Delicate

Chapter Two: Close Quarter Discoveries







Oh, girl I\'ve known you very well

I\'ve seen you growing everyday

I never really looked before

but now you take my breath away





Hermione Granger the student had been relatively easy to figure out, Severus thought as he watched her kneeling on the floor unpacking the boxes to his study/library. The large room was the last of the house that needed unpacking aside from his labs and they were the only two rooms that required them to unpack and sort by hand due to the volatile nature of many of its contents.







As a student she was an obvious over achiever whose drive to be the best made her slightly less than likable most of the time. There were times when he wondered if those idiot friends of hers truly liked her or if they simply tolerated her because she made certain that they passed their courses. Hermione Granger the woman was something else all together.







She was a complete enigma to him despite the previous two years of friendship between them. He never wanted to become friends with a woman again, in truth he didn’t care to have friends at all. Friends equaled attachment which in his experience equaled inevitable disappointment and heartbreak. But the feisty little witch hadn’t cared that he had barriers and boundaries firmly in place and she had barreled through them like a battering ram, working her way into his life and unfortunately into his abused heart.







He still didn’t understand what made her come to tend him that night years before. He had been intent on wasting away, seeking out the death that had been denied him by Potter\'s interference. He was tired, in pain and humiliated by his helplessness. But there she was, storming in with her wild curls and wicked temper, blocking his insults and retorting with that smart mouth of hers. But instead of treating him like an invalid she treated him like a man with respect for his pride, with respect for him and all he had done.







Instead of coddling him she forced him to move and begin living, to begin taking control over his life again. In truth, she brought him back to life. She would tend to him carefully but she never let him get to her, never let him chase her away, she simply turned his bad behavior back on him, often making him laugh at the absurdity of it all. She didn’t want to idolize him, she didn’t try to make up for the wrongs of his past, she was simply there. There to talk, to help, to be his friend.







Friendships were not easy for him as they never seemed to end well and always seemed somewhat one sided to him. He certainly didn’t understand what made her wish to be his friend. As their relationship grew and their friendship deepened he came to realize certain truths that he had either failed to see or simply ignored in the two \'real\' friendships in his life. His friendship with Lily had been based on his knowledge of the wizarding world. He had been there to explain to a young, frightened little girl what her true nature was and he was something familiar to hold on to as she assimilated into the new world being revealed to her. When she was comfortable and adjusted she walked away from him, her loyalty given to his tormenters. His friendship with Albus had been based on what he could provide for the old man, what he could do for the order and in the end he wound up with one more dark mark on a soul so badly scarred that there was no hope for it. Neither of them had loved him, not really. In his mind and in his heart he felt used by them both, used and easily discarded because he failed to live up to their ideals.











Hermione was different. She didn’t seem to want anything from him. She never asked him for anything other than his company. She would write to him every evening, telling him of school and discussing new and interesting finds in the world of magic, but she never asked him for a thing. When they would visit over holidays she was always content with his company, never trying to force him into uncomfortable social situations or anything that she knew would be unpleasant for him. More often than not they simply sat talking, or arguing, though she preferred to call it a passionate debate. And he believed that she truly cared about him, that she...loved...him.





Often, when he was still confined to his bed and frequently ingesting pain potions, he would drift off to sleep in her company. It wasn’t meant to be rude or insulting to her, it was simply a reaction to the potions and a result of a body wearing itself out recovering from what should have been fatal injuries. One night, shortly after he had drifted off listening to the soothing sound of her voice reading to him from a book of Poetry he felt her presence near him, smelled the soft powdery scent that clung to her and then, to his complete amazement he felt the softness of her lips pressed against his brow. It was so light, the contact feather soft and brief, but it was there. She had kissed him and then softly whispered goodnight, Severus before leaving him. It became routine on the nights he would succumb to the potion and his own weariness that he would feel the soft warmth of her lips on his brow and wonder. Why? Why did she show him such affections when she thought him sleeping? She rarely even touched him when he was awake unless it was to aide him or because he was escorting her.







He wondered what she would say if she knew how often he faked sleep in order to receive her tender affection. Would she be offended? Would she pity a man so desperate for affection that he would fake slumber to receive it? He had been questioning the gesture since the habit began, wondering why she did it and wondering even more why he allowed it. He knew that if she were to kiss him when he was awake he would instinctively recoil, probably lash out and he knew she would expect it so maybe that was her reasoning too....but why kiss him at all?









