A Curse Between Us

Always eager to learn, to solve problems, to find the answers to life's tough questions, researching subjects until she was completely satisfied had always been Hermione's forte. Never had she expected to be in a situation where receiving more knowledge would drive her mad. An information overload had simply never been conceivable. Until today.

Severus had given her too many memories for her to fully comprehend.

One minute, he had been the abused boy, then the man who defended her against his fellow Death Eaters, then a pawn to the two most powerful wizards in the wizarding world, and finally, a person who had no qualms about taking another's life, a person who had fixated upon, lied to, and used her, a dangerous man who frightened the living hell out of her.

Moments before, the last of the memories had flashed before her eyes, and Hermione had fallen to her knees, physically weakened by the sight of him sitting in front of his fireplace, writing inside his leather-bound journal. She had remembered that he had a similar book in which he had written detailed information regarding his enemies. She had gasped when she had noticed that her name was engraved on the front of this journal and nearly stopped breathing when he had opened to the center of the book and begun writing. Hermione had frantically attempted to read his words, and her heart had sunk into the pit of her stomach when he wrote the heading of his next chapter: Breaking Hermione Granger.

From there, memories of everything he had done to her swirled around her, engulfing her mind and body. She felt extremely violated when the memories showed her all the different times he had stood below her window at her parents' house, watching her and writing down her nightly activities, details such as what time she bathed on Sunday nights.

She had shouted and attempted to hit the memory Snape as he had sneaked into her rooms at night, touching her most intimate areas as she slept. Even worse were the times when she had awoken during these transgressions, and he had Obliviated her after he finished holding her down so tightly that he had left bruises. And not once, but several times over the years, he had modified her memories--unexplained events such as missing articles of clothing or how her two best friends had managed to get a higher N.E.W.T. in Potions than she had finally been made clear. Almost everything that had been unexplained had been because of him.

She felt so stupid for not realizing that he had always been around, that he had always been watching her. Whether as a young girl, or after she had finished school, he had been there. The picture he had taken of her the day she had left Hogwarts--the one that she had found in his office--had been crumpled on the edges because he had held it in one hand while he pleasured himself with the other.

He even had shown her all the things that her cousin, Jezzie, had been involved with. The memories of the Death Eater revels, especially the one at which her cousin had been an unexpected guest, had made Hermione violently ill. So much in fact, that she had nearly missed how Severus ultimately saved her cousin. She berated herself when she realized that she had told the secret to the location of Beauxbatons and he had gained that information and used it against the Order.

It was all so damn confusing. He had loathed Hermione, he had been infatuated with her, and finally, he had fallen in love with her--or what he believed to be love.

Was she expected to forgive him? After all the horrible things he had done to society, to himself, to her friends and family and to her, did he expect that by showing her how he had grown over the last few months, how he had let her into his heart, how he had nearly died while saving her back in Egypt, that it would all be enough to forgive him?

He had even shown her how he had had polite conversations with Ron and Harry, that he had held his tongue to be decent with them. For her.

The memory of him tossing his "Hermione Granger" leather journal into his fireplace was his most powerful attempt to show her that he had changed.

It had been at that point that Hermione had balled her hands into fists, digging her fingernails into her flesh.

Severus stared blankly into the darkness as he sat on the edge of his bed, waiting to hear Hermione's reaction to viewing his memories. He assumed she would storm into the room and start lecturing him, and then, more than likely, never speak to him again. He had promised himself that he would listen to her and not beg for her forgiveness.

He didn't deserve it.

A small part of him hoped she wouldn't turn from him like everyone else had. She wasn't like anyone he had known, and he knew he shouldn't compare her to others, but it was only logical that she would push him away after realizing what a bastard he truly had been.

Perhaps it had been a rash decision to show her everything.

Severus sighed and fell backwards onto the bed. No, she needs to know who you really are.

Just as he closed his eyes, several thumps and a crash came from her room, jolting him from the bed. He wrenched opened the door, ready for her to throw something at him, but instead was shocked to find her sprawled across the floor, clutching her wrist, tears pouring from her eyes. The lamp from the bedside table had been knocked over, and a chair had fallen over, and the empty phials from his memories were scattered across the floor.

Being careful not to break the glass bottles, Severus lightly treaded towards her side, knelt down and gently placed his hand on her forehead. "Hermione?"

"Don't touch me!" she snapped, swatting his hand away from her and scrambling to her feet. "I need some fresh air," she said as she stalked away from him.

"Shit!" he muttered, moving the wooden chair and picking up the phials before slowly walking after her--slowly because he knew there was no fresh air for her to find.

Dumbledore had made sure they couldn't escape.

Hermione was pulling on the handle of the door, jiggling it in an attempt to leave. "Alohomora! I said, Alohomora! Open up, you blasted door!"

