The Fortress Within

Severus slipped through the bedroom door carrying a tray


Severus slipped through the bedroom door carrying a tray. 
He looked to the bed where Hermione lay sleeping. 
She had been awake for a couple hours that morning and he had seen to it
that she ate some toast and had a cup of tea. 
While she ate, he had run a warm bath for her, adding some oil infused
with bergamot and sweet marjoram.
 


With his assistance, she had made it to the bathroom and
into a chair he had placed near the tub.  Severus
smiled as she leaned over and breathed in the fragrant steam of the bath. 
He watched her, brows knit as she puzzled out the scents. 
When they were categorically identified, she had smiled and thanked him
for his thoughtfulness.
 


He allowed her privacy and after about an hour, he heard
her voice calling.  Hermione sat,
once again in the chair; dressed in the clean nightgown he had left hanging on
the back. 
 


At her request he brought her hairbrush from the top of her
dresser, mentally noting that she had not Accio’d it herself. 
He leaned against the edge of the sink as she began to work the knots
from her now wet chestnut curls.  As
she lifted her arms higher, to work the knots, her hands began to shake and the
brush fell to the floor.  “I think
that is quite enough for now, Hermione,” he had told her before grabbing the
brush and sweeping her into his arms. 
 


He sat her in the center of the bed and moved to sit behind
her.  The back of her hair was a
mass of knots.  Severus pushed the
vision of her thrashing her head back and forth, fighting, twisting the curls
into the mess that they now were.  Carefully
he began to gently work the brush through her hair, not stopping until the last
curl had been pulled free of its snare.
 


Severus saw that she had slumped a bit to the right and was
supporting her weight on a trembling arm.  He
slid to her side and eased her back against the pillows. 
Hermione’s eyes searched for his, and a small smile crept across her
face.  Feathery lashes touched
shadowy hollows as she quickly fell asleep. 
He pulled the blankets up, ensuring her warmth and had spent the
remainder of the morning reading in the next room.
 


So here he was, bringing her lunch. Severus sat the tray on
the table beside the bed and at the soft clink, her eyes opened. 
“Lunchtime,” he explained quietly.
 


“And yours?”
 


He smiled at her and nodded in agreement. 
“Tomato soup and toasted cheese.  That
is what I believe the muggles call comfort food.” 
Hermione grinned in anticipation and began to sit up. 
At Severus’ command, the pillows beneath her head began to rise and
expand until she was sitting upright.  He
sat the tray in her lap and removed his plate. 
By the time he had fetched the chair from the bathroom, she had devoured
half of her sandwich.
 


Severus placed his chair near the table, sat down and began
to eat.  She made an incredulous
face at him as he bit into the dry sandwich. “No, no, no, you’re doing it
all wrong.  You have to dip the
sandwich in the soup, then take a bite.” His upper lip rose in disgust as she
demonstrated.  He looked skeptically
at his sandwich before dipping just the edge of it in the creamy concoction.  He took a dainty bite and was pleasantly surprised to find it
very appealing.  They finished their
lunch in a comfortable silence.
 


Severus cleared away the dirty dishes, leaving them by the
fireplace for the elves.  He turned
around at the sound of halting footsteps to find Hermione making her way to the
sofa.  She assumed her position in
the corner wrapped in her blanket.  Severus
settled in the opposite corner and looked at her, trying to find the words that
had been screaming to be said.
 


Hermione came to his rescue.  “Thank you for taking care of me last night, Severus.” 
Before he could protest, she continued on, 
“I saw you in the ballroom, I could feel your eyes following me
everywhere and knew that you were watching over me. 
I noticed that man speaking to you. 
I tried to move around to where you could see around him, but the crowd
was impassable.  I moved backward,
toward the outer wall to get around and suddenly, I was drug through a doorway
or panel, or something.  Her
reactions tend to be more physical than mine and she began to fight.  I tried to persuade her to stop struggling and think, but she
just kept pushing me back.  They
beat me, us, whatever….  Gods, I
can still feel the way each blow, each kick just exploded through my body. 
With every one, my powers grew weaker and I guess I passed out.”
 


“When I came to, Lucius was on top of me, he took his
turn first.  She was furious and
began to struggle.  That’s when
they held me down and Lucius began to follow every stroke with a slap.  At least that pushed him over the edge a little faster. 
Draco was next, then a couple more I didn’t know. 
If she fought, then they beat her until she gave in. 
I don’t remember who it was that finally put me out again, but I
remember praying we would die.  When
the darkness came, I thought that was finally it.”
 


He didn’t know when he had moved down next to her, nor
how she had come to be enfolded in his arms. 
He only realized Hermione’s tears were soaking the front of his shirt
as she tried to put words to the pain.  “I
couldn’t really feel it, not close up. 
It was more like a reality that I couldn’t quite grasp. 
She was the one who took the pain, took it for me. 
She always does.  It’s
funny though, I can still smell the stench of them on me. 
I scrubbed myself and I can still smell it.”
 


