Chapter 12

“In the morning,” he said, rubbing an eye in exhaustion.

“Do you feel anything?”

“Just some warmth.” He stifled a yawn. “You did a good job, Hermione. I don’t think I could have done a better job.”

She flashed him a delighted smile. She reached across the table to cover his hand with hers.

“I had an excellent instructor throughout my Potions instruction. Now please, Severus, let’s eat. Then you go to bed. You’re exhausted.”

After a light dinner of cheese and bread, he could no longer keep his eyes open and allowed Hermione to lead him to the bed.

She left him to undress, and when she returned from the bathroom, he’d already drawn the curtains. Hermione crawled into her bed and fell asleep listening to his rattled breathing. She woke a bit cold in the night and immediately realized she couldn’t hear him. She quickly crept to his bed and drew back the green, velvet curtain to peek in on him.

He was lying on his back with only black pajama bottoms on. He had an arm thrown over his face, and in the dim light she could make out a strongly built chest lined with scars. Suddenly, she realized he was looking back at her with an amused smile on his lips.

“Oh, sorry!” she gasped, backing away.

“Hermione, come back. It’s okay! Can’t you sleep?”

She parted the curtains again, certain he could feel the heat radiating from her face.

“I thought you’d sleep till morning.”

“I woke just a minute before you did. Why are you up?”

“I was cold, I guess, and then I realized I couldn’t hear you breathing. I was concerned,” she whispered.

He slid over a bit and held open the covers for her. “I can take care of the cold if you don’t mind sharing.

Hermione visibly trembled. Sitting in his lap was one thing, sharing the bed was another. “Really, you don’t have to do this.”

“Come on,” he urged her. “I’ll be a gentleman. I promise. It’s just for warmth.”

She giggled nervously and climbed in next to him. She faced away from him, and he slid in closer enveloping her with the blankets and warmth of his body. He let his arm fall around her waist.

They both sighed, and he teased, “Be careful, Miss Granger, I could get used to this.” His breath was warm against her neck.

“So could I, Professor Snape.” She hugged his arm to hers, letting their fingers entwine.

They let themselves drift off to sleep.

***

Hermione woke to the feel of fingers caressing her hair. She lay still, enjoying the gentle touch for a few minutes and then finally sighed, as nature demanded attention.

“Good morning, Severus. Sorry, I need to use the loo,” she said.

He sighed and regretfully released her. He enjoyed watching her shapely backside as she slid from the bed.

He followed, getting out of bed and building a fire to warm the room. He’d have given anything to crawl back into bed with her at his side. He didn’t remember ever having woken in the morning with a woman at his side. He could not imagine “heaven” feeling any better. Later when he came from the bathroom, he found her waiting for him at the table with the scissors and bandages.

“Anxious?” he whispered.

“Aren’t you?” She waved him to the chair.

“A bit.” He sat down nervously, and she carefully cut the bandages off.

He could tell physically there was an improvement. He’d been free of the choking phlegm this morning.

“Oh, Severus!” She gasped when the bandages fell away unheeded to the floor. “Severus, feel.”

She grabbed his hand and pressed it to his throat. His fingers slipped over healed flesh. Only thin ridges of scar tissue met his probing fingers. The wounds were closed.

Emotion bubbled up inside him, and he could not stop it. His body shuddered with relief and a ragged sigh escaped his lips. His eyes stung with tears.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he buried his face against her. Sobs of relief tore from him. He hadn’t realized how frightened he’d been. He’d thought himself alone with not a soul to go to for help. He’d been certain that showing his face to the world would mean Azkaban or worse. He’d been certain that the grievous wounds would eventually become infected, and he would die a horrible death.

Finally the tears stopped, and he realized his face was pressed between her breasts. His face heated up, and he pulled back.

“I was quite enjoying that.” She smiled down at him; her face was wet with tears of happiness.

A deep chuckle came from his throat, and they both started. Even his vocal cords were healing.

Hermione was so excited that she leaned down and kissed his lips. Realizing what she’d done, she started to back away.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I was quite enjoying that.” He repeated her words.

“You were?”

“Yes, quite.”

He pulled her down into his lap, and their lips met. It was the gentlest, sweetest kiss he’d ever experienced. Overcome, he could not speak, so he held her tightly and silently thanked the Muggle God he’d heard about as a child. If anything in his life could make him believe in forgiveness, this was it.

They sat in silence a few minutes and then he put her on her feet. He was still a bit conflicted at having kissed a student—no—former student. He had to tell himself again she was of age and no longer a student. Not really experienced with what had just happened, he excused himself and went to the bathroom to examine the flesh on his neck.

Hermione smiled after him. She touched her lips and then turned to clean up the bandages and get breakfast on the table.