Mirror, Mirror

Mirror, Mirror

Chapter 20 – Notes from the Dark Side of the Moon

It all belongs to Rowling, except what you don’t recognize.


It was just Snape and the sheep. He’d rented the croft because without a job his pension didn’t go very far. It had been too expensive living in London at the Leaky Cauldron. The croft didn’t leak, but it was both claustrophobic and agoraphobic at the same time. Because it was a tiny place in the middle of a vast landscape, one could sit inside and feel the walls come rushing in on you, yet step outside and feel as if one was about to tumble off the face of the planet. It was all sky and water and raw emptiness. And it was freezing in the Highlands. Still he found it a relief that his small portion of the loch was totally desolate and in the evenings even the sheep were gone and he’d be left alone with the star strewn sky and turorurora Borealis playing above him.

It wasn’t really even a croft, thought Snape, more like a fishing cottage. The land seemed too stony to have ever been considered arable. The rental price had been right though, and when the Ministry’s owl had found him he immediately contacted his landlord and bought the place, knowing the price would go up once he found out that Snape was rich.

He had made himself at home in this small cottage on the banks of a very isolated loch in Northern Scotland. His time was spent in long walks and drinking himself to sleep every night. He didn’t bother with having a laboratory--that part of his life was over. He was going to very quietly, sedately, drink himself to death. And why? Well, why the Hell not? He’d had his moment in the sun, neither fame nor wealth had served to close up the hole in his spirit. The hole that had been there for as long as he could remember, from the childhood beatings at the hands of his step-father, to the beatings and hexes at Hogwarts by his house mates and later from the Marauders, to the crucios and beatings as a not-very-courageous Death Eater, to a final two weeks of torture by two Wizards, themselves being tortured for no other reason than they had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

At least he warranted all what was coming to him. Hadn’t that been the message repeated over and over again? You are worthless, and you don’t deserve anything good! So it made sense that the fame and money were no panacea for his pain. He did have a lovely case of fire whiskey though, tep hep him warm at night and to fend off the nightmares. And one day he knew that he’d get drunk enough to not feel a thing, not even the terror of drowning. He’d then walk into the loch and allow its cold, clean waters to close over his head. And that would be his reward for an ill begotten and misspent life that it would all finally come to an end.

However, there was no rush. In fact, with time perhaps even the desire to kill himself might not be worth the effort and he’d simply walk the hills and drink, and it would be sufficient unto his needs. And, yes, there was one more thing, one more mystery to keep him tied to this planet. Why, oh, why did Dr. Snape no longer have the dark mark on his arm, while he still had that faint shadow? This was a curiosity that he often pondered during his long, frigid walks on a landscape as harsh and empty as the moon.

Also he didn’t mind having to move to a larger vault at Gringotts to hold all his gold. And the word was in that he’d be receiving the Order of Merlin, (hopefully, oh please let it be, first class when they did finally award it.) However, there would be no honorary doctorates or being made peer of the realm. It was a trade off. He hadn’t actually invented the stuff after all.

So the watery death would keep. He was in no hurry. The loch wasn’t going anywhere.

Further, he was glad that he had his icy retreat to return to after the noise and madness of the fetes and the parties and the well wishing that had accompanied the release of information regarding the formula.
Though he hated the crowds and the food (the Wizarding world seemed to have only one catering service) and the speeches, he went to all the festivities in hopes of seeing her. And yes, she was always there and on Remus’ arm. Whenever Snape’s eyes accidentally met hers, she’d blush and turn away from him. And then Remus would look up at him and smile. To the victor go the spoils. He was handsome now. Funny, Snape didn’t remember him as being particularly good looking as a fellow student at Hogwarts. But now, no longer a victim of his curse, he just had that ‘glow’ to him: vitality, happiness, and that je ne sais quoi, that charismatic people had. They made a lovely couple and the thought wasn’t lost on the media. Pictures of Hermione Granger and Remus Lupin were everywhere in the Wizarding world. Which was just one more of the benefits of living in a crofter’s cottage on the banks of a godforsaken loch, no newspapers and no little reminders of the golden couple. Blessed isolation to run and run and run from the memories of the blade, and the rest of one’s stinking little life.

