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

Chapter List
- 25
- 26
Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

Matters of the Heart

K. Marie

Chapter 26

That morning, Hermione woke very, very groggy. Rubbing at her eyes, trying to force the sleep away, Hermione slowly sat up, a long yawn escaping her. Severus turned over to face her, his arm lying across her lap, and as he pulled her close to him, his lips planted kisses all along her hip.

His fingers crawled slowly up her side, the calloused roughness gently stroking the smooth, supple skin of the curve of her breast. The touch sent a shiver through Hermione, and as she looked down at her lover, she caught hint of the smile on his face that he had tried to conceal by burying his face in the flesh of her hip. Furtively, his fingers crept inwards until he was teasing her nipple, and she gasped.

"Severus! Really, you fiend!" she exclaimed, laughing.

As he sat up to meet her, he closed his lips upon hers, forcing her back against the pillow. His hand was still at her breast, his rough fingers playing with the sensitive nub there. Her fingers gently tangled in his hair, holding him to her as she kissed him deeply.

"I, for one, cannot think of a better way to spend a Sunday," he growled as he abandoned her lips for the soft skin of her neck.

His fingers left her breast, creeping down to the soft skin of her stomach. She sighed as his lips ravaged her throat, his hand slowly crawling to the soft triangle of curls between her legs. His fingers combed through the mass of hair there, down to the warm wetness that emanated from between her legs.

"I'd have to agree with you, Severus," she whispered into his ear as he kissed her shoulders.

"I will of course, have to deliver Professor Sprout's tonic" – with each pause, he placed a kiss on her body – "but that can certainly wait until I tend to the more… crucial tasks of my Sunday."

Hermione giggled as he kissed a trail from her lips to her core, his fingers gently gliding down her sides, almost too light to be comfortable, but not light enough to tickle her. As his mouth closed upon her most sensitive parts, she released a quiet moan, her legs falling open to allow him greater access.

Her entire body was responding to him as he lavished the taste and smell of the heat between her legs. Arching her back, Hermione combed her fingers in the hair of her lover, her nails gently scratching his scalp as she released an intensely pleasured moan. Her thighs quivered about his head as he lapped at her. The sweat squeezing its way onto her skin, the blood coursing through her veins – in that moment, her entire body was listening to him.

Severus slid his fingers into her wetness, gently probing in and out of her. He could feel her tightness spasm around his fingers as he suckled her sensitive nub, his hardened manhood twitching in response. As Hermione called out his name in release, her legs closed around him tightly, holding his face to her, and he continued pleasuring her until she could take no more.

"Hermione," he growled in a tone so low it caused her entire body to shiver in response. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, kissing her shoulders and collarbones tenderly. She let her legs fall open to surround him, her hand guiding his hardness to her entrance.

"Severus," she said softly, kissing his face as he pulled back to look at her. There was warmth in his eyes that had only ever existed for one other before her. Gazing into the darkness of his eyes, she gently combed her fingers through his hair, her fingers playing along the rim of his ear.

He plunged his length into her, dipping his face down next to her ear as he thrust within her. He kissed her cheek, his force moving her body in rhythm with his, the warmth surrounding him clenching tighter with each subsequent push into her.

"You will never know just how much you mean to me," he whispered into her ear, a pleasured groan escaping him as he moved within her.

As he climaxed, she grasped at his body almost desperately, pulling him closer to her. When he pulled back to look at her face, her cheeks pinked with passion, her eyes warm with love, she smiled. He snaked his arms around her back, pulling her to him as he rolled to his side. She lay in his embrace, her legs tangled with his, breathing in the scent of his sweat, of their sex, and dreaded the moment she would have to leave his arms.

They laid there for awhile, never giving any concern to the passage of time on the lazy Sunday morning. Severus knew eventually they would have to rise, they would have to bathe – but for now, he was perfectly content resting with her in his arms.

Lying there, he wondered fleetingly, if Lily would have felt this perfect in his arms, if she would have felt so blissful surrounding him, if her lips would have tasted as sweet. He thought perhaps not; maybe Hermione would be the only woman to ever fit his embrace so well. Perhaps all the years he spent pining for Lily's love, and ultimately mourning her death… perhaps they were all in vain.

Squeezing her tight to him, Severus dismissed his thoughts of another and focused on the beautiful woman lying beside him. He had no right to think of another while she was in his embrace. She deserved better than that…

She deserves better than me. He thought bitterly, his face nestled in the mass of her hair.

Later that afternoon, after Hermione and Severus had showered and readied themselves for the remainder of the day, Severus delivered Pomona's fertilizer to her. The herbologist thanked him profusely, though he noticed the glimmer of disappointment in her eyes when she noticed he was not stained green.

