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Chapter 15 - Carpe Noctem
Harry and Hermione walked up to Gryffindor Tower in silence. Both were trying to deal with the large amount of overwhelming and emotionally straining information they had been given that day. Harry was torn between a sense of hope that he might actually be able to confront the Dark Lord and live to tell the tale and a sense of anger and disgust at the thought of Hermione sleeping with his most hated professor. He'd managed to control his feelings for a little while when they were still up in the Room of Requirement, had even managed to smile, to pretend like everything was fine, but reality was quickly catching up with him. Things were not fine. For Hermione and Snape to be together was a) icky b) perverted and c) plain wrong. It was like a bad joke. He knew that if he was forced to accept it, if Dumbledore told him so, he would try, but it would probably be about as easy as accepting Draco Malfoy into his intimate circle of friends. His intense wish was that Dumbledore would come to the conclusion that the Pillar would be effective even if Hermione and Snape ended their affair. He realised that this was a very selfish wish, but god, how he wanted things to turn out that way...
Hermione's thoughts were similar, but a mirror image of his. She wished for nothing more than for Dumbledore to decide that she and Severus could keep on seeing each other. She wondered what Severus would say about all of this and how angry he would be that the secret was out. Would he even want to keep seeing her after tomorrow, she wondered. He'd been furious when he found out that she'd made the potion, and even worse when he'd found out that he was physically bound to her for a week. The knowledge that he was her Other in a ritual of ancient Light magic, would probably not thrill him...
They parted at the entrance to Gryffindor tower. Harry went through the portrait in search for Ginny. Hermione made him promise not to tell her about Snape and he did. She went straight to her own chambers and threw herself on the bed. She immediately noticed a note on her pillow and opened it with eager fingers.
Stay in your room.
Don't come to see me.
Don't make any plans for this evening.
Don't go down to dinner.
Await further instruction.
You'll like it.
There was no name, but she didn't have a problem figuring out who the note was from. She recognised the handwriting from the scribbled notes on her Potions essays and smiled. She would see him pretty soon. She only hoped he wouldn't cancel their evening together after he'd met with Dumbledore.
Thoughts kept swirling around in her head and she couldn't seem to get them to stop. Studying didn't work at all, and not even a hot shower made her tense body relax. In the end, she just lay on the bed, staring out the window, watching the sun set. The emotional strain of the afternoon had tired her and, eventually, she dozed off, waking up a couple of hours later as an owl swept through her open window and dropped a rather big, midnight-blue box adorned with a silver ribbon on the bed next to her. She just looked at it for awhile, surprise written all over her face. Then she took the card attached to the ribbon and turned it over:
Dinner in my chambers, 7 o' clock.
Wear this.
Only this.
With trembling hands, she started to untie the silver ribbon, throwing it aside. She held her breath as she lifted the lid of the box and moved away the silk that protected whatever was inside.
A gasp escaped her as she removed the first item in the box. It was a corset, a Victorian-style corset in silver brocade. Small beads and pearls decorated the edges, silk laces adorned the back, and a little tag informed her of the proper spell to make the laces do themselves up perfectly. She touched the smooth fabric and sighed. It was incredibly beautiful, simple, yet stunning, and she couldn't wait to wear it.
The next couple of items made her blush as she removed a garter belt and a delicate thong, both made of exquisite silver lace. Then came a pair of silk stockings, so thin they were almost invisible, with matching silver lace at the top where she'd attach them to the garter belt.
Beneath them was a pair of shoes, different from anything Hermione had worn before. They had a rounded toe and a two-inch heal and were made of the same brocade as the corset and decorated with the same kind of beads and pearls. She tried them on and they immediately fit themselves to her feet. Perfect.
Just as she was wondering weather he wanted her to come to him only in her underwear, she noticed something. What she had mistaken for protection fabric in the box was really a skirt, a long, flowing silk skirt that hugged her hips snugly and caressed her legs as she moved around. A high slit went up on one side, showing almost all of her right leg as she walked. The fabric was a royal blue colour which went perfectly with the silver corset. She laid out everything on the bed and smiled. It was a wonderful gift. He'd said she'd like it and he was right. It was sexy, very sexy, without being vulgar. It was classy, tasteful and just plain gorgeous. She looked forward to wearing it.
Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was almost six thirty. Putting on her robes, she rushed into Harry's room, interrupted what seemed to be a very advanced snogging session and begged Ginny to teach her the charm to make her hair shape itself into shiny curls. Ginny asked what the big rush was but didn't ask too many questions as Harry was nuzzling her neck to distract her and pull her back down with him on the bed. Hermione told her that she wouldn't leave until her hair looked nice and Ginny quickly crossed her floor, found her wand in the pocket of her robes, which lay in a heap by the door, and waved it over Hermione. She then demonstrated the incantation to her friend so that she'd be able to do it herself in the future. Hermione smiled and wished them a nice evening.
Her hair now non-bushy and silky, she moved into the bathroom to put on a light make-up. She hadn't worn any until this fall, when Ginny had bullied her into trying some, claiming that it made her ten times more beautiful and really opened up her eyes. Usually, Hermione still didn't bother on a day-to-day basis, but tonight, she was very grateful that Ginny was her friend.
Walking out into her bedroom, she took off all her clothes and started putting on what had been in the box. Everything fit to perfection and she realised that there must be an auto-fitting charm on the garments. Either that, or Snape knew her body perfectly - which was also a possible explanation, she smiled to herself. Closing the zipper on the skirt, she stood up, and was distracted by something glittering over at her night stand.
Circling the bed, she saw that it was a small, black bowl with something silvery glittering inside it. Reaching inside she gasped as she held up first a pair of silver earrings, then a silver necklace with sparkling blue stones set into it. She rushed into the bathroom to try them on and looked in awe on how the blue stones reflected the light, somehow making her hazel eyes look a deep shade of green and the skin around her neck and shoulders look soft and creamy. The earrings were feather light, a triangle of metal strands woven together reaching down from her earlobe. She shook her head and was pleased when they didn't make a sound.
