If You Would Only See

CHAPTER NINE: Broken

It was late; a storm was raging war outside. Lighting struck and thunder shook the house. Hermione hated storms, and at the moment she hated the blasted lock on her shed even more. She huddled beneath her umbrella as she walked along the pathway from her backdoor to the small shed where she stored odds and ends. The lock had broken and the latch had come undone, and she just couldn’t stand listening to the sound of the door banging in the wind one more second. So she made her way to the door, new lock in hand. She fastened the latch, and slid the lock into the hasp.

“Look what we have here.” A deep, gravelly voice said from behind her.

“Oi, looks like a pretty little witch come to play, mate.” Came another, higher, more cockney sounding voice. Hermione turned, moving backwards until she hit the shed door. She dropped the umbrella and reached for her wand.

“Lookin’ for this?” The cockney asked, waving her wand back and forth in front of her. He was tall, his teeth yellow and rotted. He was dirty, his face covered in a sparse, gingery beard, his head completely bald.

“You are trespassing on private property.” She spat, her eyes flashing. The other man, a short, portly fellow with yellow eyes and black hair was grinning at her.

“You think that stops us?” He asked, reaching out to wrap his fingers in her hair. “We was just walking by, lookin’ for a good place ter borrow a few things, and suddenly we sees this pretty little thing walkin’ around in the rain.” He stepped closer and she almost gagged at the stench. A combination of unwashed male, smoke and liquer.


“If you leave now, I won’t inform the authorites.” She said. She hadn’t mastered wandless magic aside from a few small incantations, nothing that was going to help her in this situation.

“Like we care….we won’t hurt ye lass, not if ye cooperate all nice like.” Cockney replied, moving closer and sniffing the side of her neck.

“Please, don’t.” She pleaded, struggling as they pinned her arms.

“That’s it, we likes em with a little fight in em…”

“Let her go.” The words were low, deep and enunciated. Hermione stopped struggling and looked over her assailants shoulders in shock. Severus was there, black slacks and white shirt, a black cloak thrown around his shoulders and billowing in the wind. His hair was wet and falling in sodden locks that clung to his forehead and face. He was positioned in a dueling stance, legs bent, arm up, wand pointed. He looked like a dark angel standing there with the wind and rain whipping around him, the lightning flashes highlighting his face.

“Severus.” She said on a surprised breath. Her attackers released her and turned to face him.

“Right, who do you think you are to tell us what to do?” The fat one sneered.

“I warn you, I am not a man to be trifled with. Now step away from the girl.” Severus saw the moment that fatty reached for his wand.

“Expelliarmus!” a ball of energy flew from the tip of Severus’s wand, knocking the fat man to the ground. Cockney reared back, intending to toss a spell Severus’s way. But stopped as Severus closed in. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and Cockney saw the black mark tattooed on his forearm

“Death Eater!” The man paled, his fear evident as he stared at the dark wizard.

“If you want to live, I suggest you run. I happen to be able to deliver a rather intense variation of the Cruciatus, and I find my wand hand itching slightly, it has been ever so long since I got to play torturer.” Severus said in a rather sinister tone.

The men scrambled, tripping over each other and slipping on the wet pavement as they rushed to get away. When they were out of sight, Severus slid his wand into his pocket and bent to retrieve Hermione’s from the ground. He stood up, and looked at her.
She was soaked through, her cotton shirt clinging to her breasts, her nipples hard and pressing into the wet fabric. Her hair was dripping, curling wildly over her shoulders. She was staring at him with such amazement in her eyes that he felt slightly self conscious.

“Your wand.” He said, holding it out to her. She didn’t take it, she stepped forward and clasped his wrist instead. She looked down, and let her touch slide over the skull and serpent that marred his arm.

“You still bear the mark.” She said softly.

“It reminds me of what I am.” He answered, her touch caused him to shake inside.

“And what is that?” She asked, lifting her hands to push his hair from his eyes, allowing her hands to stroke over the familiar features.

“Nothing, I am nothing.” He closed is eyes when she slid her hands around to the back of his neck.

“Not true, if you would only see how wrong you are.” She whispered, leaning up on her toes and pressing her lips to his. He didn’t respond at first, turning his head away slightly.

