Survivors

CHAPTER 10

- The Reunion -

Hermione stood before her mirror, inspecting her appearance. If there was one good thing to say about witches' robes, it was that they hid figure flaws. Hermione had gone through a period in adolescence when she had been sensitive about her looks, especially her face and hair, but she'd never really been bothered about her body. It had all the right parts and had served her well thus far. She wasn't ashamed of it, but on the other hand nor did she particularly feel like flaunting it. The (few) boys she had dated had certainly been more interested in it than she was. Viktor had been very proper, never too forward, but he had clearly been highly attentive to her, and taken every opportunity to touch and kiss her, without ever becoming appropriate. Then had come McLaggen in her sixth year; not that she had actually dated him, but he had very obviously been interested in her, and not for her intellect. She had soon put a stop to him, but it had been in a certain way flattering to know that someone might be attracted to her looks alone.

And then there had been Ron. Her best friend. Her first lover. They had been all wrong for each other; that was clear to her now, and had in fact been clear to her then, but they had both been desperate to find some reason to live, both fleeing the death they had witnessed. Both seeking reminders of Harry in the other. They had both used each other's bodies then, and again, hers had served well, but she couldn't say that there had been any further spark, any greater attraction. When they had used up their grief, they had both woken up one morning, looked each other in the eye, and known that that phase of their relationship was over. There had been no reproaches, no awkwardness. Just a moving on.

Afterwards, during her studies, she had carried on a rather torrid on-again-off-again affair with a junior lecturer. He had been married, it had eventually gotten ugly, and Hermione had just managed to get away with her academic reputation intact.

Since then, there had been nobody, but for all her lack of experience, Hermione did think she knew how to read the signs, and unfortunately, Remus Lupin was showing several of them. She hated to hurt him, but she just wasn't interested in him that way. He was a great friend. She had him in the same category as Ron, only much older and without the sexual history. She just hoped that he would never really try anything, because then she would be forced to be blunt.

Which was why she was agonizing over her appearance just now. Tonight was the reunion at the Leaky Cauldron, and she wanted to look good. Just not too good. She wanted to represent the D.A. properly, wanted to show that her association with these fine people meant something to her, which meant she didn't want to look like she was just dropping in after a round of shopping. On the other hand, she was fearful that if she went too dolled up, Remus might think she was trying to impress him.

She was currently wearing a deep red robe over a form-fitting (but not tight) bodice and demure neckline, with long flared sleeves, and loose skirts. Sensible black boots underneath (there was snow on the ground), and her hair twisted up in a simple chignon. No make-up, no jewelry. She felt plain enough, yet elegant enough.

She, Remus, Hagrid, Minerva, and Filius had agreed to meet at 7 pm in the Great Hall, to walk to the Apparition point together. She had heard Minerva informing Severus of their plans that morning at breakfast, if he cared to join them, and he had muttered something in return that hadn't exactly sounded like a refusal, so Hermione had hopes that he would be coming, too. He just had to, she thought stubbornly. If only because it would lessen the chance that the others would make derogatory comments about him behind his back. She thrust her wand into the hip pocket of her robe, grabbed her cloak, and went downstairs.

Remus and Filius were already there. Both looked at her appreciatively when she arrived. "You look lovely," Remus said, and it looked as though he wanted to say more, but stopped. He was wearing his best suit, a gray tweed, under a dark gray cloak.

"Yes, indeed," Filius agreed. "Ravishing."

Hermione felt her face getting hot. "Thank you," she said, avoiding looking directly at either of them. Not plain enough, obviously!

Minerva arrived shortly thereafter, in an intricately embroidered dark green and purple robe over a matching high-necked dress, with her customary pointed hat. Hermione had never taken to the hats, although she would wear them on formal ceremonial occasions.

"Good evening," the Headmistress said. "Are we all ready then? We can stop by Hagrid's cabin and pick him up on the way."

Everyone started for the front doors, Remus holding out his arm to Hermione to escort her.

"Wait, what about Severus?" Hermione said, disliking once again having to be the one to stick up for him.

"Oh, he most likely won't be joining us," Minerva said. "He avoids these social obligations whenever possible."

"But that's not right," Hermione insisted, standing her ground. "He's just as much a member of the Order as any of you are. He played an important role in defeating Voldemort. He should be coming along."

"Once again, I agree with you, Hermione," Minerva said patiently, "but once again, Severus has the right to live his own life. And this time, he is not committing any crime by sitting in his room and sulking."