Waving off her graciousness, he said coldly, "I expect to receive no opposition when I make requests for some of your herbs, Pomona."

"Of course, Severus," she replied hurriedly, though he knew better. She always had some arbitrary requirement when it came to harvesting from her greenhouses, and usually she insisted to do it herself.

Turning from her, Severus began the trip back to his dungeons. His young lover would not be there waiting for him, and it disheartened him only slightly; she told him she was going to spend her day with her friends, and not wishing to burden their friendship any further, he bid her good day.

He almost welcomed the quiet reprieve, though it ached to be away from her. He had not had much time to himself in recent weeks, and truth be told, it was beginning to wear on the Potions Master. His time had been consumed by her and by his work, and with little time for him to think on much of anything at all.

Severus pushed open the door to his office, relieved to find his desk clear (as though he expected it some way other than how he had left it) and the room empty. Dropping into his chair, he leaned back against it, stretching his legs beneath his desk. The wood was cool beneath his hands.

The room was eerily silent except for the ticking of a clock and his own even breathing. He let his eyes close, basking in the emptiness. There were so many things that happened in recent days that Severus had no time to give honest, full contemplation.

Hermione had finally answered his proposal. He had no idea that such a simple, single-syllable word could be so beautiful, and yet, when she whispered her answer, he felt as though his heart would swell to bursting. And in the hours following, all he could do was bask in the blissful beauty of their love, enjoying her body entirely and completely.

And then, he suddenly realized that even despite her unconditional love, her willingness to devote her entire life to him, he still thought of Lily. His thoughts still lingered on the woman who possessed his heart for nearly thirty years, his unrequited love for her that nearly destroyed him. He had never known what it was to be loved so completely, and yet, as Hermione showed him just what it was to be cherished, he still could not rid his thoughts of Lily.

With horror, Severus had realized that he did not deserve Hermione's hand in marriage. He did not deserve her love, her dedication; certainly not while his thoughts, his heart, still lingered on a woman who had been dead for nearly as long as Hermione had been alive.

Flexing his fingers on the arms of his chair, Severus sighed. How could he have allowed himself to act so selfishly? He had been so hesitant in the past to open himself to her, for fear of drawing her closer. He knew her love for him would eventually devastate her, if not kill her. And then, in an act of pure selfishness, complete weakness, he asked for her hand in marriage. And the girl agreed! How could she be so foolish? How could she trust that he could love her completely, when his entire life had been dedicated to another woman's legacy?

Fleetingly, he wondered, if perhaps he honestly believed that by marrying Hermione, he would forget he ever loved another woman. If her hand in marriage would cure him of the unrequited love he held for another. It did not matter that he loved Hermione completely, that he loved her the way he had loved Lily – because his love for Lily persisted.

And as if his own inner turmoil was not enough, he was also plagued by that wretched family, the Malfoys. He knew without a doubt that they were scheming; their behaviors were far too suspicious otherwise. Why would their interests lie only in outing Severus to the Headmaster? Surely, if their intention was to have the Potions Master ousted from Hogwarts, they would have told as many people as possible about his relationship with a student. And yet, it seemed, only Draco Malfoy was the only student to know. What was their intention, he wondered?

Leaning forward on his desk, Severus held his head in his hands. He had been so distracted with the events of recent that he had almost forgotten about the pilferage of his stores. Almost. The perpetrator had not yet been found and Dumbledore had not come to him since Christmas Eve, which led Severus to believe he had no more information than he. But with other such pressing matters, the thievery no longer concerned him. If a student wished to destroy their own life by getting pregnant, than that was their mistake to make, and he would not worry himself with it.

Rubbing his eyes, Severus opened a drawer to his desk and removed some parchment. Dipping his quill in ink, he began the first draft of the upcoming seventh year exam.

For most of the afternoon, Hermione was tutoring Ron and Harry with their homework. They had some essays due for Transfiguration and Charms, and while Hermione had finished the work what seemed like weeks ago, the two boys had, as always, procrastinated to the last minute.

When they had finished their research and had begun the actual task of compiling their essay, Hermione had excused herself. Standing from the floor, she flattened out the creases in her pants, waving farewell to her friends as she turned towards the portrait hole.

"Where ya headed, 'Mione?" Ron asked her as she moved away from them.

She turned towards him, smiling. "I need to talk with Professor Dumbledore."

Harry and Ron exchanged interested glances, but neither pressed further. Hermione had been quite secretive as of late and neither boy was interested in rejection if they queried her further, and so they let her go.

