Yuleride

Chapter 8 ~ Choice

Snape raised the torches so the study was well-lit. Instead of heading for the armchairs, Hermione slowly sank down on the worn Slytherin green sofa, holding her face in her hands for a moment as the wizard walked up, looking down his nose at her.

”Running for your life, Hermione?” he said, “So am I to take it you decided to lead your potential killer here, not wanting to die alone? Or was that just another delightful bit of overblown Gryffindor dramatics? Those from your house to have a tendency to over exaggerate the seriousness of matters.”

Hermione lifted her head and scowled up at him.

”All right. I might have over exaggerated a little. No one is out to kill me . . . not quickly at any rate,” she said to him before she realized how the wizard was dressed.

Snape was wearing a long gray nightshirt made of linen that just covered his knees. His pale, thin legs were sparsely speckled with black hair and his feet encased in black bedroom slippers.

“Ah, a slow death then? Well, couldn’t you be tortured in your own rooms? Why are you in mine?” he asked the witch, his dark eyes narrowed.

”Because . . . because he’ll look for me there,” Hermione replied softly, “and I don’t want to see him.”

”Who?” Snape snapped. “Stop talking in riddles and spurts and tell me what is going on before I eject you. It’s after one in the morning.”

“It’s Ron. I’m hiding from Ron. He’d never expect me to be in your rooms,” she said to Snape, who arched an eyebrow in interest.

”Hiding from Mr. Weasley on Christmas morning. Interesting. Tell me, what did your beau do to send you fleeing into the night without a cloak?” Snape asked her, taking in her sweater, jeans and trainers.

Hermione sighed.

”He . . . he proposed,” Hermione replied.

Snape’s lip quirked.

”So when are the happy nuptials?” he said with a small sneer.

”I . . . I didn’t accept,” Hermione responded.

”Ah, you told him ‘no’ then,” Snape pressed, knowing that probably wasn’t the case given the way she had arrived at Hogwarts.

”Not exactly. I didn’t give him an answer at all. I just . . . just left,” she replied.

Snape chuckled nastily.

”Thus ruining the perfect romantic gesture, a proposal on Christmas Day,” he purred. “No doubt the entire family was present when he popped the question.”

Hermione nodded, sighing again.

“Yes, they were. And I felt as if I were trapped. I couldn’t breathe. It was like they were all pressing in on me and I couldn’t move. It was awful. I felt I would die if I didn’t get out of there. It was . . . reactionary,” she said.

“Reactionary. Yes. Like fleeing when a Killing curse whizzes by your ear,” Snape said, sitting down on the far end of the couch, looking at the witch thoughtfully. “Your sense of self-preservation kicked in. I imagine Mr. Weasley is beside himself with worry as to what’s happened to you. Maybe . . . you’d better return.”

Snape’s eyes glinted as he made this suggestion.

”NO!” Hermione hissed, surprising herself with her own vehemence.

That vehemence was precisely what Snape wanted to hear. It seemed Hermione felt the wall against her back now. She had escaped the self-made cul-de-sac she’d made of her life, barely managing to squeeze past the bottleneck before she was sealed in completely. Ron’s proposal seemed to adequately wake her up. This was an excellent development. Not to mention her being in his rooms in the middle of the night. Perhaps if he played his potions right . . .

“Severus, could I please have a drink?” she asked him suddenly.

Snape snapped out of his little reverie and blinked at Hermione.

”Going to drown your sorrows in alcohol, Hermione?” he responded as he rose, not waiting for an answer and walked to his liquor cabinet, pouring her a stiff Firewhiskey.

“No. I just want to steady my nerves,” she said as she watched him. The back of the wizard’s legs were rather tight and sinewy, despite his thinness. Still, he should at least have the decency to put on a robe in front of her.

Snape returned with the Firewhiskey and passed it to her, watching as she downed half of it in one gulp, making a face and rasping a little.

He sat down on the end of the sofa again and waited a bit before he asked her what her plans for the night was.

“Um . . . well, I was hoping you’d let me stay here. If I go to my rooms or my parents’ house, or even to the Three Broomsticks, I’m sure Ron will track me down,” Hermione said.

Snape arched an eyebrow at her, his face full of displeasure.

”Stay here? For the night? You’ve already infringed quite enough for someone who I owe absolutely nothing,” he said to her coldly.

Hermione frowned at him.

“You know, for someone who wants me to travel around the world with him, you don’t make much of an effort to make me happy,” she snapped at him.

“I see you too are guilty of the misguided belief that someone else can make you happy. Only you can make yourself happy. I’m not here for that. Yes, I do want you to come with me, Hermione. And if you do, your happiness will be assured,” he replied. “But that is completely up to you. I’m not going to pet and coddle you . . .”

Here the wizard hesitated, then his lip curled slightly.

“ . . . at least not because of any hope of you taking advantage of my offer,” he purred at her. “If I do that, it will be for other reasons.”

Hermione looked at him, then suddenly downed the rest of her Firewhiskey, coughing a bit this time.

“I . . . I don’t need you to pet and coddle me,” she rasped at him, the memory of his kisses and her reaction to them coming back in screaming clarity.

A slow flush crept up from the neck of Hermione’s wool sweater and suffused her face as she said this.

Snape studied her.

”Reactionary,” he purred softly.

”What? What are you talking about?” Hermione demanded, feeling the warmth of the Firewhiskey flowing through her, giving her a bit of a boost.

“I’m talking about your coloring at my statement. Tell me, Hermione, why have you turned as red as a salamander?” he asked her. “It is obviously a reaction. But to what? The idea of me petting and coddling you? Although, ‘coddling’ wouldn’t quite cover what it is I would do to you.”

