Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Hermione relaxed in her room, nibbling on a chocolate and looking at all the flowers Ginny had sent her in Harry's name. She idly wondered again just what Fred and George had done to make themselves susceptible to blackmail. She wondered if she should offer again to reimburse Ginny – it couldn't be good for the sibling bond to have blackmail between them, could it?

The knock on her door startled her. She wasn't entirely surprised when Severus's voice responded to her query, although she hadn't been expecting him. When she had left his quarters a couple of hours ago, he had mentioned having essays to mark today, so she had planned to spend a relaxing Sunday cleaning her room (the easy way), then whiling the afternoon away in the library, or perhaps seeing if Ginny wanted to take a walk around the lake.

Opening the door, she said, "Hi! This is a pleasant surprise." She stepped back and waved him in. "What brings you by?"

"I heard something that I wanted to ask you about," Severus replied.

Frowning, she said, "Okay, sure. What's up?"

Instead of speaking right away, he glanced around the room, eyes pausing here and there on the many flower arrangements. Finally, he asked baldly, "Is Potter courting you?"

He didn't sound upset, just curious, and without even thinking about it, she answered truthfully. "What? No, he's not. Why?"

"Where did all these flowers come from?"

"The flowers?" Suddenly concerned that he might be more upset with the truth than with the rumors, she said, "That's ... kind of complicated."

Severus frowned. "What's complicated about it? You do know where they came from, don't you?"

"Well, yes, but it's going to sound strange, I think."

"Hermione, you might as well just tell me. Did Potter send you the flowers?"

"No, he didn't. Really," she added, when he raised an eyebrow.

"Well, then, is someone else courting you?"

"No," she said. "Ginny Weasley sent them to me."

"Ginny Weasley?" he repeated, sounding even more confused than he had moments earlier. "Why would the Weasley girl send you flowers?"

"Because she wanted to start a rumor that Harry was courting me."

"She wanted to – Hermione, that makes no sense. Why would she want to do that? And even if she did, how would sending flowers to you accomplish that?"

"Okay," Hermione said, keeping her tone light and soothing. "Just give me a minute, and I'll explain it, okay?"

"I would appreciate that greatly," Severus said, and to his credit, his tone had only a slight hint of sarcasm.

Hermione explained rapidly, hoping to get it all out before he exploded. "Well, basically, Ginny and I were talking, and she mentioned the gossip that was circulating about – well, us – and I thought maybe that's why you were in such a bad mood. So I commented that it was too bad that we couldn't put a stop to the gossip, and she said we could – all we needed was juicier gossip. And we figured gossip about Harry's love life would do the trick, but Harry doesn't actually have a love life at the moment, so we had to make one up. And Ginny thought the best idea was to let it slip out that Harry was courting me – we couldn't use her because her family is still hoping they'll get back together and we wouldn't want to open that can of worms, and we wouldn't want to involve anyone else, either – so she started sending me flowers and stuff, and mentioning that Ron was worried because Harry wasn't getting anywhere with me, and ... well, you get the picture." She shrugged. "Anyway, it worked, didn't it?"

"Yes, so it seems, but why didn't you mention it to me?" Hermione took it as a good sign that he sounded puzzled rather than angry.

"Because it wasn't important, and you were in a bad enough mood without mention of Harry." He didn't say anything; after a short silence she sighed, wondering if she had been misreading his reaction. "You're angry, aren't you?"

"What?" he asked, sounding surprised. "Why would I be angry? You wanted to make things easier for me, even if you chose an odd way to go about it." He fell silent again.

After a while, she asked tentatively, "Severus? You're making me nervous. If you're not mad, what are you thinking?"

"I'm just trying to put the pieces together," he answered, sounding preoccupied.

"What pieces?" she asked, letting her frustration sound in her voice. "I told you, Harry's not interested in me, and I'm not interested in him, either – not like that, anyway. So what's to figure out? I love you. You know that. Don't you?"