Hermione looked at the other three professors. They all obviously felt the same way. They didn't care about Severus coming along; in fact, they were probably relieved that they wouldn't have to put up with his dour presence that night.

"I'm going down to get him," Hermione determined stubbornly.

Minerva pressed her lips together and glanced at Remus. "Hermione, I think you should let it be."

"I'm sorry, but I can't," she said. "You don't have to wait for me; I'll come along later."

"It wouldn't be fair to you or the others if you missed the reunion, Hermione. I'm sure there are people there who are looking forward to seeing you," Remus reminded her.

"I won't miss the reunion, I promise. I'm just going to go down and make sure Severus knows that someone at least wants him to be there."

"I'll come with you, then," Remus said firmly, and this time, Hermione knew there was no putting him off.

"Fine," Hermione agreed. "You two go on, get Hagrid, we'll catch up with you. If not at the Apparition point, then in Diagon Alley."

Minerva and Filius set out through the great doors, and Remus and Hermione headed down to the dungeons. The corridors were empty; there were a few students staying in the castle over the holidays, but they mainly stayed in their common rooms or the library in the evenings. At the ashwinder, Hermione reached up and pushed on the scarlet egg as she had seen Filch do. "Severus?" she called. "We're all ready to go."

They waited a moment, Hermione getting ever more impatient. Remus shrugged. "He probably doesn't want to go."

"But I want him to go," Hermione growled, and pushed on the egg again. "Severus! It's Hermione! I'm not leaving until you come out!" She crossed her arms and scowled.

"I thought you said you weren't going to wait around all night," Remus reminded her.

"You don't have to wait if you don't want to," Hermione hissed.

Fortunately, Remus was spared having to take a stand, as the wall swung inward at that point.

"Professor Granger..." Snape began, in what might be termed a polite tone, before he saw that Remus was there, too. "...And Remus," he finished with a sneer.

So she's brought a protector with her this time. How quaint.

"Severus," Hermione said with a smile, "are you ready?"

"I shall not be attending this evening's gathering," he informed her stiffly.

"Of course you will," Hermione contradicted him.

"Have you suddenly developed clairvoyant abilities of which I am unaware?"

Remus sniggered.

Hermione was about to get indignant at Snape's sniping, but then realized that it was rather funny. A smile twitched at the corner of her lips. "Yes, I have," she retorted, tossing her head haughtily. "I have quite clearly seen you sitting in the Leaky Cauldron having a Firewhiskey and laughing at one of Hagrid's jokes."

"Then you must also have seen all nine hells frozen over," he responded drily. "Because I neither drink alcohol, nor have I ever found Rubeus Hagrid entertaining in the slightest."

"Then maybe it's time you did one or the other," Hermione suggested, meeting his gaze and holding it. It took a great deal of will-power to do this, as his dark eyes were boring into hers with such intensity that she was all but certain he was attempting to work Legilimency on her.

"Ahem." Remus cleared his throat, reminding the other two of his presence. "If I might." He glanced at Hermione, as if seeking her approval. She stepped aside. "Severus, Hermione here seems to set great store by you attending this gathering tonight. And, if I must say so, I also would find it only fitting that you be there as well, given all that you have contributed to the cause. So, without further ado, if you would be so kind as to grab your cloak, we can be off." He inclined his head to Snape in a deferential little bow.

Snape glared at Remus for a moment, then made an annoyed sound deep in his throat and disappeared for a moment, leaving the wall open. When he reappeared a matter of seconds later, he was ensconced in a heavy black cape. He breezed past the two Gryffindor professors and muttered, "Let's get this damn thing over with, then."

Hermione and Remus looked at each other, Hermione giving Remus a delighted smile and taking his proferred arm. Together, they mounted the stairs, trailing after the Potions master.

Outside, the night was clear and cold, the sky black and sparkling, the snow white and crisp. Severus marched ahead of the other two, although not so fast that they couldn't keep up.

"Thank you, Remus," Hermione whispered happily, hugging his arm. "I don't know that I could have convinced him to come along," she confided in him, recalling how all of her previous attempts at persuading Snape had turned out.

"I wasn't sure that he would be swayed by my arguments, either, but I'm glad it turned out the way you wanted. Without having to resort to other means of persuasion!" he added with a mischievous grin.

"What do you mean?"

Remus leaned over to speak in Hermione's ear. "Oh, just that if he hadn't agreed to come along willingly, I would have immobilized him and levitated him all the way there."

"You wouldn't!"

