Chapter Text
Chapter 4: Confessions and Caresses
Hermione stepped out into her sitting room head held high, a mask of indifference firmly on her face. If Snape was any kind of gentleman (which she wasn't certain he was) he would not mention the scars or her hasty retreat. Snape was on her couch sitting back with one arm resting across the back and one leg up, ankle propped on his other knee. He seemed to be perfectly at ease.
Cautiously Hermione came around the end of the couch, her courage faltering while she debated where to sit. Sitting in the armchair away from him seemed like a coward's move but she didn't know if she had the courage to sit back beside him. Finally settling on a middle ground she sat on the couch but on the edge of the cushion as far from him as he could get. She kept one hand protectively on her left arm, keeping the sleeve in place.
Snape had turned his head towards her when she had come around the couch and now looked at her with a brow raised in amusement. He looked pointedly at the space separating them and smirked at her before picking up a wine class from the end table beside him and passing it to her. She took it from him, steeling her spine against the tingle that flowed up her fingers from where they had brushed against his. Snape sat back again the smirk still in place and a knowing look in his eyes as he sat back and continued to regard her.
Hermione felt herself blushing once again at his continued perusal. Nerves overriding her courage once again she looked away from him, sipping her wine as her hand came up to make sure the collar of her shirt was still in place over her scars. The fruity crispness of the wine distracted her and she hummed her approval.
"I hope you didn't feel the need to change on my account. I promise I had no objections to your earlier outfit." Hermione's eyes snapped up to Snapes. She carefully looked for any hint of pity or sarcasm and was surprised to find none. There was no way that he had missed the scars her earlier outfit had put so clearly on display. A thought tickled the back of her mind as she looked at him with confusion. She continued to stare as she coaxed the thought forward. 'Maybe he doesn't mind the scars. Maybe he will still be able to see me through them?'
Hope bloomed in her chest at the thought until she quickly pushed it away and looked away from his dark assessing eyes. She took another sip of her wine as the silence stretched. Hermione could feel his eyes wander over her form, a shiver of awareness and heat tingled over her skin everywhere his gaze lingered. Hermione felt the awareness build and the heat slowly build low in her belly. She suddenly felt too warm and her throat was suddenly drier than the Sahara Desert. She took another longer sip of the wine, feeling her muscles starting to relax with liquid courage.
Finally unable to stand the silence she suddenly blurted, "Why are you here, Professor?"
"I thought I had already made myself clear when you let me in. I am here to continue of conversation from dinner. I believe we were talking about getting to know each other better." Hermione found herself searching his face again for any sign that he was messing with her. All she found was a amusement tempered by sincerity with a hint of what looked to her untrained eye as a healthy dose of lust. Hermione frowned, still unable to believe that Snape could still desire her after seeing what he did.
"But, why?" Hermione let her confusion and disbelief color her words.
"Miss Granger, against popular belief, I am not actually the bastard everyone thinks I am. There is much more to me than what I have ever let the students to believe. There were reasons that I acted the way I did, and if you thought about it a moment I am sure you would realize a few of them. You are, as they say, 'the brightest witch of your generation'. Now that the war is over, for good this time, I am finally able to drop the mask. I have only been allowed to give my friends and co workers glimpses of my true self over the years. Now I can be that man all the time. I must say I have found it quite liberating." Snape paused for a moment to refill their wine glasses. Hermione had not noticed how empty hers had become and found herself relaxing back slightly into the cushion as Snape continued.
"Now that I am free to be myself and drop the prejudices that I have been forced to keep I have been able to renew my friendships with people like Minerva and Flitwick. I also am free to pursue other friendships with people of my choosing. People with the intelligence who can hold a conversation for longer than three seconds about things other than sports or fashion. People who are not cowed by my presence or fear my past but who are interested in the man I am." Hermione found herself looking at her ex-professor in awe.
He had just named all the things she herself was looking for now that she was part of the adult world. Friends and relationships built around shared interests and trust. She was still friends with Harry and Ron, but their friendship was that of childhood friends. They had been through hell and back together and they would always hold a place in her heart, but they were not the kind of friends you invited over for wine and intellectual discussions. They were more they type of friends you met up with at the bar on Saturday night to let loose and unwind. With the way Snape had been talking she hoped that she was on the list of people who he wanted to become friends with. 'Oh please. Quit lying to yourself. You know you want more than friendship from the man. I mean look at him. Sex on legs and a voice of sin with an intelligence to challenge your own?' Before Hermione's thoughts could run to much farther, Snape continued.
