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Matters of the Heart	By : strawberryf1re Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 34556 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe (characters, settings, etc.) ŠJ.K. Rowling. No profits are made from this work.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

Author's Note: Last night, I attended the midnight premiere of Deathly Hallows Pt. 2. Obviously, no spoilers here, but oh, my gosh. I am filled with a melancholy sort of joy, because it was wonderful, but it was the end. It was heart wrenching and warming all at once, but it's really hard to accept the fact that their story – the trio's story, Severus' story, Neville's story – all of them, it's over.

Matters of the Heart

K. Marie

Chapter 12

It is true that when they retired to his quarters, little consumption of food had ever actually taken place. When that door quietly closed behind them, Severus' hands ravaged Hermione's body ravenously, and they moved towards his bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing in their wake.

They succumbed to sleep somewhere long after sunset, Hermione enveloped in Severus' strong arms, their legs a tangled mess beneath the sheets. As sunrise approached, Hermione had woken peacefully, feeling well-rested for the first time since the beginning of her seventh year. Her hand gently stroked Severus' sallow cheek, tracing the contour of his cheekbone, following the grooves of faint wrinkles along the edges of his mouth.

The Potions Master stirred, slowly coming to consciousness. His eyes focused on Hermione's face, not far from his, her lips curled into a playful smile. "I was thinking, Severus… I do believe I will take you up on that shower offer."

"Will you, Miss Granger?" Severus replied, his voice heavy with sleep.

Hermione stood from him, her lips curling seductively. Severus did not miss the subtle invitation, and quickly he rose from the bed. He was following close behind her as she made her way into the bathroom.

Severus' fingers brushed the back of Hermione's neck, and the Head Girl turned quickly. Pulling her into his arms, Severus pressed his lips against hers. After a deep kiss, Hermione abandoned his mouth and began suckling the skin on his chest. Severus sighed, her warm lips bruising his pallid skin. Her mouth traveled lower, pausing beneath his navel, her knees resting on the cool tile of the bathroom floor.

She placed a small hand around his hardening member, the organ pulsing beneath her touch. She could feel the engorged veins along the shaft, the ridges beneath the tight skin, and as he grew more erect, the foreskin retracting slowly to reveal the sensitive head. She placed soft kisses along his length, starting at the base and moving towards the tip.

"Hermione," Severus growled, touching her head gently. "If you… if you don't feel comfortable…"

"Severus," she replied softly. "It's all right."

He gasped as her hot mouth surrounded him.

They made love again before they bathed, and once more whilst basking in the hot water showering them. It wasn't long before they found themselves yet again tangled in the sheets of Severus' bed, neither bothering to dress. Curling close to him, Hermione's head rested against Severus' pale chest, his heart beat slow and rhythmic within, lulling Hermione to the brim of consciousness.

"Severus," she whispered.

"Yes, Hermione?" Severus replied softly, his fingers combing though her hair.

A moment passed in complete silence. Straining to look into her face, Severus realized that his lover had fallen asleep, curled up as she was around him. He continued pulling his long fingers delicately through her mass of hair, listening to her even breathing.

To think, it wasn't terribly long ago that she had been the annoyingly persistent student whom he had decided to take on as an apprentice. Now, here she was, in his bed, naked, wrapped around him. Letting his eyes close, Severus breathed a small sigh.

He was amazed that, despite all of the things he had done to her in the past, she could still manage to care for him as deeply as she did. He almost couldn't grasp the fact that she was there with him. Severus had thought – no, he was convinced – that his capability to love anyone else had died when Lily had…

Somehow, the young woman curled beside him had the capacity to forgive even the cruelest of crimes, if only one was sincere enough. Silently, he scoffed; that, at least, seemed to be a trait that Hermione possessed that did not seem to grace Lily.

How curious. The wizard thought. The lazy Sunday morning drifting by slowly, as though it, too, had not a care in the world at that moment. Allowing his eyes to flicker closed, Severus drifted into a peaceful rest.

When they woken once more from their blissful rest, Hermione had retreated to Severus' library where she spent most of the afternoon. He simply watched her as she gathered several books from his collection, setting them on a table beside the chair in which he sat. As she placed the books there, he offered commentary on their value towards her research.

"Severus, you have no idea how much this means to me," she told him as she flipped through the pages of a rather large encyclopedia.

"I trust that you will treat them as though they were your own," Severus growled. "These will serve you invaluably towards your project."

Hermione nodded her agreement, a huge smile plastered across her face. She was so grateful for his offering. She had always suspected he desired his students to succeed if only they displayed the desire to learn, and this had only proved her suspicion to be true.

