The Ties that Lead to Trust

Chapter 19~ New and Old

Hermione knew she was dreaming, but grasped at the last vestiges of sleep anyway. The warm summer sun was beating down on the moor and she was laying amongst the lightly scented wildflowers, watching fluffy clouds pass by above her. The gentle breeze caressed her skin and when she looked up again, a cloud of butterflies drifted down towards her. Hundreds of tiny feet tickled her skin as they walked over her, beating their little wings. Unable to stop herself from squirming, she discovered that the butterflies had stopped moving and the dream was rapidly fading away. Opening her eyes, she saw a pair of dark ones gazing down at her. Severus. She let out a low humming sigh and stretched.

“Morning,” she said sleepily.

His eyes held a small twinkle of amusement she didn’t often see. “A good dream?”

“Wonderful. How did you know?” she questioned. His hands were lightly moving over her bare skin, raising gooseflesh and making her skin tingle.

“Dreams are usually very close to the surface of the mind. It doesn’t even take conscious effort to sense the emotions of them if you have practised Legilimency as long as I have. I promise I wasn’t trying.”

She gave him a fishy look. “Were you planting ideas in my mind?”

“What makes you think that?”

She twitched when the feathery touches of his fingers found a particularly sensitive spot. “That does. You made all those butterflies in my dream, didn’t you?”

Severus looked amused, “I wouldn’t know what you are talking about.”

“I know you can lie better than that. Obviously you aren’t trying. Ulterior motives perhaps?” She was smiling, too amused to be annoyed by what he had been doing.

“No!” he said far too quickly and emphatically.

Boldly snaking a hand down his front, she toyed with the curly hair at the base of his shaft before running a hand along is hardened length. He twitched eagerly in her hand.

“No?” she asked very quietly.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Good morning,” She smiled and continued to stroke him, teasing him with frustratingly light touches.

He groaned and pulled himself closer, wrapping his arms around her. Kissing the top of her head he said, “It is a good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“Mm-hm. I feel great. You?” she said serenely.

“Pleased you stayed. Regrets?” he asked softly.

Fleetingly she remembered the words he had spoken the previous night. She settled herself in his arms, and covered his heart with her hands. “Only one.”

He tried to pull away, but she held him. “ I regret running away. I didn’t want this, tried to avoid you, when term started in September. You have been far too patient with me, but I am glad you were and happy to be with you. More so than I had thought possible.”

Severus seemed unable to find words. Cupping her face, he kissed her with such perfect tenderness she felt tears threatening to leak out the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t prepared to say ‘love’ openly just yet, and perhaps he wasn’t either, but a silent understanding was there. As with so many things in the past months, words weren’t always necessary.

Her shyness seemed to have faded completely with the intimacy of the previous night, and Hermione kissed back with a fervour that surprised them both. The gentle hands about her face twined themselves in her sleep dishevelled hair. She pressed herself against the full length of his firm body, enjoying the feel of skin on skin. Rocking her hips against him, Severus responded in kind and made a low noise of want when he felt the wetness of her arousal on his excited member. Already highly aroused from her dream, she felt the need for completion. Urgently pressing herself against his erection, she moaned softly in frustration when he backed away and returned against her in mimicry of passionate intimacy.

Unable to bear the torturous teasing, she pushed him on his back and straddled his hips. After an awkward failed attempt, he helped guide her down onto his eagerly waiting hardness. With a sigh of satisfaction, she closed her eyes and let herself become accustomed to the different sensations. She could feel herself stretch to accommodate his size, filled completely. His hands caressed her legs and hips, savouring the silky skin before urging her to move. Slowly, eyes still closed, she raised herself to the end of his length and pushed down again. He let out a ragged breath and Hermione opened her eyes to look at him. He wasn’t looking at her face. His gaze was rivetted to her slender body moving against his.

Enjoying the delightful investigation of the different angles this position afforded, she felt her body drawn into a steady, irresistible rhythm. Each time she rocked back against him, she could feel the pleasant tension building, urging her onward. Severus’ touch travelled upwards to her breasts, before trailing down to their joining. Their eyes locked in stillness, despite the continued rocking of their bodies, as a single digit snaked through the curly hair and over the swollen nub. She cried out and ground down on him hard. Breaking eye contact, she leaned back and increased the pace of her thrusts, gasping and moaning while he worked the heated skin around her most sensitive place. Soon she was overcome by the intense burst of delicious tension. Giving in to the overpowering sensations, he found his release as her body trembled around him.

