Home | Members | Help | Submission Rules | Log In |
Recently Added | Categories | Titles | Completed Fics | Random Fic | Search | Top Fictions
Drama

Just to Be by Amarti [Reviews - 8]

<< >>

Would you like to submit a review?

This chapter features a footnote. When you see (1), skim down to the very end to read it. Or wait until you reach the end anyway. Whatever suits.

-------

Hermione's mouth was full of sawdust. She tried to swallow but couldn't. Her hands were clammy. And she had an intense, wrenching feeling that she had just ruined everything.

What does one say after one ruins everything? At present, the best Hermione seemed to be able to come up with was, "Er…"

Severus was no help. He just stared at her, black eyes wider than usual, his face expressionless.

"I, er…"

Could they ever go back?

"I…"

Severus closed his eyes and seemed to be calming himself before speaking.

"Uh…"

He opened his eyes and met hers again. "Hermione…" And she knew, she just knew, that he was about to reject her.

"Please," she whispered. "I'm… I'm sorry. Just forget…"

"How can I forget?" His face was still a mask.

"I wish you would…" she said in a small voice.

"Why?"

"W-why? Because you're… because you can't… because we…" She huffed a breath and attempted to compose herself. "Because of your Patronus."

"What about it?"

"It's still a doe."

"And what on earth does that have to do with anything?"

"I… are you going to make me spell it out? I'd rather we just…"

"Just?"

"Severus, please!" she hissed. "I'm sorry I said anything, I'm sorry I complicated this, I'm just… I'm sorry."

She snatched her dressing gown off one of the armchairs and pulled it on hastily.

"Where are you going?"

She just shook her head and made for the door. But Severus was quicker. He grabbed her arm and asked her again, "Where are you going?"

She shook her head. "My room. My old room. I can't stay in here."

"Please don't go."

"It hurts!" she spat. "It hurts. I can't… it hurts."

"Hermione," Severus said softly. "Come sit with me."

She let him lead her to the bed, where he sat her down on the edge and knelt down in front of her, taking her hands in his.

"Your sentiment is unexpected," he said, "and I confess that it was not a declaration I ever expected to hear from you."

"Please…"

"But it is not unwelcome," he said.

"Oh, well, 'not unwelcome,' high praise indeed," Hermione said sarcastically. She felt so humiliated. "I'm glad to hear that."

"Hermione!" he said sharply. "Please, this is… this is difficult for me too."

"Can't you just reject me and get this over with?"

"No."

"I can't—"

"You feelings are not unreciprocated!"

Her watery eyes met his. "What?"

"I said… I reciprocate your feelings."

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Don't tease me."

"I'm not," he said, sounding offended. "I'm serious."

"So… you do?"

He nodded.

"Say it," she pleaded, knowing she sounded like such a silly girl but not caring. "I need to hear you say it. Please."

Clearing his throat, he met her eyes and said slowly and deliberately, "Hermione Granger… I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered. "But I don't understand… the doe…"

"Is not a symbol of my love for Lily, contrary to popular opinion, such as it is." Severus, of course, used the term 'popular opinion' quite liberally here. Only Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Dumbledore knew of the doe, and all had drawn the same conclusion.

"It's not?"

He shook his head. "I thought you knew already. I would have expected you to know about it. Perhaps I still have things to teach you after all." He smirked. She smacked him playfully on the arm.

"In my one year teaching Defence, I studied much about Patronuses, more than I had ever done in the past. I have continued to do so in what little spare time I have in recent months because the phenomenon puzzled me too. Yes, Patronuses can change in relation to unrequited love. But the phenomenon is very rare. Patronuses are guardians, reflections of the very essence of the person casting it. A Patronus would hardly be reflective of the person casting it if it changes based on the whim of a person's fleeting, changing desire. It would be a poor source of identification. Many wizards and witches can cast them, and all who do have the capacity for love, but very few change based on the object of one's affection. People who long for others find their Patronuses changing, not those who truly love."