As she stepped through the portrait hole, she breathed deeply, willing the butterflies in her stomach away. Her mind was plagued with questions that she knew Severus was not ready to answer. She wasn't sure if Professor Dumbledore would be so willing to answer her questions either, but she had to ask. She had to know.

She began a brisk pace to the Headmaster's office, and as she approached the gargoyle statue, she realized grimly she did not know the password to enter. Staring at the ugly creature, she thought hard. Harry had mentioned the password always seemed to be some form of Muggle sweet, but with such a diverse subject to choose from, she would be there forever guessing!

She stared intently at the statue, her brow furrowed, a wrinkle pressing itself into the smooth skin of her forehead. Crossing her arms, she began reciting different kinds of Muggle candies, but to no avail. The statue did not budge.

"Miss Granger," the voice from behind her startled her violently, and as Hermione turned quickly, she was surprised to find her lover standing close.

"Oh! Professor Snape," Hermione gasped.

He considered her for a long while before speaking. She was fidgeting under his gaze, her cheeks reddening in his presence, and as she looked up at him, her eyes were warm, but there was something else there, too. Uncertainty, it seemed.

"What, pray tell, brings you to this part of the castle on such a lovely day?" his voice was oily, icy, but Hermione couldn't help but blush furiously, considering a good portion of the 'lovely day' was spent nestled in the Potions Master's bed, his body pressed between her legs.

"Erm… well, I – I needed to speak with Professor Dumbledore," she said slowly, her eyes fixed on his.

"Why, then, are you loitering in the hallway outside his office?"

"I don't know the password, sir," she replied, her voice cracking in her embarrassment.

His lips curled into a sneer, and tearing his gaze from her pretty face, he looked to the statue. "Ah, yes. His obsession with Muggle sweets is rather absurd, if you ask me."

"Well, Severus," the Headmaster's voice came from behind them, and both turned to look at him. "In fact, nobody asked you, did they?" His voice was anything but harsh, a twinkling in the pale blue of his eyes. "To what do I owe this honor, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked cautiously at Severus, who had been watching the Headmaster as he spoke. Turning her gaze on Dumbledore, Hermione said slowly, "Well, sir, I was hoping I could talk to you." She paused, her eyes flickering to Severus. "Privately."

Snape suddenly felt the bile rise in his throat. What on Earth could she be requesting private counsel for? Panic seemed to crush his chest, his mind whirling with the possibilities. She must have realized her mistake; she must be informing Dumbledore that he had in fact raped her, and he needed to be removed from Hogwarts.

Relax. Straightening his shoulders, Severus nodded curtly to the both of them, and turned on his heel. As he crept down the hallway, his robes billowed about his feet.

"Ah, yes, Miss Granger. Do follow me!" as Dumbledore turned towards the gargoyle, it leapt from his path without an uttered word. Hermione faltered just a moment in following him, staring at the statue in frustrated awe. "Come now, Miss Granger, lest he block your path once more!"

Hermione quickly clambered up the stairs after the Headmaster, reaching the top only a few seconds after him. As he rounded on his desk, he held a dish of candy to her, which she politely declined. Taking a seat across from him, she folded her hands in her lap, her heart fluttering in her chest like a hummingbird.

"What did you want to discuss, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked, leaning onto his elbows.

"Well, sir," Hermione began. Suddenly, she felt very awkward having this discussion with the Headmaster, after having spent so much effort concealing from him the very thing she was about to talk to him about. Looking from his face to her hands and back again, she tried to formulate a sentence that was mature and rational. "Sir, I was wondering if you could tell me…" How should she put this? Was this betraying Severus' trust by going outside of their trusted relationship to another source for information about him?

Dumbledore steepled his fingers in front of him, considering her over his spectacles. Her hesitancy to speak was not lost on him, and as he watched her struggle for the words, he smiled. "You wish to know something of Severus, yes?"

Hermione's eyes widened. Quickly, she nodded. "Well, yes. He… he doesn't like to talk about this… and… well, I…"

"Is this about Lily Potter?"

Hermione's eyebrows seemed to rise higher and higher on her forehead as the conversation progressed. She nodded again, this time with much more vigor. "Yes, sir."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, studying her closely. "This is a conversation you should be having with Severus, not with me."

"I know, but he doesn't like to talk about it. I don't know why," she shook her head, frowning. "But he… he gets scary, sometimes, when he thinks about her."

A small chuckle escaped the Headmaster, and as he looked at the young woman across from him, he said, "There is very little I can tell you about this, Miss Granger. It is a conversation you must have with Severus, as it is Severus' story to tell."

Hermione nodded curtly, picking at her nails. "Yes, sir."