Eager to see the final result in a full-length mirror, she walked back into her bedroom and opened the door of her closet. A wide smile spread on her lips. She looked very nice indeed. Happy, she closed the door and glanced at her watch. Two minutes to seven. With a smile, she transfigured the watch to match her clothes and stepped in front of the fire place. Casting a charm to protect her clothes against the ashes, she threw some Floo powder in the flames and watched them turn emerald.
"Severus Snape's chambers, password: Hellebore" she said, stepping into the green flames.
And with a swooshing sound, she was gone.
***
She stepped out of the fire and out on the stone floor. Looking around the room, she noticed that a table for two had been placed next to the enchanted window, which showed a panoramic view of the Hogwarts grounds under a star-filled sky. One ornate chair stood on either side of the table, on which a white, linen cloth had been spread. Several sparkling crystal glasses were lined up next to each set of plates and cutlery, and in the centre was a crystal bowl filled with red, floating roses. She counted the forks and realised that the table was laid out for a formal five-course dinner. A stand holding a bucket of ice stood on one side and innumerable candles were placed around the room. A soft violin concerto was playing in the background and, looking over at the bed, she saw that the thick, deep-green bed-spread had been covered with red rose petals. What the - ? Was she really in Snape's chambers? It looked more like some overly romantic thirteen-year-old's fantasy to her...
Hearing a sound, she turned around to face the door to the office and felt her jaw drop when she saw the man coming towards her. He was holding a bottle of champagne, which he deposited in the bucket next to the table and covered with a linen napkin before walking over to her.
"Hermione, you look absolutely stunning." Snape's voice was low and husky as he reached down and took her hand, which he brought to his lips for a tender kiss.
She was too shocked to speak. Not only had his bedroom transformed itself into a showroom for Romantic Fanatics 'R' Us, but he himself... She would have giggled if she wasn't so shocked. He was wearing dress robes of silver-grey raw silk and his hair, totally non-greasy now, was tied behind his nape with a black ribbon. On his face, the sarcastic smirk he usually wore had been replaced with a look of open admiration and an appreciative smile. What the hell had happened to the surly Potions Master, she wondered.
Smiling, he led her over to the table and pulled out her chair for her. He then proceeded to open the bottle of champagne and fill both their glasses before he sat down. He clinked his glass to hers and they both sipped the cold, bubbling liquid in silence.
"Welcome to my table," he said, with a tip of his head.
"Thank you," she replied, hard pressed to hold back her laughter now. "I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, sir. You must be Severus' nice twin." His eyes glittered at the comment.
"Indeed? What could possibly make you doubt my identity? You don't mean to imply that this,” he indicated the room and his clothes with a sweep of his hand, “is a bit, oh, I don't know, out of character perhaps?" She did her very best to keep a straight face.
"Oh, no, not at all! I always assumed that there was a fluffy little romantic soul under all that black fabric." She smiled at him mischievously. "What's next? Pink, fluffy teddy bears on the shelf? A serenade to my exquisite beauty?" His smile widened.
"Well, I was considering putting a charm on the roses so that they would read sickly sweet sonnets to you while we ate, and make the bubbles in your champagne glass form messages of love as they rose to the surface..."
"And you decided not to? I'm so disappointed!" She put on a full pout and looked up at him through her eyelashes. Damn, it was hard not to smile!
"Maybe I could make it up to you? A rainbow over the table? Glittering hearts twinkling across the room? A unicorn over by the bed?" The mock concern in his voice made her laugh out loud.
"Thank you, I think I'll manage."
"Thank god, I'd like to be able to eat something tonight." He waved his wand and the top plate was suddenly filled with what looked like a shrimp and crayfish salad, with different kinds of lettuce, croutons and a lemon vinaigrette on top.
She took a bite. It was absolutely delicious. She wondered whether he'd conjured it up himself or had had the house elves make it. Putting down her fork, she looked up at him, taking another sip of the champagne.
"So just what is the purpose of this little charade anyway?"
"There are several, actually."
"Care to elaborate?"
"Well, the main objective is to convince Dumbledore of the purity of and our mutual investment in our little liaison, and I thought a chaste, courteous romantic dinner would satisfy him more than the other more, well, carnal activities I had in mind for this evening." There was a devilish glimmer in his eyes now.
"Is he watching us?"
"Perverted old bat, isn't he?"
"But he can't hear us?"
"Obviously, as I'm talking to you about things I wouldn't want him to overhear."
"How long will he watch us before he leaves us alone?"
"Oh, I'd say until what he sees makes him feel like a dirty old man." They both chuckled at the comment.
"How about right now?" she whispered, stroking his knee with her own under the table.
"Appearances, Miss Granger," he said with a would-be-stern look. "We should at least make it through the main course before we submit to temptation. We're supposed to show some self-control and purity of mind here."
"Of course," she said lightly. "So while we sit here and enjoy our food and pretend to be the disgustingly perfect well-behaved couple, why don't we use the time to talk about some things a little more important than puppies and flowers?"
"Any particular topic in mind?"
"Yes, actually. What happened after Dumbledore called you to his office this afternoon?" She looked more serious now and felt nervousness bubble in her stomach.
"Nothing I hadn't already foreseen," was his short answer. "He did his fatherly routine and I countered with the 'I'm-not-aware-of-my-own-feelings-and-aggressive-about-it’-routine. He then, through a lot of talking and protesting, 'made me realise' my true feelings about you," he grinned and speared a shrimp with his fork, putting it in his mouth. "Then, naturally, I had to do the 'No-this-can't-be-happening-to-me'-charade, which, after some tea and fatherly advice, turned into mute acceptance. I think I handled myself quite well." He smirked.
"So basically, you lied to him." She didn't look too happy.
"I thought that would be more beneficent to us than telling the truth. Gryffindors like Albus are so sentimental."
She sat silent for a while, eating her salad and sipping her drink, gathering courage for the questions she knew she must ask.
