The Ties that Lead to Trust

Chapter 35~ Unconditional Love

The warm morning sunshine poured through the large south facing windows, illuminating Hermione’s bedroom with a cheerful glow. Severus squinted in the light, trying to read his newspaper, but finding it difficult to make out the words for the glare on the page. Giving up, he set the newspaper down on his lap and leaned back on the headboard with his eyes shut. Even with his eyes closed, the brightness of the morning sun snuck through his eyelids in a red glow. With a quiet sigh he opened them again and looked away from the windows as best he could. Though he enjoyed daylight well enough in moderation, he could do without it first thing in the morning. It was unforgiving, exaggerating his sharp features and sallow skin. He hadn’t really noticed his location initially as he blearily moved into the bathroom, despite it being in the wrong place, until he had a good look at himself in the bathroom mirror. The mirror had gasped at his appearance, but wisely said nothing more, remembering the previous evening’s treatment. There was even more light streaming into the bathroom, and he was reminded why there was no direct light in his own. His nose loomed large, not quite dwarfing his other features, but certainly overpowering them in the bright light. His hair hung limply, emphasizing his pale complection and the translucent skin beneath his eyes gave the impression of dark circles. It wasn’t a particularly appealing image to encounter first thing in the morning.

Hermione, on the other hand, was a tousled vision of loveliness. Her hair had grown somewhat since her last haircut over the Easter break and was splayed across her pillows haphazardly, several strands falling down across her eyes. He reached a finger down and brushed the offending locks away from her face and looked at her glowing skin in the morning light. Her eyes had lost most of their redness during the night, but still looked somewhat puffy, though from sleep or crying, he couldn’t be sure. Her skin was warm from sleep and her features appeared in perfect proportion, relaxed as they were. Severus hadn’t often had the opportunity to look at Hermione while she was sleeping, as she nearly always awoke before him. He often caught her examining him by the soft candlelight that lit his rooms early in the morning. Now, in the bright sunlight of her rooms, he wished for more time to observe her in this restful state. Not only because she looked peaceful, but also because he wasn’t certain what her mood would be when she awoke.

Throughout the past year, he had tried hard at helping his wife through the trials they had to face. He had, for the most part, ignored his own frustrations and concerns about the situation, not allowing it to get under his skin. He had developed a thick hide regarding many things over the past twenty years, it hadn’t been much to add another irritation to the list. He never wanted a wife and had been quite content on his own for years. As much as he had protested Albus’ idea initially, he could face the Marriage Act with equanimity. It wasn’t much of an imposition on his life at the time. He readily admitted now that, despite the stupidity of the act itself, it had been one of the best impositions ever made upon him. Severus was happy. Hermione was a pleasant companion, who could make intelligent conversation, and he had come to love her.

This morning, however, he had no idea what to expect from her. He may care a great deal for Hermione, but weeping women were definitely not his strong suit. He knew anger. He knew rage. He knew depression. He even knew about the nightmares which had woken her at one point during the night. It was the unstable middle ground that had nearly baffled him the previous evening. She had broken down into tears several times and he had no notion as to what precisely would set her off. It wasn’t that he didn’t have compassion for her mental turmoil, but her response to Malfoy’s attack was far different to what he was familiar with. After all, as a general rule, women in distress did not seek him out, and he very, very rarely was ever in a position to give comfort.

Severus continued to stroke her hair, combing it slightly with his fingers and settling the flyaway strands. Perhaps he was losing his edge, but nothing quite compared to sharing a bed with Hermione. He knew it wouldn’t be the same as it had been in the past for some time, but even if it took a long time for the weepiness and mood swings to pass, he would stay with her. She needed his support, both now and for the trial to be held in a month. As he sat there on Hermione’s bed, Kingsley and his team were looking for Lucius with a warrant for his arrest. Draco was already firmly ensconced in the Ministry holding cells, which gave him some degree of satisfaction. However, he wouldn’t be content until both Malfoy’s were in confinement.

