Secrets Best Kept

Part Five

She opened her eyes.

He was standing in front of her, his arm braced against the desk, leaning on it for support. His face was pale, his breathing ragged. He grasped his wand in his other hand, clenching his fist so tight that she could see the white outline of his knuckles.

She was on the ground at his feet. She knew that she should probably gather together her remaining dignity and stand up, but as soon as she did she would have had to look him in the eyes and she really, really wanted to avoid that at the moment.

What did it mean, she wondered. It was not so much simply that he remembered that night... but her name, the way he said it... it was not him calling out to her to return with more water. There was emotion attached to it, she could feel it in the memory. Something like longing, but the idea seemed so ludicrous that she could simply not fathom it.

She could hardly convince herself that after years of simply trying to be friendly with Severus Snape, all the times he pushed her away, sneered at her with disdain, that he had all along, harbored some repressed feelings for her. Particularly after his little speech involving her own memories from the night before. She could hear his voice, wickedly seething, in her head: "Whatever misconceptions you may be so anxious that I have formed, I can guarantee you that I have not."

But the idea that he might actually have feelings... fascinated her.

She couldn't continue to sit on the floor. Standing, brushing off her robes, she gathered the will to look him in the face and said, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what, Miss Granger?" he asked, his face returning to its normal color, only slightly darker than the ghost white hue it had just possessed. And then, his lips pressed into a straight, angry line, "I suppose Mr. Potter taught you that little trick?"

"I hadn't intended to..." she began.

"Violently invade my personal space?" he finished for her. "I applaud you for finding that little loophole instead of actually practicing good occlumency, but I suspect your motives may have been less than noble. I think we've both learned today that there are some secrets best kept in one's own mind. Now go, before I decide I no longer wish to continue our lessons." He turned his back to her.

"I was there too," she said simply, not moving from her place, staring holes into the back of his robes.

He turned back to her, slowly. "Excuse me? Why are you still here?"

"I said, I was there too." She took a breath, determined not to let him intimidate her. "It wasn't so much your personal space if it was a memory that we both share, is it?"

He looked slightly taken aback. So she wasn't surprised when he returned with anger, the emotion he seemed to default to whenever she startled him. "I don't believe that's the point," he snarled. "And I refuse to discuss this with you. If you do not leave my office immediately I will not be held responsible for my actions."

"Why did you call for me again, that night?" she asked, not feeling as brave as she would have liked considering that this line of questioning was likely to get her hexed six ways to Sunday before she could pull out her wand.

"MUST I ASK YOU AGAIN TO LEAVE?" Snape yelled, and she could tell that she'd shaken him.

"I imagine Professor Dumbledore would be quite put out if you cursed me or threw me physically from your office just for a simple question," Hermione continued calmly.

"Fine," he hissed, "If you insist on playing this little game. I imagine the reason I called for you was to reprimand you for being out of bed at such a late hour, and I suspected, eavesdropping to boot." He glared at her. "Is my answer satisfactory, or were you expecting something more interesting, Miss Granger?"

"I think you're lying," she said, relishing the feeling of oxygen entering her lungs, quite aware that it may be the last. She realized that she would likely regret this, but couldn't imagine another opportunity to catch Snape so unguarded, and she just... had to know.

He laughed, but it was hollow. "Silly girl," he said, "What are you expecting? That I shall confess some hidden undying love for you?"

She felt herself blush slightly, having not expected him to mock her. How cruel.

He continued. "Ah, that must be it. For the past six years I've been secretly pining away for the brilliant Hermione Granger... whom I always saw as an annoying child until that fateful night when she tended my wounds and I fell hopelessly in love."

The heat spread on her face, and she simply couldn't stand it anymore. He was probably going to throw her out and never speak to her again after this anyway, so what did it matter what she said? "What do you know of love?" she cried, seeing him wince slightly at the level of her voice. "You're a lonely man who revels in his own pain, refusing to believe that anyone could possibly love you. And so you become even more vile and abusive, giving them every reason not to. That's why you were so defensive about the images you saw in my mind. You can't stand the thought that another person may actually think about you with something other than loathing, because it undermines your entire belief structure. You wouldn't know what to do with love if you had it; it would just whither and die under your grasp. You're just livid over the fact that I might actually care for you, even just a little bit."

