Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Broken Dreams	By : onecelestialbeing Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 34536 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I make no money from this story, own nothing of Harry Potter, haven't met any of the people (except Alan Rickman and sadly that was brief)

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
A/N: I am loving your reviews, thank you! Please, I am shamelessly begging for more, simply because I have more SSHG stories on the brain and I'd love input. So love it, hate it, something to add let me know, don't be shy! I do believe the lemon orchard is round the corner...

Hermione slowly opened her eyes the next morning, confused until she remembered where she was. Luna was still next to her, Ginny on the other side. She'd come to Hermione's room in the middle of the night, thinking it was hers. Hermione groaned when she was prodded out of her sleep, asking Ginny why wasn't she still with Draco, sucking his face off.

Ginny merely told her to shut it while pulling off her clothes and falling down into bed. She'd then asked Hermione if she was all right, and when she said ‘yes’, told her ‘goodnight’ before falling into a deep slumber.

Sitting up, Hermione was surprised to find that her head wasn't spinning with a hangover. Memories of the previous day slowly worked their way into her mind, causing her to sigh heavily. Crawling out of bed, Hermione went to freshen up in the lavatory that was half the size of the bedroom. She'd just gotten dressed when Luna and Ginny began to stir out of their sleep.

"Ugh, I feel like a Troll thumped me in the head with a hammer," the redhead groaned, clutching onto her forehead. "Does your head hurt?" she asked Luna, whom shook her head.

"Maybe Draco has a hangover potion," Hermione suggested.

"I doubt it, but I'll ask him," she replied. "Shame you don't have a spare phial in your pocket," Ginny cackled.

"Oh, come along you," Hermione said. "You'll feel better once you have breakfast."

"Brill," Ginny sighed breathlessly, swinging her legs out from beneath the duvet. She then looked over at Luna whom was peering back at her with surprisingly alert blue eyes. "So where did you and Blaise disappear off to last night?"

"Blaise took me for a stroll through the gardens," Luna tranquilly replied. "He said you and Draco were worse than niflers in heat, and that you two should shag and get it over with."

Ginny's brown eyes widened and Hermione burst into peals of hysterical laughter. Luna was decidedly becoming more blunt as they got older, and her delivery was sometime completely dead on.

"Unbelievable. One Slytherin boyfriend and all of a sudden she's incorrigible," Ginny grumbled. "Move on, then. Let's see what sort of fancy breakfast we're going to have."

The girls eventually made their way down for breakfast. Blaise was already in the parlor and greeted them, explaining that Draco was still in bed, complaining that he felt poorly.

Ginny gave the tall wizard a long, hard stare. "You two found that damned bottle after we'd gone to bed, didn't you?"

Blaise smirked into his morning tea. "Did you really think that you'd be able to hide anything from Draco Malfoy?"

He was still chuckling as Ginny shot him a dirty look. "Excuse me," she muttered, pushing back her chair and leaving the parlor to go check on her beau.

"Well, before Draco passed out last night, he managed to send Professor Snape an owl," Blaise continued, turning towards Hermione. "I believe he sorted out the situation with your house; you can go home whenever you're ready."

Hermione instantly felt her appetite disappear. "Thank you," she replied, now idly picking over her food. "Did he say anything else?" she asked cautiously.

Blaise shook his head, now focusing his attentions on Luna. Hermione sat forlornly, engrossed in her thoughts as her two companions flirted with one another over breakfast. Right at that moment, the muffled voices of Draco and Ginny were heard from the other side of the parlor door before they came into view.

"No, Draco. I will not kiss you. Your breath smells like a sweaty sock that's been shoved under a bed and forgotten about," the young witch snapped in a low voice.

"Why in bloody hell did you make me leave my room?" a rumpled looking Draco grumbled as he pushed the parlor door open. His blond hair was mussed and sticking up all over his head, and he was clad in a wrinkled gray shirt and matching bottoms.

"Because you need to eat something!" Ginny fussed. "An empty stomach just makes a hangover worse."

"And how would you know this, Weaslette? You've just come of age, unless you've been sneaking your Mum's wine all along."

"No," she vehemently replied, settling down into the seat next to Draco. "Let's just say Dad and my brothers overindulged at Christmas. Mum would always dress them down before forcing them to eat."