For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Hermione had so many questions to ask, and she didn't know where to begin. "I'm just afraid, sir. I'm afraid that… he will always love her."

Dumbledore nodded. "Oh, yes. Of course he will. Why does that matter, Miss Granger?"

"How can he possibly love anyone else?" Hermione was shocked to hear those words escape her. Severus had been nothing but loving to her, his every action a small gesture of his love. How could she have doubted that? How could she not have known?

A smile crept across the ancient wizard's face, and as he leaned forward in his chair, he released a quiet laugh. "Ah. Miss Granger, for a brief second, I wondered the same. When he had confessed to me that he loved you, my first thought was that he had loved Lily for so long, how could it be?" Dumbledore shook his head. "And then I realized, though Severus will always love Lily, it does not mean he will never love you."

Shifting her weight in her chair, Hermione breathed a heavy sigh.

"Why do you seem so distressed, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked.

"I just… I don't understand, sir," she said slowly, carefully examining her hands to avoid looking at his face.

"If there is one thing that I am absolutely certain of when it comes to Severus Snape," Dumbledore began, smiling at her, "is that he is an intensely dedicated man. He is capable of loving more than most wizards. He has risked life and limb for the mere memory of a woman. Just because he has loved another woman for many, many years – and just because he will, in all likelihood, continue loving her until his final day – that does not mean he does not love anyone else, Miss Granger.

"When I spoke with him that morning I discovered you sneaking out of his rooms" – and at this, Hermione blushed intensely, tucking her chin to her chest to prevent Dumbledore from witnessing the violent flush of her cheeks – "I saw in him something I never thought I would see again. Miss Granger, Severus loves you deeply. I think he loves you so much that he is confused himself, and I think he will continue to torture himself about loving Lily while he feels he should be completely dedicated to you for the rest of his days.

"He is as conflicted as you, Miss Granger. He does not understand why his love for Lily continues, despite his commitment to you. He loves you so completely, Miss Granger, of this I am certain. But his love for Lily… He will continue loving her for many years, if not until the day he dies. But I can guarantee you something, Miss Granger: he will love you just the same.

"Severus Snape is not one to bear his emotions so openly. To wear one's heart on his sleeve, to Severus, is a sign of weakness, of foolishness – and it is not something he does. But with you, Miss Granger… with you, it is different. He is willing to open himself to you, to make himself vulnerable to you, even though he knows what it is to lose one who you love so dearly. He knows that heartache all too well, and he has calloused himself to it to prevent having to experience it once more.

"But with you, Miss Granger, he recognized something. With you, he realized that perhaps it was worth making oneself vulnerable for the sake of knowing what it is to be loved. His unrequited love for Lily never gifted to him that, and she was a woman who had broken his heart many times. Her death was nearly the destruction of poor Severus. He had blamed himself for many, many years for her murder. I suspect he fears the same for you, and once more, he is conflicted – he loves you dearly, Miss Granger. And he does not know if that intense love should be forbidden to protect you, or celebrated.

"I suspect he feels selfish because he wishes to celebrate such love. I suspect he fears that your life may tragically end, as Lily's did, because of him. Whether or not it was his fault is irrelevant to Severus – he will blame himself regardless and he does not know how to handle such a thing. He is severely conflicted about you, Miss Granger. He is not used to having so many unanswered questions, even more so when the questions have no answers at all."

Hermione's eyes began burning with tears as she stared at her hands in her lap. Clenching them closed, she breathed in a shaky sigh. There was a whisper of fabric, and suddenly Dumbledore was by her side, his ancient, bony hand grasping her shoulder tightly.

"I can see that you love him very dearly, Miss Granger," the Headmaster said, quietly. "I am beginning to see why I allowed this to continue, though when I permitted it, I was acting only on a hunch." As Hermione looked up at him, his pale blue eyes were twinkling kindly. "Severus has needed someone like you, Miss Granger. He has needed you for a painfully long time."

She could hold back her tears no longer, and they began to pour down her cheeks. Dumbledore's hand rested firmly on her shoulder, squeezing reassuringly, as she wept quietly in his office.

"He is very lucky, Miss Granger," the Headmaster said. "And I suspect he knows it."

As she brushed the tears from her cheeks, Hermione couldn't help but smile. "I'm very lucky, too, Professor."

"Why, yes, you are, indeed."

It had taken Severus a long while to calm his nerves. He knew it was ludicrous to assume that Hermione would have reported him after so long, especially after they had gone to such painstaking measures to prevent the Headmaster from knowing the truth of the root of their relationship. But even so, he couldn't help but suspect the worst. Which, he knew, was also absolute madness – she had just committed her life to the man!

