Survivors

CHAPTER 20

Dignity and Pain

As soon as they were standing free, Remus Apparated them to the gates of Hogwarts. There, Snape snarled and wrenched himself out of Remus's grip.

"I am perfectly capable of making it back to my quarters on my own!" He began to walk across the moonlit grounds with as much dignity as he could, given the fact that the boils were chafing painfully.

"Oh no you don't, I'm taking you to Madam Pomfrey," Remus insisted, catching up with him but staying on the downwind side.

"I have a salve that will take care of the skin problem, and the stench will wear off on its own. I welcome it, in fact; it will keep troublemakers like you at a distance!"

"And...the other problem?" Remus inquired tactfully.

"I have no desire to allow Poppy to poke around at my privates!" he snapped.

And anyway, it's not as if I will have any further opportunities to use them. It is, I must admit, a just punishment.

Remus shrugged. "Wear your hair shirt if you wish."

"I hope it is clear to you that if you should ever attempt to manipulate me in a manner like that again, you'll wish you had walked into a den full of bloodthirsty werewolves."

"You did hurt her, you know," Remus said after a bit.

"It does look terrible," Snape growled, referring to Hermione's hair.

"I don't just mean that; she's been acting odd for the past couple of weeks."

Since that night in my quarters... "Sod off," Snape snapped. She knew what she was getting herself into.

"What I don't understand is," Remus continued conversationally, "are you trying to punish her, or yourself?"

Snape stopped walking and turned on Remus, his face a quarter profile of paleness in the shadows. "What makes you think that there is any punishment involved? Could it not simply be that she deluded herself into the belief that I was a decent human being and that discovering the truth was an unpleasant but necessary shock to her system?" This is the very spot where she conjured the wall of light to stop me that night...the very spot she put those ideas into my head. Snape shivered.

"And what is the truth?"

"Didn't you hear Miss Weasley?" Snape taunted. "I am a heartless, cruel bastard."

"We all knew that before," Remus scoffed. "Hermione was able to see beyond that. Something must have happened."

"You want to know what I did? I fucked her, Moony! I used her body for my pleasure, and then I told her to get lost."

Remus became very still. "You sodding bastard."

Snape nodded shortly. "As I said, Miss Weasley got it right in one." He continued hobbling toward the castle, in real pain now.

Remus grabbed his arm and wrenched him around, forcing the point of his wand into Snape's throat. "Did you force her?" he asked, low and threatening. "Did you use any kind of physical or magical coercion on her? Because if you did, my friend, you're going to be the one wishing those were werewolves there tonight."

Snape laughed once, a harsh, cruel sound. "No. She offered herself to me. She wanted me, and I gave her what she asked for," he taunted. "I believe she even enjoyed it. Up to a point," he added in a low mutter. Her delighted smile when I led her to the bedroom, her soft moans of pleasure when I touched her...And then her tentative touch on my back when I turned away, her sudden stillness.

Remus hesitated, still keeping his wand trained on Snape. "And then?"

Snape spat the words back at Remus: "And then! And then! And then I was done with her!" He swatted Lupin's wand away and turned stiffly back toward the castle.

Remus dogged his steps, pursuing him with bitter words. "Did you find her lacking, then? Did you tire of her so quickly?"

Tire of her? Never in a thousand years.

They had nearly reached the castle. Instead of going up the stone steps to the main entrance, however, Snape veered to the right and followed a narrow path, almost invisible in the shadow of the castle wall, which led directly to the dungeons.

"Yes, Lupin, I tired of her. You can have her," Snape sneered over his shoulder.

"You filthy bastard. Why are you so callous?"

Snape walked several metres further before pausing to say, quietly, "It's all I know how to do." He sounded suddenly weary. When he reached the dungeon entrance, he waved his wand and spoke the words to release the magical locks.

Remus caught up with him and put his hand across the door, blocking Snape from entering. "And if you knew how to do it differently? What then?" He spoke calmly now, almost sympathetically.

Snape looked at Remus, one eye almost swollen closed with a huge boil. "I would never let her go," he rasped.

...xOxOxOx...

"Hermione, forget what he said! He doesn't know what he's talking about." Ginny had tracked Hermione down to the ladies' toilets, where Hermione had taken a page out of Moaning Myrtle's book of tricks and caused a minor flood in order to clear the room of other patrons. Hermione was now sitting cross-legged on a toilet seat, while Ginny was standing in front of her, having cast a Bubble-Foot Charm on herself in order to spare her suede boots.

"I don't care what he thinks," Hermione said through her red and swollen nose.

"Good."

