Old fic repost (Love Potion no. 9, ch 17)
Mar. 2nd, 2009 12:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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Chapter 17 – The End
Ron and Ginny Weasley were both sleeping peacefully when he reached them. They were lying in beds next to each other in the otherwise empty hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen; he supposed she’d gone to sleep after taking care of her last patients.
Raising his wand, he said a soft incantation and watched the younger Weasley’s body rise from the bed. He levitated her across the room, to a bed at the end of the ward that stood half hidden behind a screen. Narrowing his eyes in concentration, he set to work.
“Legillimens” Ginny twitched a bit but didn’t wake up. He carefully worked his way through her memories, sifting out the ones that related to the knowledge of him as Hermione’s lover and the Pillar of Light. He found very little, only Harry’s admission to Hermione’s mysterious man and some conversations with Hermione herself which struck him as suspicious. Ginny didn’t know anything really, but she suspected things and that was nearly as bad, considering the nosy and determined nature of the girl. He wasn’t surprised that she was the one chosen to be the Wonder Boy’s sacred Other, they were really infuriatingly alike…
“Obliviate,” he whispered, concentrating on the memories he wanted to remove, modifying the ones around them to make each scene flow perfectly and without a trace of a crack. Ginny now only knew that Hermione had gone out with her brother and that there was some sort of problem there. Every reference to Hermione’s and Harry’s magical connection had been removed and there was nothing left to indicate that Hermione might be involved with someone other than Ron Weasley. He smiled at his success and walked back towards the more difficult case.
Ten minutes later, he had looked through the memories of the boy and was trying to decide exactly what to do with them. It was clear that the young Gryffindor was both a very jealous and a very suspicious person, with both an over-developed ego and low self-esteem. He despised him for his many weaknesses and felt a strong urge to punish him for the way he’d treated Hermione. Certainly, the girl had been equally stupid and should have had the brains to realise that Ron Weasley would be a very ill match for her, but since her stupidity had led to the potion and the potion had led to many pleasurable moments for him, he didn’t feel as strongly about punishing her as he did about the boy in front of him. Mr Weasley was undoubtedly going insane from suspicion and rejection as well, seeing how he’d spent an entire day outside in sub-zero temperatures without either food or warm clothes. He sighed, it would all have been so much simpler if the little bugger had just fallen victim to a winter storm…
He checked his watch. Dumbledore would probably keep Harry and Hermione out of his way for quite some time. He could do it, nobody would ever know… Raising his wand again, he levitated the sleeping student to a bed in a dark corner of the ward, tied his legs and arms to the iron-wrought bed with silvery ropes that came out of his wand and put a Silencing Charm as a bubble around the two of them. His hand steady, he moved his wand and the boy opened his eyes.
For a long time, they just stared at each other, loathing evident in both sets of eyes. Ron fought a little against his bonds and engaged in name-calling before finally running out of strength and slumping back against the pillows, hatred glowing in his eyes.
“What are you going to do to me?” he asked angrily and with some apprehension.
“Erase some of the more offending parts of your memory,” was the calm reply. Ron visibly blanched.
“Th-that’s illegal!” he exclaimed, taking up his fight against the ropes again.
“So? That’s the beauty of Memory Charms, Mr Weasley: there is nobody to either accuse or bear witness of the crime.” He smiled wickedly. “But now, Mr Weasley, I thought the stability of your brain would appreciate some answers before your memory is modified. And I must admit that I’m looking forward to seeing the look on your face when you learn the truth…”
“What truth?” Ron asked, worry in his voice now. “And why would I even consider believing something you tell me?” he added, trying to sound confident. Snape’s eyes radiated anger and disdain.
“Because it relates to your darling Hermione. Only, she isn’t exactly your darling, now is she?” he finished with an evil grin. Ron would have sat up in bed if he hadn’t been tied down to it.
