Love Vigilantes

Reviews would be lovely, as always!

“It’s inside you, and I don’t know if I want the truth tonight. So take what you’ve learned, lay back and close your eyes. Pretend that there’s an answer and that everything’s alright.” (Lie to Me, by Brandtson)

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Hermione groaned as she rolled over to discover that it was time for another morning of Potions. She felt absolutely miserable after her late night of contemplation upon returning from her date with Snape and decided, for the first time in her life, that it would be better to skip his class than face him. She realized that there must have been something seriously wrong with her if that was the conclusion to which she came but was tired of Severus’ cryptic moodiness. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to avoid him for long; he had a way of making her talk to him whenever he saw fit, but she needed time to think of what to say. It would be a difficult task to change the mind of Severus Snape, but Hermione was determined to accept the challenge and emerge victorious. She wanted nothing more than to be able to have a discussion with him that didn’t end in either one of them being angry or sullen; they hadn’t really had one yet, and if that was all of which they were capable, Hermione wasn’t sure she wanted to continue their relationship. She needed a reason to hope that they would be alright, and she wanted him to feel the same way. His increased openness the night before gave her some reason to believe that he would be reasonable, but she would need all her strength to confront him.

Just as she fell back asleep, someone began pounding on her door. She knew that it would either be Ron or Harry, since they always walked to Potions together in the mornings, and silently cursed her Head Girl’s room for not having the same sort of magical staircase the rest of the House dormitories featured. She would have loved it if they were unable to access her rooms, sliding backwards to the floor instead, and mentally fashioned some semblance of an excuse to give whoever was currently outside.

“Hermione, are you okay? You’ve overslept! We’re almost late for Potions! Snape will kill us! We’re not even going to have time for breakfast! Ugh, today cannot possibly be a good day. Come on, get up!” It was Ron who was frantically screaming outside, knowing that something must have been wrong if Hermione wasn’t on time for class.

“Ron, I’m not feeling very well this morning. I think I’m going to skip Potions for the day. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’ve already outlined the next three chapters and can make up today’s assignment sometime during my independent study. Just tell Snape I’m a little under the weather. He should understand. He won’t get mad at you. Let him know that I look terrible. That should satisfy him.” Hermione pulled the covers back over her head, attempting to block out the craziness that had become her life, as she heard Ron retreat to the common room, no doubt to tell Harry what had just occurred. It wouldn’t surprise her if her two friends spent the day guessing what sort of bizarre sickness she had. Actually, it wouldn’t surprise Hermione if a majority of the Hogwarts faculty and students wondered what had happened to her. In her entire academic career, she had never missed a class. With the Time-Turner in her third year, she had even managed to be in two places at once. Her absence that day would be unprecedented, and Hermione wondered if it was worth the extra sleep if she was only to be bombarded with questions and comments when she emerged from her rooms. It could be much more stressful than she had first anticipated. Only five minutes into her decision, Hermione was second guessing herself. She almost immediately felt a headache coming on and realized that she certainly did need the extra rest.

Finally alone in the silence of her room after quelling her own troublesome thoughts, Hermione fell into a deep sleep that took her late into the afternoon. Miraculously, she had no dreams or nightmares to interrupt her, but an uninterrupted sleep was clearly not in the cards for Hermione.

Suddenly, Ron burst back into her room without knocking and Hermione sat up straight and threw off her covers, startled by the intrusion. She realized that it was probably fortunate that Ron had woken her so that she didn’t sleep the entire day away, but was perturbed nonetheless.

“RON! What are you doing? You scared me! I was sleeping. What the bloody hell do you want? You’re not supposed to be in here…at least not without my permission!” Hermione gasped as she realized she was wearing nothing but her short boxers with a matching camisole and quickly reached to pull on the oversized Gryffindor sweatshirt she had left on the floor beside her bed.

“Sorry, Hermione, but it’s Snape. He seemed really pissed that you missed class this morning, even when I told him you weren’t at all well. He told me that if I didn’t tell you to go see him tonight, so you can make up the material you missed, there would be hell to pay. I don’t think he’s joking; I mean, he’s Snape. So, I ran up here to tell you right after all our classes were over. You should really meet with him, because I know you wouldn’t want me to have detention with Snape for all eternity!” He looked over at Hermione as she pulled her knees to her chest in the middle of the bed, distressed by Snape’s apparent anger.