"Okay…" Hermione wasn't sure where he was going with this. A doe reflected Severus's character about as well as a bat reflected hers. It had been Lily's Patronus, there was no denying that. It was a symbol of Lily and she knew it and she knew he knew it. She too had read up on Patronuses, since it was still the spell that gave her the most trouble. Apparently she had not read enough.

"Have you not noticed, Hermione, that one's Patronus changes with regard to the kind of one-sided love that invites pain, not reciprocal, mutual love? Has Harry's Patronus changed to match his wife's? Has hers changed to match his?"

She shook her head. Harry was still a stag, Ginny a horse.

"Do you doubt their love for each other?"

She shook her head again. No. Harry and Ginny were completely and utterly mad for each other.

"What about Luna and," he sneered, "Longbottom?"

"No," she whispered. Luna was still a rabbit, Neville a toad.

"Do you doubt their commitment to each other?"

"No." They might not be married, and maybe never would be (marriage didn't seem to be Luna's style), but Hermione knew that their love was deep and eternal and that their relationship was likely permanent.

Severus aimed his wand at the wall and said, "Expecto Patronum!" Out burst the silver doe, prancing around the room before coming up to Hermione to nuzzle her cheek.

"I used to think of Lily when I cast it," he said softly. "It was always a weak Patronus, but it worked. I assumed, as you did, that it was reflective of her, and for many years I believe it was. Do you know what I think of to summon it now?" Hermione shook her head. "I think of you reading out loud to the children, freely and lovingly and without judgment, that first night. I think of that and the doe bursts forth stronger than it ever did before. It made no sense to me, either. How could I summon her Patronus when I think of you?

"My Patronus changed because Lily never loved me, and hasn't changed again because you do. I think she symbolises love in general, not just Lily. For whatever reason, my screwed-up mind associates the doe with love. It has to, for I have not thought of her in months when summoning her. Only you." He gave a wry smile. "The doe is a part of me now, reflective of me, and while I would prefer something less effeminate, I have as much control over that as the next wizard, which is none.

"Now cast yours," he said. She shook her head; she was not in the right emotional state to summon a Patronus.

"You can do it," he whispered. He got off the floor and came behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back close to his chest. He placed her wand in her hand and wrapped his hand around it. "Do you remember our trip to the sea on your birthday?" He kissed the top of her head. "Our first night together?" He kissed her cheek. "Holding each other last night in the shower?" He kissed her neck.

She nodded tearfully.

"How did all of that make you feel?"

"L-loved."

"Cast your Patronus." His voice was soft and encouraging.

She sighed and brought forth the memories he had mentioned. With his hand wrapped around hers, they spoke the incantation and made the wand movement together.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Out burst her otter, her beautiful otter, that had been her Patronus her entire life. It was as much a part of her now as anything. It swam in mid-air around them both in playful circles.

"You see, Hermione, when people are in a committed, complete relationship, they do not need to obsess over the other person to the point that it consumes them. That is what changes a Patronus—an all-consuming longing for another. It colours everything about them. But a true relationship, a true love, leaves a Patronus unchanged." He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. "My Patronus is unchanged, as is yours, because this, us, is real," he whispered. "I told you that I do not give my loyalty or heart out freely, Hermione. I meant that. Lily will always be a part of me, as I told you, but that does not mean that I have no capacity to love another, particularly one who loves me. It is more than I deserve and not something I will give up lightly."

She turned and wrapped her arms around him. "I love you," she whispered.

"Tell me every day," he implored her.

She nodded. "Every day." She hummed in contentment. "You know something? You can really be a romantic fool when you want to."

"I'm not romantic."

"If you say so." She knew that she, and only she, knew the real Severus, the one buried beneath layers upon layers and years upon years of defences. When one got down to it, he was human, one who gave and received love just as any other.

What a shame that this was the Wizarding World's best-kept secret.(1)

---------

Severus was not a materialistic person and never had been. For many years it was due to the fact that his family simply did not have the means to provide him with many possessions, so he learned to do without. During the wars and his time as a spy it was impractical to form any attachment to any person or any thing, since they could (and often would) slip away from him in the blink of an eye. After the war… it had simply become a habit for him to neither seek nor retain possessions.