"Hermione," he said gently.

She faced him, her brow crinkled and her jaw set tight.

"We can't leave Dumbledore's prison."

Hermione growled, lifted up a metal candlestick from the table and threw it into the window, hoping to break free, but it was a shock to her when it bounced off the window and ricocheted back at her, hitting her wrist.

Severus rushed to her side, reaching for her wrist.

"Just leave me alone," she snarled.

"Are you hurt?"

"Just leave," she whispered, sagging into a nearby chair.

Severus' heart broke. He hated seeing her in so much pain. But he hated himself more for being the cause. He sat on the ground next to her. "Let me see what you've done to your wrist, you foolish girl."

She shook her head, forcing the tears back.

Ignoring her, he pulled her into his arms, but quickly released her when the shock of her unstable magic surged through his body. "Hermione, you need to calm down--your magic is volatile."

"I'd calm down if you'd leave me alone." She pushed herself to her knees, but Severus grabbed her around the waist and pulled her tightly into his chest. Years of suffering the Cruciatus Curse helped him endure the fiery sting of her magic on his skin.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear. "You don't deserve to be trapped here."

Hermione turned in his arms and buried her face in his chest. Severus sighed, thankful that she was allowing him to comfort her. He tipped his head back against the side of the sofa, savoring the touch of her body next to his.

He had a horrible feeling that this might be the last time he would get this opportunity, that when she finally came to her senses, she would never want to be around him again.

And he didn't blame her.

At least I had some time with her. No one can ever take that from me.

Severus stared out the large window as he held her. The sunshine, blue sky, and the rich colours of the outdoors all taunted him. He could almost swear he heard the chirping of birds. How could it be that he and Hermione were suffering inside this makeshift hell, tucked away from the world, while life went on around them in a sick and cheerful way?

It's not fair.

Severus snorted. He could almost hear Dumbledore explaining to him, as he had done on several occasions, that 'Life isn't fair, Severus. It's your choices that that lead you down the paths of life...'

Severus hated that lecture.

Hermione shifted in his arms, and Severus realized that as he sulked, her magic had stabilized and she was breathing deeply now, no longer crying. Severus took the chance that she wouldn't pull away from him and slowly twisted his long finger through one of her curls and closed his eyes.

Time seems to stand still when imprisoned, Hermione thought to herself.

She briefly wondered how long she and Severus had been sitting on the ground, holding one another. Of course, it didn't really matter how long they sat there, did it? Because the moment she lifted her head and acknowledged the situation, the world as she had known it would be gone. And that was a terrifying realization.

But right now, in this present moment, no matter how angry she was with him, he was still the person she had loved. He was still her partner. And she drank every ounce of him in, simultaneously breathing in when he did and listening to the beating of his heart as he softly laced his fingers through her hair.

But Hermione knew better. They couldn't sit here forever, ignoring the future, ignoring the evil truths that Severus had unveiled to her.

Hermione's eyes fluttered opened. The room was now blanketed in semi-darkness, and she blinked her heavy-lidded eyes.

It was time for both of them to face each other.

Without lifting her head, she whispered, "Am I correct in assuming that the obsession you spoke of a while ago was me?"

Severus inhaled deeply. "Yes," he said, his voice vibrating her cheek.

Hermione sat up, ignoring the stiffness in her neck. "A very small part of me is flattered by your fascination, Severus, but the rest..." She sighed, shaking her head.

Severus shifted his eyes downward and then slowly faced her again.

"You know, over the years, and especially quite recently, I've had very intense dreams--dreams that were basically subliminal warnings. It all makes sense now."

"Casting perfect Oblivates has never been something I've taken pride in. I'm not Gilderoy Lockhart."

"Now is not the time to have a laugh, Severus Snape!" she chastised him, pulling away and getting to her feet.

Using the side of the sofa as an aid, Severus gradually stood up as well. "Hermione--"

"How could you let an eleven-year-old Muggle-born girl get under your skin? It's really very creepy, you know."

"Because you were never just eleven! Did you not see the memories? From your first year to your fourth year, you were the exceedingly annoying, always insufferable, friend of Harry fucking Potter! Yet, you were extraordinary, and you stood out above the rest, and I couldn't help but take notice. And by the time you began shagging that fucking git, Krum, I was in over my head with anger and lust, and I loathed you for it."

"For your information, I never shagged him, you jealous arse!"

"That's beside the point, Hermione. You were fourteen years old and the only person who had ever intellectually challenged me. You're a puzzle I can never find an answer for. So, can you blame me for becoming obsessed? For hating you because you did this to me?"

