Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Broken Dreams	By : onecelestialbeing Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 34577 -:- 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
- 20
- 21
- 22
Severus stirred in his sleep, inhaling the stale smelling air of his bedroom along with the faint vanilla trace of Hermione's hair. The little witch was curled against his side, her face buried into his chest. With perfect clarity the wizard remembered the time when he refused to share personal space, much less a bed, with another witch. Now, he had adapted to Hermione sleeping next to him, and even having difficulty doing so the night before when she had stayed at her own house.

Hermione had stayed firmly wrapped around Severus the entire night, intent on keeping him close even in the midst of sleep. She grumbled when she had to briefly relinquish her hold to allow him an early morning visit to the lavatory.

Suddenly releasing a slight yawn, Hermione opened her eyes and was about to sit up until she felt wiry arms holding her into place.

"Are you awake?" Severus asked her in a hushed tone.

"Sort of," she mumbled in a sleepy voice, plucking her hair out of her face and shifting her head to rest on his shoulder.

"How are you sort of awake?" Severus drawled, "Either you are or you aren't."

"I must say; your morning wit is just brilliant. I can hardly tell that you haven't had your tea yet." Hermione chuckled into Severus' skin, knowing that he was most likely sneering into her sleep-tousled curls.

"You're one to talk," he grumbled, running a hand across Hermione's lower back. "Instead of a proper good-morning, you give me cheek, brash Granger."

"Well, you started it first!" Hermione reproached, stretching her arms across Severus and gently digging her fingers into his side. She was thoroughly flummoxed when he sharply jerked away from her touch, causing Hermione to sit upright and look at him wide-eyed. "What's wrong?" she asked, now completely awake and trying to lift the duvet to look at the area she'd touched when Severus didn't answer. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," he abruptly replied, firmly holding onto the duvet to keep it over his body.

"Then what's the matter? Why did you pull away from me like that?" Hermione pressed with a confused look on her face. "Surely you aren't still hung up on your mark, because I told you that it doesn't bother me."

"It isn't that," Severus retorted, refusing to elaborate further.

"Then why are you behaving as if I've just slapped you?" Hermione queried. When Severus still wouldn't allow her to lift the duvet, pushing her hand away with each attempt, a glimmer of perception colored her eyes. "No," she gasped in awe. "Don't tell me you're..."

"And what if I am?" Severus snapped, once again trying to evade the little fingers that were threatening to expose his bare torso. "Hermione, I assure you, that is not a bridge you wish to cross."

"But you're ticklish!" she cheerfully trilled. "How have I missed that?"

"Let's just say that I'm extraordinarily skillful at diverting your attention elsewhere," Severus offered with a smirk. Hermione scowled, looking away from the two obsidian eyes that were boring into hers. "Fine; I won't tickle your waist," she assented, at the same time moving towards the foot of the bed.

Severus was momentarily distracted by the long line of Hermione's exposed back, leading down to her firm backside, only realizing at the last minute that the headstrong witch was lifting the duvet to unveil his feet. "Diabolical lass," reprimanded, quick on the uptake to grab Hermione by the ankle and pull her back towards him.

Hermione let out a loud yelp when she realized that she had been caught, and attempted to crawl away from Severus. "No you don't," he murmured, straddling Hermione's body and skillfully rendering her immobile.

"Let me up, Severus!" she laughed, her form prostrate and wriggling on the bed. Hermione flailed both legs about, stretching her arms above her head to pull herself forward.

"Thank you for making this easier," Severus pointed out, using one hand to hold both of her slim wrists down. "Now what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Nothing, seeing as you're the one trapping me here!"

The wizard merely gave a sinister chuckle, skimming his fingertips of the other hand against the curve of Hermione's hip. The petite witch unleashed a clamorous shriek, squirming and writhing in place in an attempt to get away from the probing fingers. "Dammit, Severus!" Hermione blustered, her movments growing erratic and her voice getting louder when the tickling fingers became more insistent. "Stop, dammit stop! Severus, STOP! LET ME GO, LET ME GO! I'M GOING TO WET THE BED!!!"

Severus released an uncharacteristic laugh that sounded odd in his deep timbre; yet he climbed off Hermione, highly amused at the sight of her bolting off the bed in all her naked glory, only to dart out of his bedroom and slam the lavatory door.

Once Hermione relieved herself, she crept back into the bedroom, all the while petulantly eyeing Severus. His black eyes still contained a trace of mirth, and he beckoned for Hermione to come back to bed. "You can't say that I didn't warn you," he chuckled. "But I think you've learned your lesson."

"Hmph," Hermione sniffed, tossing her tangled curls over one shoulder and walking over to the dresser. "Maybe I'll rejoin you when I come back," she continued, digging around in her handbag and pulling out her toothbrush. "I'll think about it whilst brushing my teeth."

"What if I make you?"

Murmuring something unintelligible beneath her breath, Hermione threw Severus a defiant glare before walking back out of the room. She was standing at the basin, still naked and brushing her teeth when Severus walked to the bathroom, lingering in the doorway as his dark eyes salaciously appraised her nubile form. Hermione was completely oblivious to the wizard standing across from her. She had just bent down over the basin, rinsing her mouth at the tap when she felt something graze against her thighs.