"So what is the truth?" she managed, looking up at him nervously.
"That's a very wide concept, would you care to be a bit more specific?"
"Do you love me?"
"Does it matter?"
"Of course it does."
"Really? In what way? Or let me rephrase the question: In what way would our relations be different if I did?" He looked at her with intense eyes. She found she couldn't answer the question.
"I never could understand why you Gryffindors are so obsessed with the notion of love," he continued, sipping his champagne thoughtfully. "You seem to think that as long as there is love, everything is just fine." He leaned in a bit closer. "Well, is that your opinion? Does love always equal happiness and a good life? Think of what you've experienced this past week..."
She remained silent for a long time, thinking things over. The second course appeared on their plates, a creamy saffron and salmon pasta with fresh parmesan sprinkled on top. Snape refilled their glasses and they shared a silent toast before digging in. When half the pasta was gone from her plate, she finally spoke.
"I guess the question of love is only important because of what it might symbolise."
"Go on."
"I think most people see love as a guarantee that the other person will do certain things, like remain loyal, be nice, try to please the other person, avoid infidelity and such..." She tilted her head to the side, trying to read his reaction but failing miserably, as usual. "It's like in the books - declaration of love equals perfect, happy life, ever after." He snorted.
"And that doesn't strike you as a bit naive?"
"I hadn't really thought about it until now. I always just assumed that was how it would work... but now that I think about it, it does seem quite naive."
"The notion of love is often tied to our expectations in life, that is true. So tell me, Hermione, what do you really want? And don't think in terms of what you ought to want, think about what you would really want." He'd stopped eating, she noticed, and a shudder went through her as he grabbed one of her hands across the table, caressing the fingers in the same way as he'd done nearly a week ago in the Potions classroom.
"Well..." She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat that was spreading in her through the combined efforts of his touch and the wine. "I'd want to keep studying after my NEWTS, like doing an apprenticeship. I'd like to work somewhere where I could change things, make things better. I had considered going into the Ministry of Magic, but after last year, I don't find that option very attractive anymore. Hmm... I want to keep seeing my friends as much as possible, though I imagine we'll lead very different lives once we leave Hogwarts... Ron wants to play Quidditch and Harry wants to be an Auror. I don't know what I want to be... possibly a Healer or maybe a Professor." She broke off, not knowing what to list after that.
"How about the typical dreams of young girls? Husbands and babies and picket fences and all?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't know. Parvati and Lavender talk about things like that all the time, and Ginny seems to have a pretty clear picture of what she wants as well. I don't know. I never really liked babies and I don't think I'd want any. I might change my mind in say, ten-fifteen years or so, but I can't see myself having more than one or two. I've spent too much time with the Weasleys to consider having a large family. And I hate picket fences," she smiled, drawing a chuckle from him. Suddenly, something hit her. "Hey, is this one of those 'where is this relationship going'-conversations?" She threw him an accusatory look across the table.
"Hardly, as we don't actually have a 'relationship'. We just sleep together a lot."
"I like sleeping with you."
"I noticed that." He grinned and filled up her glass a third time. She was starting to feel light-headed. It was a nice feeling.
"You're very good in bed."
"Thank you."
"I don't want us to stop just because the binding breaks." There, it was out, now she awaited his reaction.
"No? And what if Dumbledore tells you that your behaviour is unpardonable and that he'll expel you if you ever come near me again while still in school?"
"He said it himself, he can't expel me while Voldemort is still out there."
"That is true, but he could give you a year-long detention with Filch, scrubbing the Entrance Hall with a tooth brush. Albus can be rather inventive at times, and I'd rather not find out the punishment he'd have in store for me." He shuddered and downed his drink in one go.
"We could be careful, only meeting in places where he couldn't discover us," she tried, wanting to find a solution.
"Wouldn't work. He can observe the entire school if he so chooses. If he's set on keeping us under observation, I doubt that we would escape. No, the best option, should we decide that we want to keep this going, is to convince him that our relations are vital to that little clever piece of magic you and Potter dug up and continue as we were with his blessing." He laughed. "God, he'd hate that!"
"Are you saying that I need Professor Dumbledore to sign a permission form, giving me the right to shag my teacher whenever I feel like it?" she asked with an innocent look in her eyes.
"Yes, something like that," he said, an evil grin on his face.
They sat in silence for a while, each thinking about the situation they were in. Severus had already pondered the problem for a while and come to the conclusion that if Dumbledore followed his sense of propriety, he would express his "deepest regrets" and stay away from Hermione. He'd be sorry to have her gone from his bed, but really, she was only a girl. He'd gone on for 38 years without her and would no doubt survive another century or so. His body would be disappointed, and he'd no doubt frequent certain establishments in Knockturn Alley quite regularly for the first month or so, but then, things would go back to normal. The effect she was starting to have on him was disquieting and he knew his brain would be quite relieved to get rid of her, despite violent protests from other parts of his body.
The revelation of their magical connection had shocked him more than the fact that Dumbledore had found out their secret. Dumbledore had explained the ancient magical ritual to him and he'd felt a trickle of undiluted fear go down his spine. If the Dark Lord ever found out about this, and found out that he knew about it, that would be the end of him. Twenty years of careful plotting would go right down the drain and he would be dead before he could even reach for his wand. His plan of not choosing a side had been taken away from him - Fate had decided that he would make a choice and play a pivotal part in the last battle. He would not stand on both sides - or on nobody's side if you wanted to see it like that - he would either complete the circle of the Four and go with the Light or break the circle and thereby rob the Boy-Who-Lived of his most powerful weapon. Either way, he would make a difference, and if the side he chose lost, he would have burnt his bridges.
