Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Madrigal	By : Rotisserie_Cassowary Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 7984 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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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“Master Snape, if I ask you a question, do you promise not to tell anyone what I say?”
“That depends on a number of factors, Miss Granger,” I responded warily. It was quite late on the following Sunday evening. We’d produced quadruple batches of three different potions over the course of the day, and I was nearly falling asleep on my feet as we bottled and labeled our final brew.
“Well, it affects all of us. And it’s important to the war effort. But I’m not supposed to discuss it with anyone.”
Exasperated, I sighed, “Oh just go on then. I won’t tell anyone.”
“What is a horcrux?”
Bile rose in my throat at the sound of the abhorrent word on her lips. “Where did you hear that term, girl?!” I hissed dangerously.
“I don’t know how much I can tell you! Harry’s been sworn to secrecy! I only ask because I’ve spent nearly two dozen hours searching the restricted section, and I can’t find even a single mention. It’s so strange!”
“You won’t find anything in the library,” I responded darkly. “And let me guess who swore Harry to secrecy? Hmm… could it be our favorite manipulative sociopath Headmaster?” I spat.
Hermione looked scandalized at me describing Dumbledore in such a way. I realized that I’d carefully been avoiding even mentioning him the past few months. “This is what he does. His trade is secrets and lies. Only certain people can know certain things. It’s fucking ridiculous. Just tell me what’s going on, Hermione.” I held my face in my hands, rubbing my eyes exhaustedly.
“Ok… ok. So Harry’s been going to these special ‘lessons’ with Dumbledore. They’ve been watching old memories about You-Know-Who in the Pensieve. I guess the Headmaster wants Harry to understand Him better or something? I’m not really sure. But anyway, there was this memory of Professor Slughorn’s that had been altered somehow. And in the memory Tom Riddle asked him what a horcrux is. Harry is supposed to get the real memory from Slughorn somehow, but I just want to know what the heck a horcrux even is!”
I walked over to my bookcase, pulling a slim, blood-red volume from the top shelf. I flipped a couple pages, then handed the open book to her silently. She scanned the page rapidly, her expression becoming increasingly appalled with each passing second. She didn’t even finish the entry, just handed it back to me with a pale, nauseated expression on her face. “Oh,” she said lamely.
“Indeed.” I responded simply.
“So do you think Vol-, sorry, You-Know-Who made one of those?!” she asked with disgust coloring her voice.
“I don’t imagine Dumbledore would be focusing Potter’s efforts on retrieving the memory unless he had good reason to believe the Dark Lord has horcruxes.”
“Horcruxes? You think he made more than one?!”
“Oh, certainly. The Dark Lord has never been one to put all his eggs in one basket. Almost literally, in this case,” I joked wryly.
“I have to tell Harry about this!”
“Oh, no, you don’t!”
“What do you mean?” She protested, “He has to know!”
“He will. In time. I tried to teach Potter Occlumency, remember? That boy has the worst poker face known to wizardkind. I don’t trust him to hide this knowledge from Dumbledore. Just make him concentrate on getting that memory from Slughorn.”
“Yeah, I know. We thought it was going to be so easy! Slughorn loves Harry. He’s always bragging about what a potions genius he is…”
I choked out a laugh, interrupting her mid-sentence, “Potter?! A potions genius?!”
“Yes! It makes me so mad! He found this potions book with all this writing in, and he never lets me look at it! But he does what it tells him, and he makes amazing potions every time…” A look of dawning recognition appeared on her face.
“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY???”
“OH MY GODS!!! HOW DID I NOT RECOGNIZE YOUR HANDWRITING?!! IT’S CHANGED A BIT OVER THE YEARS, BUT IT’S SO OBVIOUS NOW!! I’M SO STUPID!!!” She was pacing back and forth, pulling on her hair furiously.
“You need to get that book. Now. It’s unspeakably dangerous.” I told her calmly, desperately trying to keep a lid on my temper.
“How?! He never lets it out of his sight! He’s obsessed with it!”
“Gods, this is the worst possible fucking scenario…” I looked at her seriously. “There is very dark magic in that book. Curses I invented. Horrible things. You have to get it.”
“If you created them, they can’t be that bad!”
I cut her off with a deranged, mocking laugh. “You have no fucking idea, little girl. You know that scar you have on your chest? From the battle at the ministry last year? You have me to thank for that.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, lip quivering.
“I invented that Slicing Hex that slashed you open. ‘Sectumsempra’. Gods, I was so proud of that one…” I shook my head shamefully. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you before you can get it through your head. I’m not a good man, Hermione. I’m a despicable, disgusting, rotten excuse for a human being.”
Desolate tears were spilling from her eyes, but she reached out to embrace me. I pushed her away, turning my back and storming across the lab.
She dashed after me, grabbing the back of my waistcoat and forcing me to stop. She wrapped her arms around me from behind. She hugged me almost painfully tight around the ribs, and her voice was muffled against my back, “You’re none of those things, Severus. Maybe you were when you wrote that book, but you’re different now. You changed. Even if you’re not a good man, you do good things. And that’s all any of us can do, ok? We just try to do the right thing. You always try to do the right thing.”
“Gods, Hermione, you have such a twisted idea of who I am. Don’t you see? If I always tried to do the right thing, you and I wouldn’t be… We wouldn’t be doing any of this…” I waved my arm around vaguely.
“Who’s to say it’s not the right thing?! A hundred years ago- less than that, really- I’d already be married with kids by now! And you know that wizarding society is way more accepting of age differences than muggles… When you live to be well over 120 years old, and the community is so small, your options are limited!”
“You think I don’t know all this? You think I haven’t said those things to myself a million times to try and convince myself that I’m not doing something wrong?” I asked dejectedly.
“You’re not doing anything wrong! I haven’t been coerced for fuck’s sake! I haven’t been assaulted! I’m an adult, and I can make my own decisions! And I’m getting really sick of you acting like this is sordid and wrong! How do you think that makes me feel?! Like I’m this perverted, dirty little secret you have! Like I don’t mean anything to you!!!” she shrieked, crying rather hysterically now.
I turned around and held her bracingly by the upper arms. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I never meant to belittle you. I certainly never wanted to make you feel like I’m ashamed of you. Quite the opposite.” I cupped her face gently in my palms, wiping her tears away with my thumbs. I looked deeply into her red, puffy eyes. “You are my one spot of light in the spiraling darkness. You could never understand how much you mean to me. I was a dead man. You brought me back to life, girl.”
She smiled at me shyly, placing a sweet, lingering kiss on my cheek. I kissed her forehead and pulled her into a long, bittersweet embrace. “Sneak into his room tomorrow night after he’s asleep and steal the book. Bring it to me. I’ll fix it, and you can return it before he wakes up.” She nodded against my chest, replying tenderly, “Yes, Sir.”
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Madrigal