“What do you know about it?” he snarled. “I swear to you, Snape, if you have hurt her in any way –”
“Tsh, tsh, such insolence,” he said softly as he silenced the boy with a quick wave of his wand. “Typical Gryffindor behaviour.” A sadistic smile spread on his lips as he prepared for the death blow. Moving closer, he leaned down so that his face was but inches from the boy’s and said in a deadly whisper:
“I am Hermione’s lover, Mr Weasley. It’s me she’s been with when she claimed to be studying or sleeping. I’ve touched her in ways you could only imagine in your most private dreams, and left her begging for more. I’ve made love to her so many times this past week that my entire body is sore from the exercise, yet should she come to me again right now, I wouldn’t deny her. It appears that her feelings for me have lain dormant for quite some time, whereas her ‘feelings’ for you were more of a childish crush that she’s now grown out of. She wants a man, Mr Weasley, not some immature boy who can’t satisfy her. She’s all fire and passion – not that you will ever be able to see it – and she’s made her choice. She’s chosen me, and I’m happy to oblige her,” he finished with a wicked grin. Ron was looking quite green and was shaking his head in denial.
“You don’t believe me? Well, why don’t you see for yourself then?” He lifted his wand to his temple and a long, silvery strand clung to it as he took it away. Snape then placed the tip of his wand at Ron’s temple and watched how the silver moved into his skull until no trace of it could be seen. Ron immediately started thrashing around, eyes wide, then clasped tightly shut, as if he tried to block out the images that were playing inside his head.
Severus lifted the Silencing Charm on the boy and enjoyed the performance. He knew this was cruel, but he didn’t care. The boy wanted to know, well then he had to deal with the pain of the knowledge. After a while the thrashing and screaming stopped and Ron lay still, eyes wide and tears running down his cheeks. Snape figured he’d seen enough and swiftly removed the silver strand and put it back into his own head, smiling at the rush of memories.
“You’ve done something to her!” Ron exclaimed, anger rising in his chest again. “A potion or something! You’re forcing her to love you! You’re a pervert and a criminal, I’ll –”
“Silence!” Snape spat, advancing on him in a menacing way. “You’re utterly delusional if you could see what you just saw and think that that was the result of a potion or spell. Lust can be brewed, certainly, but True Love, like True Life (bringing people back from the dead), cannot be put in a bottle. And you ask yourself why she doesn’t love you?” he said in his most sarcastic voice, shaking his head to further infuriate the boy.
“I’ll talk to her, I’ll make her see –”
“You will do no such thing,” he interrupted coolly, “for the very simple reason that when you walk out of here tomorrow, you will have no memory of this conversation, nor any suspicion that Hermione is involved with anyone but yourself, though the memory of her dumping you will still be painfully intact.” He smirked and nodded his head before he continued. “You ended up in the hospital wing because of a duel with Potter over his present relationship with your sister. You were never in Hermione’s bedroom, you never overheard her conversation with Potter and you certainly never spent a full day up on a cold cliff that reasonably should have killed you. You will wake up tomorrow, feeling guilty about the way you treated both your friends, you will probably apologise and the Golden Trio will be back together by breakfast. Both your friends will know that your memory has been modified and why it was done. They will accept it and act as if it never happened. Life will go on. You’ll still be lonely and lovesick, Potter will keep shagging your little sister and Hermione will keep coming to my bed at regular intervals. Really, memory loss will be a blissful thing for you.”
And with a last smirk, he went to work, putting Ron in an unconscious state and modifying his memories exactly as he’d said he would. When he was done, he looked through his mind again, found nothing dangerous left, moved both Weasleys back to their original beds, removed every trace of his presence and walked silently up the stairs to the Headmaster’s office.
***
“Enter!” Dumbledore’s voice came from inside his office. He braced himself for the conversation that would undoubtedly follow and pushed open the door.
“Severus,” Dumbledore said in a quiet voice. “Please take a seat.” He gestured towards a squishy armchair next to the one in which Hermione sat. He complied, but wasn’t able to relax. One hand was in his pocket, holding his wand in a firm grip. You never knew what Potter might do…
“Did everything go alright?” the old man asked, pouring thick, hot chocolate into a fourth cup, which he handed him, despite Snape’s refusal.
“Like a charm,” he said dryly, which made Dumbledore’s eyes give a little sparkle in all their seriousness. The corners of Hermione’s mouth also twitched a little, but her eyes were big and sad, staring into her lap.