Their Sunday was spent in quiet seclusion from the rest of the castle, Hermione buried in the potions texts he had offered her. Severus took to his office to finish the task of essays that had accumulated on his desk. Time was lost to them, and for a brief moment Hermione's thoughts lingered on her friends. Surely they'd wonder where she was, but she highly doubted they would go searching – nothing would bring them willingly to the dungeons!

"Oh, no!"

Severus' eyes flickered open. The sun shown in through the curtains he had once again forgot to close, nearly blinding him. He felt Hermione's weight lift from the bed and shuffle about the room.

"Oh, no! We've slept too long, I've slept too long! It's going to be so terribly obvious!"

Rubbing at his eyes, Severus pushed himself up onto his elbows. Hermione was half dressed; her blouse was buttoned halfway, exposing her bra; her jeans were crooked, but pulled over her hips.

"Oh, Severus, we've overslept!"

Looking out the window, Severus guessed it was probably about seven o' eyes flickered to the panicking girl before him, and he let a smile creep across his face. "Hermione, relax. Classes don't start for at least another hour. That's plenty of time."

"Severus, you don't understand!" Hermione hissed at him. "If I'm seen leaving the dungeons so early in the morning—"

"No one will question you, because you are Head Girl and my apprentice. I highly doubt anyone would be skeptical of Hermione Granger overworking herself again."

Hermione paused, breathing deeply to ward off the oncoming panic attack. Looking up at Severus, she shook her head. "But overworking myself through the entire night? On a Sunday?"

"No one will interrogate you, Hermione. You are Head Girl, and that is reason enough to leave you well enough alone."

Hermione frowned, returning to buttoning her blouse. "I should go."

"Yes, you very well should. I'll see you in class." Severus walked to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. His lips grazed the top of her head as she hugged him back, and then pulled away.

The door shut quietly behind her. Severus sat down in a comfortable chair by his hearth, pulling his fingers through his hair. How was it that she could reduce him to a silly little teenager again merely with her presence?

He did not know, and yet it was a foolishness he did not want to ever end. The problem that the Malfoys posed was pressing, and as he was left alone in silence, his mind began whirring with the possibilities.

"Open your textbooks to page two hundred sixty-five," Snape commanded, standing at the front of his class. The students obeyed quietly, black eyes surveying them closely, scrutinizingly. "Today, we shall brew a blood-replenishing potion, which for most of you worthless, moronic wizards… is something that will, no doubt, prove quite useful.

"I trust you have already read the chapter. These are methods that we have utilized countless times before. If you are incapable of reading instructions, then you may as well leave now.

"What are you waiting for? Get to it."

There was a loud shuffle as the students began gathering supplies and moving to the workbenches. Snape had proceeded to treat Hermione no differently than prior to their relationship; anything else would have been suspicious, and they both realized it. She seemed unmoved by it; she had been going about the class as always, raising her hand and looking defeated when he called on someone else.

As the class wore on, Snape stalked through the classroom, his robes billowing about him as he peered into the cauldrons of his students. It was true, as a N.E.W.T. level class, his students were capable. Many of the concoctions simmering in the cauldrons were decent, if not acceptable. Hermione's, of course, was perfect, and he examined it as he would have any other student, and passed by without a comment after finding nothing to correct.

Hermione watched her lover move away from her, faking her disappointment the best she could. When he had approached her to investigate her project, she recognized the twinkle in his eye he only possessed when he was very pleased with something, and she tried not to let her pride swell at his approval.

The Potions Master slowly moved down the row of Slytherin students, peering into each of their cauldrons and casting an approving look in their directions. As he came upon Malfoy's cauldron, he paused to look at the young man, and Malfoy met his steady gaze. There was a look in his grey eyes that Severus recognized – it was a look his father wore frequently; a smug, condescending look that was worn when he was in the presence of those he felt unworthy.

Severus had grown increasingly wary of the entire Malfoy family over the past few years and it seemed his tolerance for their antics only waned further when they threatened Hermione. However, Severus was also well aware of the fact that, were he to show any change in behavior towards any of his Slytherin students, it may set off a wave of suspicion he would much rather avoid. That and he did not want to give anyone in the Malfoy family the satisfaction of knowing they were indeed beginning to bother him.

"Have you forgotten something, Malfoy?" Severus said silkily.

"I don't know, have I?" Malfoy snapped.

"It would appear you have neglected to include that dish of boiled kale," Snape sneered, pointing at Malfoy's table. And with that, the Potions Master stalked to his desk.