Letting out another indignant shriek, Hermione stilled when two arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back to meet the solid plane of a bare torso. "Must you continue to creep up on me?" she bit out, capitulating when Severus' fingers glided up to brush the swell of her breast. "Are you familiar with the word 'huggermugger'? Because you take its meaning to new heights."

"Perhaps I only take joy in startling you because it's quite easy to do so," he offered, snorting when Hermione tried to pull away from him. "Now, are you going to get back into bed like a good little witch?"

"Pray tell your reason for wanting me to do so?" Hermione replied, only for Severus to return a knowing look. "That's one very good reason," she grinned bashfully, leaning against the doorjamb and watching as Severus picked up his toothbrush. "I supposed I'll have to go check on Midnight later," she mused, absentmindedly twirling around a strand of hair. "And send Ginny back her owl. I hope those two haven't made a mess of things."

Mouth full of spearmint-flavored foam, Severus sardonically glanced at Hermione, his eyes clearly stating that she should know better than to make such a statement.

"Midnight isn't that bad, Severus," she frowned, watching him spit and rinse.

"Your wayward familiar attempted to chew on a rare tome, Hermione," Severus voiced, wiping his face dry on a towel. "Not to mention pulling my teaching robes down from my chair to make himself an impromptu bed, or climbing onto my desk and knocking over the contents of a brand new bottle of ink."

"So he's a tad mischievous; would you expect anything else from a kitten?" Hermione pointed out. "A kitten, that need I remind you, is always glued to your side as if you cast a Sticking Charm on him."

Hermione smugly peered up at Severus, whom now had one forearm propped against the doorframe and was hovering over her. "You can either remain garrulous or naked right now; personally, I'd prefer the latter," he drawled, mapping the flat of his palm across Hermione's stomach. She gave a short gasp when his hand dropped down between her legs, gently cupping her sex. "Should I take that moan to mean that you'll be returning to my bedroom?" he queried, enjoying Hermione's flustered visage when his middle finger languidly stroked her clitoris.

"As if you have to ask," she ground out, unable to keep her hips still. Severus continued staring down at her with a look of careful consideration, his fingertips continuing to trace small circles around the sensitive nub. Finally giving in to the sensations, Hermione's head fell back against the doorframe as a low groan of pleasure fell from her lips. She was seconds away from moving her thighs further apart when Severus' hand paused.

"I didn't think you'd want to finish this here," he told Hermione, effectively stopping her unspoken protest in its tracks. It took Hermione all of a split second to grab Severus by the wrist, forcefully pulling him into the hallway and to the bedroom. "You've yet to learn one whit of patience," he admonished from his place on the bed when Hermione's lips hurriedly moved to his neck. The little witch hadn't wasted any time in pushing him down onto the rumpled duvet, straddling his waist and eagerly going in for a kiss.

"Not when it comes to you," Hermione shamelessly added, running her fingers through Severus' slick hair and nuzzling her face against his. His cheek was slightly stubbly and in need of a shave, yet Hermione wasn't put off.

Severus' breath felt cool against her lips from the mint toothpaste, and Hermione flicked her tongue out, eager for him to reciprocate. Once the two were engaged in an ardent kiss, Hermione's full weight rested against him, her hands on either side of his head. Severus relished the feel of Hermione's softness against him, but wanted to finish what he started in the bathroom. Holding on to her waist, he easily shifted her beneath him.

"Who's the impatient one, again?" Hermione teased, shushing when Severus dragged a digit across her lips before pressing it inside.

"You are," he retorted, enjoying the surprised look in Hermione's brown eyes when she tasted her personal brand of musk. He had an almost feral gleam in his dark eyes as he intently focused on the delicate, pink lips wrapped around his knuckle. "Not that I expect it to change."

Pulling his finger from Hermione's mouth with an audible pop, Severus used the same finger to sweep over the hood of her clit. Instantly drawing a gasp of pleasure from the witch, Severus increased the pressure until Hermione's body was lightly thrashing against his. The two indulged in another fervent kiss, until Hermione's eyes slid shut, her small whimpers of pleasure becoming muffled.

"Open your eyes, Hermione," she heard Severus command in a deep, lust tinged voice. Reluctantly prying her eyelids open, Hermione looked up to find that his dark orbs were burning into hers.

It was a task easier said than done, as each skillful stroke of Severus' fingertips sent her mind reeling. Digging her nails into her palms, Hermione nearly fell captive to the sensations sweeping over her body, causing an immense threat of her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

"Look at me," Severus implored once more. He refused to look anywhere but at Hermione's face; noting the crinkled line that kept appearing between her eyebrows, and the way her mouth gaped open the closer she approached climax.

"I can't!" she uttered, screwing her eyes shut as her head thrashed wildly about on the duvet. Hermione's hips bucked wildly against Severus' hand when it suddenly stopped moving. "What-" she snapped, falling silent when his lips came down upon hers.

"You know the rules," he droned in a hushed tone, letting his hand limply rest against the thatch of dampened curls.

"You are wicked," Hermione gritted out between tightly clenched teeth, although her brown eyes opened and focused on the two dark pools a hairsbreadth away from her face.