He understood Dumbledore's dilemma probably better than anyone, and certainly a lot better than Hermione and her arrogant side-kick would. To them, this was a question of moral principles and school rules. He knew that that was a small concern for the Headmaster. Naturally, Dumbledore would be very opposed to one of his teacher having a sexual relationship with one of his students, but it was the fact that he was that teacher and Hermione was that student which really troubled him, he guessed. The chances of Hermione getting out of her "relationship" with him unscathed were miniscule and Dumbledore knew enough of his often cruel character to know that he wouldn't spare the girl pain if he ever faced the choice between her happiness and his own. He was a selfish man, whose cynicism had grown with every year of corruption and betrayal that he'd seen. She was a very young, very inexperienced and very giving girl from the House that valued love, heroism, bravery and personal sacrifice for a higher cause as the highest virtues. It could only end in one way, and it would most likely not be very pretty.
He'd told her the truth in the bathroom as he was doing up her hair. He was not, and would never be, a nice man. This dinner was a charade, complete with pretty clothes, pretty manners and pretty conversation. It was not the real him.
For a second he wondered what the "real him" was. He'd played so many roles and played them so well over the last 30-35 years that he had a hard time making out what was an act and what was part of his underlying character. He didn't even know if he had an underlying character anymore, something that was part of some mystical essence, that would never change, would always be him no matter what he went through. He frowned to himself. He'd always found the theory of every person as a tabula rasa highly attractive, but he'd never really made up his mind on the subject...
"You never answered my question." The somewhat timid voice broke his train of thought and he focused his attention on Hermione.
"Which question?"
"Whether or not you loved me." He could tell she was nervous and it was painfully obvious what kind of answer she was hoping for. He sighed.
"Really, Hermione, what difference does it make? What do you want from me?"
"I don't know, I-I guess I just want to know how you feel about me."
"Are you sure? It might not be what you want to hear." He eyed her intently, wondering just how far her Gryffindor courage would take her. She sipped her wine and nodded, meeting his eyes.
"Alright then," he said, filling her glass with a rich red wine to go with the main course (filet mignon and garlic potatoes) that had just appeared in front of them. "Remember that you brought this upon yourself." He drew a deep breath and could almost see how the tension in her mounted with each second. He suppressed a smile.
"The truth is - since I assume that's what you're asking for, even though it's probably not what you want - that I've had a very pleasant week with you. Physically, we are very compatible and I've enjoyed our bed sports. I like pleasing you and your reactions to me are both satisfying and arousing. Your love too is very gratifying. I also must admit that I find your company quite tolerable. I'm a very private man and you annoy me very little, infinitely less so than most women I've met. You have a practical mind and you respect my privacy. You don't nag me - with the exception of tonight - to get to know my feelings and you don't try to remodel me into a knight in shining armour. Those are all things that I greatly appreciate. I can assure you, had you had the infuriating ways of most women, we would, after the first couple of days, have met only once a day for fifteen minutes to fulfil the requirement of the True Bond, and I would by now have no more interest in you than I would in the average one-night stand."
He paused to take a sip from his glass and study her face. The expression was guarded and didn't show much emotion. She looked concentrated, like he was lecturing on some new, magical substance which greatly interested her. Perhaps he was, he mused.
"I am myself very much surprised with my reactions to you. Your honesty and emotional generosity fascinate me, and there's something about you that keeps my interest alive. Physically, my desire for you is very strong, which this magical connection between us illustrates. Intellectually, you're decent conversation and share many of my interests. Though you may not be among the most beautiful women I know, you have a very strong and attractive charisma - most sensual as a matter of fact." He tilted his head to the side and watched her face, trying to discern her thoughts.
"Believe me, Hermione. Were you just a pretty face, we wouldn't even be here. I've slept with many women a great deal prettier than you and I've always grown bored quickly. The magical ritual you and Potter discovered today suggests that we would be a very good match, and perhaps we would be. I have no plans of domestic life, however. Not now, not in the future. I've never felt the need to produce an heir and I doubt that I ever will. I don't like children, which is a big reason for why I'm such a pleasant teacher, as you've undoubtedly noticed." She smiled at that and he took another sip of his wine, preparing for the final blow.
"It all comes down to a few simple facts really. I've known Dumbledore for many years, and even though he is a sentimental old man, he won't give up the best chance he has at victory against the Dark Lord to protect you. He will sacrifice you for the cause, assuring the life of his wonderful Harry Potter. He will swear us to secrecy and discretion and leave us to our own devices. It will weigh heavily on his conscience, but he will bear it, telling himself that perhaps, this will lead to good things in the end. That perhaps you will change me into a happy, loving man and he can come by to play with our children one day. That I will realise how lucky I am to have you by my side. That we are, in fact, soul mates and that you can't fight fate. He will monitor your happiness and you will appear happy out of fear that if you're not, he will change his decision and take me away from you."
"How is letting me be with you giving me up as a sacrifice?" Her eyes showed some fear now, mixed with hope from his words about Dumbledore's probable decision. He leaned forward and cupped her chin with one hand, gently stroking her soft cheek with his thumb, his lips but inches from hers.
"Because, my dear, the fairy tale won't happen and the loving future will never come. There won't be a glittering ring, a grand wedding and children running around in the sun. Life with me will be in the shadows, in the darkness of the night and of the soul. You will be my mistress and we will enjoy each other in every way, drawing every drop of pleasure from our bodies and minds and eventually grow restless, bored, apart. With your practical mind, you might be able to suppress your longings for a time, perhaps even for many years, but the time will come when you'll want a normal life, away from the dungeons, without secrecy. When you'll want a man to introduce to your parents, to be accepted and liked by your friends, to walk with his arm around you down Diagon Alley, proud to show his love for you to the world. Eventually, you will want the kind of self-sacrificing, identity-merging love you know I could never give you." He caressed a shivering lip with his thumb and then wiped away a tear that was rolling down her cheek.
"And when that day comes, and realisation hits you, you'll run crying away from me, clutching a shattered heart and cursing yourself for choosing the wrong man back when you were little more than a child and throwing your youth away. And I will resume my life as it was before you came into it, putting our time together behind me like a strange but pleasant dream. This is the truth, Hermione. You'll be the lamb led willingly to the slaughter, sacrificing your chance of true happiness for the good of the world, to save your best friend and to pursue an impossible love, where you'll never know if the next day will be the day when realisation hits or the day when I grow bored and discard you. Now tell me, will you accept that sacrifice?"