"It's just that he always manages to make me look stupid."

"He didn't make you look stupid, he made himself look stupid. And I made him look even stupider." Ginny grinned broadly.

"Oh, Ginny, you shouldn't have. Now he'll hate me even more," Hermone moaned.

"First of all, it was me who hexed him, not you, so if anything he should hate me. And secondly, how could he hate you more? I mean, no offense," she quickly backtracked, seeing Hermione's hurt expression, "but he always hated all of us: anyone who was either Gryffindor or a friend of Harry's, and you were both the top student in Gryffindor and Harry's best friend. You must have been right up at the top of his list."

Hermione was silent for a moment, trying to decide how much to tell Ginny. She'd never be as understanding as Ron, but maybe she could tell her part of it. "Things have been different since I've been teaching," she began slowly. "I found some stuff out about him."

"Like what?"

"Like what happened that night on the Astronomy Tower...you know, when Dumbledore was killed. It wasn't what we thought." She proceeded to outline what she had found out.

When she had finished, Ginny looked skeptical. "So you think he's really a good guy?"

"He is," Hermione insisted. "In the sense of morality and ethics, anyway. In the sense of interpersonal relations, I admit it, he's a bastard." She hid her head in her hands, her fingers rubbing at the unfamiliar sensation of her shorn locks.

"I'm glad you at least see that part clearly. So is that what you meant when you said you were interested in him? That you saw his good side?"

Hermione looked back up at Ginny. "Yes and no. I always felt that he must have a good side. I mean, Dumbledore always defended him, so there must have been something there. I guess I agreed with what Remus said once: he trusted Dumbledore's judgment, and that's why he trusted Severus. That's why I started looking into Dumbledore's death in the first place. And then as I found out more about Severus's past, and about him, he became more than just a... I don't know, it's like he wasn't just fulfilling roles anymore: he wasn't just the Greasy Git, or the Potions Master, or a Death Eater, or Dumbledore's murderer, or Voldemort's betrayer. He became a person: Severus. I saw his suffering, and his power, and his weaknesses, and his strengths. He became human to me. And I...liked him." She finished with a slightly embarrassed shrug.

"But he didn't like you."

"Well, I think he did," Hermone hedged, "a little, maybe more, but something happened and he pushed me away."

"What happened?"

"I don't know exactly," Hermione said carefully. She wasn't ready to share the extent of her intimacy, and humiliation, with Ginny. "Maybe he felt I was getting too close." Now that she thought about it, that might very well have been the main reason.

"I think you should forget about him. There are much better guys out there."

"Like your brother?" Hermione managed a grin.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Please. Mum's the only one who's still hoping for a wedding out of you two."

Hermione sighed. "Poor Molly. I think it broke her heart more than mine or Ron's when we broke up."

"And it'd absolutely kill her if she knew you were considering You-Know-- I mean, Snape, over Ron now."

"It's not a choice of one over the other," Hermione reminded her.

"That's not what I meant. But...you're not still seriously considering him, are you?"

"It's not really up to me anymore, Ginny. There's nothing more I can do. Nothing more I'm willing to do." She'd given it a good shot, given him plenty of chances.

"But...what if he suddenly decided he did fancy you?"

"That's not likely to happen, now is it." Hermione didn't even want to let herself consider it. It would only drive her crazy. Again. She reached out a hand to Ginny. "Come on, we'd better get back to the game. I'll never hear the end of it if Dougal scores and I've missed it."

...xOxOxOx...

"I could never make her happy, Lupin. I hurt her and used her." Snape leaned carefully back in his leather armchair before the fire. He was wearing a dressing gown, and his bare arms and legs sticking out were covered with a white paste, as was his face.

Remus scooted the chair he'd taken from the work table closer, but not too close. Snape still stank. "You hurt her by using her. There's a difference."

Snape scowled. "I don't know how to do anything else."

"You're afraid to try."

"She's better off without me," he replied irritably. "Why that isn't clear to everyone is beyond my considerable powers of reason."

"That's very noble of you, of course," Remus conceded. "I was also noble once. I knew that Nymphadora was in love with me. Wanted to bear my children, etcetera, etcetera." He waved one hand in the air with a dismissive flourish. "All that tedious female nonsense. She was obviously too good for me, though. Young, beautiful, promising career in the Auror Department. I didn't want to saddle her with an aging, impoverished werewolf. So I did the noble thing. Turned her away, broke her heart. How was I to know she'd die in the War? She could at least have died happy, knowing that she was loved. Hell, I could have at least had a year or two of happiness for that matter, the only shot I ever had at it in this life." His brisk tone changed to one of melancholy. "Who knows; if there'd been an 'us', maybe she would've been a little more careful...But, that is speculation for another time. The point here is, that Hermione is at the very least, fond of you. Or she was, before you so spectacularly blew it. Merlin knows why, but there it is, and you are obviously fond of her as well."