Her question hung in the air between them. He thought carefully before he answered, surprised to realize that he did know that. "Yes, I believe I do." He tried to put into words what was bothering him. Eventually, he said, "What I can't figure out, still, is what happened when you were with Miss Weasley last week that changed your entire way of relating to me. You have to admit, your change in attitude was rather – abrupt."

"She talked some sense into me, that's all," Hermione said evasively.

"What kind of sense?" Severus pressed. "Your behavior made perfect sense in light of the way I had been acting, and then suddenly, it was like you started responding to something else entirely. I just can't figure out what it was."

She sighed. "You aren't going to let this go, are you?"

"I can't," he agreed. He didn't really understand why this was so important to him, but he couldn't pretend it wasn't. "I need to understand you, and right now, I'm missing something important, so I can't."

"But Severus, you do understand what's important. I love you. That's what matters – the only thing that matters."

"No, Hermione, it's not. You loved me last week, too, but you weren't happy, then. You were pulling away, and I understood that. It made sense, considering the way I was distancing myself from you."

"Well, yes, but I didn't understand, then."

"Didn't understand what?"

She sighed again. It was obvious that she didn't want to discuss this, and for a moment, he thought she was going to refuse to answer. But finally, looking resigned and anxious, she said defensively, "Okay, fine. I'm not sure you're ready to hear this, but I guess you're determined to know, anyway. I didn't understand, then, that you were in love with me, and scared to death."

"What?" Severus was shocked. For a moment he just stared at her, unsure how to even begin to respond to that. Eventually, he found his voice and managed to ask, "What on earth gave you that idea? I'm not – I don't – I never said –" He tried to get the words out, but for some reason, his lips wouldn't cooperate.

She said petulantly, "See, I knew you weren't ready to hear it. But you insisted."

He tried again. "Hermione, I care about you deeply, and I don't want to hurt you, but –" he shook his head. He had to make her see that he couldn't give her what she wanted – what she needed. "You have to understand, I was in love once, and it was a disaster. I can't do it again. I'm sorry." He braced himself for her reaction. He hoped she wouldn't cry – he couldn't take it when she cried.

Suddenly, and in his opinion, very inappropriately, she laughed. "Severus, I hate to tell you this, but you don't actually have any control over who you love." She walked over to him and kissed him. He was baffled by this response. "I know you don't want to be in love with me or anyone else, but you are. If you're really honest with yourself, you can't miss it."

"But, Hermione," Severus insisted, "I'm sure I would know if I was in love with you." Wouldn't he? It wasn't the same as it had been with Lily, so it couldn't be love. Could it?

"Really?" Hermione asked skeptically. "Are you really sure you're not just hip-deep in denial?"

"No, of course I'm not," he insisted again. Denial? He was too smart and tough to be in denial – especially the deep denial she was suggesting. Still, he asked cautiously, "What makes you think I am?"

She paused, as if deciding what to say. When she spoke, she said something completely unexpected. "Well, for one thing, I cast a spell that told me your true feelings."

Severus stared at her, stunned speechless for several long seconds. She had said she wasn't going to use magic in their relationship anymore. He suspected he would be really angry about this later, but at the moment, he was too shocked to even really process the implications of it.

Anyway, he had certainly given her reason enough to feel she had no choice, hadn't he?

"A spell?" he asked finally. He still had no idea how to react to this, and his tone reflected his confusion. "What spell?" He wondered if he was in some sort of weird alternate universe. This entire conversation – maybe this entire day – seemed completely surreal to him.

"The Fides fidelis charm. Are you familiar with it?" Her tone, surprisingly, didn't seem particularly concerned.

