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Triptych	By : SabineLaGrande Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 3500 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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The Living Ones

The castle was bigger than she remembered. She had heard
that childhood memories were supposed to grow and build themselves into grand
edifices, but somehow it hadn't happened. She had taken the Hogwarts Express up
from London with Remus, Professor
Vector, and the other professors who lived there during the summer.

And now here she was at the platform. Two black
coaches lead by Thestrals awaited them. Hermione and
Remus were alone in the second carriage. Remus stretched himself out and
regarded her intently.

"Youngest ever head of Gryffindor," he
said, eying her. "Without a bit of teaching experience
to your name. How'd you manage that one?

She shrugged.

"You know, I've asked myself the same
question," she replied. "Considering I've broken
every single rule on the books except the one about shagging in the prefects'
bathroom."

"My, what a lovely day it is today," he
said, pretending to be immensely interested in the lake.

"Drop the act, Remus."

"Why, don't I play it with such flair?"
he asked as he threw his hair over his shoulder in an exaggerated gesture. She
just laughed. He leaned over and kissed her gently on the forehead.

Minerva was waiting for the coaches at the castle
doors. The other professors were led to their rooms by house elves. Minerva
turned to her.

"Owing to your usual aversion to house elves,
Professor Granger, I thought I would show you to your chamber personally,"
the older woman said.

"I'm never going to live that one down, am
I?" Hermione asked.

"Not for some good many years, I should
suspect," Minerva replied, smiling at her.

She led Hermione to a statue of Merlin on the first
floor.

"Ice mice," she said to it. It swung
open. She motioned for Hermione to step through and followed her. Hermione
found herself in a small chamber with five doors. The two on the left bore the
crests of Slytherin and Ravenclaw;
the two on the right belonged to Hufflepuff and
Gryffindor. The door in the middle was crowned with an elaborately carved
lintel and bore the Hogwarts crest.

"These are the bedrooms of the various heads
of house," explained Minerva. "The one in the middle is mine."
She turned to the door to Hermione's room. Hermione noticed immediately that
there was no knob.

"Godric,"
Minerva said, and the door opened obligingly. They entered.

"I believe you'll find everything in
order," said Minerva briskly. She strode around the room briskly,
straightening things here and there. "The door to your room is enchanted.
If you merely open it, you will find yourself back in the hallway. However, if
you wish to go somewhere else, tap the door once with your wand and state the
location. To change the password, tap the door three times and state the new
one." She turned and smiled at Hermione. "We're having a little
informal get-together tonight in the faculty common room. The password is
`Fizzing Whizzbees,' and we'll be meeting around
five, then going to dinner from there. We hope you'll join us." She then
turned and tapped her wand on the door. "Headmistress's office," she
said clearly. Hermione could catch glimpses of the magnificent office when the
door opened. Minerva strode briskly in and the door closed behind her.

Hermione struggled to process all the information
she'd just been given. She felt like a first year again. She took her first
look around the room. The bed was an elaborate, canopied affair in rich red and
gold. The room was much more spacious than the tiny flat in which she'd lived
in London. She felt she was going
to like it there.

At that moment, she also felt something else: a
tingling first in her right foot, then in her left. She lay down quickly on the
bed and braced herself. She shook slightly as an ice cold wave hit her. The
relaxation and cheerfulness potions she had brewed for her journey both wore
off at exactly that moment. Cold realization took her slowly. She had come to
face her destiny, like it or not.

She woke up disoriented around 4:30. After a few moments, she realized that the
potions' effects had sent her into a slight doze. She got up and dressed,
forgoing her usual plain robes for ones of rich scarlet satin. She muttered a
smoothing charm for her hair, and at precisely five she stood in front of her
door. Hermione took a deep breath and tapped the door.

"Faculty common room," she said clearly.

She found herself standing before a portrait of a
bored-looking wizard in an Elizabethan ruff.