"Now that you understand why I may be acting slightly different than what you were expecting." He smirked at her and she couldn't stop the eye roll at his obvious sarcasm. "I have known for quite some time that you would be an interesting conversationalist. You are both intelligent and bright. When Minerva told me what that you had accepted her offer to teach, I admit I was looking forward to seeing you again. While Minerva and Flitwick can hold their own in a debate, they are not the avid readers I know you to be. I had hoped at some point you would be agreeable to a friendship of sorts. Then dinner happened." At this point Snape seemed unable to continue to meet her gaze and turned to stare into the fire crackling in the hearth.
Hermione raised her brow and snuggled deeper into the cushions. At some point she had inched closer and brought her feet up to curl under her. If she leaned her head to the side she would be able to rest it on his forearm which was still resting across the back of the couch. Questions and doubts slowly swirled through her wine laden brain but she kept them to herself, willing him to continue.
"I admit that when you walked into the staff room in that shirt I realized that 'friendship' may not have been what I was really looking for when it came to you. In my head you were still a student, the intelligent little know it all, who would be able to hold her own in a conversation at least. You walked into the room tonight and I realized that you are definitely no longer a student but a young woman. I also knew that you were not the one for me. You are a brilliant young witch with her whole life ahead of her. For all my changes I am still a bitter old man. That you would ever want more than friendship would be laughable I thought. But I could help myself. I believe the saying is 'You can't blame a man for trying.' So I tried. I flirted and imagine my amazement when instead of hexing me or laughing in my face, you flirted back." This last bit was said almost as if it was a question.
Snape had yet to look at her again and Hermione felt the loss of his gaze acutely. She set her wine glass down beside the couch and cautiously crept closer to his side. Gently she raised her hand to his cheek, forcing him to turn and look at her. When his eyes met hers she gasped. The look in his eyes was all too familiar for it was the same look that started out at her when she looked in a mirror. Self doubt, indecision, and longing shone from the depths of his dark orbs. She didn't understand the self doubt that this gorgeous man had, or what he was indecisive about but the longing she knew. Longing for someone, anyone to see the person behind the mask and scars (both literally and figuratively) of the past.
Hermione continued to stare into his eyes as her mind swirled with possibilities. Sitting in front of her was a man who was offering her everything she ever wanted in a relationship and more. He wanted someone who would be a friend and a lover. Someone to talk to and debate with and well and snogging and sex. He had not flinched at her scars and in fact still looked at her with lust even knowing they were there. She knew he had a dark past but really hers wasn't the brightest either. Here was someone who knew who she was and didn't want her for her fame or her brains. He had plenty of his own, he didn't need hers.
As for their ages, she wondered if he knew that she was much closer to 20 than the 19 she was supposed to be. She had not been as careful as she could have been with the time turner in her third year. Yes he was much older than her but, seeing as witches and wizards lived much longer than the average muggle, she saw no downside to it. In fact, after spending all of last year taking care of two teenage boys both day and night, had turned her off of men her own age. Sure the gap was more than most, but it in no way bothered her.
She may have her whole life ahead of her but seeing as her life now consisted of teaching the next generation, she was thrilled to know she could spend it with someone beside her year round, and not just on the holidays. Knowing that Severus Snape was interested in her, truly interested, was almost a dream come true. And yes, he was sex on legs with a voice of sin, which didn't hurt matters any.
Hermione bit her lip in indecision though. While she was more than happy to see if they could work as a couple, it didn't mean he still did. Yes he had wanted to at dinner, but he didn't say anything about still wanting her after seeing how flawed she really was. Not only had he witnessed her over reaction at dinner, but he had seen the damage to her body as well. Still looking into his eyes she finally voiced her doubts.