"If you say so," Draco cheekily replied, winking at the scowling redhead. "Say, Granger. Aren't you the new Potions professor? Why don't you whip us up a hangover potion?"

Hermione shot the smirking blond a withering glance."You know, you and Ginny were made for one another. And I suppose you also think I have a cauldron and stock supply of herbs in my pocket?"

"With you, it wouldn't surprise me," he answered ruefully.

Shaking her head, Hermione buttered a slice of toast and daintily bit into it. "Watch these two idiots," she commented, looking directly at Blaise and Luna. "There's no telling what might happen if you leave them to their own devices."

Ginny rolled her eyes hearing her friend's jibe. "We're not that bad, Hermione. Well, I'm not." She then pointedly looked at Draco, whom paused between bites and frowned.

"Sarcasm will get you everywhere," he muttered before resuming his meal.

The remainder of the morning was a somewhat casual affair. Hermione stayed at the manor until noon, promising to contact Ginny if she needed to before Apparating to her house. After making sure that no one noticed her popping into view, Hermione cautiously approached the back door. The doorknob remained at its normal temperature, and she sighed with relief as she stepped inside.

Hermione felt slightly out of sorts being inside of her house after being at Hogwarts for so long. Still, her surroundings were familiar and welcoming. Making her way to her room, she sat down on her bed. The house was eerily quiet, save for the occasional passing car outside. Realizing that she was still dressed in her grey apprentice robes, Hermione went to her closet to find a change of clothes. She loudly huffed in annoyance when she remembered that the majority of her things were back at the school.

Flinging open every drawer in her bureau, she finally managed to dredge up an old pair of jeans and a pullover that bore the letters from her Mum's alma mater. Pulling her hair back into a sloppy ponytail, Hermione went down to the kitchen, surveying the bare fridge and hastily compiling a short shopping list. She'd always kept a stash of money hidden in a cookie jar in the pantry, and shoved some of the Muggle currency into her pocket. Using her wand to secure her house, Hermione stepped back out into the afternoon air and walked to the local shops, furtively trying to push thoughts of a certain dark-haired wizard from her mind.

Hermione wasn't the only one having a difficult go of things. Ever since she'd left Hogwarts in tears, Severus had been sick with worry, even if he didn't show it. At Dumbledore's behest, he'd run after Hermione, ignoring the curious look on Poppy's face when he'd flown past her.

He'd searched the school grounds, Hogsmeade, and then the school again, going so far as to interrogate the ghosts as to if they'd seen the young, wild-haired witch. When no one had been able to tell him anything, Severus Apparated to Hermione's house, chancing the fact that she might have returned there. The thought of her going to the Burrow never crossed his mind, as Hermione had told him about Molly's treatment towards her.

Severus didn't think that Hermione had been able to break through his advanced wards, but used a charm to verify if she was inside of her house anyway. Finding it vacant, he was able to secure the fact that she had been there and tried to gain entry but was unsuccessful. He'd reached the end of his tether without any further clues as to where she might have disappeared to.

Upon returning to Hogwarts, Severus holed himself up inside of his private chambers with a bottle of Ogden's finest. He refused to emerge from the dungeon room all evening, until a loud banging came from his door.

Poppy was on the other side, demanding that he let her in.

"What do you want?" he groused after unceremoniously flinging the door open, shuffling back over to his armchair.

"I may be twice your age, but you of all wizards should know that I'm anything but dotty," she began. "What do you mean by hiding in here and drinking yourself into a stupor?"

"I'm the headmaster; it's my bloody prerogative to delve deep into my cups if I so wish," he replied.

"Don't you dare give me that codswallop, young man!" she chided, pointing a threatening finger. "Now what is it that's got you into a right state?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Severus replied stiffly, pouring himself another dram of firewhisky.

"You must think me a blind fool," Poppy retorted. "Whatever it is between you and your young witch, it can't be that bad that you feel the need to drown yourself in spirits instead of sorting it out."

Severus glared at the elderly witch, both of his black eyes focused intently on hers. "Dumbledore sent you down here, didn't he? That meddling old-"

"Well if you must know, yes, he did. He asked me to check on you since he was unable to as you abhor portraits in your room. Albus said you refuse to return to your office tower because you know you'd have to speak to him."