"And what makes you so certain of that?" Snape asked coolly.

"Because in all the conversations we have had on this subject lo these many months, never once has the phrase 'I don't care for her' passed your lips."

Snape shrugged. "I don't care for her."

"Liar." Remus grinned. "Now, there is a beautiful, highly intelligent, very brave young witch up there--" He waved his hand toward the upper part of the castle. "--who is willing, even eager, to make a go of it with you. All you have to do is grovel at her feet and beg her forgiveness."

"I can't do that."

"Of course you can. And you will."

"What am I supposed to say, 'I'm sorry I'm such a bastard?'"

"That'd be good for a start."

"I can't apologize for who I am, Lupin! This is me, if she doesn't like it, she should turn her attentions elsewhere, as I told her!"

"Yes..." Remus considered. "I suppose you're right. But that doesn't give you the right to be rude to everyone. And especially not to walk all over someone whom you supposedly care for."

Snape was silent for a moment, gazing into the fire. Then he murmured, "She once told me, the only thing she expected of me was that I respect her."

"I think that's a fair start."

...xOxOxOx...

"Severus." Hermione stood in her doorway, suddenly at a loss for words. She'd never expected him to call on her again. His face was marked with dull brown blotches where the boils were healing. Beyond that, he looked tired.

I cannot do this. I will be giving her too much power over me. She will humiliate me, laugh in my face.

"Hermione," he said stiffly.

They stood like that, awkwardly staring at each other. Hermione reached up and smoothed down the hair at the back of her neck. She wasn't sure whether she should still be angry at him because of the hair remark from the previous evening, or whether she should indicate through cool detachment that she didn't consider him important enough to get upset over, or, alternatively, whether she should try and give him a guilt trip for being such a bastard.

"Erm...yes?" she said.

"Might I...come in?" His tone was quite neutral.

Now it was Hermione's turn to become stiff. Detachment seemed to be the way to go. "I don't think that would serve any useful purpose." As if he thought he would be able to enter and woo her as before!

Three Gryffindor students passed by on their way to their dorms. They glanced curiously at the infamous instructor standing outside of Professor Granger's private quarters, but quickly scurried away under his glare.

"I do not wish to make a public scene," he said through his teeth, once the teens had passed through the portrait hole to their common room. And then he did something unusual. He added, "Please."

Hermione still hesitated, indecisive. "What do you want?"

She is afraid of being alone with me. I can't blame her. This much destruction of her trust have I wrought already.

"Just to talk," he said.

Hermione acquiesced with a short nod and stood back to allow him to enter. Once he was inside, she closed the door, but remained standing beside it and did not offer him a seat.

Snape regarded the woman before him. The woman he had very nearly made love to. The subdued nighttime lighting cast her face in a soft glow. Her broad forehead was softened by the short locks of hair curling down over it, but the rest of her features now seemed more prominent, sharper, without the distraction of the long hair flying about.

Remus was right. She looks older. And more hardened. Or perhaps that has nothing to do with the hairstyle and everything to do with her experiences with me.

"Well?" she prompted, crossing her arms.

Snape gave himself a mental shove. "I have to apologize for my comments last night. My opinion is of no value and I should not have given it."

Hermione snorted. "Is that supposed to be an apology?"

"Yes," he hissed through his teeth. I knew she'd make it difficult!

"Backhanded fishing for compliments is more like it. Of course your opinions are of value to me!" So much for making him think he wasn't important. "That's why it hurt to hear you say it," she added quietly.

"I didn't mean to hurt you." The words seemed stilted, as if he were having to overcome a great internal barrier to utter them.

"Of course you did! You were angry at being forced to sit next to me, and you wanted to make it clear to me that it hadn't been your choice, and that you didn't want anything to do with me."

Snape's brow furrowed. "Once again, you believe that you know my thoughts and feelings better than I."

"Yes, I think I do. Or at least--" She backtracked, tried a different tack. "Most of the time, I have absolutely no idea what's going on in that crazy head of yours, but you think you're some sort of nothing, an irrevocably lost soul, thoroughly heartless and cruel. But that's not who you are. You didn't Curse Dumbledore, or at least you didn't think you could, you knew you didn't have that hatred in you. You protected Harry, saved his life time and time again, even though you couldn't stand him. You--"

Snape's eyes had taken on a dangerous glint. "How do you know what passed between myself and Albus?" he interrupted her quickly.