She had expected Severus to give her time to rest if he was made aware that she was feeling unwell. He was always so concerned when it appeared as though she weren’t taking proper care of herself, but she supposed that things were different now that he knew that he was the primary cause of her discomfort. Hermione sighed in resignation, realizing that she was going to have to talk to him that night. She had been hoping to put it off until tomorrow, at the earliest. But Ron did have a point. She’d feel more than mere guilt if she got him even a week’s worth of detentions from Snape, let alone an eternity. And she’d gotten more than enough sleep that day. She convinced herself that she could handle Severus once again and started to get her things ready, reassuring Ron of her trip to see their disgruntled professor.

“No, Ron. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. I’ll go talk to him.” She waited for Ron to leave, but he seemed intent on just standing there in her room looking around for the rest of the day. “Uh, Ron,” she muttered, “could you… leave so I can change?” It was true that they were friends, but they weren’t that close.

“Oh, right. Sorry, Hermione. I’ll see you later. I hope Snape isn’t too hard on you! You look better; he might think you were faking!” Ron shut the door behind him as he went downstairs, giving Hermione the privacy she needed to throw on a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt over her sleeping attire. She walked the path that she was convinced she could now even traverse blindfolded down to the dungeons and knocked swiftly on Snape’s door.

“Who is it?” Severus yelled, most likely from his desk.

“It’s Hermione. Ron told me you wished to see me. Is now a bad time?” She stood waiting for his answer, silently praying that he was too busy for her. Usually she looked forward to their meetings, but Hermione felt nothing but apprehension now.

“No, Hermione. Now will be fine. Come in.”

She stepped into the classroom and sat down after he motioned to a chair near his desk. She looked dejectedly into her lap, unable to meet his gaze. Her previous offensive strategy had gotten her very few results thus far, and she decided to take a different approach. She didn’t know what he was going to say and wouldn’t venture a guess. She would wait for him to talk, to make the first move. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity of silence, Snape finally spoke.

“Hermione, I have not asked you here to punish you, though I admit that you have been the cause of a rather disappointing morning.”

Hermione stared at him blankly, completely ignorant of the point he was trying to make. Although she made an attempt, she could barely listen to what he was saying. She felt oddly detached from him, the way she had felt nothing emotionally when Ron had kissed her. It made her feel even more uncomfortable, and she wished that Severus would just be forthcoming with her. It seemed that there was so much she didn’t understand, and it scared her. His voice brought her back to reality once again, as it had done so many times before.

“Hm…so it seems that you did think I had you summoned to penalize you for your absence. I can’t say that I’m sorry you were made uncomfortably anxious, as it is the same fate you’ve inflicted on me. Did you even bother to think this morning, while you lay in your bed all afternoon, that your indiscriminant nonattendance of any of your classes, especially my own, would have me extremely concerned?” he asked, pain evident in his tone.

Hermione didn’t know how to react to his question; she felt waves of anger and happiness simultaneously flowing through her veins but was determined to answer noncommittally, forcing Severus to reveal the truth behind his words. She always said so much, and he so little. Even in this state, Hermione desired to turn the tables on Severus.

“To be honest, I didn’t even consider that a possibility. I figured it wouldn’t be an issue, seeing as you disregarded me right before completely disappearing last night. I’m not your problem anymore, Severus. You’ve made that quite clear. Whatever happens to me won’t reflect poorly on you. Ron led me to believe you had work for me to do. Is that true or just another one of your lies?” Part of Hermione wanted her words to hurt Severus, to give him some feeling of what she had been experiencing for months, but deep down she wanted nothing more than for him to prove her, the know-it-all, wrong.

“You can’t mean that, Hermione.”

The change of Snape’s tone, his complete vulnerability before her now, startled Hermione. It was disconcerting for her to see this side of him, but at the same time she acknowledged the trust he had in her by allowing her to witness it. It was a heady realization. She continued to listen to him in amazement.

“You must know…surely, you must know that all of this has been for you, even the pain. I left last night because I couldn’t bear to harm you further, because…I care for you. Just because I don’t know what I want doesn’t mean I don’t care. On the contrary, I care very much. You don’t deserve to be hurt like this.” He stared past Hermione, lost in his own mind, not noticing her moving from her seat to kneel next to him.