It was just one more evening feast amid many, but this time it was to celebrate yet another full moon and yet another group of newly made ex-lycanthropes. There were a half dozen of them, all looking remarkably healthy and beautiful in the moonlight. There was a band playing at the mansion holding the celebration, and Snape saw Remus get up and escort Hermione out to the terrace.

Snape got up, and didn’t stagger. No, he always held his drink in public. It was only late at night when he woke up from the nightmares that he needed to drink to excess.

The band was playing a waltz and he watched the couple stroll out onto the terrace. He casually walked to a window and saw the ex-werewolf take the girl in his arms and roundly kiss her.

Snape silently went to the cloakroom, took his outwear and Apparated home, to another very quiet evening by the peat fire with his friend, the fire whiskey bottle.

It was the next morning that he received the owl that changed his life.

&&&

Remus was nervous. He’d made the decision and tonight was the night. He asked her to come onto the terrace with him. It was a cold, clear night and the moon, that horrid orb which used to terrify him, glowed beautifully and eerily in the night sky. He cast a warming spell over them and led them out.

“Hermione, you look more beautiful every time I see you,” he tried to keep the huskiness from his voice, but it was still there.

She blushed, it was coming, and she knew it. He’d been building up to it for weeks and now it was coming. She swallowed and waited.

He took her in his arms and kissed her on the lips. It was his first time doing so, before then he’d confined himself to kissing her cheek or her hand. And the kiss went to his head like a fine wine, no, more like champagne, and he deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue ardently into her mouth. She didn’t fight him, so he took it as a good sign and brought her body closer, allowing her to feel his hardness pressing up against her belly. He wanted her to know what he’d kept hidden these past weeks, that he was very much a man who wanted her in all ways. He hungered to run his hands all over her body, but then he felt it or rather felt the lack. She wasn’t responding, there was no returning spark of lust from her. His heightened senses told him that, and the bubble burst.

Very slowly, very regretfully, he pulled away from her. His blue eyes met her brown ones and he found there all the confirmation he needed. She was sad, so very sad.

“Is it Severus, then?” he asked in dawning horror of the situation.

She nodded tearing up. “I’m sorry, Remus. I love you, but not that way.” She trembled in spite of the warmth of his spell and heat of his body. He gathered her up in his arms and held her lovingly.

“It will be all right,” he whispered tenderly. “Tell me what I can do to make things er?”er?”

And she cried. “I can’t. There’s nothing that can be done. He’s a horrid, horrid man and I...” She hiccupped and continued to cry.

“Well, yes, no one knows that better. He’s really quite awful. But you love him, that’s what you’re saying?”

“I don’t want to love him. I don’t know how it happened. But when I see him, he looks ill and so alone. Oooh, I hate myself for feeling like this. And I drove him away because I couldn’t stand it.”

“Hermione, if he’s what you truly want. Well, you’ve always been a clever girl, you will work it out.” Remus wished he wasn’t saying it. It hurt so much, especially since he couldn’t even blame it on his being a Lycanthrope and to lose out to one such as Severus Snape, well, well, what a disaster.

She smiled up at him through the tears. “I miss him.”

Remus smiled though he felt as if his heart were breaking. “Well, I guess maybe cupid will need to take a hand in this, eh?” And he kissed her on the forehead and wiped her tears with his handkerchief.

As soon as he got inside, he found Harry and headed off with him for a little chat.

&&&


Snape was sitting at The Leaky Cauldron drinking a fire whiskey and listening to the noises that human beings make. It was a change from the sheep. Suddenly, he found himself rigid and mute from a full body bind.

Harry and Remus slipped into his booth. Remus perched next to him and Harry was sitting across from him.

“Listen up and listen good,” grinned Harry pleasantly.