"No," Remus agreed with a chuckle, "you're right, I wouldn't. But it is fun to think about!"

Whatever possessed me to agree to this! I can hear them back there twittering and chortling like a couple of schoolchildren. I have no doubt that I am the butt of their little joke. I had thought for a moment that Granger... But look at how she dressed for him! Disgusting how they must fawn over each other!

As soon as Snape arrived at the Apparition point, he cracked out of sight without waiting for Remus and Hermione. Hermione let go of Remus's arm and went next, arriving at the head of Diagon Alley. A second later, Remus appeared beside her. It was still cold enough to see their breath, but there was no snow here; it must either have melted away or been trampled by the crowds. The lane was full of evening shoppers, couples heading for rendez-vous, and witches and wizards heading home from work. Snape had been swallowed up by the masses, if in fact he had even arrived.

"Do you think he skipped out on us?" Hermione asked, looking around, slightly worried.

"I don't know." Remus shrugged. "If so, we have no way of tracking him down now, if that's what you're thinking."

In fact, the thought had crossed Hermione's mind, but she immediately saw the futility in it, so she agreed that they should proceed to the Leaky Cauldron. When they got there, even from outside, they could hear a roar of laughter and the unmistakable boom of Hagrid's voice.

Inside, it was twice as loud, and became louder when Remus and Hermione's presence was noted by the group gathered around the great table running the length of the room.

"Hermione!" Hagrid cried, and his greeting was echoed a dozen times over. Minerva was seated next to him, and Filius beside her. There were Kingsley Shacklebolt, with a little more padding about the midriff than Hermione had remembered; Dedalus Diggle, hatless; Mad-Eye Moody, his magical blue eye spinning erratically; Hestia Jones, looking a bit overwhelmed; Sturgis Podmore, already with several empty Butterbeer bottles on the table before him. And then a lineup of redheads: Molly; Arthur; Bill, his disfigured face stretched in a broad grin; Ginny, who had matured into a stunning young woman; and Ron.

As soon as he set eyes on Hermione, Ron got up and climbed over the table, causing Sturgis to yelp as several of his Butterbeer bottles toppled into his lap.

"Hermione," Ron said gruffly when he was finally standing before her, and threw his arms fiercely around her. The familiar Ron smell filled her nostrils, and she got all choked up. She hugged him back, tightly, and the din around them disappeared for a glorious moment; it was just the two of them, clinging to each other for security and warmth and love. There was still love. There would always be. Then they pulled apart and Ron kissed her on the cheek. "I'm glad you made it," he said, then looked her over head to foot. "You look scrumptious!" he added with a twinkle in his eye.

"Thanks," she said, slightly embarrassed, giving him a final affectionate squeeze before relinquishing her hold.

"Well come on and sit down." Ron led her and Remus around to the other side of the table. "Budge up there, Ginny."

Hermione greeted everyone as she went around the table, shaking hands here and kissing cheeks there. Luna and Neville, Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom, had been hidden on the other side of Hagrid, but she was no less pleased to see them than she had been to see Ron. She and Ron had been best man and maid of honour at their wedding, and she was glad that they, at least, had found their way to each other and been able to build a life together.

Remus took a seat on the long bench beside Arthur, leaving room next to him for Hermione to sit next to Ron. Just as she was about to swing her leg over the wooden plank, she caught sight of a black figure standing in the corner. It was Severus, and he was watching her with a scowl on his face.

"Look," she said, nudging Remus. "He did come."

Remus looked in the direction she indicated. "So, so." He nodded. "Seems to be a bit of a wall flower, though. Shall I--?"

"No, I'll do it," Hermione said grimly. Honestly, it was like pulling teeth. And she should know, as the daughter of two dentists.

"What's up with that?" Ron asked Remus, seeing Hermione on her way over to Snape.

Remus sighed. "It seems that Hermione has taken it upon herself to see to it that Severus is fully integrated into society life."

"Huh?"

"She's got her mind set on making friends with him," Remus clarified.

"Friends? With Snape?" Ron was obviously having a difficult time correlating those two terms with each other. "I didn't think 'friends' was a word that was even in Snape's vocabulary."

Remus shrugged. "You know Hermione. When she gets her teeth into a project..."

"Yeah, I'll say." Ron grinned. "She's like a bulldog."

"Yes," Remus agreed. "Only...I can't help being...well, wary of the outcome."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, Ron, that's just the old man in me talking." Remus shrugged apologetically. "Just wishing and wondering."

"You're losing me."