"Much better," Severus drawled, resuming where he'd left off. His pointer and middle fingers adroitly swirled around the now throbbing nub, inadvertently picking up the slick moisture of Hermione's arousal. She was panting through the effort of keeping her undivided attention on Severus' face, at the same time his caresses threatening to send her careening over the edge. "Good girl; I do believe that you are nearly there," he coaxed, hearing Hermione's breath quicken.

Her quickened breaths turned to harsh gasps, and a guttural cry was ripped from her mouth as her body dissolved into uncontrollable shudders. "Good girl," Severus murmured again, pressing kisses against the stiffened points of Hermione's nipples. She was still whimpering with the aftershocks of her orgasm when Severus tipped her over onto her stomach, pulling her up on hands and knees and shoving a pillow beneath her body.

Brokenly sobbing out when he came behind her and hastily pushed into her still pulsating channel, Hermione buried her face into the duvet, struggling to keep herself upright. Severus clutched onto her hips, his lightly furred thighs rubbing against the backs of hers as he sett up a smooth thrusting motion.

The new angle lent a more intense depth to their coupling, and Hermione was unable to hold back her high pitched cries of pleasure. Severus bottomed out within her just at the brink of pain, the head of his cock lodged firmly against her walls. Hermione's fingers dug into the thick duvet, her back wantonly arched as she met each thrust of Severus' hips.

The fact that Hermione was eagerly accepting him was enough to arouse Severus; but the sight of her curved, slender back nearly made him erupt too soon. He had to slow down his ingress, just enough to get his bearings together, at the same time causing the young witch to loudly protest.

Finding that it was futile to hold back, Severus clutched onto Hermione's shoulder and waist, his fingers sharply biting into her skin. Hermione was so caught up in needing to come again that she never registered the pain, instead, throwing her body into the motion.

"Fuck!" Severus hissed, feeling her sleek muscles clamping down on him, almost rendering him unable to move for a second. His voracious assail into her body had easily set off Hermione's climax, and she fell limply against the pillow when the waves slightly receded.

Curving his body over Hermione's, Severus wrapped an arm around her waist, using the other to hold himself up. The two were both pressed against the bed, with Hermione's soft behind arching up into his abdomen with each movement.

"Severus!" she desperately groaned, completely pinned down by his weight as he continued to relentlessly ride her into the mattress. His head was buried in the crook of her neck and tongue laving across her shoulder blades.

Severus was unable to hold back his own exultation, the temerity of his deep groans matching hers when they reached a final and simultaneous climax. Falling limply against the trembling witch, Severus breathed heavily into her frizzy curls. His right arm was still around her waist, although its grip had loosened considerably. Planting one last kiss on her sweat dampened shoulder blade, Severus rolled over onto his side, taking Hermione with him.

Hermione’s breathing finally slowed and evened out, yet she remained completely still. She had fallen asleep, and the room was silent save for her softly taking in air. Severus, on the other hand, lay wide awake, his body still pleasantly humming from its release.

An hour later, Hermione stirred beneath the duvet before opening her eyes. She felt comfortably warm, yet slightly disappointed to find that she was alone in bed. Feeling around beneath her pillow, she withdrew her wand and summoned her watch, shocked to find that it was nearly noon.

After bathing and dressing in record timing, Hermione went downstairs to look for Severus. “Sorry; I didn’t mean to put you out your bedroom,” she said, finding him reading in the front room. Noting the clean, smooth line of his jaw, it appeared that he had also showered and shaved, as his black hair looked slightly less lank, his attire consisting of a light jumper and trousers. “It’s going to take me awhile to get used to not seeing you in a suit.”

“Yet it seems as if you’re already accustomed to seeing me in nothing at all,” he glibly replied from his armchair. Flushing slightly, Hermione sat down across from Severus, idly twirling her wand about between her fingers. “I didn’t want to interrupt your lie-in,” he continued.

“I wouldn’t have minded,” she answered. “Have you eaten yet?” Watching as Severus shook his head, Hermione stood up and walked over to him. “We’ll have something at my house; I need to go back and feed your familiar.”

“I think you mean your familiar,” he replied tersely.

“I meant what I said the first time,” she retorted, ignoring Severus scowl as she retrieved her traveling cloak that had been left on his sofa. Hermione was still laughing at Severus as her muttered something about using a Silencing Charm on her underneath his breath, following him out of the house as they walked to a covert Apparition point.

Hermione was thoroughly surprised to find Midnight and Button calmly playing together in her front room. Midnight’s furry little limbs were sprawled out on her floor, and Button was hovering over him, and they appeared engaged in a game of cat-and-mouse, as the kitten tried to swipe at the miniature owl with his paws, only for the bird to fly out of reach and cheerfully hoot.

“Everything appears to be intact,” she announced, peering at her sofa and books on her coffee table. “Good kitty,” she praised, smiling when Midnight scampered over and rubbed up against her legs. He did the same to Severus, turning around and staring up at the dark wizard in an uncanny manner that dared him to say something.

“Did your cat just give me cheek?” he drawled, watching as Midnight continued his game with Button.

“What are you going to do, Severus, give him detention? Take house points?” Hermione chuckled, walking over to the two animals. It took her more than a few swipes before she was able to hold onto the wildly twittering owl. “Come here! I need to send you back to Ginny.”