"Without hesitation" The words were little more than a whisper and the look he saw in her eyes then almost frightened him. It was loyalty and defiance, hope and fear, and pure, undiluted love such as he had never seen before.
Mesmerised, he stared into her hazel depths which seemed to promise him the world, before they were slowly covered with shimmering lids and black lashes and he felt her lips claim his in a fierce, unyielding kiss...
***
The kiss quickly fanned their desire and Hermione felt herself being yanked from her seat at the table and swept off her feet with such force that her chair and one of her glasses fell to the floor with a crash. The crystal shattered when it hit the stone and spread its red contents over the grey surface. Neither of them even noticed.
He carried her over to the bed, brandishing his wand and getting rid of the ridiculous rose petals before putting her down on it and covering her body with his. There was an urgency to her movements which he recognised as a sign of great emotion. In the library, she had behaved much the same, when she was trying to suppress her feelings through physical pleasure. This time, however, he had a feeling that she was doing the exact opposite – she was trying to express the depth of her emotions for him. It was really quite touching. And very unsettling.
“Deshabilio.” He felt his clothes vanish and then, as she repeated the charm, hers as well. He quickly snatched his wand back.
“Reverso.” Her clothes came back, except for the skirt, and he felt the tickling sensation of lace against his skin. She looked up at him, dismay written all over her face.
“No,” she whispered in his ear, wrestling for the wand he was holding behind his back. “I’m sure you have a lot of nice plans for me in these pretty things, but now is not the time. I want you. All of you. Now.” He yielded his wand and felt her underwear vanish a second time, leaving warm, smooth skin under his hands and body.
“Tactilio.” A red light emerged from the wand and surrounded both of them for a few seconds before it went away. In its wake was a new sensation, like every nerve in his body had suddenly become ten times more sensitive. He knew the spell, it was a Sensitivity Charm, usually used by mediwizards when they examined their patients. He’d never pictured it used in this way before, but smiled at her inventiveness.
Hermione placed the wand on the bedside table and concentrated fully on the sensations in her body. The Sensitivity Charm and the alcohol combined made her skin tingle wherever she came in contact with him. She placed a hand on his heart and felt it beat, hard and fast. She wanted more, and with a quick, fluid movement, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, kissed him hard and pulled him into her.
They both gasped at the contact and became very still, looking into each other’s eyes in wonder. Finally, Severus moved again, one long slow stroke, concentration written all over his face. They both let out another gasp.
“Do you feel that?” he said, his voice sounding very strained.
“It’s amazing,” she whispered back. “It’s like I can feel… I don’t know exactly… what you feel I guess. It’s like I’m in both our bodies at the same time.” She moved against him and echoed his sharp intake of breath. “God, I never knew how good it felt for you when I did that.”
“I’m equally stunned,” he assured her, clasping his eyes tightly shut as he moved slowly, enjoying the double sensation. “I guess this explains why you women can’t have sex without falling in love – this is bloody unbelievable!” He kissed her hard, trying to keep control over his body as the new sensations flooded his system.
“Give me my wand.” His voice had an urgent ring to it.
“Why?” she asked breathlessly, as she ran her hands over his thighs to see how her touch felt there.
“Because unless I cast an Endurance Charm, this experiment will be over very quickly,” he said in a very dry voice. Smiling knowingly, she handed it to him.
Chapter 16 – Rising Tension
Ron Weasley awoke to a feeling of considerable pain and disorientation. He was very cold, his head hurt and he felt empty inside. He looked around and found that he was sitting in a small cave, surrounded by darkness. Silence was complete and he felt as though the world had ceased to be. For a moment, he wondered if he was dead.
Memory slowly came back to him and as soon as it did, he wished it hadn’t. The fight with Hermione, the traces of another man’s presence in her bedroom and the conversation between her and Harry replayed in his mind until he thought he’d go mad. He still couldn’t believe that his best friends would betray him in such a way, but what he’d seen left him in no doubt of their present relationship. He wondered how long it had been going on for. The conversation he’d overheard that morning had made it sound like last night had been their first together… His insides suddenly froze. Was that the reason she’d said she didn’t want to be with him anymore? She wanted Harry all along? He’d thought she’d been flirting with Harry to make him jealous. What if it was the other way around? Or had she gone to Harry because she was upset they had broken up? Was it a comfort-thing? A million different thoughts were flying through his mind, making his throbbing head hurt even more. He had to get some answers.
With a determined sigh, he stood up, swayed a little from the pain in his head and the soreness in his frozen body, picked up his broom and kicked off into the air.
***
A few hours later he landed on Hermione’s window sill. He’d been hovering outside for a minute, wanting to make sure that she was alone in there. Knowing that she was sleeping with his best friend didn’t mean he wanted to actually catch them at it. He jumped down to the floor and looked around the room. Empty.
He walked over to the bed and spotted a white card lying next to a box with a silver ribbon. He picked it up, not wanting to read what it said but incapable of stopping himself.
Dinner in my chambers 7 o’ clock.
Wear this.
Only this.
Rage descended on him as he crumpled up the note and threw it into the fire with a loud cry. So she’d gone to him again, had she? How could they? How could they do this to him? He remembered Harry’s fervent promises from a couple of months ago, could see him before his eyes, begging him to believe that he didn’t have a shred of interest in Hermione. Liars!
Ten seconds later, he was pounding his fists against the door to Harry’s chambers.
“Harry, open up! I knew she’s in there!” he shouted, anger having taken him over completely. He could hear muffled voices from inside the room, feet moving hastily over the floor. After what felt like a small eternity, Harry opened the door.
“Ron, please calm down, I can explain –” His hair was even messier than usual and he was wearing only his Gryffindor bathrobe. He looked very nervous.