Replete, her muscles quivering, Hermione collapsed against Severus. Arms came about her, holding her while the shaking ebbed. His voice rumbled in her ear. “I’m glad you came back.”
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It was late morning when Hermione finally arrived in the main room showered and dressed. Feeling refreshed and alive, she moved to the dining room door with the intention of opening it wide and letting the outside light pour in, but something by the fireplace caught her eye. A large ball of orange fur lay curled up beside the glowing embers of the dampened fire. Crookshanks raised his head sleepily and blinked at her. The cat yawned widely and raised himself to his feet as if it were a labourious task. Hermione smiled and bent down to pick him up. He squirmed for a moment, then placed his paws on her shoulders and purred against her neck. Instead of enjoying her morning tea, she made herself comfortable on the sofa and enjoyed a quiet cuddle with Crookshanks.

Severus entered the room shortly after and was surprised to find Hermione sitting by the fireplace stroking the ginger cat. “Is that your cat?”

Hermione looked up from the rumbling feline. “Yes, though I have no idea how he found his way down here. He usually comes and goes as he pleases from my rooms. Crookshanks is pretty independent.”

“And quite clever to have made it through the wards,” he said. Crookshanks looked up at Severus and leapt down to the floor, rubbing up against the man’s leg.

Hermione smiled and stood, “I think he likes you. Shall we?”

After breakfast, each spent the day in quiet, individual pursuits. Hermione was busy with what little holiday work she hadn’t yet completed and Severus was reviewing the preliminary clinical trial results of his medicinal salve. From all indications, tests were going well and a new batch would be needed, but he felt the school year too busy a time to prepare the potion again. At dinner, Hermione announced that she was finished all her assignments and she was relieved to be free to enjoy the rest of her holiday. That night, they walked outside in the crisp night air enjoying the clear light of a nearly full moon before warming themselves by the fire, drinking hot cider.

The week preceding Christmas was more enjoyable than Hermione had imagined. Severus brought out an old wireless of uncertain vintage, and they listened to festive music while playing chess. Hermione coaxed him up to the room of requirement and laughed at his look of bewilderment when he opened the door to find a small kitchen filled with baking supplies. Donning a bright red apron, she bustled about the room explaining that doing your own holiday baking was traditional. Despite his initial look of dismay, Severus turned out to be an excellent cook and used magic in the kitchen much more naturally than she. In fact, his skill appeared to rival Mrs Weasley’s. Several hours later they emerged from the room smiling, if somewhat dusted in flour, with tins full of mincemeat tarts and biscuits of all kinds.

On Christmas eve, several owls arrived with packages from home and the Burrow. Even Fawkes made an appearance with a brightly wrapped gift for Severus, which she placed under the tree with the others. That night, Hermione sat on the floor in her pyjamas with Crookshanks on her lap. The tree was lit and the greenery in the room smelled like a pine forest. Severus looked so content, sitting back with his fingers wrapped around a steaming mug of cider.

“This is much nicer than the family get together at my Grandmother’s. I always wonder why she does it every year. So many people in one place must be very trying at her age,” she told him.

He looked down at her slightly surprised. “From what you have told me, she sounds a great deal like Molly Weasley. People like that always seem to want others around. I’m glad, however, that you don’t seem to be one of those people.”

She shook her head. “Definitely not. I like a party as much as anyone, but I always feel overwhelmed when there are too many people. I’m really glad that my parents always insisted on spending Christmas day at home.”

“And do you wake up especially early on Christmas morning?” he asked

Hermione laughed aloud. “Not ever. Dad would always have to wake me up. I would stay up very late on Christmas eve, hoping to see Father Christmas and then sleep late. Mum always had breakfast on the table and wouldn’t let me open presents until after.”

Severus put down his mug and joined her on the soft rug, wrapping an arm around her waist. His voice was soft, “Are you going to stay up late waiting for Father Christmas tonight?”

“I haven’t for some time, and going to bed with you is a much nicer idea than staying up alone, pretty as the tree is,” she replied nudging him. Crookshanks moved onto Severus’ lap and began to purr loudly. Unconsciously he stroked the cat’s soft fur.

Shortly after, the cat vacated his lap and moved to the warmed cushion on the sofa. Hermione sighed in amusement and stood up. Without a word, they left the room and went to bed. With a gentle goodnight kiss, both snuggled under the covers and eased into a peaceful sleep.

When Hermione woke, it was to the delicious odours of a hot breakfast. Nudging the door closed with his foot, Severus smiled when he saw her awake and said, “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas,” she smiled back. “What is all this?”

“An intelligent woman like yourself should be able to recognise breakfast in bed,” he teased.

“Hmm, that’s a new tradition I could get used to.”

“I thought you might enjoy it.”

As Severus settled onto the bed with the tray, an expectant feline appeared at the foot of the bed. Crookshanks settled himself between them and looked up expectantly. Obviously he felt himself entitled to breakfast in bed as well. Hermione gave him a piece of bacon, which he took eagerly and retreated back to the foot of the bed to devour his prize. Severus chuckled, “I generally don’t take to animals, but your cat has quite the unique personality.”

