A Wish Fulfilled

Chapter Two – A Wish Fulfilled

Severus was sitting quietly on one of the work benches when he heard the knock. He just wished it wasn't Argus with a student; he really didn't have it in him to deal with school rules just before his upcoming demise.

"Enter."

The door was opened and a brown head emerged. "Professor, I..."

There was a short pause and he allowed himself to feel veritable panic. What could Miss Granger, of all people, be doing in his classroom after curfew? Surely it was some sort of emergency. Had the boy-wonder gotten himself killed?

"Yes, Miss Granger?" His voice betrayed nothing.

"I was wondering if I might come in." There. That was an easy way of getting started.

"Come in? Has something happened, Miss Granger?"

"Not happened, no. But I really need to speak to you, Professor."

'Surely it can wait until the morning', he was going to say, and then realised he wouldn't be there in the morning. "And is your head of House unavailable, Miss Granger?"

"It's not about school, it's... it's personal."

For a few seconds he doubted he had heard her correctly. What on Earth could she have to say... "Personal? And what, pray tell, could you possibly have to tell me that is personal?"

"Well, it would be an easier conversation, Professor, if I weren't standing at your doorway."

"Oh, very well, come in, but be quick about it. I truly do not have much time to waste. And neither do you, seeing as you're out past curfew and my decision regarding your possible detention depends entirely on the importance of your personal business with me."

He had infused the word "personal" with so much venom that she was rethinking her decision extremely fast. And then she remembered it might be the last time she saw him. And she got in, closed the door behind her and blurted "Iknowwhatyou'regoingtodotomorrow."

"What?"

"I know what you're going to do tomorrow." She repeated, not so rushedly. "About Voldemort."

He stared at her, his mouth slightly open. "And you are sharing this knowledge with me because?"

The silence stretched impossibly thin as Hermione tried to think of a somewhat safe way to convey her thoughts. In the end, it was the Potions master who broke it.

"Miss Granger, surely you did not come here risking detention only to say that one sentence and stare gaping at me like a fish out of water."

"You might die."

"Thank you ever so much for bringing that particular point to light. I'm sure I would never have come to such a conclusion if not for your brilliant insight. Now, will that be all, Miss Granger?"

She didn't know what possessed her, but one moment she was standing half a classroom away and the next she was in front of him, slapping him hard on the face.

"Why, you egotistical, self-centred BASTARD!"

Touching his own face in amazement, Severus was hard pressed to find something suitable to say. He felt she was so distressed – over what, he didn't know – that he shouldn't just punish her and send her on her way.

"A mostly correct affirmation, Miss Granger, but if you would be so kind as to tell me what prompted you to make it?"

Her voice was uneven now. "How can you... how can you be so casual about it? Have you no feelings? Can't you be a bit more considerate?"

"You expect me to speak considerately to you about the possibility of my own death?? What is going on, Miss Granger, and why are we even discussing this?"

And she was suddenly kissing him, a deep kiss he found himself responding to. He became fully aware in one painful instant that Hermione Granger was no longer a child. In fact, she was pretty much a woman. By the time he regained his senses, they were both breathless. For the second time in as many minutes, the Potions master didn't know what to say.

Hermione was exhilarated from the kiss. He hadn't rejected her outright, and that lent her the strength to continue.

"I love you." The minute the words were out, she knew them to be true. "I know it doesn't really matter to you, but I needed to tell you before you went. There. Now you have it. The nature of my personal business." A single tear ran down her cheek. "Do try to come back alive."

Severus was dumbfounded. It was too much, too suddenly, to deal with. How could one of the most promising witches Hogwarts had seen in his time stand before him telling him she loved him? And, most of all, how could he fight the growing desire to bring her lips back to his? He had become so proficient at overlooking his own needs that they seemed to be taking vengeance on him. Without even realising it, he touched his fingers to his lips. His tone was soft but stressed, only the tiniest bit embarrassed as he finally spoke.

"Well, Miss Granger, I'm flattered. Although I can't say I know what is expected of me after this revelation."

