Chapter 14

This Time

Chapter 14

Break a heart, break a heart of stone

Open it up but don't you leave it alone

'Cuz that's all I got to give you

Believe me babe, it ain't been used

My heart's a virgin, it ain't never been tried

and you know I never cry

I Never Cry - Alice Cooper

Hermione met him in the common room at one o'clock to go down to the Great Hall for Christmas lunch.

'Oh, wait!' she cried, as he stood in the corridor outside the portrait hole and she remained within. 'I have little gifts for the teachers...I left them up in my room!'

Severus scowled impatiently, but she hung back. 'You go on...I'll meet you down there,' she assured him.

'All right,' he agreed, letting the Fat Lady close and heading off down the corridor. He traversed the way without incident until he reached the landing down from the first floor, where he found a rather tiny boy in a Ravenclaw jumper huddled on the bottom step, sobbing. 'What's this?' he said in his best Head of House tones.

Beneath a shock of light brown hair, a tear-drenched face turned up to his. The little bloke was crying too hard to speak, and Severus moved down to the landing, crouching and producing a handkerchief. 'Here,' he said. 'Mop up...don't make me do it for you.'

As if under orders, the boy wiped his cheeks, ending by blowing his nose forcefully.

'That's the ticket,' Severus said approvingly. 'Now, what's your name?'

The boy's lips trembled. 'Simon, sir,' he said, obviously responding to the authority in Severus' voice rather than the slight acne breakout on his forehead.

'Well, Simon,' he said, gently but firmly, 'what's happened to upset you?'

Simon drew a shaky breath. 'I miss my m-mum,' he said.

Severus nodded gravely. 'I'll tell you a secret,' he said, beckoning, and Simon leant forward to hear it. 'Everyone here misses their mum,' he assured the boy.

Simon blinked, diverted. 'What? Even Professor Dumbledore?'

Severus nodded solemnly. 'Especially Professor Dumbledore.'

Simon looked marginally more cheerful. 'I never would've thought of that,' he admitted.

Severus straightened up, looking down at the first-year. 'Be that as it may, keep this in mind: No one likes a sniveller. So, chin up and enjoy the Christmas feast...it's what your mum would want, after all...and there's nothing quite like a Hogwarts Christmas feast.' Severus offered his hand, and Simon grasped it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.

'Yes, I will,' he said determinedly, returning the damp handkerchief to Severus and marching down the remaining steps to the entrance hall.

Severus smirked and Vanished the disgusting handkerchief.

'But this is your first Hogwarts Christmas,' Hermione said, and he looked up to see her standing on the landing above, watching him.

'It is,' he lied smoothly, 'but the firstie doesn't know that.' He nodded towards the entrance hall. 'Come along, before we miss out on all the best of the food.'

She walked with him down the remaining stairs, but he had the distinct impression that she was not entirely satisfied with his answer.

On Boxing Day, they set out for their walk about the lake in the newly fallen snow, and when they were far enough away from the castle, she tucked her hand in his, a feeling of enormous satisfaction for him. He was almost honour bound, then, to tumble her in the snow and kiss her...kisses which she returned with a touch of sadness, a development which he found a bit puzzling.

Walking back to the castle with her, no longer holding her hand, the matter became a little bit clearer to him.

'I've relaxed for long enough,' she informed him. 'I've got to spend the days studying for my N.E.W.T.s...you understand, don't you?'

How could he respond to that? 'Of course I do,' he said gruffly, trying to sound as if how she chose to spend her days was of little concern to him. 'Maybe I'll actually get some reading done, now,' he added grumpily, as if he had not interrupted her reading as often as she interrupted his.

She looked slightly concerned, but resolute, as she recaptured and squeezed his hand. 'I'll still be in the common room after dinner, though, if you want to play chess or ... anything.'

He was unable to hide his relief at these words, though he strove to sound nonchalant as he said, 'I'll probably be there too.' He smiled at her...like a lovesick lapdog! Professor Snape informed him...making clear his feelings on the matter, in spite of his ambivalent words.