Hermione’s detachment was immediately cast aside upon hearing his admission. She was elated. He cared. For others, it might not have been the most romantic of conversations, but to Hermione, it meant the world. It wasn’t love or any sort of promise, but it was more than he had been willing to say before. It was progress. She had gotten the hope she had come for and immediately began her campaign to win over Severus Snape.

“But, Severus, you are hurting me, can’t you see it?” She grasped his hand in hers as she pleaded for him to hear her. “I know you’re convinced that you’re going to hurt me even more, but don’t you want me to be happy until then? You don’t know what you want, and that’s okay, just let me give you what I can. But give me a lie, Severus. Be with me as if nothing else matters. I’ll deal with the pain when it comes, but, for now, I don’t care. Please say you’ll lie to me, just for a while. I’ve cried so many tears and lost so much sleep for you. Just make it stop. Please.” Severus turned his face towards her as he heard the urgency in her voice and saw the tears forming even now in her eyes as she spoke.

“Hermione, how can you ask that of me? What kind of man would I be if I lied to you?” His eyes spoke more than his words, conveying all the doubts he would never have let anyone else but her see.

“You would be who you already are,” Hermione stated bluntly, shocking him. She realized that her last hope was to use logic to convince him, and if it hurt him to hear it, she would let it be. “If what you said before it true, that I’m going to hate you because you will ‘betray’ me, then it means you’ve already been telling me lies. I’m just asking you to tell a better one. Make it a lie worth telling; get the most out of it while you can. I’m saying it’s alright, Severus. I want to be able to sleep at night, to not be tense in class wondering what you think of me, to enjoy the time that we have. I won’t think any less of you; you won’t lose my trust. I trust that you’ll deceive me, create an illusion. I know you can do it, but will you?”

A heavy silence fell over the room as she waited for his answer. When she had almost given up hope, thinking that his contemplation had lulled him to sleep right in front of her, Severus responded.

“Yes.”

With that one word, he gave Hermione the freedom she had been so desperately seeking. She rose to her feet to stand in front of him before sitting on his desk, raised to a position only slightly above his own.

“Then show me,” she demanded, watching as Snape raised his mouth to hers, never breaking contact as he stood to his full height.

Immediately, they both sensed that what they were sharing was different. The kiss lacked the unbridled lust they experienced before but was no less passionate. Feeling as if they had all the time in the world, the couple began a slow exploration of how beautiful a lie could be. His arms enveloped Hermione, and she wrapped hers around him in response as he leaned forward to press feather light kisses along her jaw line and neck. When he felt the pounding of the blood through the veins of her neck under his lips, his mouth became more demanding, feeling how her pulse quickened under his touch. She stroked his back, urging him on and gasped lightly before he began kissing her mouth again, causing the familiar ache to spread through Hermione’s body once more. She wrapped her legs around his waist, digging her heels into the back of his thighs, persuading him to deepen their kiss. Her hands ran over the front of his robes as he opened his mouth to hers, completely lost to the feel of her body against him. Minutes later, she pulled back from him, noticing the disappointed look of concern on his face. She smiled to herself before whispering to him in reassurance.

“Touch me, Severus.” She leaned back further on his desk, watching as half of him groaned in desire while the other half battled for propriety.

“But I am touching you,” he replied silkily as he stroked the sides of her arms.

“You know what I meant, you insufferable man. Now shut up and touch me.” She kissed him quickly before he pulled back.

“Bossy little Gryffindor, aren’t you?” Severus quipped before returning her kiss.

“Is it working?” Hermione retorted, silenced again by his mouth. She reached to pull her shirt off and tossed it on the floor behind her, remaining in the camisole she had been sleeping in earlier that morning. She was aware of Severus gazing at her in appreciation before he answered.

“Yes.” He leant forward again, resuming where they left off, until his office door suddenly swung open.

“Professor Snape, I need to ask Hermione something, and Ron told me she was down here, so – MERLIN’S BALLS!”

“SHIT!” Hermione yelled simultaneously with Severus’ “FUCK” as they both turned to see a very shocked and red-faced Ginny Weasley standing at the door. Before any of the three could say another word, Ginny fled into the corridor, and Hermione was trying to get her shirt back so that she could chase after her looking somewhat decent.

“GINNY, STOP!” Hermione called, running out the door and slamming it behind her, leaving an incredibly frustrated Potions Master behind.

Severus went to his rooms for a nice, long, cold shower, hoping that when he was finished, Hermione would have made Ginny Weasley see sense. It appeared as though it was going to be a long night.