For a moment, Severus considered getting up again and checking in with Kingsley to see if Lucius had been taken into custody. It was still fairly early and the chances of finding Shacklebolt in his office were slim and either way the potential news would make him want to leave the school bent on retribution. Instead he shifted closer to Hermione so that he could feel her knees pressed up against him. She had managed to curl herself up tightly sometime in the night, despite the soreness in her joints and he knew she would be uncomfortable when she woke. Hermione’s breathing was growing shallower, releasing in gentle puffs against the pillow and moving another stray lock of hair that had fallen back into her face. Severus brushed the hair back again and rested his hand on her head for a long moment before turning back to his newspaper and trying to read once more.

**********

When Hermione woke, she felt warm and safe. That is until she moved. She had slept with her feet tucked up and groaned when she stretched her legs out. Her foot connected with what felt like another leg and she gasped as her eyes flew open. Severus was sitting in bed beside her with a newspaper open on his lap. When he noticed her wake, he carefully folded it and tossed it onto the night stand beside him. He looked at her intently, but his dark eyes held a friendly warmth to them. “Morning. A bit stiff?”

She nodded and took several deep breaths to regain her composure. “I feel like I’ve been trampled by a hippogriff.”

He reached down a hand and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. “You should feel better after taking the potions Poppy instructed me to administer. We can go walking this morning to help you stretch.”

“No! I don’t want to leave here. It isn’t safe,” her voice rose in panic.

Severus shifted and lay back down in the bed, wrapping his arms around her securely. “I should have been there to protect you.”

“I knew about the threats. It’s my fault for not being more careful, for not being able to defend myself,” she mumbled against his chest.

“No, it isn’t your fault. There is no acceptable reason why anyone should have to walk fearful anymore. There wouldn’t have been if I had pressed charges sooner. I wanted one more solid piece of evidence, always one more, before bringing Lucius to court. The trial could have been over and done with by now,” he said with his voice filled with anguish.

“I don’t even have witnesses that he was there... No proof it wasn’t Draco alone...” she sighed dispiritedly and felt her eyes tear again.

He stroked her back soothingly and continued to hold her. “I know it is small consolation, but even without other witnesses your statement will be enough. The paperwork has been filed and it is very likely witnesses will speak under the influence of veritaserum. I’m not sure how to tell you this, but it will likely be a very high profile case.”

Hermione groaned again and started trembling. “I can’t... I won’t speak about it in front of strangers. No...”

“Shhh, it’s alright-”

“No it isn’t!”

“It isn’t an immediate concern. I have already received word that the trial date is set for the end of July. It is a necessary evil, but there is plenty of time to worry about it. For now it is most important that you get better,” he told her gently.

She pushed him away and lashed out at him angrily. “Get better?! Just wave a wand and everything will be set right! Is that what you think happens?! It’s nothing like that, Severus! Nothing! This isn’t some silly Quidditch injury that they fix up in a few minutes! Go away! Leave me alone! Get out!”

Severus was taken aback by her shouting and stood beside the bed looking at her sadly. “I’m sorry.”

“Leave!” she snapped ferociously.

With uncharacteristic complacency, he simply turned and exited the room. Hermione felt her anger deflate almost instantly when the door shut and collapsed back into a ball on the bed. For a few moments she shook as the adrenaline subsided, then sat up to look around. Her room, which had been so comforting before, now seemed sinister and small, like a trap. The sense of fear and ensnarement overwhelmed her again and she grabbed her wand before running out of her room.

Her legs were still stiff and unready for her sudden flight. She burst into the sitting room with a halting, uneven gait that threatened to send her sprawling to the floor. Her foot caught on the corner of a rug and she braced herself for a hard fall to an even harder stone floor only to be caught by a pair of strong hands. Hermione had squinted her eyes shut in anticipation of the fall and took a moment to realize that she was no longer moving rapidly towards a collision with the floor. Cracking an eye open, she saw Severus’ concerned face and began to cry again. He slid down the wall until he was seated with her cradled in his lap.

Hermione wailed, “I’m so miserable to you! You must think I’m losing my mind!”

Consoling hands stroked her hair and ran down her back. His voice was even and gentle. “You aren’t. I don’t pretend to know what you are experiencing just now, but I doubt your reactions are unusual.”

