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The Headmaster's Wife	By : Mrs_HH Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 96906 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 23
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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It started with a...?
After speaking with Hermione, Severus remained in his quarters, for the rest of the afternoon, contemplating the situation with a bottle of firewhisky. Still shocked that there appeared to be some kind of mutual attraction, he sat contemplating how he would go about courting his curly haired saviour when the time came. This, however, was easier said than done because in truth, Severus had never really gone past the first date, one night stand and mutually convenient shag stage.
However, the more he immersed himself in his alcoholic crutch, the more it began trying to trip him up. By his fifth glass, he wondered if there was any point in trying to court the witch. He was sure his feelings transcended this damnable bond, but he was becoming more convinced that her responses were wholly controlled by it. By his seventh glass, in his mind, Hermione could not possibly care for him willingly―romantically, at least. After all, what did he have to offer her that Draco or Weasley couldn't?
He knew she was seeing the Weasley boy, but Severus was sure the relationship was doomed to fail now that the redhead had every dimwitted witch in the country swooning over his prowess as a Quidditch player. In fact, as Severus took another sip of warming amber liquid, he smirked as he realised that the boy was no threat whatsoever.
But Draco had a growing devotion to Hermione. His godson was not unintelligent, and was heir to one of the richest wizarding families. If he set his sights on her, he could steal his witch away. Draco could make Hermione happy. Then again, Severus thought smugly, Draco wasn't as powerful or as wealthy as he was, and, unlike Draco, his wealth meant little to him. That would appeal to Hermione. Admittedly, Draco was eighteen, and he was thirty-eight, but Severus could ignore that fact if he wanted to. And given what he'd seen of her sexually charged thoughts, the raven-haired wizard was sure that she needed a man in her bed rather than a boy.
The headmaster chuckled into his glass. Actually, I don't know why I'm worried.
But of course he knew that all of that was just male bravado and of little consequence to Hermione. As far as Severus was concerned, there was one very good reason why Miss Granger would never be with him, and that was because she wouldn't be able to forgive his past. Lily couldn't forgive him for a few words―which were admittedly hurtful even though they were not intended―and for taking the Dark Mark. That was twenty years ago. When he thought of all the things he'd done in the service of the Dark Lord and Dumbledore since then, he wanted to vomit. No, he wasn't worthy enough to be in the same room as her. If he were lucky, he might be able to tempt her into a very satisfying tumble between the sheets, but he couldn't torture either of them like that. He couldn't let her regret her actions; she deserved better than that―than him. And if he couldn't have all of her, then he didn't want her at all.
It was then that Severus made yet another selfless decision. He wanted this bond broken, and he wanted it broken now so that she would not have to endure his depraved attentions any longer.
He drained his glass, and, standing shakily, walked into his bedroom. Reaching the bedside table, he opened the drawer and picked up an ordinary wooden picture frame containing a photo of his sixteen year old self with a beautiful red-haired witch. He was brushing her hair over her shoulder, and it was the last time he had been truly happy. If ever he needed a better reason as to why he could not be with Hermione, this image represented it.
Gently running his finger over her face, Lily smiled up at him. When this picture was taken, she was his witch because three days earlier he had enacted the somewhat archaic wizarding tradition of claiming her. Of course there had been other women―both witch and Muggle―in his bed since Lily, but he'd never desired to claim them.
Totally unbidden, the drunken wizard's tears began to fall. Despite his happiness in this photograph, two days later he called her a Mudblood and his life descended even further into the hell that he was only now clawing his way out of. He collapsed onto the floor clutching the frame to his chest. Severus was aware of the man he had become―no matter how people lauded him―and he knew that he couldn't tarnish Hermione with his presence. He knew he couldn't be the man, or wizard, that she needed or deserved, and they had to be released from each other.
"I can't be with her, Lily,” he whispered, his voice harsh and laced with frustration and hurt. “She'd never accept me anyway, so I have to stop torturing myself with these stupid, selfish―”
His words trailed off as the glowing orb which had earlier penetrated his chest rose out of his body and hung before him. Suddenly it expanded, and Severus found himself floating above the floor before being propelled backwards against the wall. He felt his breath being crushed from his chest, and his words were choked in his throat as he tried to Summon his wand. Even his attempts to Summon non-verbally failed as he teetered on the verge of consciousness.
The world fell into monochrome as the invisible force crushed the life from him. He was vaguely aware that the picture frame slipped from his fingers, and smashed onto the floor, when a soft voice―Lily's voice―trickled into his mind.