Hermione smiled and helped herself to some toast. “I’ll have you know he is an excellent judge of character. Dislikes rats intensely, but is quite fond of other animals. I hope you don’t mind that he has just made himself at home in your rooms.”

“Your cat is as welcome here as you are. I wouldn’t mind if he decided to take up permanent residence. I spend far too much time on my own,” Severus told her then became very focussed on his bacon.

“I expect he finds your accommodations quite comfortable, but I must warn you. Once he discovers a place to his liking, he may never leave,” she informed him and trained her gaze on the cat in question.

Severus could tell she was no longer talking about the cat either and said softly, “I hope so.”

She looked up and they held each other’s eyes. A silent moment of understanding passed between them before returning to their meal. Hermione shifted a little closer to enjoy the incidental brush and nudge of his arm that happened naturally when two people sat too close together.

Quite awake by now, they dressed and went out to enjoy the tree in the main room and open presents. The open door to the dining room let in brilliant sunlight, and Severus closed it so they could enjoy the warm glow of the tree. As they unwrapped the brightly coloured packages, Crookshanks batted paper around the room in obvious delight. Hermione’s package contained pretty much what she expected, bright red pyjamas with snowflakes on them and a number of bubble baths and salts. Her parents weren’t aware that she already had such things at her disposal as it was a detail she had ignored when they asked about her new rooms. Severus looked up at her, holding a thick pair of emerald green socks, and joked, “I take it your pyjamas from home meet your expectations as much as my socks from Albus?”

Her eyes twinkled with mirth. “You get socks from Albus? I should have known. Yes, the festive flannel has returned for yet another year. It’s not that I mind, but why always Christmas patterns?”

He smiled back. “Well the colour of the socks is a bit of a surprise this year. He usually sends black. Here, this is for you.”

Taking the box covered in silver paper he had given her, she shook it and turned it over a couple times. Severus was watching her expectantly. “Well I have to at least try to guess what is in it.”

Carefully removing the paper, she opened the box and smiled more broadly than before. Lifting the wine coloured satin nightgown and holding it to herself, she giggled a bit. His expression was a bit shocked and she tried to explain. “It’s lovely, and my favourite colour. Open that green box over there,” she gestured, “and you’ll understand.”

Less patient with the paper, Severus pulled it away and discovered a pair of pyjamas the same green as his bed hangings. The material was deliciously soft to the touch, like silk, but thicker and warmer. A chuckle rose from his throat. “Very nice. It seems Albus is out of a job. These are much nicer. Thank you.”

Much of what was under the tree was expected, books, chocolate and such, but Hermione felt on the verge of crying when she opened the package from Mrs Weasley and found a new jumper, dark blue with a large H on the front. Even knowing it would look silly, she pulled the warm woolen garment on over her robes.

After opening the packages, Hermione sat back on the sofa beside Severus to read the cards and letters that had come with the gifts. She felt a little delinquent for doing so after opening the gifts themselves, but this was her Christmas and she could do so if she wished. Severus put an arm around her and they sat close, each reading through holiday greetings. There was the expected long ramble from Mrs Weasley about everything from the twins’ latest misdemeanours to pictures from Bill, who had moved to France with Fleur during the summer. Harry’s was a short note and Ginny’s slightly longer and strangely cryptic, but the biggest surprise came from her parents.

As usual, they had sent a card with a whimsical holiday scene on the front. On the inside, the usual long message was short and less than merry.

My Dearest Daughter,
I hope this card finds you well. I know you are very busy sweety,
but try to poke your head through the fire, however it is you do that,
in the afternoon sometime. We should be home around 4.
With Love,
Daddy

Hermione read over the short text again, perplexed. Severus leaned closer and scanned the message. “Don’t your parents usually stay home on Christmas day?”

She nodded, “They do, and they never ask me to floo. I usually make a point of doing so sometime during the holiday. I wonder if something is wrong.”

“Perhaps it is big news. Something that doesn’t belong on a card,” He suggested, not really believing it himself and frowning slightly at his own small stack of cards and letters.

Hermione shrugged and set the card on the small table. “I don’t suppose I will find out until later.”

“True enough,” Severus glanced at the clock to see the morning had escaped them almost entirely. “If we want to be on time for Christmas dinner, we had best be going.”

She looked up at the clock herself and nodded. “Give me a minute. I’d just like to smarten up a little.”

Hermione disappeared for a few minutes and returned looking revitalized. Her hair was slightly less unruly and the Weasley jumper had been left behind. Severus took her in his arms for a long, slow kiss, before taking her hand and leading them out of the dungeons. As they left the room, Hermione allowed herself to forget about the card for the time being.
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