Unrequited And In Sorrow

Thank you to those of you who requested an update of this story for Christmas. I am so very happy to comply. I hope you like this chapter, and Merlin willing, I’ll have 18 up soon as well. Merry Christmas!

Thank you to MadBrilliant and southern_Witch_69 for the beta read. Hugs, and my deepest gratitude. Good betas like you are worth their weight in Godiva!!

Unrequited And In Sorrow

~Summer 1977~

Severus stood a short distance from Lily’s house, checking on the wards he’d set on her house last Saturday. He hadn’t seen Lily yet and that worried him. He’d seen Petunia and Mrs. Evans coming home with bags from the local stores, but they’d gone straight into the house as if in a hurry.

Severus was delayed in his plans to set his wards on the house because he’d gone with Avery, Rosier, and Mulciber to the Lestrange house as soon as the train arrived at King’s Cross. A porter had met them to ferry the trunks to a large black car. The gathering at the old country house had seemed like a reunion of Slytherin house with several Ravenclaws, a few Hufflepuff purebloods, and even some Gryffindors, two who’d just graduated, mingling around the back garden, all drinking a strange punch.

Severus had been suspicious of the punch the moment Bellatrix Black had handed it to him, smirking and eyeing him speculatively. If he hadn’t been aware of her reputation and hadn’t been told she was engaged to Rodolphus, he’d have sworn on Salazar’s grave the woman had been flirting with him. Nevertheless, Severus had only pretended to drink the punch, slyly spilling some of the liquid on the grass and deftly switching his glass with an empty one as a house-elf passed by. When the others joined in the party, Severus had acted drunk, mimicking the actions of his housemates.

When the Dark Lord arrived, Severus had to fight down his initial reaction of revulsion. The wizard who’d entered the garden in long, sweeping, dark green robes had been like no man he’d ever seen before. His face and hands had looked deathly pale, almost white with a moist, waxy appearance, and his facial features had seemed oddly distorted. But the eyes, his eyes had been red. It had looked to Severus, who’d had his own eyes bloodied from beatings, that the wizard had recently suffered an injury to both eyes. Except the Dark Lord’s eyes had intensity and focus, an intelligence that had shown though the strange redness.

The Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort, had spoken to the collected guests as if they would all become close personal friends. He had answered questions and had listened to each teenager as if they had been saying something of vital importance. Several of the young men had been drawn aside with several of the Death Eaters in attendance; for what, Severus could only extrapolate. His friends had been more than eager to be drawn away, returning with satisfied smiles. Severus had wondered if he’d be asked to follow the robed men into the grotto, but he hadn’t.

Later, as Severus had watched his friends itch their arms, he knew – they had joined. Lily had been right all along. The only reason Severus had stayed was so as not to rouse suspicions. But as the evening had progressed and the party grew rowdy, the talk around the house and gardens turned to more sinister topics: Muggle baiting, Muggle inferiority, putting Muggle-borns and Muggles in their place, showing Muggles that wizards were superior, removing Muggle-born and Muggle infiltration and influence from wizard society, and purging the Muggle-born and Muggle contamination of the pureblood of wizard kind. Severus had been worried, wondering if the reason he’d hadn’t been drawn aside was because his father was a Muggle, and relieved that he hadn’t been asked.

Severus desperately wanted to talk to Lily, to tell her he was sorry and that she had been right. He needed to see her, talk to her and listen to her advice. He sat outside her house, blending in with the shadows and waited.

As the sun started to go down, a crack, followed by a loud pop seconds after, broke the silence of the street. Severus saw Potter only moments before he saw Lily, his Lily, approach her house. Potter walked her up the path to the front porch and stood next to her for a while. Suddenly, Severus saw Lily hug Potter, and he was hugging her back, tightly. She let go first and moved back a little, but he leaned down, his face inches from hers, nearly nose to nose. Lily turned her head slightly and pulled away, a smile on her lips. Potter’s hand moved to her face, gripped her chin and made her look up at him.

The next moment they were kissing. Kissing. He was kissing her. His Lily.

Lily wasn’t struggling or trying to push him away either. She was holding onto his waist and letting him kiss her.

Severus felt sick. His gut clenched. His chest ached.

Without caring if anyone heard him, Severus Disapparated away for Avery’s house.

