In and Out of Time

18 - In and Out of Time

The silence remained, vaguely uncomfortable, as they reappeared in Snape's bedroom in the Granger home.  But what could she say, after all?  Trite, clichéd phrases were all that came to mind, and she rejected them instantly as cheap and false.  "Thank you" was silly.  "I'm sorry" was insincere.  There was nothing to fit her feelings; anything she could say would, she felt, damage what had happened.

She couldn't see herself as Severus did.  He watched the emotions flit over her open features, and now he knew better to construe them as pity.  Still, he could not find words to answer them, either.  He chose, instead, to close the distance between them and press a kiss to the forehead above those great, dark eyes.  They fluttered closed and she leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder.

A soft knock at the door interrupted their reverie.  'Hermione?" Amelia's voice called quietly.  "Are you back?"

The couple straightened.  "Yes, Mum," Hermione answered, advancing towards the door.

Amelia smiled as the door was opened.  'I just wanted to remind you that it's time to get dressed."

"It's that late already?"  Hermione stared blankly at the darkness outside the bedroom window.  She hadn't even noticed when they left the Snape estate.

"Yes, it's that late.  I'm surprised at you, Hermione; you usually have a much better sense of time."  Amelia teased her daughter, "It must have something to do with your state of mind."

"Mum..."

"You have half an hour, dear," Amelia remarked.  "I know you have faster ways of doing things, but there's not much time."

"Half an hour?"  Severus could almost see Hermione freeze in shock.  "I've got to run.  Severus, I'll be back once you've dressed to make any alterations."  She dashed out of the room and disappeared into the one she was sharing with her sister.  Amelia gave Severus a wicked grin and returned to her own room to finish preparing.  Severus closed the door with a relieved sigh.  He had heard rumors about women's fussing over their clothes and hair, long ago in his student days.  It didn't look like anything had changed over the last few decades and, in truth, he was rather grateful he didn't have to deal with it first hand.

The event, it seemed, was a New Year's Eve party hosted by the Granger's associates.  Hermione had attended for the past few years...primarily to please her parents, she had confided, since the thing was deadly dull.  She had mentioned it only the day before, having, she admitted, forgotten about it.  It wasn't something, after all, she would have expected him to want to go to, but as things stood now...  Well, it would be nice to have someone to talk to.  Half out of sympathy (oh, the number of Hogwarts parties and balls he had suffered through alone...) and half out of morbid curiosity, Severus had agreed to go.  He had brought formal attire, but they agreed that Hermione would make adjustments to create something passable for a formal Muggle soirée.

Some time after he had finished his own toilette, Hermione rapped on the door and, at his answer, entered.  Severus stared.  He had seen her formally dressed before, but never in the Muggle fashion and certainly not when thinking of her as a woman grown.  She stood before him now, stately in a gown of rich blue satin, her hair mysteriously tamed and piled upon her head.  Sapphires gleamed at her ears.  She carried herself, he thought, like a queen.  Indeed, a woman grown, ready to take her place, able to face even the likes of Narcissa Malfoy and the other grandes dames of Wizard society.  And then she smiled at him and he could again see the Hermione he knew...and loved.

"There's not much to change," she mused, and for a moment, he could not think what was to be changed in the first place.  She circled him.  "Just wear your coat instead of the formal robes; I'll change the cut of that and your waistcoat."  She grinned mischievously at his worried expression.  "Don't worry," she assured him.  "I've done this for years and never yet lost the original garment.  Madam Malkin was happy to show the poor Muggle child a few tricks to keep herself properly dressed."  Snape nodded his acquiescence, albeit with a sceptical twist to his expression.

Hermione frowned slightly as she visualized exactly what she wanted.  She rather wished she could put him in Slytherin green...it would probably make him feel a bit better...but green just made the man look even yellower than he already was.  As she closed her eyes and began her charms, she prayed he wouldn't object overmuch to what she had in mind.

When she looked again, he was dressed exactly as she had imagined.  She given him a style that was vaguely late Victorian, changing the cut of his coat only slightly.  The buttons and high collar were gone, though, as she shortened the waistcoat considerably and transfigured the collar into an unobtrusive cravat.  Hermione had also changed the color of the waistcoat from the original black silk into a very dark blue, just a hint of matching her own dress.

Severus frowned as he studied himself in the mirror.  Being without his actual robes was almost embarrassing; he kept looking for them, his hands itching to pick them up and put them on over these flimsy garments she had created.  His hair, too, was tied back and he missed the feel of it against his cheeks, hiding his profile from people he could not see.  He fought the urge to reach up and feel where it had gone to.  Perhaps, he thought, he should feel fortunate that formal Muggle clothing still possessed sleeves long enough to hide his wand.  Leaving it behind was by no means an option.  He realized then that Hermione wore long white opera gloves, one of which seemed to be slightly large.  It would appear, he thought approvingly, that Hermione felt the same.

Everyone (save Genie, who had been packed off to a friend's house earlier) was bundled into the car and off to the hall where the party was being held.  After a few introductions, the Grangers wandered off to do their socializing, leaving Severus and Hermione to their own devices.