Button gave a baleful hoot, but allowed the witch to carry him into the kitchen. Penning a short message to her friend, Hermione sent the owl off, her eyebrows rising when she saw the almost sad look on his little face. “Oh for goodness sake, you can come back and visit your mate; just take my letter to Ginny first,” she said exasperatedly when the owl was hesitant at flying out the window.

Now hooting cheerfully, Button outstretched his wings and soared out the kitchen window. “Am I to pander to an owl’s feelings now?” she rhetorically asked, going to the pantry and pulling out a tin of cat food.

“You already pander to a cat’s feelings,” Severus easily replied, sitting at the counter and peering down at Midnight whom was prostrated at his feet. The kitten mewled pitifully as if he understood that he was being talked about, swiping a paw at Severus’ trousers. “Go away, you little miscreant.”

“I told you; he’s your familiar,” Hermione said, dumping the food into Midnight’s bowl. The kitten immediately forgot about Severus and ran over to his dish, eagerly gulping down his meal. Tossing the empty tin in the rubbish bin, Hermione turned to the sink and washed her hands. “I hope things are all right with Ginny,” she went on, remembering the horrible row between her and Ron and Molly. “I wonder what happened after she left with Draco?”

“Surely nothing terrible, else Miss Weasley would have most likely traveled to the ends of the earth in aim of finding you.”

“That is true,” Hermione thoughtfully replied, curiously looking down at Midnight whom had all but licked his dish clean and was now focused on the window above the sink. Seconds later, Button came zooming back inside, and she had to force the small owl still whilst untying the bit of parchment from around his leg. “You were right; Ginny says she’s fine, and that she’s going to stay with Fred and George until things settle down at the Burrow. Honestly, this is all so ridiculous.”

“True, but even so, how do you think your friends would behave if they found out about you and I?” Severus asked, plaintively looking at Hermione.

“Well…you’re likely to find out anyway, but Ginny knows about us,” she confessed.

“I suppose that was bound to happen sooner or later, and I trust that she will remain circumspect about the situation, but I’m speaking of the other ginger and Boy Wonder. I dare not think of Mrs. Weasley’s reaction.”

His comment gave Hermione pause for a moment, even though she bore a look of irritation. “I’m an adult, last time I checked,” she snapped. “And the last thing Molly wants to do is get on my bad side. She might have gotten away with it when I was a child, but if she so much as twists her mouth to even hint towards my relationship I’ll-“

Her words were cut short when she realized that Severus was intently focused on her face, waiting to hear the end of her sentence. Relationship? She thought to herself. What is this exactly between Severus and I?

Hermione’s mounting anger had already fizzled, and she turned back towards the counter, going through the motions of preparing lunch.

“Severus, can you get that book for me please?” Hermione asked when the two returned to Spinner’s End. It was late in the evening and they retired to the front room after dinner, as Hermione was eager to get her hands on Severus’ vast collection of books.

“You’ve a wand, haven’t you, witch?” Severus grumbled, although he moved next to her and easily retrieved the desired tome. He did little more than extend his already long arm to pluck the book from its high shelf, before thrusting it in Hermione’s direction. “Is there anything else you need before I retire to my armchair? A hair grip for those messy curls of yours?”

“Shush,” she retorted, holding onto the front of Severus’ jumper and standing up on tiptoe to kiss him. “Thank you for the book. Now, please feel free to visit your armchair.”

Hermione still had a smirk on her face when she settled on the sofa across from Severus, fighting back the laugh at the withering glance he was sending in her direction.

The next few days repeated a similar pattern. Hermione spent all of her with Severus at his Cokeworth home, the two only returning to her house in the mornings to feed Midnight, until Severus grudgingly offered Hermione the opportunity to bring the kitten along.

Midnight had taken to his surroundings like a fish to water. Severus set a charm on each room that only allowed the kitten enough berth to freely move about, yet he was unable to come in contact with his books or furniture unless either of the two were nearby. Hermione had brought along his catnip toy, and Severus conjured an old, broken stool into a large scratching post, and Midnight was able to entertain himself.

Friday started off rather uneventfully. Hermione had been awoken by Severus fussing at Midnight, whom was curled next to his pillow, batting him in the head with his tail. Later that afternoon, the two were having lunch in the kitchen when Ginny’s owl came to the window, rapidly tapping at the glass with his beak.

“Oh damn, what now?” Hermione lamented, letting Button in and hastily snatching the parchment from round his leg. “That’s it!” she snapped, tossing the note down next to her plate. “It’s bad enough that Ron was getting on Ginny’s case, now he’s got Harry doing the same thing. I have a mind to set those two idiots straight.”

Severus gave a derisive snort, also fed up with all the drama. “I wonder what those two think Draco is going to do with Ginevra. Shove her off the roof of Malfoy Manoy? Obviously they’ve been getting along well enough without the interference; do they expect for that to change?”

“I have no idea,” Hermione replied, tying her reply to Button’s leg and sending him back through the window. “But I’m going to pay Harry a little visit later today and perhaps Ron as well. This madness has got to come to an end. Ginny kept quiet the entire time Harry was mooning after Cho Chang, yet he and Ron had plenty to say whenever she went out with other blokes.”

“I seem to remember you having your own little run-in with one of Mr. Weasley’s paramours; Miss Brown fairly knocked me over as rushed into the hospital wing after hearing that-what was that ridiculous name she used?”