"I've heard of it," Severus said, trying to recall what he knew about it. At least this was something he could wrap his mind around – not like her contention that he loved her without knowing it, or that she had used a spell to determine his feelings. A vague memory of the spell she was talking about surfaced. They had briefly considered whether it would be useful in the war, hadn't they? "It's not generally taught because it's generally not a very useful charm, given its short duration and the limitations on the relationships involved." He paused, wondering where she had found it, then realized she had almost certainly found it in a book – which meant she had taught it to herself. Why that surprised him, he had no idea. She seemed to teach herself things all the time – Polyjuice Potion-making and how to defeat Devil's Snare and the dangers of basilisks and the entire history of Hogwarts sprang readily to mind – so this was really just one more thing in a long line. He was almost amused, despite himself, but he suppressed that reaction because so much was at stake. He asked cautiously, "Are you sure you cast it correctly?"

"I practiced with Ginny for hours until it was working reliably," Hermione said confidently. "And anyway, I've realized since then that you tell me a hundred times a day that you love me. Just because you do it without words doesn't make it any less clear."

Severus had no idea what she was talking about – he had never said he loved her, in word or deed. He was most careful not to give her false impressions. Or at least, he thought he was. Apparently, he hadn't been as careful as he thought. Clearly, he should stop doing whatever was making her think that. And she must have cast that spell incorrectly, despite all her practice. He hated the idea that she was setting herself up to be hurt.

He hated the idea that she might be hurt, period. "How?" he demanded. "How do you think I tell you – that?"

She shook her head. "You're not even aware you do it, Severus. And it's only in the last week that I became aware you were doing it." She paused, looking as though she was trying to think of an example. Just when he thought she would admit defeat, she said, "When I walk into a room you're in, I immediately have your full attention." Well, that was certainly true. Even if he didn't see her walk in, his skin would prickle with awareness, and he would know she was there. And his attention would be on her from that moment onward, until long after she left. She was still speaking, though. "And whenever you see me, this look passes over your face, so fleeting that I didn't used to notice it."

"What look?" he demanded, trying to put a sneer in his voice, but suspecting he had failed miserably when she just smiled blithely. He had worked hard to perfect a poker face – a necessary tool for a spy's very survival – so she had to be mistaken about some 'look'.

"It's hard to describe," she said, her smile perhaps slightly rueful, but nevertheless firmly in place. "It's kind of ... I don't know ... a flash of longing? And there's pleasure mixed up in it, too – joy, even. It's like you're surprised and delighted to see me, I suppose." He suppressed the feeling of recognition that description engendered. Maybe he did feel momentarily joyful whenever he caught sight of her, and maybe he was surprised anew every time he saw her that she seemed to want him, but he certainly didn't show it. Although, if he kept it as secret as he thought, how did she describe it so perfectly? She wasn't finished, though. "And you do all these little things, too – you think I don't notice, but I do. Actually, I'm not even sure you're aware that you're doing them yourself." She shrugged.

When she didn't continue, he demanded, "What things?"

She shrugged again, then rattled off a surprising list. "You pay attention to whether I'm eating properly – you sneak more vegetables or fruit onto my plate when you think I'm not looking. You tell me you're in the mood to take a nap when you think I'm tired. You put extra blankets on your bed, even though I know you'd be perfectly comfortable without them."

Well, yes, he did do all those things, because otherwise, he worried about her. She needed her nutrients, and her rest, and she was always cold ... but taking care of her didn't mean he loved her. Did it? He shook his head and said as much. "Just because I care about your health doesn't mean I'm in love with you, Hermione."

She patted his hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me."

"Hermione –" he began again, but she cut him off.

"Severus," she said, sounding exasperated. "I know what you did for Harry yesterday."

"What?" he said. "I didn't do anything." He ignored the voice in his head that whispered, of course you did, you sentimental fool. And she knows it, so why are you bothering to deny it?

"Yes," she insisted. "You did, and I appreciate it."

"What is it you think I did?" She couldn't really know, could she? Potter wouldn't have told anyone, would he?

Her next words disabused him of that notion. "Harry owled Ginny, and she told me, so don't try to deny it."

"Deny what?" he asked.

"That you went to see him to make peace."

