Of Days and Ends

A/N: Okay, so before I let you get to this chapter, I wanted to tell you about an observation of mine.


I just really want to give you an idea of how things are for the authors on this site. What was most surprising to me was that we as writers typically only manage to earn 1% of the readers’ reviews! Crazy, huh?



Anway, please enjoy!

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Chapter 38—Suspect



“Nymphadora Tonks.”



“Nymphadora Tonks.”



“You’re serious.” He said, dumbfounded.



“Completely.” Hermione had stepped through the floo and approached Severus in the middle of working at the large wooden desk in the library.



Brushing the soot off of the long, flowing, white summer dress she wore, Severus noted that she wore no shoes. She approached, and he narrowed his eyes as the little white toenails poked out with each step. His eyes travelled upward to the pregnant swell of her belly and the increasing roundness of her breasts, lingering momentarily on the evidence of his child. A vibrant yellow Citrine pendant glowed softly at the dip of her breasts perched just above her cleavage. His child’s essence was causing the light to shine brightly. As his gaze travelled upward, he registered the gown’s sleeves that settled off the shoulders. He continued his perusal of her form to settle briefly on her gentle smile and youthfully rosy cheeks. The hand that came up to brush through her hair was also decorated in white, and he found himself raising an eyebrow. Someone had gotten their hands on her hair, and it fell in silky, manageable locks around her shoulders, and… was that eyeliner?



“To whom do I owe the pleasure of a veritably fertile, barefoot beauty in my ancestral home?” Snape asked.



“To Lavender. It was a baby shower gift, I just got around to wearing it.”



“And why, may I ask, are you so… done up?”



“I told you it was Lavender’s birthday today.”



“So you received gifts?”



“Lavender gave this to me at the baby shower, but she insisted that this—” she gestured over her body, “—is what she wanted most for her birthday.”



“Uh-huh… and you are barefoot?”



“It’s a nice warm day and I wanted to relax a bit. Besides, my ankles are swelling a bit.”



Snape raised his wand, waved it about, and conjured a nice, squashy arm chair for her to settle into. Instead, she walked around the desk to sit on his arm rest and place a gentle peck on his temple. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and pushed his chair back enough to make room for her on his lap.



She accepted his gesture and began to expound upon her original proclamation. “I believe Tonks might be the traitor because—”



“Oh, Hermione! Tonks? Of all the people in the Order, you chose one of the most prominent and innocuous aurors in the Ministry of Magic! She is the daughter of Andromeda Tonks and Theodore Tonks. Andromeda’s maiden name is Black and Ted Tonks is a muggle!”



Hermione’s eyebrows rose at this and she suddenly realized that she had never seen Ted with a wand. A blush rose to her cheeks, and she suddenly felt very small and insignificant. She allowed Snape to reprimand her without interruption.



Snape finished upbraiding her and sighed. “I assume,” he said, returning his quill to the spidery bondage of his slender, white fingers, “that you came to this conclusion, because Tonks knows about us.” It wasn’t a question. It was more like a statement of fact.



“She has a strong suspicion.”



Snape breathed dramatically through his lips and looked up as Hermione tried to hide her sheepish expression. He looked her over again. She was much too tempting in that dress. Lavendar certainly was a cunning witch. Shaking those distracting thoughts from his mind, Snape cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk with you about Percy Weasley.”



“Percy? Why Percy?”



“Has he been to any Order meetings?”



“No.”



Snape nodded and sat back, steepling his fingers, “Have you considered the newest recruits?”



“Lavendar is a half-blood, so if we were to use the same criteria that you did, she doesn’t fit. Ginny is from the most tolerant family in all of Wizarding England. Neville Longbottom’s parents were made insane by the Lestranges under Voldemort’s orders, and… oh yes! Luna Lovegood will be inducted soon but she and Ginny won’t be at the order again until December so—”



“I’ve no worries about Miss Lovegood.”



Hermione nodded and ran a hand through her fringe with thought.



“How about Krum?”



“He’s fed us such important international information, and been too instrumental at raids—”



Snape scowled, “Have you been going on raids?”



“Only three.” She answered.



“In your state!”



“I’ve not been made incompetent!”



“Only in the care of your unborn!”



“That was—ooh!” She made to stand, but he held her in place.



“I apologize.” A direct apology from Severus Snape! Hermione was frozen in place. It had sounded so natural that she wasn’t sure that he was the one to have said it. Maybe she had imagined it. “That was wrong of me. You have been taking excellent care of yourself, and you are a very competent witch.”



Hermione settle back in his lap and Snape sighed, scratching an angry red message on the top of a request from Professor Flitwick for the release of a few of his students from the detention hall for the graduation ceremony. Hermione averted her eyes politely. “You may look if you’d like.”



She blushed, “Thank you.”