Her shoulders shuddered as she took several steadying breaths in an attempt to rein in her emotions. She sniffled and knuckled the salty tears from her eyes, speaking shakily. “I hate to think this is normal.”

“It will get better,” he assured her.

“How can you know that?” she demanded.

Severus stopped his rhythmic stroking and squeezed her shoulders tightly. “Because I have seen it. It won’t happen overnight, but in time...”

“Who?”

“It’s not for me to tell,” he replied shaking his head and lifted her chin to look at her. “I wish I could be of greater assistance to you, but I must concede that I feel rather helpless. I am capable of a great number of different retributions against the Malfoys from legal avenues to hexes and undetectable poisons, yet there is nothing I can do to change circumstances. There are potions that can calm nerves and enhance mood, but it is an artificial sense of well being. There are various ways of blocking or even removing the memory, though it is little more than an escape. Few of my talents are of particular use it seems.”

She nodded at his assessment of magical solutions to her turbulent state of mind. While huddled in her room the previous afternoon, she had seriously considered some sort of memory modification to make the attack disappear. Almost immediately she discounted this as a weak and cowardly thing to do, knowing it wouldn’t change what had happened, only allow her to run away from it. Calmed somewhat, she recognized that Severus must also feel distress over yesterday’s events. For a man such as he to be restrained from enacting swift revenge would also hold its own set of distressing and disturbing emotions. Cautiously she asked, “What are you feeling?”

He started, clearly not expecting her question. “It isn’t important.”

“It is. You have been wronged as well,” she said, surprising herself with her reasoning but unsure as to whether he would respond to her question.

“Well,” he began guardedly, “a great many things I suppose. I was very distressed when I was initially told, and extremely angry.”

“I’m sorry,” her voice was tremulous.

Severus shook his head. “I am irate about the situation, murderous towards both Malfoys and furious with myself, but never angry with you. I should have been there to protect you.”

“I should have been able to protect myself,” she said bitterly.

“That doesn’t mean you should have to. There shouldn’t be a need for it. You cannot live your life in constant fear. It isn’t really living.”

She slumped slightly and let out a long breath. “What happens now?”

Hermione shifted in his arms and he loosened his hold. “Breakfast.”

“Pardon?” she looked up at him, her brow furrowed.

He nodded towards her bedroom. “While I seek out something for breakfast, I suggest you dress for the day. After a proper meal, we will go walking on the grounds.”

She gave him a horror struck look. “I can’t!”

“You must. Poppy has told me it is essential that you walk to recover strength in your legs. She also stated that stairs should be avoided for the time being,” he said with calm insistence.

Hermione shook her head. “My face...”

With an appraising look, Severus offered, “A distraction charm will prevent others from seeing anything or even noticing us on the grounds. I think you will be surprised how much better you feel after a bit of fresh air outside.”

Taking another deep breath, she nodded, “Alright. If you insist.”

With another gentle squeeze of reassurance, he eased her off his lap and helped her off the floor and into the bedroom.
*********

On the whole, the day had been far better than she could have imagined. Severus had been patient and accommodating during their slow walk across the grounds. Hermione’s initial hesitation at leaving her room was replaced by the pleasure of a gentle morning breeze filling her lungs with fresh air. The awkward, painful movements of her legs had eased to the dull ache that comes from exercise. The walk had been short by necessity, but when they returned to her rooms she was flushed from the exertion, feeling life course through her again.

She and Severus spent the early afternoon packing up her belongings and prepared for the inevitable move out of the Head Girl’s room. A few waves of irrational sadness swept over her at times, but Hermione ruthlessly continued dismantling what had been her home for the past year. When all seemed to be taken care of, Severus wrapped her in his arms and held fast as the burgundy furnishings began to fade to white. Sniffling a little, Hermione refused to cry, telling herself that she had done plenty of that already.

A deep voice rumbled in Hermione’s ear, “You won’t have to leave a home again.”

“I know.”

“And your decorating skills won’t go astray. I want our house to be home. I want you to feel safe there.”

Hermione drew in her breath sharply at his words. “I don’t feel particularly safe here. What... I don’t know... Without Hogwarts’ protections I don’t know how I can feel safe.”

