A Victorious Draw
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
11
Views:
8,844
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
11
Views:
8,844
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I neither own the Harry Potter characters nor the original stories. I make no money from this story.
6
A/N: As always, a huge hug and thank you to Wildcatcdc and Sc010f for their fantastic work!
Hermione indulged in a bit of self-mortification and threw her blankets over her head. She’d masturbated had gotten off to a fantasy regarding Professor Snape. Severus! She would never be able to address him as “Professor” again. She wasn’t quite sure she could even look him in the face without blushing.
What was she going to do? How could she face him? She’d had a small crush on him during her last year of school and when they’d learned he was a spy for the Order; and later, when his past had come to light, what sacrifices he’d made, both personally and professionally, she was humbled and inspired by his single-mindedness and cleverness.
Contrary to what the countless newspapers had speculated, she hadn’t been the one to save his life. The Healers and Curse-breakers had healed and brought Severus Snape back to life and back to health. All she had done was sent her Patronus with the message “Follow me to the body of Severus Snape.” He had been dead, or as close to death as possible, only to be brought back by the most powerful witches and wizards in the world. Specialists from all over the world had Apparated to St. Mungo’s to care for and watch over and observe the progress of Severus. She had not saved his life, and he did not owe her a life debt, of that she’d made certain, even before he had regained consciousness. He would be beholden to no one, certainly not to her, if she had any say in the matter.
To that end, she consulted with Professor Dumbledore’s portrait, the most expedient source of information for her specific need. The portrait had told her that, in order for there to be a life debt, several factors must be taken into account, including the intent of the parties participating in the event. Since her Patronus had not been sent to gain aid or to save Professor Snape’s life but rather to merely inform a third party of his whereabouts, her actions alone would not have invoked a life bond, regardless of whether her actions resulted in his life being saved or not.
Another requirement for the invocation of a life bond was the person, in this instance Professor Snape, must accept, either consciously or subconsciously, the reasoning for the action that invoked the bond was life saving. This had proven to be a blessing and a curse; Hermione had made certain Severus was told the truth, a message had been sent, but he was given no information as to why. As a result, Severus Snape, recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class, believed it had been with callousness and disregard for his person but with a begrudging respect for his role in the war that prompted the use of the Patronus for retrieval of his body. He never would know Hermione’s respect and regard for him, therefore he could allow his anger and resentment to override any softer emotion. That is how is should be, how it must be, Hermione often thought. It’s what he deserves.
Hermione never allowed herself to dwell on the sight of him lying in his own blood, the swollen, black puncture holes a grizzly reminder of his service to both causes. She'd believed him to be dead, knew he was dead, and she had felt helpless and heartbroken for the millionth time that awful day. She had been numb by the time she’d sent her Patronus, unable to feel more in that moment, and it was that lack of feeling, that inability to acknowledge any tender feelings that disavowed any life bond from forming.
And now, seven years later, Hermione was thinking perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad, having Severus beholden to her, and wondering if perhaps he could repay the debt with sex.
With a disgusted shake of her head, Hermione finally roused herself from her bed and stepped into the bathroom to take a shower. Stepping under the hot water, she closed her eyes and once again saw herself in his classroom, in his study, over his lap and in his arms. And now she imagined herself under his body, moving in rhythm with him. His body long and lean, his hands whipping her into a frenzy and his mouth covering hers. And later, holding her in his arms like he had not so long ago in her office, when those initial, overwhelming waves of terror threatened to overcome her.
Showered and dressed, Hermione went about her Saturday routine; laundry charms, cleaning spells and dictating a shopping list to call in for delivery. She was no less conflicted about the men in her life, but dwelling on the problem without having time to sit and work on a solution was pointless. That evening, when she had time for thorough, thoughtful introspection, she would sit with a glass of elf wine and puzzle it all out. In the meantime, she thought, best fold the laundry.
Severus was having no easier time. After leaving Hermione’s office, his need for escape was great, so he returned to the one place that had always given him solace when the world closed in, the one place where he could get lost. He’d gone home, home being a nice, unassuming flat, and changed into comfortable, well-worn jeans, a cotton shirt and jacket, and headed to Hyde Park.