Hermione looked out the window at the Death Eaters pacing the pavement in front of Grimmauld Place. The Daily Prophet on the desk announced Severus had been made Headmaster of Hogwarts. She was so proud for him and worried. By all accounts, and of course from what Harry had said, Severus was a murderer. He killed Dumbledore. It unnerved her that there was no denying that he had. But his other actions that day were in complete conflict with what Harry insisted was true – that Severus had been in Voldemort’s side all along. He stunned Professor Flitwick so he couldn’t help, killed Dumbledore, nearly stunned Tonks, but saved Professor McGonagall. He helped me and I saw him help Luna. Neville said Severus helped him fend off Death Eaters as he fled the castle. By my count, Severus had fired curses at five Death Eaters during the battle, and yet he’d tried to prevent Professor Flitwick from fighting.

Hermione couldn’t untangle the events she knew about from the rumors and statements Ron and Harry were saying about the battle in Hogwarts. Even Bill, Remus, and Tonks had been talking surprised by Severus’s actions. I saw him assist Luna, hitting a fellow Death Eater as he dragged Draco from the castle. That was not a misfired spell – it was deliberate. Tonks said that Severus had fired a shot at her, but it had hit the Death Eater she was fighting purely by luck. Harry said Severus had prevented anyone from killing him when he’d followed them to the gates… but that was because he’d said that Harry was for the Dark Lord to kill – Voldemort wanted Harry for himself.

Her chest ached each time she thought about Severus. It was like a drug withdrawal that never gave her a reprieve. She remembered everything about him with perfect clarity: his expression each time she entered his office or their tower room. His intense stare just before he kissed her, and his hands, those glorious hands and how they had felt on her skin. At night in her bed, in the tub, or even in the library, she remembered the way he’d made love to her, each time surprisingly varied from the time before, and yet so passionate and so sensual. All she had to do was close her eyes and she could almost feel him again. It was so strong it nearly made her cry in frustration and longing.

Two more men in long black robes showed up on the pavement, catching her attention. They were arguing with the two who had been here all morning since dawn. She dropped the curtain, sure that Severus wouldn’t lead any of his Death Eater brethren to the house, even if he could. But he could come here to see me. Harry would try to kill him on sight, then again, so would Ron, but he could evade them. Then there is Kreacher. How would he react if Severus tried to get in the house? The mere thought of Severus slipping into the house unnoticed, entering her bedroom with the sole purpose of making love to her again, sent shivers of desire through her, a lust that was lately unquenchable.

Hermione opened her eyes. Thinking about Severus is not conducive to proper research of warding spells, disillusionment, or anti-tracking… and they have to be here somewhere. I remember Sirius saying something about it before… Determinedly, Hermione started pulling books down from the shelves and carried them to the desk. She had many things to work out and memorize, and she had no idea how long this house would remain a safe place for them.

As she had done on countless nights, Hermione stared out into the night and her mind wandered. She pulled her knees up tighter to her chest to fend off the cold, wrapped her cloak tighter about her, and wished she were in bed. In a bed, curled up next to a warm body, his arms wrapped around her, giving her a sense of security and peace she so craved. She longed for a bed, a real bed, with pillows, blankets, and quilts. She imagined being curled up in her imaginary bed with Severus and quickly shook her head before she once again got lost in that fantasy.

Instead, she pictured Ron, stretched out languorously on his cot, covers twisted around him as he tossed and rolled, and the thought nearly made her laugh. No, sleeping with Ron would be a battle over the covers. She sighed, her eyes sweeping over the white snow, covering the forest like a white down comforter. With a sigh, she imagined the comforter was real, covering her and her lover in warmth. His arms holding me tight against his lean body, his soft breath in my hair, his legs entwined with mine. The thought almost warmed her, even down to her toes. She closed her eyes for a moment to fully appreciate the warm fantasy, imagining rolling over to kiss Severus’ nose and jar him awake. As my fingers stroke his skin, tracing his pectorals, circling his nipples, fingering his chest hair and following the line of dark hair down his stomach… She could visualize his dark eyes opening and watching her, his body shifting so that she could glide her hand down to his penis to stroke the soft velvety skin, feeling him harden by her touch.

“Hermione?” Harry asked, shaking her shoulder. “Are you awake?”

“Blimey, Harry! Sorry. I think I dozed off,” she replied, stretching.

Harry sat down next to her. “No problem. I should take watch now any way. Get some real sleep.”