Hermione did some of her studying in the common room, where he had to struggle with himself not to interrupt her and claim her attention. She pored over Transfiguration and Arithmancy and spent hours translating Ancient Runes. She also brought out library books he had never seen before, books which she had charmed to remove the names from the covers. When she went up to her dormitory for some reason, he investigated the mysterious tomes, finding that she had placed Read-Me-Not Charms on them. The charm, which made the pages appear to be blank when the book was opened, was frequently used by parents to hide unsuitable material from their children.

'What are you up to, Hermione?' he murmured to himself. Checking to make sure she was not coming down the stairs, he gave her notes a quick look, as well, but found nothing alarming.

It was a puzzle.

In the evenings, though, her behaviour was completely reassuring. They spent increasing amounts of time kissing...long, drugging kisses which made it more difficult for him to part from her on each successive night.

One morning when they went down to breakfast, Hermione was hailed by McGonagall, and Severus continued on to the Gryffindor table. He poured coffee, adding cream and sugar to hers, as well, before beginning to eat his bacon and eggs. Owl post arrived, bringing to Severus the third letter he had received in the last couple of weeks from Allison and Jared. They were working on the Special Studies project during break, but Severus didn't want to think about that during this holiday, when he had Hermione's full attention all to himself. He shoved the missive into his pocket and watched Hermione as she hurried to join him, looking rather pleased with herself.

'The staff New Year's party is tomorrow night in the village, and Professor McGonagall wants me to organise a small celebration for the students.' She bit happily into her toast. 'Since the Head Girl's not here, I'm the ranking prefect.'

'You're stuck babysitting the whole lot of them for the night?' he demanded indignantly. 'Why can't she do it?'

'Because then she couldn't attend the staff party, could she?' Hermione said reasonably. 'Professor Vector drew the short straw, so she'll be staying behind to keep an eye on things...but she's got a bit of a head-cold and doesn't feel up to organising a party.'

Severus glared at the head table. He realised that Minerva McGonagall would not pass up an opportunity to drink the other staff members under the table...the woman had an unnatural head for Firewhisky, as Severus knew from personal experience. And he had no plans for New Year's Eve...other than spending it wound around Hermione in passionate necking, pushing the boundaries farther and farther with every encounter.

All right, it was a non-plan, but it beat the hell out of having her waste an evening away from him.

'Adin,' she said, and he brought his eyes back to her face. 'I don't have to entertain them all night...I can still be with you at midnight, if you want.'

'I want,' he muttered, thinking that if he were to complete that sentence, she would likely never speak to him again.

He skulked about the common room the next night, resisting the urge to crash the party Hermione and Dobby had arranged for the other students. He could imagine few things less appealing than a party full of little Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. The only lure was Hermione, and she wouldn't be able to attend to him with ten or twelve younger students to look after. He passed time by flipping idly through a book on Quidditch tactics he had borrowed from Harry, unable to concentrate on the illustrated defensive moves.

When the lion roared eleven, he heard tapping on the window glass and saw an owl perched on the ledge. Curious, he dumped Bother and Crookshanks onto the floor and went to the window, where he removed a letter from the owl's leg, scattering a handful of popcorn on the snowy window ledge. 'It's all I've got, so it's no use complaining,' he said severely to the bird, which had let out a mournful hoot. 'Go to the owlery if you're hungry,' he added.

Closing the window, he broke the seal on the parchment, recognising Hermione's handwriting at once.

Dear Adin,

If you would like to join me in seeing in the New Year, please come to the ground floor Divination classroom at half-past eleven.

Love,

Hermione

A grin broke over his face and he took the stairs up to his dormitory two at a time to brush his teeth and use a breath-freshening charm.

He strode through the castle towards Firenze's classroom, an emotion between anticipation and anxiety roiling in his chest. What did she expect of him tonight? He had no plans, really, other than the half-formed ones that woke and flourished each time they began to kiss, which usually involved seeing just where she was going to permit him to put his hands ... and the unacknowledged ones that were mere fantasies, in which he and Hermione had a future together ...