Scoffing, Severus took another drag of firewhisky. "I don't have to do anything."

"Oh, Severus! For goodness sake, go find Miss Granger and patch things up. Merlin knows I'd hate to see you back to your surly self again."

"Just what do you know of it?" he demanded.

"Honestly, Severus. It was obvious enough when you brought the young lady to the Hospital Wing. Now unless you'd care for me to draw up a list of my observations-"

"No, Poppy, that won't be necessary," Severus cut in. "I'll sort it, so long as you promise to keep this conversation between us. Leaving me to my solitude would also be greatly appreciated."

"You're not so old that I can't box your ears, young man!" Poppy threatened. "I've said enough. Goodnight. You just make sure to mind your words." With that she turned around in a flurry of red and white robes and flounced out of his sitting room.

Sighing with relief once the nagging witch had gone, Severus looked down at Midnight, whom was curled around his feet.

"Comfortable?" he drawled, slightly lifting up his right foot. Midnight softly purred, refusing to be removed from his place on top of Severus' boots.

It was nearly one in the morning when Severus had received Draco's owl. He'd fallen into an uneasy sleep, slumped over in his armchair, and empty glass and half-empty bottle of firewhisky on the coffee table before him.

Severus hastily read the note and was relieved to find that Hermione was safe. Draco hadn't alluded to their relationship in his note, yet Severus still briefly wondered exactly what Hermione had told her friends. Scrawling his reply beneath Draco's handwriting, Severus tied the parchment back to the owl's leg and watched as it departed.

Right on schedule, Midnight sauntered in front of Severus, mewing loudly and demanding to be fed. Practically growling at being disturbed, Severus used his wand to conjure up sustenance for the cat that immediately scampered off towards his bowl.

Slouching back down into his armchair, Severus wondered when Hermione would stop being thickheaded and decide to talk to him. He fully understood why she was upset with him, but perhaps if she would be reasonable they'd be able to sort everything out. Then, if she decided that she wanted nothing more than a professional, working relationship with him, so be it.

Severus knew that he and Hermione would cross paths eventually. He had to release his wards on her house, and she'd need to return to Hogwarts to retrieve her belongings. However, at the moment, the multiple glasses of firewhisky wouldn't allow him to move farther than his sitting room. Heaving himself out of the armchair, Severus stumbled his way to the bedroom, collapsing face down onto his bed, still completely dressed.

Severus jumped out of his sleep when he felt a slight tugging on the back of his head. Groggily turning over, he found Midnight sitting on his back, lazily batting his paws at his messy hair.

"Damned feline," he grumbled, sitting up and causing him to fall over onto a pillow with a soft thud. "Bugger off, or I'm going to turn you into a tea cozy." Midnight let out a loud meow and crept over to Severus, settling over his thigh. "Why can't you have a lie in like a normal cat? Don't you creatures typically lead a life of leisure?"

His head throbbed and his mouth tasted of ash. Severus continued glowering down at the kitten that seemed perfectly content, draped across his leg. "Why do you choose to torment me?" he asked. "McGonagall's Animagus is a tabby, you two would get along well. Bloody hell, I've lost it, I'm sitting here talking to a cat."

Groaning in disgust, Severus got up from the bed, ignoring Midnight when he yowled at being dumped from his lap. Remembering the late night message that he'd received from Draco, Severus Apparated out of his room without giving it any forethought.

Hermione wouldn't have said that she was settled back into her house, as she was still moving about in a sort of daze. She'd returned from the shops and was in the middle of putting everything away when she received an owl from Ginny. After writing back her reply, reassuring her friend that she was fine, Hermione sent the barn owl on her way.

She had every intention of preparing a small meal as the last time she'd eaten was almost seven hours ago. However, the thought of her distress was enough to cause her stomach to knot up, and Hermione was unable to think about food.

Walking up to her bedroom, Hermione turned her radio on and found a station that played classical music. Desperate for anything to soothe her grated nerves, she then went to run herself a hot bath. Turning up the radio so she'd be able to hear it in the bathroom, Hermione stripped out of her clothing and stepped into the sudsy water.

