The Unfortunates

Finally another chapter; sorry it took a little longer than usual. I hope you like it... A bit soft Severus in this one, but at some point he has to get just a little soft; he's human after all, and a human with emotions...! :)

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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: IT MUST BE LOVE


There was a knock on her door a couple of minutes later. Hermione had not even had time to put on more clothes– she wondered whether it was a good or a bad thing– as she’d spent those minutes contemplating what she’d agreed to in inviting him to her room.

She opened the door– not too widely, as she was only wearing knickers and a top – and let him in. He looked weary, but her lack of clothing seemed not to pass him by unnoticed.

The moment she closed the door, Severus approached her, placing a hand gently at her neck as he gave her a small kiss.

“I cannot recall the last time I actually did that,” he said, as though apologizing.

“It was during your concussion, I think,” replied Hermione, slightly breathlessly.

“Well, that is all gone now,” he said. “Courtesy of Madam Pomfrey.”

“Please,” said Hermione, feeling slightly awkward suddenly; she was still standing before him in very little clothing, “take a seat, or... well, I don’t quite know what you had in mind.”

“I don’t quite know myself, am I to be honest with you,” admitted Severus, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. “I almost found myself wondering why I would even come here.”

“Why would you wonder such a thing?” asked Hermione hesitantly, sitting down on the bed next to him, but not too close. She felt as though he had the upper hand because he was fully dressed. It was a strange thing, that clothing should matter this much.

“I don’t know,” he replied earnestly. He rubbed his temples before continuing, “I guess I... I have been trying to work out exactly what I feel about you, Hermione.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “And...?”

“So much has been happening,” he went on, “that I feel as though we have never had the chance to think it through properly. We decided there was an attraction, but it seems like months ago. Then I told you about Mohrag, and to me, it felt as though something was... settled.”

Settled? What did he mean, settled?

“It made me uneasy,” he continued, sighing. “I did not know what to... Whether or not to accept it.”

Accept what?

“I’m sorry, Severus,” interrupted Hermione, “but you’re being a bit... vague.”

“I apologize,” he said instantly. “I am ranting; I know it.” He looked at her, his expression unfathomable. “What I have discovered, Hermione, is that not only am I attracted to you, but I... I feel... something... for you.”

“What, you’re trying to say you’re in love with me?” she blurted out.

He looked irritated for a moment, but it quickly vanished.

“I,” he began, “I do not rightly know. It has been so long since I even knew how to define being in love; I...” He rubbed his temples again, and looked suddenly even more weary and tired. “Hermione, I...”

“Yes...?” she said hesitantly.

He looked away, focusing all of his attention on the floor somewhere off to the left as he said, “I need you.” The tiniest of pauses. “That is what I have realized, and that is what makes me uneasy. I do not know if I am in love with you, but I am attracted to you, and I need you to– well, I simply need you. I cannot explain it. When you are not there, I think of you. When you are, I wish for your attention.”

Silence fell about the room unnaturally quickly, and it was awkward. Hermione wasn’t quite sure what to think.

“It sounds...” she began, “it sounds as though I’m a protecting mother figure to you.”

“No!” he said instantly, turning swiftly on the bed to face her, grasping both her hands in his. “No, that is not how it is. Hermione, you must understand I have no idea what this is... Perhaps it is as you say, perhaps I am in love– I do not know. Perhaps I am just unwilling to see it. But believe me, I do not see you as any mother figure,” he added, his gaze dropping for a mere second to her bare thighs before returning to her face.

She smiled a bit then. “That’s a relief,” she said, and didn’t care if the relief was very evident in her voice. “I don’t want to be some mother hen who you seek out for comfort and dry handkerchiefs.”

“Never,” he whispered.

“Then... perhaps you are in love with me?” she said suggestively.

He glanced at her.

“It would be nice,” she continued, acting casual, “seeing as how I am most definitely in love with you.”

The look on his face... Hermione thought she’d never seen anything so beautiful. Severus was not handsome, nor pretty, yet that expression alone surely was enough to make any woman feel about him the way Hermione felt. He looked so... relieved, so overwhelmed; as though he couldn’t believe what she was telling him.

Was it so unlikely to him?

“After all I have done to you,” he said quietly. “Said, and done,” he added darkly. “Despite my past, and all that I have told you of it...”