Hermione faltered. She realized she had never talked to him about what she had found out. "I-- I saw the trial. The transcript. I talked to his portrait," she started to explain.

"Who gave you the right to do that?" His voice was rising in volume.

Hermione refused to be intimidated by this man. She uncrossed her arms and let them hang down by her sides, her hands loose and ready to reach for her wand. "I did," she said, jutting her chin up at him. "I took the right. You were pleased to let the wizarding world believe you to be a monster, a murderer, and a traitor. I didn't believe that, and I took it upon myself to find the truth."

"And what truth do you believe that you found? You think me noble? You think I spared Albus something? I was a coward!" he snarled. "I betrayed his trust in me! I couldn't even give him the dignity of a quick and painless death, as we had agreed. I had to resort to throwing him off the Tower like some rag doll! Such is my nobility."

"It was an awful, awful choice. You shouldn't have had to make it." Hermione could feel her eyes filling with tears. "It was unfair of him to make you do it." Her hands involuntarily balled into fists.

Snape shook his head vehemently. "Nobody made me do anything. I bear full responsibility for every mistake I have ever made." And my life is full of nothing but mistakes.

"But you can't keep bearing all of them. You have to let them go."

"They are made, they cannot be taken back."

"Some of them maybe can't. But some of them you can, and others you can make up for, and the rest...I guess you just have to forgive yourself for." Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Severus...I forgive you." She opened her eyes, sought out his, and repeated the words, truly meaning them. "I forgive you." For everything. All the insults, debasements, and humiliations.

How dare she have the gall to forgive me! Thinks she can stand in judgment over me, doling out favours like a beneficient patron. Really, this whole haircut thing is being blown way out of proportion. It's not like I... humiliated her. In private and in front of her friends. Or trivialized her work. Or pointed out her shortcomings. Or taunted her over Potter's death. Or let her think that I cared for her, encouraged her feelings, and then stomped all over them in order to nurture my own guilt...and because I was afraid of what was happening to me.

Snape felt a tightness in his throat and swallowed convulsively in an attempt to maintain control.

"Now, can you forgive yourself?" Hermione asked gently.

"I'm not...worthy--" he began.

"Severus, stop it," she cut him off testily. "Of course you're worthy. You're a brilliant wizard, you're loyal and responsible; all right," she admitted, "you're maybe not the most polite man I know, but that's what makes your opinion so valuable, because I know if you ever do say something nice, you really mean it." Like what he'd said about her kissing him. That had been real, she was sure.

"I'm not worthy of you." But now, although outwardly still formal and unrelaxed, there was a deeper meaning in his tone of voice.

Hermione rolled her eyes impatiently, trying not to pay too much attention to the fluttering in her breast. "Fishing for compliments again," she chided, and continued, "I'll decide who's worthy of me. Although, if that's just a roundabout way of you saying you don't like me, you know, in that way, then in this case, I'd much prefer you come right out and say it." Her heart was pounding in her throat, knowing that this was their last chance. His last chance.

"That's not what I meant."

She could barely restrain herself from grinning like a fool. "Oh. I see." She fidgeted with the material of her teaching robes, which she was still wearing. "Well, in that case. Can I offer you a cup of tea?"

Snape inclined his head with a hint of a smile. "That would be quite welcome."

Hermione started toward the cupboard, trying to restrain herself from throwing her arms around him, but as she passed him, he reached out and grabbed her arm. Gently, with a caress of his thumb. Hermione's breath caught and she stopped, looking up at him.

"I will never give you reason to fear again." His eyes searched hers, asking silently for permission, which she willingly gave. The kiss was full of longing, a desire to please, and a desire to be loved, and when Hermione looked into Severus's eyes again, she saw that they were as shiny as her own.

"Uh...wow." Hermione struggled to remember what she'd been about to do. "I guess that means...no tea?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "If you'd like tea...?"

"No. I'd much rather...talk." Hermione ducked her head and took Snape's hand, leading him to the couch, where she pulled him down next to her.

"Severus," she began hesitantly, "what...made you change your mind?"

"Change my mind?"

"Well yes," she laughed lightly, "you made it clear that...after we were together that time...you didn't want to see me anymore, and yesterday you couldn't stand to be near me, and now... Well, I just don't like the feeling of being jerked around like a Pingo-Poingo," she said, referring to the Wizard equivalent of a yoyo.

He looked down at their hands, holding each other, and squeezed hers. "I think once again you mistook my meaning. I was, in a foolish way, trying to protect you from me. I never wanted to hurt you intentionally, but I knew that I had, and that I would continue to do so."