"So, I went to see him. So what? Just because I want to make it easier for you to be around both of us doesn't mean –" He ignored the voice in his head again – this time, it was pointing out that he was awfully concerned about the feelings of someone he supposedly wasn't in love with. And that he had gone out of his way to get along with a person he hated for the sake of a woman he had been sure wouldn't be hanging around him much longer. I should have gone with my first instinct and Obliviated myself, he thought morosely.

She stopped him. "And you spent two hours telling him stories about his mother. Two hours! You would never voluntarily spend two hours with Harry for any reason, before – except possibly detention, if you couldn't get someone else to supervise it. The fact that you did so now – and totally of your own accord – speaks volumes. Don't try to tell me you don't love me, Severus." She shook her head reprovingly.

"Maybe I did that for Lily." His voice sounded desperate, even to his own ears. Who was he kidding? He could barely tolerate keeping the little pain in the arse alive for Lily's sake.

Apparently, Hermione knew it, too, because she scoffed, and her words echoed his own thoughts. "Don't be ridiculous, Severus. You had enough trouble making yourself keep Harry alive for Lily, and that was even knowing how much the Order needed him. You never quite managed to make yourself be nice to him, and you know it. You don't love Lily anymore, assuming you ever did. You love me."

She sounded so certain that he almost found himself nodding automatically, before he caught himself. "But –" Of course he still loved Lily. Of course he did! And what did she mean, 'assuming you ever did'? Was she really implying that he hadn't truly loved Lily in the first place?

She held up a hand and cut him off again. "Stop. Just stop. There's no point in arguing with me about this, Severus. There is nothing you can say to convince me that you don't love me. It's fine if you don't want to say the words. I don't need them – not that I would mind, of course, if you decide that you want to say them at some point. But I know, to the depth of my soul, that you love me. As I said, you tell me all the time, and no, I didn't cast the Fides fidelis spell inaccurately," she insisted, apparently reading his next objection on his face. "I did it absolutely correctly and I know what I know." She paused, considering him thoughtfully, then added, "You look a bit stunned, Severus. Now, my guess is that you'll need some time to process this – I'm sure it's come as a shock to you, after all – so if you need some time to yourself, that's fine. I'll be waiting."

Her eyes were filled with an odd mixture of feminine wisdom, sweet compassion, and pure stubbornness. They made him uncomfortable, so he looked away. "Perhaps it would be best if we spent some time apart," he agreed uncertainly, not sure what else to do. He tried to keep his voice even, but he had to admit to himself that it sounded a little defensive when he continued, "Maybe then you'll realize that this is just wishful thinking on your part. I don't want to hurt you, Hermione, but it wouldn't be fair for me to let you believe this fantasy."

He wasn't even really convincing himself, so he shouldn't have been surprised when she rolled her eyes. "See, I told you you weren't ready to hear this. All right, have it your way. You don't love me and you never will. Blah, blah, blah," she said. "Just remember, I love you, and I'll be waiting when you're ready to admit the truth."

He frowned. Why would she wait for him, when she had just admitted he didn't love her? He fought the sudden, contrary urge to argue with her, now that she had said what he had been trying to make her understand. Except she had really been placating him, rather than actually agreeing with him, hadn't she? "Hermione," he began, then stopped.

She was still speaking, as though she hadn't heard him. He forced himself to listen – to focus on what she was saying. "But, Severus, you're going to have to come to me," she continued. "I won't force you to be with me, even though I know it would make both of us very happy. It still has to be your choice, too."

"Hermione," he began again, suddenly not so sure that time apart was the way to go.

She must have thought he was going to try to tell her again that he didn't love her, because she stopped him again. "I heard you, Severus. I just don't believe you. Now, I think I'd like to take a nap. You're welcome to join me, or not, as you choose." He wanted to, desperately. What if, while he took time away from her to think this through, she gave up on him?

But he owed it to her to figure out whether she was right, or he was. "I – I guess I'll see you later," he said.

As he quietly closed the door behind him, he ignored the voice in his head that whispered that only a stubborn fool would miss an opportunity to nap with Hermione – love or no love.

I'm not a fool, he told himself firmly. I'm not.