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Shattered	By : Adriana Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 11986 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
Shattered

By Adriana

trixielou60@hotmail.com
Author�s Note: Here�s my first little lemon, although it�s really only half a lemon, LOL. But the mental images are great!
*************************************
Come to me in my dreams, and then

By day I shall be well again.

For then the night will more than pay

The hopeless longing of the day.
Or, as thou never cam'st in sooth,

Come now, and let me dream it truth.

And part my hair, and kiss my brow,

And say My love! why sufferest thou?
~From the poem "Longing" by Matthew Arnold
***************************************

Chapter 16: Longing

It hadn't been that long since Severus Snape had been caught off guard. In fact, it had only been six weeks, and the memory of it made his wand-hand itchier than a heat rash. The moment Draco Malfoy appeared in the front entrance of the hunting lodge, he was confronted by a surge of magic that knocked him off his feet, his wand clattering to the floor.
"Crikey, Severus!" he managed, as he crawled towards his wand.
"Expelliarmus!" Severus bellowed and the wand flew to his outstretched hand. He glared at Draco. "What the fuck are you doing here, Malfoy?"
"A simple 'hello' would have sufficed, Uncle." Draco lifted himself from the floor. "Don't tell me you aren't glad to see me."
"I'm not." Severus turned his back on Draco and stalked out of the room.
Draco grinned as he followed him. This was going to be fun. Looking at his surroundings for the first time, he distastefully noted the large Hungarian Horntail dragon head mounted on the wall over the fireplace. "Say, isn't that illegal?" he wondered. Apparently the Snapes were closet rule-breakers. Given his uncle's occupation as a spy, that came as no surprise, really.
"Lovely decor!" he drawled. "You must give me the name of your interior designer." Noting the fierce scowl on the Potions Master's face, he hastily added, "Right. Erm, some other time perhaps?"
"I asked you a question. What are you doing here?"
"Is it so hard to believe that I just wanted to see how you're doing?" Draco asked in an unconvincing, injured tone.
Severus let out a pained sigh. "Gods! I don't have time for this! In fact, I don't have to endure this at all. Where's my wand? Oh wait," he said sarcastically. "I don't need a wand to hex you to Antarctica. Abolescere--"
"I've come to talk to you about Hermione Granger."
Severus stopped in mid-hex. If anything, his scowl deepened even further. "I've already told you that I won't discuss her with you, ever."
Draco knew which buttons to push. "Even if she's in danger? Even if she disregards her own safety for your sake? Don't you think you owe it to her to at least hear me out?"
Severus faltered for a moment. "What are you talking about?" His arm was still outstretched towards Malfoy.
"If you would just retract the index finger of your wand hand, maybe I'd tell you." Two could play this game, thought Draco, with an inward chuckle. Severus contemplated him for a moment, then nodded.
"Sit," he commanded and Draco instantly obeyed, plopping himself down on the couch. "How the hell does Severus do that?" he thought wryly. Severus remained standing, his back to the fireplace, arms folded.
"I'm waiting, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco swallowed hard. "All right, so maybe she isn't exactly in danger . . . well, she is, but then, aren't we all? Well, maybe she's in worse danger than most because Voldemort wants to meet with her, I suppose --" He was babbling. He stopped abruptly, noting the look on his uncle's face. Remembering that the best defense was to keep one's opponent off his game, he added, "She's exhausted, Severus. She's not eating, she's not sleeping well, and she's working herself to death. To make matters worse, she thinks you don't want to be with her and it's making her miserable. We both know it's a lie . . . you love her."
He held his breath and waited for the inevitable explosion.
"Is that why you're here? To discuss my so-called love life with Hermione Granger?" Severus couldn't keep the rising anger from his voice. "I'm not a circus side-show set up for your amusement!" he thundered. "It's none of your damned business!"
"But it IS my business!" Draco roared passionately. "Believe it or not, she's my friend and she's the only real one I've had since . . . since--" He stopped in mid-sentence, unwilling to say her name aloud. He shook his head sadly. "She's everything a man could ever want and you're just throwing it all away because of your stupid pride," he said quietly. At Snape's sound of protest, he waved him off in irritation. "I know all about it, Uncle, I wheedled it out of her over lunch today. She thinks you're rejecting her. I never thought I'd ever say this, but you are a complete barmcake!"