Standing at the head of his class, surveying the students with his eyes, Severus noted Hermione's calm poise as she brewed her potion. It was quite unfortunate that Malfoy too was in his class, and Severus couldn't help but want to threaten his life if he ever touched his beloved Hermione ever again. However, finding any area with which he could ridicule the boy would prove satisfactory enough, though his mockery would have to be very subtle, and much less severe than that of his non-Slytherin students.

Malfoy knew better than to try anything with Severus in the room, anyway. If what he claimed was true, and he did indeed see he and Hermione in the Forbidden Forest making love, then he would also recognize that any suspicious behavior on his part would be treated swiftly and justly. Severus had always been protective of those he's cared about, and the senior Malfoy surely would have passed this information along to his son when he was informed of Draco's discovery.

The end of class came no sooner than Severus could have hoped. The students filed out quickly after cleaning their cauldrons and presenting the Potions Master with a sample of their work. Many of the samples looked to be satisfactory, while some were a sickly shade of greenish-brown (indicating, most likely, a contaminant). Hermione's was in working order, it appeared, but she did not linger in the classroom a second's longer after handing her vial to him.

Malfoy lingered behind just a moment. Severus had his back turned to the Slytherin, examining the vials his students had handed him. He placed them in a rack he categorized based on potential, among the best sitting on the left side of the rack, and the worst sitting on the right. When he heard the shuffle of fabric he turned quickly to find Malfoy retreating from the room, as though the boy had lost his nerve.

Lunchtime rapidly approached the students as they moved throughout their morning classes. Hermione was famished after not having ate much at all Sunday, and was actually quite looking forward to mealtime.

It occurred to her, as well, that she should also be excited to see her best friends. Though she continually chastised herself for not spending too much time with them this year, she still did nothing at all to change the fact, and every time she thought of it she felt guilty.

Approaching the Great Hall she felt her stomach tighten in a knot from hunger, and she was quite happy to take a seat next to Ron at Gryffindor Table. Smiling, he cast a gaze at her, leaning into her.

"Aye, Hermione! You disappeared from Hogsmeade. I ran into Spintwitches, and when I came out you were gone!" Ron said through a mouthful of food.

"I know, I know. After you went in the shoppe, I bumped into Professor Snape," Hermione replied, picking some food from the plates in front of her. "I ended up helping him with some shopping he needed to do."

Ron shook his head, as though with sympathy for his friend. "Rough time, then."

Jabbing him in the ribs playfully with her elbow, Hermione argued. "Don't be foolish, Ron! I was glad to help him."

As he cast a long-suffering roll of his eyes at Harry, Hermione laughed. Hungrily, she tucked into her meal, and they ate in quiet for some time.

"Are you going to be able to make it to the first Quidditch match, 'Mione? It's Gryffindor against Ravenclaw!" Harry told her. "I've worked out some fairly good strategies—"

"Try bloody brilliant, Harry," Ron interjected, and his sister nodded her head enthusiastically.

"Oh, Harry, I do hope to go," she replied, though her voice was grim. "I can't say for certain though, my apprenticeship—"

"As long as you're not cozying up too much to Snape down there. We still want you cheering us on when it's Gryffindor versus Slytherin!" Ron retorted quickly, his face spreading in a knowing grin.

"Ronald, really!" Hermione sighed, exasperatedly.

Harry watched the exchange with a laugh. Hermione couldn't help but giggle herself when she looked at him. How she missed the boys, and how she so desperately wanted to tell them what was going on between herself and Severus. It was so hard to reassure them that he was not treating her poorly, that he was actually quite pleased with her work and admitted such satisfaction, without confessing to them that their relationship had developed into something deeper.

The same question was constantly lingering at the brim of her consciousness, nagging at every opportunity. When she compared the benefits of their knowing to the harm that may accompany it, both arguments seemed fairly well substantiated:

If she confessed to them the truest reasons why she had not spent much time with them as of late, perhaps they would not think her so completely absorbed in her work that she had no time for her friends. They would recognize how happy she truly was, that she truly did care for this man they had come to detest in their seven years of wizarding education, and that he truly cared for her and valued her as both a partner and an apprentice.

But also, if she were to bring to light exactly the mechanism by which her happiness had been obtained – down to the harsh, despicable reality of it – surely they would make haste to the dungeons, with nothing but vindictive intentions of bloodying up Severus. Or worse, they would demand that he be reported as a danger to the student body. Ron, being the more irrational of the two, would insist upon it, certainly (especially considering how protective he was of her). Harry would hesitate for the same reasons Hermione had – Severus was their only key into Voldemort's world.

And Harry, as wise as he was, would realize that were it to surface that Severus had in fact raped a student, Dumbledore would be forced to fire the Potions Master, stripping from him the protection of Hogwarts. Harry would also more readily recognize just how happy she was, and would hesitate to report Severus for that reason, as well…

But what if she didn't mention how he had raped her? What if she had just neglected that fact, and told them their relationship developed naturally?