“I don’t pretend to understand what you’ve been through,” interrupted Hermione. “But your past... No one should hate you for your past, because you’ve repaid your debts. And even when you were young and foolish, you still felt, and loved, and got hurt, just like everyone else... You’re human, Severus. Contrary to popular belief,” she added with a smile.

He smirked dryly at that. “You really did knock me off my high horse,” he said finally, a hint of mischief twinkling in his eyes.

She laughed openly at that, remembering the words she’d spat at him all those weeks ago at Lilly Barrette’s, and all the tension left the room like a puff of smoke.

“I love the way you laugh,” he said, completely off guard, and that surprised her. He seemed so relaxed suddenly; perhaps her revelation had given him back the upper hand he so always loved to have, whatever the situation.

“I’m glad,” she smiled. “Oh, I completely forgot! How did things go with these new guys– what was it, the Daybreakers? Fred seemed very skeptical.”

“As am I,” said Severus, and then he told her all about the two messengers and their meeting with Harry. When he finished, Hermione had to agree she too was a bit skeptical, but decided she couldn’t really make up her mind before seeing for herself if they appeared as hostile and paranoid as Severus described them.

“If they are trustworthy,” she said, “they’ll be good allies.”

“Undoubtedly,” agreed Severus. “But it remains to be seen.” He stifled a yawn.

“Sorry,” said Hermione, “are you tired? I can imagine you’ve had a long day.”

He nodded, though he seemed hesitant as to whether or not she’d let him spend the night.

“Please stay,” she whispered instinctively.

He nodded, and got to his feet, his hands reaching up remove his robes. Underneath them he wore black trousers and a dark, moss green shirt. Somehow, the colour really suited him.

As he reached up to unbutton it, Hermione jumped to her feet, stilling his hands.

“What –” he began, but she interrupted him.

“Can I...?”

He nodded, his eyes flashing the smile that his mouth dared not.

Slowly, Hermione reached up and began unbuttoning his shirt. The fabric felt nice; it was probably quite expensive. The outfit made him look more human, more Muggle, but she found there was nothing wrong with that. She suspected he would even look good in a knitted jumper– as long as the colours remained dark.

As she moved her way down, unbuttoning his shirt, more and more of the chest she had yet to see came into view. She’d been so curious about it the last time they’d spent a night together, and now she could see all of it; there was no where for him to hide.

And he looked wonderful.

His chest was thin, like the rest of him, as was his waist, but in a way it suited him. He wouldn’t have looked good with too much meat on him; he looked just fine the way he was, with his well defined, slightly hair chest and flat stomach, on which the growth of hair was a bit more evident. His shoulders were rather broad, despite his lean frame, and his arms were not at all thin, as one could’ve expected, but just right.

Her gaze travelling across his torso again, Hermione caught sight of his hip bones and wondered idly what else her former Potions Master was presented with; she’d never really seen that much of him, despite the level of intimacy they’d shared.

At that point, he leaned down and kissed her, pulling her close against his chest; it felt as though it was something he’d restrained himself from doing from the moment she’d began unbuttoning the shirt. Sliding it off his shoulders, she explored his skin properly for the first time, feeling the texture of his back and chest, stopping every now and then at a scar. He felt so very real to her now, more so than he’d ever done before, and her theory was confirmed: He really was nothing but a human. His breathing, his soft, yet firm skin and his vulnerability, which he loathed that anyone ever saw, were all proof of that. And she was nothing but happy at the thought; so happy it hurt. He was human, and he was letting her be the one to experience it.

He intensified their kiss, gently yet firmly exploring her mouth, and his left hand were drawing small circles at her lower back whilst his right was running through her hair and across her neck, giving her goosebumps.

Not breaking the kiss, Severus picked her up as though she weighed nothing at all, and carried her around to the head of the bed, where he gently placed her down. He quickly slipped out of his trousers– he did not offer her to do it; perhaps he thought she was nervous– and got in next to her. Before Hermione could even act he’d begun kissing her again, pulling her close against his body. His kisses were slow and enticing; there’s was no hurry or brutality in them, just pure love and temptation. It felt wonderful; nothing like what she had experienced with her clients at Barrette’s.

After several minutes, he pulled away, never letting her go, his eyes piercing hers.

“I must say it now before I lose my courage,” he said, his voice slightly sultry, “you are right, Hermione, I am in love with you. I must be.”

She smiled; she found she had nothing to say, just those simple words meant so much to her it was downright painful. There were no limits to how much she cared for this man; she just wished he’d never leave her; that they could just stay in that bed forever...