There were times when he caught her eyes and thought he saw something there, something different, something deeper but she would immediately cast her eyes downward, never holding his gaze for longer than a fleeting moment. It was probably just his imagination, some miniscule part of him that wished for something normal, that wished for love. It wasn\'t going to happen, he knew that. He wasn’t the sort of man who could accept or give love, not the way it was meant to be shared. For him, love was a dark, nearly obsessive thing, like him. For him, love meant possession, owning that person body and soul.









It was what drove Lily away, what drove countless other women away. Not that he had ever loved anyone other than Lily, but he had certainly tried to have relationships with women, they just never seemed to work out. It was always the same, his needs were too dark and too demanding and the women were either unable or unwilling to fulfill them.







It was probably for the best. No decent witch deserved to be tied to a man like him. Certainly not one like Hermione. She was so young, vibrant and…joyful. He had never seen a witch smile the way she did. Her curiosity and eager mind were a tribute to her as well as the fact that he could talk to her for hours without being bored to tears. In that same vein he could sit in silence with her and still not find himself stiff with boredom, her company proving to be both soothing and stimulating.







He cast her a sideward glance and his lips twitched with the urge to smile. She was unpacking a box of books, carefully placing them in small piles around her as though they were precious treasures instead of dusty old bundles of leather and parchment. She was quite lovely, having grown in to herself during her time at university. Curls that were once coarse and frizzy now lay to the middle of her back in soft, silky waves. Her figure had once been lanky and awkward but now boasted a certain womanly softness that was alluring and…distracting.





She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and used her wand to vanish yet another empty crate before pushing to her feet. She staggered as the blood rushed to her legs and set her off balance after so long in one position. Severus reached for her instinctively, one hand on her waist to steady her and the other clasping her upper arm.







“Are you alright?” He asked, watching her eyes lower to avoid meeting his gaze directly.







“I’m fine, but my legs are asleep!” She laughed as the tingling, tickling feeling permeated her legs. The sound of her laughter warmed him and made him think of water rolling over smooth stones. “You are rather spry to get to me so quickly,” she chuckled, slowly moving away from him.





“I didn’t think much about it, I merely wished to prevent you from injuring yourself,” he released her arm and watched her curiously as she rubbed the spot his fingers had touched almost reverently. She was dressed casually, as she almost always was, in denim shorts and a loose fitting knit shirt. Her manner of dress had always puzzled him but as his hand slid away from her waist he felt the tell tale stiffness of corset boning. Why on earth would she be wearing a corset beneath her clothing? Muggle clothing especially. He might have been tempted to ask her but while he didn’t claim to be a great gentleman he knew that it was more than improper to ask a woman, with whom he shared no intimacy, about her underwear.





“I am fine, Severus, thank you,” she smiled, bending low to retrieve the books she had stacked on the floor. She placed them carefully on the shelves, adjusting them until her aesthetic sense was satisfied.







“Are you certain that you will be happy here, Hermione?” He asked suddenly, shocking himself as well as her. She turned her head and glanced briefly at him over her shoulder, her eyes holding his for no longer than a few seconds.







“Already sick of my company?” She asked.







“Not at all, it is just that you are so young it occurred to me that you might find living with an old man rather boring,” he said, his brow furrowed.







“I have never been young,” she scoffed, turning back to her task. “What I find boring are endless nights of beer consumption followed by vomiting and public urination.” She laughed softly and shook her head, “No, I shall not be bored here. I think that quiet evenings and intellectual conversation will be quite welcome.”







“Do you not mean incessant arguing?” He smirked, pleased to hear that she was happy with her choice to live in his home.







“Passionate debate.” She corrected with a smile, returning to her knees and dragging another large box towards her. “Arguing implies negativity, our debates are not negative, but a meeting of the minds. I find it quite stimulating,” she said, reaching for a knife to slice through the tape sealing the box.







“As do I, despite the fact that your opinions are often colored by sentimentality.” He drawled, concealing his smirk by turning towards the shelving.







“You are deliberately goading me,” she laughed, opening the box. She stared in amazement at a box filled with vinyl record albums. “What in the world is this?” She lifted the first album out of the box and stared at the cover, surprised to see that it was Pink Floyd.







“Ah, that would be my record collection,” he said smiling as he moved to a large cabinet beneath the window. When she had first seen it she had thought it was a cabinet, perhaps something to keep his liquor in, but had learned differently when she lifted the center of the top and found a turntable inside.







“I never knew you were so in to music.” She said, amazed as she flipped through the titles. “I love music!”