With this background he found himself bewildered at the reactions of the children. Hermione had finagled a donation of sweets and goods from the Weasleys' shop, just a few things, probably not enough for an adequate Christmas morning for the average child, but these children… well, their experiences had been different. True, many had come from old Wizarding money, but that had been many years ago, before most of them could remember, and all they had known were empty Christmases that Severus had usually chosen not to mention.

At first they were confused—who had brought them? What were they for? What would they have to do in exchange? Ever the little Slytherins, Severus thought. Looking for the catch. It took quite a bit of convincing from Hermione and Luna to coax them into accepting them and enjoying them. At first they held the parcels gingerly, not entirely trusting the sentiment. Then, after a nod from Severus, they had cautiously opened them. They just looked at the presents, not making a sound, contemplating what they had received. And then they allowed themselves to begin to enjoy them, slowly, cautiously. Before long, the house was loud with the sounds of fifteen children enjoying their gifts on Christmas morning.

Severus watched them act and interact as normal children would, and thought back to a year earlier, before a certain bushy-haired witch and her dim-witted folk hero friend had barged into his office with delusions of saving both him and the children. How he had disparaged them, how he had hated them for it. He knew the shortcomings of his work and did not appreciate them being pointed out. He never dreamed that, with their help, things could have changed so much.

It gave Severus reason enough to feel a small bit of hope for the future, which was the greatest gift he could have received.

"Miss Granger?" Leopold whispered. He had come over to where she was sitting closely, but not too closely, to Mr. Snape on the settee (who did these two think they were fooling anyway?). Maybe he could help too. He seemed to know what girls liked. But no. He couldn't ask him.

"I have to talk to you," he said urgently. Hermione nodded and gestured for the opposite corner of the room.

"What's wrong?" she asked in a whisper.

"I… I got a gift from someone, but I didn't get them anything," he said in a strained whisper.

Hermione gave him a soft smile. "Oh, Leopold, don't worry. People don't give gifts in the expectation of receiving something in return. They give because they want to."

"I do want to!" he whispered. "But I couldn't get her anything, and now she's given me something, and…"

Comprehension dawned in Hermione's eyes. "This is a pretty special friend, isn't it?" He nodded. It took all her self-control not to break into a grin and hug this little boy in celebration of his first love. He might be a Gryffindor but was enough of a Slytherin to not enjoy something like that. So she calmed herself. "You know who might be able to help you?" He shook his head. "Mr. Snape. He's… well, he might understand what you're going through better than I."

Leopold shook his head again. Talking to Snape was hard enough on a good day. After the words they'd exchanged yesterday… no, he couldn't.

Hermione nodded. "I promise."

He still shook his head violently. "Would you prefer if I ask him for you?" He nodded. "Alright, I'll do so."

Hermione padded over to the settee and sat a bit closer to Severus than she had before, a small smile upon her face. He lifted his arm so that it was along the top of the settee and behind her back but not quite touching her. Propriety was important, even if it was a farce and everyone in the room knew it. Especially Longbottom, smirking at him from across the room. Severus ignored him and looked instead at Hermione and raised an eyebrow in question. She leaned in just a bit to whisper.

"Leopold has a bit of a girl trouble," she whispered before reaching a hand to his arm to still him after it looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his head, and launched into an explanation of the boy's predicament.

"I see," he said, not meeting her eyes.

"Has this ever happened to any of them?"

Severus shook his head. "Not that I'm aware of. I do think that if it had it might have helped them in the past. The love of a friend… well, it can keep a lost little boy from doing stupid things, as long as he can hold her affection."

Hermione knew he saw himself in Leopold and that he knew the power of a friendship (or love) like this, both its beauty and its danger.

"So what do you suggest?" she asked him.

He shrugged. "I was once in this position with Lily. First year. I had nothing for her and she had given me a gift. It was a blank book, a diary, and I used it as a sketch book."

"You draw?"

