Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

"Unanswered Prayers"	By : T-W-O Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 26252 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own HP, nor the characters from it. I don't make squat from the writing of this story. I do lose sleep, tho'...

Chapter List
- 1-"Unanswered Prayers"
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9a
- 10-9b
- 11-9c
- 12-10
- 13-11a
- 14-11b
- 15-11c
- 16-11d
- 17-11e
- 18-11f
- 19-11g
- 20-12
- 21-13
- 22-14
- 23-15
- 24-16
- 25-17
- 26-18
- 27-19
- 28-20
- 6
- 7
- 8
“Absolutely NOT!”
Humming and ignoring his objection, Hermione dragged her bounty through the front door, dropping the interior temperature 15-deg-F while the door lay open.
“I’ll clean up the snow and the needles. Isn’t it gorgeous?”
Four-foot of bushy pine tree lay in their living area, dropping needles and snow on the area they’d just cleaned.
“WHY is that here?”
“Because you’ve never had a proper Christmas and everyone should have one Christmas.”
“Hermione, if I desired to celebrate this incredibly materialistic justification for drinking into stupefaction, have you not reasoned that I could do so at Hogwarts?”
Worrying her lower lip told Severus that she had the answer but feared speaking it out loud.
“Be a brave little Gryffindor and answer.”
“You didn’t have friends to celebrate it with. It isn’t the same.”
“And what has changed?”
The answer mattered more to Severus than to Hermione, to his way of thinking.
“You have me. You’re not alone anymore.”
Severus' thumb and index finger pinched the skin between his eyebrows as he closed his eyes.
“If I indulge you yet again, will you remove that monstrosity from my clean floor and carpet when this ‘holiday’ is done?”
Youthful glee suppressed her common sense. Hermione threw herself against him, hugging him tightly in gratitude for compromising on this point.
“Thankyou-Thankyou-Thankyou!”
“You do realize there’s a major flaw in your plan.”
“What’s that?” she grunted out as she maneuvered the tree towards its final location.
“Presents, Hermione. Doesn’t a celebration this insipid require the exchange of presents?”
“It does and I already have yours.”
“As I did not anticipate participating in this, I haven’t acquired anything for you.”
“You have five days — and it can’t cost more than five galleons.”
“Why???…”
“Because it’s the thought that counts.”
Five days later Hermione and Severus exchanged presents at midnight of Christmas Day. He’d been well enough to do a short walk in the snow, circling the cottage while they discussed approaches to brewing up something to help with his wounds. She’d uncovered information he hadn’t known.
“Here — Happy Christmas, Severus!”
Carefully unwrapping the rectangular object he found a photo album. Inside were more than 30 pictures of Lily Potter from infancy through her graduation from Hogwarts, none with James Potter or the other Marauders in them.
“Harry helped me get them. I know you loved her; she mattered to you a great deal.”
Tears dripped down his large nose and onto the photo of Lily lying under the tree near their houses on Spinner’s End.
“No one knew… except Dumbledore. Voldemort said I could have better, pure-blood witches at my disposal, not a filthy mudblood. James Potter married her and Voldemort killed her… my Lily…”
Without a word Severus rose and retreated into their shared bedroom, closing the door. Hermione smiled; she’d expected this reaction.
Hours later he found her asleep on the couch, unwilling to intrude on his privacy.
“Hermione…”
He shook her gently, knowing how deeply she slept when she really slept.
“Hermione… it’s Christmas and I haven’t given you your present.”
“Severus? Are you okay?”
“Yes, except for the challenge your narcoleptic sleeping pattern presents. I have something for you.”
Reaching deep in his lounging robes he pulled out a small packet wrapped in plain paper but sporting an enchanted ribbon that changed colors and bow shapes.
“Thank you, Severus. You do know you didn’t have to.”
“I doubt that. I cherish the peace and quiet here most days and would like for it to remain that way.”
“Oh, Severus!”
A beautiful silver chain held a small translucent vial delicately housed in platinum.