“I trust you, Severus,” Dumbledore said, then looked at Harry and Hermione. “Now, the only thing remaining is what to do with the two of you…”
Hermione said nothing and moved her spoon around in her cup. Harry, on the other hand, was looking from Snape to Dumbledore with suspicion in his eyes.
“I want to know exactly what he has done,” he said in a voice that was louder than usual. “I want to know what all this is about, and I’m sick and tired of the two of you talking over my head like I’m not even here.”
Snape had a scathing comment on the tip of his tongue, but it was stopped by Hermione’s soft voice coming from the chair to his left.
“He’s been in the hospital wing, Harry, making sure that the secret of the light ritual is safe,” she said, looking up at her friend. Harry just looked back at her, uncomprehendingly.
“Come on!” she snapped. “Do I really have to spell it out to you? Professor Dumbledore brought us here so that Professor Snape could modify Ron and Ginny’s memories without us interfering! Professor Dumbledore has been dropping hints about it for the last 45 minutes, and it’s not like it wasn’t obvious his summons was a way to distract us from the start.” She turned to her right and met Snape’s black eyes calmly. “I even saw you retrieve the piece of parchment from the fire.”
“You knew?!” Harry bellowed, making her head snap back to face him. “You knew this bastard was going to perform illegal and dangerous magic on Ron and Ginny and you didn’t even try to stop him?! Bloody hell Hermione! I thought we were your friends! How can you betray us like that? For him?! It’s disgusting! It’s –” He broke off as Hermione let out a laugh, a tired, desperate laugh.
“You really don’t understand, do you, Harry? I kept silent for you, for Ron and Ginny, for the good of the wizarding world! I didn’t tell you because I knew it had to be done and that you would refuse to accept it. And I too trust Severus,” she added softly, looking up at Dumbledore, who gave her a sad but supportive smile.
“What Miss Granger is trying to point out,” came Snape’s low voice from under the window, “is that the Pila Lucis might very well be the only means for you to defeat the Dark Lord, and that the knowledge of the ritual’s existence and the identities of the Four must be kept from the Dark Lord at all costs. Mr and Miss Weasley are both too hot-headed and too weak to keep that knowledge safe, especially considering their personal emotions. Mr Weasley could never accept my position in the circle, and judging from what I saw when working on Miss Weasley just now, I would think her most opposed to the deep connection between you and Miss Granger as well. Your petty feelings are of no consequence in these matters, Mr Potter, as I believe I’ve told you on numerous occasions,” he finished with a slight snarl. Harry just glared at him.
“Severus is right, Harry,” Dumbledore continued, fixing the boy with his bluest gaze. “We cannot let this opportunity slip us by. We are in a war, and in war, there are always sacrifices. As much as I hated to do it, I considered the violation of Ron and Ginny’s memories a rather humane one. They will be happier not knowing, and we will all be safer because of it. Can you honestly tell me that this was a decision I should not, under no circumstances, have made?” Harry sat mute in his chair, transfixed by the old man’s gaze, but his body language telling them all that he didn’t agree in the slightest. “Trust me, Harry, it was the best thing to do.”
Harry stared at him for a while longer until he finally resigned and slumped back in his chair. Hermione let out a small sigh, both in relief and apprehension.
“So, what about us?” she asked nervously, trying to keep her voice steady. Dumbledore looked at Snape for a moment and then turned to face her.