“Thanks,” Hermione replied, giving Harry the wool blanket and going inside. Ron was lying curled up in his bed, his covers all rumpled and twisted up with one of his legs exposed. Hermione slipped into her bag and tried to get comfortable. As she lay there, staring at the roof of the tent, her mind wondered again to Severus. Blimey! I can’t stop thinking about him. We had a fling for four months and three days, and I still crave him, dream about him, and miss him terribly. I wonder what he’s doing right now. Where he is. If he’s happy. She punched her pillow and tried to force herself to sleep, slipping back into the familiar dream of lying once again curled in Severus’ arms, only to see him rise to fire spells at her friends and the Death Eaters who invaded her dreams. She rolled over. She tried to control her dreams, only to have the same nightmare again and again. But her nightmares always started out the same: lying in Severus’ bed and passionately making love to a man she knew she’d never see again or, if so, would never have a future with.

Severus sat on the windowsill of their tower, sipping on Earl Grey tea. It wasn’t his preferred blend, but then every time he’d had a cup of his Broken Orange Pekoe lately, the flavor only reminded him of Hermione’s kisses. He sighed, remembering the excitement she’d had with each new discovery regarding their tower room. Her energy and exuberance was stimulating to him. No other student had her yearning for knowledge or her intellect. He smiled. Four months. For four months I knew the pleasure of her company, regardless of how I tried to dissuade her and drive her away. Well, I did at first. Her inquisitive nature and natural curiosity led her to me, and I took advantage of her in every way possible. And in the end she confessed to loving me – me, her snarky professor. She’s the first student I’ve ever even looked at that way – and she’ll be the last. To make sure, Severus had added his own wards on the barrier to the tower room just in case his reinforcing of the Repelling Charms on the tower entrances wouldn’t work.

Severus sipped his tea, grimacing at the taste. It was a superb blend, a favorite of most of the staff, but he missed his Orange Pekoe. However, he just didn’t need the reminders of how lonely the castle was now that Hermione was no longer attending school. Not that she’d have been allowed to. At least he didn’t have to teach Potions. No more dunderheads melting cauldrons, no more insipid questions, and no more explosions. No, he had a completely new set of problems this year.

He leaned back against the stone, gazing out at the brilliant sunrise. The colors were exquisite this morning, but his attention wasn’t on the view. He couldn’t help recall the times he’d been up in this room with Hermione, each morning he’d watched the sunrise, knowing that he’d have his way with her. Still, there had been differences between his times with Hermione and what he could remember of the days he’d shared this view with Lily. Sure, Lily had responded to me, but not with the passion and uninhibited reaction to my touch that Hermione had shown. Then there were the stolen moments in the corridors, recessed doorways, and alcoves. No, each time Hermione had been as eager and as passionate as she’d been in here. Lily was never as passionate with me outside of this room. Nevertheless, both girls had had the same inability to elaborate on their feelings for him, and both had snapped out of the spells the moment he’d confessed his love for them. It was like seeing a replay of my nightmare break-up with Lily when Hermione had been released from the spells. Severus finished his tea. Yet, still, she allowed me that one last time in the library…

Severus forced the memory from his mind, stood, and left the room, heading back to his office to prepare for the staff meeting he’d scheduled for before breakfast. This one had best be short. I don’t want any more trouble between Minerva and Alecto.

Severus descended the stairs to the large chamber at the bottom, thinking about Hermione’s chart. He stopped in the lower room and looked up at the stairs, partially hidden by Concealment Charms. It suddenly hit him; the allure of the tower was broken. He no longer craved the room above. It was simply a sanctuary, a hidden room no one else knew about. It was as if his own ensnarement by the spells had been broken. He left the tower, his robes billowing as he strode purposefully to his office. One thing is for certain, I no longer pine for Lily anymore.

He wondered where Hermione was, yet again. Wondering if she was all right and if she was still helping Potter. Of course she’s helping Potter! The idiot boy would be nowhere without her. If we have any chance of winning this, it will be because Hermione is behind Potter and for little other reason. He’d spoken to Dumbledore’s portrait, knowing now what those lessons were all about. Little good it will do Potter. Dumbledore should’ve had those lessons with Hermione as well. She’s the one who’ll be figuring everything out anyway. I should’ve set up a way to communicate with her… I just didn’t have the forethought to do so..

Hermione looked out the tent flap, wishing that he’d come back. She could hardly believe that he’d been so irascible, whiny, childish and down right insufferable. But he’d left; Ron had simply left because things were difficult. What did he expect? That Voldemort would have his Horcruxes on a map? Still, he’d abandoned her. First Severus, now Ron.