“You know, you’re the only man she trusts. 
She’ll never show it, never admit to a weakness like that. 
But, when we opened our eyes and you were there, she was so happy. 
While I was praying for death, she had been praying for you, and there
you were, our great angel in black.”
 


Severus smiled at that image.  “I don’t imagine anyone ever would paint me as an
angel.”
 


“I could never talk to Remus like this. 
He didn’t know what I was going through. 
Sirius said he wouldn’t understand the reasons, and that he would just
get himself in trouble.  So I never
told him.  I just lived in the
moment with him, didn’t think about the past or what the future was bringing.  I felt so safe with him, even though it was only for small
snatches of time.  He always gave
everything to me though, never held back anything from me. 
Even at the end, he gave me everything. 
I gave him nothing, I only took.”
 


Severus felt a lone tear slide down his cheek at the memory
of his dear friend.  “I imagine
you gave more to him than you know.  Even
if just the knowledge that somewhere there is someone to whom you belong
entirely to, mind, body, soul.  It’s
the greatest gift one can get. A treasure.”
 


He felt her short, bitter laugh at that. 
“Little did he know, I had sold my soul to Voldemort.”
 


Severus wove his fingers through her hair, studying the way
it curled around his fingers.  “No,
Hermione, you haven’t sold your soul.  It
was stolen from you.  I promise you
that I will find it and give it back to you. 
Somehow, it will be returned.”
 


“Now, I believe that Poppy ordered rest for you. 
You shall do just that.”  Gently,
he pushed her from him, to lie on the sofa. 
He made sure she was covered, and stood to move to his chair. 
“Sleep, Hermione.  I’ll
sit here and read.”
 


“Read to me, Seve jus just until I fall asleep.”
 


Severus walked to the bookshelves lining the far wall and
ran a finger over the books until he found the volume he wanted. 
He pulled the thick volume out and sat in his chair.
 


If questioning would make us wise
No eyes would ever gaze in eyes;
If all our tale were told in speech
No mouths would wander each to each.

Were spirits free from mortal mesh
And love not bound in hearts of flesh
No aching breasts would yearn to meet
And find their ecstasy complete.

For who is there that lives and knows
The secret powers by which he grows?
Were knowledge all, what were our need
To thrill and faint and sweetly bleed?
 


Severus looked up to see
she slept.  Hermione’s face was
peaceful, a slight smile lifting the corners of her mouth. 
He lowered his voice and finished roughly.

Then seek not, sweet, the "If" and "Why"
I love you now until I die.
For I must love because I live
And life in me is what you give.
 


He allowed himself the luxury of watching her
uninterrupted; the book lay forgotten in his lap. 
His mind turned their conversation round and round, examining it,
memorizing it.  He would see her
soul returned; but for the meantime, at least, she was holding his.
 


Severus didn’t know how long he watched her before his
eyes closed, only that they were both startled from their sleep by the book
hitting the floor.  Darkness had
moved across the windows high on the wall and night was upon them.
 


Hermione stretched, arching her back with a slight moan. 
Severus immediately moved to her side, “Are you in pain?” 
 


“No, just stiff.  You
know, this sofa isn’t exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep on.”
 


Severus laughed and got up to light the fire. 
“You never complained any other time.”
 


“Yes, well, I suppose last night might have a bit of
something to do with my stiff back.  Hold
on, let me try that.”  With a wave
of her finger, the sconces around the room flared to life. 
“See that, I’m feeling better already.”
 


They shared a light supper while discussing their subject
matter for Monday’s students.  After
a brief, lighthearted argument about his gruff classroom manor, Hermione left to
wash up and change.  She returned
with a puzzled look on her face, “Did you know it’s almost 10 o’clock? 
What happened to the clock out here?”
 


Severus changed the subject very quickly, “Then I believe
you should be retiring for the night.  You
may have regained some of your powers, but only rest will restore them
completely.”
 


“Well, you haven’t exactly had an easy couple of days
yourself, I think you had better not be far behind, Severus.”
 


He waited until he heard the bathroom door close and the
water begin running.  Severus
reached below the bed to pull out the trundle and then turned down both beds. 
He heard her annoying cat calling to her, having just entered through the
magically camouflaged cat door she had made Severus create. 
Before the cat had a chance to alert his mistress, Severus stomped over
to the fireplace and called for his meal.  He
set it down on the floor.  Crookshanks
walked stiffly over to the dish and eyed Severus suspiciously before beginning
his meal.
 


“That’s a good cat. 
Think you’re gonna get in there and spread more blasted orange hair all
over my clean clothes??  I think
not.”  Severus walked into the
bedroom and shut the door.  For good
measure, he cast a silencing spell, just in case the cat decided to start it’s
grating cries for his mistress.
 


No sooner was his task complete, than the bathroom door
opened and Hermione came out wrapped in a warm fleece robe. 
“Severus, will you light the fire before you change?”
 