He closed his eyes and braced himself yet again.
To his surprise, Severus let out a rich, baritone laugh. Opening his eyes cautiously, Draco saw the glint of amusement on his uncle's face, before the Potions Master sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I must be thoroughly exhausted if I'm willing to put up with this shit from you."
Draco grinned. "I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but you're dead wrong to turn her away. She loves you."
Severus gave him an incredulous look. "And how would you know this? I have a hard time believing that she would tell you such a thing."
"She doesn't have to tell me. I know it from the tone of herce. ce. I know it by the look on her face when she talks about you. She gets all soft and mushy." Draco gave a theatrical shudder. "It's a Gryffindor thing, you know that, Severus. They can't help but wear their emotions on their sleeves. Revolting, really."
There was silence while Severus processed everything Draco had said. His eyebrow slowly arched up in comprehension.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you want her for yourself." Severus' voice was a velvet purr, but Draco wasn't deceived. He knew he'd hit a nerve. Time to move in for the kill.
"Maybe I do. What does it matter to you? If you don't want her, I think I could make her forget all about you."
Severus growled. "You wish, you bloody little wuss."
"Why not? You're obviously willing to give her up, so what difference does it make if I move in on her?" Draco chose this moment to give a contented, cat-like stretch. "Just say the word, Uncle Severus and I'll take her off your hands."
Severus began to pace. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing. You're painfully obvious." He stopped to give Draco a superior look.
"Am I now? I'm just trying to gauge the competition."
"No, you're trying to get me to admit I have feelings for her."
Draco decided he'd had enough of the game. "For Merlin's sake! Is that so hard? You've faced down Death Eaters before . . . Voldemort, for that matter! She's just an ickle smidge of a witch! Why can't you just admit it? You love her!"
Severus finally broke.
"And what if I do?" he yelled. In an instant, his face reflected mortification at such a confession. Groaning, he resorted to pinching the bridge of his nose again. "Get out," he said quietly to Draco. "Get the fuck out."
"Oh no . . . you're not going to tell me such an incredible thing, then shove me out of here like an errant little boy. I knew it," he added triumphantly. "So what are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing."
"That's it? Nothing? Well, I guess we're back to the 'barmcake' thing again. Honestly, Severus! Why are you so scared of her?"
Severus shook his head in defeat. "It's not her I fear, it's myself. I'm fairly certain I'll just muck things up," he said in an uncharacteristic show of insecurity. "By the way," he added, "You're not nearly good enough for her. Neither of us is."
"I think that's for Hermione to decide. And here's another thing I never thought I'd say to you: You're a lucky, lucky man. She would walk barefoot over broken glass for you. She's beautiful, courageous, smarter thhat hat Muggle chap Einstein and for some incomprehensible reason, she loves you. And you're wrong about not being good enough for her. I'll only say this once, but you deserve every happiness that she can give you because of all the ugly things you've had to do in order to keep the world safe. Hermione Granger is your reward."
Severus was taken aback. He had never, ever thought about it that way. For a moment, he believed the truth in Draco's words, but then his old self-loathing resurfaced.
He could never be with her.
"I'll only drag her down to the Darkness," Severus said sadly.
Draco shook his head vehemently. "No, Uncle. She'll only take you up to the Light."
Severus stared at him, stunned for a long moment as he considered Draco's words. He dropped his head in his hands to tiredly rub his face. When he spoke through his hands, his voice was muffled.
"Do you really think so?" he asked. He couldn't keep the hopeful tone out of his voice, and given the usual hardness of the man, the vulnerability of it was almost heartbreaking.
"Yes I do," Draco answered truthfully. "It's why I'm here. Think about what I've said, you've nothing to lose." Looking at his pocketwatch, he faked surprise. "Oh, my! Will you look at the time? I have to go . . . if I don't get enough sleep, I get these dreadful, dark circles under my eyes. I must get my beauty rest," he grinned.
"You really are poncey."
Draco smirked. "So I've been told."
Handing Draco's wand back to him, Severus walked towards the entrance hall, where the portal remained open in his mother's mirror. "I'll see you out. By the way, how did you find me?"
