Through Tinted Windows

Chapter 6

I've been watching your world from afar

I've been trying to be where you are

And I've been secretly falling apart, unseen

To me, you're strange and you're beautiful

You'd be so perfect with me, but you just can't see

You turn every head but you don't see me...

Part of: 'Strange and Beautiful'

Performed By: Aqualung

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There was nothing. Surrounding her like a suffocating blanket - the silence deafening - and she fidgeted in bed. She had not been able to sleep a wink and it was already passed one o'clock in the morning. Perhaps it had been the nap she had taken this afternoon after the commotion, she thought to herself, trying to justify her discomfort. It could not have been that, however, for she regularly had the habit of napping in the day and sleeping at night.

Thinking about that reminded her of her very own Crookshanks, cat extraordinaire and the one faithful companion throughout her Hogwarts education. He had passed away already as he had been old when she got him. She missed him, especially there, in the fire lit room, on an expansive bed that seemed to grow with every second that ticked. She shifted again under the duvet that created a cocoon of warmth for her body. She didn't want to think of the past. How many inspirational stories had she read? See the truth and let it go in one breath. No need to linger in the past. Her eyes skipped over the flickering orange light on the ceiling, watching as it moved in a subtle manner.

It was at that moment that she realized what made her feel so out of place: Smetana, Mendelssohn, Tchaikovsky... and the wonderful master himself, Beethoven. She lacked the usual rhythm that had lulled her to sleep every night. The first night she was recovering from her travel to Snape's cottage. The second night - well, the second night wasn't exactly a time when she was able to think straight. It was the third night already and now the realization of what was lacking flew into her mind.

Oh, but to be surrounded by the rise of the wonderful strings of violins; the subtle ring of the notes of a piano piece... to be carried along the river of music, encountering the breathtaking catches and crescendos of the various movements. Its ghostly presence flitted through her mind, but only tidbits, as if being served scraps of a feast. Tossing one more time and sighing, she pushed the coverlet from over her and stepped down, relieved that what met her skin was pure fuzz and not cold stone.

The oversized shirt would just have to do, she thought to herself as she looked down at her attire. Raking a hand through her tangle of hair, she stepped into her slippers by the door and stepped out, immediately shuddering at the temperature that hit her warm body. Bracing herself, she walked along the hallway, making sure her steps were minimal in their taps. Door after door was passed until she came to a final one: Snape's chambers. She only wanted to ask him for her music. She wanted to go back home and collect the little compact discs and disc player to finally reach the land of slumber. Her hand came up to knock on the door, but it swung open before it came in contact with the wood and met cloth and muscle instead. Gasping, she jumped back, her hand flying to her pounding heart, eyes wide in surprise. "Severus!"

Her voice came out husky from hours of disuse. She should have known his sense of hearing and smell was sharp. Had they not been his success in potion-making would have been one pitfall after another. She looked at him now, dressed in dark trousers and a matching shirt that was partially unbuttoned revealing smooth ivory-like skin. She almost longed to see whether it really was ivory - hard and cold, or warm skin that was honed, but warm to the touch. Her face paled at where her thoughts were leading her.

He in turn was silent for a moment, a heavy scowl gracing his face. He was a cautious man and her sneaking about disrupted his nightly brooding, causing him to grow suspicious. He quietly ambled towards the door and took in a quiet breath, trying to sense some sort of foul scent. Instead of finding his murderer's stench, he discovered the same scent that had left him intoxicated the day of the auction. Much to his expectations, he swung the door open and there stood his 'partner by default for a week.' He had every right to be agitated, even the slightest, he thought to himself as he watched her paled face. Still, he couldn't help but feel somewhat satisfied by her presence, though it left him disconcerted. Feeling as if his disquiet was showing on his face, he had doubled the glower he had and eyed Hermione.

"And what brings you to breach what little privacy I have left?" Well done, Severus. Nothing like the old cynicism to cover things up.

"I really quite sorry," she murmured with a sheepish look on her face. "It's just that..."