“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! How could you Harry? You’re supposed to be my best friend!”
“I know, I’m really sorry –“
“Sorry?! You’re sorry?!” Ron let out a disbelieving snort. “Sorry doesn’t fucking cover it! Where is she?” His eyes went around the room, looking for a sign of Hermione.
“Ron, please just listen!” Harry pleaded. “I know I should have talked to you about it first, but things just sort of happened, I –“
“Just happened, eh? Seems to me like the timing was a little too bloody convenient for the two of you to just ‘start happening’! How long has this been going on behind my back?!”
“It hasn’t, I promise! We only really got together a few days ago. I wanted to tell you today, but I haven’t seen you at all. Where have you been?”
“Well, let’s just say that I happened to see something this morning that made me want to get away for a while,” he said in a sarcastic voice. Harry visibly blanched.
“Nice to know that my friends are so loyal to me,” he continued. “No wonder you almost got sorted into Slytherin! For fuck’s sake Harry! She’s my –“
“I know, I know!”
“You’ve broken the code! That’s like the worst thing you can do to your best friend! You don’t go after your best friend’s mother, sister or girlfriend! You just don’t! Except you did,” he finished with a snarl.
“I know. I don’t know what to say.”
“Do you love her?” Harry could tell that Ron was having difficulty getting the question out, he almost choked on the words.
“Yes,” he answered softly. “I know what she means to you Ron, and I’m really sorry you had to find out this way, but… what can I say? She’s a great girl, and she means more to me than I can even express. And she claims she loves me too! How could I refuse that?” He looked at him with a pleading look in his eyes. “I understand that you’re angry, and I figured you would be, but I honestly didn’t think you’d take it this hard. I actually thought you’d be a little happy for us…”
“Happy?!!! Are you completely insane?!!! Why would you shagging my girlfriend make me happy?!!!” he shouted. Harry looked completely thrown.
“What?!” was the only thing he could get out. Ron looked at him with a murderous look in his eyes.
“Don’t even think about denying it!” he shouted. “I saw you together, having your sickening-sweet ‘morning after’-talk. I saw your hair on her pillow! I saw the note on her bed, telling her to come here tonight for ‘dinner’! You’re sleeping with Hermione, Harry, don’t deny it.”
“What?!!!” came an outraged voice from the bedroom. The next moment, Ginny appeared in the doorway, wrapped only in a sheet. She had her wand in her hand and looked positively livid.
“What the fuck is my sister doing here?!!” Ron screamed as he saw her. “And why is she wearing nothing but a bloody sheet?!” Ron’s wand was out as well now, pointed straight at Harry’s heart.
“Expelliarmus” Both of the Weasley’s wands flew out of their hands before they had even noticed that Harry had reached for his. He pointed his wand at both of them and motioned them over to the couch. They reluctantly complied, each shooting daggers with their eyes.
“Ok, let’s sort this out,” Harry said, trying to keep his voice calm. Ron and Ginny immediately started shouting again and he put a swift Silencing Charm on both, before he turned to the eldest Weasley.
“Ron, I assure you that I have never slept with Hermione.” He then turned to Ginny and repeated the same thing. “I have broken the ‘Code’, and for that I am very sorry, but I’ve never slept with your girlfriend! It’s your sister I’m in love with,” he finished silently, looking at Ginny with glowing eyes. He then lifted the Silencing Charm and braced himself for their onslaught. None came. Ron was staring at Ginny, who blushed and averted her eyes. Finally, Ron spoke:
“But I saw your hair on her pillow and I heard you talking about having had sex this morning! How do you explain that?” he said, a challenging look on his face.
“I don’t know what you heard, Ron, but I can assure you that you misunderstood the situation. I was not in Hermione’s bed last night, and I think Ginny can back me up there.” They both looked at Ginny, who blushed again.
“I still saw what I saw!” Ron shouted, getting wired up again. “If you didn’t sleep with her, how did your hair end up in her bed?!”
“It wasn’t mine,” Harry said silently. “I can’t tell you whose it was, because Hermione swore me to secrecy. She has a lover, Ron. I’m sorry. I just found out this afternoon myself. She’s really upset about the mess she’s made of everything, but she says she can’t give it up. She actually loves the guy.” His face was stony as he said this and he had to fight hard with himself not to let the disgust he felt about Hermione and Snape surface. Ron couldn’t know. Nor could Ginny. The ritual was too important for the secret to leak out. He and Dumbledore had agreed that Ginny should be told she needed Occlumency lessons because dating Harry made her even more of a target. He, Dumbledore, Hermione and Snape would be the only ones who knew about the ritual.
“It’s Neville, isn’t it?!” Ron said with disgust. “I’ll flay that little bugger…”
“It’s not Neville,” Harry said in a sharp voice. “I can’t tell you who it is, so stop guessing!”
“Tell me!” Ron was yelling now. “Accio wand!” His wand flew into his hand and he pointed it at Harry. “I don’t want to fight you, Harry, so just tell me who it is!”
“No.” Harry’s wand pointed back at him. “Don’t do this, Ron, please don’t.”
“Tarantellegra!” he shouted.
“Protego!” Harry yelled, and the curse was deflected. It ricocheted off one of the walls and hit Ginny square in the face. Her legs started twitching wildly and she fell, hitting her head at the corner of the marble table as she fell.
“Ginny!” Harry called, dodging a Jelly-legs hex from Ron as he ran to her. Ron didn’t seem to notice that his sister was lying on the ground. From the looks of it, anger had made him snap completely.
“Stupefy!” Harry cried. Ron tried to duck, but the spell hit his shoulder and he fell to the ground, becoming motionless. Harry quickly crawled over to Ginny and felt her pulse. It was still there and he let out a sigh of relief. Her legs were still moving, so he said a Finite Incantatem and she lay still. Blood was streaming from a wound at the side of her head where she’s hit the table and he tried to stem it with a piece of cloth that he’d torn from his bathrobe. Worry written on his face, he lifted her up in his arms – sheet and all – and hurried towards the hospital wing.
