must be to open your eyes one day and everyone's lives have advanced fourteen years while yours has held still. In most respects, he's adjusting fairly well...exceptionally well, even. You, my dear, seem to be the only thing that presents him with a problem."

"It's not intentional."

"No, of course not," he said. "But to Severus, you've gone from an annoying little chit to a desirable woman...whose talent for Potions matches his own...in the blink of an eye."

She considered his words and tried to put herself in Snape's position.

Draco continued, "Severus may simply need time to stop thinking of you as a student. Perhaps that's why he found it difficult to continue your kiss."

"Actually, I know exactly why he didn't continue the kiss," she said quietly. She wasn't sure why she'd refrained from relaying the entire story behind Snape's motivations earlier; somehow, the knowledge of her own culpability in causing the situation was harder to confess than the details.

"Okay ... Why?"

She chewed on her lower lip. "I did something which embarrassed him in front of his class," she admitted, looking back down. "And later, just as we were about to really ... kiss... he broke it off, and ... indicated he was merely trying to prove a point to me."

Her gaze flew to his face. "And it worked ... I'm so embarrassed," she whispered.

"Don't be. You didn't do anything to be ashamed of!" Anger darkened his smooth features.

She studied her feet again. Perhaps his statement would be accurate if they were truly just talking about a kiss. She wondered if he'd say the same if he knew what had really transpired, how she'd thrown herself at Snape so recklessly.

"Hermione, look at me," he said, bringing her gaze back to his. "I know you. I know there is nothing you could possibly have done to cause you any shame."

She looked away from him again, but he continued, "You always act with your heart first, and then with your mind. Why do you suppose you ended up in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw?"

Perhaps he was right. "You're going to bring House into it now?" She smiled a little sadly.

"No," he laughed. "We'll discuss the fact that this happened with a Slytherin later."

She offered an unladylike snarl.

He put his hand on her shoulder and grew serious again. "Those founding witches and wizards knew what they were about. They sort the students by what's in their hearts, and then what's in their heads. And living your life that way should never give you cause for embarrassment or shame."

His words rang true. The heavy knot in her stomach loosened, and she gazed at her friend with new respect. "You're a very wise man, Draco Malfoy. And a surprisingly kind one, as well."

He winked and offered a crooked smile. "Yeah, well ... I will fervently deny the kindness bit if it ever gets out."

"Your secret is safe with me," she answered. "So long as I can impose upon you for one more favour ..."

"Yes?"

"May I use your quarters to freshen up a bit?"

"Of course," he told her and led her to the door to his living quarters. With a sheepish grin, he explained, "It's an awful mess ... I don't often sleep here; I've been Apparating home to be with Luna and the girls."

"I'm sure I can handle it," she told him.

She entered the quarters and shut the door behind her. He hadn't been exaggerating about the state of the room. She was greeted by precariously balanced towers of books, scrolls of parchment in every size and length, and a bizarre assortment of Divination tools strewn about with little order. The bed was piled high with stacks of homework, and she couldn't help but smile as she walked through the room and entered the bathroom. It looked like the bachelor pad of a fortune teller and made her want to laugh for the first time in hours.

She stood under the hot jets of the shower for a very long time, Draco's words replaying through her mind. She'd have to return to the dungeons soon, and although she still dreaded it, she no longer felt overwhelmed by the desire to flee. The memory of telling Snape that she never backed down from a challenge kept floating back to her, mocking and taunting. She'd have to face him sooner or later, and it was probably best to just get it over and done with now.

He was a proud man, and it had been dangerous to challenge him in front of his class. And although he had proven himself to be an inherently good man, she'd been foolish to forget the countless times in the past when he'd shown how much of a bastard he could be. If only she hadn't made the 'old man' crack, perhaps it wouldn't have been taken to that other level. But once it was out, he had seemed more than willing to remind her of his previous warning, and she had been more than eager to be shown precisely how true his words about experience and arousal had been.

She stepped out of the shower and told herself she'd learnt a valuable lesson today. She towelled dry while her mind planned how best to proceed. More than anything, she was determined not to let him see how much his actions had shaken her today. Surely that would be the best way to rankle him, even if it wasn't entirely truthful. She briefly wished they weren't forced to a share living space, but she shrugged the thought aside. Such cowardice didn't suit her...let him find another place to live. She was not going to be forced out of the dungeons, however uncomfortable it might be. Naturally, some distance would be required...for self-preservation more than pride. No more reading together by the fire at night; that was far too intimate. Their shared meals at the cosy breakfast table would likely need to cease as well. But the time apart would give her sufficient opportunity to plot a suitable revenge ...

Satisfied with her plan, she shoved some of the schoolwork to one side of the unused bed and stretched out, staring up at the ceiling. She marvelled at how much better she felt after her talk with Draco, and the shower, and, of course, a careful plan set in her mind. Telling herself she'd just close her eyes for a second, she turned on her side and let exhaustion carry her into blissfully dreamless sleep.