Hermione cried at night and frequently during the day. Not because what Harry probably expected, well, partly, but not only because Ron left, because she felt abandoned. Her worst childhood fear had been the thought of being abandoned, and this was real – he’d left. She tried to keep as quiet as possible so as not to disturb Harry, but Ron had been her first ever real friend and childhood crush. They had been through so much, and he’d abandoned them, just like Severus had abandoned her.

Hermione purposefully concentrated her thoughts on the only constructive thing she had – determining where Voldemort would have hidden his Horcruxes and what they might be. And on how to get the sword. Hermione was convinced that somehow Severus still had the sword. In true Harry fashion, he was convinced that Severus had it hidden or possibly had given it to Voldemort. Hermione wasn’t convinced he’d have given it to Voldemort, although she couldn’t persuade Harry. Of course, there was no way, short of the two of them storming the castle, for them to acquire it. Hermione had no idea how to reach Severus except by owl, and an owl could give their hideout away. Besides, they didn’t have an owl. Her only hope of news, of discovering what was going on with Severus and her friends, lay with Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black.

The portrait of Phineas was almost always out now, and Hermione tried to get information about what was happening at Hogwarts whenever the cantankerous man appeared, feeling slightly elated whenever he spoke about Severus. But the portrait was honor bound to serve Severus, and Hermione was reluctant to be too overt in asking about the sword – or anything of that matter. Headmaster Black revered Severus, expounding on his abilities as Headmaster with high regard and deference. Nevertheless, he did tell them that Severus was having difficulties. There were constant outbreaks of mutiny from some of the students. Ginny had been banned from being allowed to visit Hogsmeade, and Severus had reinstated some of Umbridge’s decrees specifically the decree of banning student gatherings of three or more, probably to discourage the reforming or Dumbledore’s Army. He’d also reinstated the degree regarding punishments, although stating that the Headmaster had the supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges. He also now had the power to alter any punishments, sanctions, or curtailment of privileges set by any professor as he saw fit.

Hermione watched the portrait as Harry asked him questions, wishing she dared ask the image to send a message to Severus, but decided it wasn’t worth the risk. If Severus had turned against them, against her, it was too great of a gamble. If he hadn’t, she could inadvertently expose him, and she couldn’t do that either.

At night, as Hermione sat in the dark gloom of the tent, she closed her eyes and reminisced about her mornings in the tower with Severus. She could imagine his hands, his kisses, and she stifled a moan as her knickers became wet. Rolling onto her back, she listened for any sounds that Harry was awake before sliding her hand into her knickers to relieve the growing need and frustration she felt. But try as she might, she was unable to achieve the mind-blowing orgasm Severus gave her when they’d been together. Giving up, Hermione rolled onto her side and wept.

Phineas returned to his frame and loudly cleared his throat.

“So, where are they?” Severus asked without looking up.

“Hard to tell. The insipid girl had the audacity to defile my canvas with a censurer band. It covers my eyes so that I cannot see anything,” Phineas snarled venomously.

“Did you really expect her to do anything less? They’re in hiding, in case you’ve forgotten, and they don’t trust me.” He set down his quill and looked up at the portrait. “So, what was said this time?”

Phineas looked affronted but quickly recovered. “I told them about the decrees and about…”

“I’m not interested in what you told them,” Severus interrupted him. “What did they ask you?”

“They want to know what is happening at school,” Phineas stated, and Severus nodded, urging him to continue. “About the uprising of the students – they wanted to know which students. The boy was most curious about the Weasley girl.” Severus nodded again, and the portrait felt emboldened. “They want to know if anyone had tried to break into your office, either before or after the failed attempt of those hooligans, Weasley, Longbottom, and Lovegood. The girl was most curious if anyone had stolen a book, and the boy wanted to know about the Sorting Hat and the sword. I told them they are still here, safe and secure, and that no one could steal from you with all of us watching over the office…”

“You are sure Miss Granger asked about a book?” Severus asked.

“Absolutely. She specifically asked if you or anyone noticed any missing books,” Phineas stated. “She was also very curious to know if the Carrows entered your office or if there were Death Eaters in the castle. She tried to get me to tell her if you were summoned anywhere, but I told her that wasn’t any of her business, and I wouldn’t tell her about your private affairs. I am honor bound to serve the Headmaster of this school, not some dawdling teenager who steals my portrait from it’s…”

Severus steepled his hands in from of his mouth, his own thoughts drowning out the painting’s ranting. A book… if someone had stolen books from the office. I shall have to check the office inventory then, make sure that all the books are still here. Or have the Weasley and Lovegood girls do it for me as a detention. Hermione wouldn’t have been concerned about a book unless she knew it was a book of importance… Or unless she took a book – or Dumbledore gave a book from the office. Harry’s question about the Hat and sword, that’s obvious. I know the boy needs the sword, but how am I to get it to him if I have no bloody way of knowing where he is? “But you have no idea where they are. You didn’t hear any unusual sounds, or hear anything that would give me a clue so I can find them?”