“Well, my dear, as we discussed before, I want you both to study Occlumency, along with Mr and Miss Weasley I think. You, Hermione, will study with Professor Snape, and I trust you will make every effort to acquire the necessary skills quickly. I have a plan, one which would further our cause immensely, but for it to succeed, you need not only to master the art of Occlumency – you need to excel at it. You will need to reach Professor Snape’s level, or even exceed it,” Snape gave a small snort at this, “and you’ll need to do this in an impossibly short time. I will personally test your abilities.” He looked at her with a very serious face, but his expression softened as he continued, “I knew from the start that you would become exceptional. It’s been a true pleasure to watch you grow in power and character during your years here. It’s very unfortunate that you have been forced to grow up so quickly, and like Harry, you have shouldered burdens much too heavy for you far sooner than I would have liked you to. I can see in your eyes the love you harbour for my Potions Master and it touches me more deeply than you could ever know. What I have in mind for you is not fair, and not in any way what I would have wanted to give you, had I a choice. Your path is very dark and very dangerous, but I will allow you the choice to walk away from it. If you say no to my plan, you will wake up tomorrow morning with no memory of this past week, save your normal school activities. You will be told that you need Occlumency lessons as a precaution since you are so close to Harry. Your feelings for Professor Snape will be hidden in your subconscious, since they cannot be removed, and appear to you only through strange and somewhat unfocused dreams. You would be told of the ritual when the critical moment came for Harry to use it, and it should all work out as planned. It’s a risk, I admit, but I feel you deserve the choice to choose your own path.” He broke off and looked at her, a sad expression on his face.
She swallowed hard and looked at the three men around her, tearing her eyes away from Dumbledore’s blue gaze to meet the emerald green of her best friend. He smiled at her, the same sad expression as Dumbledore wore, and she gave him a trembling smile back. He took her hand and caressed it gently, telling her wordlessly how important she was to him and urging her to take Dumbledore up on his offer of just walking away. His fear of seeing her hurt because of him was so painful it brought tears to her eyes. Finally, she turned away from him and met the eyes of the third man, knowing even before she looked up into his face what her answer must be. He read it in her eyes before she could even open her mouth and stood up, holding out his hand to her in invitation. With a nod to the Headmaster, who nodded back, his smile a mixture of sadness and pride, she took it, stood up and let Severus lead her out of the office and down the dark stairs.
***
Harry slowly turned his gaze away from the door, through which Hermione and Snape had just left. The anger that had been boiling inside him ever since he found out about their thing (he refused to call it “relationship”) had just been oddly inflated. He felt like all energy had left him, like he just didn’t care anymore. God, he felt so tired…
“What will happen to her now?” He directed the words to the empty air, more like a voiced thought than an actual question. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to know, didn’t know if he could bear the guilt if it was something really bad.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, Harry,” Dumbledore’s soft voice came from behind his desk. “I hate to keep you in the dark, and I know I promised you after last year that I wouldn’t do it again, but in this case, giving you the details could be very dangerous. Your skills at Occlumency are improving, but your mind is not yet capable of keeping information from Voldemort should he actively search for it. The connection between you is too strong and he is a superb Legillimens, as you already know. I’m afraid I cannot tell you this.” He sighed deeply and stood up, walking over to the cabinet where he kept his Pensieve.
Harry watched his movements and tried to get his resolve to overcome his curiosity. Dumbledore was right, he couldn’t protect his mind against Voldemort. Overestimating his abilities had lead to Sirius’s death. He did not want to be responsible for Hermione’s as well. Humility was a difficult lesson to learn, but he knew he had to. He might be the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived, and he just might save the wizarding world from Voldemort, but he still had things to learn before he would be ready. He tended to forget that, he knew, tended to think with his heart rather than his head. Perhaps he should try to be more like Hermione, he thought, try to be calm, analysing… He sighed deeply - accepting his own weaknesses and trying to work on diminishing them was just so hard.
Dumbledore, in the meantime, had brought forth the Pensieve and put it on his desk. He was studying something in it with great concentration, mumbling to himself with narrowed eyebrows. Harry just sat back and waited, breathing deeply, trying to clear his mind. He would have to work even harder on his Occlumency now, he realised.
The Headmaster pulled away from the Pensieve and looked at him. He looked very old and very tired, but there was a hopeful burning spark in his eyes. They both looked at each other for a while before the older man spoke.
“There’s something I must ask of you, Harry,” he said in an apologetic voice.
“Go on.”
“As I said, your mind isn’t yet strong enough to keep your thoughts and knowledge completely safe from Voldemort, and since you are his most direct target, it would be quite unwise for your mind to hold all the information of the ritual and…” he faltered, “…relating issues.”
“So you want to Obliviate me?” Harry asked, doing his best to keep anger from rising in his voice again.