She had been correct; the party was extremely dull.  The only advantage he could see, actually, was that here, at least, he did not have to stop teenagers from spiking the pumpkin juice or threaten to hex overly-hormonal couples.  Not to say that these weren't issues...Muggles and Wizards were apparently equal in their capacities...but he, at least, didn't have to deal with them.  What he did have to deal with were snotty teenaged brats who came to inquire and insult his date.  Still, he had over thirty years of experience in this area; while he still wanted to hex them, it wasn't a larger problem than, say, getting rid of bothersome mosquitos.  Besides, the company was worth the irritation, particularly as he could gaze at said company's cleavage.  Perhaps she could apply for early NEWTs...

Which brought him to a particular line of thought.  They still had time of course, but...

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"  She leaned back against the wall, appreciating the emptiness of the foyer they had wandered into.  She drew off her left glove, stretching her fingers in the process.

"What happens?"  Severus stood beside her, carefully watching her hands' movements.

"You'll have to be a little more specific, Severus," she said absently, wishing she could dare to take the right glove off, too.

"When we return to Hogwarts, I mean.  We have mentioned it before, but more along the lines of technicalities rather than realities.  If this was peacetime, we could simply follow the rules, but as it stands, Hermione, we have at least half-a-dozen other factors to consider."

Hermione's hands slowed, then stilled.  "I hate it when you're right about these things.  It's not just about school rules and student-teacher ethics.  It's about things like Voldemort and Malfoy and my friends and their responsibilities.  And ours."

"I want you to be safe, Hermione."  She had such small hands, really, with delicate fingers and slim wrists.

"I honestly don't see how this could endanger me any more than I already am."  She turned to face him squarely.  "I've had a target painted on my back since I was ten years old, Severus.  That won't change.  I... I've already killed because of it.  But I can't begin to imagine how your dynamics will change if this becomes known.  How will Voldemort...or Dumbledore...use this?  Use me?"

Snape turned away with a shrug.  "I cannot say, exactly.  With...the Dark Lord...it will depend greatly on how he perceives it.  I think that I would have to portray you as a mouse, something I play with in order to gain information and control.  I have...somehow...seduced you and plan to use you somehow against Potter.  Affection does not enter into His plans, unless it is to be twisted and used.  I would not give him that tool against us.

"I don't want that for you, Hermione."

She sighed.  "None of this situation is particularly ideal, Severus.  All we can do is work with it.  Do you really think we can keep this quiet?"

He paused, seriously considering her question.  The music from the ballroom drifted around them.  "I think it's possible.  I certainly wouldn't want to be... demonstrative, in any case.  We could connect my rooms with yours so we could spend time together in the evenings..."

"Which would be the only time we'd have together anyway," she finished, frowning thoughtfully.  "That's a point.  I just...  I don't like going behind people's backs.  It could be so much simpler if we could just follow the rules."  Her hands played with the empty glove.

Severus gave a small snort of laughter.  "Following the rules hasn't been an option for you since you were ten, Hermione.  It's simply a matter of establishing our priorities.  I would prefer that you not be involved in my service to two masters.  Both will use you, use our relationship, without a second thought...Dumbledore no less than Voldemort."

"I know.  I don't like it, but I know."  She tossed her glove on a nearby table and took his hands in her own.  "It's just...  I love you, Severus Snape.  I want to be able to shout it from the rooftops if I feel like it.  I want to be able to walk down the hallway with you or into Rosmerta's on a Saturday afternoon."

He felt... beyond words at this point.  She had said before that she loved him, but it was still so new, so unexpected, so... impossible.  For once, he gave in to a whimsical impulse, drawing his hands free and using his nimble fingers to pull the pins from her hair, causing it to tumble down her back.  She shivered at its feather touches against her shoulders.  "I want to be able to kiss you senseless," he murmured, drawing her close to him.  "I want to be able to lead you to my chambers and into my bedroom with no sense of guilt or shame or secrecy.  I want to be able to show the world that you are mine and only mine, because I love you with all that I am."

"Severus..."  She was intensely conscious of the hands at her waist, the black eyes that for once revealed his soul.

"I love you, Hermione," he repeated, "out of all time, out of all measure.  It isn't much, but all that I am is yours.

"And," he added, with a wry twist to his mouth, "if you tell anyone I said that, I'll be forced to hex you several times over."

"Severus!"  Hermione chuckled.  "All right," she agreed laughingly.  "I'll keep your soppy romantic side to myself.  Nobody'd believe me anyway."

"True."  He tucked the strands of hair that were falling forward behind her ears.  "But then, no one will believe that either of us would do this voluntarily."  He leaned forward to press what was at first a very gentle kiss to her lips.  As it deepened, both were vaguely aware of the sounds...first of the hall clock, then of cheers...that began the New Year.  As the cheers became 'Auld Lang Syne', they ceased to be aware of it entirely, their universe contracting to include only two people whose hearts and souls were merging.

- - - - -

_{ANs: Trying to bring myself up to date still... which is complicated because often I don't even want to look at this antique example of my writing. *-_-* (Seriously. The original publishing dates for this puppy were 2003-2007.) But, there's only the epilogue after this and then I can set it aside.}

The title of this chapter is from a poem by Maya Angelou, which she recites in the movie, Madea's Family Reunion. Links to both text and video are on my website, under the FFG extras. Beautiful and very apropos for our favorite pair.