Sev, self-deprecation doesn't suit you, the voice giggled in the redhead's all too familiar way. You have to move on from me―forget about what happened with me―and be with her. Don't listen to yourself. You always thought too much. Don't continue to deny that you love her. You are meant to be together.
What you have to realise, Sev, is that this bond isn't really about you and her. The bond is a force for the greater good, but it will make you suffer until you realise that one simple act will bring you and this world peace. I loved you Severus Tobias Snape; don't let me be the only one.
Any hope that Severus had of being released disappeared when he was thrown against the opposite wall, before being thrown so hard against his bedroom door, that it smashed to pieces. He was then dragged into the living room by unseen hands before being tossed over the sofa, landing spread-eagled on the table behind it.
The headmaster tried to get up, but found himself being pulled off the table by his ankle, and levitated upside down.
Oh bollocks, I knew this one would come back to haunt me, he thought before being dropped, head first, onto the stone floor. The last thought he had before unconsciousness claimed him was―

Hermione had called Draco after her conversation with Severus, and persuaded―or rather nagged―him into taking her shopping. She'd been told to keep busy, so she was. And besides Draco had offered to take her dress shopping for the Ministry Ball this week, so why not go at the start of the week? She'd even managed to cajole Draco to visit Muggle London where, surprisingly, he took great delight in some of the latest men's fashions. In the end, they did as much shopping for him as Hermione did for herself.
Whilst Severus was sat getting drunk, they went to a small Muggle café that Hermione used to frequent with her parents near The Leaky Cauldron. It was here that she mentioned to Draco that was going to break things off with Ron.
"I hardly see him,” she explained, “and, besides, I have the feeling he's not putting up much of a fight with some of those girls who fling themselves at him after matches. George says that some fans send Ron their knickers, and he keeps them in a box under his bed at The Burrow."
"Lucky boy. I've obviously missed my calling," Draco groused playfully before laughing as Hermione rolled her eyes at him.
Hermione loved hearing Draco laugh so freely. It finally seemed that he was starting to put his past behind him, and move on.
After taking a sip of coffee, the blond wizard leaned over to the witch beside him, and asked in a conspiratorial tone, "So, has 'Mione thought about whom she would like to replace The Weasel? Who is the lucky man to be, I wonder?"
"I have someone in mind," Hermione admitted before sighing deeply, "but he's a lot older than me, and...well it's complicated. Besides, I bet he only has to snap his fingers now, and he's got witches falling at his feet."
"Why do you always think that every man you are interested in has other women falling at their feet? Are they that amazing? I mean, I don't see many witches lying on the floor here, and I'm amazing!" Draco quipped.
"Oh shut up Drakey! And anyway, do you really want witches falling at your feet?" Hermione asked knowingly. She'd had a few suspicions about Draco for a while, but, given his current emotional turmoil, she hadn't raised the subject, assuming that he would mention it when he was ready.
"Actually, I wouldn't mind witches or wizards falling at my feet," he admitted, blushing profusely.
"So you're a 'best of both worlds' kind of guy, then?" Hermione giggled as she leant over and kissed his cheek. The brash, arrogant boy that was Draco Lucius Malfoy still existed, but she'd begun to see a much more sensitive side of the Malfoy heir that she found utterly endearing.
"Alright!” Draco exclaimed, “Don't tell Father, but I have a boyfriend.”
Hermione didn't say a word, but watched her newfound friend taking a sip of his coffee, before placing the cup carefully on the table. He took a deep breath, bit his bottom lip, and said, “He's a...well he's...he's a Muggle, and his name is Adrian."
Draco looked at the curly-haired witch sheepishly, anxiously awaiting the barrage of sarcastic comments that he was expecting. However, they did not arrive.
Instead, Hermione simply asked, "Does Adrian know that you're―?"
"―Yes, he knows I'm a wizard,” Draco interjected. “He's taken it really well. He even wants to meet everyone. I'm quite excited," he beamed as Hermione grabbed his hand. "I want to take him to Hogwarts; show him our world, but I need to speak to Uncle Sev first. I don't know how he'll react. Then again, I don't actually care. Father's reaction is the one that worries me the most."
Hermione sighed and shook her head in amazement at the wizard before her. She was so glad that Draco had found someone to care about, but had to admit that she was shocked that, although she knew Lucius has mellowed somewhat, Draco was even risking being with a Muggle. "How have you managed to keep this secret?"
Draco shrugged. "Simple, everyone thinks I'm on the verge of bedding you."
Hermione's mouth and eyes opened wide in shock.
"Oh, don't look at me like that. I haven't been using you,” Draco huffed. “They know we see each other a lot, and they just assume that we see each other more often than we do. Can you keep this quiet until I've spoken to Uncle?"