The arms around her tightened, holding her securely. “Albus and I are going to the house tomorrow to set up protections. If Albus Dumbledore can’t cast proper wards then no wizard alive can. Fear for personal safety is a fear I know well. I promise the house will be secure for both of us.”

“I know,” she nodded, “Part of me doesn’t want to leave Hogwarts at all, though.”

“Graduates generally find it a necessity,” he quipped, “Save those foolish enough to return as staff.”

The corners of Hermione’s lips tugged up a little at that then fell again. “Graduation... I forgot about the leaving feast.”

“Poppy has informed me that medically there is no reason why you cannot attend,” he offered gently.

“But everyone will be there... I’m sure everyone is already talking...”

“They aren’t. Only Madam Rosemerta, the two Weasleys and Mr Potter are aware of the nature of the incident yesterday. Your absence was explained away by Albus. It would be a shame for you to miss the dinner, commemorative as it is,” he assured her.

She didn’t respond to his comment, but instead nodded sadly, lost in thought. She was jarred from her thoughts by a knock at the door and had a sudden bereft feeling as Severus moved away from her to answer the knocking. Looking nervously towards the door she saw a head of flaming red hair poke in and smile faintly at her saying, “Weasley’s Hair Care Service.”

Ginny had the patience of a saint while taming Hermione’s wayward locks and contemplating which cosmetics to use to cover the green marks written across her face. In the end, they had been concealed both by way of a charm and cosmetics. Severus had left to take care of affairs in Slytherin and returned to find a Hermione transformed. Her eyes still held a look of wariness and the furrows of her brow gave away her worry, but her fresh school robes and determined expression made him smile.

During dinner, Hermione sat at her rightful place at the Gryffindor table acutely aware of the various people watching her. Still teetering on the brink of a teary breakdown, Severus’ dark gaze was comforting. Determined to see her last night as a student out properly, she straightened her shoulders and held her head high as the headmaster gave congratulations, awarded special honours and made a speech to the assembled student body. With the ceremonies concluded, there was a flurry of activity as students from all houses began talking, making arrangements for the summer and saying tearful goodbyes. Before the majority of the student body had left the Great Hall, Severus moved towards the Gryffindor table to rescue Hermione.

In the middle of a swarm of excited people she was growing increasingly agitated and was about to snap on the next unsuspecting individual to give her a congratulatory slap on the shoulder. The crowd around her parted as the Potions Master moved towards the table and offered his arm to the young witch. Grateful for the relief, she took his arm and settled against him in comfort and reassurance. Those assembled gaped at them for a moment and Severus actually smiled in amusement.

Nodding to the assembled graduates, mostly Gryffindors, he said, “Felicitations to all of you,” then turned to Hermione leaning closer, “and to you. Shall we?”

“Thank you, Severus. I’m ready to leave now,” she answered, ignoring the slack jawed stares of her peers.

As they retreated from the hall, she could hear the animated chatter of shocked and amused students. At the door to the hall she glanced back to see Harry watching her with a melancholy expression. Sharing a moment of silent communication she returned the expression and glanced up at the star flecked ceiling of the Great Hall, giving a silent thought to the friends she had lost and reminding herself that despite it all she was one of the lucky. Despite it all, she lived.

Looking back down again, she saw Harry, and surprisingly Severus, do the same thing. For a moment they stood, separated by dozens of chattering students, sharing each other’s thoughts. The moment ended when Ginny touched Harry’s shoulder and he turned towards her, away from Hermione. Looking up at Severus, she saw the contemplative expression he wore and leaned closer, whispering, “I know I am fortunate, it’s just hard to see sometimes.”
*********


GFeather- I have a lot of mixed emotions about this chapter... probably since I have been working on it for somewhere in the neighbourhood of 6 weeks. The majority of it has in acutal fact been written for some time, but I still feel awkward about the later part. I think Hermione is a very strong person who can\'t spend all her time moping around feeling sorry for herself, yet at the same time by trying to deny her emotions they often sneak up on her unannounced. I feel she attended the Leaving feast ruled by her strong side, determined to at the very least go through the motions after working so hard to complete school. She is also smart enough to know she would deeply regret it later if she didn\'t. And in my mind that is how I justify it.