Closing her eyes, she settled her head back against the edge of the tub. Hermione thought back to what Luna had told her; that she should try and talk to Severus. The extremely observant witch had made a compelling argument that Hermione had to agree with; Severus wouldn't have purposely tried to hurt her. He explained that he'd modified her memories as a means to protect her.

Logically, Hermione knew that his reasoning made sense, but she was still unable to erase the horrid image of him sprawled on the floor with blood pouring from him, half conscious in her arms. Then, to be lied to about it made it all the worse. Shock and panic at the situation had made her run, but now she had to face things head on.

Thirty minutes later, the bubbles had disappeared and the bath water had grown tepid. Hermione got out of the tub and took her time drying off. Securing the fluffy white towel around her body, she walked back to her room and rifled through her drawers, looking for a pair of pajamas.

"Damn," Hermione swore underneath her breath. She kept forgetting that she was missing the majority of her wardrobe. The only thing she'd left behind by way of sleep wear was an old, flannel nightgown that was a bit snug around the chest and had a too short hemline. Her other option was a blush colored satin set consisting of a camisole, French knickers and a matching short robe. The slinky items had been a gift from her mum when she turned seventeen, with the explanation that every young woman deserved something fancy to sleep in.

Hermione had thanked her mum, but, silently, flat out refused to wear them. They weren't terribly skimpy, as the bottoms looked to conceal more than some bathing suits she'd seen. Still, Hermione had left the tags on the underwear, shoving it into a forgotten corner of her pajama drawer.

Now it was between the too hot, too small and itchy gown, or the breezy French knickers set. Going with her second option, Hermione carefully pulled the tags off and slipped them on. She was mildly appeased to find that the satin felt nice against her skin. Glancing across at her mirror, she approved of her appearance.

Rolling her eyes at her internal vacuous banter, Hermione sat down on her bed, running a comb through her damp hair. Tossing it down once she was finished, Hermione turned on her bedside lamp and fell down onto her pillow. It wasn't terribly late, yet the combination of the temperate music coming from the radio and the hot bath rendered Hermione somewhat at ease. Turning over onto her side and hugging the pillow, she closed her eyes.

Hermione woke up to the distinct sensation of fur tickling her cheek. She was slightly flustered before actually opening her eyes, wondering if she was going barmy when she saw the black kitten attempting to nuzzle against her.

"Midnight?" she said in a sleep induced voice, lethargically running her fingers over his fur. The kitten began meowing, his cries growing increasingly loud as if he was overjoyed to see her. "How did you get here?"

Even if Midnight had the ability of speech, he wouldn't have bothered answering Hermione as he was too enthralled with batting at her loose, fluffy curls.

"Midnight!" she grumbled while clutching at the cat, not wanting her hair to turn into a tangled rat's nest. "Midnight, let go. Let go! You naughty little-"

Hermione stopped short when she noticed the tall, dark figure standing in her doorway.

"Severus?" she asked in disbelief, her voice catching in her throat. Hermione's brown eyes had widened considerably, wondering if she was dreaming or if he'd really come to her house.

"Well, you aren't looking at me with complete disdain," he commented dryly, both arms behind his back and his stance tense and unyielding. "As it were, at the present time I'm unconcerned with the fact that you don't wish to see me. However, you will stay and listen, instead of childishly running off. I'll use a Body-Binding Curse on you if needed to make you see reason."

Swallowing nervously, Hermione gently pushed Midnight to the side and rose from her bed. "There's no need to threaten me," she answered, her heart thudding uncomfortably. Hermione began walking towards Severus yet stopped short, aiming to give him wide berth. "I promise not to run away."

Severus rigidly stood in place, obdurate onyx eyes peering down at the little witch that came up to his shoulder. Hermione quirked an eyebrow when she saw the appraising look on Severus' face, flushing slightly when she remembered her less than conventional sleep wear.

"These were the only pajamas I could find," she mumbled, lowering her head. Gasping softly when Severus closed the distance between them and pressed a warm hand to her cheek, Hermione was unable to stop herself from closing her eyes, nuzzling her face against him. True, she'd been cross with Severus, but she still missed him.

His hand crept from her cheek to the back of her head, gently pulling Hermione against him. Sighing dejectedly, she wrapped both arms around her wizard, burrowing her face into his chest.