“This is a one-time offer only,” continued Remus. “It seems that Hermione is in love with you, not me. Poor taste on her part, I know. However, frailty thy name is woman, so there you have it in a nutshell.” Remus crossed his arms and sat back. He looked bereaved.

“You may be a disgusting blight on the face of Wizardry, but Hermione loves you. And we love her enough to want her to be happy.” Harry leaned forward, his green eyes flashing, “You get one chance to make things right with her, Snape, don’t bugger it! Item- a two lb. box of Mystic Magic chocolates,” said Harry, putting the ornately decorated container on the table.

“Item – one gift certificate to Flourish and Blotts,” said Remus, placing a pink and black envelope on top of the candy box.

“Iteone one expensive, simply delightful charm bracelet with eight working charms, charged to your account, Snape,” smirked Harry putting a black velvet covered box on the table next to the candy.

“And finally,” said Remus, sounding even sadder than before, “Item - Roses, blood red, long-stemmed two dozen. She is currently sitting at the Three Broomsticks wondering why she’s sitting alone, wondering what is taking Harry so long in the loo.”

Harry continued, “And if I know Hermione, and I do, she will wait exactly 15 minutes before either leaving in a huff or going into the Gents to find out if I’m all right.”

The two Wizards got up and walked to the entrance of the pub.

“Finite Incantantum” said Harry, and they ran out into Diagon Alley as fast as their legs could take them, just in case Snape chose to fire off a few hexes.

Snape sat there. He looked blankly at the roses, chocolates, charm bracelet, and gift certificate. He sat there about three minutes, and then he cursed, “Oh, Bloody Hell!”

He stuck the jewelry box and envelope in his robe’s pocket, took the roses and put it under his arm along with the chocolates and strode over to the floo. Tom watched with his mouth hanging open.

“Not a word, Tom, not a word!” threatened Snape as he took a handful of powder and threw it in, “Three Broomsticks” and disappeared.

&&&

Harry and Remus were walking down the Alley. “So the other Harry left you all these notes in your coat pocket and you only found them this morning can can’t believe it. So tell me again. The name of my wife in the other realm is…”

“Crystal Sweetwater,” replied Harry.

“I think I’m in love all ready. What a name. Did he say what’s she like?” asked Remus.

“Drop Dead Gorgeous according this and she’s planning to be a Nursery School Teacher after she leaves Gringotts.”

Remus shook his head in wonder. “And for you? You said he also left you some advice?”

Harry blushed, “According to this note, Lavender has a second cousin, a Miss Delilah Brown. She’s a Titian haired American from New Orleans! And she’s over on a visa for this year. My counterpart says she can barely keep her hands off him even though he’s married.”

“Oh my.” A low growl escaped from Remus’ throat. “Well, let’s go look them up then!”

&&&

Hermione was tapping her foot under the table. She wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or worried. Something had very definitely been up with Harry, and after her having to hurt Remus last night she was nervous that perhaps something else awful was about to happen. Then her body went rigid. It was that sixth sense she had alerting her to whenever he was near. She looked up and stifled a small scream of pleasure.

“Severus?” She blushed and looked away from him, suddenly afraid of what her emotions might cause her to reveal.

He sat down at her table and put the box of chocolate and roses down on it.

“What’s is this?” Hermione asked, quite forgetting that they were no longer on speaking terms.

“I believe I’m supposed to say ‘sweets for the sweet’ or something equally insipid. Or perhaps, ‘I have seen roses damasked, red and white, but no such roses see I in her cheeks’.” He smiled but it was empty of warmth.

“Shakespearean sonnets, I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be, so I passed my Muggle Studies.” He was staring at her.

“I don’t understand, but I’m grateful you are here. I’ve been worried about you.”

“Indeed.” He laughed harshly. “Worried enough to have your lover and one of your friends, set me up for a little prank?”

“You have the advantage of me. Please do explain.”