Severus walked to the hearth and in the blink of an eye,
had a roaring blaze going.  He left
to shower and change, emerging a short time later in fleece pants and the usual
black tee. He extinguished the lights and turned to her. Hermione was in bed,
lying on her side facing the door.  He
looked down to where the trundle had been when he left and then looked back at
her.
 


Hermione smiled shyly and pulled back the covers, issuing a
silent invitation.  Not trusting his
voice right now, he slid into the bed beside her.  He turned on his side toward her, fully expecting her to turn
the same way and resume her position of the previous night. 
She didn’t, though. 
 


Hermione’s eyes studied his, searching for something. 
She brought a tentative hand up and pushed his hair back from his face. 
Stopping to thread her fingers through it. 
Her eyes moved to study it, much as he had hers earlier. 
 


Once again, she studied his expression. 
“Help me erase their stench, Severus. Help me to forget, if only for
tonight.”  She moved a bit closer
then, her legs finding his beneath the heavy blankets. 
“Help me to li
&n
 


With a smooth movement, she was on her back beneath him. 
He studied her mouth, tracing the bottom lip with trembling thumb before
moving ever so slowly to capture it.  The
softness parted immediately, needing no prodding. 
Her tongue found his tentatively, inviting his to join her. 
Hermione’s arms came up around his back, and began to explore, roaming
up and down the rough fabric. 
 


Tentative fingers found the bottom of his shirt and pulled
up on it, craving the feel of bare skin.  His
lips left hers, and the low rumble that moved through her screamed at the loss.
Severus sat back and pulled the fabric up and off. 
Hermione raised herself up, lifting her arms over her head, allowing him
the freedom to slide her gown, ever so slowly, up her body. 
It joined his on the floor, forgotten. 
With a desperate cry she drug him down to cover her body once again. 
At the touch of flesh on flesh, she moaned and arched her back, trying to
imprint his body on hers. 
 


Severus traced a path with his mouth, tasting the skin of
her neck, pausing to suck gently in the hollow softness of her neck. 
His hands reached down to find hers and he twined their fingers together. 
He lifted her hands to the pillow and left them there, allowing fuller
access to her body.
 


Lowering his head, he resumed his tastings. 
A nibbled search uncovered her nipple. 
He pulled it deeply into his mouth, peaking it. 
Another moan found it’s way from her mouth straight to his groin. 
Capturing the other breast, he mirrored the attentions. Once again a plea
slipped from her.  His body was
screaming in response. 
 


His hands moved lower, expecting to find her properly
clothed.  When he discovered she was
bare, his head rose and he found her face with a smile. 
She rose from the pillow to claim his mouth, dragging him down with her
again.  Her arms were again
clutching him desperately.
 


Hermione rubbed circles slowly down his back and growled in
frustration as she encountered flannel and not flesh.  A whispered  word
into his mouth and her impediment disappeared.
 


More confident now, her hands resumed their path and pulled
him closer, grinding her wet need up against the hotness lying on her hip. 
It was his turn to moan.  At
almost the same time hands found their goal. 
She stroked, he plunged, she squeezed, he rubbed. 
They kept pace together, mimicking an ultimate desire, until they were
both close to the edge.
 


Again, his fingers found hers and pried them loose from his
throbbing flesh.  A slight shift of
her hips, though and he was begging for entrance. 
A swift stroke saw him home.  She
wrenched her hands free of his, and wrapped him tightly in her arms. 
With a mimicked movement, he lifted her from the bed to slip strong arms
beneath her.  They clung together,
rocking, reaching, and climbing as one soul. 
Suddenly, his movements stilled and released her back against the sheets. 
While still joined at the waist, he fused them together at the eyes. 
Reverent kisses were showered across her face before indulging themselves
in her mouth again. When it was safe to do so, he began to move again, slowly,
savoring each pull. Her hips answered his with the same deliberate movements.
 


He broke away from her mouth to study the emotions painted
across her face. They remained locked as one, both resisting the urge to throw
their head back and give in to the driving need.  They rode together in the dancing shadows as one being.
 


Severus watched her go over first, smiling as he heard his
given name slip softly from her lips.  His
own climax answered her cry, dark eyes still locked to hers. 
“Meus Conjugium.”***
  The endearment fell tenderly
from his mouth.
 


They continued their soft explorations of each other, long
after he had slipped from her body.  Soft
kisses, gentle caresses all carried off into the darkness of the night, as two
hearts slowed their twin tempo. 
 


Finally, Severus noted the fatigue in her eyes and rolled
to the side, carrying her with him.  Hermione
settled herself against his chest and traced lazy circles through the dusting of
hair on it. 
 


In the firelight, they lay sated, still entangled with each
other.  No words were spoken, only
the occasional contended sigh broke the silence. 
Finally, they surrendered themselves to the comforting sleep that follows
such a fusion of two beings.
 


 


 


***meus -a -um [my , mine];  conjugium, conjugi(i)  N 
N  marriage/wedlock; husband/wife; couple;
 


I don’t know if this is “proper” latin, but it sounds
good to me.