"I did," he replied, and quickly added, "And no, you may not see my work."

"Pity. You have an artist's hands. I bet you're good at it."

He shrugged. "Anyway, I had nothing for her in return. I hated myself for it. The next year I set about rectifying it. I saved a bit of money each month and bought her a scarf. She wore it every day, even after… well, she wore it a lot."

Hermione dared to reach her hand to his knee and rubbed circles on it lightly.

"Merlin, Hermione, there are children right there!"

"So?"

"It's a very erogenous spot for me."

"Your knee?" He nodded. "Really?" He gave her one of his trademark looks. "Interesting. I never knew that. Is that common knowledge?"

"May we change the subject?"

She removed her hand. "So what do we tell him to do?" Their eyes moved to the little sand-haired boy in the corner, talking to his sister.

"He'll send her a heartfelt thank you note via owl today," Severus said slowly. "And then he and I will brainstorm a way to reciprocate."

Hermione nodded. "I still hope you'll show me some of your drawings someday," she said. "You're such a pack rat; I know you still have them somewhere."

He refused to respond.

---------

Boxing day found a brown-haired witch and her grandson standing in a foggy London square. Andromeda Tonks stood clutching the small piece of parchment in one hand and her grandson's tiny hand in her other. The parchment revealed an address that she had known very well, but now that it was Secret-Kept she couldn't find it on her own.

She had been very hesitant to come to Grimmauld Place again. It reminded her of too many painful things. She thought of Sirius, who had been more of a sibling to her than her own sisters, and Regulus, who had grown up here. She thought of her aunt Walburga, the hateful woman who had blasted her off the family tree. She thought of her sisters and the monsters they had married, the twisted beings they had become. Andromeda thought of her husband and daughter and son-in-law, whom she had lost all in the space of three months. She looked down at her teal-haired grandson, who grinned up at her, his front tooth missing. This was why she was still alive, why she hadn't taken her own life after everyone and everything she had ever loved was taken from her. This little boy, this beautiful little boy, was who she lived for now.

And now she had brought him here. She hadn't wanted to, but Harry had been very convincing. He loved his godson very much, and spent most weekends visiting him at least once, usually with his own son in tow. Harry would never, ever put the boy in any danger, and would be here the entire time. So even though Andromeda had her hesitations and legitimate reasons for wanting to stay away, she trusted Harry. If Harry said that Teddy would enjoy it here, then Teddy would probably enjoy it here.

Teddy, for his part, tore away from her as soon as he reached the door and saw his godfather. Teddy had the same fearlessness that Nymphadora had at his age—take off at the slightest enticement, not watch where he was going and—crash, trip over himself and fall to the floor. Laughing all the while. Yes, the boy had a lot of his mother in him.

He was as kind and forgiving and accepting as Remus had been, in the short time Andromeda had known him. She had been hesitant about her son-in-law at first—aside from the fact that he was a werewolf and unemployed, he was also thirteen years older than her daughter and they had been married rather quickly. When he left Nymphadora only weeks after their marriage, leaving her pregnant and alone, Andromeda had been sure that her instincts about him had been correct. When Remus came back, Andromeda refused to let him in. Her husband was on the run and her daughter was depressed and there was a baby on the way. She only relented at her daughter's insistence. Nymphadora had welcomed him back with open arms, and told her mother that he was a good man, who left only for their own protection. Remus had fallen to his knees and pressed his head against his wife's swollen belly, pleading for her forgiveness, swearing never to leave her again, that he would be the father his child deserved. He had been so afraid to love his entire life, and with Nymphadora he allowed himself to do so.

According to those who had witnessed it, Remus and Nymphadora had died fighting side-by-side, holding hands.

Stupid fools never should have left their son to fight. No matter the cause. But it was too late for those regrets.

Andromeda understood that war made good men do bad things for good reasons. Her son-in-law was one of those. Her husband was one of those. Harry Potter was one of those.

And so, too, was Severus Snape.

