Chapter 14 - Baring Your Soul

A/N – There is a brief mention of past torture in this chapter. It's brief, but it is harsh. Proceed with caution.

Chapter 14 – Baring Your Soul

For so many months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds, Hermione had convinced herself over and over again that she would never hear the words that flowed from Severus’ tender lips. What she dared not say was her realization of the same towards him.

Regaining her composure, Hermione sat up straight and withdrew her arm from his hand. “Severus, then this may be for the best. It would be very inappropriate for us to continue our campaign. One should never mix business with a personal relationship.”

“Hermione, do not distance yourself. Do you not long for the same? I want to know you not on a business plane, but on a more personal level – even if it is just a close friendship.”

“Severus, what you want cannot be possible. Your world is opening up to new possibilities. There is a witch fated for you who will love you as much as you so deserve. And you do deserve love, Severus. Never doubt you are a good man. You are incredibly brave and risked your life to save ours. You deserve love, Severus, from someone who can return yours freely.”

Severus reached for the hand in her lap, but she countered by pulling it away.

“Hermione, what are you not telling me? You deserve love as much as anyone. You deserve a relationship, one I’m willing to try to give you, a companion and a supporter. You deserve someone who may one day give you the family you’ve lost.”

Hermione looked down to her hands. She sat up straight and brought her shoulders back. She drew upon her inner strength before looking into those pleading black eyes.

“That’s just it, Severus. I will never have a family. I cannot bear children, and it would be the height of selfishness to toy with a wizard’s emotions and not be able to deliver his possible dreams."

~~SSHG~~

“Were you further hurt during the war? Explain to me, please.” The look in Severus’ eyes held no hint of judgment.

In for a Knut, in for a Galleon. Hermione stunned herself imagining this trite saying at a time like this yet it was fitting.

“Severus, my womb was severely damaged twice in the war. In the Department of Mysteries, Antonin Dolohov’s curse cut through me, severing and scarring my right Fallopian tube. St. Mungo’s was able to correct most of the damage, but then Bellatrix Lestrange ruined me forever.

“What you didn’t see is what happened after her ‘branding’ of my arm. I was helpless to stop her.”

Severus watched as Hermione’s shoulders began to shake. He wanted so strongly to hold her, protect her, comfort her, but dared not agitate her during this confession.

“Severus, Bellatrix placed my own wand to my stomach. She recited words I’ve never heard before. They didn’t even sound like Latin – they sounded like Greek, but an even older language. I’ve wondered if it was Babylonian or another ancient language.

“The pain was blinding. She severed my uterus from my body, and then, while I was still wearing my jeans, she drew the organ from my body and forced it into the confines of my clothes. I’m broken beyond repair, Severus. Do not fall in love with me. It would kill me to break your heart in the long run.”

~~SSHG~~

Severus had been well aware of Dolohov’s wound, but not of the internal damage. The images of Bellatrix’s torture were fresh. He wanted to find that damned Resurrection Stone, pull her from her slumber and drop her into a cauldron of acid. Then repeat that action the following week.

His heart broke for Hermione’s loss.

“Hermione, love, your losses have left your hollow. My feelings have not wavered because of your confession. Let me bring something good back into your world.”

~~SSHG~~

His words were filling her with magic, a magic that sung to her heart. Hermione relaxed, looked into Severus’ eyes and said the word he longed to hear, “Please.”

In less than a second, Severus leaned into Hermione, grasping her neck with his right hand and drawing his face to hers.

His lips were still gentle. They were thin, but his mouth out scaled hers. His first touch encapsulated both of her lips. As they remained closed he slowly pulled back, allowing his lips to drag across hers from outside to center.

He could sense her fear, but she seemed to have the courage to try. She was so alluring. Her eyes remained closed, and an angel’s melody came from her lips.

“Please.”

Her desperate entreaty pulled at his core, and he promised himself at that moment he would fix any transgressions that had marred her, body and mind. “Hermione, yes. Open yourself to me, love.”

With that Hermione leaned into the dark man, and he dragged her across the sofa to rest across his lap. He claimed her mouth once more – this time more daring, wetting her lips with his once acerbic tongue. She parted her lips and pressed against his mouth. Her nimble tongue stroked his teeth, then drew back, daring him to follow her lead.

The tingle of magic being drawn to magic was building between them. The pleasant vibrations began to thrum through them, and the stronger the kisses grew, the stronger the resonations became.

Severus pulled away, only far enough to look into her face. He saw no trace of fear or disgust, only passion. “Do you feel it, Hermione? Don’t deny this. Our magics sing to each other.”

Before she could respond, he pulled her close, leaning her back and taking command of their embrace. He bent over her, letting his mouth act out the feelings he wanted to share.

Hermione laced her fingers through his long black locks and pulled him hard to her. She was losing her breath, losing her body, losing her mind, losing her fear as she tumbled down this rabbit hole. Once more, she thrust into him, looking to stroke her tongue’s match and feel his magic’s vibration. This felt like heaven and aroused her more than her dreams ever had.

Severus pulled back once more. “Look at me, Hermione, yes. Do you see a wizard who would reject you? Tell me, love, do you want this as much as I do?”

The fear that had grasped her earlier was a distant memory. Hermione held Severus’ head in her hands, brought his face close and taunted him, “See for yourself.”

~~SSHG~~

The misery of the manor was nowhere to be seen within Hermione’s consciousness. He saw a woman, aroused, emotional, still slightly apprehensive, yet courageous enough to try. He saw her as she worshipped his mouth; he saw her as she sat next to him in companionable silence, and he saw her care for him when he was hurt and broken. These were not past remembrances. These were the fantasies of what was yet to come within her heart.

Severus followed the thread of apprehension, and she stood with her back to him. The mirror before her reflected the scar and its damage. For as alluring and unmarred as her back was, her reflection told another tale. A jagged swath of pink flesh bisected her torso. Instead of two breasts, Hermione carried one full breast and two almost-half orbs. She looked down at her feet in shame.

While still in her mind, Severus slowly reached to the left side of the body across his lap and rested his hand upon her damaged mound. The mirror Hermione tensed, looked away. Severus began to stroke her, cupping her breast in his palm through her heavy robes, letting his fingers tease her, gently kneading while exploring her flesh.

He filled her with his thoughts. “Hermione, let me worship you, my mistress. You are the most gorgeous creature I have ever seen. Allow me to care for you, Hermione.”

Mirror Hermione looked back at her reflection, then caught the eyes of the dark figure behind her. She smiled.