He waited for a moment then with the movement of his hand, indicated she go on. It didn't work, however, and he was forced to speak. "And... what? Really, Hermione, does it look like I am a psychic?" He paused and seemed to be deep in thought. "Actually, if I found the right potion, I believe my abilities would extend to that level."

She rolled her eyes, knowing full well that he would not even bother with such a thing. He was never the type to know other people's thoughts. "Please, Severus. All I wanted to ask you was if it would be possible to Apparate to my home in Muggle London to get my music." She pursed her lips and looked up at him, expecting some snide remark, forgetting that he had been making an effort to be more civil towards her. He saw this and almost felt bad for acting so senile when she was - younger.

"Are you sure it would be reasonable to go at this time of night? I think you should wait till morning," he advised, though what he really wanted to say was 'there's no bloody way I'm getting out of my house at this time of night just to get some bloody Muggle stuff.' Early morning brooding had that sour affect on him and it didn't hold back in his mind.

"I positively must get it now," she pushed. "I can't sleep without my music."

"You did the past two nights if I recall."

"Those don't count," she insisted. "I wasn't in the right of mind then. Now that I am... Please, Severus, I'm close to begging you."

She gave him a look of such despair and helplessness, hoping that it would help make up his mind to go along with the whole plan. She saw him wince slightly, and she dreaded that he would refuse her request. She was so used to such things - especially from him - so she put up an apologetic smile and worked herself up to making a proper and formal apology for her intrusion.

"Very well," he agreed, before she opened her mouth.

He watched in slight amusement as the shock and realization registered on her face, enjoying the play of emotions as it flickered through one after the other. He raised a brow at her as her stunned silence lengthened to indefinite measures. "Well? Are we leaving now or not?"

She shook her head as if to dissipate whatever daze she was in and nodded, a slow appreciative smile touching her lips. Snape watched her turn to go back to her rooms, briefly glancing down at the lovely sway of her hips and the smooth skin of her exposed legs. The aching feeling began to flow through his body and he looked away, retreating back into his room, a growl building in his throat. He felt like slamming the door but prevented himself from doing so, knowing it would call her attention to him again. Quickly grabbing his robes, he pulled them on and, chiding himself for his desire for the woman, he walked out to meet her.

He was halfway to her room when he spotted her and stopped, waiting until she got to where he stood. She had changed into something more conservative and warm - much to his relief - and was pulling on gloves when she nodded to him. Together, they walked outside to a comfortable Apparating area and paused. Snape looked at Hermione in a somewhat hesitant manner. "I have no desire of getting splinched."

"Do I look like I do? But what other choice do we have but to Apparate, linked in some way?" She paused then held out her palm. "Give me your hand." She looked up at him with eyes that showed no hint of wariness or sleepiness in them.

Oh, but what clear eyes you have! She looked so determined, as if going on some special mission to save the world. With a sceptical look on his face, he grasped her hand and together they apparated to Hermione's shared apartment. They landed in the shadow of a big tree, well away from large crowds. Sounds of the Muggle world rushed to greet them as they got to their destination: cars, motorcycles and the rare truck roared passed a road just across from where they had landed, safe and to both of their relief, not splinched at all. The city never really slept at all, though there were the moments of quiet that settled upon them.

She tentatively walked towards the entrance to her home, her shoulders loosening as she stepped towards it. Snape could see she was quite at home here, not as jumpy as she had been at his cottage. He felt a slight twinge of something indefinable to him that made him want to bring her back - make her feel that way about his home. As he watched her, she rummaged through her coat and extracted a key. Using it, she opened the door and indicated for him to follow, then disappeared into the darkness of the inside. Shrugging to himself, he went inside, going up a series of steps before seeing her outline disappear through one door.

He was just about to go through when there was a delighted squeal and thumping of feet. Alarmed by this, he burst in, only to find himself witness to a reunion. Hermione was being hugged by another Asiatic woman, slightly shorter than she, but exotic. He cocked his head to the side and watched in speculation as the scene unfolded in front of his eyes.