"Of course I can,” Hermione told him sincerely, squeezing his hand. “And I'm sure your Uncle will be fine about it. From what I've heard from Professor McGonagall, he seems much more relaxed these days.”
She then bit her bottom lip, and said quietly, “Actually, I'm going to see him tomorrow for afternoon tea."
Draco could tell by the tone of her voice, her bashful smile, and her now-pink cheeks, that she was looking forward to it. In fact, whenever she mentioned his godfather, it was with the same tone, the same bashful smile, and the same blush on her cheeks. Whenever she mentioned his godfather in the privacy of her bedroom at Malfoy Manor, more screaming was involved.
Draco gave her a knowing look. "Really?"
Hermione's blush deepened.
"Now, let me see,” Malfoy teased, “you're interested in an older wizard, and you're having afternoon tea with an older wizard tomorrow.”
He tapped his forefinger on his chin, pretending to ponder the situation before he went in for the killer blow. "Oh, and of course, when you I came up to bring you a cup of tea yesterday morning, you were were moaning like a minx, and I distinctly heard a name. Now what was it? Oh, it'll come to me. Hang on...oh I know...it was Severus."
Hermione's mouth fell open once again. "I can't believe you've known all this time and not said anything. You are such a bastard! Alright, I admit it, I do have a teeny weeny crush on him.”
“Teeny weeny?” Draco snorted. “Hermione, love, if that's a teeny weeny crush, then I'd hate to think what you'll get up to when you really fall for someone.”
Hermione could feel her ears burning up as the blush spread across her face. “Alright, so it's more than a teeny weeny crush, but do you think he could ever...you know?"
"What? Fancy you?" Draco enquired.
The brunette nodded.
"Are you daft? Of course! We were never sure, but we Slytherins were given free reign to do whatever we wanted to Potter and The Weasel―short of killing them―but you, especially after the Yule Ball, were off limits. He took so many points off me because of you,” Draco chuckled. “The thing was, he hid it behind being the consummate Slytherin, and a chivalrous fool. You were potentially a useful witch to know. You see, despite being a half-blood, he's always respected the old wizarding traditions―one of which is to treat witches, especially those we hold in high regard, with respect. He and Father are a dying breed, I think. But, he never took points from us if we disrespected other witches from outside the House.”
Hermione shrugged. “Perhaps he thought they deserved what you gave them.”
“Well, maybe. But seriously,” Draco said taking Hermione's hand, "he does ask about you, and he certainly isn't unfeeling towards you. You saved the man's life, for Merlin's sake, and that defence of yours moved him. I don't know what his feelings are exactly, but one thing's for sure, if he does want you, he won't make the first move. You'll probably have to go into his office with nothing on but your naughtiest underwear, and present yourself over his desk. And should you decide to do that, let me know so that I can come and watch."
Hermione slapped her friend's arm. "Oh stop it!"
"Do that again. I quite liked it," Draco teased, which led to an even harder slap on the arm that nearly knocked him off his chair. When he straightened back up, both witch and wizard fell about laughing.
"Come on Auntie Hermione," the steely eyed man joked, "let's go home so you can try that dress on again. Are you staying at ours tonight? And, more importantly, will you ask Uncle Sev to go to the Ball with you?"
"Do you really think he'll go? He always seemed to hate that sort of thing," Hermione sighed, resigned to the fact that she would be going alone since she was about to split with up Ron.
"Well, as I seem to recall, he didn't like the idea of going to functions like that, but he certainly enjoyed the last few balls we had at school," Draco told her knowingly.
"Don't tell me he was staring at me,” Hermione said sceptically, and when Draco nodded she snorted, she shook her head, and told him, “You are such a liar."
Draco gasped. "I am not! Severus Snape is a master at wearing emotional masks. You'd never know what he was thinking, but his eyes were definitely following you. But, as I said, he'll never admit it. And you didn't answer my question; will you be staying at the Manor tonight?"
"OK, but only if there is any of your father's chocolate cake left,” Hermione giggled. “Who knew he could bake!"
"Father is a man of many talents. But if you like Father's baking efforts, you will be pleased to know that Uncle Sev's cakes are even better. It's the potions training, I guess.”
“What?”
Draco laughed. “It's a long story; goes back to the first war, but I'm not too sure of the details. I'm sure one of them will tell you if you ask. Can you bake?"
"I can, but I've not made a cake for years,” Hermione told her friend. “Now, I prefer to eat them! I just can't imagine those two baking.”
"Well, they don't do it all the time, but rest assured, my love,” Draco informed her, gathering up their shopping bags before lowering his voice to imitate the two older wizards, “they do it in a very manly way!"