“I couldn’t see anything that would be much help. The chintz chair wasn’t facing anything I could recognize,” Phineas answered affronted by the question.

“Yet, you could see a chintz chair? What did you see that you couldn’t recognize?” Severus said smoothly.

“Well, I couldn’t see much with the censurer band on my canvas,” Phineas started to say, and Severus gave him an angry scowl. “All right.” He began describing the inside of the dwelling, speculating that what he saw was possibly a tent, adding all the detail he could recall seeing with relish.

“And if you could see the dwelling, did you actually see Potter and Granger?” Severus asked, carefully suppressing his impatience.

“I could see little bits of them when I moved, but…” Phineas started to say, but Severus’ scowl darkened. “The girl looked thin and haggard. She looks as if she’s not sleeping very well, and her voice is worn and tired. The boy didn’t look any different at all from any other time I’ve seen him, but she looks like she hasn’t been eating very well.”

Severus suddenly picked up on the fact he’d only mentioned one boy. “Did you say boy – as in only one boy? Which one?”

“The Potter boy,” Phineas stated.

“No red-headed boy?” Severus asked, his right hand clenching into a fist.

Phineas stroked his beard, as if thinking. “Nope. He had a snit about there not being any food and that he was sick of the girl’s cooking. I think he stormed off and left them…”

He left her! The Weasley brat ran out on them? Severus turned and looked up at Dumbledore’s portrait. “Dumbledore, wake up and come to the other painting. I need to talk with you,” he demanded sharply and stormed from the office to his room, stopping barely long enough to make sure Dumbledore took notice.

Dumbledore was waiting for him in the scenic painting in his sitting room. “What is your concern, Severus? You knew that Miss Granger would follow Harry and assist him with his mission.”

“Did you hear what Phineas just said?” Severus asked, pacing in front of the frame.

“Yes, every word,” the image of Dumbledore said. “I wouldn’t worry, he’ll find his way back.”

“How can he find them, Dumbledore, if I can’t?” Severus asked, stopping to look at the image of Dumbledore sitting comfortably on the painted park bench. “Phineas tells me that they relocate their campsite, constantly.”

“I made sure that in such a case, Mr. Weasley would always be able to return to them,” Dumbledore replied. “Our real concern is for you to find them, Severus, and before it’s too late.”

“I am trying!” Severus said. “But they are careful to keep their location secret, and even when Phineas thinks he’s figured it out – I can’t find them. Apparently, Miss Granger has learned a few warding and camouflage spells during her copious amounts of spare time when she was here and is using them quite effectively.”

Dumbledore beamed happily back at him. “Yes, she really is quite the little witch, isn’t she?”

Severus had noticed two things that were very different this year: one, Potter and Black had stopped picking on him, so the fighting had stopped. Two, Lupin was actually trying to be friendly, and three, Lily was now hanging around Potter and Black almost exclusively. She was working with Black in Potions and teaming up with Potter, Black, and Lupin in Charms and Herbology. She was in the clutches of Potter in the corridors. In addition, even his friends noticed that Lily was now apparently seeing Potter. In fact, Lily and Potter had been caught snogging a few times in old classrooms and unused corridors. Okay, that was actually seven, but admitting it only made Severus clench his jaw in anger and want to blow something up.

He still followed Lily around when he could and was becoming quite stealthy about it, but she had either been going to meet up with Potter or to the library to revise. Wherever she’d gone, she had been joined by Potter most of the time. Lily and her friends, Leanne and Deborah, were frequently surrounded by Potter, Black, Pettigrew and Lupin. By the time Halloween had come and gone, Severus was repining more and more over Lily and really struggled with the anger he felt seeing her arm in arm, laughing, with his loathed enemy.

The only place he felt any reprieve from his distress was up in his tower room. Of course, Lily never came up there anymore, but the view was calming and serene, even if the room brought back painful memories each time he went. His emotions warred within him, the confliction he’d refused to admit to or recognize while he and Lily had been together were becoming clearer. Lily had never really been affectionate towards him, not like she was towards Potter or his friends. Lily had not really shown him any passion when they’d had sex, it was mostly one-sided – his side, although he knew that she’d enjoyed every minute of it.