“I didn’t come here for this,” Hermione snapped at him.

”Then why the hell did you come here?” Snape snarled at her, his eyes flashing. “For me to offer you solace? To be your . . . champion and protect you from the world you’ve created around yourself? You could have gone any place other than here, witch. You’ve disappeared before without darkening my dungeons. As I said before, you are a coward and now you want me to assist you in your cowardice. To ‘hide you out.’ Eventually, you are going to have to face the fact that you don’t want the life that is trying to suffocate you. You have to stop ‘reacting’ and do something proactive to save yourself! Others can’t do for you what needs to be done. I certainly can’t, but I can show you another way . . . a better way. You only have to accept it.”

Hermione was about to respond when a loud bell clanged. Snape’s eyes narrowed and he walked over to his desk, opened a drawer and took out a small mirror. He looked into it and arched an eyebrow, then walked back over to Hermione and handed her the mirror. She looked into it and paled.

”Your beau is here,” the wizard purred.

Sure enough, Ron had entered the castle and was heading for her rooms. He had his hands cupped around his mouth, shouting something. Hermione couldn’t hear him but she was sure it was her name.

“Since I am the only staff member on the premises, I have to protect the castle from unauthorized visitors,” Snape said. “That mirror lets me know if non-staff members enter the premises. My job . . . is to find out why they are here and remove them if necessary. In this case, I already know why Mr. Weasley is here . . .”

Hermione looked up at Snape. Her eyes really were full of fear. She clearly didn’t want to face Ron. She looked into the mirror again and Ron was standing outside of her rooms, pounding on the door with his fist and attempting to crack the ward with his wand.

“No doubt he will stand out there all night, thinking you aren’t answering,” Snape said to her. “I can’t allow that. Either you go to him . . . or I will.”

Hermione looked up at the Professor.

”Severus, please. I don’t want to see him . . . I can’t. I can’t face him right now. I can’t tell him I don’t want to marry him,” she said to the wizard, hoping he would find some sense of empathy inside his cold heart.

Snape sneered down at her, shaking his head.

”So you want me to go out there and lie for you?” he asked her.

Hermione hung her head.

”Yes,” she breathed, “Please.”

Snape stood there for several minutes, then strode into his rooms. After a minute or two he returned, dressed in his robes and boots.

“Oh thank you, Severus,” Hermione breathed up at him.

”Don’t . . . thank me yet, witch. I am a Slytherin and I don’t do ‘favors.’ There has to be something reciprocal in it for me, something worth me lying for you . . . something of personal benefit. By making Mr. Weasley leave the premises, I am giving you a reprieve of sorts. What will you give me?” he asked her, his sallow face curtained by his greasy hair.

“What do you want?” Hermione asked him, her voice barely above a whisper.

”Either an answer to my offer . . . or you. One or the other,” the wizard replied silkily.

Hermione stared up at him, her face contorting.

”Me? Have you no sense of decency?” she hissed at him.

Snape looked amused.

“Decency? It is you who wants me to go out into a cold drafty castle and lie to a man who obviously loves you. Who wants you to be his wife. What you are proposing is just as indecent as my request. Now, what will it be?” he asked her.

Hermione’s shoulders slumped.

”I don’t know,” she said softly.

”That’s no answer!” Snape snarled at her.

”I don’t know. I need time to think!” Hermione said to him.

”There is no time! If you want me to rid you of your fiancée, then tell me what your decision is!” Snape demanded.

What he was doing to Hermione wasn’t nice, but then again, neither was he and the witch knew it. So it worked out, at least as far as Snape was concerned. He’d get something he wanted out of this.

At last it would feel like Christmas.

”I’ll tell you when you get back,” Hermione said softly.

Suddenly magic swirled around them, Hermione looking absolutely horrified as she accidentally invoked a Wizarding Oath.

“Oh shit,” she gasped as Snape gave her a perfectly sinister smile.

”You should know of all people, Hermione, that promises made under the influence of great emotions can invoke an oath,” he purred at her. “I am satisfied and will return shortly to hear your answer. I am sure I will be pleased with whatever you have to tell me.”

Snape then turned and exited the study, leaving Hermione on the couch, stunned.

”Oh gods,” she breathed, “I’ve made a deal with the devil himself.”

Snape was thinking the same thing as he strode up the dungeon corridor.

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Hermione watched through the mirror as Ron suddenly stopped trying to break the ward and looked at something. She saw Snape billow up and address Ron. Ron began to gesticulate and point at Hermione’s door. Snape listened then backed up and cast a spell on the door. It opened.

Hermione scowled. Snape could enter her rooms that easily? It was . . . disturbing. But maybe he had castle-wide authorization for the holidays since everyone, including Filch were gone. Hermione watched as Ron walked inside. Snape remained in the corridor but Hermione could see Ron moving through her rooms, calling for her before he started opening closets and looking under her bed.

He knew she was purposely hiding from him. It was awful.

After about five minutes, a disheartened looking Ron exited her rooms, shaking his head. Snape pulled the door closed and warded it back, then he and Ron walked to the Main Hall, Ron’s shoulders slumping. Snape watched as he exited the castle, then the mirror changed back to a regular reflection. It focused only on the intruder inside the castle.

Snape was on his way back and Hermione hadn’t decided what she would tell him. She was bound to her oath and had to give him an answer. She wasn’t ready to tell him she would travel around the world with him. She needed more time to make such a life-changing decision.

Unfortunately, time was one thing she didn’t have.

Snape expected an answer tonight.

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A/N: BAD Snapey! Ooh, he’s so manipulative. Poor Hermione but lucky us. Lol. Thanks for reading and I hope everyone had a nice Christmas.