It was said without malice, though, and she took no offense. It was a much better reaction than she had ever hoped for.

"Nothing. Nothing is expected of you. I always knew it was one-sided, I just didn't want to regret not having told you. You'll probably disagree, but I would rather regret something I did than something I didn't do." She lowered her head and added quietly "Not that I regret anything I did here tonight. I won't bother you anymore. I know it sounds small, but good luck tomorrow."

She turned her back and made to leave. He could let her go and she wouldn't know how much her words had meant to him, how much they had warmed him inside.

If he died tomorrow, she never would. She was only seventeen; how could she love him? Her words replayed themselves in his head. 'I would rather regret something I did than something I didn't do.'

"Miss Granger... Hermione."

She turned, startled and amazed. Her heart fluttered in her chest. He had said her name, and he had said it with tenderness.

"Yes, Professor?"

Not even recognising himself, Severus crossed the short distance between them and held her hands in his.

"Hermione, I truly meant what I said. I am flattered. And although I cannot say I return your feelings, I have little doubt that, given time, it would be very easy for me to do so. If I were someone else, someone younger and less dark, I would take that feeling you so generously offer. You're seventeen, Hermione. You'll have plenty of chances at love, with men far worthier than myself. It is wasted on one such as I. And you are wrong, it does matter to me. In fact it matters more than I ever thought it could. Thank you." His heart contracted painfully. He could see her head drawing closer and simply couldn't turn away. Her words had awoken in him a complete awareness of his loneliness and a tremendous hunger for contact and affection, both of which she seemed so willing to give... Rational thought abandoned him and he got lost in her kiss and in a sea of emotion.

Hermione freed one of her hands only to pull him closer. It mattered to him, her love was important. She had been so prepared to be scorned, to give up, and, after all, it mattered.

They stood there, in the classroom kissing for a very long time, Severus so engrossed in it that he didn't mind to be seen so needy. Not by her, anyway. When they finally broke apart there was something akin to awe in his dark eyes. Hers were filled to the brim with tears.

"Don't you die tomorrow, don't you dare. Don't you dare."

"I'll do my best. If for nothing else than because you asked." He moved a brown curl from her face and smiled sadly. "Now you should get back to your dormitory. It's very late already."

The knowledge that his smile was meant only for her made her bold. She wouldn't let go, she would fight for him. It was fine to give up because she believed herself an annoyance, but not after what he had told her. He found her easy to love. And she somehow knew, with unerring certainty, that he hadn't been lying.

"Do you wish me to go? Not what you think is best – what you want. If you say you'd rather spend tonight alone, I'll leave. But I would very much like to be with you tonight."

Her smile seemed so inviting... By the Gods, she was wreaking havoc on his self-control with her naïve offer to stay for the night! She didn't quite grasp the implications an adult male would perceive – especially one so needy as himself. And he didn't trust himself enough not to try and seduce her – a thought which appalled him. Given her feelings, she would be easy prey.

If only he had chosen differently so many years ago... If only she weren't so young, if only he weren't so old, if only he weren't her teacher, if only, if only, if only. So many 'ifs'. He knew what he should do, he should lie. But he couldn't. There was a young woman in front of him who, until scarce minutes ago, he had regarded as nothing but a child, and an annoying one at that, on the rare occasions he had regarded her at all. Who had never been worthy of more than two minutes of his thoughts, and that only when considered in the Harry Potter frame. And who, he suspected, would refuse to leave them now that she had gained entry. Who, against all odds, loved him.

"I would enjoy your company tonight immensely." He answered, after a long pause. "But it would be unwise. I'll see you in Potions the day after tomorrow." There. That was better.

Her face fell, her shoulders slumped. In the barest of murmurs, she asked, "Is it me?"

He didn't understand the question, and it must have shown on his face because she elaborated with painful clarity.

"Is the thought of taking me to your bed too revolting, Professor?"

