Back To Me

A Meeting With Professor Snape

Hermione checked her reflection for the hundredth time. Not a single hair was out of place, and her makeup was perfect. It accented her beautiful eyes and emphasized her full lips. The only thing that looked off was the barrage of mixed emotions that could be seen in her eyes.


She tightened her cloak around her. This was purely professional. She needed to see him in regards to her daughter. The daughter that had been the end of their relationship, but her daughter nonetheless. Hermione scolded herself inwardly. Her daughter was worth giving up the world for.


As she turned to leave the room, her eye caught a photograph on the dresser. It was from her wedding day. She could scarcely believe that it had been more than seventeen years since that day. She stared at her own face in the photograph. She looked so lost, so helplessly lost. She had worn a smile for the camera, but behind the smile, her sadness could be seen.


She had owled Severus that very day, hoping that he would come back, hoping he would try and get her to change her mind, but he had not answered, he had not come. She remembered waiting, hoping through the whole ceremony that he would burst through the doors and object, but he had not come.


The last letter she had sent him was from the hospital on the day Rose was born. She never even knew if he got it, but she supposed if he had, he would not have responded anyway. After all, it was the letter in which she told him she was going to try with Ron for the sake of their daughter. It was the letter in which she told him goodbye.


She thought on the years that she and Ron had been married. Their relationship was an easy one, and after a while, Hermione started to feel like it was definitely sensible. Her anger had long since dissolved, replaced by love of a different sort. She did love him.


After all, she had spent the last seventeen and a half years as his wife. She never had passion with him, at least never the sort of passion she had shared with Severus. She thought perhaps that sort of passion was a rare gift, and you only got one shot at it.


She had remained true to Ron, suffering in silence. In the duration of their marriage, only one other man had ever entered her mind. She wondered briefly if perhaps she was making a mistake in going to see him. She wondered if perhaps the pain was best left in the past, instead of dragged to the forefront of her heart.


She wondered how he was. Was he happy? She hoped so, though a small part of her hoped he was suffering inside as she was, because the thought that their love meant less to him than it had to her was too much for her to bear. She gathered her thoughts and her courage and smoothed her hair one last time before leaving her bedroom.


As she walked the now familiar path to Hogwarts, she tried to untie the knots in her stomach. When Rose had started at her preschool, Hermione convinced Ron to buy a house in Hogsmeade, so that when she started at Hogwarts, she could come home on weekends. Ron was happy to make the move, as it allowed him to help his brothers out at their main shop whenever he could.


Hermione took a deep breath as she reached the main gate. She felt her nerves lurch as the wards recognized her, allowing her entrance. She walked the path up to the castle door, noting how little the grounds had changed over the years. She was greeted by Fang II as she passed Hagrid’s hut. He looked exactly like his predecessor, and Hermione felt for a moment like she was back in her schooldays.


She felt like she was going to the potion master’s office to serve a detention for her transgressions. She rarely thought of Severus in that way. She rarely thought of him as her teacher, because when he was her teacher, even the most renowned seer could not have convinced her that she would be desperately, madly in love with him one day, and she was sure he felt the same.


She thought back to the night they had first shared together. They both grabbed for the same copy of Advanced Potions Methods. It was the last copy in the store. She bought it, agreeing in exchange to buy him dinner. It was meant to be completely innocent, as she was seeing Ron at the time, but after a night of conversation, her head was buzzing with new sensations, and she had agreed to see him again.


Somehow, over the course of a few weeks, these innocent meals they shared together because less than innocent; first starting with a kiss goodnight, and then, a cup of coffee afterwards, and then, nights of passionate lovemaking. She pushed her guilt aside, telling herself that Ron was steady, Ron was sensible, and until she knew what Severus’ intentions were, she could not burn that bridge.


It was in the throes of their passion that he had cried out his love for her. She had written it off as the heat of the moment, but when he said it again later, she knew he meant it, and that she loved him too. It was on that night that she had agreed to leave Ron and be with him. Little did she know then, that her life would change forever.


She steeled herself as she reached the main door. Once inside, she walked the path to the dungeons with her head held high. She could do this. She could face him again. With a trembling hand, she knocked at his door.


“Enter,” she heard him say simply from within.


She felt her vision cloud slightly as she opened the door.


He was seated behind his desk, in his telltale black robes, but he looked different. His hair was the same, save for a few stray slivers of silver here and there, but his skin was different. It had a healthy glow, and his body was lean and ripped, his abs apparent even through the miles of robes he wore. Hermione inhaled sharply.