At precisely half-past eleven, he walked through the door and found himself in a perfect replica of a forest clearing, complete with the winter stars in the sky. The room was as warm as the castle ever was in December...not toasty, but not frigidly cold, as the actual forest would be.

He saw a blanket spread on the ground, as if for a picnic, and a wicker basket from which the long green neck of an opened wine bottle protruded...then Hermione walked out of the trees, murmuring an Illumination Spell as she came and there was only her.

She wore a slinky little black dress, the décolleté neckline of which showcased her gryphon pendant, and high-heeled shiny black shoes which added three inches to her height. Her face was carefully made up, as he had never seen her before, giving her a rather elegant, older look. She moved purposefully, straight up to him, twining her arms about his neck and pulling him down to receive her greeting, a kiss hot enough to make her intentions plain: He was a marked man.

He wrapped one arm about her, encountering the low-cut back of her dress, and buried a hand in her hair, kissing her with equal fervour, giving as good as he got. It was Hermione who broke the kiss, stepping away from him and waving a hand at the blanket.

'Come have a glass of wine,' she said.

'Aren't you a resourceful girl?' he said, watching as she stooped to pluck two glasses full of sparkling wine from the interior of the wicker basket.

'I have useful connexions,' she said, placing a glass in his hand. 'Dobby was amenable to helping me with both of my parties, tonight.'

Severus touched the glass to his lips, feeling the bubbles tickling his nose, but Hermione raised her glass to him, and he hastily mirrored her action.

'To us,' she said simply and drank champagne.

He drank as well, trying hard to concentrate on the implications of her toast, but having a difficult time tearing his attention from her body, showcased for his benefit and entirely too appealing.

Hermione stepped out of her shoes and lowered herself to the blanket, reaching within the basket and withdrawing a crystal bowl and holding it toward him. He sat down on the blanket beside her.

'You've been raiding Sprout's secret stash!' he said, nodding towards the strawberries in the bowl.

She ducked her head to hide her smile. 'There are advantages to being at the top of one's class,' she said. 'Neville and I are the only students she allows to work in that greenhouse...and she'll never notice a few missing strawberries.'

She plucked a plump berry from the bowl, and Severus noted for the first time that her fingernails had been painted Gryffindor red, to match the toenails he had glimpsed when she shed her shoes. In spite of himself, he felt his cock twitch.

'Take a drink,' she instructed, her voice low and sultry.

He brought the wine to his lips again, drawing champagne into his mouth, and she rose on her knees as he did so, almost as if her torso was tied to the motion of his goblet. She trailed the tip of the strawberry over his lower lip, and he opened to accept the offering, biting into the sweet flesh of the fruit.

'The flavours enhance one another,' she whispered, the heavenly scent of her wine-flavoured breath ruffling across his lips just before she lowered her mouth to his, her tongue darting into his mouth, as if to share the marriage of flavours with him.

He was instantly aroused by her overtly sexual approach, thrusting his tongue against hers, almost in self-defence, and thrilling as he always did to her throaty little sound of pleasure. Too soon, she sat back from him, resting her bum upon her heels and watching him closely with ardent eyes.

He tracked her with ardency of his own, a self-protective sneer touching his lips. 'You're playing a dangerous game tonight,' he warned her.

'I think you're up for it,' she replied evenly, allowing the double entendre to hang in the air between them for a moment before adding, 'I think you've ... shouldered the burden for long enough, and it's my turn to drive this bus for a while.'

He scrambled wildly for mental purchase, finding it virtually impossible to think coherent thoughts when his adolescent body...and his pounding heart...were responding to the stimulus of Hermione Granger on the hunt for him. He licked his lips nervously, watching her as she bit into a strawberry and followed with a sip of wine, her eyes closing in pleasure and bringing a distinct throb to his stiffening member.

'Maybe you don't have all the ... information you need,' he said, valiantly struggling to remain on point.

She rose toward him again, bringing another berry to his lips, watching intently as his teeth penetrated the pulp of the fruit, and she tipped her wineglass, marked with the Gryffindor red of her lipstick, to his mouth to complete the flavour combination.

