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Beneficent Stranger
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
5,314
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
5,314
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter Five
Beneficent Stranger
Chapter Five
Nimue’s Gift
“Hermione,” the dark silk of his voice caressing the syllables of her name.
She turned, a thrill of pleasure racing up her spine followed by a bolt of fear shafting through her soul. Words fled from her tongue, action drained from her body. They stood there each gazing at the other for a few silent moments.
Her soft tongue darted out and across her lower lip, and with a deep drawn breath she finally answered, “I was right. It is you.”
He answered her with a slight bow and stepped a bit closer to her. It was rare for him to be at a loss for words, yet standing before this woman, dressed as she was, looking as she did left the inside of his mouth like sand.
She drew another breath and flashed him a small smile as she sat back down on the cushion she had just left. He noticed the slight tremor of her hands as she swept one in the direction of the opposite cushion in invitation for him to sit.
He obliged her, sitting silently next to her. Close enough to be able to reach out and caress her cheek, should he find the courage to, yet far enough away to allow either one of them to move if they so desired. Silence descended upon them again, broken only by the occasional whisper of a sudden soft breeze or the tweep of a night bird singing in the hedge.
Hermione made a great show of studying her painted toes, for she had followed the instructions of the letter, to remain barefooted for the ceremony. He vaguely noticed that she had painted them a shade of deep silver and that a red garnet graced a toe in the form of a ring. He found the placement of the jewel oddly arousing.
“I cannot even begin to say to you all of the things I told myself I would say, Severus.”
Her voice, smooth and quiet flowed into the silvery darkness and caressed his ears, the sound of his name on her lips maddening. He glanced at her, his dark eyes glistening. “Don’t-“
“I won’t,” she interrupted. “ I know that you want no thanks, it is the reason you desired to be unknown. I will comply with your wishes.”
“Thank you, Hermione,” he breathed.
“I actually can’t believe that you are here,” she murmured. “Not that I am complaining, but I thought that perhaps you did not care.”
He let the statement go unanswered, for it required word that he was not ready to say. Instead he asked the question that had been floating unasked in his mind since last night, “When did you know it was me?”
She glanced sideways at him, a coquettish look in her eye and smiled, “Why since last year, of course.” She laughed at the quickly concealed look of surprise that flashed across his features. “Well, I suspected at least.”
She rose and walked to a hedge, plucking a leaf from a stem and worrying it with her fingers. His eyes followed her, drinking in the way the moonlight played with her wild hair, making the stray bits glow like a halo. She bit her lower lip and said, “When my parents were killed, you were the one to tell me. You were there with me and Professor McGonagall as we settled what was left of their estate. I heard you, you know, that night while I waited outside of Professor Dumbledore’s office. I heard you raise your voice, heard your anger.”
“You heard the conversation?” he asked quietly, grateful for the darkness that concealed the flush of embarrassment that stole across his scimitar cheeks.
“No!” she answered quickly. “I merely heard the tone, not the words. Then he sent me away to bed and I slept not a wink. I couldn’t even cry.”
She let the decimated leaf drop to the grass and she turned and plucked another. She glanced up, quickly meeting his eyes. “And then, two days later the offer came. You know the rest. I really knew for sure it was you about six months ago, after you sent me the books. That gift, of distraction I think was its purpose, confirmed my thoughts.”
“I see,” he answered quietly, his voice warm and rich. “And what had you been thinking before?”
He had to know, for she had never listed her suspicions succinctly in the journal of letters. She smiled at him, and his heart fluttered beneath his breast. She let her hand fall to her side, the mangled remains of the leaf fluttering in pieces to the grass next to its counterpart, and walked to him.
“Oh there were subtle things that I noticed. For instance you made it more of a point to ignore me in class, and no matter how I tried your patience you never really reacted as you had before. There were times when I sensed a presence with me as I made my rounds, times when I awoke in Astronomy Tower or the Library with a blanket to cover me. There were many little things, but perhaps the most telling was the way you protected me from Voldemort on that final day.”
His eyebrow arched nearly to his hairline at that, he hadn’t been aware of the protection he had lent her until many hours later as he watched her sleep in the Infirmary. She smiled a rueful smile.
“I didn’t realize it at first, all I remember is feeling the shield around me, feeling the sudden rush of energy and then seeing you, standing there by my bed. Watching me sleep.”
She watched his Adams Apple bob up and down the long column of his pale white throat. Her breath catching with his as the full import of her words struck home. She had never imagined seeing him like this, pale in the moonlight yet blending with the dark. Eyes glistening like onyx, lips tight and straight. She wanted to kiss him then and there, but dared not. He could still run away, his body was singing for him to do so. Confusion, fear and want rippled off of him like waves on a dark lake.