"I should hope so, but I can't get the image of them wearing frilly aprons out of my head," she sniggered before they both started laughing, and Draco stood to pay.

Hermione was in her bedroom at Malfoy Manor, trying on her new clothes.
Although she lived with Harry at Grimmauld Place, Lucius, seeing the positive influence that the witch was having on his son, insisted that Hermione have her own rooms for when she decided to stay over. At first, Hermione was reluctant to accept his offer. Lucius Malfoy was, after all, Lucius Malfoy. He may have defected at the end of the war, but everyone knew he was capable of slithering his way out of any hole.
Another reason for Hermione's initial reluctance to accept Lucius' offer was because of the memories the old house held.
But there had been many changes since the Golden Trio's enforced stay at Malfoy Manor during the war, and all of those changes had been instigated by Lord Malfoy himself.
Desperate to remove all trace of the horrors that had occurred in his ancestral home, Lucius had instructed that the part of the house that had been frequented by Voldemort, his sister-in-law, and the more uncouth of the Inner Circle, was to be shut down and only reopened after an extensive renovation programme had been completed.
Initially, Hermione had visited the manor with Draco whilst Lucius was still awaiting trial. The unlikely pair had been to the cinema, and knowing that Draco was quite lonely in the manor by himself now that his mother had left, and with Lucius not being there, either, she didn't mind keeping him company, especially when her friend advised her that he lived in a part of the manor that Hermione had never visited before.
She had been worried about what would happen to her friendship with Draco once Lucius had been freed. However, Lucius was the first to admit that since his arrest at the Ministry of Magic, he had seen the error of his ways. He had to concede that it was hard to shake the views which had been entrenched in his family for centuries, but unlike many of his ancestors, his priority was, and always had been, the protection of his family, and being a typical Slytherin, he'd done whatever he'd had to do to protect them from the Dark Lord―which wasn't easy when the bastard was in your home.
As such―and after Lucius had offered the Muggle-born witch his heartfelt apology, as well as his gratitude to her for being there for Draco―Hermione had begun to find herself strangely comfortable at Malfoy Manor over the last few months, and many evenings were spent in well mannered, and sometimes heated conversation with Draco and his father.

Lucius had just arrived home following a frustrating afternoon of business meetings, where he once again had tried to repair the damaged Malfoy reputation. Walking into the drawing room, all he wanted to do was collapse into a chair with a glass of brandy and forget what had transpired. But he knew that a relaxing drink was out of the question when he saw Draco sitting on the floor sorting through bags of shopping.
He sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Don't you have a room you can clutter up rather than the drawing room?”
Draco simply huffed, continuing to go through his haul.
“Successful trip, I see," Lucius drawled, trying to initiate a conversation with his son. Tensions were still rife in the Malfoy household. Neither wanted it to be this way, but neither knew how to rectify it.
"It was. Hermione's trying on her dress for the Ministry Ball. She's going to look amazing," Draco told him enthusiastically.
"I might pop up and see her then. I presume she will be going with Weasley?" Lucius asked casually.
Draco laughed heartily. “I doubt it, after what she told me today. I know who she wants to take, but he's older, and she's worried that he'll turn her down," Draco informed him, trying not to give too much away.
"Anyone I know?"
Being an older wizard himself, the younger Malfoy's comment had certainly piqued his curiosity.
"I said he's older, not ancient,” Draco sniggered, knowing that his father was fishing to see if Hermione had been referring to him.
Lucius narrowed his eyes, before huffing light-heartedly, and headed up to see Hermione; his thoughts turning to whom the young witch might have her eye on.

Since Hermione had been spending time with Draco, he'd had to admit that he had begun to appreciate her being around. She was in his home because of Draco, but she'd spent a few evenings in conversation with him. Initially, they simply exchanged terse pleasantries until one night when Draco invited her to dinner.
Lucius had spent the afternoon with his best friend, who had mentioned Miss Granger's name a few times, especially in relation to Severus Snape's continuing ability to breathe, and the blond wizard had realised that Hermione was, despite blood status, quite a special witch. It was this realisation, combined with her friendship with his son, that influenced his decision to be the epitome of civility towards her. He had just wished that his son had afforded him the same courtesy, when, after a particularly vitriolic rant during dessert, Draco had stormed off.
The proud wizard's exasperated apology and dejected demeanour had stirred something in Hermione, and she found herself in a position that she never believed was possible: she'd had a conversation―a long conversation―with Lucius Malfoy, and, to both their surprise, they quite enjoyed it. Since then, he'd become aware that his regard for the witch was now verging on genuine affection―or maybe it was simply lust. Either way, he certainly hadn't expected this, but as he knocked and walked into Hermione's bedroom, the sight before him did nothing to deter him.