"Never mind. Say, what does a fellow have to do to get a Butterbeer around here?"

xOxOxOx

It was a mistake for me to come. Look at them all, carousing and laughing. Have they forgotten the events that brought them all together in the first place? Is this their way of commemorating murder?

"Severus." Hermione had planted herself before him, her fists on her hips.

"Professor," he answered coldly, staring at a point in the distance.

"You've made it this far. Is it too much trouble to take the last few steps to the table?"

"Aside from the fact that this is not my idea of an appropriate commemoration of the war which brought us all together, there do not seem to be any vacant seats. I am content to view the proceedings from here."

I'll bet you are, Hermione thought to herself. So you can make a getaway when you think no one's looking. "We're here to celebrate life, Severus, not death!" she said aloud. "Although if you want to, you could probably make an appropriately gloomy toast at some point. Come on, I'll Extendo the bench if we need to," she promised, in blatant disregard of the hand-lettered sign on the wall which read 'No Extendoing the furniture! -- Mgmt.' She grabbed his hand and towed him back to the table.

He briefly attempted to pull his hand away, but that only caused her to grip his more firmly, not even letting go when they were standing beside the table. He found it embarrassing to be pulled along like a recalcitrant child, but took pleasure in noting the look in Remus's eye when the werewolf saw how Hermione was holding on to Snape.

Jealous, Moony? Yes, look at how I am touching your lover. Revel in the knowledge of my corrupted flesh caressing her soft white skin.

Remus glanced up at Snape's face just at that moment and saw a look of taunting scorn. Startled and confused, Remus quickly looked away.

Not even going to fight for her, Moony? How terribly dull.

Hermione, meanwhile, had gotten Arthur to move around to the other side of the table next to Molly and Bill, leaving a space free at the end of the bench. She slid in next to Ron and scooted over as far as she could, pulling Severus down next to her. As he was now on the edge of the bench, he had no choice but to sit pressed against her, leg to leg and shoulder to shoulder. He hoped Remus was taking note of that fact.

"Nice of you to join us, Severus," Arthur said amiably, holding out his hand.

"Arthur," Severus said, reaching across the table to shake the other wizard's hand.

Molly and Bill also offered their greetings.

Remus, now sitting on the far side of Ron, leaned forward to look around him and Hermione. "We thought you'd given us the slip, Severus."

"It wouldn't have been hard," Snape stated, staring straight ahead.

"Nice to see you again, Professor," Ron said. "How're things at Hogwarts?"

"Tedious to the point of insanity."

"Ah, so nothing's changed, eh?" Ron said with a grin.

Not a muscle in Snape's face moved. "No."

Bill laughed heartily. "Do you know, I don't think I ever appreciated your sense of humour when I was a student, Snape. It's wicked, though!"

Snape fixed Bill with a withering look. "If I had known I would be surrounded by werewolves, I would have chosen other seating arrangements," he said coldly.

"Really, Severus," Molly scolded indignantly.

Bill's scarred countenance hardened."That can be arranged, Snape."

"He's not even a real werewolf," Ron retorted. "He's just a carrier."

"How pleasant for him," Snape sneered, still keeping his eyes fixed on Bill.

"Who invited him, anyway?" Hermione could hear Ginny muttering from farther down the table.

Not going well, not going well at all, Hermione fretted. "Severus!" she exclaimed. "You don't even have a drink yet! Butterbeer?" She grabbed the nearest bottle and held it out to him.

"Oi! That's mine!" Ron protested.

"Never fear, Weasley," Snape said scornfully, "I wouldn't touch that sickly stuff even if you hadn't slobbered all over it already."

Hermione plastered a grin onto her face and made to stand up. "Well, I'm going to get myself a mulled cider. Anyone else?" She looked around brightly, but everyone on their end of the table was scowling and avoiding looking at each other. "That'll be a no, then," she said in an unnaturally high voice.

"Wait, Hermione, I'll get it for you," Remus offered, clambering out from where he was squeezed between Ron and Ginny. "Severus? Can I get something for you while I'm up?" he offered.

"I will conjure my own beverage," Snape answered, again in blatant disregard of another sign which read 'No self-conjured food or drinks! Violators will be hexed! -- Mgmt.'