'Oh, I have sufficient information,' she said, trailing fingers down to cup his cheek before she lowered her lips to his again, her tongue greedily dipping into his mouth to savour the sweetness there.

He retaliated, pressing his tongue aggressively into her mouth, his hands trailing up to cup her breasts, which he had never done before...almost as if he hoped to startle her into withdrawing from this encounter while she still could.

She reacted decisively, but not as he had imagined she might. A motion of her hand sent their wineglasses away, and she straddled his hips, her teeth closing gently over his lower lip before she sucked it into her mouth, her superior position giving her control of the kiss. He submitted to her aggression, reason leaching from him with each thrust of her tongue and nibble of her teeth. Dimly, he knew that they teetered on the edge of that precipice they had skirted so carefully for so long, and a decision awaited him. Would he somehow find the wherewithal to retreat from her? Or would he choose to plunge himself into the mounting conflagration? Sweet Merlin, what if he made that leap alone and found himself utterly lost in a girl who did not reciprocate his feelings? Hadn't he done that once already?

Then she released his lips and rose up on her knees, taking his hand and placing it beneath her skirt upon her nakedness...and he realised she had in this, as in many things, made her decision and taken the plunge before him.

'Hermione,' he said raggedly, breaking away from her kiss, unable to formulate a more concrete sentence...this would have to suffice for a final warning.

She responded by reaching between their bodies, her fingertips fumbling at his belt buckle. He groaned and took his plunge, flipping her over onto her back and moving atop of her, his kiss like a weapon in this war of sanity versus desire. He pressed himself against her, desperate to enfold her, to cleave to her, to possess her. The voice of Professor Snape protested loudly against his intent, but Severus had grown so distant from that part of himself that the objection scarcely registered with him. All that mattered was her mobile lips beneath his own, her vital presence in his arms, her glorious spirit, striving to twine with his, awakening him in ways he'd always longed for but never known.

He felt neither compunction nor restraint, only the imperative of claiming her, sure that their union would still the clamouring need that echoed through his mind and drove his actions. She was insistent in her response, as well, and when her fingers fumbled again at his belt, he was only too willing to assist her. He rose to push his jeans and pants down. Despite the passion thrumming through his body, he could not help but pause a moment to simply drink in her beauty...then she was pulling him down with cold hands, rising to meet him, her smooth legs moving over his hips, pushing his jeans even farther down his legs as she opened her body to him.

Not permitting himself to think, but only to feel and act, he found his way home, deep inside her body, filling her completely as their bodies joined. She gasped, and her hands found their way beneath his jumper, clutching, caressing, and urging, all at once. Rising over her, he was unable to look away from her eyes, the emotion he read there a reflection of everything he felt as he fucked her, marked her, made her his, forever.

Existence altered, narrowing to the sound of her whimpers and his laboured breathing, to the smell of her slick quim and strawberry flavoured breath, to the sight of her face, transcendent in pleasure and completion. Then she arched, crying out, and he was disintegrating, the air around him blurring until the only real ... the only solid thing on earth was Hermione, who held him tightly with arms and legs as he poured himself into her, on, and on, and on. Gasping, he buried his face in her throat, his hushed, 'Hermione,' his reverent benediction for her.

Her lips were on him, kissing what she could reach of him, holding him to her. He raised his face to see tears upon her lashes.

'Did I hurt you?' he asked, gently disentangling her legs and shifting his weight from her.

She shook her head from side to side, mutely denying the charge. She raised her head toward him, her lips parted welcomingly, and he kissed her tenderly, imbuing his kiss with the feelings he dared not express.

When at last they broke apart, she stroked his sweat-soaked hair back from his face, radiant and wondering. 'I love you, Severus,' she murmured, her fingers tangling in his hair.

His eyes widened at her statement, one part of him judging it to be a perfectly sensible pronouncement and another part thrilling to hear from her the words no girl had ever spoken to him before.