“You saw me?”
She smiled at the question, at the ill concealed surprise of his tone. “I was awake, or I should say I awoke as you turned and left me. It was Professor Dumbledore’s voice that awoke me. I did the only thing I could think of, I pretended to sleep. Although I know that Dumbledore wasn’t fooled. He offered me a lemon drop after you left.”
This elicited a reaction from him that she never thought to see, although she had sworn to make it happen one day, a smile. She blinked rapidly at the sight and timidly returned it.
“You smiled,” she murmured.
“I am capable,” came the rumbled response.
She had the grace to look chagrined, “I ‘m sure, but it’s never been seen by a student before.”
He stood and whispered, “Yes I know, but you are no longer a student.”
She started, like a unicorn discovered by a human, and he reached out a hand, placing it lightly on an arm. She drew breath and looked up at him towering over him as the darkness of his cloak brushed against the silver-crème of her gown in the gentle breeze that now stirred.
“No, I’m not,” she whispered in trembling reply.
‘Would he kiss her now?’ she wondered. His hand, she could feel was trembling slightly against her arm, her heart was pounding in her chest. He traced the lines of her face with his eyes, following it along and down to her neck where the tumult of her heart made itself visible beneath her skin.
“I am a taciturn man Hermione,” he said. “I don’t know what you expect of me, but moonlight and roses aren’t my nature.”
She breathed a sigh, “I’m rather allergic to roses actually.”
His hand dropped to his side and he sat down again on his cushion. “Hermione, Hermione what am I to do with you?” he asked softly.
She sat down beside him, this time closer and said softly, “You could kiss me for starters.”
Time stood still, as neither one drew breath. Her boldness had startled them both, yet she had no time to feel the full impact of the embarrassment creeping through her veins for her face was suddenly cupped in his hands and his lips were descending on hers.
The first touch of her lips to his ignited the long banked fire in his soul, the sweetness of her kiss softening the normal hardness of his lips to the possessiveness that sent shivers down her spine.
So enraptured in their kiss, neither noticed the fleeting look of satisfaction on Nimue’s face.
A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed, and for your patience while I work through my personal problems. They are still there but things are gradually getting better, I thank you all for your thoughts and good wishes.
Alas this is nearly the end of this tale, I am thinking of an epilogue however. Please let me know what you think of the story by reviewing. They cheer me through these rough days.
Live long and prosper,
Titania
Chapter Five
Nimue’s Gift
“Hermione,” the dark silk of his voice caressing the syllables of her name.
She turned, a thrill of pleasure racing up her spine followed by a bolt of fear shafting through her soul. Words fled from her tongue, action drained from her body. They stood there each gazing at the other for a few silent moments.
Her soft tongue darted out and across her lower lip, and with a deep drawn breath she finally answered, “I was right. It is you.”
He answered her with a slight bow and stepped a bit closer to her. It was rare for him to be at a loss for words, yet standing before this woman, dressed as she was, looking as she did left the inside of his mouth like sand.
She drew another breath and flashed him a small smile as she sat back down on the cushion she had just left. He noticed the slight tremor of her hands as she swept one in the direction of the opposite cushion in invitation for him to sit.
He obliged her, sitting silently next to her. Close enough to be able to reach out and caress her cheek, should he find the courage to, yet far enough away to allow either one of them to move if they so desired. Silence descended upon them again, broken only by the occasional whisper of a sudden soft breeze or the tweep of a night bird singing in the hedge.
Hermione made a great show of studying her painted toes, for she had followed the instructions of the letter, to remain barefooted for the ceremony. He vaguely noticed that she had painted them a shade of deep silver and that a red garnet graced a toe in the form of a ring. He found the placement of the jewel oddly arousing.
“I cannot even begin to say to you all of the things I told myself I would say, Severus.”
Her voice, smooth and quiet flowed into the silvery darkness and caressed his ears, the sound of his name on her lips maddening. He glanced at her, his dark eyes glistening. “Don’t-“
“I won’t,” she interrupted. “ I know that you want no thanks, it is the reason you desired to be unknown. I will comply with your wishes.”
“Thank you, Hermione,” he breathed.
“I actually can’t believe that you are here,” she murmured. “Not that I am complaining, but I thought that perhaps you did not care.”
He let the statement go unanswered, for it required word that he was not ready to say. Instead he asked the question that had been floating unasked in his mind since last night, “When did you know it was me?”
She glanced sideways at him, a coquettish look in her eye and smiled, “Why since last year, of course.” She laughed at the quickly concealed look of surprise that flashed across his features. “Well, I suspected at least.”