"I'm sorry," he told her in a hushed tone. "It was never my intention to hurt you."

"I'd rather be hurt than lied to," she replied, greedily inhaling his longed for, familiar scent. "But I'm sorry for running out like I did." Hermione held onto Severus for a minute before letting him go, looking up into his face. "You smell different...but it's something that's almost familiar...Severus please tell me that you did not Apparate here drunk?!"

Severus glowered down at the suddenly incensed witch, whom drew back a hand and thumped him on the arm. "And how, pray tell, did you come to that conclusion?"

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Hermione snapped, roughly tugging Severus out of her doorway and in the direction of her bed. "What is it with you Slytherins lately? I've just been with Draco and Blaise, and they thought it quite amusing to play Exploding Snap or whatever the hell it was, whilst tossing back firewhisky! Which is what I can smell on you; don't deny it."

"So what if I have indulged a bit?" Severus grumbled, tautly perched on the edge of the mattress.

"A bit? A bit my arse; you smell as if you swallowed half the bottle. And to think you tried to begrudge me a second goblet of wine at dinner back at school! You're a right hypocrite, do you know that?"

Hermione took a time out from venting to stand in front of Severus. noticing that he looked tired and unkempt. His usually immaculate black suit was rumpled, and he looked as if he'd missed his morning shave. Running a finger across his bristly face, Hermione furrowed both brows together. "I bet you haven't eaten anything either," she spat accusingly.

Severus, in fact hadn't eaten, but he wasn't about to admit that to Hermione since she began her tirade. Of course now that she'd brought it up, he felt his empty stomach rumble in protest.

Hermione hadn't missed anything, and walked over to her dresser, yanking up a pink satin robe before jamming her arms into the sleeves. "Well, get up!" she snapped.

"You watch your tone when addressing me, Miss Granger," Severus darkly told her. "I'm still not fully pleased with you at the moment."

"Oh, hush, Professor," Hermione scoffed as she tugged him up from the bed. "You don't have a leg to stand on right now, and it would behoove you to remain silent. I'll concede that in spite of the firewhisky, you're remarkably steady on your feet."

Severus was thoroughly nonplussed yet covertly impressed at the way she was handling him. He was in no mood to argue. Severus had returned to Hermione's house early that morning to remove his wards. He'd attempted to wait around a bit for her return. When thirty minutes had passed without Hermione showing up, Severus returned to Hogwarts.

He'd made another trip back to her house, this time finding that she had been inside. Unbeknownst to the wizard, Hermione had popped out to the shops, leisurely taking her time to get everything done. She hadn't looked forward to returning to the empty house, knowing that the deafening silence would render her mad. She'd stayed away long enough for Severus to get discouraged, causing him to return, once again, back to Hogwarts.

His third return had been partly due to Midnight. Severus fed the cat, threw his catnip toy in his direction, going so far as to charm it to dangle above the feline's head. Still, Midnight had been relentless with his loud, accusatory mewing, as if he was in agony single-handedly due to the raven-haired wizard.

Severus thought about leaving his own sitting room just to escape the shrieking cat, but knew that he'd have to face his colleagues in doing so. If he'd gone to his office tower, no doubt Dumbledore would have gone about poking his nose into his business.

Severus had hastily scooped the cat up into his arms, before Apparating back to Hermione's house. The light was on in her bedroom, and he'd been able to faintly hear music playing. Hermione had placed more advanced wards on her house, something that Severus had taught her in their time together. He was still able to get past them, and cautiously made his way into her house and up the stairs.

He'd gone directly to Hermione's room, pausing at the door when he caught the sight of her half-dressed, nubile form lying on top of the duvet. Hermione had been sleeping on her stomach, her head buried in a pillow with her curls splayed about. His black eyes were drinking in the sight of her longs leg, leading up to the dark pink satin stretched across her curvy bum, when Midnight leapt from his arms, tottered across the floor and jumped onto the bed.

The cat immediately went for Hermione's hair, batting his paws at it until she stirred out of her sleep. Severus was unsure as to how Hermione was going to handle his sudden appearance. Her brown eyes widened when she looked up and saw him in her doorway, and to his relief she didn't send him away. Even if she'd tried, Severus would have stayed, forcing her to listen to him.