“It’s a potion; draught of peace and everlasting elixir. When you have nightmares, just take a sip. The chain and vial were my mother’s. The vial will always refill itself…”
Walking on her knees, Hermione parted his knees where he sat on the couch, leaned into his torso and hugged him.
“Thank you.”
He held her and couldn’t remember when they’d gotten up and retired to their beds.

“‘ello? Hermione?”
The call from a stranger’s voice finally got through the fog of sleep. Twisting into a new position to ignore the noise disturbed the vial resting against her bosom which then reminded her of the last twelve hours.
“They’re here!” she shouted.
“Coming!”
A whirlwind flew around the bedroom and into/out of the bathroom.
“Severus! Wake up — we have company! Severus!”
“I am not deaf. I thought the benefit of this location was its secrecy and, formerly, its quiet.”
“Don’t be a grouch,” she scolded playfully, “just get up and get ready.”
Giddy with anticipation she bounded out the of the bedroom like a five-year-old, closing the door behind her.
“Harry! Professors! Come in, please!”
“You’ve been hiding out here forever while I’ve been stuck with Ron by myself. He can be a right prat around girls.”
Laughing in their hug, Hermione confirmed her knowledge of Ron’s maturity level.
“Professor McGonagall,” Hermione greeted their other guest, “please come in and sit down. Who did you bring with you?”
A bag way too small to be useful dangled from Minerva McGonagall’s wrist.
“Potter, a bit of assistance, please…” the older professor requested.
A portrait emerged from the bag, nearly life sized, and spoke courteously once leaned in a spot where it could take in the room.
“Ms. Granger! I had expected someone pale and peaked yet I see a lovely young lady before me. How is your recovery coming along?” Dumbledore asked amiably.
“I’m not the patient. sir. Severus is — I mean, Professor Snape is.”
“Hmm…” the portrait replied.
“You’ve been up here forever, Hermione. What’s going on with him?”
“‘Him’, Mr. Potter, is fine. She refuses to leave due to some misguided belief that without her mediocre nursing care I will cease to exist.” Severus Snape announced as he entered the room.
Harry inhaled sharply in preparation for defending the sacrifice Hermione made every day she stayed here when the subject herself roared with laughter.
“As you can see for yourself, Severus’ biting wit and razor-sharp sarcasm have healed completely. The rest of his carcass requires more time and attention.”
This time Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore’s portrait joined in the laughter.
Snape? Laughing???…
Minerva broke the spell by unclasping her cape in preparation for sitting. McGonagall gave Snape a once over before inquiring to his health.
“Tell us, Severus, how have you fared?”
“I’m sure Poppy’s first action on her return from our visits is to report to you.”
“Come now, Severus, don’t be difficult. You are a unique individual under any circumstances but you are now the only known survivor of an attack by that accursed snake, Nagini. What have the challenges been?”
“Simply put, the wounds themselves are cursed, Albus.”
With a graceful move he opened his shirt and robe to reveal the barely healed insults.
“Well…” Dumbledore spoke quietly, “that is to be expected when one is attacked by a horcrux.”
“I suspected as much myself after those vague and life-threatening instructions you gave me.”
“And what have you discovered about the wounds?” Albus inquired, drawn into the topic.
“Nothing we have works for long but in combination some work for a time,” Hermione chimed in, glad to be back into school-mode.
“The wounds themselves were getting smaller when Severus was unconscious and I bathed him in a number of healing potions. We’re trying to isolate what combination will work because they haven’t improved much since he came out of the coma.”
“Does Severus apply the potions exactly as you did?”
“I never noticed. Severus?”
Harry and McGonagall observed the interplay between nurse and patient.
“No; I am not on my back in bed, I am not humming some inane melody and I am not nude.”
“H-H-Hermione!?” Harry stuttered out.
“Relax, Harry. I had to bathe him during his weeks in a coma. Madame Pomfrey instructed me.”
“I have an interest in discovering new treatments for cursed wounds. Would it be a great imposition if I stayed until Poppy’s next visit and assisted?” Albus requested.
“No, Professor Dumbledore, of course not!” “Yes, you meddlesome old codger.”