“Potter and Lupin sent me an anonymous owl, requesting my presence at the Leaky Cauldron. Then they cast Petrificus Totalus on me, just so I couldn’t interrupt as they explained that you should like me to woo you.”

“I’m going to kill them,” said Hermione through her teeth.

“So you are not in on the joke.” His black eyes glittered with something akin to hope.

“If you think this is a joke, why did you come here?”

“I needed the laugh.” He started to rise but was restrained by Hermione’s hand.

“Please stay…I do have some feelings for you. There was no prank.” She looked down at the table, embarrassed.

“And you said you aren’t in on it!” he hissed.

“What can I do to prove it to you? Come home with me.” She took his hand and placed it on her cheek.

“You sicken me that you could have such fun at my expense.” He pulled his hand away.

“And you are beginning to make me very angry. Why do you think I couldn’t care about you?

“Because I saw you and your paramour, Lupin, having a fine frolic in the moonlight last night.” He stared at her, willing her to deny it and knowing she wouldn’t be able to.

“He kissed me and then I explained that I didn’t love him, that I loved you.”

Snape felt like someone had taken and thrown him into the loch headfirst. There was a sound of whooshing water in his ears and then the murky iciness grasped him in its iron cold grip. He was plummeting down, further and further down into the velvety darkness of its depths.

Hermione caught him before he could go down and kept him on his seat. She shook her head in annoyance. Wasn’t he supposed to have brewed up some nerve tonic to help his condition? It was obvious that he had been neglecting himself to the extreme. She thought about it for a moment and then called over to Rosmerta’s helper, a large strapping Squib.

“Egbert, could you help me get Prof. Snape into the floo?”

“Why docher just Mobilicorpus him?” he said with his hands on hips.

Hermione sighed. He was a Squib who read non-stop about spells. She wished she hadn’t asked him. “Because I don’nt tnt to have a lot of gossip about my levitating him through the streets of Hogsmeade. There’s hardly a soul here right now and people will think only that he’s had too much too drink. Oh, look, there’s a Galleon in it for you.”

Egbert took the Galleon and slid it into his pocket, “Should have said that the first time.” And lifting Snape easily, he helped Hermione take him home. He even helped her put him to bed, for which she tipped him an extra two Sickles.

She retrieved the smelling salts and brought him aro

“What am I doing here?” he sounded too ill to be angry and Hermione put a cold compress to his forehead.

“What do you think? I said I’d prove that I love you.” The smile came and went quickly.

He sneered. It felt good. “So, I’m your new project. Let’s help the old bastard over his fainting spells. Remake him anew like Lupin?”

“I really doubt that I’d be that good. But you need to do something. You’re liver is worse and you haven’t taken anything for the fainting have you? Tell me, how many different potions could you take for your condition, one hundred… one hundred fifty?”

“I haven’t needed to. I’m quite fine when I’m at home and away from you.” Even as he was saying it, he could hear the cold, empty winds rush past his cottage.

“Oh, you have a place now. I suppose you could afford a really nice place, a manor house or something.”

“Oh, yes, Chateau Snape. I’ve a half-dozen house elves all in torn and filthy tea towels and I torture them on an hourly basis.”

“And you are taking the piss.” Hermione smiled. “I have missed you. And I’m sorry, if I was hard on you.”

“You are forgiven. Now I shall be returning to my regal abode.”

“Why won’t you give me another chance?” her voice started to go out of control.

“Because it hurts too fucking much!” he quietly got out of bed while reaching for his wand. “I don’t want your love. I don’t want to be saved or cured or rescued. I just want to be left alone to quietly rot away in my own time.”

“No,” she said with every ounce of dignity and certainty she had.

“No? Just no?”

“That’s right you selfish, cowardly custard of a Wizard. I said ‘no’.” And she grabbed him, pulling him down on the bed and kissed him.

There was a certain absurdity to the gesture. For one, he hadn’t been expecting itor aor another, his body was already terribly aroused and, in spite of his harsh words, it was the one thing that he didn’t have the will to fight. He’d wanted her so much, especially after all those stupid parties and celebrations where he’d been forced to watch Remus Lupin paw her.