“Won-won,” Hermione mimicked in a high-pitched voice, cringing at the same time. “Please don’t remind me; I’ve worked hard to forget about that horrid school year.”

“You and I both,” Severus drawled, thinking about his own reasons. “Are you finished?” he asked, clearly ready to change the subject as he gestured to Hermione’s plate.

“Yes, thank you,” she answered, watching as Severus collected their breakfast dishes and carried them to the sink. Sipping at her now lukewarm cup of tea, Hermione furtively eyed Severus’ profile as he tended to the washing up. He rigidly stood at the sink, going through the rigamarole of tidying up the Muggle way. Once Severus was finished, he dried his hands on a dishcloth, neatly folding the material before placing it down on the countertop.

“There’s no Basilisk around; why are you sitting there as if you’ve been Petrified?” Severus asked without turning around.

“Perhaps your rugged charm has me frozen into place,” Hermione shot back with a smile, realizing that she’d been caught staring.

“Or perhaps you need to have your head examined.”

“Please pray tell what would warrant me to visit a psychiatrist?”

“You’re here with me; I think that’s proof enough,” Severus replied lightly, although it seemed as if there was some seriousness to his words.

“What? Why would you say that?” Hermione countered, immediately picking up on the smoothly inserted self-deprecation. She got up from the little kitchen table and stood in front of him, obviously waiting for an answer. Severus kept a straight face as he looked down at Hermione yet remained silent. “Well?”

The dark-haired wizard folded his arms across his chest, continuing to stare down at the petite and now glowering witch. “You behave as if I’m speaking falsely,” he finally replied.

“Severus…I don’t know what you’re getting at, but I will say this-you’re being stupid and I’m going to ignore that comment.”

“You know, I believe this is the first time in a long time that someone’s called me stupid-to my face, at least.”

“That’s because you are being stupid!” Hermione shrilled. “I told you why I’m here, unless you think I’m lying to you.”

“Not lying, but perhaps a bit faulty in your judgement,” he offered in a non-accusatory tone.

Hermione looked at Severus as if he was spouting gibberish. “You know, for someone that is highly intelligent, you tend to be a bit thick-headed at times.” While Hermione knew that Severus wasn’t one to blatantly express his feelings, she knew that the man battled with insecurity on some level, and it managed to appear at the most unexpected moments.

It had been mind-boggling the way he ran from hot to cold, sometimes seemingly within the blink of an eye, but Hermione noticed that Severus often stared at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, the expression on his face showing disbelief, as if he didn’t believe she was really there. It made her wonder about the women he was used to dealing with, or the types of relationships he had previously been involved in.

Up until then, Severus had just divulged about his upbringing, as well as brief anecdotes about his time doubling as a spy, yet it only just occurred to her that he had never mentioned any previous paramours, or even so much as a childhood crush. Hermione couldn’t help but wonder just what Severus’ personal life entailed before they became involved.

Closing the space between them, Hermione tugged Severus’ arms down from his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. “You know as well as I do, that my reasoning is completely sound,” she told him, burying her head in his neck. “I’m here because I want to be, regardless of what your addled wits tell you.”

Severus quietly listened to Hermione, his arms still hanging by his sides. Unable to resist holding onto the soft witch pressing her body against his, he finally slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and burying his face in her messy curls. He hadn’t meant to sound self-pitying, but deep down, Severus honestly wondered just what it was that made Hermione want him. He knew he wasn’t the easiest person to get along with, or one whose appearance was easy on the eyes, yet Hermione clung to him like Devil’s Snare, always touching or kissing him.

She also clearly enjoyed his company. Despite Severus always telling Hermione that she rambled incessantly, the two usually became engrossed in conversation, their banter sometimes turning into slightly heated yet friendly debates.

For the most part, it seemed as if their shared recurring nightmares had ended, although they never had the chance to find out what would happen if the two didn’t share a bed, as neither was inclined to test out that particular theory.

“Are you finished now?” she asked, “or shall I thump you in the head until my point has been made?”

“I assure you, there’s no need for violence,” Severus smoothly replied, brushing a few wayward curls away from Hermione’s face. “Your point has been proven.”

He didn’t bother mentioning that he still felt some sort of way, knowing that it would only serve to most likely cause a row or worse. Severus almost felt petulant about his slip of tongue, yet saw no reason to mince his words. Up until that point he had managed to keep bottled his conflicting emotions; Severus was aware that he loved Hermione, yet was loath to find out what would happen had he actually confessed the way he felt.

It was no secret that Severus didn’t let anyone in his personal space; the fact that he and Hermione had developed a relationship within the past few months was nothing short of a feat for him. He still had trouble letting her completely in, although he suspected that Hermione was conscious of that one snag. Of course, she refused to mention it, which was surprising as she had always been one to state the obvious. It hadn’t gone unnoticed to Severus that the young witch had indeed matured, even in ways that he hadn’t foreseen. The fact that Hermione was still insistent on remaining by his side spoke volumes, but it still didn’t erase the self-doubt that Severus often struggled with.

Hermione now had her head buried in his chest, running her nose against the material of his jumper. Seemingly oblivious to Severus' internal crisis, she went on about her usual manner of stroking the back of his neck, twirling the hair at his nape around in her fingers before pulling him down for a kiss.