He looked at her, unable to speak. He did not know what to say. He never thought he would see her again, and yet here she was, standing before him, even more beautiful than he remembered. He had taken the position at Hogwarts knowing there was a chance he would encounter her daughter, but he took that chance anyway, and when he saw those amber eyes looking at him with reverence, he felt he might collapse.


He had spent the last fifteen years exploring the world for rare potions ingredients. He had hiked through mountains, dodged ancient wards in Egypt, and fought off magical beasts in the jungle. He had immersed himself in his work to keep from thinking of her, yet here she was, standing before him, looking like a goddess.


The tension that passed between them was more than palpable, and neither really knew what to say. It was Severus who finally broke the silence.


“Your daughter is beautiful, as I knew she would be. It kills me that she is a Weasley and not a Snape,” he said, gazing into her eyes, as if searching for something.


“She’s already too smart for her own good. Imagine how smart she would have been with you as a father,” Hermione replied, voice wavering.


Severus merely nodded in response. He just could not tear his eyes from her.


“She says you don’t like her, and she is worried you won’t let her into your NEWT class,” Hermione said, feeling the need to get to the point before her knees buckled beneath her.


“She is painful for me to look at,” Severus admitted. “She has your eyes and your nose and your brain, yet she has Weasley’s red hair, and his mouth, and it kills me.”


Hermione crossed the room to where he sat.


“She is the most adept little potion maker I have ever seen. She helps me create new potions for the ministry. She needs this,” Hermione said softly.


“Why is it so hard for me to hate you?” he asked, not meeting her gaze.


She placed a hand on his arm, feeling a pulse in her loins as her skin made the contact with him.


He covered her hand with his own.


“Because you know that I have suffered as you have,” Hermione whispered.


They sat in silence for several minutes.


“I assure you that your daughter will have no problems getting into my class,” Severus said, “she is, after all, her mother’s daughter.”


Hermione managed a weak smile.


“Thank you for not punishing her for what I did to you,” she said softly.


Severus tipped her chin up and looked into her eyes.


“When are you going to stop punishing yourself?” he asked her.


Hermione considered his question, her eyes tired.


“When I can forgive myself for what happened between us,” she said softly.


He tucked a curl behind her ear and planted a tender kiss on her lips. She gazed into his eyes, her cheeks flushed a deep scarlet. The world seemed to melt away, leaving only him before her.


She kissed him again, allowing her cloak to fall to the floor. He placed a hand on her cheek and deepened the kiss, feeling her soft curls beneath his fingers.


She felt her fingers trembling violently as she unbuttoned his robes. Her eyes swept over his body, memorizing every detail, from the thin pink lines of new scars, to the faded white lines of older ones. She traced a finger across his broad, tanned chest.


She gazed into his eyes again. She saw the wanton desire from her own eyes reflected in his murky orbs. She unfastened the clasp to her robes and let them fall to the floor, leaving her in only her bra and knickers.


Severus took in the sight before him, his eyes lingering on the delicate green lace of her knickers, and the sheer fabric of her matching bra. It had been seventeen years since he had last touched her, but in his estimation, she was even more beautiful now than she had been all those years ago.


She locked her gaze on his as she unhooked the back clasp of her bra and let it join the rest of her clothes in a pile on the floor. She saw his face flush at the sight of her naked breasts, and she blushed too. She could scarcely remember the last time anyone had looked at her the way he was looking at her right now.


He reached out and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her closer to him so that she was flush with his body. She wrapped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair as he captured her mouth with his lips. She felt her knickers disappear and heard the lock click on the door. It seemed Severus had greatly advanced in his wandless magic abilities.


He trapped a nipple between his teeth and suckled it, cupping her arse with his hand. She still felt natural in his arms. He lifted her up and thrust into her, filling her. Their bodies became one, and Hermione felt her body tingling with sensations she had forgotten she could feel. She wrapped her legs securely around his waist as he pulled back and thrust into her again, their bodies slick with sweat.


She moaned softly into his mouth as he kissed her once more, thrusting in and out of her in desperation, in need. She squeezed him tightly, holding him against her as they moved.


As he felt her tighten around him, he approached his climax and they cried out together, both collapsing in a heap.


They lay there like that for several minutes, just basking in the afterglow of what they had done, and for the first time in seventeen years, Hermione felt the warmth of love wash over her like a blanket.


Perhaps it was time to stop punishing herself.


A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy reading that as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please Review!