He ripped at her clothing to get at her breasts and took one of them into his mouth. He was hurt and angry, but he didn’t want to hurt her back. Nuzzling her breasts made him feel happy and he buried his face between her two breasts, breathing in her very womanly smell.

She held his head there, reveling in her ability to get him to stop trying to run from her. She had him, at least for a little while. And she wanted to extend that time.

“Hermione,” it was a quiet sound, coming from his wounded self. And she undid the rest of her robes so he could continue to touch and taste her. He pulled back, stroking her thighs and wanting very much to be in between them. “Hermione.”

“Severus, take off yourthinthing,” she commanded.

Suddenly he didn’t want to fight her anymore. He was tired of being angry. He took off his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. They looked at each other, both naked in the cool air of her cottage. For a moment a sense of unreality dominated them both. Neither had planned on this happening, neither had expected ever be with the other again. Dare they trust it?

She pulled down the bed coverings and slipped under. He joined heror aor all their arousal, both felt frozen in time.

“Hermione, I love you.” He said it not meaning to say it out loud, not thinking about the words or their ramifications.

She nodded and pressed her body against his. Then he kissed her lips, pulling her body even closer to him. His cock was fully erect and standing up against his stomach and she reached down and caressed it. Her touch forced him to break off the kiss as he gasped.

The only sound in the room was of their heavy breathing as their eyes met again and locked.

“Make love to me, please?” she asked in a smallrlisrlish voice. Severus felt tears prick his eyes as he lay her down underneath him in the bed. He stroked her clitoris with his thumb and relished the way her whole body jumped as if an electrical charge had gone through her. He gently inserted a finger to see if he dared enter her and found her quite slick.

Slowly he took his cock and brought it to her entrance. “Open yourself for me,” he requested, still scared a bit-- of what he wasn’t sure, and she took hold of him and placed him inside of her.

It took all his self-control to not ram himself in, but he managed to enter her slowly. He was shaking all over with the effort and the excitement. But once fully sheathed in her, he waited a moment for them both to adjust.

She pushed up against him with her hips and then wrapped her legs around his waist. He began to rhythmically and slowly fuck her. He sucked on the skin at the side of her neck and her moans went to a fever pitch. He picked up speed, finding that any claim to control he’d had had dissolved in the presence of her vocalized arousal. His balls slapped against her entrance as his went into her hard and harder still. Her moans changed, now sounding like the mewing of a kitten. He knew she was very close to orgasm and he wanted to give her all that was in him, to pleasure her totally. She screamed and it caused his balls to tighten rock hard and then he was coming into her.

Their bodies still entwined, they fell asleep.

In his dream, Snape was back in the Silver Heather realm with Lady Snape. She was talking to him, saying, “Imagine finding a stray cat in an alleyway. He’s half-starved and most of his fur is gone. His ear has been chewed off and his tail is broken. Nearly dead, when you approach him, he still finds the energy to hind snd s Si Simply because that’s the sort of creature he is.

“Imagine the same feline a year later. Oh, the ear is still gone and the tail has a kink to it, but his fur is sleek and glossy. And when you walk in the room, instead of hissing, he purrs to you. Would you ever allow such an animal to be put back into the alleyway?”

Snape awoke to find her cuddled in his arms.

And Snape knew he didn’t want to go back to living on the dark side of the moon. It was too cold and lonely and as long as he could wake up every morning with Hermione by his side, he wanted to live forever.

He only hoped that he could make this Hermione love him as much as the other Hermione loved her husband.

A/N: Heading into the final stretch. Come on everyone, I want to give a big, big shout out for the final chapter! I’ve just really had a fine time writing all this.

Hugs to my reviewers: Nesscafe, Deb, Friendly Quark, Deblovesdragon, Mother, Jkrazed, Littrd ard and Pauline.

And a special thank you to Rilla for taking a look at this chapter and giving me her feedback.