Yuleride

Chapter 24 ~ Snape Makes a Move

”All right, Ron, have you decided what you’re going to do with Hermione?” Bill asked him as Fleur fixed some tea. They were sitting in the kitchen at Shell Cottage.

”You mean other than shag her?” Ron asked him as Fleur shook her head and set his tea in front of him with a bit of attitude.

”You are still a selfish prat, Ronald Weasley,” she chided him. “What Bill is saying is where are you going to take her for the romance. You cannot just do it. You must create the proper atmosphere. Make her happy with you.”

”Oh,” Ron said, looking thoughtful.

Bill and Fleur looked at each other, Bill shaking his head slightly. He’d taught Ron all he could about being a caring, sensitive lover and he seemed to get the hang of it, physically, but the emotional part, that was all on him. His new technique wouldn’t mean a thing if he just sprang it on Hermione the selfish way he usually did.

”Well, she wants to do something exciting, but it’s winter right now, so there’s not much to do,” Ron said, his brow furrowed. Then he brightened.

”Hey, do you have the Prophet?” he asked Bill.

”Sure,” he said as Fleur went to retrieve it from the living room. She brought it in and handed it to Ron, who laid it flat on the table and quickly leafed through it, his blue eyes scanning the pages. Finally, he pointed at a small article.

”There. Advancements in the Fields of Charms and Spells,” he said. “It’s a four hour lecture on the newest Charms developments. I know Hermione would like that. It’s being given at the Ministry Library this Sunday afternoon, by Miranda Goshawk. She’s the witch who wrote all our Charms textbooks at Hogwarts. She’s an authority.”

”That doesn’t sound very romantic,” Fleur sniffed. Bill looked doubtful as well.

”I might not be the fastest broom in the shed when it comes to dealing with Hermione, but I know what wets her knickers more than anything, and that’s learning new things. She’ll love this, and love even more that I’ll be attending it with her. I’m going to drink some Pepper-up Potion so I don’t doze off,” Ron said confidently. “I’m also going to buy whatever Goshawk’s latest book is and get it autographed for Hermione. Then, we’ll go out to eat someplace nice, then I’ll bring her home and spend some quality time with her. It’s a perfect plan.”

”Well, the going out to eat is nice, but I don’t know about the other—the lecture. I would have slapped Bill if he ever took me to a boring lecture,” Fleur declared, glowering at her husband.

Bill just smirked. She could slap him if she wanted to . . .

”I’m going to go to Hogwarts tomorrow and invite her to the lecture. I was going to owl her, but I think it would be better to ask her face to face. I’m going to bring her flowers, too. Not roses this time. Something else.”

Bill nodded.

”Sounds as if you have a plan, Ron. I really hope it works out for you,” he said, slapping Ron on the back.

”And remember what I told you about the stroking,” Fleur said warningly.

”And the oral,” Bill interjected.

”I know. I know,” Ron muttered at them, his hand reflexively going to his right forearm, even though it didn’t hurt anymore. “I’ve got it.”

”Good,” Fleur replied, sitting down with her tea.

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Hermione returned to her quarters, thinking her meeting with Snape and what he’d said. He sounded . . . well, almost human.

She frowned slightly for thinking that. It was cruel—unfair. Of course Severus was human, with frailties and weaknesses like anyone else. Maybe even more frailties because of what he’d gone through for an ungrateful wizarding world.

As she undressed for bed, Hermione realized something when she was speaking to the wizard. That she did have something he didn’t, people who stood by her, who cared about her. She wasn’t alone in the world, but he truly was standing on the outside and looking in. And she knew something else—

Severus Snape was reaching out to her. No matter how much he might deny it, the dark, cold, snarky bat of the dungeons was looking for someone to stand by him, someone to—trust. And he had decided that she was the one. Sure, he had a dream, he had other motives, but the truth of the matter was out of everyone in the wizarding world, she was the one he found suitable.

But—Severus was so obviously damaged. Years of solitude and mistreatment had taken their toll on the man. What might he have been like if destiny had been kinder to him?

She lay down in her bed, pulling the heavy blankets over her body and staring into the semi-darkness.

Hermione Granger, if you were to come with me, it would mean—that you believe in my dream, therefore, believe in me. You would be the one person in this world in my corner. I wouldn’t let it take you from me.

Hermione lay there, wondering exactly what it meant. If anyone other than Snape had said it, it would have sounded terribly romantic, a kind of commitment. Was it an expressed commitment from the wizard?

Hermione’s brown eyes softened a bit. If Severus Snape had proved anything over the years, it was he was a man capable of commitment. He had served Albus Dumbledore from his youth, protected Harry as much as possible. Underwent torment after torment by the Dark Lord without even confessing his duplicity. He even killed Albus Dumbledore at the old wizard’s request, all the while knowing it would make him appear to be a traitor, and become even more hated and reviled. He could have let Draco do it, but he didn’t. He remained loyal until the very end.

Now Hermione’s eyes began to fill, because underneath all that commitment, all that pain and suffering Snape had gone through, was his love for a woman that didn’t love him back. Who married a man he despised, and despised with good reason. Every time he looked into Harry’s green eyes for all those years, Lily’s ghost looked back at him, beyond his reach, all that pain reborn anew.

Severus wasn’t a handsome man. He wasn’t a social man. He wasn’t even a kind man. But he was capable of great loyalty and great self-sacrifice for the sake of others. He was willing to commit himself to her in a way, if she committed to him. He would provide for her, in a sense, since he said he would recoup his money. He would protect her and not abandon her in their travels. He would be a lover to her as well if she wanted that.