"That was quite an analysis," he hissed. "But don't try to pretend you care about me."

"I'M NOT BLOODY PRETENDING!" Hermione yelled, thinking she might rip his throat out if he mocked her one more time. "YOU VILE, LOATHSOME, EVIL MAN!"

He stared at her for a moment, shocked, and she waited for the hexes to fly. But instead, he did something profoundly unexpected.

He grabbed her around the waist, pulled her into his arms, and pressed his lips roughly against hers.

*****

She tasted like lemonade, he thought. Well, he was really thinking all manner of things but most of them involved the heat of her body pressed against his, the feeling of his hands threading through that wild mane of hair, the softness of her lips, her tongue... and the thought that she - that she - was kissing him back.

At least, for a second.

Because then she suddenly pushed him away, somewhat forcefully, and pressed two fingers disbelievingly to her lips, still swollen from his kisses. "What - what are you doing?" she stammered.

Oh, fuck.

"I...I..." Ah, where is your quick wit, your sharp tongue, your biting retort now, Severus? Was this his punishment for letting his guard down for a fraction of a second? Just long enough to let some other part of your body than your head do the decision-making for you, he thought bitterly. Didn't really matter if it had been his heart or his libido, either way he had just been made a royal fool.

He realized that that kiss may just have been the most out of character thing he had ever done in his entire life. Once he regained some control of himself he said, with surprising calm, "I warned you, Miss Granger, that if you did not leave I would not be held responsible for my actions. You have obviously..."

He stopped there, because suddenly, she was laughing. Roaring, was more like it.

His eyes leveled on her with a cool gaze. "I'm glad this amuses you, Miss Granger. Now you can kindly leave my office before I make you do so by force."

"No, no, I..." She managed to stop laughing long enough to choke out a reply. "I'm not laughing at you, Severus, I swear. And I'm not going to leave just to salvage your pride."

"May I ask then," he began slowly, trying to maintain as much dignity as possible while feeling for perhaps the first time in his life that he would prefer to sink to a puddle in the floorboards, "what you find so terribly funny?" And had she just called him "Severus"?

She cleared her throat. "You see, well, I suppose I was kind of laughing at you, but not at what you thought..."

His glare told her to tread softly.

"You see, I just cannot help but find it a bit, well, ironic, really, that after five years of my being awfully nice to you, trying to catch your attentions really, that it took my screaming insults at you in order to get you to kiss me." She giggled, and it ended in a snort. "And then - and then when I show the slightest bit of hesitation you immediately sink back into ice-prince-loathing-me mode even though you'd just..." She started laughing again.

He didn't know what to say; the girl was obviously hysterical.

"You're like - you're like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde only you're Mr. Hyde nearly all of the time!" She finally stopped laughing.

"Mr. who?" he asked, while thinking, did she just say "get you to kiss me?"

"Oh, it's a muggle... nevermind." She took a breath, looked at him with soft eyes. "Now that I've contained myself may I stay long enough to ask you a question?"

"You may, but I reserve the privilege not to answer it."

"Why did you kiss me?"

"I... I don't know, obviously some bizarre lapse in judgment. Must have hit my head on the desk when you hit me with the shielding curse."

She sighed, pursed her lips into a tight frown. "You're lying to me again. What are you so bloody afraid of?"

"Afraid? Are you quite mad, Miss Granger?" Quite perceptive, really. Gods, this woman could drive a man to drinking...

"AND WOULD YOU STOP CALLING ME MISS GRANGER!" she yelled, then took a deep breath. "I apologize. Now. I'm sorry that I pushed you away so abruptly, but I..."

He held up a hand to stop her. "Please refrain from finishing that sentence, Miss..." He stopped, then continued. "I can only imagine."

She glared at him. "But I," she went on, "was quite shocked. Understandably so, don't you think?"

He nodded reluctantly.