He had decided the best way to ease his mind was to distract himself, and so he had continued writing the seventh year's exam. He couldn't help the turmoil that was his churning stomach, and if he had any inclination to eat at all, it was extinguished by his apprehension. Hermione was very much in love with him, a fact he reminded himself of very often. She would do nothing to jeopardize their relationship, which he knew also to be fact.

Then why had she requested a private meeting with the Headmaster? His mind kept turning over the possibilities, despite his attempts to suppress its activity with work. As the afternoon became evening, with no sign of Hermione – his fiancé, he tried to remind himself, for why would she accept his proposal and then report his crime? – his foreboding feeling only worsened.

As Hermione hurried to Severus' classroom, she couldn't help but feel inflated with joy. While none of her original questions had actually been asked, Professor Dumbledore had eased all of her anxieties. She realized that Severus' history with Lily only mattered to her if he wished to tell her of it – and only then. Otherwise, she was quite content to love him and be loved by him, and romantically, for a moment, she thought perhaps that he was all she needed in her life.

She passed through the classroom and to his office, where she knocked quietly on the door before entering. Severus was behind his desk, bent over a piece of parchment. She took a seat in the chair across from him and waited patiently until he acknowledged her presence.

"Hermione," he said gruffly, peering up at her.

"Severus," she replied, smiling.

The smile that she wore for him soothed his anxiety immensely. He had been growing irritable as he waited for her to return to him, and as soon as she entered, he could feel the atmosphere of the room lift tremendously. She leaned across the desk and kissed him.

"I suppose you're wondering why I wanted to talk to Professor Dumbledore," Hermione began.

Severus set his quill in its well and leaned back in his chair. He knew he did not need to answer the question, and so he didn't; Hermione continued.

"Severus, I had concerns," she whispered quietly. "About Lily."

His expression changed, and Hermione could not tell if he was horrified that she would ask someone else about such a personal topic, or angered. Her voice wavered as she spoke, quickly:

"Please don't be angry, Severus. I had to know, I had to know if you could really love me as much as you would if you didn't love anyone else." She lowered her gaze to her lap as she began picking at her nails. "I didn't know. But… Professor Dumbledore reassured me."

"What did he tell you?" Severus asked, leaning on his desk, his voice quiet, dangerous.

Hermione's eyes widened as she realized he was growing angry the more she spoke. "H-he didn't tell me anything, really. He told me that he didn't think, right away, that you could love anyone else but her, but then he realized that you could! That you were an intensely dedicated man, and that to be loved by you made me very lucky!"

Severus' shoulders were tense as he rested all of his weight on the top of his desk. Hermione kept a watchful eye on him, the subtle tremor in his hands the only sign that he was growing at all emotional.

"Severus, I'm sorry," she whispered. "I had to know."

"Then you should have come to me," he hissed.

"You never wanted to talk about it!"

Suddenly, Severus stood abruptly, and with a wave of his wand the air of the room felt heavier. He set his wand on the surface of his desk and began pacing, his lips paling in his anger, a vein pulsing violently at his temple.

"You had no right, Hermione!" he exclaimed, turning on her suddenly. "You had no right to talk to anyone about that but me!"

"Severus," Hermione stood quickly, her hands reaching out to him. "You never wanted to talk about it. You asked that I not push. I needed to know! Severus, I had just committed to you the rest of my life, and I had so many questions that you weren't willing to answer! I had every right to know!"

He turned from her, grasping the edges of a cabinet behind him. His grip was so firm his knuckles were almost translucent. He knew she was right, but the betrayal he felt in that moment challenged his logic. She absolutely had every right to know, but she had spoken with someone else about matters that only concerned him!

Hermione's stomach clenched as she moved around the desk to be near him. "Severus, I love you," she whispered quietly. "I love you more than I ever thought possible." She rested her hand on his tense forearm, straining to look into his face. His head was tipped forward, the curtains of black hair concealing his face from her. "I had to know if you could love me just the same."

He turned towards her. "Of course I can," his voice was low. "And that is what frightens me."

Severus grabbed hold of her wrists, thrusting her towards him. She whimpered under his strong grip, the intensity of his grasp painful. He stared into her eyes, his mouth opened just slightly as though he was going to speak, but no words escaped him. Her amber eyes were glossy and red, widened in her fear, but as she stared into the fathomless depths of his, she recognized something there.

"I do not know what I would do if I had to experience that loss again," he said. "But for you, I feel as though the risk is worth taking."

He loosened his grip on her wrists, leaning down to her to kiss her deeply. His arms snaked around her back, holding her close to him, and briefly, he wished he never had to let her go.
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Matters of the Heart