The wizard was so good at sex. Dear gods. Hermione felt a warmth creeping up her belly at the thought of him, that silken voice crooning at her as he gave her all the pleasure she could stand. How open and appreciative he was of her body, how it mattered to him how she felt, how he made her feel. She had never experienced that kind of focus from a man before.

Hermione shuddered, and willed the feeling away. She had already made her decision. Just because the dark wizard opened up a little didn’t change her mind about his offer. Ron was working so hard at changing, and he was so much more comforting than Snape, so much safer. He laughed easily, smiled and didn’t have a harsh bone in his body. Yes, he could be thoughtless, but no one was perfect. Ron was offering her a good, stable life, a home and a family. He came from a loving family, he had friends. He knew what it was to care for others and have others care for him. He was loyal too, and knew how to love. Hermione saw that clearly now. How could she ever throw that away?

She began to feel sleepy.

Still, on Saturday she would find out first hand what it would be like to go on an adventure with Snape. She had to admit that although she did her best to hide it from him, she was very excited. More excited than she’d been in a long, long time. She was walking into the proverbial jaws of death once more, and really didn’t know what to expect. What was the little something Snape had up his robes sleeve that could “possibly” protect them? Well, she’d find out.

”You’d better not let me get eaten, Severus Snape,” she murmured sleepily before dropping off.

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The next day was Friday, and the Potions master had just emerged from the dungeon corridor, scattering students left and right as he strode toward the Great Hall for lunch. He stopped momentarily as he saw the outer doors open and Filch enter, followed by . . .

Ron Weasley.

The wizard was carrying a bunch of yellow flowers.

Snape’s black eyes narrowed and he didn’t move as Filch and Ron walked to the Great Hall, the squib letting him in.

There could be just one reason Weasley was here, and it would be to see Hermione. He’d hand her those blasted flowers in front of everyone All the witches would swoon, Hermione would flush and Snape would lose a lunch he hadn’t even consumed yet. Well, maybe it wouldn’t be the smooth transition Weasley thought it would.

Snape hurried down the corridor that led to the teacher’s entrance and swooped through, sitting down just as Ron made it up to the dais, Hermione and the other witches beaming at him. Hagrid gave him a happy wave, which Ron returned, but it was clear he only had eyes for Hermione.

Snape pulled out his wand under the table and subtly flicked it at Ron.

”Hey, ‘Moine” he grinned, attempting to leap up the dais. He fell flat on his face, Hermione and the other witches standing up in alarm. The students broke into laughter as a red-faced Ron stood up, his flowers flattened.

Snape smirked as Hermione ran around the table to Ron, who was gingerly brushing himself off, his ears bright red.

”Oh, Ron, are you all right?” she asked him, concern on her face. His nose was very red.

”I guess I miscalculated,” he said sheepishly, then handed her the bouquet of crushed flowers. “I wanted to tell you I’ve made arrangements for an outing on Sunday afternoon, if you want to go . . .”

Snape murmured a listening spell, so he could hear what Ron was saying.

” . . . Miranda Goshawk’s lecture.”

”Oh, Ron! I’d love to go,” Hermione gushed, kissing him on the cheek.

”Ooooh!” a chorus of student voices rose and fell as Hermione reddened.

Ron smiled at the students and looked back at Hermione. Gods, it felt as if he hadn’t touched her for a million years.

”I have a school-related assignment I have to—er, do Saturday night, but I’ll be home Sunday morning,” Hermione told him.

Ron, thinking it was some kind of late night paperwork marathon, nodded. Hermione was forever doing something along those lines. Snape smirked once more. So, Hermione didn’t want to tell her beau she’d be spending the night with him. That was quite—interesting. Obviously, the witch wasn’t into “full disclosure.”

”I’ll pick you up after lunch then, but don’t eat too much. I’ve made supper reservations at the Bee’s Knees,” he told her. He was rewarded with another broad smile from Hermione. The Bee’s Knees was a very nice restaurant.

”I won’t. Oh, this is wonderful, Ron. I can’t wait for Sunday,” she told him softly.

Ron carefully lifted her hand and kissed the back of it gently.

”Neither can I,” he breathed.

Snape rolled his eyes, sure he wasn’t going to be able to keep his lunch down. He ordered chicken broth with toast.

Ron left and Hermione returned to the dais, informing all of the witches about her upcoming date with Ron as Snape quickly ate his broth. The wizard left the Great Hall, returned to his office and quickly found an edition of the Daily Prophet. He scanned the paper until he found the details concerning the upcoming lecture. He studied them, running a finger over his lips for a moment, then pulled a piece of parchment toward him, and jotted down a note.

Dear Miss Divine,

You are to attend a lecture given by Miranda Goshawk this upcoming Sunday at the Ministry Library. It begins at 1:00 pm. Arrive around 3:00 pm, during the intermission. Mr. Weasley will be present. Make sure he sees you. Remember, you aren’t to interact with him under any circumstances. Once you’ve accomplished this, send me a small pensieve and I will send you payment.

SS

Snape folded the parchment and sealed it with his wax stamp. He then placed a self-destruct charm on it, so as not to leave any evidence.

”You’re going to find that lecture quite interesting, Mr. Weasley,” the wizard purred as he exited his office and headed for the high tower and school owls.

”I daresay it will be—distracting as well.”

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A/N: Thanks for reading.