The air of control around her seemed to waiver, and she was obviously slightly flustered as she continued. "I mean... I was quite shocked that you did it, of course. But really, I mean, what I was really shocked about was..." He could see a slight red tinge color her cheeks. "I feel like that was the kiss I've been waiting for my whole life."

He gaped. Was rendered completely, stone-cold speechless, unable to comprehend what she had just said.

She appeared to interpret his silence as a negative reaction. "Well, I mean, but if it was just rubbish to you..." she stammered.

"You stupid, stupid girl," he growled, and pulled her into him again.

*****

His lips on hers were like fire. Then when he trailed kisses down her neck it was like tiny bursts of flame alighting on her skin. How had she possibly thought this man was cold?

Her fingers tangled into that jet-black hair, which was only soft rather than greasy. A low groan escaped from the back of his throat when she tugged on it to pull him closer to her.

She turned her head towards his ear and whispered, "You're not going to tell me later that this is because you hit your head on the desk, are you?"

"Insolent girl," he said into her ear, and then nipping softly at it.

"Aren't you going to call me by my name?" she asked, shuddering slightly as his hands ran up the bottom of her sweater and his fingers slid lightly up the length of her back.

"Yes," he said, capturing her mouth again. Probably to shut her up, she thought, amused.

Still kissing him, she pulled her wand out with a free hand and pointed it at the desk behind him.

He turned around, looking startled, and then looked at her, to where the desk had previously stood, and back to her.

"I was an excellent transfiguration student," she said smugly. "If Professor McGonagall can turn one into a pig I can certainly manage a small bed."

He still had his arms around her waist, and he spun her around quickly, lifting her up and setting her down onto the bed, staying where he was, towering over her.

"I don't understand..." he said, almost sounding morose. "I'm an old man..."

"Don't forget crotchety," she said playfully. "You're a crotchety old man." But he looked so positively and profoundly confused that she grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit next to her, saying seriously, "Severus, do you really think that age is all that important? I may be young but you're certainly not all that old... How old are you, anyway? 44? 45?"

"46," he said, sounding annoyed. "I could be your father."

"Well, actually, my father is quite stodgy and very unattractive. He's a dentist, you know. And I uphold the delusion that my parents have never, ever, had sex in their entire lives." She looked at him, hoping maybe she could get him to break a smile.

Nope, not even a glimmer. "Don't be silly, you know what I mean. Why? Why could you possibly find me attractive?"

"See what I mean?" she said softly, running a finger down the side of his face. "You just refuse to believe that anyone could love you."

"But I'm... I'm... I'm a vile, loathsome, evil man!" he finished, giving her a triumphant look.

"Ah... sorry about that. But you are sometimes, you know." She looked thoughtful. "Most of the time, really."

He looked exasperated. "So why?"

"Do you mind if I ask you the same question first?" she said gently. "Why me?"

He stared at her. "Because... gods, woman, are you serious? You're brilliant, and witty, and loyal. You may have been annoying as a child but you've grown into a woman who has more strength than I sometimes think I possess myself." He sighed, remembering the memory they shared. "You're kind without pity."

His words sent a shiver of happiness down her body. She'd found it. This was the side of him that she'd almost glimpsed so many times. It was there just below the surface, breaking its way into that gruff exterior... and she loved both sides of him, really.

"I notice you didn't mention anything about large breasts or long legs or a beautiful mouth..." she began slyly, seeing his eyes widen slightly in surprise. "And that, dear Severus, besides the fact that I think you're incredibly sexy -" She put a finger over his lips, and continued, "Whether you may think so or not - is why I want to shag you silly."

"Well of course I think you're beautiful," he said, sounding slightly stunned. "I didn't think it necessary to mention that part."

She laughed. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that woman love the dark, mysterious, brooding type?"

"That's not the..."

"Oh, do shut up," she said, kissing him as her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his robes.

He caught her hands in his. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

She looked into his eyes. "Absolutely. I think we've both been waiting for this for a long time... even if we didn't know it." She brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. "And I promise you that I will still be here in the morning."

"As will I."

And later, as bodies joined in the darkness, two names exploded into the passion. For the first time in six years, her name left his lips. "Hermione..."