Andromeda knew precisely who killed her husband and daughter and son-in-law: her sister Bellatrix and Antonin Dolohov. Now her grandson, her only remaining link to both of them, was with Harry in the attic playing with Dolohov's son and Bellatrix's niece and nephew. She knew, rationally, that these children were not their parents (how often had she stood alone in her bedroom telling herself over and over, "You are not like them!") and she knew, academically, that with Harry by Teddy's side he would come to no harm no matter who else was around.

Still, she couldn't help but feel that Severus, too, was a good man doing a bad thing by caring for these children, albeit for a good reason.

---------

Hermione had not had much interaction with Andromeda Tonks since the war, and none before it, but found herself sitting beside the older witch and watching Teddy Lupin play with the Death Eaters' children.

"I can't even imagine…" she said.

Andromeda shook her head. "Don't try."

"I'm glad you brought him here," Hermione said softly. "He's a good boy and these really are good children. They're not their parents, you know."

Andromeda nodded. "I know that. Still… it reminds me."

Hermione nodded. "I'm sure." She sighed. "To be around the children of the people who killed your parents… I hope he doesn't know. For now, anyway."

Andromeda shook her head. "He doesn't, and he won't. I don't know if I'll bring him back here, but it was important to Harry, and Harry is important to Teddy, and I trust Harry's judgment." She smiled a bit. "Someday he will know and understand. But I won't have it happening while he is so young."

"I wish he never had to learn," Hermione said softly. "Suppose they become friends, what would that do to him? Even if they don't but see each other at Hogwarts—can you imagine what that would be like? Walking the halls knowing that the people who live with you under this same roof are the children of the people who killed your parents?" She turned to the older woman. "God, Andromeda, we never should have brought him here, should we? I'm so sorry."

Andromeda shook her head. "Teddy is so forgiving. He gets it from his mother, who forgave Remus for leaving her. He gets it from his father, who forgave the world at large for all the wrongs it wrought on him. And he gets it from his godfather. I don't see him holding a grudge. And if he does, I hope Severus will talk to him about it."

Hermione looked at her quizzically. "Severus? Why?"

"His experience is closest to Teddy's."

"What… you mean Severus went through something similar?

Andromeda nodded. "Has he… has he never told you why he joined up with the Death Eaters?"

Hermione shook her head. It was a topic the two of them never, ever discussed. He didn't want to open up about it, and she did not want to ask. Independently she had constructed a narrative that made sense to her: Severus had been ostracised both in his House (a half-blood Slytherin never had an easy go of it, let alone one from humble origins) and out (hated at first sight by the Gryffindor Marauders and resented by the Ravenclaws). He had come from a home with little love and even less affection. He was brilliant but his talents were not recognised by others. The Death Eaters gave him a sense of purpose, a place to belong. They gave him the power and protection he had desperately needed and never had. He was an impoverished half-blood in a world where wealthy purebloods reigned supreme, and he had been offered a seat at the table. Sometimes it seemed better to join up with the devil than remain in his path.

That had made sense to her. But suddenly it seemed that this was not the whole story, if it was the story at all.

"What happened?" Hermione asked finally, trying not to sound too shocked or too desperate to know. Part of her knew that she shouldn't ask; if Severus wanted her to know, Severus would tell her. But curiosity got the better of her, as it always did, and she asked anyway.

"His parents were killed by Aurors," Andromeda said softly.

"What… why? His father was a Muggle, and from what I know of his mother she doesn't seem like the type who would have been involved in—"

"They weren't," Andromeda cut her off. "That was the tragedy of it all. Lord Mulciber had come to see Eileen and Tobias about something, there was a price on his head, an Auror tailed them there, and took out both Mulciber and the two 'Death Eater sympathisers' who were found with him." She sighed sadly. "It was a terrible event. Aurors had the power to cast Unforgivables and were given wide berth. It was a terrible, dark, frightening time. Innocent people were killed in the war, but very few by the Ministry's hand. The authority of the Ministry was hanging by a thread, and they could not afford to be seen making any mistakes. They had to be on the side of good, no matter what. The Ministry, not wanting to appear weak, brushed the whole thing under the rug."

