Binding Ties

Binding Ties

Chapter Five
Sweet Dreams

A warm touch caressed her cheek. Hermione nestled against the welcomed gesture; it was all she had before she woke up from this wonderful dream. Alas, that was all it had been. She had simply dreamed going to that pub. Meeting Snape there, also, must have been a dream. In real life he would not have danced so lightly, nor kissed her after years apart. No, Snape was dead. His body was still in the Shrieking Shack where no one had ever retrieved him.

She heard Rose’s voice and assured herself that her night had been nothing more than a fantasy; she would open her eyes to see Ron’s flaming hair and her own hand on her cheek. Hermione’s thick, nearly black eyelashes fluttered open. Standing above her was a tall man dressed all in black. Her first wild thought that this was an Undertaker. Clearing her mind with a few rapid blinks, she found the man to be Severus Snape.

“I heard my Rosie,” Hermione tripped over the words, looking around and not recognizing where she was.

“You most likely heard her voice through the venting system. We are at the Potters’. If I know Mrs. Potter, then she is not apt to worry your children with the thought of you, near death,” Snape said in a measured voice. His dark eyes spelled out many things, none of which Hermione could read.

“N-near death?”

“It appears that either the barman or a stranger poisoned your drink. In my alarm, I lost all reasonable thought, bringing you to the only Healer I know, though I had the cure on my person.” Snape shifted a dark smile and sat near her feet.

“I have to go home. I shouldn’t be…” Hermione started, before remembering where that excuse had taken her before.

“Potter has graciously opened his home to me as long as I need to nurse you to health. I am afraid I must insist that you stay at least one more day.”

“Snape,” Hermione started. Snape hissed an interruption.

“Please, call me Severus.”

“Severus,” Hermione started again, but lost her train of thought. Her mind lingered on this kiss that she had shared with him in the shadows of that pub. It then flicked across Harry’s housing arrangements, falling onto her lousy husband. Hermione was torn between two decisions: returning to her husband this instant, with the knowledge that she had given up something she had always wished for, or remaining in Severus’ presence. She rationalized the latter. I need only stay another day. Harry will not bother us. I can make a better decision.

“You are correct. Potter might only check for your health, in which case you can remain asleep,” Severus remarked. Hermione shot him a furious glare for intruding her mind.

“Please remain outside of my thoughts, Severus. You do not understand what I am facing here.”

“I may not understand what things you are facing, but I know what they are. You face me, something new. I endanger all that you know, including your heart. You face your husband, the man who has long given you most everything you needed. You face a decision between your routine life and the new things my presence will bring. One choice is new, exciting, yet terrifying. The other is boring, orthodox, and yet safe.“

“You know all of these things and yet you do not push me one way or the other? You simply stand there, waiting for my decision?” Hermione asked, incredulously.

“It is only your decision to make. You must either break a promise made in your youth, or force yourself to return to something you no longer want. Both sides will have consequences. You, Mrs. Weasley, are the only one who can make this choice.”

“Do I have to decide now?”

“I do not think so. You can stay here another day, and I will take care of you. Pretend to sleep for them, or not, that choice is yours. At the end of that day, should you need more time, with me, to consider, I will bring you to my house so as not to intrude on Potter or his family. There you will be protected from constant visitors and have almost an entire house to yourself to sit and ponder as long as you want.”

“I must say that I enjoy the prospect of being allowed more time. If you really mean what you say, then I have questions for you. And yes, I will need time to think. First, however, I must insist you call me Hermione.”

Severus closed the distance between them warily, but Hermione was one step ahead. She leaned into his warmth and brushed her lips across his. Taking this as a cue for the go-ahead, Severus moved into the kiss. Hermione allowed his access to the deepest recesses of her mouth. He, however, only explored lightly, wishing not to push his luck.

Hermione found her arms leading a trail to his neck; his hands gently cushioned her hips. She pulled him, nearly on top of her and leaned back, relishing the feel of his strong body over her. As they met the arm of the sofa, his hand slipped, rising halfway into her robes. His long fingers traced over this new strip of creamy skin, along her abdomen, sending goose bumps prickling up her sides, and sending warmth blazing into her cheeks. Suddenly, he withdrew his hand, then his body, and sat up.

“I believe that if we continue this much longer, we both might make an irreversible mistake,” Severus remarked, looking away.

“Then, may I ask you a few questions?”

“Of course.”

“Why now? Why not come back to me earlier? You might have saved us so much hassle.”

“I’ve been all over England, in every wizarding community I could find. I was not going to force myself upon you, and yet I craved so badly to see you again. I finally came across the coincidence I needed.” Hermione searched his eyes, for some sign of truth, but he refused to turn them her way.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand how, or why, or what you feel for me.”

“Hermione Granger. Incessant know-it-all. Top student. Blossoming woman. You left Hogwarts in a blaze of glory. How was I to say anything about my feelings for you? I treat those I care about quite differently than my other pupils, I must say. Potter, because of Lily. You, because of my feelings. Only one other has experienced it besides you two. She was a beautiful seventeen-year-old I taught when I was barely twenty-five.”
“What happened to her? Did her graduation tear her from you?”

“No. As it turned out, she loved me. And I loved her. She was my first love since Lily had died. This beautiful Gryffindor woman loved me. We snuck away, our relationship, though close in years, was forbidden because of my occupation. Finally, I proposed to her. She accepted.” Severus paused. Hermione allowed him a warm look before he continued. “On the eve of our wedding, she was killed. A death eater. She was the second to be taken from me by Dark forces. Then I mourned for so long, I hardly saw you through second and third year. You reminded me of her, and still do. Though so different in ages, I fell in love with you.”

“Severus,” Hermione whimpered, tears flowing freely from her eyes. “I cannot say ‘I love you, too’ at the moment, but know that my feelings for you have also stood the test of time.”

“You do not care about the age difference?”

“What is age to a witch and wizard? We may very well live to be nearly two hundred years old. When I am too crippled to walk, will I want someone close to my age, or someone I love?” Then she realized she had let it slip.