He walked for hours, first along Rotten Row then the Serpentine and finally the Foot Path, trying to clear his head and analyze his reaction to Ms. Granger. Hermione, now, he corrected himself. What had started out as a simple favor and a vague feeling of obligation for his former students and fellow Order members has taken a turn, and Severus was not quite sure what he was going to do about it, if he should even do anything.
He’d been wandering most of his life, it seemed. Constantly looking for a home, a place he belonged. He’d found a home, of sorts, in the long-ago playground of his youth. His little shelter he’d made, had hid in, while he spied on the world around him, content to watch and listen and learn that there was more to the world than what he’d suffered at home. Parents and children playing together, nannies taking care of their charges, older brothers and sisters looking after their younger siblings. And it made him realize what he was missing in his life and what he wanted in is life.
He’d found a place for himself with Lily and with Hogwarts, until the day came when Potter disrupted his meagerly laid plans. Even before Lily had walked away from him, he’d been slowly losing her. She’d been slipping further and further away from him, becoming more and more immersed in the house rivalries, excluding him from things when they’d once been partners and friends.
His Slytherin housemates had made him feel accepted and worthwhile. The unity in the House of Slytherin was unparalleled, and it was there, for a time, where he felt he belonged. Joining Voldemort and the Death Eaters had reinforced those feeling of acceptance and brotherhood, and it wasn’t until the murders began that he felt he was beginning to drown under the weight of bad decisions. The final straw had been the death of Lily, and it was then Severus realized, with a biting and stinging reality, that the choices he’d made had had far-reaching consequences.
He’d spent the next twenty years living with the consequences, drowning in them until he found the resolve and strength to walk past his mistakes. He’d done it, and it had been harder than playing the double agent in the Second Wizarding War. He’d had to learn where he belonged in the post-Voldemort world, a world he never thought he’d see. He’d done it by figuring out what it was he wanted and what he didn’t, and then going after it.
Did he want Hermione? Was he ready to grasp the final piece of the puzzle, the one which had been missing?
He didn’t know. He thought, perhaps, he’d like to find out.
Hermione indulged in a bit of self-mortification and threw her blankets over her head. She’d masturbated had gotten off to a fantasy regarding Professor Snape. Severus! She would never be able to address him as “Professor” again. She wasn’t quite sure she could even look him in the face without blushing.
What was she going to do? How could she face him? She’d had a small crush on him during her last year of school and when they’d learned he was a spy for the Order; and later, when his past had come to light, what sacrifices he’d made, both personally and professionally, she was humbled and inspired by his single-mindedness and cleverness.
Contrary to what the countless newspapers had speculated, she hadn’t been the one to save his life. The Healers and Curse-breakers had healed and brought Severus Snape back to life and back to health. All she had done was sent her Patronus with the message “Follow me to the body of Severus Snape.” He had been dead, or as close to death as possible, only to be brought back by the most powerful witches and wizards in the world. Specialists from all over the world had Apparated to St. Mungo’s to care for and watch over and observe the progress of Severus. She had not saved his life, and he did not owe her a life debt, of that she’d made certain, even before he had regained consciousness. He would be beholden to no one, certainly not to her, if she had any say in the matter.
To that end, she consulted with Professor Dumbledore’s portrait, the most expedient source of information for her specific need. The portrait had told her that, in order for there to be a life debt, several factors must be taken into account, including the intent of the parties participating in the event. Since her Patronus had not been sent to gain aid or to save Professor Snape’s life but rather to merely inform a third party of his whereabouts, her actions alone would not have invoked a life bond, regardless of whether her actions resulted in his life being saved or not.
Another requirement for the invocation of a life bond was the person, in this instance Professor Snape, must accept, either consciously or subconsciously, the reasoning for the action that invoked the bond was life saving. This had proven to be a blessing and a curse; Hermione had made certain Severus was told the truth, a message had been sent, but he was given no information as to why. As a result, Severus Snape, recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class, believed it had been with callousness and disregard for his person but with a begrudging respect for his role in the war that prompted the use of the Patronus for retrieval of his body. He never would know Hermione’s respect and regard for him, therefore he could allow his anger and resentment to override any softer emotion. That is how is should be, how it must be, Hermione often thought. It’s what he deserves.