Instead the two silently took comfort in one another's presence, quietly offering their apologies. The last thing Severus pictured happening was Hermione lighting into him for showing up at her house with firewhisky on his breath.

Now she'd unceremoniously yanked him out of her bedroom and down to the kitchen, where she imperiously pointed at a chair.

"Unmitigated arse," she was muttering underneath her breath, noisily slamming things around as she pulled out ingredients for a hasty meal. "You're six sheets to the wind; were you trying to splinch yourself?" Hermione snapped, cutting her eyes in his direction.

"If I answer that, will I be in danger of you trouncing me over the head again with my own wand?"

Hermione huffed in annoyance. "Food first. Then we can delve into the heavy stuff afterwards," she told Severus.

He mutedly nodded his head, watching as she prepared a plate of sandwiches. The two ate in silence, the only time Hermione opening her mouth when she pulled out an apple crumble. "It's not homemade," she explained tersely as she cut and served Severus a large portion.

Severus told Hermione he didn't mind, picking up the fork and digging in. The apple crumble wasn't that appetizing yet he still attempted to eat it. Hermione had taken one bite of her own portion before her amber eyes widened.

"This is ghastly!" she moaned, trying not to crudely spit out the partially chewed apple bits. "Why didn't you warn me?"

Severus set his fork tines down on his plate and looked over at Hermione. "Because that wouldn't have been polite," he evenly replied.

Still cringing in distaste, Hermione took Severus' plate as well as her own, emptying them both into the rubbish bin. "Well, I appreciate your manners," she told him. "Even if my taste buds dislike you." Walking over to Severus, Hermione took him by the hand, leading him out of the kitchen and into the living room. They'd both settled down onto the sofa, a tense moment of silence lingering about.

"Where would you like me to begin?" Severus finally asked.

"Why didn't you tell me from the off?" Hermione began, skipping the preliminaries. When she saw Severus hesitate, she pressed on. "Were you even planning on telling me?"

"I'd like to first know - are you upset because I modified your memory? Or because I didn't tell you?"

Hermione released a sigh, anxiously running a hand through her hair. "Logically, I understand why you did it," she answered. "I wouldn't have been able to tell anyone about you helping us, be it willingly or under duress, if I didn't know."

"Precisely."

"But for goodness sake, we've been- and excuse me for the lack of a better expression- practically dry humping each other for months!" Hermione fumed. "How would you expect me to feel, knowing I've been lied to for so long, with someone I'm sharing a bed with?"

Usually if something had thrown Severus off kilter, he never showed it. However, Hermione was rarely crude if ever and his eyebrows shot up on his forehead at her unexpected comment. "I believe the word you're looking for is frottage, but yes, you are fully entitled to be upset. I should have told you earlier."

"You're damn right. It's unsettling to know that my memories were taken away from me so easily, remaining ignorant of those crucial bits for so long." Frowning slightly, Hermione twisted around on the sofa to look at Severus. "But for what it's worth, I'm not upset at you."

Severus' onyx eyes were unfathomable as he looked back at Hermione. "If I said that I'd take it back if I could, I would make a liar out of myself," he replied. "However I stand by my course of actions. I did what I had to do, which was protect you, your daft mates as well as the rest of the student body."

"I know that," Hermione said, becoming agitated. "But it still doesn't negate the fact that I feel as if something's been taken from me. You should have told me."

"What would you like to do, Hermione?" Severus asked in a clipped tone.

Hermione pondered his question for a moment, so enthralled with her thoughts that she didn't realize she was beginning to shiver slightly. Severus noticed how she'd began curling herself into a tight little ball. A plaid red throw folded over the back of the sofa caught his eye, and he plucked it down and draped it over Hermione's bare legs. He thought it a pity to cover up such a pleasant view, but at least she was warm.

"Thank you," she murmured appreciatively. Gradually relaxing her rigid posture, Hermione slumped back against the sofa. "Can you at least tell me if there are other modified memories that I haven't seen?"

Severus shook his head. "I'd only approached you in the forest that one time. There were a couple other instances when I'd managed to track you lot down, but I stayed out of sight. It was rare that you were completely alone, and I needed to stay hidden for obvious reasons. Of course I'd kept Dumbledore's portrait abreast of everything."