“No, Harry, I don’t want to Obliviate you,” Dumbledore said with a tired look on his face. “You know too much, and a Memory Charm under these circumstances would need to be very powerful to work. It wouldn’t be safe, I couldn’t risk you.”
“But –”
“Ron and Ginny Weasley didn’t require anywhere near as strong charms as you would,” he interrupted before Harry even had the time to get the angry accusation out. “They will both be quite alright, I promise you.”
“Then what is your plan?” Harry asked, arms crossed over his chest in a defensive stance.
“I want you to take a Somnium Potion,” Dumbledore said gently. “Professor Snape is probably brewing some as we speak, for Miss Granger’s sake. The Somnium Potion will cloud the knowledge and feelings which need to be protected in the dream section of your mind. To an outsider, it will look like a memory of a dream, slightly erratic and clouded as dreams usually are. You alone will be able to gain access to the entire memory and be able to separate it from memories of real dreams. In the beginning it will be unfocused, but with mental training, you’ll be able to access it like any normal memory or stored information. In addition, all new information or development of the information hidden with the Somnium Potion will automatically be stored with the same kind of magical encryption. This means that you will be able to further research the ritual and practice Channelling Charms without problem. It’s the best solution I could think of – well, actually, it was Professor Snape who came up with it, but it’s really a very good plan, Harry.”
“It’s not like I have a choice, is it?” Harry said, still angry.
“No, I’m afraid you don’t,” Dumbledore replied in a low voice.
They sat in silence for another couple of minutes before Harry gave a curt nod and Dumbledore visibly relaxed a little. Walking over to the fireplace, he threw a pinch of emerald green powder in the flames and stuck in his head. He pulled out a little while later and turned to face his young student.
“The potion will be ready in about two hours, Severus tells me. He will send it directly to your chambers through the Floo network. Make sure you take it before going to sleep, it would be a shame if Voldemort got hold of your mind now that we are so close to hiding this information from him.”
“Will do, sir,” Harry said with a tired shrug and got out of the chair, sensing that the session was over. “Should I bring Ginny along to Occlumency tomorrow night?”
“Please do, and Mr Weasley as well, I think.” Harry turned and walked towards the door, but just as he opened it and prepared to step over the threshold, Dumbledore’s voice made him turn his head back again.
“Oh, and Harry…”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
With a small smile on his face, Harry Potter left the office.
***
In his personal lab, Severus Snape was hard at work. Three cauldrons simmered before him as he added ingredients with absolute precision. Hermione was standing at another worktable, chopping, grinding and dicing according to his information. She had removed the blue silk skirt and put on a set of normal, black work robes. One of his, and he couldn’t help noticing the sensual way she wrapped the fabric closer against her, inhaling his scent and smiling sadly. She still hadn’t asked about the plan Dumbledore had conceived for her. Hadn’t spoken at all since they left his office, actually. He wondered if her composure was genuine or just a surface act that would fall apart eventually. He found himself wishing for time to stop and the night to go on forever, just as he had as a small child, sitting alone in the attic. Dawn would deal a cruel blow, he knew, and he hoped he would be able to take it without flinching.
The cauldrons simmered serenely, the wispy fumes just the right colour. It was time to add the final ingredients and to adapt each brew to the needs of each person. Drawing his wand, he walked first to Harry Potter’s cauldron.
Potter needed to hide knowledge, first and foremost. His feelings of disgust and dislike in relation to him would only be of good, should the Dark Lord break into his mind. The more Potter hated him, the safer he would be from his Master. Plus, he loved making the little brat miserable. Grinning, he added a few magical substances and then waved his wand, concentrating hard on all the memories the potion should envelop in the boy’s mind. When finished, the potion had turned a deep shade of green. Perfect.