He moved through another stack of parchment with amazing speed and prowess, approving detention assignment after assignment. The Carrows, based upon what Hermione could read before Snape had finished scanning, signing, and putting aside, were torturing the students. She felt a cold dread shoot up her spine and shivered. She continued to watch, much as one does any tragic event, with a morbid fascination, but remained quiet until Ginny’s name came up.



“Ginny!”



“Yes.” Snape drawled, “She’s been quite the hero.” He scratched a note on the bottom of the parchment and Hermione gasped.



“Severus! They already want to hang her by her ankles in the dungeons and flog her for an hour! Why are you adding to it?”



Snape frowned deeper, “I’m supposed to hate the girl, Hermione. Besides, she’s made something of an art of sacrificing herself. She keeps the school rallied and united.”



“Hmm…”



Snape finally put down his quill, and leaned back to see her face a bit better. “You would make an abysmal Death Eater.” He said, rubbing a finger against the gather between her eyebrows.



She transfigured the chair into a long couch and shifted herself to the cushions beside him. “Why, Headmaster Snape, that’s just about the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”



“Hm… Speaking of sweet, your mother made a cake.”



“Really?”



“Really.”



They were silent for a long moment, content to simply sit. Severus twirled her hair around his fingers, surveying the greyish-brown coloured ends that were slowly regaining their original pigments. Hermione tapped and fiddled with the gold buttons that ran up the front of his frockcoat.



“Why do you have a coat on?”



“I’m keeping the Bayroot near my body heat. It helps the juice to loosen inside so I can squeeze it out and get the full measure using fewer blooms. Besides, I have found that Bayroots absorb magic and it causes the juices to ferment into a more powerful concoction.”



Hermione’s eyebrows raised, “More Seperating Potion?”



Snape simply nodded.



Hermione stifled the irrational anger that rose within her. One couldn’t be separated from someone they were already unconnected to. That insult couldn’t be paid twice. Yet there was still a tightening feeling around her heart and she suddenly wanted to go back home.



Home…



She had no home anymore. Her parents’ home was burned down, she couldn’t really go back to Hogwarts, Order Headquarters felt like a war bunker, Harry and Ron had abandoned her, and Snape was no longer her husband. Where did she belong? And yet the answer was crystal-clear to her.



Hermione’s silence mixed with the consternation on her face, alerted Snape to her silent battle with herself, but Snape knew to be quiet and still. This particular struggle was hers. They were coming to understand each other very well, and now, Snape knew to allow her mind time to churn.



He watched her stomach as it rose and fell with the rhythm of her breathing. Her pregnancy had been uncannily easy. She was nearing 6 months and was prone to emotional bouts of tears, anger, fleeting exhaustion, and some of the oddest food cravings he had ever seen, but it had been, thus far, free of complications.



Nearly 18 years ago, he had followed Lily’s pregnancy obsessively, finding it easy to pretend that the lump in her belly was his. She had had morning sickness religiously in the first few months. She had craved bell peppers and milk, finding an odd pleasure in dunking the peppers like biscuits. He used to laugh when Harry had reached the third trimester and took to shocking her, leaving scorch marks at the bellybutton of most dresses.



She would have been terrified to know that Snape had been lurking in the shadows and beneath windowsills under the disillusionment charm, but he was compelled. He was in love with Lily Evans. He refused to call her by that filthy man’s name.



Resisting killing James on a daily basis at school had been hard enough, but doing the same when he was in his home with Lily, wrapping her in his arms, kissing her blissfully, unclothing her, and revealing “his” child’s bump to the open air… was next to impossible, and still, he had managed. He couldn’t hurt his Lily that way. Snape hated James vehemently, and felt, every day, as though he had somehow extorted Lily’s love away from him.



Then, when she had given birth and the child was black haired and chubby cheeked and excitable, Snape felt an odd sort of paternal pride. Lily had written him shortly after the child’s birth. He still had the letter. He had everything Lily gave him. She had told him about her beautiful baby boy. She went on about his colic and keeping them up at night, but Severus ignored any mention of James’ struggles. He preferred to pretend that he didn’t exist and brewed a potion for “his” boy. He knew it would settle the little tyke’s stomach.



Snape continued to drop in on the family, despite the risk of the Dark Lord finding out about his obsession. He watched Harry grow, and it became impossible to pretend that the dark-haired creature with his Lily’s eyes was his own. He began to realize that Lily really had left him behind.



Originally, Snape had taken his anger out on the other Death Eater’s, rising quickly in the ranks as his explosive temper made him prone to brilliant displays of magic and ruthless attacks. Voldemort admired him deeply and took him by his side among Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Black, Quirinus Quirrell, Bartemius Crouch Jr., and Regulus Black. They were a young, but dedicated team, and Voldemort taught them some of his greatest secrets at his feet. The power hunger that brought the others did not similarly affect Snape and Voldemort recognized the difference in him immediately. It was then, early on, that Snape was used on many separate missions for Voldemort.