Slowly taking everything in, Hermione still bore a perturbed look on her face. "Next question. Can you explain why I'd been having dreams about that night in the Shrieking Shack?"

Severus' jaw noticeably tensed, and Hermione realized she'd hit a nerve. Still, the propensity for her having to have everything fully explained refused to leave.

"Try to understand; that night had taken a turn for the unexpected. Dumbledore and I both knew that Riddle was most likely going to kill me, hence the reason he'd made his own provisions, without even letting me in on some of them. You turning up threw a most unaccounted for wrench into our plans."

"Was Dumbledore upset with me?"

"Surprisingly, no," Severus continued. "I, on the other hand, was positively livid. Not because you saved my life- which I am eternally grateful for- but because you risked your own doing so. To this day I still question your motives."

"Why?"

"Why shouldn't I, Hermione? Potter hadn't seen my memories until after I was supposedly dead. What reason could you possibly have for wanting to help me?"

"Severus, ugh, I don't know!" Hermione answered desperately. "Intuition? Instincts? Maybe that was part of the reason. But logically speaking, the idea that you'd kill Dumbledore out of malice never made sense to me."

"Be that as it may, I'd been nothing but nasty to you since you were a child. You were the last person I'd expect to offer succor."

"You and I are both in agreement about that. You were positively horrid. Do you know how many times I cried myself to sleep because of your verbal abuse?" Hermione menacingly looked over at Severus, whom seemed lost in thought. "Even so, you were the one to save Ron, Harry, and I countless times over. I'm sure that accounts for something. But I still don't understand why I was only able to have flashbacks in my sleep."

"If you recall, I'd lost a lot of blood and was significantly weakened," Severus replied. "Apparating us back to my chambers drained the sliver of strength that remained. If you hadn't come along, surely I would have fared worse, but when I Obliviated you that last time, I failed to do so properly."

"Merlin's knickers, do you mean the memory charm was mucked up, like that idiot Lockhart?" Hermione asked aghast, burying her head in her hands. "I don't believe this. And of course, the damage is irreversible."

Severus looked at Hermione scathingly, as if he was insulted. "The damage is nowhere near the state of Lockhart's. But unfortunately, I cannot undo the charm. If I attempted to do so, I'd risk the chance of making things worse."

"No," Hermione said after a while, slowly shaking her head. "I'd rather live with partial memories than none at all. I suppose on some subconscious level I'd still held onto that night, but could never remember it upon waking. Although it was terrible, waking up out of my sleep crying hysterically and not knowing why. Maybe now I'll be able to have some sort of closure."

"It's probable, but I'm unable to guarantee that," Severus told her honestly. "I'm still amazed that you, a mere slip of a witch, risked life and limb to assist me."

"Why are you so shocked, Severus? Are you that mistrustful of everyone that you need to question well placed intentions?"

"Yes, and surely that shouldn't come as a surprise."

Hermione found herself rendered speechless. A blind person would have been able to see that the dark wizard was more complex than was fathomable. On the other hand, there were times that the two had merely sat in complacent silence, everything seeming completely tranquil. On many occasions an unbiased outsider, looking in, would have merely observed the two passing time in his sitting room. Without actually stating it, Severus and Hermione clearly enjoyed keeping each other company. It was incidents like so, that made Hermione believe that Severus was just like her and everyone else.

He'd just wanted a bit of peace in his life, and who could blame him after everything that happened? Hermione was still ignorant to many things of his dark past, as Severus was never inclined to divulge any of the painful memories.

Hermione would have gladly listened to anything he wanted to share, but the few times she'd attempted to ask about things that happened before her, he'd tended to become tight-lipped. After awhile she stopped asking, reasoning that Severus would share if he wanted to.

No doubt about it, she loved the difficult man, even though it was no easy feat.

"Well, it comes as a surprise to me. I've already told you, you're not as dark as you claim to be," Hermione offered, heaving a gusty sigh. "But I suppose if all your life you've done nothing but hide the good parts, you yourself eventually began to believe that they no longer exist."

"Did it ever occur to you that perhaps that was done by design? People are less apt to question you incessantly, or meddle in your personal affairs if they know that one is easily riled."

