Remember When It Rained

Remember When It Rained
Chapter Eight
Tears of Hope Run Down My Skin


Neither one of them said anything about the kiss that they shared, and the days faded one into the other. Each had returned to the formality of proper names, the atmosphere between them now changed irrevocably. Neither felt it was proper any more, and Hermione spent as little time as possible in the lab with her Master. There were no more chats or debates, and they both missed the easiness of the days before that morning at the lake.

Suddenly it was the start of a new term, and the beginning of the trio’s seventh year. Hermione had decided to accompany Hagrid to the depot to await the arrival of The Hogwarts Express.

The mood was heavy at Hogsmeade Station, even the Express seemed to move slower, as if in anticipation of the battle that all thought was sure to come, sooner rather than later. The students didn’t mill around on the platform as they usually did, and the first years clustered around Hagrid instead of cowering at his size.

She had come to greet her friends, to make peace with Harry. She had never heard from him after all and the thought that he might hate her had recently become a painful ache in her heart. Lately her dreams had taken on a frightening realness, her friends dying around her, the blood and the screams, all too vivid. She woke drenched in sweat, her body trembling after each. She knew that this coming year would be the deciding year, the climax of the last six, and the final battle of darkness against light. She couldn’t let the year begin with Harry hating her. He would need all of the support he could get this year, so she decided to swallow her pride and be the first to offer the needed apology.

Suddenly, she didn’t want to be at the platform anymore, as sadness engulfed her. She didn’t want this year to begin, she wanted things to stay as they had been during the summer break. The tenseness of the atmosphere added to her discomfort, she would find Harry later, she thought as she turned to make her way back to the school.

She was lost in her thoughts as she made her way up the steep path, purposely taking the long way back so that she wouldn’t run into anyone before the Sorting Feast, enjoying the cool night air. Her wand was at the ready, the path before her li the the soft glow that the Lumos charm cast from it’s tip.

“Miss Granger,” his soft spoken greeting startled her out of her reverie. She glanced up, startled by the suddenness of his appearance. “You really should pay more attention to your surroundings.”

She frowned at the scolding tone of his voice. “You should stop sneaking up on people, Professor Snape. You’ll end up getting hexed one of these days,” she muttered.

“Or run over?” he asked softly.

“Or that,” she answered with a small smile. “I’m enjoying the night air, what are you doing prowling about?”

“Looking for you actually,” he answered.

“Oh?”

“I noticed you leave for the platform, but you didn’t return with the carriages,” he answered.

She sighed and looked down at her feet. At that moment the moon appeared from behind a cloud, it’s faint light turning everything silver. Severus noticed a tear drop, glistening in the moonlight, snake it’s way down her cheek. He reached out and brushed it away. She gasped as another tear trembled on her lashes and then fell.

“Why do you cry, Hermione?” he asked before he could stop himself.

The sound of her name on his lips triggered the sobs she had been trying to hold in since she left the platform. Her name, he had said her name again. Not once had she heard him utter it since that morning by the lake. He moved closer to her and stopped, his hands ba int into fists at his side, not knowing how to handle the sobbing lady before him. Suddenly she flung herself against him, wrapping her arms around him, her face pressed to his chest as she sobbed and trembled. He closed his eyes against the waves of sadness that seemed to roll from her and he found himself cradling her head against his chest with one hand as the other found a place at the small of her back.

“Shhh,’ he whispered softly as the clouds swallowed the moon again. “It will be alright ma petite. It will be alright.”

They stood there, with the Moon playing hide and seek with the clouds, until her sobs subsided into sniffles as he stroked the back of her neck with his fingers. A shiver ran through her, and she pressed herself closer to him with a whispered,

“Severus.”

Cradling her face in his hands he tilted it up so that he could look at her, the moon popping out again illuminating her tear stained cheeks. His eyes blazing with emotion, he wiped the tears from her with the pads of his thumbs as he lowered his mouth to hers.

Her heart slammed a quick statico in her chest as his tongue caressed her lips, her mouth opening beneath his to let him in. Molten fire raced through her veins, weakening her at the knees and she pulled him tighter to her lest she fall. His hands snaked their way around her waist, gripping and pulling her against the sudden hardness of his arousal. Their tongues swirling and tasting, their lips battling with the kind of ferocity that only desire can invoke. She rubbed herself against him, instinctually and the universe imploded behind his eye lids.

He bent her backwards, lowering her to the gr ben beneath them, his hands now roaming over her seeking the hem of her robes. The sudden hoot of an owl echoing through the night startled them apart. Breathlessly, they gazed at each other for a moment, then he closed his eyes and held back a sigh.

“We cannot,” he whispered, regret ringing in his voice. “This is wrong, Hermione.”

“N-no!” she stuttered, her body on fire, aching with need. “Please! Sev-“

“No!” he exclaimed as he pushed himself off of her and to his feet. He offered her his hand, and pulled her to her feet. He looked at her trembling now from desire, her lips swollen from his kisses, her eyes heavy with lust. She took a step toward him. He flung a hand up in front of him, stopping her.

“This must never happen again,” he said in a flat voi “Ne “Never.”

“Don’t say that!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “Don’t lie to me! You want this as much as I do, and you know it!”

He turned on his heel and strode away, his cloak billowing behind him like a bat’s wings. She followed, nar bar behind, rng tng to keep up with his long strides wiping tears from her face as she gulped in air. Once she tripped on a root, crying out in pain as her knee hit the ground hard. His steps faltered, as he turned to look behind him. She was sitting on the path, her face buried in her hands as she sobbed. He made to move toward her, but stopped. Seeing that she was uninjurhe the turned away from her and continued his trek toward the castle.


She sat there and cried for a time, ignoring the bells that signaled the feast, not wanting to face anyone. Her only thoughts were of him, of their kiss, of the feel of him against her. She had seen something in his eyes, something other than the usual coldness. She felt it in the way he kissed her, the way his hands roamed her body.

“Liar,” she muttered. Picking herself up, she brushed the dirt from her robes and from her hair as she made her way to the front steps. At the foot of them, she gazed up at the oak doors, flung wide open, light shining from within.

‘You felt it too,’ she thought as she took that first step up. ‘You felt it too and you will not be able to run from it for long.’

She took a deep breath and wiped her face with a trembling hand. She took the second step, then the third then the fourth, her countenance resolved. She was Head Girl and she had a Sorting Feast to attend.