Hermione was standing in front of the mirror struggling to do up the back of her new silver floor-length dress. "My, my, my Hermione," Lucius drawled appreciatively, his eyes roaming over every curve that the dress had revealed.
Hermione chuckled playfully. "Why Lord Malfoy, you've suddenly developed a stutter."
"I have not,” Lucius blustered, “but any man would have trouble speaking upon seeing you in that dress. You look ravishing, my dear.” He then started to walk towards her, and practically purred, “Please allow me to assist with the back."
Hermione felt her spine tingle. What was it with powerful wizards and their voices? Lucius' voice was not as rich or deep as Severus', but his voice could still seduce the knickers off most witches after a short conversation. Severus, on the other hand, could seduce the knickers off her by just saying good morning.
Lucius was standing right behind her now, sweeping her her hair aside to ensure it didn't get caught in her zip. Hermione was aware of his proximity, but was initially unperturbed as he'd never done anything untoward before. But then she realised his hand was on her hip when he whispered in her ear, "You know, I have yet to solicit a partner for the Ministry Ball. I understand from Draco that you are unlikely to be attending with Weasley, so if you are still available, I would very much―"
"Father, I've been down to the kitchens. Is there any chocolate cake left? Hermione said she'll only stay if there's any left," Draco yelled, bursting into his friend's room completely unabashed.
"How should I know?" Lucius spat sneeringly at his son, annoyed at the interruption. Then, in a more gentle tone, he turned to Draco, and having actually considered the question he said, "Actually, I think we have run out, but I will happily remedy this by making a new one if it means we have the pleasure of Hermione's company this evening."
Hermione blushed slightly as Draco finally took in the scene before him. The glare he directed at his father warning his father to leave Hermione alone, but Hermione noticed him quail as Lucius returned it with equal vehemence. She looked at her friend reassuring him that she was alright, and the younger blond nodded before backing out of the room, and headed back downstairs.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Lucius turned his attention back to Hermione.
"As I was saying, my darling, if you are available I would be delighted if you would accompany me," Lucius purred against her ear.
Hermione's heart sank. She knew that, for all his bravado, Lucius had been quite lonely since Narcissa had left him, and if the situation had been different she would have accompanied him happily. However, she couldn't stop thinking about Severus, and her conversation with Draco earlier. She knew from her experience with the raven-haired wizard earlier in the day that there could be something between them, but she'd sensed his reluctance, and there was the possibility that his feelings were simply controlled by this mysterious bond. However, she knew that her feelings were genuine, and after Draco told her that Severus had talked about her, she hoped that his feelings weren't, indeed, controlled by the bond. All she knew was that any hope of something developing between the headmaster and herself was extremely fragile, and she wouldn't jeopardise it by accepting Lucius' invitation.
"Oh Lucius, I'm so sorry," she sighed, turning to look at him. "I'd love to, but I was hoping to ask someone else tomorrow. The trouble is, he hates public events, so I'm not sure if he'll be going. And if he is going, I don't even know if he'd want to go with me. Could I give you an answer tomorrow?"
Noticing the hurt in Lucius' steely grey eyes, Hermione kissed his cheek softly, and reiterated her apology.
Lucius took her hand in his. "You may, but although I am prepared to wait, I will only stand aside if I believe the man to be worthy of you.”
“He is,” Hermione admitted before adding sincerely, “and thank you for being so understanding. Now, can you unzip me so I can get into something more comfortable, please?"
Lucius attempted to clear his throat. "My pleasure," he croaked, gingerly taking hold of the zip.
He groaned internally, his finger occasionally brushing her soft skin as he lowered her zip. Since Narcissa had left, he'd had a few one-night stands, but what the blond wizard really wanted was a companion―someone who he could zip up and unzip without feeling guilty. Unfortunately, whoever he chose to occupy that role was always otherwise engaged.
Deep down, he knew he would still be looking for someone to take to the Ministry Ball tomorrow, but having just learnt that she had a penchant for older wizards, he still had hope. Excusing himself, Lord Malfoy left the witch to change, and headed back to the drawing room again to ponder whether the young Gryffindor would ever become enamoured of him. He finally had to admit to himself that he was in danger of becoming enamoured of her.

Lucius and Draco were sat in their large leather wing-back chairs, wine in hand. The older Malfoy had been using this time before dinner recently to try and patch up his relationship with his son. He had just enquired about his plans for tomorrow, when they were interrupted by Hermione's overly enthusiastic arrival.