“Thank you, Ms. Granger. Minerva, please inform Poppy and have her bring my travel sack to retrieve me when she visits.”
“Gladly, Albus. I shall miss your insights.”
“You’re too kind; I believe you mean you will not miss my interference in your running of the school.”
With greetings settled, the three most familiar with Christmas exchanged presents. Unaware that they’d have visitors, Severus sulked at not having presents for them until Hermione needled and teased him back to his normal ascerbic demeanor.
“‘Mione, this is for you.”
Harry gifted her a pensieve with 100 empty vials.
“Thank you, Harry.”
Living together on the run, he’d held her during the worst of the nightmares that Ron slept through.
Hermione gifted Harry a rare book on Quidditch. As one of the “Golden Trio” and a full time nurse for a secret war hero, Hermione received a pile of galleons every month. She’d made arrangements with Poppy to get the book when Poppy notified her of Harry’s request to spend Christmas together.
Hermione and Minerva exchanged lovely scarves, Minerva’s a silk blend that responded to her moods and Hermione’s a warm woolen blend in Caribbean colors that moved up and down the scarf like a ticker at the Quidditch World Cup.
Minerva gifted Severus his own stash of potion ingredients shrunk to fit into his palm. She rightly guessed his impatience with Hermione’s results — not that they weren’t impressive for a young witch, but Severus had several ideas in mind that he was unwilling to share with Hermione just yet.
Harry brought a complimentary gift to Hermione’s for Snape — two volumes of his mother’s childhood diaries. Each contained writings about her time with Severus when they lived at Spinner’s End. Harry had the books duplicated magically and gifted Snape the originals; each smelled of the washing powder Lily’s mother used on her dresses. Harry’d found them carefully tucked away, apparently by Sirius, at 12 Grimmauld Place. More volumes awaited scrutiny but these spoke lovingly of her first magical friend.
“She loved you, Professor…” Harry spoke softly to the odd sight of Severus fighting tears.
“If you’ll excuse us, Severus could do with a rest. We were up late celebrating his first Christmas with friends. Severus?”
Caring hands tugged him up and accompanied him as far as the bedroom door before sending him on.
“Will he be alright?” Harry queried.
“In a bit. I think it’s all overwhelming, you know? He’s not exactly led a normal life.”
“No, Ms. Granger. He hasn’t. Your observations are, as always, spot on.” Albus added.
“Last night — when I gave him the photos — something similar happened. He’ll come around. Join me in the kitchen? The meal will be ready in an hour.”
Lugging Dumbledore’s painting around the corner of the living area they all enjoyed catching up over drinks and canapés as Hermione completed supper.

“Severus?” Hermione called out as she entered their bedroom, “It’s time to eat.”
“Why did you put me through all of this?”
“Excuse me?”
“I was happy with my life. I was settled. I knew who I was.”
“Severus, Voldemort’s dead. Your life will have to change.”
“I don’t know this weak, whimpering simp who cries at photographs and diaries written by small girls.”
“When our guests leave, I’ll help you get to know him. Come, please. We’re waiting and supper’s getting cold. I roasted a leg of lamb for you.”
He stood and offered his arm to her; they rejoined their friends at the table.

“Harry and I will clear up. I’m sure Severus would like to catch up without his nursemaid around.”
“Yes, as I haven’t required a nappy change in ages.”
Hermione’s shocked laughter followed Minerva, Snape and Albus’ portrait back into the living area. Harry joined her at the sink, remembering her preference to clean the kitchen by muggle methods.
“You okay here with him?”
“Why wouldn’t I be???”
“He’s brave and all… but it is Snape.”
Both chuckled at Harry’s pronouncement.
“How bad are your nightmares?”
“Better than they were. Severus gave me a portion to help with the worst of them. It’s here —”
Hermione dangled the vial in front of Harry from its chain around her neck.
“Can’t get over how chummy you two are.”
“Jealous, Potter?” she teased, bumping him with a shoulder.
“It’s… you look better, Hermione; not all wrung out and scared.”