Waging an inward battle or not, Severus was unable to resist the petite witch’s charms, and eagerly accepted her affections, feeling some of his stress lessen when her body melted against his. It was rare that Severus met a woman eager to accept him completely, foibles and all, or one that was bold enough to challenge him or call him out upon his nonsense. Hermione did both, and to make matters better or worse, depending upon how Severus was looking at the situation, the gleam in her eyes never failed to appear whenever he was around.

That alone was enough to set him off kilter. Severus lived almost his entire life without anyone having high expectations for him. The thought that he would somehow disappoint Hermione in the future was disconcerting, but it wasn’t as if he planned on letting her go. That was the furthest thing from his mind.

“Stop scowling, Severus,” Hermione said in a muffled voice, her lips still pressed against his chest. “Whatever it is you’re thinking about-knock it off. I can almost hear the cogs turning in your head, and at the rate you’re going, that line in your forehead is never going to disappear.”

“I’m an old man; I’m supposed to have lines in my face.”

“One, you’re not old, but if you keep frowning like that, you won’t have lines, you’re going to have crop signs.”

“You ought to have more respect for your elders, little one,” Severus growled into Hermione’s ear, lightly nipping at her neck and making her laugh.

“Perhaps I’ll dig some up when you hit the triple digits,” she cheekily replied, tugging on Severus’ hair and leading him into the front room.

“Hermione, keep your damned familiar away from my books,” Severus drawled from his armchair, his face obscured behind his own tome. He barely looked up when he noticed Midnight prowling next to Hermoine’s feet, his beady blue eyes intently focused on the closed book next to her on the sofa.

“You’re starting to sound like a parrot with my ‘your familiar’ bit, just so you know.”

“Nuances; either way, keep that furry beast away from that tome. It took me longer than I care to recount to obtain it and is an only edition and irreplaceable.”

“You've heard your master, Midnight,” Hermione chided, using her wand to set a small shielding charm around the kitten. Sniggering when Midnight cocked his head at her yet strutted off in the opposite direction, Hermione put down the book she was currently reading and picked up the one Severus had been adamant about keeping protected from the cat. It was only befitting that she accidentally knock the rare tome over, nearly sending it flying to the floor when she managed to catch it midair.

“Sorry about that!” she chirped, seeing the glare on Severus’ face. Finding that his book hadn’t been damaged, Severus turned his attention back to his own reading. Hermione noticed that something had fluttered from between the yellowed pages of the book, landing partially beneath the sofa, and she had to get down on her hands and knees to retrieve it.

When Hermione found the crumpled up, ink-blotched and ancient looking parchment, along with a ripped moving photograph of an attractive, and widely smiling redheaded witch, she was unable to tear herself away from it. The woman was most likely in her late-twenties and looked vaguely familiar. Hermione was trying to remember where she’d seen the woman’s face before as she turned to stand up, about to shove the note and tattered photograph back into the book when she found Severus hovering over her.

“Goodness, you scared me!” she yelped, scrambling to her feet. Hermione smiled until she noticed Severus’ black eyes focused on the two items in her hand, an odd expression on his face. “This fell out of your book,” she explained, holding out the note and photograph. Severus deftly plucked both items from her hand, shoving them between the pages of his own book before going to sit back down.

All right…Hermione thought to herself of his peculiar behavior. She half expected Severus to give an explanation as to whom was in the picture, yet it was obvious that he had no intentions of doing so. An unsettled feeling suddenly came over her, yet Hermione stiffly returned to the sofa, picking up her book. She turned to the first page, lingering on it for a while, unable to focus on the words.

Hermione was confused as to why Severus’ attitude had suddenly changed; even his posture was more rigid than usual once he had retaken his seat. Furtively peeking over at the dark wizard, Hermoine saw that his fingers were tightly clasped around the spine of his book, his knuckles slightly strained by the effort. Almost on the verge of asking Severus what was troubling him, something told Hermione to keep her mouth shut for the moment.

Peering at the small clock on the mantle, Hermione was rent between the need to scream and curse in frustration. More than anything, she wanted to find out the reason for the sudden shift in her wizard, but she had contacted Harry early that morning after receiving Ginny’s owl, and he invited her to stop by Grimmauld Place at five that afternoon.

“Severus, it’s five o’clock,” Hermione said, reminding him of her appointment with Harry. “Remember, I’m supposed to be-“

“I remember,” he replied in a clipped tone without looking up. “You may Apparate from here, if you wish.”

Fighting the urge to reply testily, Hermione told Severus that she wouldn’t be long. He merely nodded once, without lowering his book. Even after Hermione had tossed her traveling cloak round her shoulders and told Severus goodbye; he still refused to offer more than a grunt, and his continuously dismissive attitude made her nerves prickle with anxiety.

“I have to admit, Harry, you’ve done a nice job with the house,” Hermione praised once she was seated in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place with Harry. “It’s cleaner and brighter than when we first stayed here.”

“Yeah, well…Kreacher is a big help,” he replied, nervously brushing back his messy hair. “If it wasn’t for him, I’d probably have boggarts and all sorts of nasty things running rampant.”

“Yes, I suppose,” Hermione said, picking at the biscuit on the plate in front of her. “All right, enough of that mindless chatter. Do you want to tell me why the hell you’re bothering Ginny?”