"I'm a spy, Uncle Severus . . . I have my ways. Don't worry, nobody else knows you're here . . . wherever here is. And I was kidding about the interior designer. I saw a Muggle magazine once where they showed this house in America that was owned by a bloke named Elvis. It was a monument to bad taste and it doesn't begin to hold a candle to this place."
"Get out, Malfoy."
"I'm going, I'm going."
*****************************************************
Severus didn't show it, but his visit with Draco had affected him more than he was willing to admit. Could the boy be right? Could Hermione Granger really be his reward? The thought was stupefying.
Making his way to his bedroom, he quickly undressed, allowing the cool air to caress his body before making his way to the bathroom. Atrocious decor aside, the hunting lodge boasted beautiful bathrooms. Mother had deemed them necessary as the hunters would usually come back from the hunt smelling like a flock of rutting Hippogriffs. Large, luxurious bathrooms had been an absolute necessity.
Turning the tap up as hot as it would go, Severus allowed the steam to roil around him and he smiled at the pleasant feeling on his skin. He'd always loved a good, hot shower and hydrotherapy was just the thing he needed to put his thoughts in order. He adjusted the temperature, pausing to listen to the soothing rhythm of the water hitting the marble tile before he gingerly stepped in. He knew that the students of Hogwarts thought that he never bathed, but nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, hours of standing over boiling cauldrons and breathing in botched potions in the classroom would reduce his hair to an oily mess, and his complexion would become noteworthy for its sallowness. Therefore, the first thing he always did when classes were over was to take a long, steaming shower.
Not that any of those dunderheads ever noticed.
Severus dipped his head under the showerhead and took pleasure in the spray hitting his face. He reached for a bar of sandalwood soap and began rubbing it over his chest. Tingling, his thoughts turned to Hermione once again.
After that first lonely night spent in the hunting lodge, he'd tried to push Hermione from his mind, but once again, he had absolutely no control over his longing. Everyday something new would happen during his work and he'd think about how she'd react or what she'd say. When he'd begun with the animal experiments, his first thought had been that he was glad Hermione didn't have to do this kind of work, as she had such a sensitive heart. Killing animals in the name of magical science just didn't seem like something she'd be able to do easily. He had rejoiced at this small gift he could give her, then he'd immediately chastised himself for his sentimentality. It had become a pattern. He'd think about her, he'd long for her, then he'd chastise himself. Over and over again.
He was sick of it.
As he continued to rub the soap into his skin, he remembered the morning they'd parted. She was so beautiful, offering her body to him like she was giving a thirsty man a drink of water. He suddenly felt ashamed of his cowardice. She knew about his past and yet for some unfathomable reason, she still wanted to be with him. Amazing. He paused, recalling the silky texture of her breasts and the sounds of her soft moans. He could spend the rest of his life lost in her incredible body and he'd die an utterly happy man.
Well, why not? Perhaps it was possible.
Maybe Malfoy was right. Maybe he did deserve her. His heart soared at the thought. He pictured them together, lying naked on his bed, their limbs entwined as they writhed with mind-blowing passion. He heard her uneven breaths and the sharp sounds she made as she reached her sexual release. Just the thought of it gave him a raging hard-on. He looked down at himself in amusement.
If the thought of her could do this to him, he could only imagine what the reality of her would be like.
Setting the bar of soap aside, his hand snaked down to his erection and he began to stroke himself, lost in his fantasies. He'd resorted to this activity often since his confinement and he couldn't bring himself to feel ashamed of it this time. He'd never wanted anyone so badly in his life. He ran his fingers up his rigid shaft, pausing at the tip to spread the leaking fluid that was beginning to dribble. He was shaking with excitement.
How would Hermione react if she saw him like this? Would she drop to her knees and take his cock into her mouth? Would she swirl her tongue around the tip and lick and nip at its sensitive underside? He imagined her stroking his tightening balls.
He let out a low, loud moan.