Twenty minutes later, he was looking at both their faces, pale and ghostly in the moonlight. Madam Pomfrey had mended Ginny’s wound in a matter of seconds and said that she would be “as good as new” after a good night’s sleep. He’d asked her not to wake either of them up for a while longer, until he’d had the time to speak to the Headmaster. She’d looked at him in a strange way but agreed without asking any questions.
He hurriedly walked down the stairs and almost ran down the corridors to Dumbledore’s office. There, he gave a quick summary of the night’s events. The Headmaster told him to find Hermione and bring her back to his office. With dread in his heart, he walked down the steps towards the dungeons.
***
“I love you Severus,” Hermione said, as she snuggled up to him and kissed him softly, letting her tongue lazily stroke his as he kissed her back and pulled her more firmly against him. “I didn’t even think it was possible to feel this much love.”
“I know,” he answered, swallowing heavily. “I mean –” He broke off. What did he mean, he asked himself. It was like his brain was surrounded by thick fog and he couldn’t think clearly anymore. His heart suddenly felt so big in his chest and he felt overwhelming happiness over having Hermione in his arms mixed with a piercing fear of losing her. He pulled her closer and breathed in the scent of her hair. He wanted never to let her go…
The thought made his insides freeze and he stiffened. He looked down at the girl who had fallen asleep curled up in his arms and a shiver went through his body. His own words from before came back to him, ”I guess this explains why you women can’t have sex without falling in love…” The charm had made him feel what she felt, not only physically, but emotionally as well. The feelings in her heart had been mirrored in his, and everything she’d experienced, he’d felt also. Their lovemaking had been perfection, each feeling exactly how every touch was felt by the other, both making the most of the experience.
He’d always known that he had a talent for pleasing women. He hadn’t known just how good he apparently was however. He sensed that Hermione was a special case, that not many women shared her level of passion and that not all bodies fit so perfectly against his own, but still… He closed his eyes and remembered how it had felt to move inside her, thrusting deep, hitting her most sensitive spot, again and again…
There was no doubt women had got the better deal. He’d thought they were pretty equal when he first pleasured her with his tongue and fingers, but when her first g-spot orgasm hit a little while later, he’d realised how wrong he’d been. He’d never felt anything like it, and the combined sensations of her climax and her muscles contracting around his length made stars dance in his range of vision. He continued to move inside her, stimulating her breasts as well as other sensitive parts, and the pleasure kept flooding his system. He lost all grasp of reality and any sense of himself as a separate being as they were fused together into one body, one heart, one mind. He could do nothing but moan and try to keep conscious as they climaxed, again and again. The Endurance Charm finally wore off and his release came at the same time as her fifth or sixth (he’d lost count) trip to the stars. He was vaguely aware of words falling from his lips, hands lovingly caressing her face, kissing her desperately, his heart exploding in his chest, holding her so tightly against him, she had to fight to be able to breathe.
His heart had felt so full of her, aching like a burning pain in his chest. He knew it was her feelings for him that he was actually experiencing in reverse, but he just couldn’t believe it. How was it possible that she could love him so much? He knew the immense physical pleasure was a big part of it, but there was another side to it as well. He’d felt her tenderness and her admiration, her fierce loyalty and the calm knowledge that he – Severus Snape – was the man she wanted to spend her life with.
He’d always despised love, purposefully staying away from it, priding himself on the control he had over his body and his heart. He’d decided to keep love out of his life and had always succeeded. Until today, when a Sensitivity Spell and a sixteen-year-old girl showed him how love felt, what he could have if he only reached out his hand to take it. It was more tempting than anything he’d ever been offered before, including the power the Dark Lord had offered him years earlier. He envisioned a life with her by his side and felt a jolt of pure happiness. He’d take her far away from her stupid friends, somewhere where they could be alone and not have to suffer other people’s idiocy. She’d make a decent work partner and he could concentrate on his work and research, perhaps having his own apothecary’s shop one day…
No. He pulled his mind away from the dangerous path it was treading and made it see reason. Allowing himself to love Hermione would be taking too great a risk. It would make him weaker, less in control, and until the Dark Lord was defeated, it was bloody suicide. His skill at Occlumency would not be sufficient to hide so strong an emotion. The Dark Lord would know, and probably kill him.
There, in the dark room, illuminated only by the fireplace and some forgotten candles, he made his decision: he would end his affair with Hermione when dawn came. He would cloak his feelings with a strong Somnium Potion and hide them at the back of his mind, disguised as a strange and somewhat unfocused dream. He’d keep his desire alive for the sake of the ritual and probably shag her from time to time when wanting her became too strong, but he’d never let her get under his skin again, not the way she had the last couple of days, and especially not the way she had tonight. He would keep his heart at a safe distance, away from her. It would all come to an end.
Trying to get control over the terrible pain that spread in his chest, he hugged Hermione closer and kissed the brown curls fiercely. He would hold her, touch her and watch her sleep for the remainder of the night, taking advantage of every minute before he’d be forced to leave her.
A couple of minutes later, somebody started knocking hard on the door…
***
Severus Snape cursed and slid off the bed, putting on a dressing robe before he walked out into his office towards the outer door of his chambers. His mood blackened with every step and he hoped it would be a student on the other side, someone he could take out his anger on and remove a large amount of House points from. Lifting his wand, he removed the wards and opened the door.
“Ah, Potter,” he said in a silky tone. “Why am I not surprised at your blatant disrespect for other people’s sleep?” His lips curled in a wicked smile. “20 points from Gryff-”
“Oh, shut it!” Harry interrupted him, “sir,” he added as Snape’s eyes turned positively murderous. “It’s not like I wanted to come down here. Dumbledore sent me to get Hermione, I assumed you would know where she was.” If looks could kill, both would have been dead in an instant. They continued to glare at each other for a long time, before Snape stepped aside with a snort.