Each time the door opened easily for him made his chest ache. The Baron’s warning not to confess his love to her repeated in his mind each time he left the room. The warning was like a knife that twisted in his gut now each time he witnessed Lily kissing Potter or each night when he dreamed of making love to Lily in his sleep. He couldn’t get her out of his mind or his heart. He felt like he was sinking into emerald green pools of ice water every time he thought about her.

Worse, his Patronus was changing. The huge hawk now had four long legs and an arched neck with a delicate head. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear it was becoming a doe.

Hermione strolled in the snow, looking for golden crisps and juicy berries, foraging like a bear in the woods. Her basket was full, but she knew that winter was coming and that food would be scarce. A pair of warm, firm hands took hold of her arms and pulled her up against a firm, familiar body. His warm lips caressed her neck, and Hermione tilted her head to give him access, craving his touch more than anything else in the world. Her robes seemed to open effortlessly as she turned to embrace him, wrapping her arms around his bare torso under his cloak. The dark material surrounded her, engulfed her in his heat and scent as his hands caressed her body. His kisses and his touch were welcomingly familiar and so very needed to make her feel warm and alive again. He spoke no words but she knew exactly what feelings finding her nude in the woods evoked in him. Gently, he laid her down on her bed as his kisses roamed down her flesh. She was reciprocating, passionately, touching and stroking his body in return. His hard penis was inside her, his mouth sensually pleasuring her on every sensitive spot, and the crunch of boots on the snow…

Hermione woke, startled by the sound of something walking past the tent, fully aroused and cursing silently. Every night was the same. Her dream Severus came to her, made love to her, sending her to new heights only to have the dreams shattered by the sounds beyond the tent walls. Hermione reached down to touch herself in desperate efforts to finish what the dream Severus started, but even though she could reach climax, it was never the toe curling, earth shattering, melt every bone in her body kind that Severus could give her.

She mentally fantasized about seeing Severus enter the tent to watch her, knowing that Harry was right outside, knowing that she’d have to be quiet. Her orgasm came in soft rippling waves that made her turn and moan into her pillow. Still unsated, Hermione curled up on her side and wished to see Severus one more time. Please, Circe, Merlin, God, any of you, please, just let me hear his voice and feel his kiss… just one more time.

Severus stood in the snow, berating himself. His Patronus, which had been a doe for twenty years, had changed again. When he’d tried casting it, it had resumed to his original hawk form. He had to forcefully focus all of his thoughts and emotions on his strongest memories of Lily in order to make it morph into the silver doe Potter might recognize as being similar to his mum’s and follow without question. However, it had taken him several tries before the doe-shape emerged from his wand, and he’d almost missed his window of opportunity that the boy would even see it. The concentration it had taken to maintain the Patronus forced him to recall every possible memory of Lily that Severus had buried, every fantasy, all the ones he’d wanted to forget. But he needed both Potter and Weasley to come to the pool, Potter first, in order for the plan to work. So far, this was proving to be far more difficult to execute than he’d planned. Finally, Potter saw the doe-shaped Patronus and was following it, crashing and stumbling through the forest with complete disregard to his surroundings. Severus shook his head. Arrogant and reckless as ever. It’s a wonder you’ve survived this long. Don’t worry about vigilance. There couldn’t possibly be a Death Eater within a hundred miles of you! By all means, throw caution to the wind.

Severus was sweating by the time Potter finally reached the pool of water.

Severus waited.

Potter stared into surface of the water as if willing the sword to rise out of it. “Accio sword.”

Leave it to a Gryffindor to try the obvious! Why do all Gryffindors act without rationalizing out the situation and behave illogically? Severus turned his attention away from the idiot boy. He tried to produce the doe Patronus again, this one for the Weasley boy. It was a difficult strain to produce a strong enough doe-shaped Patronus to send to Mr. Weasley, but without him the entire mission would fail. He glanced over his shoulder at Potter, who was still trying to work out how to obtain the sword.

Do something, you idiot boy! It won’t come to you – you have to go get it! He wanted to shout at Potter, but couldn’t. He watched impatiently, amused at Potter’s reluctance to get wet. Potter would have to swim for the sword, actually go down into the icy depths of the pool.

Finally, Potter removed his shoes.

Severus looked up and scanned the trees. The Weasley boy didn’t appear.