As he gripped himself harder, he could picture being inside of her, her warm velvet heat clenching him as he thrust into her body with a timeless rhythm. He could almost feel her wet walls gripping his arousal as he slammed into her over and over again. His hand moved faster, sliding up and down his prick and with a fierce shout of her name, he came hard and furiously. He opened his eyes in time to see the last few spurts of his semen mix with the cascading water from the showerhead. Shaking with his release, he leaned his head against the tile, breathing heavily.
He gave a slow, wicked smile.
Oh yes . . . it was settled.
He had to see her.
*********************************
The following evening Ginny Weasley left her darkened office and slowly made her way out of the building that housed The Daily Prophet. She made a rather forlorn and lonely picture as she walked the side street towards the main square of Diagon Alley. She'd taken to working late in the aftermath of her breakup with Harry, and while she wasn't as obsessive as Hermione, she still knew the value of losing oneself in one's work. She looked at her watch and sighed. It was already eight o'clock in the evening. She'd moved out of The Burrow the previous year and had been renting a small flat about four blocks away from her office. While she missed her family terribly, it had been the first step in her resolve to find an independent life away from the rest of the Weasleys.
Tall, ornate lamps illuminated the street, and a slight flurry of snow was beginning to fall. Stopping to rest on a bench outside a small cafe, she looked up to the lights, hypnotized by the white puffs of ice as they swirled around the halo of the lamplight. She shivered and unbidden, her thoughts inevitably turned to Harry Potter.
Unfortunately, after the last night she'd spent in Harry's bed, a tabloid reporter had spotted her sneaking out of his house that morning, and their secret affair had been exposed. Harry's response to the press had been a terse, "No comment." While Ginny had been mortified, her colleagues at The Daily Prophet had initially respected her privacy. That is, until "The Breakup".
She hadn't seen Harry in weeks and the maddening part of it all was that even though she was the editor of the Entertainment section, her colleagues had been begging her to reveal the real reason for the split. Her society writer had been practically salivating at the thought of an exclusive story. Given Ginny's position at the paper, she'd been able to put a nix on that idea and eventually the fervor had died.
For her, anyway.
Harry Potter had been another story. Ever since he'd been a young boy, the wizarding community had followed his life with a borderline fixation that was most irritating to The-Boy-Who-Lived. Ginny read daily accounts of his exploits and to her utter heartbreak, it appeared that he'd dealt with their breakup by dating just about every available girl who threw herself at him. And that was quite a long list. There were tabloid pictures of Harry having a quiet, intimate dinner with some blonde babe, or coming out of a theatre with a buxom brunette. They'd even followed him to a spa and had snapped a picture of him rubbing a suntan potion on a lithe bikini-clad young woman with gorgeous Asian features. Ginny wondered if Harry noticed her resemblance to Cho Chang.
Probably.
She sighed and got up from the bench, moving quickly down the street. The cold air was beginning to penetrate her wool cloak and she hurried to make her way home. She noticed a large crowd outside a French restaurant, and curiosity getting the better of her, she moved closer to take a look. She gulped.
Harry was standin the the steps of the restaurant, clutching the arm of a beautiful blonde woman while flashbulbs were popping from at least a dozen cameras. Squinting in the glare, he was shoving his way through the crowd, careful to keep a grip on the young witch at his side. People were yelling at him all at once, asking the identity of his escort. Ginny immediately recognized them as the foreign paparazzi.
Oh, bloody hell . . . she had to get out of there fast.
Suddenly a reporter turned to her and fairly screamed with det. "t. "It's Ginny Weasley! Miss Weasley, do you have a comment? How does it feel to see your former boyfriend with another woman?"
Ginny felt the rise of panic within her but before she could retort, a familiar aristocratic voice drawled, "How do you think it feels, you bloody wanker? Have you no respect for people's privacy?"
Ginny whirled to see Draco Malfoy, a look of utter distaste on his face.
The crowd oforteorters surged in and pretty soon, Draco found himself at the center of their attention. A Malfoy defending a Weasley? What on earth was the world coming to?