"Fizzing Whizzbees,"
she said politely. The portrait hole swung open. Most of the professors had yet
to arrive. Remus and Minerva were there, already chatting. Hermione made her
way farther into the room. Her breath caught in her throat.

He had sensed her presence as soon as she walked
in. He couldn't explain why; he just had an electric feeling now that she was
near. He hunched over his tea, afraid to face her. Why couldn't he just turn
around and look at her.

She had turned to engage Professor Sprout. He was
saved for the moment. He allowed himself a quick look. She was more beautiful
than he remembered. He was suddenly forgetful of himself.

His reputation as a loner served his purposes well.
He spent the rest of the gathering- he hated forced socialization anyway,
regardless of the company involved- brooding into his teacup, trying to muster
his courage. What could he say to her after all these years? After what was in
his estimation an eternity, a house elf entered, bowed low, and announced that
dinner was served. He waited a few moments, then
unfolded himself from his chair. He was at the rear of the group. He saw her
there in front of him, and steeled himself to act. He stepped purposefully
forward.

At precisely that moment, Professor Lupin took Hermione by the arm.

"Might I have the pleasure of escorting a
young lady to dinner?" he asked in a manner which Snape
found sickeningly debonair. That fucking werewolf had bested him again. He recoiled
and planned his next move.

The Great Hall was rather bare while the school
tapestries were out for their summer cleaning. The chairs on the dais, usually
arranged so that teachers could keep watch over the unruly mob of students, had
been rearranged for a quiet, intimate dinner. House elves seated the professors
at their predetermined seats. Hermione found herself seated across from
Professor Flitwick. The headmistress was to her
right, facing Remus. The seat on her left hand remained vacant. Suddenly, she
saw a rustle of black in the corner of her eye. She knew immediately who it
was.

Startled, she turned as she heard her name. Remus
was talking at her about something again. She feigned interest. She was glad
when their food appeared. Minerva made a short toast, and they began to eat.
She found, however, that she had little appetite. Professor Snape
had still not said a word to her. He was making small talk about the finer
points of Telescoping Potions with Professor Sinistra.
She watched him surreptitiously while eating. He was doing it again - just
sitting there chewing. She narrowed her eyes at the broccoli.

Severus Snape had come back to himself. He had no idea what had
come over him. He made a vow, and he wasn't about to let anyone break it. Still,
he thought around a bite of steak, it was silly. He should at least try to make
conversation with her. He should treat her professionally, just like any other
teacher.

She was still staring down her vegetables when he
spoke.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts, Professor
Granger," he said, almost smiling.

Work, brain! She shouted to herself. Speak!

"Thank you," she managed to stammer. Stupid
brain! Speak better!

He turned back to his steak. Well, that was one
thing accomplished. He almost felt proud of himself.

***

A week had passed since Hermione had returned to
Hogwarts. He hadn't said a word to her since the first night at dinner. He
wouldn't even look at her. She was lying on her back on the great bed during
dinnertime, staring fixedly at the ceiling.

Being back in his presence had made her like a
woman possessed. She wasn't eating. She often spent meal times wandering the
castle like a ghost. She found sleep with great difficulty, and only in her animagus form.

A kind of daze settled over her. She grabbed her
wand and walked over to the door. She tapped once.

"Severus's
office," she said a bit shakily.

He was standing in front of his ingredients cabinet
wondering if he needed more dittany when he heard the door slam. Someone
muttered an incantation, and he could hear the swish of a wand.

"Your locking charms have certainly
improved," he said without turning.

"You've been ignoring me," she said
unevenly. He swallowed hard. "You've been torturing me, Severus, and you know it."

He whipped around before she had time to think.

"Expelliarmus!"
he shouted, pointing his wand at her. "Accio wand!"

"Give me back my wand!" she yelled at him
as he locked it in the cabinet.

"I will do no such thing," he said,
turning back to her. "You are obviously distraught, as I will not have you
wrecking my office."

Defeated, she sank into a chair. She was tired, so
tired. He sat down across from her, though his heart quailed at being so near.
She had started to sob quietly. He drew a deep breath and looked into her eyes.