Hermione sat back down, squeezing her hips in between Snape and Ron again. She noticed that Ron moved over a bit to make room, but Severus remained firmly where he was. Of course, if he moved over, he'd fall right off the bench. She could feel both of their thighs against hers. Ron's was relaxed and heavy, and Hermione could tell that he had put on some muscle in the last couple of years. She recalled the rough feeling of the reddish hairs there under her fingers, and wondered whether he had another girlfriend. On the other side, she felt Snape's leg, long and taut, and wondered what it felt like. This thought was accompanied by a familiar butterfly feeling in her stomach. She instantly shoved her thoughts in another direction, as she had several times over the past week. This was Snape, for goodness' sake! Taking an interest in him was one thing, but getting excited by thoughts of him was quite another.

In the meantime, Snape had produced his wand and conjured himself a cup of tea, under the dirty looks of Molly, Bill, and Ron. Hermione couldn't see Ginny, but she felt certain that she was also shooting Snape a similar look, and possibly considering whether to enact a form of vigilante justice and hex Snape on behalf of the proprietors.

"So, Bill," Hermione said cheerfully, in an attempt to steer the focus away from the man on her left, "how's Fleur?"

"Fine," he grumbled, still put out by Snape's presence.

"Yes, she's expecting their second child in May," Molly added proudly. "Jack just turned two, he's the cleverest little thing you ever saw, talks up a storm...Not that any of it's English," she added, frowning.

"It's Jacques, Mom," Bill sighed, giving the name a proper French pronunciation. "And you know we thought it was important for him to grow up bilingual."

"Bilingual, yes, but so far it's 'non' this and 'je veux' that, and he doesn't even say Grandma!" she complained to Hermione. "Calls me Grand-mère. Grand-mère! I ask you, do I look like a Grand-mère? Makes me sound like a horse!" she finished huffily.

"Better than Grand-père," Arthur teased. "I always feel like a fruit bowl." He winked at Hermione.

Hermione laughed, and by the time Remus returned with their drinks, everyone was chatting pleasantly again, Snape all but forgotten in the corner. By all but Hermione. She was very much aware of his body next to hers, of every move he made. She spent most of the evening talking to Ron, but there was always a part of her brain that was keeping track of Severus, how he sometimes shifted his weight so that he was pressing against her gently, then away again, how he would lean forward against the table, causing his leg to rub ever so slightly against hers, how he moved his foot once and ended up with his calf resting against hers, but rather than moving it away again immediately, let it rest there for a minute or so before slowly repositioning it.

She found herself mesmerized by this strange, slow, silent dance and after a while began to participate in it, trying to figure out the rules. When Ron said something funny, she leaned toward him and laughed, then, when returning her body to its former position, purposely leaned a little farther back until she was putting gentle pressure on Severus. When she reached across the table to take the snapshots of Jacques from Molly, she made sure that her arm brushed against Severus's. And when his calf ended up against hers, she didn't move away. And was disappointed when he did.

After a while, generous servings of alcohol moved some of the gathered company to stronger emotions, and toasts began to be offered. Mad-Eye started off with a furtive "May we all be alive this time next year," then hunched back down over the flask he'd been nursing all evening, as if afraid that someone would try to spike it. Sturgis Podmore followed up with, "Here's to you and here's to me; may we never disagree. But if we do, then fuck you. And here's to me." Upon which he belched loudly and fell off the bench to a scattered round of applause. Minerva stood up and recited clearly,

"Weel may we a' be, ill may we ne'er see;
Here's to the Queen and the gude companie.
Here's a health to them that's away,

Here's a health to them that were here shortsyne,
An, canna be here today."

There was a general murmur of assent as she re-took her seat. Next to her was Hagrid, who was already blubbering into his mauve handkerchief. He hastily blew his nose, then pushed the bench back, nearly toppling everyone off, and stood up. His head bumped against the ring chandelier hanging from the ceiling, but he didn't even bother swatting it away, just let it rest on the side of his head like a lopsided crown.

"I'd jus' like ter say," he began, surveying his audience with swollen red eyes, "what an honour it was fer me ter serve th' Order with all of yeh fine wizards an' witches. An' the finest one of all was Dumbledore." He shook his huge shaggy head and cleared his throat with a great hacking cough. "Without him, none of us'd be here today. An' now here we all are, an'-- an' he's dead!"

Hermione glanced at the table where Hagrid had been sitting and noted that it was littered with a good dozen empty tankards of mulled mead. Hagrid on a bender. Not conducive to the general peace.

Hagrid raised his head and looked around the room with a wild glint in his eye. "An' we all know why he ain't here! He would of still bin here if it weren't fer him," Hagrid shouted, pointing at Snape.