"Hermione?" Harry's voice freed her from her thoughts. "You were miles away."

"Oh, yeah," Hermione smiled. "I'm sorry. I was thinking." Her eyes lowered to her plate and her friends continued eating, engaging in an excited conversation about Quidditch. Meanwhile, Hermione, as she picked at the food on her plate, looked to the Slytherin table. Malfoy had been watching her.

She scowled at him, and he looked away, though not without his trademark sneer.

Weeks passed without so much a whisper from the Malfoys, and while this did intrigue Severus (he had mentioned it fleetingly in conversation with Hermione), he did not dwell on the fact. Instead, he and Hermione worked together on various alchemical creations most nights of the week, and the Head Girl found herself retiring more frequently in Severus' quarters than her own. They emerged from the dungeons (separately, of course) for mealtimes and classes only, and Hermione took much of her homework to Severus' quarters as well.

She had also been able to make it to each of Harry's Quidditch matches (she suspected Severus lightened her work load just enough to allow her to finish her assignments in time for a match), and she was growing quite proud of his abilities as Quidditch captain. He had a true skill for leadership – which she had always known to be true – and it reflected in Gryffindor's awesome winning streak. Even when it was the most anticipated match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, his skill as a Quidditch captain led the Gryffindor team to an outstanding victory.

Needless to say, that evening, when Hermione returned to Severus' arms, she did not neglect to remind him of how humiliatingly Slytherin had lost.

"Watch your cheek, girl," he growled, nuzzling his face into her neck.

"Or what, Professor?" she replied, tipping her head back to expose her throat to him.

Her challenge was answered with his body overpowering hers. He turned her onto her back, his elbows on either side of her head as he kissed her deeply. Her soft hands stroked his exposed stomach, her fingers brushing against the hair that lead from his navel to his manhood. That night, their love-making was rough, their excitement from the match seeping into their lust for each other.

With only a few days remaining before Christmas break, Hermione was busily bustling around the dungeons, adding the final preparations to a potion she'd been brewing that would need to simmer for an entire day before she could do anything more with it. Severus had been observing her from his desk, taking a much-needed break from grading fourth-year exams.

"Hermione, have you arranged plans for this holiday break?" he asked casually while she moved throughout the dungeon.

Hermione paused in her work, looking at him. "I normally go to the Burrow with Ron and Harry. My parents are taking a vacation to Portugal this year."

Severus nodded, considering her over his quill. Hermione tilted her head to the side as he returned to grading the exams, scrawling comments in his small, cramped script.

"Why did you ask, Severus?" Hermione prodded, moving towards his desk.

"Curiosity, mostly. If you hadn't already made plans, I was going to make a suggestion." Severus replied casually, looking at her again. "Unless you are not obligated to the Burrow. In which case…"

"It isn't so much an obligation as a tradition, really," Hermione said, pulling her dragonhide gloves off and placing them on a nearby table. She tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear as she stood before Severus' desk. "We've just done it for so long. I wouldn't know to do anything else."

"Would you be interested if I proposed an alternative to your tradition? Although I would hate to impede further on your friendship," Severus said, returning his attention, once more, to his task.

"I would consider alternatives, yes," Hermione smiled; she knew precisely where this was going, despite how furtive Severus was trying to be.

"What if I were to extend to you an invitation to spend the holidays with me?" Severus offered.

"And what should such an invitation involve?" Hermione replied coyly, her lips curling into a sly grin.

"Whatever it is you'd so please, really," Severus said, dipping his quill into its well to continue criticizing exam answers. "There is a limit to what we could do, but seeing as you are a very reasonable woman I highly doubt we'd reach it."

Hermione took a seat on the corner of his desk. "Severus, I think that would be a wonderful way to spend the holidays."

"I would have to agree with you, Miss Granger," Severus replied, a sly smile creeping across his face.

She leaned down to kiss him gently on the lips before hopping off his desk and retrieving her gloves. She tucked them into her back pocket, and approached the gurgling cauldron.

"Severus, I believe this needs to simmer for a day before I can do anything more to it." She was peering over the edge of the pot, the potion inside illuminating her face softly.

Severus followed her over to the cauldron and peered into it. The liquid inside was a pale yellow color, bubbling occasionally and releasing a rather pungent odor. He nodded. "Yes, Hermione, you are correct in assuming such. In which case, I would like you to take the opportunity to read from chapter forty-seven of the text I've provided you, as I think you will find it a very interesting and informative read."