“Please, you can’t do this to me, we can’t do this.” He moaned, low in his throat when she nipped his jaw and let her tongue trace the scar that trailed down his neck.

“Yes we can, we will. It’s meant to happen, let me show you, heal you.” When she opened her lips over his, he didn’t refuse her this time. He let his lips part beneath hers, allowed her tongue entry, and followed when she retreated. Their lips slid, nipped and suckled at the others as the rain poured over them and the storm raged around them.

He slid his hands along her waist and around her to rest on the upper swell of her bottom. He thrilled and hardened immediately at the feel of her pressed against him. Her skin was burning despite the cold rain that poured over her. She tunneled her fingers into his hair, clutching his head and pressing him closer. She lifted one leg, hitching it over his hip as she tried to press into the arousal throbbing against her belly.

A loud crash of thunder boomed and lightning struck somewhere near by, startling them apart.

“Come inside with me.” She said, panting as she looked at him through hooded eyes.

“I can’t….”

“Yes you can, and you will. Don’t make me bind you Severus, we are going to talk one way or another.” She said, tightening her grip in his hair. He looked down at her, and he actually wanted to smile at the little witch.

“Hexing me with a binding spell will not be necessary, I will accompany you.” He slid his hands up her arms, and untangled her fingers from his hair. He allowed her to guide him inside her house, their hands still tightly clasped. Once inside she locked and warded her back door. She helped him remove his cloak, casting a quick drying spell on the woolen material before hanging it from a peg by the door. They waved their wands at the same time to dry themselves before heading into her kitchen.

“Tea?” She asked.

“Yes, please.” He looked around the homey little kitchen curiously as he took a seat at the table. The room was painted soft beige and it was decorated with hundreds of sunflowers. He noted that there was a bookcase filled with various cookbooks along the far was and smirked slightly. He would be willing to bet there were bookcases all over this house. He turned to watch her at the counter. She was busily preparing a plate of food as she waited for the kettle to boil. He watched her pull containers from her refrigerator and spoon their contents onto the plate before waving her wand and heating the food.

“Here, eat.” She ordered as she set the plate in front of him. She returned to the counter to make the tea as he ate the meal she prepared for him. Roast beef, potatoes, carrots and green beans, with a slice of homemade bread slathered in real butter. He ate heartily, it wasn’t often he was able to enjoy such well prepared fare. She set a cup of tea, along with a glass of milk in front of him and slid into the other chair. She didn’t say anything, just sipped her tea and watched him eat. When he was done, he laid his napkin on the table and sat back, sighing contentedly.

“Do you want more?” She asked as she took his plate.

“No, thank you.” He watched her set his dishes in the sink. “You are a wonderful cook.”

“One of my many hobbies.” She said with a smile. “Would you like some pumpkin pie? I got the recipe from an American cousin of mine, it’s really good.”

“No thank you.”

“Come on then, we’ll sit in the living room.” He stood and followed her through her house. It was so…..homey and comfortable. It smelled of vanilla and lavender, her scent. She led him into a large room with big windows. It had a large stone fireplace with a small fire burning, warming the room. A sofa and large chair and ottoman in a rich, brick red was settled around it. In the corner he could see a muggle entertainment center and a small bookcase filled with videos. It was cozy, warm and inviting, something he wasn’t really used to, as he spent most of his life living in the dungeons of Hogwarts.

Hermione sat on the end of the sofa, her legs curled underneath her. She patted the sofa cushion beside her, and he slowly, reluctantly took the seat next to her.

“So, I suppose you should just begin with what happened after we left you….” She prompted.

“Fawkes.” He said simply. “He came in through a window and pulled me out before the others could find me. I was unconscious, and when I woke, I was in a small cottage. My throat hurt, but was healing. The snake’s venom did some permanent nerve damage to my left leg, but other than that, I was healing well.”

“Why didn’t you find us, why didn’t you let us know?” She asked.

“I was…ashamed.” He was looking down at his hands where they rested in his lap.

“What on earth for? Severus, you were a hero, are a hero!”

“I was a coward. My own insecurities, my own darkness led me to befriend the dark lord, and it cost me my love, my friend.” He said, shaking his head. “I did what I had to, suffered so many years through the revels and the torture to help the order, but in the end, I killed a man who was essentially my father.”