"Hagrid," Minerva said gently but no less urgently, placing a hand on his massive arm, "Albus's work was all but done. The prophecy said that Harry had to be the one to defeat You-Know-Who."

"Mebbe so, but Harry wouldn't of died if'n Dumbledore'd been there ter back 'im up!"

"We don't know that, Hagrid," Minerva said.

"Yeh killed 'im!" he roared, jabbing a thick, stubby finger violently in Snape's direction. "Yeh killed 'im in cold blood! An' yeh've got Harry on yer conscience as well, if yeh've got one of those, which I doubt!"

All eyes turned to Snape. Hermione had felt him stiffen beside her upon Hagrid's first singling him out.

He slowly stood, drawing himself to his full and not unimpressive height. His jaw clenched, he hissed, "Albus Dumbledore was a fool."

"You take that back!" Hagrid roared. Bill and Ron half stood up, too, but they were pulled back down by Molly and Hermione, respectively.

"Look at what he brought together," Snape spat out, sneering at the company. "The cream of the wizarding world," he said derisively. "A bunch of half-witted, drunken, self-congratulatory bumblers whose only claim to fame is that they defeated an even more pathetic bunch of bumblers, more by happenstance than by any real skill on their part. I came here out of respect for that old fool, which was pure irrational sentimentality on my part, but now I am sure you will all be relieved to know that I disassociate myself from you completely and forevermore!"

And with an ear-splitting crack, he was gone. There was a short, stunned silence. Then before anyone else could say anything, Hermione stood up, too, her face ashen white, and addressed everyone. "We all made mistakes," she said, her voice strained. "We all tried to do what we thought was right. I'm sorry." Then she looked directly at Hagrid. "I was supposed to be covering Harry," she whispered hoarsely, before she, too, Disapparated.

xOxOxOx

It was below freezing when she re-Apparated outside of Hogwarts. The air was hard and stung her nose. She didn't see Severus, but she thought she could make out a trail of footprints in the snow heading towards Hogwarts. She ran as fast as she could, but her lungs refused to allow the frigid air entry, so that she was soon gasping for breath. She slowed down and held her arm up over her mouth, breathing into her elbow, to try and get warmer air into her body. Up ahead, then, a black shadow moving over the white snow, she saw Severus. She would never catch up to him! He would be down in his chambers, safe behind his walls, before she could reach him. She ran a few more meters, then took out her wand, aimed at a spot just ahead of him, and shouted, "Munio Vigoris!"

Instantly, a blue beam jumped out of her wand and flew to the point she had intended (she always had had very good aim), where it seemed to unfold itself left and right, extending several meters in both directions and forming a glowing blue wall between Severus and the castle.

He instantly dropped to the ground and rolled to the side, and Hermione knew even though she couldn't see that he would have his wand out, expecting an attack, but she didn't care. Heedless, she ran as quickly as she could toward him, calling out, "Severus, wait!" She knew she didn't have more than about a minute before he either made it around the barrier, or the magic expired.

"It's me!" she cried, now close enough to see by the electric blue glow the fifteen inch ebony stick trained on her. She half expected him to Expelliarmus her again, but instead he lay there in the snow, watching her from behind half a curtain of black hair, and she stopped three meters away, panting heavily.

"I wanted-- They were wrong," she gasped, shaking her head. "Harry-- It's not your fault." She dropped to her knees and put her hands on her thighs, leaning forward to get blood and oxygen to her head. She could feel her face throbbing with each heartbeat. The snow soaked through her skirt, making her knees cold and wet.

Severus sat up and crouched where he was, watching Hermione guardedly.

She lifted her head enough to look at him, and she saw that he was frowning. What was it? Anger? Concern? Before she could study his expression further, the magical wall suddenly flickered out, and they were left in momentary darkness while their eyes adjusted to the ambient light once again. While they waited, Hermione's breathing slowed, and she was able to stand again. She perceived that Snape did as well.

"That was a spectacularly poor idea, for me to attend this evening," he snarled finally, breaking the silence.

That hit its mark. Once again, she had inadvertently caused him acute embarrassment. But something else had happened as well, it occurred to her. She gathered up her courage and said in a low voice, "I actually thought it was going very well." Her heart rate increased again, but this time it had nothing to do with physical exertion.

Snape seemed taken aback by this statement; at least, his response came only after a moment's hesitation. "Ah yes, now I understand," he spat out bitterly. "Do you know, I actually believed that you were sincere in your misguided Gryffindor attempts at magnanimity, but that wasn't it at all, was it?" He advanced on her, his wand still drawn. "You dragged me along tonight knowing that it was unavoidable that someone would take me to task!" He was now within an arm's length of her, and he looked very put out.