Hermione awoke many hours later, feeling stiff and completely disorientated. Memories came rushing back at alarming speed, and she realised she must have slept for a very long time in Draco's room. She sat up and stared at the fire crackling in the fireplace: it had lain empty after her shower but now warmed the room nicely. Looking down, she noticed a blanket had been placed over her, and she smiled at Draco's obvious kindness. She heard his voice in her head saying, "People change, Hermione," and knew that was certainly true of him. Whether the same could be said for Snape, though, was another matter entirely.

Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, she rubbed her eyes and glanced at the window, noting with surprise that it was completely dark outside. She assumed that Draco would have Apparated home for the night by now, and she briefly considered staying where she was, just for tonight. But she stood with a small sigh. Delaying the inevitable would only heighten her dread. She laced her fingers together and stretched her arms high above her head, then rolled her neck and shoulders to work out some of the stiffness.

The hum of voices in the outer room halted her motions. She listened to the muffled conversation growing louder and moved towards the Divination classroom. Noiselessly, she opened the door a crack and peered through.

Draco hadn't left after all. He stood by his desk, red splotches of anger darkening his cheeks.

"If it's nothing more than a mind-game to you, perhaps you should find someone else to play with," he said to someone in the room. His voice could have cut stone.

She opened the door a tad wider and heard the voice before she saw the face.

"This does not concern you, Draco," Snape said.

Her hands shook at the sound of his voice, the sight of his face. They stilled when he spoke again and anger surged within her.

"What is she to you, anyway?" Snape asked. "I thought you were happily married."

"I'm going to ignore your implication, Severus. I realise you've spent fourteen years without human interaction. Undoubtedly, you're out of practice."

"Spare me the lecture, Professor," said Snape. "I didn't come here for a lesson in making friends."

"Obviously," said Draco. "Shall we review the events which did, in fact, bring you here?"

Even through the crack in the door, she could see Snape snarl in response. He paced back and forth, turning tight circles like a tiger trapped in a cage.

"I only wish to find her," he said at last. "I know she's been here ... I can smell her soap." The look he shot at Draco was heavy with accusation.

"Yes, she was here," Draco said.

"When?" he asked at once. "How long ago did she leave? Where did she go?"

"Severus, listen to me," Draco said. "I know it must be difficult to reconcile your memories of her against the woman she's grown into."

Snape waved away his comments with a dismissive flick of his hand. "Just tell me where she went, Draco."

"Hear me out, first," Draco said. "I know she's brilliant and tough, but she's also more vulnerable than you might think. She rarely lets it show, and I know it's hard to fathom that someone can be so strong and yet so fragile at the same time. But you must try to remember that."

Snape appeared to consider Draco for a moment. Then his expression turned ominous, and his tone was heavy with innuendo as he said, "I never realised you knew her so intimately."

Draco's hands fisted at his sides. "She happens to be my friend, Severus. And as such, I won't stand by and watch you hurt her!"

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I know pain when I see it," Draco spat. "I just never thought someone I admired so much could be the cause of it."

Muttering an oath, Snape raised his hand to his head and raked his fingers through his hair, sweeping it off his forehead. His expression seemed to vacillate between repentance and anger, neither staying on his face long enough to reveal his thoughts.

"Have I ever asked you for anything, Draco?"

"No," he replied quietly.

"And yet you'll deny me this one simple request? Your memory has obviously dulled with time."

All traces of colour drained from Draco's face, leaving his features stark and pallid. "I will never forget everything you've done for me, Severus," he said, his voice fierce. "But I owe you my soul, not hers."

Snape stared at him in silence for a long time, his face a mask. Then he brought his hands to his face, swiping them over his eyes before slowly trailing them down his cheeks. "No, you don't owe me anything," he said finally, and his voice sounded rough. "Just tell me where she is. Please."

Draco watched Snape in silence. Regret seemed to cross his face before he shook his head and said, "I can't."

"Damn it!" Snape's voice roared like thunder. He drew his wand and stormed at Draco.

To his credit, Draco had his wand out within two seconds, but Hermione was faster still, having already opened the door at Draco's refusal to answer. She charged into the room. "What the hell is going on here?"

Both men spun to face her. Their wands were instantly lowered, and they had the good sense to look abashed as she stood before them, hands on her hips.

"Well?" she demanded again.

"Severus was looking for you," Draco offered.

She narrowed her eyes at Snape. "Oh, really?" she asked. "Well, you found me."

He stared back at her, shifting his gaze to take in her rumpled appearance. She knew she must look a mess, having gone to sleep with wet hair and fully clothed.

When he remained reticent, she dropped her hands and turned to Draco. "Thank you for your kindness and hospitality," she told him.

He nodded and cast speculative glances between her and Snape.