“By all means, Potter, please step inside,” he said in scathing tones. Harry quickly complied and swiftly crossed the office floor. When he reached the bedroom door, he hesitated before turning the handle and walking inside.
He stopped abruptly at the threshold, disbelief written all over his face as his eyes took in the beautiful surroundings, stopping at Hermione’s blissful, sleeping face.
“What did you expect, a pit with snake sculptures and skeletons everywhere?” Snape’s sarcastic voice came from behind. Harry couldn’t find an answer and just stood rooted to the spot as he watched Snape walk over to the bed and whisper something in Hermione’s ear. Snape’s soft caress of her cheek and the happiness that shone in her eyes as she first opened them didn’t escape his attention, and for a split second, he forgot to be angry and almost felt happy for his friend. The feeling quickly disappeared though - it was Snape after all.
“Harry!” Hermione’s voice was half shock, half worry. “What are you doing here?”
Harry quickly explained the situation and repeated Dumbledore’s wish that she would come to his office as soon as possible. She looked very worried at the news and started looking around for something to wear.
“Severus, lend me your wand, please,” she said as she realised that not a shred of clothing was to be found anywhere near the bed. He came over from where he’d been standing over by the fireplace and handed it to her. With a quick spell, the beautiful clothes she had worn to dinner reappeared in a pile on top of the silk sheets.
“Harry, would you mind turning your back while I get dressed?” she asked. Harry quickly complied, his cheeks feeling very warm. “Severus, could you help me with the laces, please, I’m afraid I can’t recall the Lacing Charm…”
She expected him to take the wand and do them up magically, the way she had earlier in the evening, and let out a small gasp as she felt his strong hands on her back. Making sure Potter’s back was turned, he started working her laces by hand, stroking her shoulders and arms whenever he could.
“Lift up your hair, or it will get stuck,” he said in a would-be casual voice, throwing another look in Potter’s direction. She detected the restrained desire in his words and lifted the mass of curls with trembling hands, exposing her neck to him.
Her breathing became more difficult, both because of the corset and the way Snape was playing with the skin on her shoulders and neck. His lips and tongue were wandering over all her sensitive areas, and she pressed herself back more firmly against him as his arms came around her and caressed her breasts briefly before taking up the lacy thong and easing it up over her legs in a painfully slow way.
“There, your laces are up. I trust you can do the rest yourself,” he said in his trademark cool voice while moving the tiny knickers higher, stroking the insides of her thighs as he went.
“Yes, thank you,” she replied, trying to keep her voice equally even, one eye making sure that Harry was still facing the wall. She pressed against Snape’s upper body for leverage, lifting her hips off the bed and allowing him to pull the thong into place. It was clear he wasn’t in a hurry from the way he teased the skin on her thighs and buttocks, moving the delicate lace aside to stroke more sensitive spots. She managed not to utter a single sound as his fingers moved over the little bundle of nerves, but the way she shuddered and clenched her teeth together told him that desire was taking her over. He threw a look at Potter who was still facing the wall but looking more tense and uncomfortable with every passing minute. He smiled a very wicked smile and picked up his wand.
“Silencio,” he whispered softly, pointing it at Hermione. She looked back at him with a half worried, half grateful look in her eyes. In response, he fastened the garter belt around her hips and took up one of the silk stockings which he started to slowly roll up her leg. She shuddered and he saw her mouth open in a soundless moan as the silk caressed her soft skin. Smirking, he turned his attention to Potter.
“Tell me, Potter,” he said, keeping his voice calm and slightly bored while letting his hands run over Hermione’s smooth skin as he rolled up and fastened her other stocking. “are you still as inept at Occlumency as you proved last year?”
“Not at all, the change in teachers helped a lot,” he answered. Snape could almost see the smile on his face from behind. Cheeky bastard.
“I’m glad to hear that Dumbledore has managed to teach you at least some rudimentary protection, what with the Dark Lord dancing in and out of your mind as he pleases,” he said, pleased to see the boy’s back stiffen. Concentrating on Hermione again, he pressed her hard against him and let one hand find its way into her cleavage as the other moved downwards to finish what he started when he put on her thong.
“Worrying about what he might find about you, are you?” Harry said in a scathing voice, feeling his anger rise.
“Naturally.” He was having a hard time concentrating on distracting Potter as the girl in his arms started to shudder and arch in his grasp. God, how he wished that the stupid boy would just leave so that he could make love to her properly for the rest of the night…
Potter said something else, but he didn’t hear him. Hermione had turned around in his arms and was kissing him feverishly, pushing him back against the bed. He grabbed his wand and lifted the Silencing Charm on her with an evil smile in Harry’s direction. A soft moan escaped her before she had the time to register that she was no longer mute and Harry spun around.
They just stared at each other for a second, before Hermione blushed and jumped off the bed, straightening her skirt and walking over to him.
“Are you coming? I believe Dumbledore is waiting,” she asked in her best strict voice, very much like the one Professor McGonagall was prone to using. Harry threw Snape a last dirty look and went out after her.
Severus Snape listened to their steps as they walked out of his chambers and the smile quickly faded from his face. If the two Weasleys knew, it wouldn’t be long before the secret spread, and that just wasn’t allowed to happen. He knew that they were both lying unconscious in the hospital wing at the moment. Good, that facilitated his task. From his pocket, he withdrew a piece of parchment he had retrieved from the fire while Harry was describing the night’s events to Hermione. His eyes wandered over the words again as he repeated the things he’d have to do in his mind.
Severus,
Ron and Ginny Weasley are currently in the hospital wing, recovering from a duel. Their knowledge of Hermione’s present involvement with an unknown man is deeply troublesome given their somewhat stubborn natures and deep interest in the girl’s personal life. I would be very pleased if you could help me stabilise the situation while I have a talk with Harry and Hermione in my office.
Best of luck,
Albus
Severus sighed, put on his usual black robes and made his way to the hospital wing. Trust Potter and his side-kick to put them all in danger. Not this time though. It would all come to an end before morning, he’d see to that…
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