Chapter 7: Anything

CHAPTER 7: ANYTHING

Hermione slid into the seat across from Snape. He looked up at her, relief written across his face. It was like he had just stabbed her in the heart. He had been worried for her when she didn't show up at the café the previous day? Hermione felt an overwhelming urge to kiss him. Instead, she said, "I'm sorry."

"You look upset. You weren't ill, were you?" His black eyes scrutinized her, taking in every detail of her appearance.

"No, I wasn't ill. Ron drank one of my phials of Fritz's Blood Thinner."

"And is he well?"

"Yes, he's fine now."

Snape closed the book he had been reading. "Did you finally tell them the truth?"

"Yes," she said in a voice thick with unshed tears.

Hermione dropped her head to stare down at her lap while Snape watched her. She couldn't bear his intense gaze, yet almost cried out in distress when he stood to leave. His hand appeared in her line of sight, and she looked up to see him towering above her.

"I'd like to show you something," he said softly. "Will you come with me?"

"Of course," Hermione agreed, slipping her hand into his. He led her out of the café and gently pulled her down the street to his flat. All she could do was relish the giddy feeling she got from holding his hand. Tears were now the furthest thing from her mind.

Snape didn't release his hold on her until they arrived at his door. Slowly, he unlocked the flat and turned the knob. Hermione stepped into the dark room and waited for her eyes to adjust while Snape strode across the bare floorboards to turn on the single lamp across the room. He turned around, walked into the small kitchen, and hit a switch by the refrigerator.

The yellow light shown down upon an old cauldron. Several books and ingredients in different levels of preparation lay strewn about the counter.

"What is this?" Hermione asked, stepping into the kitchen to look down into the bubbling cauldron.

"I hope it is your cure," Snape replied from over her shoulder.

Hermione spun around to face him, realizing he was only inches from her body. "I...how did you...I mean, why are you doing this?"

"That's not important. The potion will be ready to test tomorrow morning."

"Is it a blood thinner?"

Snape shook his head once. A strand of hair fell out of the twine tying it back, and he absently tucked it behind an ear. "It should counteract the curse itself, not the symptoms. It was what I intended to write Healer Gnecco about, but I do not trust the staff at St. Mungo's to properly prepare such a delicate brew. I can make no promises, but I have hope it will work."

"How did you pay for this? These ingredients were expensive. Let me repay you."

"There is no need."

"But..."

He scowled at her. "I sold my mother's wedding ring. It provided me with more than enough money to purchase everything I needed."

"Weren't you seen?"

"I paid a young boy in Knockturn Alley to procure the items for me. He had no idea who I was."

"You shouldn't have done this."

Snape frowned down at her, but the stern look never reached his eyes. "I won't watch you die, Hermione. If that means I'll have to reenter the wizarding world, then so be it."

"But your mother's ring...you shouldn't have sold it."

"It meant little to me. To be perfectly honest, you mean more to me than that ring ever has."

Hermione reached behind her to grasp the counter for support. "I...I don't know what to say," she said in a breathy voice.

Snape tilted his head as he watched her. "A simple thank you would suffice."

He looked so vulnerable and accessible in that moment that she could not contain herself. Hermione lunged forward and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she murmured into his ear while she stood on the tips of her toes.

Snape's initial tension melted, and he leaned into her embrace, wrapping his arms around her. She sighed when she felt his fingertips press into the flesh of her back. They stood like that in the kitchen for several minutes, wrapped in each other's arms.

Hermione pulled back slightly and felt Snape's arms tighten around her waist. "You are definitely the most amazing person I have ever met," she whispered, pressing a kiss on his cheek, daringly close to the corner of his mouth. She let her lips linger on his warm flesh, her breath coming out in small puffs across his face.

Slowly, Snape turned his head to lightly brush his lips over hers. When she did not resist, he kissed her, his entire body trembling with restraint. She accepted and returned the kiss with eager lips, cradling his face in her hands.

Abruptly, he broke away, forcefully pushing Hermione back. "I shouldn't be doing this."

"Why?" Hermione was breathless from the kiss, her world slightly askew from his passion.

Snape ran a hand roughly through his hair, pulling it out of the low ponytail. "I...I just shouldn't. I'm taking advantage of your friendship."

"You'd only be taking advantage if you were using me as a replacement for someone else," she murmured, afraid to say the words aloud and unsure of what his reaction would be.

His eyes locked with hers, his shock quite evident.

"I saw all the memories. I know about Lily," she explained. She knew he was aware of that fact, but he had never actually acknowledged it to her.

"You are not Lily," he said.

"No, I'm not."

"Your hair is the wrong color, and it is far too unruly. Your eyes are brown, not green." He stepped forward and brushed a single fingertip down her nose. "Your nose is the wrong shape...turned up a bit too much at the end. Your lips," he said, running that same finger over his bottom lip, "are too full. And your hips are too slender." One corner of his mouth turned upward as he looked down at the ground between them. "And your feet are much too large. Lily had very small feet."

Hermione tried to smile at him. "Thanks," she said in a dry voice.

"You're bossy, demanding, and so very persistent. Lily was kind and gentle and patient."

"Are you trying to run me out of your house?"

Snape chuckled and stepped into her body, pressing her back against the edge of the counter. "And yet... And yet, I still feel drawn to you." His eyes were dark and shining with light that went beyond the reflection of the sallow illumination of the fluorescent bulbs overhead.

She swallowed and placed her hands on his chest. Beneath the shirt, his skin felt like it might be on fire.

"You and Lily are alike in so many ways, yet always by different methods. And yet, you are nothing like her. Nothing at all."

"What are you trying to say?" Her voice was rough and unsure.