Harry shot Hermione an offended look, both eyebrows shooting up over the rim of his glasses and becoming lost in a fringe of messy hair. “All I did was send her an owl, to make sure that she was all right. Ron told me what happened and I know how he gets.”

“That wasn’t the impression I got from her last message. Ginny seemed rather put out with you.” Glaring at Harry as she waited for an answer, Hermione rolled her eyes when she saw the sheepish expression on his face.

“I guess I did pry a bit; I asked if she was really seeing Malfoy and her reply was just short of a Howler.”

“You and Ron have got to stop this; Ginny is of age and can see whoever she likes. It’s bad enough Mrs. Weasley is behaving the way she is, but we’re all supposed to be friends, no matter what. We’ve gone through enough together to let something stupid like this put us on the outs with one another.”

“You’re right, Hermione,” Harry told her with a sigh. “I’ll set things right with Ginny. Even though we aren’t dating, I still love her.”

That comment let the wind out of Hermione’s sails, and she immediately felt bad for jumping down her friend’s throat. “Not like that, Hermione,” Harry told her, frowning. “I love her as a friend; something that I think we’re better suited as anyway. I’ll admit that I was surprised about her seeing Malfoy, of all people, but if he makes her happy then that’s all that matters.”

“That’s a very mature thing to say,” Hermione smiled, nudging Harry in the side with her elbow. “I’m glad to hear it; I just wish certain other members of the Weasley family shared your sentiment.”

“I expect that they’ll come around,” Harry mused, taking his glasses off and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “So how are things with you? We never really got to chat the last time we saw one another.”

Hermione gave a thoughtful nod, remembering the last time Ron and Harry had visited Hogwarts, and the small tiff that they had all gotten into. “I can’t complain; I’m just glad my apprenticeship is over, although something tells me I’m going to go batty once the school term resumes.”

“Well, I mean it could have been worse. You could have been apprenticing under Snape,” Harry averred. “Not that I have much of a problem with him, but you have to admit that the man is still a nasty piece of work. I can’t fathom having to work in close proximity with him.”

“Professor Snape isn’t that bad,” Hermione replied, reminding herself to use his title and not ‘Severus’. “He was actually quite helpful during my apprenticeship; old Sluggy was either kipping or drinking, and I could never find him when I needed to.”

“Yeah, but still Hermione, the man can turn a glass of milk with a single sneer. Aren’t you apprehensive to be working at Hogwarts with him as headmaster?”

“Well, I was at first, yes,” she truthfully admitted. When she had received the headmaster’s owl, offering the position as Potions mistress, Hermione had been more than a little shocked. As a student it had been all she could do to earn an ‘Outstanding' in Potions, as Snape apparently hated handing out anything high to students that weren’t in Slytherin House.

There had been many days that she wanted to pitch her cauldron over, hair gone frizzy from laboring over it for hours and her potion still hadn’t come out right. She had to admit that Slughorn was a more patient professor, even if a bit lax at times. His teaching methods were different as night and day compared to Snape’s, but of course, Harry had no complaints about Slughorn.

From the start Hermione was hesistant about accepting the position. With her war-hero status and stellar grades, she literally had her pick of gainful employment. Despite Kingsley taking over as Minister of Magic, Hermione still was a bit jaded with the Ministry and wasn’t keen on working there, even though she had received more than a few handsome offers.

Teaching Potions wasn’t something she had expected to do; if anything perhaps Arithmancy, as it was her favorite subject. But a job was a job, and Snape had been exceedingly lenient about allowing her time off to spend with her ill mother before she passed.

Still, wayward students and all, Hermione found that she enjoyed going back to Hogwarts. Teaching suited her bossy nature, and she was now able to spout off her extensive knowledge of various subjects, at the same time being compensated to do so. That was actually one of the things that the headmaster mentioned during their meeting; that she could finally be paid for being a know-it-all, and Hermione had convulsed into laughter once she left his office.

“I suppose Snape isn’t that bad, especially considering everything that happened with…you know,” Haryy continued, pulling Hermione from her reverie. “We would never have known that he actually has a heart, but after viewing his memories in the Pensieve, it was clear that he carried a haulage's worth of remorse for what happened to my parents.”

“You know, Harry, you never actually told us what you saw that day,” Hermione said, trying not to think about her own trip into the Pensieve, as the image of Severus bleeding out onto her hands flooded her mind.

“Kingsley is the only one that knows…but some part of me wanted to afford the man a bit of privacy. I don’t think Snape would have taken too kindly to the story of his unrequited love for my mum, along with the fact that he was partly responsible for her death, splashed along the front of the Daily Prophet. Especially after I told everyone he was the one that killed Dumbledore, and then finding out that Dumbledore asked him to do so, even when Snape didn’t want to.”

“What’s that about your mum?” Hermione asked, trying not to sound too eager. Harry missed the tone in her voice, and went on with his story.

“Hermione…” he trailed off in a slightly pained voice. “Fine, I’ll tell you, but just please keep it to yourself. I haven't told anyone else simply if not for my own reasons, one of them being that I don’t need to get on Snape’s bad side-again. He might have turned out to be innocent for the most part, but he still has that dark, sadistic personality, and the last thing I need is for him storming to my house, throwing hexes at me.”

“Honestly, Harry, you know me better than that.”

“You have a point. Here, have some more tea, this might take a while.”