“I saw the pensive Severus, I know you did what you had to in order to save Draco, I know Dumbledore asked you to do it.”

“It sealed my fate. I was swallowed whole by my own darkness.”

“Stop…..”

“I wish that Fawkes had never found me. Every day I curse that damned bird for stealing my peace.”

“How can you say that?”

“It’s better for me to be dead Hermione, better for all concerned.”

“You selfish ass! Do you realize how we mourned for you? How hysterical Harry was when he couldn’t find your body? He locked himself in a room for a week and grieved for you, he defended you before the dark lord, he told him that you were the one who orchestrated his downfall just before he killed him! He cried for you! I cried for you, hell even Ron who has the emotional capacity of a bloody flea, cried for you!” She stood and paced the room as he sat there staring at his hands. “And Draco….oh god, he mourned you, he needed you! You were the only person in his life to show him any sort of care…did you know that? That all his life he wished you had been his father instead of Lucius? He needed you! When he inherited your estate, he couldn’t bear to enter Snape Manor, no one has, it sits as it was the last time you were there!”

“I wouldn’t have been good for him Hermione! I’m no good to anyone! Can’t you see that? Don’t you understand? My soul is shit! It’s ruined, stained irreparably by the sins I committed!” He looked at her, his hand spread, palms up. “I’m…….broken.” He said softly, tears sliding over his cheeks.

“No.” She walked towards him, kneeling at his feet. “You may be broken Severus, but you can heal, I know it.” She laid her head against his knees.

“I have never seen anything quite like you.” He said softly, his hand resting on her head.


“Probably a good thing, can you imagine if you had had to teach classes full of insufferable know it alls like me?” She asked with a slight smile.


“Could have been worse, I used to have nightmares about teaching a class full of Longbottoms.” She looked up, her chin resting against him.

“Harry named one of his sons for you.” She said. Shock registered, followed by a sense of pride.

“I am honored.”


“Albus Severus is a good boy, but as horrible at potions as Harry was.” She said with a smile. Her smile unraveled him; to have her direct it at him was something he never dreamed would happen.


“You unhinge me, Hermione. I was doing just fine in my little world. I had accepted the solitude, and then you show up, delivering notes and books. Invading my dreams, and shook my world to its very foundation.” He said, laying his hand along her soft cheek.

“Invade your dreams….the night you saw me through the window….the dream…..it was real?” She said, her eyes widening and her cheeks flushing.


“Yes, I thought maybe at first you did it on purpose….”


“I thought it was just a dream.” She said it, embarrassed.


“Your words, the things you said about me, you can never know how much that meant to me.” He whispered, letting his thumb brush across her lips.


“And the rest? If I had known it was real, that we were sharing the dream, I wouldn’t have been so….” She was embarrassed.


“Absolutely perfect?” He sat forward, her face still cupped in his hands as he took her lips with his. He had never been romantic, never been one for tenderness, sex had always been about release, or about espionage. She made him want to be tender. He slid his lips over hers, gently brushing, softly forming his mouth around hers as he slid his tongue inside to taste her.

She returned his kiss, whimpering softly as she slid her hands up and over his chest to lock around his neck. She tugged him slightly as she leaned back, pulling him with her as she lay on the rug before the fire. He followed, keeping his weight off of her. He leaned up, arms extended to support his weight.

“Are you sure we should…” He stopped when she reached for the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it up and over her head, tossing it aside. Hesitantly, he trailed his fingers along her throat, over her collar bones. Feather light, almost tickling as they traversed the soft swells of her breasts, dipping slightly beneath the lacy edge of her cream colored bra.

“I have never felt anything so soft.” He whispered, watching as his fingers mapped her skin. He flicked the little clasp nestled between her breasts, releasing it and pushing the sides apart so he could see her. Her breasts were round, and soft, the nipples a light, caramel color. He leaned forward and ran the rough pad of his tongue over one soft peak, leaning back to watch as it pebbled and hardened before taking it between his lips and suckling softly, flicking the tiny bud with his tongue.

“Oh gods…..Severus…” She moaned, arching beneath him, encouraging him to suck harder, take more of her between his lips. Her fingers fisted in the fabric of his shirt, un-tucking it from his slacks before sliding around to attack the buttons. He continued to lave her breasts, suckling and nipping as she got him unbuttoned and began shoving the shirt off of his shoulders. He shifted slightly to allow her to pull it from his arms and toss it across the room.