Hermione thought she might be sick.

"I knew Severus at school," Andromeda continued. "His family might not have been long on affection, and he might have been neglected, and his circumstances might have been meagre, and he may have hated his father, but make no mistake—that boy loved his mother."

That would explain it all, Hermione thought. The more pain a subject brought, the more Severus avoided it. He had never, ever, not once, mentioned his mother, just as he had never, ever, mentioned Lily to Harry.

"How old was he?"

"I believe it was in the summer after his sixth year," Andromeda said sadly. "He had been in a gang of pro-Dark Lord Slytherins in his fifth year but had largely shied away from them by then. I'm still not sure why. But after this… after seeing what happened to his parents, the reaction of the Ministry, the lack of support the school gave him, he decided that he could not do this anymore. He could not count on the Light for any protection against anything. He did the only thing he could do—he joined the only organization that could have a chance at making these people pay for what they did. Even though he hated its mission and its methods, it had the one thing that Slytherins respect more than anything: Power. And he desperately needed a powerful sponsor."

Hermione was lost for words, and could only muster the most minute shaking of her head.

War certainly did have a way of making good men do bad things for good reasons.

--------

Teddy Lupin didn't seem so bad to Leopold. True, he had Hufflepuff written all over him, and it was strange how his hair kept changing colours like a mood ring, but he was friendly and didn't judge any of them and made Ermengarde laugh. Clara looked a bit like that when she laughed.

Clara…

She had given him a small box filled with a few Chocolate Frogs for Christmas. Nothing big, nothing expensive, but enough to make Leopold smile. No one had ever sent him, and him alone, a gift before.

Clara was special. She didn't know who he was and liked him, sought out his company. He didn't want to screw this up. Leopold knew very little about girls, but gathered that they enjoyed presents. So… what present could he get her?

He looked down at his Chocolate Frog cards. He had got Mr. Longbottom (he sure used to be chubby, hadn't he?), Headmistress McGonagall (she stood so still and prim Leopold thought for a moment that this was a Muggle photo), and Miss Lovegood (who stared vacantly and pointed vaguely to something outside the frame). He remembered his first time exchanging cards with Clara, who had introduced the idea to him, and how she had given him the Snape card. He still had it in his trunk. She seemed to like the cards.

He wondered…

He left the attic and made his way to the bedroom he shared with Ermengarde. He opened his trunk and carefully unwrapped the card from the folds of his red and gold Gryffindor scarf. The Snape on the card took one look at Leopold, sneered, and stalked out of the frame. Leopold kept it only because it was from her. He didn't really want to part with the card, but if doing so would make Clara happy, he would be happy to do it.

Leopold climbed back into the attic and found Mr. Snape. Snape alternated between casting nervous glances toward Miss Granger and Mrs. Tonks and monitoring the other children. Sensing that there would probably never be a "good" time to ask, he decided there was no time like the present. Hiding the card under his palm, he approached Snape as confidently as he dared.

"Can I talk to you?"

Severus quirked an eyebrow.

"Please, it's important. It's about… her."

Severus nodded and followed the boy down the stairs and to the landing on the third floor. "Well?" he said, trying to show indifference and impatience.

Leopold steadied himself and, without preamble, launched into his request. When he finished, Severus was staring daggers at him.

"Absolutely not," he said.

"Please, I know she would like it, it's something unique that I can give her, and, well, it won't cost anyone anything."

"No," Severus said, and turned to climb the stairs back into the attic.

"Miss Granger said you would understand!" he protested. That stopped Severus in his tracks, but he did not turn around. "She said that you have been in this position before and that you could help me."

She was right, of course. In Leopold and his friend, he saw himself and Lily at that age. A lonely boy desperate to please and impress his best friend, a pretty girl, the girl he loved already at such a tender age. The girl who could have stopped his descent into the darkness, had she been in his life for just a little bit longer.

Perhaps Leopold would succeed where Severus failed.

God but Hermione would be the death of him someday!