"I enjoy a mystery as much as you. But I don't go around purposely trying to break someone! Besides, there are plenty of others that are even more confusing than me--perhaps one your own age," she pointed out. "That excuse is just bollocks."

"Oh, really? Who then?" he said, mocking her.

Hermione huffed. "Dumbledore? Tom Riddle? Some other witch?"

Severus straightened, looking very much like the professor she had once known. "Dumbledore's a controlling bastard, Hermione. Once you crack his code of ambiguity, he is as easy to read as a book. The Dark Lord is the same. As for anyone else, as you suggested, you are the only person who has ever driven me mad, keeping me on my toes, wondering how in the bloody hell you were able to bring down someone like Dolores Umbridge!"

"So because you could never understand me, you decided to do horrible things to me, treat me like your personal toy--"

"You intrigued me, Hermione. You still do. I didn't know how to react--you saw my past.

"Besides murder, lusting after a student has been one the worst sins I have committed. I despised myself for being so weak. You were new to me, nothing I had ever encountered before.

"I showed you my Boggart for a reason. I feared that no one like you could possibly accept me for who I am. So I did what I did to ensure I didn't get hurt. Instead, I hurt you."

Hermione snorted. "That's pathetic, Severus," she mumbled under her breath.

He took two long strides toward her, backing her up against the wall, towering over her and glaring at her through his curtain of black hair. "Is it, Hermione? What about you? You're just as pathetic as I am."

Hermione's breath hitched. She hadn't been frightened of him in a long time. Her mouth was too dry to even swallow, let alone argue with the sinister man.

"You may not have committed such crimes as I did to you, but you are far from being innocent. You may have greatly consumed me, woman, but I have also done the same to you. You have always had the need to impress me, the need to satisfy me, correct?"

She nodded, and he smirked. "You have an obsession as well, Miss Granger."

"I never--"

"What do you think I am? A fool? You're not that good a liar! Afraid to admit the awful truth?"

"S-stop turning this on me, Snape. You wanted my submission! But mostly, you're just afraid of rejection."

"As are you," he whispered in her ear, burying his nose in her thick hair. Hermione's heart frantically raced. She hated him and the effect he had on her. She squirmed against the wall, the exposed brick snagging her clothes.

"Do you understand that fear can devour a person? It can make a person go nearly mad, or make them do things that under different circumstances they would probably not do? Fear changes a person, Hermione, and your fear of rejection is just as great as mine. I'll be the first to admit, I took it to greater lengths, but nevertheless--"

"Your behavior towards me is still inexcusable!"

"I agree, and for that I apologize. I should never have taken advantage of you in that manner. I shouldn't have been such a... coward and tried to break you because of my fears. I can't change the past, Hermione, I can only fix the problem and look towards our future."

Anger, confusion, and hurt crowded Hermione's mind and heart. She pushed past him, and he whirled around to face her before she hissed, "We don't have a future!"

"Why not?" he said, his lip curling.

"You've had a lifetime to live with those memories! I've had half an hour with them--I need time to process this, Severus!" She turned away and began walking towards her room.

"So you're walking away from me, just like everyone else in my life--just like Lily," he snarled.

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks.

She turned on her heel, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed. She swiftly advanced on him, striking him with her famous right cross. "Do not ever compare me to her or anyone else, for that matter!"

Blood trickled from the corner of his lips, and already his pale skin was reddening with a bruise. Her hand throbbed, but her adrenaline was rushing high, and she couldn't have cared less about her pain.

She was ready for the fight.

But it never came.

He just stood there with a defiant stare, and Hermione was sure he was battling a private war within himself. It was obvious he wanted to strike back, but he kept his distance, trying to keep calm.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't compare you to her," he demanded, his voice low and tight with anger.

Before Hermione could answer, a thin trail of blood from his mouth traveled down his chin to his neck, splattering his white shirt. It was at that moment that Hermione realized that the person from the memories--the man who had assaulted and used her--was not the man who stood before her now. If he hadn't changed, she was positive that this treacherous man would have struck her in return. By not wiping away the blood she had drawn, by standing there, taking her physical abuse and not retorting in his humiliation, he was signifying his surrender to her.

Hermione exhaled, breathing out her anger. "Because I'm the only one who has ever loved you," she said, her voice a bare whisper in the cozy room.

Severus' jaw relaxed, and his features softened. Then, his brow wrinkled as he said, "Loved. As in past tense?"

Not knowing how to answer that, Hermione walked towards him, pulling two tissues out of the box from table next to the sofa before stopping in front him. He was extremely still as she gently patted the line of blood off his chin, and she briefly wondered if he was waiting for her to hit him again. "It's late, Severus. We should get some rest and conclude this tomorrow," she whispered. Once she was finished wiping away the excess blood, she balled the tissues up, dropping them on the table, and walked away.