“What you people listen to today is not music, its noise,” Severus snarked over his shoulder. Hermione chuckled and kept rifling through the albums. His collection was astonishing, she had no idea he was a fan of classic rock. Aerosmith, The Rolling Stones, Kiss, Fleetwood Mac, The Grateful Dead, The Beatles, and so many more.







“Well, my taste in music isn’t the same as my friends,” she said. Her eyes lit up and her smile caught his attention as she pulled an album from the box and turned it towards him. “The BeeGees? Really, Severus?” He took the album from her and held it up, smiling at the brightly colored cover. He slid the record from the sleeve and set the cover aside, blowing gently across the shiny black surface to clear away any dust before placing it onto the turntable.







“The BeeGees were incomparable once upon a time,” he defended, turning a knob then lifting the arm and aligning the needle with the track he wanted.







“Somehow you don’t strike me as the kind of man who once hung around in discos,” she was still on her knees, her grin wide and toothy.







“There was always more to me than anyone knew,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting as the song began. “Shall I show you?” He extended his hand and she stared at it as though she had never seen a man’s hand before.







“What….dance? You dance?” She croaked and swallowed hard.







“I do, quite well in fact.” He waited patiently and finally she laid her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet, the sounds of More Than a Woman coming from the speakers.







“I never imagined…” she sucked in a sharp breath when he laid his hand on her waist and pulled her in front of him.







“Hermione?” He said her name softly and she squeaked out a little ‘yes’. “You didn’t really think I was going to dance to this did you?” It took a few moments for his comment to register because she was distracted by the scent of him so close to her, but when it did she gave him a little shove and went back to the box of albums.







“That wasn’t funny,” she said. His dark chuckle had her fighting a grin. His laughter was something she rarely heard and it always made her feel warm inside when she did.







“I am capable of dancing,” he said, smirking slightly as he crouched down on the other side of the box. “While I can appreciate some of the music of the disco era, the dancing left a lot to be desired….as did the fashion.”







He was level with her for only a moment before she shifted off of her knees and onto her bottom, her eyes shifting downward once more. He narrowed his eyes, his curiosity over her unusual behavior and lack of eye contact becoming stronger. Something had changed with her after last summer, at least in regards to him. She began acting ‘differently’ towards him, always avoiding eye contact, always making certain that her head was lower than his and never equal or above…it was almost as if….no, he shook that thought off as quickly as it came. There was no way that she was…..was she? She certainly didn’t behave that way with other men, he had seen her go nose to nose with her friends often enough. Was it possible that she recognized his nature and it sparked a response in hers?







He didn’t have time to ponder it further, her stomach growled and she laughed nervously, pressing her hand to her tummy.







“I should go make us some dinner,” she said softly.







“You don’t have to do that, you know. I didn’t invite you here this summer to be my servant,” he said, watching the change in her breathing, the little hitch in the rise and fall of her chest.







“I-I’m cooking for myself anyhow, there’s no reason I shouldn’t prepare enough for the two of us,” she stammered. He watched as she pulled her knees beneath her and edged backwards on all fours a few feet before she was willing to rise to her full height, her eyes always on the ground in front of her. “I’ll call for you when it is ready,” she said, moving backwards through the door before turning to walk away.







He stroked his chin as he thought on what had occurred, on how her responses to him had changed over the years. Surely he was reading more into her behavior than was warranted; there was no way that Hermione Granger was a submissive…….

















More Than a Woman by The BeeGees







Oh, girl I\'ve known you very well

I\'ve seen you growing everyday

I never really looked before

but now you take my breath away.



Suddenly you\'re in my life

part of everything I do

you got me working day and night

just trying to keep a hold on you.



Here in your arms I found my paradise

my only chance for happiness

and if I lose you now I think I would die.



Oh say you\'ll always be my baby

we can make it shine, we can take forever

just a minute at a time.



More than a woman, more than a woman to me

more than a woman, more than a woman to me

more than a woman, oh, oh, oh.



There are stories old and true

of people so in love like you and me

and I can see myself

let history repeat itself.



Reflecting how I feel for you

thinking \'bout those people then I know

that in a thousand years

I\'d fall in love with you again.



This is the only way that we should fly

this is the only way to go

and if I lose your love I know I would die.



Oh say you\'ll always be my baby

we can make it shine, we can take forever

just a minute at a time.



More than a woman, more than a woman to me

more than a woman, more than a woman to me

more than a woman, oh, oh, oh.