Then the full import of her words penetrated his sex-soaked brain, and he was scrambling up and away from her, backwards on his hands and feet like a crab. She sat up at he moved away, his love bites visible on her throat, her hair wonderfully mussed from their tempestuous lovemaking.

'Don't be afraid,' she said, reaching to him with her empty hands, her voice pleading.

He clambered to his feet, jerking up his clothes and fastening as he went, glad that he hadn't actually had anything off, just unfastened. This made his necessary and hasty exit easier to accomplish.

She was on her feet now, as well, moving towards him with urgency. 'I love you,' she repeated, as if the words could possibly make any sense to him in this situation. 'I would never betray you,' she added, by way of illumination, implying that there was some link between the two statements.

'My name is Adin Prince,' he vowed, pulling his wand, wondering if he dared to alter her memory.

'No one else has a clue, Severus...except, perhaps, for Luna. She sent me a card for Christmas that said, "Look with your heart." I think she was talking about you...about us.'

'No,' he said, moving away from her, towards the door.

'You're too clever,' she began, ticking things off on her fingers. 'Your nose is distinctive, but only if someone is looking for evidence to support a suspicion that Adin and Severus might be the same person. You move like him...I mean, like yourself...I mean, Severus Snape is the only man I've ever seen who moves with the grace you do. You call me "know-it-all" and "insufferable" and "Miss Granger", and you do it in that tone of voice I remember so well. You tell me you're too old for me. You take care of the younger students, and when you do, you sound so much like a Head of House that they automatically listen to you and obey. You kiss me and then avoid me, kiss me and try to protect me from yourself all at the same time...just like you've always protected us. And the classroom notes from 1978 aren't your mother's...they're yours, Severus.'

Each tiny piece of the puzzle she delineated struck him like a blow, and he physically winced as she laid out her case against him.

'I don't care if you're seventeen or thirty-seven...I don't care about the mistakes you made when you were young...I don't care if you call yourself Adin Prince or Severus Snape!'

In his inattention, his inward flagellation for all the mistakes he had made, he had failed to note her position in the room and the fact that she now had his jumper bunched in her two fists as they rested on his chest.

'The only thing I care about,' she continued, looking up into his face with wild, desperate eyes, 'is this...the magic we make between us when we're together...and I don't care what I have to do to keep it!'

Tears were gathering in the corners of her eyes, and he felt a detached sort of sadness that she was going to cry. It was the story of his life, in a microcosm; those he sought to protect always ended up hurt ... or dead ... and he was doing it again, hurting the one person in the world he most wanted to cherish. It was just further proof of that truth he had often suspected about himself...he wasn't fit for human companionship, and it would be better for everyone if he lived alone, away from anyone who knew him.

'You're not listening to me!' she shrieked, yanking on his jumper. 'Don't you dare ignore me!'

Taking a deep breath, he gently prised her fingers loose from his clothing. 'I'm not ignoring you,' he assured her. 'I am not capable of ignoring you...if I were, we would both be much better off than we are now.'

Bursting into a storm of tears, she threw her arms around him, and he stroked her hair with infinite care, commanding himself to memorise the smell and texture of the bushy mass, to print forever in his memory the feel of her soft body against him. 'You're all right,' he murmured. 'You're fine...everything's going to be all right.' They were nonsense words, the things you said to someone who was inconsolable, but whether he spoke to her or to himself he could not have said.

'No,' she sobbed, finding her voice. 'No, I can feel you pulling away from me...you're doing that stupid, pointless thing...you don't have to do it ...'

'I will always, always care for you, Hermione,' he swore, knowing that tears now fell from his eyes, too, and not caring. He owed this to her, this speaking of the truth, and once he said it, they would be over...she would never be his to hold, not ever again. 'But we will never be together, and I was the worst of villains to ever let you believe for one moment that it was possible.'

And in the nascent new year, standing in an artificial forest clearing, Severus Snape held Hermione Granger in his arms, shedding tears of bitter self-recrimination, swearing to himself that he would find a way to make her whole before he removed himself from her life forever.