By the time Harry was finished with his story, Hermione sat numbly, sipping at the now lukewarm and tasteless tea. Severus had never divulged his ties to Lily, and hearing about her had left Hermione’s stomach twisted into one large knot.

“You know when they say that someone’s pulled the rug out from underneath you? That’s how I felt after finding out that Snape loved my mum since they were kids. I won’t lie; I felt weird about the entire situation, seeing him after the war with him knowing that I was privy to his innermost secrets. Now do you see why I never said anything to anyone else besides Kingsley? It was enough to not have him sent to Azkaban, and even Kingsley agreed that Snape deserved to be left in peace. Though why he chose to remain at Hogwarts is a mystery to all.”

Hermione was having difficulty finding her voice. She wasn’t upset at Severus’ past misdoings; it would have been foolish to believe that he’d led a pristine life, especially since she knew that he had been a Death Eater as well as Dumbledore’s spy. It left little doubt that Severus had never gotten his hands dirty.

Little by little, things because sliding into place in Hermione’s brain. The picture of the redheaded woman that had fallen from between the pages of Severus’ book, matched the woman in the photograph of Harry’s parents that he had carried around with him since they were kids.

Why didn’t he tell me? She asked herself, going over each likely scenario in her mind. Was he still in love with Lily? Or perhaps he was just keeping Hermione around because he knew he could never have the person he had always wanted, and was just settling for her instead?

The knot in her stomach pulled, and Hermione jumped up from the table and fled to the bathroom. Ignoring the questioning look on Harry’s face, as well as the muttered snarls from Kreacher whom had been lurking about in the hallway, Hermione slammed the bathroom door shut and promptly lost the contents of her stomach.

Flushing the toilet and rinsing her mouth at the sink, she dried her face on a towel, pressing it against her mouth to muffle the erupting sobs. To say that Hermione felt like the world’s biggest fool was an understatement. It wasn’t as if she had expected love sonnets or written, heartfelt sentiments from Severus-that image alone was enough to make Hermione laugh had she not felt so despondent.

But the fact remained that she opened herself to him-literally and figuratively- and thought that he had been slowly doing the same, only to face yet another obstacle. It was then that Hermione had to remind herself that she had been the only to always approach Severus, whether he wanted her company or not.

She had been the one to go back and help save his life the night he nearly died, a year later attempting to assuage his nightmares the week he stayed at her house. She was the one to kiss him first in the darkened laboratory, and the first one to make advances towards him in the darkness of his bedroom.

Severus had never actually protested her advances-in fact, they almost seemed welcomed. On the other hand, she wanted to tell herself that the few jealous fits he displayed meant that he harbored something deeper than sexual attraction for her. But if it was one thing that Hermione had learned, was that some men were eager to stake their claim on a woman, even if their attention was otherwise divided. She had seen it time and again with Ron and Harry.

Ron had gone off chasing a slew of other witches, only turning to Hermione when she was available, at the same time demanding her full attention. Harry clearly didn’t have his heart set on a relationship with Ginny, yet became cross when he heard about her going out with other people. Viktor Krum hadn’t been much different; one minute he was making eyes at her, the next, attempting to chat up every single witch at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. He didn’t know that Hermione was aware of his less than conspicuous behavior, and was flummoxed when she didn’t bother responding to his letters once the war had ended.

Even though she and Severus had been intimate-again, reminding herself that she all but offered up her body on a silver platter-Hermione had to admit that Severus never gave any promises of a commitment or exclusive relationship. He did tell her that he didn't like to share, but what did that really mean? So easily she had confessed her feelings for him, perhaps too hastily, as she ignored that fact that he never verbally returned her platitudes.

Her reasonable side wanted to overanalyze even the most mundane of things shared between them, yet Hermione tried convincing herself that being told something was different compared to assuming them. Severus behaved as if he cared for her, and Hermine distinctly got the impression that he didn’t wish to share her with another wizard in any other capacity, if his possessive nature was anything to go by.

The one time Hermione tried to pry, asking Severus if she was his witch, he merely told her that he would let her made that decision. It sort of left her at an impasse, yet Hermione overlooked it. Now she found herself needing to be assured just what she meant to Severus in his eyes. The idea of getting an answer that she wasn’t expecting made Hermione’s throat clench.

What if he told her that she was nothing more than a witch to merely pass the time with? The though was too much for Hermione to bear, and she hid in Harry’s bathroom for the better part of five minutes, crying into a damp hand towel.

"Hermione, you all right?" she heard Harry ask from the other side of the door. Inwardly chastising herself for not casting a Silencing Charm, Hermione wiped her face dry and attempted to stop her tears. "Are you crying?"

"No," she lied, clearling her throat to keep her voice from cracking. "I'll be out in a minute."

Pulling herself together, Hermione used a slight glamour on her face to cover up the blotchiness. Harry was still lingering outside of the bathroom, a suspicious look on his face. "You sure you're all right?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," Hermione fibbed, hoping that she sounded convincing enough. "I just had an early start today; I think I need to go back home and get some rest."

"You do that," Harry said, still frowning as he moved in for a hug.

Hermione distractedly returned the embrace, and told Harry goodbye. She then walked to the front room to retrieve her traveling cloak and Disapparated out of Grimmauld Place.
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Broken Dreams