He knew that Weasley was near, he’d seen him only a few minutes ago, but at the moment he couldn’t see or hear the boy.

Severus watched as Potter stripped. “Diffindo,” he said loudly, apparently still unable to cast a nonverbal spell. Severus waited as Potter wadded into the in the knee-deep ice-cold water and tried simply reaching for the sword. Severus sneered, watching the boy as he rationalized and contemplated the problem he faced. You have to go down and get it, you dunderhead. Potter sank up to his shoulders in the pool. But Potter wasn’t the one destined to retrieve the sword. The pool was cursed to pull him down and hold him underwater, and Severus was gambling that the Horcrux in the locket might fight Potter from getting the sword as well. Dumbledore had thought that the soul fragment in the locket might recognize the sword and would not want Potter to retrieve it. It was a gamble, he was putting Potter at risk, but there was little choice.

Potter finally dove under the water.

Severus cast the doe-shaped Patronus again, sending it to guide Weasley to Potter, and hoped the boy would follow it as blindly as Potter had. It was a huge gamble, and he hoped it would all work out as he’d planned. Dumbledore had said that in order to make the sword come to you, you had to have need of the sword to get it. Only someone who displayed the very traits of Gryffindor himself: bravery, courage, chivalry, or loyalty could yield the sword. So Weasley would have to pull Potter out, save Potter’s life and draw the sword at the same time. If the locket recognized the sword, Severus was hoping that the sword might recognize the locket for what it was – evil. He could have simply used Hermione and Potter, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so, and Severus was loath to alert anyone else to Hermione’s camping place, so this test of bravery, loyalty, and friendship was the best he could devise.

Potter had been under the water for a full minute already.

Severus looked up and realized that Weasley wasn’t in sight. The boy has been bumbling around in the trees for hours, looking for them and yet, he isn’t here? I was leading him right to Potter. How could he have gotten lost? He swore under his breath and was about to cast his Patronus again when Weasley came crashing through the trees. Weasley shed his outer clothes quickly and dove in. Severus had planned to wait only long enough for Weasley to dive in and save Potter, not wait until the boy pulled Potter and the sword out.

Nevertheless, Severus waited. He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until his body forced him to breathe.

Finally, the boys broke the surface, Weasley dragging Potter with him. Severus cast a silent Levitation spell to help Weasley pull Potter from the pool yet allowing Weasley the delusion that he’d heaved Potter out of the water one handedly. Severus watched to see if Potter would survive the test and let out a sigh of relief when Potter began choking and retching, expelling the water from his gut and lungs on the snow bank.

Good, they won the sword, and Potter is still alive. Before he turned to go, Severus spotted Weasley panting and coughing, noting that he was already staggering to his feet as he did so.

“Are – you – mental?” Weasley practically shouted at Potter.

Severus sneered at the question, turning to walk away. Dumbledore will be furious that I went ahead with the challenge I set for Weasley, but the ends justify the means, as the old man always said. They have the sword, won by Weasley’s chivalrous act and the need to destroy the Horcrux. The idiotic boy actually came through.

He’d had hoped to see a sign of Hermione, any sign to assure him that she was all right. He’d been tempted to place large salmon in the pool when he’d charmed it, but refrained. It would have appeared odd and would have alerted Hermione to someone’s presence, even if she couldn’t guess it was he and not someone with malicious intent. But that didn’t prevent him from backtracking Potter’s tracks to where they started, hopefully close to their tent, carefully concealing his footprints as he went. He looked around wistfully. Of course, there was no sign of her tent, not that he expected there to be. Amoris Aeterna Devotio Spreta Reiectaque Dolorem Aeternum Parit, Hermione, Love’s enduring promise turned away, refused, begets an everlasting sorrow… I feel it too, my love.

He left large slabs of chicken and steak transfigured into edible mushrooms where they would be easily seen and transfigured apples and oranges into berries on a bush nearby. Hopefully she wouldn’t question it and pick the berries. He knew that Hermione would recognize the fungus at least as the edible variety even if Potter and Weasley couldn’t. The nutritional value of the chicken, steak, apples and oranges would still be the same as if they’d eaten them instead of just mushrooms and tiny berries and should help nourish her body.

He scanned the space in front of him, knowing that Hermione was close, possibly close enough to hear him if he’d dare speak. I shouldn’t. She doesn’t trust me anymore. Any hope I had with her ended the night I killed Dumbledore. I’ve lost her. I need to make sure she’s okay, try and help her, but there isn’t anything more I can do at this time without raising suspicions. He closed his eyes a moment, trying to believe that he’d done something – anything that would prove he was still loyal, still loved her, still on her side. Had I known, I could have shown her how to Transfigure leaves into bread and cheese.