He was still in good shape, regular physical exercise being required to keep him from growing stiff and painful. She could feel the scars that crossed his back and she instantly wanted to kill whoever had hurt him. He was lean, but muscular, with broad shoulders and a well defined chest. She liked the way the muscles tightened and rippled beneath her fingers as he stroked and caressed him. His chest was lightly dusted with dark, silky hair that trailed down his flat abdomen to arrow below his belt. She noted a tribal tattoo of Celtic knots around his right bicep, and another of a Celtic cross near his shoulder.

She had never been much of an ink lover, but she found these marks on his body incredibly sexy. He toyed with the button on her jeans, letting the backs of his fingers slide underneath and along the waist band, smirking slightly as her stomach clenched beneath his touch. He flipped the button undone and lowered the zipper. He shifted onto his knees so he could pull the jeans along with her lace panties off of her, tossing them across the room. He looked at her for a moment, staring at her soft, curvy body spread out on the floor before him. She looked so perfect, her lips parted and swollen from his kiss, her cheeks flushed, eyes glazed with desire as she looked at him beneath hooded lids. Her plump, ripe breasts begged for his touch, for his lips. Her softly curving belly, and the soft, fluffy curls between her thighs called to him.

“You are perfect.” He said.

“Hardly….”

“You are, in my eyes, the most perfect thing I have ever seen.” He stood, standing over her as he removed his shoes and socks. He kept eye contact with her as he unfastened his belt and slacks, letting them fall to the floor. She reached out and wrapped her hand around his ankle, sliding it up and over his calf.

“I’m yours.” She whispered. Pushed his black boxers off, then went to his knees and stretched out beside her. He kissed her again, enjoying the wet slide of lips and tongue as they came together. Her fingers stroked over his shoulders, her nails lightly scratching across his skin.

“I want to go slow with you….” He said against her lips as he shifted to lay between her thighs. “It’s been a long, long time for me….”

“Shh, don’t worry, I want you, all of you, whatever that means.” She felt him draw back slightly. He reached between them, grasping his erection in his hand and watching as he guided it into her. Hermione groaned, arching slightly as he slipped the head inside her. He pushed forward again, shocked and thankful that she was aroused, and soaking wet when he pushed into her.

“OH!” She cried softly when she felt a slight ripping sensation as he filled her. He stopped, his head lifting sharply, his black eyes flashing.

“You are still innocent.” He said roughly.

“Was, you now hold that gift.” She said, reaching for him to pull him close against her. He looked into her eyes for just a moment before he pulled out and thrust back inside her.

“Mine, you are mine.” He said before burying his head in the crook of her neck as he thrust into her over and over. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, her ankles locked over the clenching thrust of his backside. He was panting in her ear with every pull and push of his cock inside her. She was arching beneath him, trying to keep pace with the desperate cadence of his lovemaking. He was sweating, groaning against her skin and he continued to thrust into her body. She could feel the steady building of pressure in her lower belly, the tingling awareness in the little nub buried in her folds. With every thrust he rubbed against the pleasure point, bringing her closer the the release she sought.

“So tight…..so soft…..so good.” He moaned into her ear as his thrusts increased in tempo and force. He slid his hands down her back, cupped her bottom and lifted her into him as he slammed against her. It was more than she could take, she went over, her muscles tightening around him, her nails biting into his skin as she arched her neck and cried out his name.

“Severus!” He pushed into her again and again before sobbing her name as he came, buried deep inside her. She knew he was crying, could feel the soft shaking of his shoulders as he wept into her shoulder. She said nothing, just continued to stroke her hands over his back, turning her head so she could place soft kisses against his ear.

“I don’t deserve you.” He whispered, clutching her tight against him, still buried inside her heat.

“Shh, don’t say that.” She told him. He lifted his head and looked at her through tear filled eyes.

“Why? Why would you waste such a gift on me?” He asked.

“My heart told me you were worth the chance.” She said smiling softly before leaning up to kiss him.

“I don’t deserve your kindness, Hermione….”

“Shush now Severus. I gave myself to you, I am yours.”

“There is so much light inside you, its nearly blinding.” He said.

“Then let it chase away the darkness.”