He walked over to Hermione’s cauldron next. The same substances to entrap knowledge were added, but then he hesitated slightly, weighing two similar crystals in his hands. Both would affect her emotions, but one – rose pink in colour – would remove only the deepest layer of feelings, whereas the other – deep red – would remove all memory of any deeper feeling she held for him. She would still feel desire, and her body would still crave and respond to his the way it had over the past week. He would still be able to largely please her in bed, but the emotional dimension would be gone. He would never again see that deep glow in her eyes, never hear her whisper she loved him in that breathless voice that made a strange quiver go through him… He just stood there, for a long time, unable to make his decision. Finally, he closed his eyes hard, took a deep breath and let the red crystal slip into the shimmering liquid. He quickly finished the spellwork and turned his attentions to the last potion – his own.
Also here did he hesitate for a minute. He didn’t add the knowledge-related substances, for he knew that his skill at Occlumency was largely sufficient to keep those memories from the Dark Lord. It didn’t take that much skill to hide an information-related secret, it was hiding feelings, emotions and instincts that was the hard part. Should he actually fall in love with Hermione, it would be nearly impossible to hide it. The Dark Lord might not understand love, but he wasn’t so dense that he didn’t recognise it. Quite the opposite, discovering a person’s desires and emotional weaknesses was rather a speciality of his. If Dumbledore’s plan was to work, the only permissible feeling he and Hermione could share was physical desire. Plain and simple. Still, he didn’t want to cloud his mind like this. Out of all the memories from the past week, those of Hermione’s love and how he’d responded to it were the most precious ones to him. He’d caught a glimpse of a world where light didn’t necessarily mean pain. She’d shown him that he still had a softer side, or at least could have if he let her work on him for a while longer. At the same time, those feelings actually scared him to an extent that not many other things did. Things were simpler before, and now he could have that simplicity back. Why was he even debating this with himself? It was the best option all-around. It would keep him safe, her safe, the bloody Order safe, and, sadly, the infuriating Potter-boy safe. It would give him back the control he’d lost when with her. Things would be easier. With a determined look on his face, he added the same kind of red crystal to his own cauldron and ended the process with some work with his wand. He looked at the three potions: deep green, deep red and transparent purple, just the way they should be.
He bottled the potions into six flasks – two for each colour – sent one green sample up to Potter’s room through the Floo, locked one of each into a small chest, which he sent in a similar fashion to Dumbledore’s office, and placed the remaining two flasks on an empty work table before cleaning up. With a tilt of his head, he motioned for Hermione to join him in the bedroom, where he went with the potion. He heard her feet softly clap against the stone behind him as they walked through a small hallway.
***
“So?”
“So, what?”
“So, what will happen when I drink this?” she said carefully, walking over to the fireplace.
“Well, essentially, every deeper emotion you feel for me, which is not desire, all memory of these feelings and all knowledge concerning the ritual will be clouded and put in the dream section of your mind,” he said, watching her movements carefully, wondering what her reaction would be.
“Oh.” She stiffened a little and kept her head down, half turned away from him. “Will you remember?” He didn’t have to ask her to specify, the question was crystal clear in all its ambiguity.
“No, it will all stay at the back or our minds like the memory of a dream. We will be aware of the memory but unable to actually touch it, unless we really want or need to. There are certain techniques to access a clouded memory and I’ve made sure that we will always have the information we need, when we need it.”
“How?”
“I’ll still have the knowledge of the ritual present in my mind. I’m strong enough to protect it from anyone trying to break into it. I can release that information in you and Harry, help you reactivate your memories, when the time comes. If you prove satisfactory at Occlumency, I will give you back those memories as soon as I deem you skilled enough to protect them.”
“And… the other?”
“There is a way,” he said softly, “a potion can be brewed from the original sample that will work as an antidote. It will completely negate the effects of this potion and give you back all memories, just as they were before the Clouding took place. Dumbledore has the chest with these samples, and he alone will know where they are. It was part of the bargain we struck, a means for him to ensure that I won’t betray him at the last moment.”
“You betray him and he’ll give your memories back, open for Voldemort to see, and you would be killed,” she stated, still not looking at him.
“Exactly.”
“What did you get in return?” she asked.
“His promise that if we both make it through the war, the “good” side wins and the Dark Lord is defeated, he will hand the samples over to me, to do with as you and I see fit,” he declared, watching her intently.
Slowly, she turned her face, her hazel eyes meeting his own with a careful, hopeful expression.