"All my life I measured any woman I met by Lily. None of them came close to being her, and I found I still lived in her shadow, even fifteen years after her death. No one could be her, so I couldn't be with anyone."

Hermione tried to pull away from him.

"Please let me finish," he whispered, blocking her escape. Once she turned her gaze back up to him, he continued. "You are nothing like her, and I love it." He lifted a hand to cradle her jaw in his palm, absently rubbing his thumb gently over her cheek. "Do you remember that day you came to the market and bought biscuits? You waited for my shift to end so we could eat the sweets on the bench outside."

Hermione nodded, watching him with a sense of awe, her stomach performing acrobatics just beneath her skin.

"I don't ever think I've felt happier than that day, at least not in the last twenty-five years. I felt like we were friends."

"We were...I mean, we are."

"I've not had many friends, as I'm sure you know. As someone I care about, I could not watch you die. You're a much better person than I will ever be, and I assure you, I would take that curse out of you and into myself if it would save you."

Hermione swallowed the lump forming in her throat and blinked away the tears. "I wouldn't let you do that because I care too much about you," she whispered, fondling one of the buttons on his shirt.

"After that day...the day we had the biscuits...I no longer thought about Lily while we were together. She began to feel like a distant part of my past, and I thought dwelling in the past would be silly when I have a beautiful, intelligent young woman in front of me. Sometimes you would look at me and smile, and I would feel like I'd lose my mind for you. 'Lily, who?' I'd think."

Hermione chuckled and pressed her forehead against his collarbone. Her wet eyes deposited little spots of moisture on his black shirt.

"I'm very well aware that you are not Lily, Hermione. I would never use you as her replacement, especially since you'd be so abysmal at it."

Playfully, she pulled away and punched his shoulder. "Prat."

Snape caught her fist and pulled it up to his mouth, kissing the back of her hand. "I have lost my mind," he murmured. "I've turned into a simpering fool."

"I think you're quite charming."

He smiled. "Shall I quote you poetry, now? Just to debase myself a bit more? Some Byron, perhaps? 'Oh! By my soul, I see thee yet, with eyes so languid, breast so fair, and lips, though silent, breathing love.'"

When he opened his mouth to continue, he found he could not utter a word. Hermione's lips pressed against his, her tongue flicking timidly over his own tongue. Snape groaned and wrapped his arms around her again, pulling her against him and lifting her onto the counter.

"The ingredients," she mumbled against his mouth.

"What?" he asked, pulling back.

She laughed and shifted beneath his hands. "I'm sitting on something that very strongly resembles a Bezoar, though I can't say for sure."

Snape grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off the counter. His hands moved up to tangle in her hair as they kissed again. She felt light-headed and giddy with happiness as he ran his hands reverently over her body, tracing the curves beneath her bland Muggle attire.

"You should go before I do something you'll regret," he whispered in her ear.

"At this moment, I don't think you could possibly do anything I'd regret," she teased, sliding a hand down his abdomen to brush against the front of his trousers.

"Hermione," he warned, grabbing her hand and turning it away.

"Do you have a bed, or will we have to do this on the couch?"

His dark eyes flashed at her as he used his grip on her wrist to pull her into his body. "I didn't make my bed this morning. I'm quite ashamed." His voice was like molten lava running into her ear and down her neck.

"Making one's bed is a waste of time," Hermione said with a wink. "All your hard work is ruined at the end of the day when you have to crawl into bed to sleep or..."

"Or?" he asked with a devilish grin, pushing her toward the bedroom.

"Oh, you know..." She laughed as her back hit the closed bedroom door.

He reached around and turned the knob. They tumbled into the room. In the passionate rush to the bed, Hermione did note that his bedroom was as empty as his living room. There was only a small twin bed and a nightstand. His hands were pulling the hem of her shirt up her stomach and chest. She lifted her hands to allow him to take it off. Her jeans were discarded while she unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it to the side. Hermione fumbled with the clasp on his trousers while he did the same with the clasp on her bra. Eventually, they both succeeded and tossed the garments by the foot of the bed.

She squealed with surprise when he pushed her on the bed and followed her down on the thin mattress. "You're beautiful. I don't know what to do with you," Snape whispered in her ear.

"Make love to me," she replied, pressing her hips up into his. Taking advantage of the position, Snape hooked his fingertips into her knickers and dragged them over her raised hips and down her bare legs. Meanwhile, Hermione was concentrating on removing Snape's boxers. When he could wait for her no longer, he helped slide them down his narrow hips.

Before Hermione could even catch a glimpse of his naked body, he settled between her thighs. "Hermione..." he whispered, positioning himself at her entrance.

"Sev...Severus," Hermione cried out as he slid into her heat.

She clung to his arms and shoulders as he moved above her, filling her again and again. Her head was thrown back against the pillow, and his lips were pressed against the elegant column of her throat. His husky breath in her ear and the grinding of his hips into her own sent her flying into shuddering ecstasy. She faintly heard his soft, mumbled words.

"I'll do anything for you. Anything you want, Hermione."

Anything. The word held such weight when he used it. He had promised Dumbledore anything for Lily Potter's safety, and Hermione had known just how far that anything had extended. He'd nearly lost his life because of that promise. She was overwhelmed at the thought of him making a similar promise to her. Hermione looked up into his eyes as he lifted his face from her neck and realized what he had just said and how desperate he had sounded.

"Come for me," she whispered.

"Anything," he agreed, tensing in her arms as he spilled himself within her heat.

Hermione stroked the muscles in his back as he quivered from the release. She vowed that she would never use Severus like everyone else had, even if he had promised her anything.

Author's Note: Thank you to moonrevel and JenF for being amazing betas. The quote is Lord Byron (again) and is taken from 'Remind Me, Remind Me Not'.