“Severus,” she whispered, “I’m... I’m so glad.”

He smiled, genuinely, and kissed her again. A warm feeling was spreading through her body, and a thought struck her: There was no reason to fear this man any more. And she was not exactly a virgin.

“Listen,” she began, “I... Perhaps we both need...” She didn’t finish her sentence, but hoped her look would say what needed to be said. Evidently it did, for realization dawned on his features.

“No,” said Severus gently, one of his hands pushing her hair back. “I... I just declared that I’m in love with you, Hermione; I will not have sex with you tonight, on pure lust and impulse.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she said, offended. He was in love with her; of course he’d want to sleep with her? And the gods knew, she did want it too...

“Don’t misunderstand,” he said. “There is nothing I would want more. But...” He sighed, and looked as though he needed to sort out his thoughts. Then he sat up slightly and looked seriously at her. “I hope you will not be offended if I suggest we wait in... consummating our relationship.”

“Wait? Why?” she asked; genuinely worried now. She sat up too.

“Relax,” he said soothingly, “there is nothing to be upset about. Let me explain to you. When we first met, and I thought you were a prostitute, I did consider sleeping with you. It was most tempting, and– please forgive me– I thought that after all, you were simply a whore.”

Hermione looked down into the sheets.

“Please,” said Severus, “I did not know who you were.”

“What’s this got to do with anything?”

“Remember how I feel about you,” he said gently. “Back then, you were nobody. Now, you are Hermione, and I care so greatly for you... And for six months, you suffered hell at the hand of people I once called friends. Lucius, for example.”

“Do you honestly believe I compare you to them?” she exclaimed.

“No,” he replied. “But I compare myself to them. Whether you like it or not, it is a fact. I was once one of them, and once I thought what they thought. I need to make it clear, not only to you, but to myself, that this relationship is not about sex. And, more importantly, I want you to enjoy it.”

“I will –”

“Please,” he interrupted, wanting to finish. “Some day, when this is all over, we will still be laden with a lot of bad memories from this time. For you, those memories will, among other things, obviously be of your time as Mira Gideon. It will be... of your sexual experiences, mainly. It is still in the very near past, Hermione, and I will not have a memory of us sleeping together mixed up with memories of you having to endure Lucius, Draco, or any of the others.” He sighed.

“I,” began Hermione, hesitant for a moment on what to say. “I appreciate that.”

“It matters so much more than you think,” he said quietly.

“You might be right.”

“I am. Hermione, there is still so much left for us to experience. The very thought infuriates me, but for all we know we will end up caught by Death Eaters, and rest assured Lucius and others like him will want their revenge on you. You think it is over, because you are no longer a prostitute. That does not mean you won't experience it again. I will not be one of many in a series of horrid memories.”

They were silent for a long time. Hermione wondered if she really understood what he meant, but then decided that yes, she probably did. She was in love with him, needed him, just like he needed her, and his touch was so comforting and safe that perhaps she hadn’t stopped to think. It might still be a bad experience.

She suspected it might have a little to do with the infamous matter of male pride. If he really was to sleep with her, a woman he was in love with, he wanted her to enjoy every second of it. He wanted to give her pleasure. If he went to bed with her fearing she’d categorize their sexual encounters with those she’d had with clients, deliberately or not... Yes, she supposed it was understandable.

“But,” she said finally, blushing slightly, “the last time we shared a bed... You... Well, you gave me an orgasm, didn’t you...?”

“A moment of weakness on my part,” he murmured, “and at that point I was still uncertain what I felt for you. I was still confused. Rest assured I would love to do it again, mind.”

And, with a smile on her face at the thought of that promise and of the man who was to be hers, Hermione finally fell asleep, wrapped in his arms.


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A/N: Well? :) As always, a huge thanks to my faithful beta JessiokaFroka - especially so for this chapter; she gave me quite the encouragement!

Oh, and a big bottle of Ogden's to the one who can tell me which song I nicked the chapter title from!

Now, I realize some might be a bit disappointed here - no lemons? - but they are coming, I promise... Believe me when I say I had Severus's thoughts on this worked out from day one. I mean, place yourself in his situation; he is concerned for both himself and Hermione. Will he become one of the many memories from "the time period in which she had sex for money"? He feels strongly for her now, and he doesn't want to be associated with such memories. He wants to make it special... And he will... ;)

As always, I so appreciate your lovely reviews, thank you all so much!