Severus cringed at the sound of the boys returning, thrashing through the trees as if they were returning to the castle after a Quidditch game and talking about the rescue as if it were a grand adventure. Silence, you idiots! You are in hiding. You are on every Death Eater’s wanted list, dead or alive, and only Potter has a ‘better be alive’ bonus reward!

Severus smoothly slipped into Disapparation, making as silent an exit as he could, appearing in an upstairs room in the Hog’s Head. He nodded to Aberforth as he entered the bar and ordered a glass of bourbon. Mission accomplished, he thought as he raised his glass to drink. However, it was Hermione’s face, her lithe body and her euphoric expression as she climaxed under him that filled his thoughts as he sipped his drink.

Severus was withdrawing from everyone, concentrating on his essays, revisions, and spell work. In his free time, he was researching new spells or revising them, altering them to fit his needs and adding as many spells as he could to his books. Every page of his books was covered with his tiny writing, on the margins and even in between the lines of text with his annotations of spells he’d taught himself or he’d altered in some way. Madam Pince had scolded him, rebuked him sharply for defacing his books, so Severus began placing Repelling Charms around him to make her leave him alone. Some of his more creative Repelling Charms even had strange side effects, such as drooling, or once her right eye became all wonky, and with another one it looked like she’d lost her depth perception and kept dropping everything, thinking things were closer than they actually were. But it served her right for lambasting him like she had.

He still attended the Slytherin Quidditch games and still went to Hogsmeade with his friends, but most of his time was spent revising or learning warding and concealment spells. At least with his attention rigidly focused on learning and creating spells and potions, he didn’t think about Lily all that much anymore. Except at night, when he was alone in his bed. He’d yet been able to force her from his dreams when he’d closed his eyes. So Severus was staying up later and later each night even though he was still waking at dawn. His friends had started teasing him about becoming a vampire because of the hours he kept. That was fine, the less sleep he allowed himself, the more exhausted he was before bed, and the less he reenacted his passionate moments with Lily in his dreams.

Avery and Rosier had tried, unsuccessfully, several times to get some of the Slytherin girls in their year to go out with him, but his attitude was becoming acerbic. He was slowly transmuting into a surly, snarling type, who took umbrage easily. Most everyone left him alone, except the few brave or desperate who wanted his help with a potion, either sanctioned or illicit. Severus would brew any request as long as the price was met and the ingredients supplied beforehand.

Several times Severus would see Leanne or Deborah in the corridors, but they scurried away from him like little mice.

He frequently saw Lily, arm and arm with Potter, but he’d lower his head and pretend he hadn’t.

He went up to his tower nearly every morning to watch the sunrise or to read.

Severus even gave up trying to prove Lupin was a werewolf.

And wherever he was, in the library, in the courtyard, or in class, there was Lily, sitting next to Potter. Lily, his Lily love, looking at Potter the way Severus had always wanted her to look at him. It infuriated him seeing Potter touch her hair, put his arm around her possessively, and worst of all, kiss her. Mulciber and Rosier had stopped teasing him about Potter stealing his girl, but Avery hadn’t. Once, when Avery had gone too far, Severus hexed him with his Extremus Gelidus, and Avery never teased him again.

~ T B C ~>

Author’s Notes:

According to the Astronomical definition, spring begins on March 21st and lasts until June 20th, or the vernal equinox in the northern hemisphere. According to this definition, therefore, the traditional mid-Summer's day is the first day of summer. By the Meteorological definition, spring starts on March 1st since this more in line with weather conditions thought to be typical of spring. The Phenological definition of spring relates to the blossoming of a range of plant species. It, therefore, varies according to the climate. Modern calendars typically use the Astronomical definition, but the Meteorological definition and Phenological definition are more in line with what we commonly consider as spring time. However, according to the solar term, spring begins on February 4th (as does this story,) and lasts until about May 4th. I’m assuming that, as a wizard, Severus is well aware of these different definitions of spring, and he is referring to the solar term for spring (February 4th) through the Astronomical (continuing into June) when referring to his time with Hermione.

The Latin used is from: http://www.archives.nd.edu/cgi-bin/lookdown.pl A terrific site for anyone wanting Latin wording.

Extremus Gelidus:

Extremus = extreme cold!

Gelidus: cold , frosty, icy