"Oh, I thought I'd never see you again!" the dark-skinned one gushed, giving a loud smack of the lips on each cheek. Her accent had a slight British twinge growing in it, but there was an outlandish twist to it, only reinforcing the whole fact that she was not originally from the UK . "How are you, love? Are you back for good? Has the sentence been lifted?"

Hermione emitted a tinkling laugh, so merry that it hit a spot in Snape, but he shoved it aside and observed. "Oh, Meg, you exaggerate far too much sometimes," she teased, her eyes sparkling. "And no, I'm not." She put up her right hand as if reciting a code of honour. "I'm on an official mission to retrieve my discs and the CD player to bring back to Severus's cottage."

The other girl raised a brow and put a distance between the two. "Oh? And do I get to meet this - man of mystery?"

"He's over there," she informed, pointing a finger at him. "I already told you we can't get farther than a certain distance from another or we'll be tugged to an area within that given perimeter. Severus, it's alright to come out. I want you to meet my friend, anyway."

Reluctant to do so, he took a moment just to adjust himself then stepped towards the two, watching the reaction of Hermione's friend. To his expectation, her gaze narrowed. There was a subtle pursing in her lips but she managed a smile for him. He nodded curtly in his formal Snape manner.

"Severus Snape, I would like you to meet my good friend and room mate, Megara Gold." She beamed then looked down at her watch. "Oh, I really must get my music. Why don't you two get to know each other?" With that, she hurried off to her quarters, leaving an awkwardness to settle upon the two.

They watched each other in tension, their shoulders stiff, creating a clashing environment. She moved suddenly, her hands clasped behind her back as she began to circle him. He kept vigil, his stance strong and sure, with a hint of cautiousness in his eyes. She seemed to be assessing him, her gaze moving from his head to the bottom of his black cloak. She was acting like her mother, seeing if her daughter had chosen a suitable mate. As she rounded back to where she started, he looked up at him sternly.

"I don't trust you with her," she stated bluntly.

"I don't trust myself with her either," he shot back evenly giving her a straight look.

She didn't say anything for a moment, the silence accompanied by only the slight tick of a clock somewhere in the room. Her eyes softened then, the tension that had been so palpable just a second before ebbing away, and she gave him a sad look. Folding her arms over her chest, she looked down.

"I love her, you know." It was a quiet confession that was meant for only him to know. He was glad that Hermione was out of the room. There was a slight pause where he finally realized what she meant by what she had said. "She won't love me back though," she added wistfully before her eyes flickered back to him. "But I think that she's falling in love with you."

He raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to question her on that, but Hermione came back at that moment, holding a bag of her Muggle trinkets. She had a dreamy look on her face as she walked towards them and the two forgot their conversation and turned all of their attention to her. She moved her eyes from one person to the other and came back to herself as she observed the two in curiosity. "Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, no, 'Mione," Meg assured her almost immediately, then gave Snape a welcoming grin. "Just telling this guy here of our little story of how it all started." She turned to him and placed her hand casually on her hip. "As I was saying, she was stone drunk and I had to save her before those old gits at the bar got a hold of her. The next thing she knows, she's in her own apartment in the presence of a little homosexual female, stripped down to her undies!"

She laughed hysterically and Hermione blushed deep crimson and swatted her companion. "Bloody hell, Meg, you didn't have to tell him that! God, you have such a big mouth sometimes!" She pouted, but it quivered and she, too, began laughing at the incident. She looked up at Snape who had a little smile tugging at his lips. "Really, Severus, I don't do that on a regular basis."

He shook his head and the smile grew a little more and his shoulders lost their stiffness. He seemed to understand why companionship was valued so much to her. Here in front of him was happiness - she was content with being who she was and all her flaws didn't count. She was accepted by her friends, her acquaintances and without it there was no real liveliness in her.

At that exact moment, he began to envy her happiness, her beauty, her love for the life. He lacked all of this in his own dreary world. How could he have any when his chosen fate was that of utter solitude and controlled relationships?

The smile that had been present just moments ago was lost and his expression was vacant when Hermione stopped chatting to Meg. Worried about this, she turned back to her friend and smiled apologetically. "I believe I must go now, Meg. Look it, he's sleeping on his feet!" Her laughter came out somewhat strained afterwards but her expression was still warm as she hugged her Muggle friend one last time. "Take care. I'll... I'll see you in a few days."