Memories started flying through her head. Snape finding
the note. The Yule Ball, for no good reason she could think of. Kissing Snape. Being
with Ron at the Burrow. She shuddered slightly as the visions receded.

He sighed deeply. He had always secretly feared it
would come to this. He took her lightly by the wrist and led her to the Pensieve that Dumbledore had given him. He touched his wand
to his temple and dropped a shining strand into the basin. She looked at him,
then into the Pensieve. He tried not to look at her,
staring out the window across the lake.

She looked up at him some minutes later with a look
of great sadness in her eyes. Without a word, he walked to the cabinet,
retrieved her wand, and handed it to her. She broke the charm on the door and
left. He replaced the memory from the Pensieve.

He cast himself down into his chair and rubbed his
temples slowly.

***

Severus stood in front of
her door later that night. He realized that he had cheated her. He had taken
all her secrets from her, but he had only shown her Calliope and her fate and
not his love for her.

She was lying on her bed in the fetal position when
she heard his voice outside the door.

"Godric," he
said, and the door swung obligingly open. She looked at him.

"How did you know my password?" she
asked.

"All the passwords are reset at the beginning
of each year, always to the same thing," he replied. "I surmised you
hadn't changed yours yet."

She stood and wrapped her robes around her. He
could tell she'd been crying.

"What are you doing here?" she sneered. "Haven't you seen enough already?"

A bit embarrassed, he sat down in her chair. He
realized that he could never tell her. It just wasn't in his power. And yet she
had to know. He sighed.

"You can perform Legilimency,
can you not?" he asked. She nodded. With extreme difficulty, he dropped
his guard. He braced himself.

"Try me," he said, focusing on her and
looking her deep in the eyes.

A strange warmth filled
him as he thought of her. He felt himself overcome with what he finally
realized was love. He came back to his senses and realized that she had thrown
herself on the bed again and was crying softly. He sat down next to her and
held her for a long time. At long last she spoke.

"All this time?" she questioned. He
nodded mutely. He started to explain, but the words left him.

He knew what he was supposed to do, what he was
expected to do. He was supposed to deny himself and go back to his cold room
alone.

He felt something stirring deep with him. He gave up
trying to fight it. Years of denial and repression were slowly slipping away
from him. Cowardly vows be damned. He had hid behind
them long enough. It was time to face himself, his fears, and his longing for
her. He stood up and removed his outer robes.

"What are you doing?" she asked him
through her tears.

"Something I should have done a long, long
time ago," he replied. He pulled her up to him and kissed her softly. He
brushed the tears from her face with incredible tenderness. She felt calmed and
restored in his embrace. The room went black, and for a long while she knew no
more.

***

She awoke alone in her big bed. She couldn't
understand why he could have left her like that. She had just resolved to hate
him forever when the door opened. Oblivious, he entered with a tray of food and
a pitcher of pumpkin juice.

"What happened?" she asked, immeasurably
relieved.

"You passed out," he said, putting the
tray down on her nightstand. "Going without food or
sleep with do that do a person. Now open up." He put a piece of
chocolate in her mouth. She accepted it without fighting and felt the warmth
flow into her limbs.

The house elves had failed to disappoint. She had
enough food for three people. She suddenly remembered how hungry she was. Severus poured her a glass of pumpkin juice, which she
gulped down. After nearly finishing the food, she dabbed the corners of her
mouth with her napkin.

He thought of a million things to say to her. All
of them died in his head. He sounded so coarse, so lacking, so very old. Words,
which had been his refuge for so long, failed him completely. He looked up and
saw her staring at him curiously. He looked away, abashed. She smiled sweetly.

She grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him on top
of her. He was surprised but kissed her, firmly and deeply this time, exploring
her mouth. Her hands found his hair and entwined themselves at the base of his
head. He found that he just couldn't restrain himself. He raised
up from her and undid the toggles on the front of her robes. He cast the robes
off the bed and made light work of her thin slip. Soon she was lying there
under him in nothing but her underwear. He marveled at the sight.