"Have you shown your father your new purchases?"
Draco shook his head. "No, not yet. What did you think of that dress, Father?"
"Both the dress and its contents were quite exquisite," Lucius said, bowing his head reverentially towards Hermione.
"Oh stop it Lucius, you'll make me...Severus," she gasped, sinking to her knees. The glowing orb that had buried itself in her chest earlier rose up in front of her and hovered.
"'Mione, what's wrong?” Draco urged as both men ran to her side.
Looking suspiciously at the orb, Lucius was about to ask Hermione if she knew what it was when she panted out, "I need to get to Severus."
Lucius put his arm around her shoulders. "What is it? Tell me what's going on?"
"I don't know. He's in pain. I just need to go to him NOW."
Both Lucius and Draco looked at each other incredulously as the word now boomed over them. It was undeniably Hermione speaking, but she sounded different, and suddenly an unseen force pushed the older wizard away from her.
"Do you know where he is?" Lucius asked as Draco helped him back up. His concerned was evident in his voice, but he wasn't sure who he was more concerned for: his old friend or Hermione.
Hermione swallowed hard. "He'll be somewhere at Hogwarts,” she told him, acknowledging the orb, “and I have a feeling that will lead me to him."
The ball of light expanded slightly as if communicating that her assumption was correct.
Draco looked utterly confused, but Lucius seemed to be keeping a calm head. "You can Floo to Hogwarts from here,” he offered, helping Hermione to her feet.
"Get Professor McGonagall and meet me there," Hermione almost barked at them as she moved towards the fireplace. She grabbed a handful of Floo powder, and with that she―and the orb―were gone in a flash of green. The Malfoys followed moments later, heading for the Deputy Headmistress' office.

Hermione stumbled out of the fireplace into the living room of the headmaster's private chambers.
Looking around the room and gasped as she took in the scene. Furniture was either out of place, knocked over or broken; there was broken glass everywhere. Her eye was drawn to the orb which was hovering over a mass of black surrounded by a glistening pool of blackening red. Immediately recognising the prone form, she felt sick as images of the last time she'd found Severus like this flooded into her mind.
Hermione ran to him, collapsing to the floor to check his breathing. The blood had come from his head; she cast a diagnostic charm that she'd learnt during her time on the run before performing a healing on the headmaster. Luckily, nothing was broken, and although Severus had suffered extensive bruising and some blood loss, on closer inspection his injuries weren't as bad as they had initially looked. It was almost as if whoever had delivered this beating wanted to hurt him as much as possible without inflicting serious harm.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she gently gathered him up into her arms. Supporting his upper body against her, Hermione stroked his hair away from his face. He was still unconscious, and she took the advantage of the fact. She relished their proximity, feeling calmer than she had for as long as she could remember.
She traced her finger lightly over his lips―something she'd never thought she would have the opportunity to do. Burying her face in his hair, she felt her chest constrict as she whispered, “Thank God you're safe.”
The smell of his blood churned her stomach as it had on that infamous night in the Shrieking Shack. She cast a cleansing charm, annoyed with herself for not doing so before. She resumed nuzzling his now clean hair, and inhaled deeply, taking comfort from his underlying scent.
Hermione felt his body shift slightly as he started to come round, and rocked him gently, coaxing him back to consciousness.
“Wake up for me, please, Severus. Please, Sev, wake up for me," she whispered, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. She watched his eyelashes begin to flutter and smiled as the raven-haired wizard slowly opened his unfocused eyes.
It took Severus a while to comprehend what was going on. He had a headache―he was sure he did, but then again he had to be dreaming because Hermione Granger was smiling at him.
Damn visions, he groused to himself before deciding to risk having his dreams shattered by tentatively lifting a hand up to touch the face before him in an attempt to prove that she wasn't really there. However, his attempt was failed as his hand made contact with soft skin.
He froze as a very real hand reciprocated his touch, and a very real voice whispered, "Hello, Severus. We really must stop meeting like this."
Severus attempted to laugh, but his ribs hurt too much. He stilled to ease his discomfort but his eyes raked over the woman looking down on him. Eventually he managed to choke out. "Hermione?"
"Yep," she giggled softly.
A small smile graced the corner of his mouth before he grimaced as he tried to move again. "I believe I should look to break this habit of getting myself seriously injured so I can end up in your arms."
Hermione smirked, stroking his cheek with her thumb. "Yes, there are easier ways to get my attention. Any idea what happened to you?"
"I'm not sure. I still feel quite disorientated. However, I'm glad you're here," Severus admitted sheepishly. He hissed, trying to sit up again. "But as glad as I am to see you,” he groaned, “why are you here? I thought we had an understanding."