“It’s still there, Harry. But I’m definitely better than I was. I think that’s what Dumbledore was asking me.”
“Ron asked if I’d, you know, talked to you…”
“Ronald Weasley couldn’t care less about having one less tart shagging his hero arse. He informed me how he’d be spending his time while I cared for Severus. Any ‘little Rons’ yet?”
“What happened between you two?”
“He doesn’t love me the way I love him. I grew up and he didn’t. He left us, Harry. Carrying that awful locket affected all of us but I stayed with you and you kept going.”
“Well, it is Ron we’re talking about. You know how he gets.”
“Yes, I do. Ron’s lazy. I haven’t forgotten who comforted me when my worst memories of Bellatrix came back.”
“Just think about talking to him. He misses you. I always thought you two would end up together if we lived.”
“So did I, Harry. I love him. But he’s not interested in ’this’ Hermione.”
“I understand.”
“What about you and Ginny? Shagged her yet?”
“Yeah, I did!”
“Harry!”
“Married her first, though. Don’t tell McGonagall yet — Hogwarts doesn’t keep married students.”
“Why are you grinning like that? She’s not… Ginny’s pregnant!?”
Hermione barely stopped her squeal.
“About two weeks. We’re keeping it quiet — even her mum doesn’t know. By the time Pomfrey checks her out it will be spring term. They won’t bounce her that close to graduation.”
“Congratulations! Are you happy about it?”
“Over the moon. Just wish you and Ron were taking the trip with us.”
“Harry, even if Ron and I get back together I’m not ready to look after any little ones yet. I have a life to reclaim and any number of horrors to forget.”
“Sort of like Snape.”
Hermione pondered this as she tucked the last of the silverware away and joined Harry at the table. She cast a quick silencing spell around them.
“That’s true... Severus lost everything. No position, no mission, no real home. Seeing them together tonight, I wonder if Dumbledore was his only friend. Imagine you’re only companion being a dead man.”
“”Is that why you’ve been here so long? It’s been seven months.”
“Madame Pomfrey warned me that Severus is still a suicide risk. He can barely process any emotion that isn’t disdain or anger without tears. That’s why I’ve been making a big deal out of Christmas. He reminds me of you — the brilliant wizard mistreated and put upon by life. I marvel at you sometimes, Harry… You didn’t turn into Severus.”
“Found some good friends and the love of my life. Changes everything.”
“I suppose it does. I want that for Severus… There’s also the matter of his wounds. Until those close completely he’s vulnerable to infection. He gave himself a paper cut helping me lay in supplies for the winter and nearly died a month ago. He’s too stubborn to keep the wounds dressed, says the bandages hurt when he moves no matter how I secure them. So we’ll be here a while longer. I’m hoping he and Dumbledore will come up with some miracle. I will miss this place.”
“Really!?”
“Yes! In summer there plenty of sunlight; no darkness to fear. It’s peaceful now, in winter. I can read all day uninterrupted by the overblown crises of ordinary life. And Severus can be great company. He’s brilliant and you’ve heard that cutting wit he has. We’ve actually gotten a lot done with the research for healing those wounds; although I probably hold him back. He’s introduced me to any number of things in the magical world and he’s used to muggles so some of my strange habits —”
“Like scrubbing the floor on your hands and knees instead of using a spell?”
“Yes, Harry, like that,” she giggled, “don’t bother him in the least. I sleep better here, not always jerking awake waiting for something to attack me… I’m recovering. Maybe that’s why I’m upset with Ron. He never saw how fragile I was when the war ended, why I couldn’t just tear off giving interviews or chasing escaped Death Eaters or shagging like rabbits. I don’t have that pressure here.
“I promise you, Harry, when Severus is ready I’ll come back and I’ll work on my relationship with Ron. I won’t hide here forever.”
“Good. Because I’m expecting to make you a godparent. The baby’s due in September.”
“I’m really happy for you both. Ginny loves you.”
“Imagine that.”
“You’re being a prat, Potter.”
“Hey! I thought that was Ron!”
- 6
- 7
- 8
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"Unanswered Prayers"