"Why?" And the unspoken question: would he, even now, continue to hurt her?

"So many reasons. I was...fearful of the feelings you stirred in me. Unsure how to control them. Unable to do so. My whole existence, my very life, has depended on control." Don't do magic. Don't cry when Daddy hits Mummy. Ignore the Marauders' taunts. Don't let them know they're hurting you. Keep your thoughts blank. Ignore the screams. Detach yourself from the act. He squeezed her hand harder, harder than he had meant to.

"Severus." Her voice brought him back. Her face was full of concern.

"I lost control," he rasped. "I lost control that...time. I was ashamed."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know...that's how you felt. I thought I'd done something wrong. I think...I think if you'd tell me how you felt sometimes, then I wouldn't misunderstand you."

"It's not easy to put such things into words...especially in certain situations." It was clear that speaking of emotions and intimacy was uncomfortable for him.

Hermione put her palm against his cheek and leaned in to kiss him softly on the lips once, twice. "Does that tell you how I feel?" she whispered.

Snape put his arm around her waist and pulled her body against his while he sought her mouth once again. She parted her lips and he slipped his tongue in between them, finding a welcoming warmth that reminded him of--

Damn. Damn that Weasley titch.

"Hermione," he said, "I think perhaps tonight, we should exercise a certain restraint."

...xOxOxOx...

The light was changing in the room, indicating the start of the day. Although it was still very early, Hermione knew she wasn't going to get any more rest by staying where she was. It was nice to know that they had spent the night in each other's arms, but it was bloody uncomfortable now, having stayed in basically the same position on a narrow couch the entire time. Additionally, she could tell that he was also awake. "Morning," she murmured, tentatively lifting herself off his chest.

"Morning," he replied, testing whether he still had any feeling in his arms.

She turned her face toward him with a wry smile. "Sleep well?"

"No. You?"

Hermione grimaced, but with amusement. "Not a wink."

Snape frowned and carefully extricated himself from underneath her. He sat on the edge of the couch and did up the top three buttons of his shirt.

Hermione crouched behind him and slid her hands around to his front, feeling his stomach and chest underneath the cotton.

"I'm glad you stayed," she murmured into his shoulder blade, kissing it through the fabric.

Snape grunted. "Next time, perhaps we could find a more comfortable arrangement."

After I've visited Poppy. Or, on second thought, I'll take the afternoon off and pay a call on the Healers at St Mungo's. The thought of having to look her in the face after she's examined my problem. No. Definitely St Mungo's.

"I think I might have a couple of ideas on that." She smiled and rubbed her forehead against his back. "Does this mean that you're not going to change your mind again?"

"I might very well if I have to spend the night on your couch again."

"Are you always this grumpy in the morning?" Hermione pouted.

"Yes," he replied brusquely, at the same time realizing how churlish that sounded. Then, remembering the lesson from the previous night, he twisted around enough to get his arms around Hermione and kissed her on the cheek, on the corner of her jaw below her ear, on her neck, and finally at the base of her throat.

"Oh good," she sighed in delight.

...xOxOxOx...

"Morning, Reem." Angelina bounded up onto the platform with the Staff Table, where most of the teachers were already well into their breakfast of kippers and sausages. "Hermione skipping breakfast again?" she noted with a cluck of her tongue. "Girl's going to make herself sick." She poured an enormous number of sausages onto her plate.

"Hmm," Remus agreed. "I'll make sure she comes in for lunch."

"She's probably still pissed that you brought the Evil Bat along. You ruined her whole evening, you know. Never mind the rest of us."

Remus sighed. "He isn't evil. He has just as much right as the rest of us to enjoy an evening out. Although, I agree, perhaps I didn't exercise the best judgment this time."

"Damn straight," she said around a mouthful of sausage.

The door from the staff corridor opened behind them, and they both turned to see Hermione enter, looking not at all well-rested. She yawned hugely and plopped down between Remus and Angelina, then sat there blinking.

Remus frowned. "Coffee?" he offered, levitating the pot toward Hermione. She nodded absent-mindedly and pushed her cup a fraction of an inch forward.

"Hermione?" Angelina leaned forward to examine her friend's face. "Are you sick?"

Hermone shook her head, the start of a smile at the corner of her lips.

"Bad night?"

Her lips twitched a little more. "No."

"What, then?"

Hermione picked up her cup, now full of steaming hot coffee. "Severus," she said.

Angelina was immediately on alert. "Snape? What did he do now?"

Hermione grinned. "He snogged me senseless."