"No!" Hermione said urgently, and she reached out and grabbed his elevated wand hand, enveloping his fist with her fingers. "No," she whispered. "I didn't mean that. I meant before. You sitting with us." She swallowed over a dry throat. "Next to me." She watched his face, and his anger seemed to falter, mixed now with confusion. She pulled his hand down and took a step closer to him. "Severus...?"

His face suddenly became hard again. "You're playing with fire, Hermione," he said in a deep, silky tone that caused a thrill to run from her throat through her chest to the pit of her stomach. It was the first time that he had used her given name.

"I'm a big girl now," she challenged him. "And maybe I've had enough of being cold." She raised her chin, tilting her face up in a gesture that was both defiant and inviting.

Severus took in the dark eyes, the smooth skin reddened by cold, the full lips slightly parted, and felt a stirring in his groin, the beginnings of an ache in his heart. Immediately, he clamped down his mind, threw up the black barrier between his inner self and his outward persona. This was how he had managed to shield his true loyalty from Voldemort. This was how he had become so alone.

"You want to know what my embrace is?" he whispered, cold and detached, and leaned over, pressing his lips flatly against hers, his hands now gripping her upper arms, clenched tight. There was no emotion in that kiss, other than spite; it was ugly, meant to be ugly and hurtful.

Hermione didn't flinch away, just stood impassively; this was a demonstration, as the Expelliarmus had been, a test. When he lifted his head, she breathed again, soft puffs that floated into the space between them, and said, "That was a Death Eater's embrace. Now give me Severus."

I cannot, I don't know who that is, he is buried, he is weak, he is...vulnerable...

Without taking her eyes from his, Hermione slid her hands up his arms, damp from the snow, one hand curling over his shoulder, one hand onto his neck, cold fingers on warm skin, up into his hair, slick strands sliding between her fingers, eyes now cast downward toward his lips, pressure bringing his face close to hers again, warm breath mixing with warm breath, lips parted, not touching, close enough to feel the tickle of the other's, one...two...three...her lower lip brushing his, just a whisper, another tentative touch, his hands releasing her arms and sliding across her back, another breath, a feather-light kiss, lingering for a moment then pulling back, not relinquishing the conctact, heart pounding, chemical signals zinging along nerves, bundling in her womb, sending blood coursing through him, making him ready, another kiss, sensitive skin against sensitive skin, now giving, now taking, hands pressing bodies, bodies pressing together, a thrill. An awakening.

xOxOxOx

"Remus, what on earth are you doing standing there?" Minerva exclaimed as she and Hagrid approached the grounds, the half-giant stumbling along groggily, the witch doing her level best to keep him headed in the right direction.

"Shhh," Remus hushed her, nodding toward the castle.

"What is it?" Minerva said, peering into the darkness.

"Hermione and Severus," he explained softly. "I don't want them to see me."

"Whyever not?" she asked, irritated. "What's he-- What are they doing?" At this distance, it was hard to make out more than the fact that there were two figures standing close together in relief against the white ground.

"I believe they are kissing."

"You believe-- What?" Minerva looked round-eyed at Remus, then squinted in the direction of Hermione and Severus again.

Remus sighed. "I can't say that I didn't see it coming. I just hoped... Well," he finished sadly.

Minerva appraised the wizard with a keen eye, then nodded. "I see. Remus, I do hope she knows what a friend she has in you," she said sincerely.

Remus nodded, too, wistfully. "Story of my life."

"I'm sleepy, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid complained, and his eyes were in fact drooping low.

"Yes, yes, Hagrid, we'll get you right off to bed," she said briskly to him, then to Remus, "I will advise them to move it inside. I wouldn't want you to have to spend the night outside for their sake." And with that, she and Hagrid set into motion again, moving in the general direction of the castle.

xOxOxOx

"We have company."

Hermione turned and looked over her shoulder and saw the unmistakable form of Hagrid lurching unevenly toward them. After a moment, she also made out the silhouette of Minerva's hat bobbing along in front of him at about the level of his chest. She took a step away from Severus, dropping her hands to her sides.

"Good evening, Hermione, Severus," McGonagall called out. "Don't mind me, just getting Hagrid here off to bed. You two should be getting inside, you know, you'll catch your deaths!" They veered off to the right, where the gamekeeper's hut stood at the edge of the Forest.