Trust you to go all adult on me at a time like this, Hermione thought to herself unaware that she was projecting her thoughts.
I heard that and trust me, I'd very much like to go very adult on you, he thought back with a smirk.
Hermione looked down at him, her eyes wide with shock, but then a deliciously wicked smile spread across her face.
Stop it or else I will have to take you in hand, Headmaster, she retorted in his mind.
Please do, he almost purred.
Hermione giggled before raising an eyebrow to tell him to behave.
"I sensed that you were in trouble and I collapsed," she told him. "All I know was that I was talking to Draco and Lucius and I collapsed. Then that orb appeared, and it led me here. I told Lucius and Drakey to find Professor McGonagall. Are you sure you're OK?"
"I'm fine...just sore," Severus sighed before his expression changed to one of incredulity. "Does Draco really let you call him 'Drakey'?"
Hermione nodded. “Yeah. Long story.”
"Bloody hell, I used to call him that when he was a small child," Severus chuckled softly.
Hermione smiled, trying to imagine Severus holding Draco in his arms and calling him Drakey, but her thoughts were interrupted as he groaned when the sudden realisation that Hermione and Draco were in the same school year hit him. "Oh Merlin! You're not much older than my godson."
"I'm not a child any more," Hermione informed him emphatically, her eyes boring into his.
All concerns about Hermione's age disappeared as Severus stared back, completely lost in those warm, brown eyes which were so full of longing and desire for him. Whether their reactions were being controlled by the bond or not he didn't care. He knew she was going to kiss him―and he had no desire to stop her― when she said, "And most girls would do anything to hold their schoolgirl crush and do this―"
Severus kicked himself internally as he raised his hand to prevent the witch from leaning down to reach her goal.
Hermione looked hurt and confused―a wave of fear that he didn't want her washed over her―and she bit her lip in consternation before sitting back up. "I'm sorry Headmaster. That was inappropriate," she forced herself to say.
Swallowing hard, Severus moved his hand to cup her cheek and gently stroked his thumb against her skin. "You misunderstand my hesitation, Hermione. I was merely wondering why you would wish to commit yourself to such an act. I wish nothing more than to kiss you, but why do you want to kiss me?"
"Because ever since you protected us from Lupin that night―not that it was his fault―I have wondered what it would be like to be yours," Hermione told him earnestly, trying to reassure him. "I know you're worried about this bond controlling us, but I can't see how it could be, when I've dreamt about you for years."
"Are you sure?" Severus asked cautiously; his usually controlled voice cracking slightly as she leaned closer to him again.
"I've never been more certain of anything in my life. I―"
Hermione's breath hitched as Severus' hand found its way to back of her head, and, tentatively, he leant up and softly pressed his lips to hers. It was a chaste kiss, but both of them knew it was significant. Pulling back slowly, almost stunned that they had taken this first step, they looked at each other. Breathing a little faster, their lips immediately touched again, but more assuredly this time.
As this kiss broke, Severus pushed himself up so that he could claim Hermione's lips more easily. Any doubts that he'd harboured melted upon his first taste of her, and like a starved man he was hungry for more. His fingers became entangled into the back of her hair before he kissed her ardently, gently swiping his tongue along the seam of her lips, seeking permission to deepen the kiss. She opened to him immediately, and soon they were both completely lost as their tongues rolled languidly together.
Hermione's hands were now in his hair as she jostled for position, but somehow she managed to knock herself off balance. It may not have been the sexy move she'd wanted to pull, but it meant that Severus was now totally supporting her body in his arms, and she realised that she'd never felt safer.
Severus, too, was relishing the feel of his witch―and she was his witch―in his arms. He wandlessly conjured a soft sheepskin rug before gently laying Hermione down upon it. Lying next to her, he propped himself up on his elbow, and resumed his gentle exploration of her mouth whilst his fingers traced down over her jaw and throat. Soft moans and groans could be heard from both of them as their kisses became more heated. Severus shifted awkwardly as he felt the familiar tightening sensation in his trousers, just as she was pressing her thighs together, trying to deal with the throbbing between her own legs.
However, as their passion built, they were exhibiting incredible self control. As much as they both wanted to take this moment further, they both knew that it wasn't the right time. So their intimacy was restricted to soft, innocent touches, and passionate kisses. Yet as Hermione moaned into his mouth and arched her body up against him, Severus pulled back, hardly believing that, for once, his dreams seemed to be coming to fruition.