He would have blushed had all the blood in his body not decided to relocate itself elsewhere. Here he had been, trying to think of her as naïve, worried he might try to seduce her, and all this time she had been deliberately trying to coax out of him the very reaction he had been supressing. No, Hermione Granger was in absolutely no way a child. But she was still regretably his seventeen year-old student. His usually silky voice was hoarse.

"It is definitely not you, Miss Granger." Better, much better. He had reverted to calling her Miss Granger. That should reset the boundaries. "But surely you can appreciate the irony of the situation. Have you not just addressed me as 'Professor'? That alone should make all the reasons I have against accepting your offer apparent. I am not only more than twice your age as I am also your teacher."

Her confidance reasserting itself, Hermione played her last trumph. She leaned as if to kiss him on the cheek but moved past it, allowing her lips to brush his ear ever so slightly before whispering, her voice full of promise.

"Would it make it easier for you to make love to me if I called you Severus?"

He shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature in the dungeons. 'I would rather regret something I did than something I didn't do.' With a strangled sound, he knew he was lost. All pretence of restraint gone, he drew her to him in a kiss that spoke louder than words.

"Yes, Severus. Call me Severus."

---

Only now, that he actually held someone who loved him in his arms, could Severus apreciate how much he had missed it throughout his life. He wanted the night to be as special as it possibly could, for the both of them.

"Not here. Come with me."

Hermione took his hand and followed, but it wouldn't have mattered had he been leading her to the broom cupboard. As it turned out, it was his quarters that he took her to, saying a password that didn't even register in her mind. The Potions master lit the fire, lending a welcoming atmosphere to the bedroom. Although he struggled not to show it, he was extremely nervous.

She helped him out of his robe, then unbuttoned his shirt. When she saw his naked torso, though, her hand flew to her mouth to half-suppress a gasp and tears came to her eyes once more. His body was a study of pain, so filled with vicious scars it was hard to tell if he still had any unblemished flesh left. She knew that, for a wizard to have that many, it was necessary that whoever had given them had meant to. Magic could heal almost anything and, when it came to scars, there was only two types that it couldn't: the rarest one, Harry's, had happened when there was an unexpected surge of evil power aimed at him that had gone wrong; the second type, the one she was sure she was now seeing, was linked to a curse conceived specifically to prevent any magical attempt of removing them. A cruel curse, designed for the sole purpouse of ensuring the victim would never forget whatever punishment had been inflicted. There was no known counter-curse.

Misinterpreting her reaction, Severus closed his eyes in shame. He had been so engulfed in tonight's events that he had forgotten... how could he have forgotten? It served him right. If he hadn't been so weak, if he had sent her away, he wouldn't have had to deal with her disgusted reaction. He had known ever since the week after his 'return' to Voldemort that he wasn't to be seen. Resorting to his familiar method of defense, his voice was ice cold, his eyes still closed shut.

"I trust you can find your way back to your dormitory Miss Granger."

Now that she had been near an ungarded Severus, even if only for a little while, Hermione could see through his façade. In his vocabulary coldness was another term for pain. She placed her arms around him and tried to kiss him, but he turned her away.

"I do not need pity, Miss Granger, now GO!"

"It's not pity! Please, it's not pity, don't send me away. I want to be with you because I love you, not because I pity you. I know what it must have seemed like, but it isn't like that, please. Let me stay with you tonight." She had stopped being able to control her tears and was speaking extremely fast, anything to keep him from telling her to go. Especially when she was sure it would destroy him to think someone who had claimed to love him had been relieved to leave his presence. Especially on a night such as this.

He opened his eyes to look at hers. She seemed so honest... but how could he be sure it wasn't that damned Gryffindor nobility preventing her from walking away? He sounded more human this time, less cold.

"Hermione, I will be alright if you go. There is no need for you to..." And she started gently kissing his shoulders, his back, his chest and he knew he was undone. He closed his eyes once more, this time to better be able to feel. She was kissing parts of him that he would have sworn up to that instant were capable of feeling nothing but pain. Then her lips came up to meet his and her arms enfolded him, reassuring.