“You mean, one day –”
“Technically, yes, though I doubt that either of us would want to go there, should the time come. I don’t believe that either of us will change much, not deep down, and tell me honestly, Hermione, would you, faced with the conscious and emotional-free choice, choose to love me, knowing what our future would be like? It would be a fool’s choice, and, if anything, I’ve never thought you a fool.” He stood right in front of her now, his body inches from hers, his hand longing to touch her as he forced them to be still behind his back.
“No, I probably wouldn’t choose you under those circumstances, Severus,” she said with a trembling voice, “and the worst part is that I fear that it would be the biggest mistake of my life, and I would make it without even being aware of that!” She raised her hand and stroked him gently with her fingertips along his face, brushing away a strand of black hair. “I know you don’t love me, and I know that you wish you’d never been stuck with me in the first place, but I can’t help feeling that we could have something really great together. I love you, Severus. I didn’t even know it was possible to feel this way. I’ve never been overly romantic, you know, not really. I had some foolish, childish dreams about what love would be like, taken from fairy tales and other girls’ stories, but this is nothing like that. This is real. When I’m with you, it’s painful and frustrating and uncertain, but it’s the most happy and at peace I’ve ever been. When I wake up in the night and see you sleeping next to me, there’s this deep glow in my heart, a feeling of being right where I’m supposed to be. I don’t love you so that you will love me back, I don’t love you to gain anything. I don’t even love you for my own pleasure. I just do.”
“Hermione, I –”
“Shh, you don’t need to say anything.” She led him over to the table and picked up the two flasks, handing him the purple and uncorking the red. “How long before it takes effect?”
“One hour, and you should be asleep when it does, to make the transition easier, so there’s a sleeping component in it assuring that you will be,” he said, uncorking his own flask. He felt like there was something important he needed to tell her, but no words came to him. He held the flask in a cramp-like grip as he raised it in the way of a toast. “To a botched-up love potion,” he said, the spark in his eye mixed with complete seriousness. “This has been an incredible week, Hermione, in every way.”
“To a botched-up love potion,” she echoed, tears threatening to escape her eyes as they both threw back the potion. Holding the empty flasks, they looked back into each other’s eyes and Hermione first articulated the mutual thought.
“Take me to bed, Severus,” she whispered, letting her flask fall to the floor, where it shattered into a thousand pieces, and stepping into his arms. Without a word, he swept her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed.
***
He put her down on the rumpled sheets and lay down at her side, looking into her face. He slowly moved one hand along her body, undoing buttons and letting the robes fall open to reveal the silver lingerie she still wore. Placing wet kisses along her throat and collarbone, he made his way towards her neck and upper back, rolling her over on her stomach to get better access to the laces of her corset. He undid them with one hand, the other caressing lower, stroking her ass and thighs, while his lips continued to travel over her soft skin. She didn’t make a sound, but the way her body trembled told him she was incredibly tense. He sincerely hoped she wouldn’t cry. He hated and despised crying women, unless, of course, it was he who’d purposely made them cry, in which case it made him feel very powerful.
He pulled the laces out of the last couple of holes and removed the corset altogether. The silk laces still in his hand, he ran them across her body experimentally. She gasped and rolled over on her back, facing him.
“So, what shall I do with you, Miss Granger?” he asked silkily, letting the fabric circle her breasts and snake down her stomach. She moaned and then murmured something indistinguishable. He leaned down so that his lips almost touched her face, almost brushing the soft tiny hairs of her cheek.
“Pardon? I’m afraid you’ll have to enunciate a lot better than that if you want to have a chance of achieving your goals,” he whispered, taking extra care to tease the soft flesh at her neck as his lips wandered south. Two hands grabbed his face a few inches from her right breast and pulled him north again to face her.
“I don’t care. I just want to feel you,” she whispered, lips almost trembling as she pulled him close for a kiss.
He grinned to himself as an idea of what he would like to do to her formed in his head. Distracting her with hungry kisses, which became steadily more heated, he stroked the skin on the inside of her arms, first one, then the other, moving them slowly until both her hands were placed above her head. With equal nonchalance, he grabbed the laces from her corset and tied her to the headboard of the bed with swift, expert movements. Hermione let out a gasp and opened her eyes to give him a look that was half fear, half arousal when she realised what he’d done. She opened her mouth to protest, but he quickly silenced her with another searing kiss.