When Snape had betrayed her, Voldemort had looked at him levelly. “Do you understand what you’ve brought to me, Severus?”



Snape looked up into the face of Voldemort. He had been so much more handsome in those days. He appeared human, youthful, strong… “Yes, My Lord. The Potters and the Longbottoms both have sons born at the end of July.”



“Don’t you love the mudblood, Severus?” Voldemort asked curiously, “Why would you give me information that could kill her?”



“My Lord, I give you this information because you are my first devotion. I have learned, at your feet, secrets that no one else has been taught, and I wish only to serve you.”



It was only the two of them in the grand foyer of Severus’ recently purchased Spinner’s End. Voldemort had been staying with Severus for the last week. Voldemort leaned down to Snape’s genuflecting form, and raised his eyes to his own. After a moment of uninhibited mind-probing, Voldemort smiled slowly, “What boon do you request, Severus?”



“I only ask that you don’t harm Lily.”



“As long as the witch doesn’t fight me, I won’t hurt her.”



“My Lord, forgive me, but would you make the unbreakable vow?”



Voldemort became outraged and yanked Snape’s face up within inches of his own, bathing his frontage in his warm, spicy breath and small particles of spittle. “YOU DARE TO ASK ME FOR AN UNBREAKABLE VOW? I AM LORD VOLDEMORT, AND YOU ARE NOBODY, BUT I STILL TAKE YOU UNDER MY WING! YOU WILL NEVER AGAIN HAVE THE TEMERITY TO MAKE SUCH AN IMPERTANENT REQUEST! YOU WILL TRUST YOUR LORD ABSOLUTELY, AND KEEP IN MIND THAT ANYTHING I DO, I DO FOR MY OWN REASONS AND YOU DON’T HAVE TO UNDERSTAND!”



Snape trembled, fearing that he had just sealed Lily’s death warrant. Voldemort threw him to the ground, and he quickly scrambled to his feet. “MY LORD!” He shouted after the Dark Wizard’s retreating form, “MY LORD, WILL YOU HONOR MY REQUEST?” Voldemort disappeared around the corner. “MY LORD! MY LORD!”



He stood quivering in the foyer for several long minutes, his mind blank. He had to do something to rectify his blunder. He had to protect her, so he went to his study and immediately sent a very simple note to the only person he knew would understand exactly how to handle the situation. Albus Dumbledore received Snape’s owl and immediately put a plan in action. Albus himself put the Fidelis charm on their home in Godric’s Hollow, and the Potters moved back in.



For his disobedience, Snape paid dearly. The



They hadn’t been safe, and Lily most definitely wasn’t. Voldemort had gone to Snape just before he left and warded him in his living room. By the time Snape broke through Voldemort’s wards and tried to apparate to the Potters’ House, he realized that Voldemort had set up an anti-apparation ward and apparated instead to the edge of Godrick’s Hollow. He ran faster than he ever had before, past rows and rows of magical homes. He knew where he was headed and the blur of his tears as they poured from his eyes didn’t slow him down at all.



A sudden green streak exploded into a huge green skull with a snake’s tongue in the sky over the house at the far side of the cul-de-sac. He was almost there. He could hear Lily pleading on her child’s behalf, the high, cold cackle of the Dark Lord, the dreaded words…



“Now you’re thinking too much.” Hermione said, interrupting his thoughts.



Snape sighed and squeezed her a little. “That I was.”



She watched him as he stroked her hair through her long fringe a couple more times before turning to look down his long nose at her. He was amused by the fact that he had once looked at her hair and wondered if anything might be living in it, not that it had ever been dirty, but it was always so large and out of control, seeming to have a mind of its own. He couldn’t count how many times he had watched her smooth her hair away from some simmering cauldron only for it to spring back into her face in a fuzzy puff. He was happy to see her allow it to grow long, because the weight of it dragged her frazzled locks into something wild, but manageable. Putting ribbons and other pieces into her hair was like putting a tiger in a cage. Her face had once seemed so plain to him, but now, as his eyes followed the curves, peaks, and valleys of her frontage, he could find no flaws. He tried to see them. He tried to nitpick, but was unable to see a single flaw.



“What?” She asked finally, “You’ve been doing that all day.”



“Hm?”



“Looking at me. You don’t like the glamours do you?”



“You look beautiful, but you know I don’t need it.”



“Well, I know. I just thought—just this once, y’know? Just for you.” She couldn’t meet his eyes as she confessed it.



They sat in silence for a while and Snape was so comfortable in her presence that he didn’t notice how uncomfortable she was with his thoughtful demeanour.



“Severus?”



“Hmm...”