"You're the only one I want to be with. I'm sorry if I made you think differently, I just never thought... It had never really hit me what you must have gone through. It makes me love you no less."

"I will put the shirt back on, to make you more comfortable," he said, matter-of-factly, picking it up.

Her heart shattered into a million pieces. His suffering ran so much deeper than what his body showed, to the point where he seemed to think himself repulsive... where it seemed only natural to him others would as well.

"Don't even dare." He couldn't hide the surprise in his eyes. "I want you completely, not by half. The whole of you."

There was a pool of emotion forming in his throat. He had taken her protestations of love as no more than a teenage fancy, an adolescent view of love at best. He let the shirt drop.

"You are the most amazing... you are wonderful, Hermione."

"Make love to me. Show me how."

"Show you... Hermione, have you never..?"

"No, I haven't."

"We can't." His tone was final, desperate. It was one thing to accept an offer to spend a one-night stand with a beautiful willing young woman, but quite another to take her virginity.

Hermione felt a wave of panic wash over her. He could die tomorrow and she would have missed her last opportunity to be with him. "Why? You said I could stay."

"I'm not sending you away. We can talk, you can sleep here if you want, but not that. You cannot give me that, Hermione, it's too precious. Too precious for me. You would regret it later. Save it for someone who can make you promises of love and starlit nights. Even if I loved you I could never be like that."

"I don't care for starlit nights any more than you do. The only thing I know is that I love you and that I want it to be with you." Her voice changed, acquired a mischievous tone and she smiled. "So, please, Professor, teach me."

---

The first rays of sunlight found Severus still awake. Hermione had fallen asleep not more than twenty minutes ago, cuddled up along his body like she had been made to fit there. It had been the single most rewarding night of his life. Making love to her... feeling her body shudder with pleasure and having the disconcerting sensation that it was all his doing... And, almost in the end, realising that, regardless of what he had told her, he did love her. And then talking all night, revelling in the feeling of having found a soul that was kindred to his own, the same desire to know, the eagerness to learn. He felt his eyes wet with unshed tears. It was time to go and, for the first time, it was important for him to make it through alive. Dark and old he might be but, if she did love him, nothing would keep him from her. Particularly because, if he did come back, then Voldemort would have been defeated and that shadow would have stopped looming over him. He would be free.

He tried to disentangle himself from her without waking her, but she opened her eyes.

"Severus?"

"It's time. I have to go."

"Please be careful."

"I will."

A few minutes later he emerged from the bathroom fully dressed. Hermione's expression was anxious.

"I need you to know something."

"What is it?"

"Last night... I knew what I was getting myself into, I knew the terms. And I don't regret it, it was worth every second. I just thought you should know that I know where my place is. I won't bother you when you come back."

Before she could say another word she was in his arms being thoroughly kissed.

"No, you don't. You don't know a thing. You don't know a thing, love. If I come back, if you still persist on this foolishness of loving, of all people, me, I will do my best to please you. Because I love you too, I didn't know it before, but I love you. I had never thought I could feel... this. I will be yours for as long as you'll have me."

Placing a last kiss on her disbelieving lips, he was out of the door as quickly as he had come to her.

---

Amazing how little the Potions classroom had changed in two and a half years of being led by a different person, Hermione mused. Maybe it was because she liked to think Severus would be coming back to take over it again. The same reason why she hadn't accepted being Potions teacher and insisted on using the prefix 'temp' with that title. He would come back one day to take back what was his. Hopefully that would include her. So she was a 'substitute', a 'temporary', not bearing the thought that his shoes would be permanently filled. They had never found the body, so he had to be alive, right? Even if Sirius did have reported that he had seen Voldemort hitting Severus with a green light from his wand, the final act of evil from a petty being. A body would have given her some closure, but there was no body. The plan had worked, everyone had come back safely... everyone but Severus. But, she stubbornly insisted, the Killing Curse had never been known to evaporate the body: it could not have been Avada Kedavra. It could not. For the sake of her sanity, it could not.