“You said you wanted to feel,” he said, playing with the sensitive skin on the inside of her arms, “and the best way to do it is to block out the other senses…” Reaching over to the bedside table, he withdrew a black silk scarf and carefully tied it over her eyes. “Relax,” he whispered, stroking the tense muscles in her shoulders and arms, “I assure you that you will like it.”
She let out a little laugh. “I’m sure I will. I actually had a dream like this once.”
“Did you now?” he replied with a chuckle. “My, my, the proper Gryffindor Head Girl… Who would have thought?”
“Yes, a kinky dream would undoubtedly be the most shocking part of my recent behaviour,” she said in sarcastic tones, inhaling sharply as his mouth wandered down across her stomach, one hand circling her breast teasingly.
“Tell me about the dream, Hermione.”
At first, she hesitated, embarrassed to talk about it, but he insisted and she shakingly began to tell the story of the unseen man. He re-enacted the dream as she spoke, rolling her on top of him, her back to his front, to give the illusion that he was standing behind her. Following every detail of her story, he let his hands play with her sensitive flesh until she thrashed on top of him, stimulating all his sensitive areas with her wriggling, as he kissed her hard to silence her moans, just like she’d told him to.
***
Sometime later, she was resting against him, unbound, her head on his chest, his arms around her. She was starting to feel very sleepy and guessed the hour must be almost up. She half-panicked and looked up into Severus’s face. His eyes were closed, and judging from his deep and even breathing, he was either asleep or well on his way there. No! It couldn’t end here! Not after this, not after what he’d just said!
She thought back, trying to remember. Everything was so clouded, all warped up in a haze of colours and sounds and emotions. She concentrated on those last moments of their lovemaking, the tension building, Severus moving hard on top of her, the ragged breathing and mindless sounds that escaped them both, his eyes looking deeply into hers, burning, changing, so black… words swirling in her head, ‘I love you, love you, love you’ , going in circles, building, changing… her heart beating hard and fast, his joining the same rhythm, her lips moving, words escaping her, not caring, getting closer and closer, seeing the same thing in his eyes, tension building, her head trashing from side to side, feeling her muscles tense up, her hands holding him so hard it should be painful, not caring… crying out, waves breaking, head swirling, unaware of what’s real and what’s not, lights dancing before her eyes, him still moving, taking her further, light changing to colours, to black, back to colour… and then, her own voice, like from a place far away, “I love you… mine… Severus…love you… can’t –” His voice mixing with hers, barely recognisable through the haze surrounding her, “Hermione… gods… so soft… mine -”, before capturing her lips, kissing her like he’s never kissed her before, collapsing on top of her, fighting for air, still kissing her… his hands coming up to touch her face, her hair, such a tender touch… opening her eyes, meeting his, seeing that same deep light she’s seen in them once before, not able to place it, the look doesn’t make sense, hearing her own breathless voice again, almost a whisper, “I love you. It’s you and me. Forever.”
“Forever,” he echoes, taking her lips again as she whirls into oblivion.
The scene replayed in her mind again and again, as she tried to make sense of it all. What had he meant? What did he feel? Would it even matter now that the clocked ticked and the potion would end all in just a few minutes? Her eyelids felt like lead and her limbs were heavy and immobile. Her mind was getting hazier by the minute and she had difficulty keeping her train of thought.
“Severus!” Her voice didn’t want to work either and she forced her tongue into motion.
“Hrm?” a deep growl came from above her head.
“There’s something I just need to know,” she said, blackness now filling the edges of her vision as she fought against the narcotics in her system.
“What is it?” His voice sounded strained as well, though more awake than her own, she thought. Steeling herself, she managed to get the four trembling words out.
“Do you love me?”
He went very still, even his breathing seemed to stop as he contemplated her question. The silence grew while he searched his mind and heart, the moment of truth upon him as well as upon her.
When the whispered answer left his lips, she was already asleep.
THE END
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