“I hope you’re not thinking about that night with Pansy—”



“What? No! Of course not! Why would I be thinking of her when I’m here with y—”



“Stop, stop, stop! Severus, I was serious when I said I forgive you for it! You don’t have to fret about it! You did what you had to do. Voldemort’s a ruthless bastard.”



“I really wasn’t thinking about that.”



“Then why do you look so tortured?” He was quiet for a moment, so she sighed and continued. “Regardless of what it is or who you offended, I want you to know that I’m proud of who you turned out to be 100%, and I know it sounds corny, but on behalf of those people, I forgive you.”



He watched her long, blackened lashes flutter to her cheeks. Yes, this creature was somehow different to him. Absentmindedly, he found himself fingering the wand she had stashed in her hair, pulling it from her locks. He was startled to find that the magic that decided wand ownership was recognizing him in a way that he couldn’t readily describe. It was as though the wand he held in his hand was a cousin to his own.



As her locks tumbled free in a massive curly cloud, Hermione looked up at him with her eyebrows furrowed before her confusion was smoothed over with curiosity. Snape waved the wand gently though the air and a thrill of unfamiliar magic swept through him, bursting forth from the wand in dozens of tiny little flowers.



In response, Hermione scrambled up.



“Interesting.” Snape said into the silence.



“But how—”



“I don’t know.”



“But I thought we—”



“We did.”



They sat together in thought for a while.



“Could it be—”



“Our child? Yes, I was thinking the same thing, but I’ve never heard of an unborn child bonding the parents.”



Hermione looked down for a moment. “But were we bonded when I conceived?”



“Yes.”



“You’re so sure?”



“We hadn’t had sex at all between the day we took the separating potion and the day after I told you you were pregnant.”



“Oh yeah…” Hermione sighed, “Wow…” Then with a broad smile she adjusted herself on the couch so that her back was supported by the armrest and ran a hand through Snape’s hair. “Severus, have you considered names?”



Snape shook his head. “That’s entirely up to you. After all, you’ll be doing all the work.”



“Well, I do want to know what you think of two names.”



“Hmm?” Snape was being lulled into a sleepy state by her fingers.



“If it’s a boy, I was thinking about Sabyn.”



Snape raised an eyebrow and looked at her through one eye before pressing his lips in a tight line.



“Is that a no?”



“I said no such thing.”



“Uh… okay then. So you do—”



“…not care! I don’t really think it’s my place in this case.”



“Okay. Then I was thinking about Eileen for a girl.”



“Absolutely not.”



“What?” Hermione scowled with confusion. “You just said—!”



Snape interjected. “It’s not my place excepting the case of a name that will make it harder to like that child.”



“But—!”



“But, nothing, Hermione. My mother may seem like a nice, sweet woman in her picture frame—frozen for all time in her youth.” He cast an angry look at the closed box that housed his mother’s portrait. “But you never knew her as an adult woman. She was weak and a pathetic mother.”



Hermione shuddered at his cruel depiction of his mother. If that was how he thought of the woman who gave birth to him, how would he feel about her when she finally gave birth?



Noticing Hermione’s discomfort, Snape sighed and pulled her against his chest. “I know that our child will be different. You are far from my mother and I am not my father.” The intensity with which Snape said “not” alarmed Hermione. It was as though he was trying to convince himself that he was unlike his father. “But—” he paused to kiss her temple and cradle her large belly in his hands, feeling the baby kick gleefully. “—I would prefer to be unencumbered by that name association.”



“I see.”



“Do you?” Snape asked, turning her head up so that her eyes met his.



“I do.” She said. Snape shivered against the onslaught of emotion that coursed through his body at her affirmative word choice. He quickly passed it off as a twitch and placed a kiss on her lips.



She smiled and he gave her another kiss, then another, and another before the kiss deepened. She moaned and he mumbled, “How about Sable?” against her lips.



Hermione tested the name out, “Sable.” That was a good name. “We’ll see.”



They sat cuddling in the seat with a shared contentment. Sable. The baby kicked delightedly, and Hermione moved Snape’s hand over the area. When he smiled quite genuinely, Hermione knew that she was making herself too vulnerable to him. No matter how hard she tried, however, she could not distance herself from him. She closed her eyes and imagined the words spilling forth from his mouth as his lips descended upon hers again, but protecting herself as best she could, she said nothing aloud.



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A/N: Thank you everyone for reading this chapter. I only have a few left and they will be jam packed with action and stuff. Like the next chapter for example. It is called “Deadline Passed”.



Special thanks to:



1-- catysmom

2-- Queen_Celestia

3-- meankitty69

4-- johanna3030

5-- slytherin-princess

5-- pstibbons

6-- Lady_of_Clunn

7-- sslover

8-- openthedoor

9-- Sureves Epans

9-- JunoMagic

9-- lilmisblack

10-- Jen618



Also thank you very much to my first time reviewers LovableLoser, BitteninParadise, and crissy. Everybody say hi!