Hermione clapped her hands together. "Oh! Of course, Severus!" and with that, she hurried over to the desk upon which her belongings were placed and took a seat. She turned to the chapter directed, and began to read.

Severus returned to his task of grading. The pair of them remained in silence for about thirty minutes while Hermione read the chapter from Moste Potente Potions, which honored her greatly as it was one of Severus' personal texts from his library.

She knew Severus had his reasons behind everything he required of her, and so she rarely questioned his instructions – though truth be told, she was quite curious as to why he had her read an excerpt on the Drink of Despair. Nevertheless, he was quite correct when he said she would find it both intriguing and educational.

As she finished the chapter, she twirled a loose strand of hair around her finger, considering the information. She looked up at Severus, who was very much involved in grading.

"Severus, could I make a request as to what it is I begin working on after the holidays?" she asked him.

"While I am not one to completely reject requests, I already have a curriculum arranged for you to work with," he replied, his hand still as he looked at her. "You are probably wondering why I had you read about the Drink of Despair."

"Well, quite honestly, it seems like an interesting potion and I would like to try my hand at it," she replied. "It says here that there is no confirmed method of creation, and all information is simply speculation."

"Precisely why I would like you to begin educating yourself regarding it. It is going to be one of the first potions we attempt to brew upon our return to Hogwarts in January," Severus said. "As part of your final project, it will be something you and I work on together. As you've read, there is no confirmed method of brewing it – and in fact, it is thought to be a creation of the Dark Lord." He lowered his gaze to the parchment before him as he spoke. "Your assistance will greatly aid me in my own research. Potioneers across the world have been trying to recreate it."

"So… you want me to help you?" she asked, a small smile creeping across her face.

"And to benefit you, it is included in your apprenticeship projects," Severus replied coolly, leaning back in his chair. "Of course, if we are unable to perfect the draught, it will not count against you." He paused, resting his chin in his hand pensively. "I imagine, if we are successful, our report will be published in journals in all languages."

Hermione nodded emphatically. "I would be honored to help you, Severus."

Closing the textbook, Hermione began to tidy up her workplace. There were still some vials of ingredients left on the desk near her cauldron and she picked them up carefully, the delicate glass tink-ing in her arms as she moved to the stores. She placed several of the jars back in their proper place.

"Severus?" she called to him as she noticed an area on the shelves that looked awry. "Severus, can you come take a look at this? It looks as though someone has been into your stores."

She heard the feet of his chair scrape against the stone floor as he stood. It wasn't long before he entered through the doorway and stood beside her.

"Curious," Severus muttered. He climbed the footstool to investigate.

"It wasn't me, Severus, if that's what you're thinking," Hermione said quickly.

"It would be preposterous to assume such, my dear," Severus replied, peering along the shelves. "Especially as this does not seem to be an isolated incident. Have you ever left the stores while I have been absent from the laboratory?"

"Well, yes, of course – but you have always taken care to enable the wards so they activate once I've closed the door after replacing reagents." Hermione crossed her arms, wracking her brain for any incidence where that may have been untrue. "I can't think for the life of me when it hasn't happened that way."

Severus had taken to moving vials on his shelves to their proper location. "Not only are some items missing, some have been misplaced as well. It would seem that our perpetrator is not terribly organized."

"Who in their right mind…" Hermione pondered. "May I help?"

"I have just about finished," Severus said. "Quite curious, indeed."

Severus lowered himself off the step ladder and moved to a lower shelf. "While on the holiday break, we will have to stop by an alchemy shop, as I will need to replace these herbs."

"What's missing, Severus?" Hermione asked quietly, watching him.

"Dried raspberry leaves, ground terrestris root, preserved red clover blossom," his voice trailed off as he peered towards the door of the store room. Suddenly he made a movement towards his office, nearly knocking Hermione over in the process.

"Agh – Severus!" Hermione called. She hurried after him, pausing in the doorway.

"And one of my very few – and valuable – Ashwinder eggs," Severus growled, his brow furrowed into a vicious scowl. "This is becoming rather irritating." His voice was low, his speech slow, as he began to stew in his frustration.

"What could anyone want with those potions ingredients, Severus?" Hermione queried. She knew precisely what the combination of such reagents could create, but it seemed preposterous.

"As my student I would hope you could answer that question yourself, Miss Granger," Severus's oily voice sent a chill down Hermione's spine.

"Fertili Augmenta, of course," Hermione replied quickly, reverting to her studious mindset. "A fertility potion."

"So you should understand why I am going to call a meeting of the Hogwarts staff to inform them of this recent robbery," Severus replied grimly. "The last thing we need during this time of war is an adolescent pregnancy."
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Matters of the Heart