He knocked her hands away when they tried to divest
him of the black floor length inner robe that he wore even in summer.

"All in due time," he said and pressed
his mouth to hers. His hands were at long last free to wander over her
beautiful skin. He ran his fingertips lightly from her ear down across her
shoulder and across her collarbone. Hermione gasped slightly at his touch on
her bare skin. She reached behind her back and undid the clasps of her bra. He
lifted it off her and added it to the growing pile of mingled vestments.

His hand moved to her left breast. Working in
impossibly slow circles, it stubbornly avoided her nipple. Finally, he lightly
grazed over it with his palm. It sent electric shock waves down her spine. He
swirled his tongue around the hard rosebud. She moaned deeply. He repeated the
same torture on her right breast. It was no less intense a second time.

The slow antagonization
was getting to him almost as much as it was to her. He trailed off her breast
and kissed his way down her stomach. She put up her knees in a show of mock
defiance. He ran his hands over the outside of her thighs, then grasped knees
and spread them apart. He traced her thighs to where they joined her body and
ran his fingers down the crevice.

He couldn't stand it any longer. He had to taste
her. He grabbed her panties and pulled him off in one deft motion. She was
finally laid open to him.

He ran two fingers down her labia and licked the
warm juices from his fingers. She tasted heavenly. His fingers found her
clitoris and rubbed gently. She thrust her hips forward. He needed no further
invitation. He ran his tongue over her lips.

Colours. She was seeing colours. And she
was feeling- God, what wasn't she feeling? His tongue delved into her while his
fingers - no, wait, his fingers were there, that had to be his nose - worked her
sensitive nub. He switched positions, lapping at her clitoris while moving his
hand in and out of her. He increased his rhythm little by little. She knew she
couldn't last much longer. His hand moved faster inside her. She melted. She
moaned as the waves hit her.

He kept moving his hand while she finished, then
gently withdrew it. He lay down beside her and kissed her. She tasted herself
for the first time and found that it was not entirely unpleasant. Outside, a
hard rain had begun to fall.

"You do realize this changes everything,"
she said, addressing the canopy.

"I know," he replied, "and I don't
care." She studied him curiously.

"I never can read you," she said,
frustrated. "Just what is going on in that head of yours?" He looked
into her mind and found something he did not expect.

"I'm thinking they're going to kick me out of
the Society for Legilimency for what I'm about to
do," he said, reaching for his wand. Before she could question him, she
felt her wrists being sucked upward and secured to the headboard with magical
ropes. He performed a charm, and his robe flew off and neatly folded itself on
the chair. He was naked underneath. He positioned himself above her.

Hermione wondered, in the grand tradition of women
in her position, how it was ever going to fit. He poised himself at her
opening. She suddenly realized that she didn't care.

With one smooth motion, he sheathed himself.
Hermione felt as if she could die in that moment and be completely happy. When
he swirled his hips into her, she was forced to reappraise that decision. He
moved in and out of her slowly. His every move was met with her own upward
thrust. He increased his tempo. Her moaning turned to screaming that drove him
mad. He abandoned himself and thrust as quickly as he could.

Before long, he could feel her clenching around
him. She was screaming his name and struggling at her bonds. It was too much
for him, and he came long and hard.

"Finite Incantatum,"
he muttered breathlessly.

Soon, he was lying beside her, cradling her. Her
head rested on his chest, and he could feel her every breath as if it was his
own. The rain still poured around them.

"So what happens now?" she asked, with
confusion in her voice. He looked out the window.

"I don't know. I can't know," he replied.
Soon the golden dew of sleep fell upon them, and they slept that way long into
the morning.

"The pearl is the symbol of those souls who
remain trapped in the mud of the natural world. Imprisoned by their bodies and
their flesh, they somehow manage to remain spiritually alive. Cathars refer to these souls as the living ones." -
"The Living Ones", The Snow
Garden, Christopher Rice
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Triptych