"I'm sure you're anxious to get home to Luna and the twins. Please don't feel compelled to stay on my behalf," she said.

"Are you certain?" he asked with a small frown.

"Yes, quite," she assured him. Then, with a mocking smile, she turned to Snape and said, "I promise that Professor Snape and I will be prodigiously civil to one another."

He looked unconvinced, so she added, "Give my regards to Luna, please."

Draco walked towards the exit but stopped briefly in front of Snape. He spoke quietly, making it impossible for Hermione to overhear his words. Snape inclined his head in acknowledgment but pursed his lips into a thin line of disapproval.

Then he departed, leaving her alone to face Snape in the awkward silence.

A million thoughts raced through her head, but she couldn't settle on which one to voice first. She perched on the edge of a large, overstuffed chair and folded her arms across her chest, regarding him in the same way he often watched her. His face, as always, was unreadable, except for the angry expression still on his lips.

Finally, he spoke. "Have you been here all day?" he asked.

"Pretty much," she answered. "Draco was very kind..." she began, but he cut her off quickly.

"How dare you reveal the details of our..." he started angrily, but it was her turn to cut him off.

"Stop!" she commanded, closing her eyes while raising her hands up as if to stall his words. Amazingly, it worked.

"I have no wish to fight with you." She opened her eyes and took a deep breath. "And I think we both know how arguments beginning with the phrase 'how dare you' can end in trouble."

His mouth tightened, and he resumed his jerky pacing, hands clenching and unclenching.

She waited for him to speak, but he remained frustratingly silent. "I told Draco we kissed," she said, responding to his earlier accusation. "Nothing more."

He stopped his pacing and peered across the room, into the living quarters. His eyes darkened at the site of the messy bed. "I didn't realise you and Draco were such ... close ... friends," he said pointedly.

"There's a lot you don't realise about me," she told him softly, and his gaze instantly moved to her face, his dark eyes searching. Trying to speak calmly, she pushed the anger aside and said, "And I resent your implication. Draco is like a brother to me."

"You resent my implication?" he asked with obvious scorn. "You disappeared over eight hours ago, you've been here the entire time, and you've obviously been sleeping in his bed!" He jerked his head towards the living chambers. "What was I supposed to infer from such behaviour?"

"So you just assume that I came up here and ... and ... what, exactly? Slept with a married man?" She jumped to her feet. "Just what kind of woman do you think I am?"

Before he could draw a breath to answer, she held up her hands and closed her eyes. "Please don't answer that," she said with a sigh and returned to her seat. She vividly recalled her behaviour in the alcove, and she didn't need him to point out what kind of woman would act in such a way.

"For the record," she began, opening her eyes and forcing herself to look at him, "Draco offered me nothing more than a sympathetic ear and the use of his shower." His jaw clenched at her words, but he said nothing.

"As regards my behaviour with you this morning ..." she started and then paused to find the right words as her face grew hot, "... it is certainly not my habit to ... act so wantonly, despite my actions to the contrary."

"Nor is it mine!" he said with a surprising amount of force, but she held her palms aloft once more.

"Please, just let me finish. I shouldn't have challenged you in front of your class. That was highly unprofessional ..." she began, inclining her head towards him, "... as was your choice of retaliation."

She met his eyes, determined her gaze would not falter. "I hope you enjoyed the sound of me begging, Severus, because I can promise it's something you'll never hear again."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she quickly continued, "Actually, I should thank you for stopping when you did ... for exhibiting restraint and good judgment when mine had obviously failed."

"Hermione, please don't," he said quietly, his shoulders falling.

"Don't what?" she asked. "I'm only trying to accept defeat, as you had suggested the last time I challenged you."

He looked wounded somehow, but she needed to finish. "I've never just abandoned reason and behaved in such a way. Honestly. So ... well done, you."

"Stop," he told her.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm done." Despite the nap, her bed beckoned. She stood and crossed the room.

"Wait," he said.

She turned. "What?"

"I ... I apologise," he said as he approached her. He stared down into her face, as if searching. After some time, he said formally, "I apologise for my actions today. I regret if my methods caused you any ... doubt."

It wasn't often he apologised to anyone...for anything. "Thank you," she began, "but it was entirely my own fault. I was foolish to have expected anything ... better." She shrugged again, and as she turned away, she thought she saw him wince as surely as if she'd slapped him.

Although exhausted, she was relieved the conversation was over and they could return to their respective lives. He followed her down the ladder and through the North Tower, always a few paces behind but impossible to ignore.

She congratulated herself for handling the situation in a mature manner and tried not to wonder why it had left her feeling so hollow. She resolved to ignore the sudden emptiness that pervaded, but it seemed to echo with their footfalls as they made the long journey back to the dungeons together in silence.

As always, I offer heartfelt thanks to Karelia and little_beloved for their beta skills, friendship, and priceless advice.