Draco immediately recognized his mistake. "Time for some damage control," he thought. He snarled to the press that while he found Harry Potter's taste in women rather appalling, he found their wolf-pack mentality even more offensive. All the while he was insulting them, he was backing away, his hand firmly grasping Ginny's arm. Suddenly on the the reporters noticed that Harry was hurriedly making his way down the street and he pointed at him, yelling, "Harry Potter's getting away!" With typical attention deficit, the reporters began running down the street after him.
Ginny stared at Draco.
He towered over her and looking down into her heart-shaped face, he felt an unfamiliar wrench in his heart. She looked so tiny and vulnerable. Tears were threatening to spill and her lower lip quivered. Draco felt an uncharacteristic protective feeling sneaking in.
Great Goblins-On-A Stick! This was a Weasley for Nimue's sake . . . no time to go soft! He shouldn't even be looking at her, he already had a 'girlfriend.' "Oh shit," he remembered . . . "Hermione!" He mustn't blow his cover.
Pulling Ginny with him, he ducked with her into an alleyway, his eyes furtively scanning the street for any stray reporters. "You really are a glutton for punishment, Weasley," he said to her in a scornful voice. It was just the thing she needed to hear.
"Fuck off, Ferret-Boy!" Ginny spat at him.
"How original," he said drolly. "You Weasleys have filthy mouths, by the way. Couldn't you come up with something better?"
Ginny sputtered. "How about "Dicksplat' or 'Piss-Arse' or 'Hairy Axe Wound'--"
"I get the picture," he said, trying to keep the laughter from his voice.
Ginny looked at him in astonishment. Was he trying not to smile? Suddenly she remembered a conversation she'd overheard between her father and Ron only a week earlier. She'd stayed the weekend at The Burrow and was coming downstairs for a late night snack when she'd heard raised voices coming from the kitchen. Unable to resist eavesdropping, she was surprised to hear that Draco Malfoy was actually a spy for The Order of The Phoenix. Ron was telling Arthur that he didn't trust him and to her surprise, Arthur was defending him, saying that he'd proven himself loyal over and over again.
"Yoshe she said and abruptly stopped. Draco raised a questioning eyebrow.
"You're a spy," she said softly. Draco scowled.
"I'd like to know where you got that idea," he said with menace. Ginny wasn't fooled.
"It makes complete sense. Harry came to me and told me that Voldemort wants to court me . . . for lack of a better term. I couldn't figure out how he knew such a thing but now I thinve gve got it figured out. You told him, didn't you?"
"I'm not saying a word until you tell me what you know." He waited impatiently, tapping his foot.
"I overheard my dad and my brother talking. I know you're really working for The Order of The Phoenix."
Draco began to mutter about bloody Weasleys with their bloody loud mouths. Bloody Loud-Mouthed Weasleys . . . hey, that sounded like a species of howler monkeys . . .
Ginny started giggling.
Startled, Draco regarded her thoughtfully. "It's not funny, Ginny," he said, surprising them both by calling her by her first name. He'd never done that before.
"I'm sorry," she gulped, then she started giggling again helplessly. For a minute, he just stared at her, arms folded, while she got it out of her system. Finally she looked at him soberly.
"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I suppose I should thank you . . . not only for what you did tonight, but for everything you're doing for The Cause. I have to confess that I couldn't figure out why Hermione would possibly want to be with you, but I guess you're not such a bad bloke. Unless this thing with Hermione is also a sham." She narrowed her eyes as she contemplated him.
His face remained closed. "I'm not discussing this with you. You're safer not knowing anything about anything. Just run along home to your little Weasley life and forget about all of this. Let's set the world right again and pledge our hatred to each other, all right? I hate you, by the way."
He didn't sound entirely convincing.
Ginny nodded. "I can promise you that I won't think about it again. And, erm, I hate you too."
She also sounded a little unsure.
Draco didn't seem to notice. Nodding in approval, he turned and walked away. Ginny watched him for a long time, until he disappeared around a corner.
****************************************************
Hermione walked back to her chambers after having a late dinner in the Potions Lab. The house elves had been very accommodating to her bizarre schedule and she'd found herself eating at all hours of the day and night. Albus told her earlier that day that his team had finally refined the Soul Shattering Spell and the time was coming when they'd have to do experiments combining the spell with the potion. He planned on calling a meeting to begin instruction in the art of casting the spell and Hermione was relieved that they were getting closer and closer to their goal.