"Wuzzat Hermione?" they heard Hagrid asking thickly, then, "Night, Hermione!" he shouted.

"Good night, Hagrid!" she called back. Then she turned back to Severus. "I suppose the others will be coming soon as well." Should she invite him to come up to her room?

"Yes." And his features became hard once again as a realization hit him.

The others. Moony. She has been carrying on with the wolf. She is just playing some game here, satisfying her perverse curiosity. Getting me to give in to her wiles, show weakness, so that she and her lover can laugh over me. What a fool I have been!

"I hope you and your werewolf have enough fodder for your sick fantasies now," he said scathingly, turned, and walked toward the castle.

"What? Wait, Severus--" She ran to catch up with him, grabbed his arm, but he shook her hand off.

"Haven't you toyed with me enough?" he shouted.

"What do you mean?" she begged, feelings of confusion and hurt welling up, and anger, too. Who was toying with whom? You didn't just kiss someone like that--and there had been something there, something real, of that she was certain--and then turn around and toss out crazy, hurtful accusations.

He flung open the great oaken doors and turned right to go downstairs.

"Severus, you will not run away from me again!" she shouted, her voice echoing shrilly in the empty hall.

He wheeled around and faced her, his expression full of rage and contempt. "What are you going to do?" he snarled. "Immobilize me? Bind me? Stun me? You and I both know that your powers are nothing compared to mine."

"I would never use force, especially magical force, against you," she said, trying to keep her voice even, "and not because I think you're stronger, but because that's a weakling's response. But you, you've already demonstrated that you can attack me at will, that you're a big, bad Death Eater. Well, damn you to the nine hells, Severus Snape!" she screamed, losing her temper. "Do you think you're the only one who suffered at the hands of Voldemort? Do you think you're the only one whose life was destroyed? At least you're alive! At least you have another chance! And look what you're making of it! Skulking about some dreary castle in a godforsaken corner of the world, making everyone's life miserable who dares cross your path. Guess what: It's over! For god's sake, Severus, it's over! We won! The good guys won! And you're a good guy!"

"You don't know what you're saying, Hermione," Snape seethed through gritted teeth. I'm not a good guy! He wanted to shake her, to slap her, to stop her from uttering another one of those jagged words that were cutting through the last vestiges of his civilized self--

But Hermione was beyond listening. "What do you think any of Voldemort's victims would have given to be in your position right now?" she screamed at him. "What do you think Harry would have given?" She sobbed freely now, her nose running from the cold and from her outburst, her hair flying wildly around her head as if under the effect of an electrical field. "You know what? Life sucks! I hate that I'm alive and Harry isn't! And you hate that you're alive and Albus isn't! But you know what else? Life is also wonderful! What do you think that was that went on between us out there? That was life! It was exciting and intoxicating and brilliant and I want more!"

Gods help me, so do I, for one moment I believed that those feelings were real. But it has all just been an experiment, a farce.

"You think I want Remus's leftovers?" he sneered

"What are you talking about?"

"Your werewolf lover!"

Hermione was shocked. "What--? Me and Remus? That's ridiculous, there's nothing between us!"

"Don't lie to me! I've seen the way you touch each other, the way he fawns over you. It's obvious!"

"The only thing that's obvious is that you're not a very good judge of people. I've never so much as kissed him, nor have I had any desire to! Remus is a friend, nothing less, nothing more. I had thought maybe you and I could be friends, too--" She cut herself off before adding 'and more'. She had obviously blown any chance there was of that.

"Had you," he said coldly. "Well now you see what a poor judge of people you are." And with that, he whipped around, his heavy cloak swishing through the air, and retreated down the stairs.

xOxOxOx

"I'm sorry, Remus," Minerva said, and her face looked stricken at what they had heard through the doors.

Remus shrugged. "It's nothing I didn't know, or suspect, already. Still..."

"Still, she obviously considers you a good friend, and that is something rare these days."

Remus nodded, looking at the toes of his scuffed boots.

After a minute, Minerva said, "I believe they have both left. Shall we?" She placed her hand on the handle and opened the door.

xOxOxOx

In the gamekeeper's hut, a half a mountain snored under a pile of skins.

In the Headmistress's office, an elderly witch sat before the fire, her feet propped up, dozing.

In the Head of Gryffindor's room, a weary werewolf climbed into bed. Alone. Again. Always.

In another room in Gryffindor tower, a young professor cried for shame, anger, and loss.

In the dungeons, a former Death Eater was on his knees, his head against the bare stone floor, surrounded by broken objects. And cried.