With that said she took Snape's hand in hers and in a firm grip, pulled him downstairs. He followed in a listless manner, which worried her even more. Hurrying over to the Apparating spot, she squeezed his hand tightly and together they went back to the cottage's yard. They stood in the dark, the nocturnal life the only thing that accompanied them. She took a chance and brought her nervous gaze up to him. He was still deep in his own world, a thoughtful frown on his face. Shaking his arm slightly, she called in a whisper. "Severus? Are you alright?"

His obsidian gaze flickered down to her and much to her surprise, it grew tender and a hint of a smile graced his lips once again as the slashing angles in his face loosened. His fingers brushed the strands of hair that had made their way to her face to the side and rubbed her cheek. He seemed to be searching for something in her face - a trace of something that she had no idea of. His movements, however, had caught her utmost attention and involuntarily, she leaned towards his touch and allowed her eyes to close as she sighed, exhilarated by his actions. Whatever had caused him to do this, she thanked, for it had made him do something that she had been longing for him to do for a long time: touch her with his a loving hand. His ministrations paused however and she shot her eyes up at him again.

"You have so much," he murmured.

She shuddered at his voice, so silky; so soft. Did he know what he did to her? Did he know how much she wanted to just give up all she had so that she could have his lips over hers at that moment? She almost didn't comprehend what he said, but the movement of his mouth made what he had just said coherent.

"I have so much what?" she asked breathlessly.

"Love," he stated simply and he sighed, letting his hand fall limply to his side as he put a distance between them. Her heart sank low at the loss, not understanding the change in him. Wetting her lips, she frowned and tried to see what he was thinking from his expression. He had tactically turned his back to her, so the possibility of her seeing the sense of loss in his eyes was not to be.

They stood there, in the darkness with only the moon and stars as their source of light, a silence coming between them. It was neither awkward nor comforting either. The wind picked up at certain points, causing her to shiver, but it fell just as quickly as it came. She watched his figure, trying to sense anything. He was like a brick wall at that point, however, emanating nothing but a sense of presence.

Snape was actually warring with his emotions that were threatening to tip over. He had witness what he could have had that early morning. It was there, at the tip of his fingers, but his fate stood in his way and it was lost in a sea of blood and anguish. His memories flooded back, the pain that it set and the hardness it had placed over his soul.

Glancing over his shoulder, he noted that Hermione was where he had left her and his stomach twisted. Turning back to her, he took a step towards her then stopped when they were a foot apart. Looking down at her, he pursed his lips, quietly deciding whether she was ready to listen or not. She is mature enough, a voice in his head insisted. Besides, she deserves an explanation. Inhaling a full breath, he spoke. "There is something that you should know."

Her eyes widened slightly, but she nodded. "What is it? It seems to be bothering you." She had seen his brows knit together causing his expression to grow harsher just a moment before and could think nothing of it. There was a pause and she was unsettled by it.

"It's been long overdue, really," he confessed. "You've exposed yourself - who you are, what you believe, why you think the way you do. Still, you know nothing of me or my past. I believe that the time has come for me to give the answers to the questions that I have left you hanging with."

She looked back on the few days and she recalled all the times that he stalked off without giving some response or he would just refuse to say anything at all. She blinked then looked back at the entrance to the cottage. "Would it be possible to take this inside?"

He nodded in consent and they walked together in silence. They shed their voluminous clothes to a more comfortable layer and she sat in at the kitchen table. The fire in the stove was burning quietly, warming the two from the outside chill. Snape busied himself to making a pot of coffee for a few moments and she was left to wonder as to what he would say. At what time would he begin? Would he talk about the woman he had so adamantly refused to talk about? So many questions were running through her mind and she propped her chin on her left hand, the right one tracing patterns on the wooden table.

When he came back, she sat up quickly, attentive and almost eager to hear what he would say. He poured the both of them a cup and as he stirred the black liquid, he began to speak, his voice cool and calculated.

And she listened.