"Are you sure you still want me? Me? The person who a few hours ago overreacted so badly to nothing but a hand on her arm, she almost hexed the persons face off? The girl who spends her days covered in glamours to hide the horrors the war left on her body?" Hermione finally dropped her hand and started to turn away, forcing herself to continue. "If you want to take it all back I will not blame you. You can leave now and tomorrow we start over, pretend that tonight never happened and that we are just meeting again for the first time." Hermione turned her head away further, hoping he wouldn't notice the tears forming as she gave him an out. One she was sure he would use.
He surprised her again. Instead of standing up and heading to the door like she thought he would, she felt his hand come up and rest against her cheek. Using her own actions from before against her, this time he turned her head and looked deeply into her eyes looking for the truth. She let her own insecurities and doubt show but mostly she focused on the hope his actions had given her. Emotions flashed in his eyes to quickly for her to decipher before settling on determination and want.
"Hermione, what you went through in the was enough to break a weaker witch. That you still have trouble adjusting in understandable. It doesn't make you weak. The fact that you did not in fact hex Septimas face off is a testament to just how strong you are. You stopped yourself even in your panic, from hurting her. That is truly incredible. As for the scars on your body, I am the last person to hold them against you. Many who fought in the war have scars of their own and I more than most. More than even you I am sure. The scars are not a horror but a reminder of just how strong you really are. You obtained these scars and lived to tell about it. You were strong enough to fight and clever enough to win. The scars are not a detriment to but rather a part of your beauty. You are a fierce warrior who survived a terrible ordeal and lived to continue on. You are the strongest, most intelligent, most clever witch I know. It would be an absolute honor for any wizard to catch your eye and receive any attention you would be willing to bestow upon him." Snape held her gaze as he slowly picked apart each of her insecurities and ground them to dust. Obliterating her doubts with sound logic and fierce determination. Hermione felt a tightness in her throat and tears fell from her eyes as she took in the look of truth and conviction he bestowed upon her.
She knew then and there that this was the man for her. The only man for her. He did not sneer at her faults but turned them into strengths. He did not turn away in disgust at her scars but saw them in a positive light. Her tears stopped as she slowly raised her hand to cup his cheek in a mirror too his own hand on hers. Cautiously she leaned forward, never breaking eye contact to bring her face and her lips closer to his own. She stopped a hairsbreadth away feeling his breath ghost across her face. She looked at him with all the want and need that had been building in her since his first words caressed her senses at dinner. She did not bring her lips to his however, leaving the last infinitesimal step to him, hoping he would take it.
She was not disappointed as she felt his lips brush against hers. She continued to look into his eyes as his swirled first with doubt but finally settled on determination, want, and need. Her breath hitched and her eyes drifted shut as his lips crashed against hers firm and determined. Suddenly his hand was no longer on her face but fisted in the hair at the back of her neck. She gasped when he tugged her face into better position and he took the opportunity to invade her mouth with his tongue. Breaths mingled and tongues clashed. Hermione fisted her hands into Snape's shirt as she groaned. Desire and need swirled low in her belly and her panties were soaked with her arousal.
Finally they broke apart, chest heaving sucking in much needed air. They stared into each others eyes seeing their own feelings and desired shining back at them. Acceptance, desire, and the start of something more. Hope for a new beginning and a fresh start. Their lips touched again, softly this time. The raging storm of their first kiss giving way to gentle sweeps and soft pressure. When his tongue licked at hers, requesting permission instead of demanding entrance, she have it to him. Languid strokes, and searching thrusts replaced battling and ferocity. Gentle nibbles on swollen lips were soothed by warm strokes. Fisted hands unclenched into tentative caresses. Feelings slowed from their frantic swirling into deep seated contentment. Want and desire were still present, bubbling up but no longer controlling.
Eventually their hands stilled and their lips broke apart but still they didn't move away from each other. Hermione had rested her forehead against his own as she realized that she had somehow gone from kneeling beside him to sitting in his lap. The long day and wine started to take effect on her as she snuggled into his arms, moving her head to his shoulder. She felt his lips press against her hair before he rested his chin on the top of her curls. She stifled a yawn, not wanting to move but knowing that sleep was quickly coming upon her.
As she laid there for a moment, listening to the beat of his slowing heart, she wondered if this was how it would always be with him. Sure there was still many things they needed to talk about if they were going to be in a real relationship. Right here right now, wrapped safely in her arms, Hermione could not find it in her to be bothered. Come what may, they would figure it out. Together. Scars and all.