Hermione never allowed herself to dwell on the sight of him lying in his own blood, the swollen, black puncture holes a grizzly reminder of his service to both causes. She'd believed him to be dead, knew he was dead, and she had felt helpless and heartbroken for the millionth time that awful day. She had been numb by the time she’d sent her Patronus, unable to feel more in that moment, and it was that lack of feeling, that inability to acknowledge any tender feelings that disavowed any life bond from forming.
And now, seven years later, Hermione was thinking perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad, having Severus beholden to her, and wondering if perhaps he could repay the debt with sex.
With a disgusted shake of her head, Hermione finally roused herself from her bed and stepped into the bathroom to take a shower. Stepping under the hot water, she closed her eyes and once again saw herself in his classroom, in his study, over his lap and in his arms. And now she imagined herself under his body, moving in rhythm with him. His body long and lean, his hands whipping her into a frenzy and his mouth covering hers. And later, holding her in his arms like he had not so long ago in her office, when those initial, overwhelming waves of terror threatened to overcome her.
Showered and dressed, Hermione went about her Saturday routine; laundry charms, cleaning spells and dictating a shopping list to call in for delivery. She was no less conflicted about the men in her life, but dwelling on the problem without having time to sit and work on a solution was pointless. That evening, when she had time for thorough, thoughtful introspection, she would sit with a glass of elf wine and puzzle it all out. In the meantime, she thought, best fold the laundry.
Severus was having no easier time. After leaving Hermione’s office, his need for escape was great, so he returned to the one place that had always given him solace when the world closed in, the one place where he could get lost. He’d gone home, home being a nice, unassuming flat, and changed into comfortable, well-worn jeans, a cotton shirt and jacket, and headed to Hyde Park.
He walked for hours, first along Rotten Row then the Serpentine and finally the Foot Path, trying to clear his head and analyze his reaction to Ms. Granger. Hermione, now, he corrected himself. What had started out as a simple favor and a vague feeling of obligation for his former students and fellow Order members has taken a turn, and Severus was not quite sure what he was going to do about it, if he should even do anything.
He’d been wandering most of his life, it seemed. Constantly looking for a home, a place he belonged. He’d found a home, of sorts, in the long-ago playground of his youth. His little shelter he’d made, had hid in, while he spied on the world around him, content to watch and listen and learn that there was more to the world than what he’d suffered at home. Parents and children playing together, nannies taking care of their charges, older brothers and sisters looking after their younger siblings. And it made him realize what he was missing in his life and what he wanted in is life.
He’d found a place for himself with Lily and with Hogwarts, until the day came when Potter disrupted his meagerly laid plans. Even before Lily had walked away from him, he’d been slowly losing her. She’d been slipping further and further away from him, becoming more and more immersed in the house rivalries, excluding him from things when they’d once been partners and friends.
His Slytherin housemates had made him feel accepted and worthwhile. The unity in the House of Slytherin was unparalleled, and it was there, for a time, where he felt he belonged. Joining Voldemort and the Death Eaters had reinforced those feeling of acceptance and brotherhood, and it wasn’t until the murders began that he felt he was beginning to drown under the weight of bad decisions. The final straw had been the death of Lily, and it was then Severus realized, with a biting and stinging reality, that the choices he’d made had had far-reaching consequences.
He’d spent the next twenty years living with the consequences, drowning in them until he found the resolve and strength to walk past his mistakes. He’d done it, and it had been harder than playing the double agent in the Second Wizarding War. He’d had to learn where he belonged in the post-Voldemort world, a world he never thought he’d see. He’d done it by figuring out what it was he wanted and what he didn’t, and then going after it.
Did he want Hermione? Was he ready to grasp the final piece of the puzzle, the one which had been missing?
He didn’t know. He thought, perhaps, he’d like to find out.