She rose and walked to a hedge, plucking a leaf from a stem and worrying it with her fingers. His eyes followed her, drinking in the way the moonlight played with her wild hair, making the stray bits glow like a halo. She bit her lower lip and said, “When my parents were killed, you were the one to tell me. You were there with me and Professor McGonagall as we settled what was left of their estate. I heard you, you know, that night while I waited outside of Professor Dumbledore’s office. I heard you raise your voice, heard your anger.”
“You heard the conversation?” he asked quietly, grateful for the darkness that concealed the flush of embarrassment that stole across his scimitar cheeks.
“No!” she answered quickly. “I merely heard the tone, not the words. Then he sent me away to bed and I slept not a wink. I couldn’t even cry.”
She let the decimated leaf drop to the grass and she turned and plucked another. She glanced up, quickly meeting his eyes. “And then, two days later the offer came. You know the rest. I really knew for sure it was you about six months ago, after you sent me the books. That gift, of distraction I think was its purpose, confirmed my thoughts.”
“I see,” he answered quietly, his voice warm and rich. “And what had you been thinking before?”
He had to know, for she had never listed her suspicions succinctly in the journal of letters. She smiled at him, and his heart fluttered beneath his breast. She let her hand fall to her side, the mangled remains of the leaf fluttering in pieces to the grass next to its counterpart, and walked to him.
“Oh there were subtle things that I noticed. For instance you made it more of a point to ignore me in class, and no matter how I tried your patience you never really reacted as you had before. There were times when I sensed a presence with me as I made my rounds, times when I awoke in Astronomy Tower or the Library with a blanket to cover me. There were many little things, but perhaps the most telling was the way you protected me from Voldemort on that final day.”
His eyebrow arched nearly to his hairline at that, he hadn’t been aware of the protection he had lent her until many hours later as he watched her sleep in the Infirmary. She smiled a rueful smile.
“I didn’t realize it at first, all I remember is feeling the shield around me, feeling the sudden rush of energy and then seeing you, standing there by my bed. Watching me sleep.”
She watched his Adams Apple bob up and down the long column of his pale white throat. Her breath catching with his as the full import of her words struck home. She had never imagined seeing him like this, pale in the moonlight yet blending with the dark. Eyes glistening like onyx, lips tight and straight. She wanted to kiss him then and there, but dared not. He could still run away, his body was singing for him to do so. Confusion, fear and want rippled off of him like waves on a dark lake.
“You saw me?”
She smiled at the question, at the ill concealed surprise of his tone. “I was awake, or I should say I awoke as you turned and left me. It was Professor Dumbledore’s voice that awoke me. I did the only thing I could think of, I pretended to sleep. Although I know that Dumbledore wasn’t fooled. He offered me a lemon drop after you left.”
This elicited a reaction from him that she never thought to see, although she had sworn to make it happen one day, a smile. She blinked rapidly at the sight and timidly returned it.
“You smiled,” she murmured.
“I am capable,” came the rumbled response.
She had the grace to look chagrined, “I ‘m sure, but it’s never been seen by a student before.”
He stood and whispered, “Yes I know, but you are no longer a student.”
She started, like a unicorn discovered by a human, and he reached out a hand, placing it lightly on an arm. She drew breath and looked up at him towering over him as the darkness of his cloak brushed against the silver-crème of her gown in the gentle breeze that now stirred.
“No, I’m not,” she whispered in trembling reply.
‘Would he kiss her now?’ she wondered. His hand, she could feel was trembling slightly against her arm, her heart was pounding in her chest. He traced the lines of her face with his eyes, following it along and down to her neck where the tumult of her heart made itself visible beneath her skin.
“I am a taciturn man Hermione,” he said. “I don’t know what you expect of me, but moonlight and roses aren’t my nature.”
She breathed a sigh, “I’m rather allergic to roses actually.”
His hand dropped to his side and he sat down again on his cushion. “Hermione, Hermione what am I to do with you?” he asked softly.
She sat down beside him, this time closer and said softly, “You could kiss me for starters.”
Time stood still, as neither one drew breath. Her boldness had startled them both, yet she had no time to feel the full impact of the embarrassment creeping through her veins for her face was suddenly cupped in his hands and his lips were descending on hers.
The first touch of her lips to his ignited the long banked fire in his soul, the sweetness of her kiss softening the normal hardness of his lips to the possessiveness that sent shivers down her spine.
So enraptured in their kiss, neither noticed the fleeting look of satisfaction on Nimue’s face.
A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed, and for your patience while I work through my personal problems. They are still there but things are gradually getting better, I thank you all for your thoughts and good wishes.
Alas this is nearly the end of this tale, I am thinking of an epilogue however. Please let me know what you think of the story by reviewing. They cheer me through these rough days.
Live long and prosper,
Titania