"Yes, but look where that's gotten you? I told you I love you, yet still you're questioning why I came back that night. Does that mean nothing to you?" Hermione spoke completely from the heart, looking at Severus so plaintively it pained him.

"Hermione, if anyone else had known about me nearly bleeding to death that night, believe me, my decaying body would have still been rotting away on the floor of the Shrieking Shack."

Severus hadn't meant to be harsh, but the grimness of his words made Hermione think of the Pensieve memory, and tears instantly stung her eyes.

"Hermione," he softly called, trying to garner her attention. Now sobbing quietly, she'd turned her head, not wanting Severus to see her. "Hermione," he repeated, shifting over and pulling her hand away from her face. "Silly little witch, you've already shed enough tears for a lifetime over me. There's no need for you to do so again."

Hermione shuddered as she tried to choke back her sobs. Soon as Severus heard the hitch in her breath, he'd reached over and pulled her against him. Hermione didn't register the buttons on Severus' frock coat that pressed uncomfortably against her cheek, nor the awkward position that she was sprawled in, her legs tangled in the tartan throw.

Clinging to Severus' black wool suit, all Hermione thought about was the fact that, snarky attitude, foibles and all, she loved him. Even if the sentiment wasn't reciprocated, she was unable to deny how she felt.

"Severus, I don't want to go through this again," she hiccuped out, trying to catch her breath. "You can't lie to me again; even if it's to protect me. I won't stand for it; I have to be able to trust you."

Strong arms wrapped were wrapped around her body, Hermione fervently wishing that they would remain there forever. In the same breath, she vaguely got the idea that Severus needed to hold onto her, just as much as she needed to hold onto him.

"I shall endeavour to make sure you never doubt me again," he reassured veraciously.

When her tears finally subsided, Hermione wiped her face with the back of her hand. She rested her head against Severus' chest, his hand idly stroking her hair.

"Where do we go from here?" he asked, nearly sounding as if he was worried about what Hermione's answer would be.

"What?" she croaked out. "Upstairs if you'd like...this sofa is too small for us to remain on."

"No, Hermione," Severus replied patiently. "Us, this."

Hermione's forehead furrowed in confusion. Sitting up and causing Severus' arms to slip down from around her body, she looked him squarely in the eye. "That depends."

Arching an eyebrow, Severus pondered those two words before responding. "Upon?"

"Before we...this...goes any further, is there anything else that I should know about first?"

Two discernible black eyes bore into a pair of imploring brown ones. "I never thought you were completely annoying as a child. Speaking of which, I apologize for each time that I've sent you to bed weeping."

"Apology accepted," Hermione replied. "While we're confessing, you should know that I set your cloak on fire during my first year."

Severus studied Hermione's slightly dampened face for a moment. "While you weren't completely annoying, I will admit you still had a penchant for mischief. Although I distinctly remember Potter and Weasley always on the tail end of things; somehow you always being dragged along."

"We thought you were trying to kill Harry! It's not as if you could blame us. Besides, once we'd found out the truth, it changed my view on you."

"How reassuring," Severus intoned. "Not to ruin the trip down memory lane, but I feel the need to point out the obvious. I'm nineteen years your senior. I'm sure you are well aware of the fact that you will face a large amount of adversity - which is an understatement - should our relationship go public."

"The public can sod off! It's you I love, you that's somehow managed to ensnare and consume me. Why should I worry about what others think?"

"Merlin girl, but you are a wonder. Did you ever think about the fact that five years, ten years from now, you won't want to be tethered to a surly, old wizard?"

"With all due respect, what part of 'I love you', did you miss?"

"I heard you the first time."

"I don't think you did. You might be a surly, old wizard but you're my surly, old wizard. And like it or not, you're stuck with me. So if you have a problem with that, you should walk away now."

"I'm many things, but daft isn't one of them," Severus growled in a low voice, possessively pulling Hermione back against him.

"Trenchant as ever, but I wouldn't expect anything less," she murmured, burying her face in his neck. "Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Can we please go upstairs now? It's damnably cold on this sofa."

"Well, if you're going to be this easy to please..."

Scoffing, Hermione roughly shoved the throw from around her legs and flicked it to the opposite end of the sofa. "Come," she said, taking Severus by the hand and leading him up to her room.
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Broken Dreams