He traced his finger over her lips, fascinated by their soft plumpness before his black orbs burned into her. In a tone which made Hermione melt, Severus told her, "I don't care what this bond is or its purpose. I am prepared to deal with anything as long as you are mine."
"I am yours, Severus, and you are mine," Hermione told him breathlessly, pulling him down for another kiss.
It was at this point that two things happened: The two orbs of light, which had been circling the room since Hermione first took Severus into her arms, came to rest above the couple as they continued their ministrations. And as they breathed soft promises to each other amongst the bliss of their kisses, they were unaware that they were no longer alone in Severus' living room.

Professor Minerva McGonagall had been alerted to the potential danger that the headmaster was in by Draco and Lord Malfoy. She had used the emergency ward breakers to gain access to Severus' chambers, dreading what she might find once access had been gained. What she and Lucius certainly hadn't expected to see was the headmaster on the floor kissing one of his students―although, given recent events, the fact that it was Hermione seemed to make sense. Draco, on the other hand, was trying to look shocked whilst secretly cheering them on.
"Headmaster, stop that at once," his deputy chastised before noticing Severus' battered face. “What in the name of ...oh, never mind. Strange bond or no, this is highly inappropriate, and I insist that you cease that immediately."
Lucius' realisation that Hermione's older wizard was Severus had hit him like a punch to the stomach. The headmaster was more powerful, more talented and certainly much richer than he was, and if his best friend claimed her, there would be no way he, or any wizard, could prise Hermione away from him. A wave of jealousy hit him.
"Yes, Severus, as Head of the Board of Governors, I will not press for your removal as I have been advised that there seems to be some unknown force involved, which has obviously impaired your judgement,” the blond wizard sneered before adding, “but only on this occasion. If you insist on continuing with this inappropriate―”
Severus turned to look at them all and scowled. "The only way this would be inappropriate is if I had forced my attentions onto Miss Granger.” He then turned to Hermione and asked dryly, “Have I forced my attentions on you, my dear?"
Still recovering from their kissing session, Hermione shook her head. "Absolutely not."
Severus smirked before continuing more seriously. "Although I appreciate how we conduct our relationship will be of concern, as long as we remain discreet―at least whilst Hermione remains a student―I see no reason why we cannot conduct a relationship.”
"But the bond, Severus. You're not in your right minds―either of you. Just unhand her and we will say no more about it," Minerva blustered.
Hermione sat up, looking between her Head of House and Lucius Malfoy. Her eyes were dark and full of power; her magic pulsing around her.
"I will only be unhanded when I ask him to unhand me. We may be bound by something that we don't understand yet, but as far as I'm concerned, this is more than that. And as for you, Lord Malfoy, was it appropriate for you to leer over me whilst inviting me to the Ministry Ball?"
Severus glared at Lucius who moved behind his son for protection. "How unsurprising it is to see you that you are hiding behind your son,” the black-haired wizard spat at his friend.
Draco gave his godfather a satisfied smile. After what he'd witnessed earlier, he wasn't terribly surprised to learn of his father's actions, but he was still disappointed in him. After all, he wanted Hermione as his godmother, not his stepmother.
Hermione spoke again, her voice manifesting itself as it had at Malfoy Manor. "You will not question Severus. He has done nothing wrong, and as headmaster you will all pay him the respect that he is due."
Severus looked at her curiously, but as soon as Hermione stopped speaking, the orbs, which had been dancing around on the ceiling, began to expand and eventually touched before merging together. Looking up, both Hermione and Severus felt the warm glow which had engulfed them earlier, when, without warning, the room began to shake violently.
All those assembled in the headmaster's chambers grabbed hold of something to steady themselves―Hermione and Severus grabbed hold of each other―as all the damage that had occurred when Severus was being thrown around his rooms had begun to right itself. Hermione noticed that the bruises on his face were disappearing, and Severus could feel the bruising on his ribs easing too.
All of a sudden, the room stilled, the two orbs split apart, and shot back into chests of the witch and wizard currently sprawled on the rug. A shockwave of magic erupted from the couple and sent Minerva, Lucius and Draco flying backwards against the wall. As the three of them picked themselves up, the source of the magical surge, Severus and Hermione, lay on the floor panting.
"What in Merlin's name was that?" Hermione asked, turning her head to look at him.
"I don't know, but Dumbledore should be informed,” Severus announced to the room in general before whispering to the curly-haired woman beside him. “But whatever you do, keep Minerva and Lucius in front of me. The last thing I need is to be hexed."
"It's OK, I'll protect you," Hermione giggled.
"After that display, I have no doubt that you will," Severus chuckled, leaning over to softly press his lips to hers.
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The Headmaster's Wife