Cursing himself for allowing his feelings dictate his actions, he turned around and gave Leopold a fierce look and a curt nod. Without a word, he took the card from Leopold, pressed it against the wall, and signed his name under the photo with his wand.

He hated that he was on these infernal things. It romanticised his accomplishments and downplayed the negative parts of his past. The picture on the card was of a man who died in that boathouse, a man he no longer recognised. The Snape in the picture locked eyes with the Severus in the flesh. The Snape in the picture looked older, angrier, more tired, less loved than he knew he looked today. What had made the difference? The shorter hair? Different clothing? Taking care of them? But that was much more challenging than in his old life, with much less hope for success, with failure staring him in the face every day. Was it the patronage of Harry and his friends, who had all fully committed themselves to helping these children as much as he had? Was it the fact that time and distance had separated him from this old life? Was this what happened to everyone who lived after they should have died?

He knew what Albus would have said. He would have said that it was because now, Severus spent his nights in the arms of a woman who loved him, whom he loved back, and to whom he was committed. Albus would accuse him of caring for the children, rather than merely taking care of them (and yes, there was a difference), which is what kept him young. Love, real love, in multiple forms, was what Albus would credit to this.

He handed the boy back the card, who accepted it without a word, his eyes alight with hope.

"Miss Lovegood's owl is, I believe, in the ground floor sitting room," Severus said nonchalantly, and left to go up the stairs.

He heard Leopold's little feet rush down the stairs and couldn't suppress the small smirk that crept across his face as he wished the boy luck. Merlin knew he was going to need it.

-------

That night, hours after Andromeda and Teddy had left with the promise to visit again, Hermione curled up close to Severus, hugged him a little tighter than she would normally, and took a deep breath, inhaling his scent. He held her just as tightly, no words passing between them.

He was an exceptional man. To have been hurt so much in his life, by so many, in so many ways, and yet still have the capacity to help raise more than two dozen orphaned children and find room in his heart to love her as well… it was overwhelming.

"I can hear you thinking," he whispered.

She chuckled. "Yes, I suppose you can."

"I would never do that to you, Hermione," he said seriously. "Not without your permission."

She smiled. "Thanks."

He kissed her forehead. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head. "Just hold me."

He complied.

"Have I told you today that I love you?" she asked.

He smiled in the dark and she pretended that she couldn't tell. "I think you'd better tell me again."

"I love you." She punctuated each word with a kiss on his chest.

"And I you," he whispered. He hummed with contentment and shut his eyes. "Tell me again tomorrow."

"I'll tell you every day," she said. She would. He hadn't heard it enough in his life. She couldn't make up for that, but she could try. "Every day." For the rest of my life.

-----

(1) Now I can already hear some of you saying, "You wait just a minute, Amarti! If only unrequited love triggers a change in your Patronus, then how do you explain Lily's doe? It matched James's stag, and their love was absolutely not unrequited! Plot hole! A plot hole, I say!" Well, Severus and Hermione were going to discuss this, but their conversation took on a life of its own and I couldn't get them to go back to the subject without it being horribly forced and awkward and completely disrupting the flow. So here goes: I think Lily's Patronus was a doe in its own right, and would have been even if she hadn't married James. Notice that it wasn't the same as James's, it was a complementary one. I like to think it symbolizes how well-suited they truly were for each other. The two characters whose Patronuses changed in canon (Tonks and Severus) had ones identical to their loved ones, and both times the feelings were unreciprocated at the time. Therefore, I think Lily's was already a doe before she and James got together. Capiche? That's my take on it, anyway.

The knee-is-an-erogenous-zone discussion is taken verbatim from one Mr. Amarti and I had a few months ago. Who knew?

Coming up: Hermione finds something else she wants to save. Any guesses as to what it might be?


Just to Be by Amarti [Reviews - 8]

<< >>

Disclaimers
Terms of Use
Credits

Ashwinder
A Severus Snape/Hermione Granger archive in the Harry Potter universe

Copyright © 2003-2019 Sycophant Hex
All rights reserved