If only Voldemort would ask for her. She needed to be developing a relationship with him, however much the thought terrified her. She wondered briefly about Draco's anxiety over the whole situation. She'd never known him to be anything other than arrogant and confident. She felt a little uneasy.
As she walked into her chambers, she made a beeline for her desk and noticed that there were some new parchments from Severus, the results of his latest experiments. Albus must have placed them there while she'd been working. She looked at Severus' elegant, spidery script and she lovingly rubbed her fingers over the words. It made her feel connected to him somehow.
Gods! She missed him so.
Shrugging off her robes, she made her way into her bedroom, with the intention of changing into some fresh clothing before heading back to Potions Lab for a late night session. She was still having trouble with one of the base ingredients of the potion-- it was still too unstable to be completely effective. She'd been thinking about it all day and had come up with a theory that she wanted to test.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim light in her bedroom, she was surprised to see something lying across the pillow on her bed. Moving closer, she saw that it was a single red rose, and it gave off a heady, pleasant scent.
She gingerly picked it up and immediately felt a familiar hook just behind her navel. Her feet lifted off the ground and she was speeding forward in a howl of wind and a swirl of colors.
Portkey!
Merlin! How could she be so stupid? Before she could finish the thought, Hermione found herself in an unfamiliar house, stumbling along in the entrance hall of what looked to be some sort of hunting lodge. She noticed an open door to her left and walking cautiously to it, she stepped inside.
Looking around in confusion, she was momentarily rattled to see Severus, his body a sharp silhouette against the light of the fire. As he turned to her, she sucked in a deep breath, gratified that she was finally in the presence of the man who'd haunted her dreams for months.
He moved briskly to her, and cupping her face in his hands, he immediately brought his lips to hers. They'd shared several kisses, but never had he kissed her with such intensity, such hunger. Hermione's heart took flight as she answered his fervor with a thrust of her tongue between his pliant lips. His tongue returned the favor, stroking the inside of her mouth, and he let out soft little whimpers as he did so. The thought that she could do this to such a powerful wizard was incredibly sexy and stimulating. His mouth lowered to her neck, nipping at her gently as his hand moved to her breast, delicately squeezing as he did so. She threw her head back and moaned his name. Severus caught her lips again, the fire spreading between them like a raging inferno.
Reluctantly breaking away from their kiss, he looked at her in wonder.
"My love," he said softly.

To be continued . . .

**********************************************************

Author's note: Thanks to my beta-reader, Elizabeth, who was a great help with this chapter. I couldn't do this without her, she's the best!

The next chapter promises to be, erm, explosive (wink wink)
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Shattered