Zephyr

Zephyr

The Mistake

The bright rays of the early sun crept subtly through the thin curtains, filling the room with fresh morning light. The soft drippings of last night's rainstorm could still be heard outside with the gentle rustling of nearby trees. On the narrow iron-framed bed, Hermione stirred in her sleep whilst her dreams dissipated upon awakening. When her eyes opened she had completely forgotten what she dreamt about, although it must have been a good dream, she thought, because she felt wonderful, a different kind of wonder. The air was cool, the bed was warm, and the afterglow of last night's rain lifted her spirits. She closed her eyes again and reveled in the sweet memories of making love to Severus. As she recalled last night's events, she quickly reopened her eyes to check if it had all been a dream. When the blurred images around her became clear and confirmed that she was not in her private quarters, she smiled to herself, feeling even more elated than she did before.

Gods, the feeling was surreal. She couldn't believe it finally happened. She had tried for months to get through to Severus, to convince him that there was something between them, and that it couldn't be ignored any longer. He spurned her and scorned her as usual, but she of course kept at it. And last night when they had their worst row yet, she had flung herself against him. Surprised at the instant touch of her lips against his, he gave in to her. He had tried hard for the past few months to fight his feelings for her, but the Headmaster's request that she assist him on brewing the necessary potions for Harry did not help him at all.

The fact that they had to be within such close proximity of each other after class annoyed him so. It was irritating enough having to put up with her incisive ways inside the classroom, but to endure her presence after class was too much. He lashed out at her every possible chance, though it only worsened things for him because she was now determined more than ever to stick to their task. Hermione would sneak down to his dungeons on nights they weren't supposed to meet, and helped brew the potions for Harry. He was never too pleased with her constant intrusion.

Harry had been poisoned at The Leaky Cauldron on their last trip to Hogsmeade. Someone had mixed his drink with a craftily refined aconite to make sure that it poisoned him slowly. The antidote to the aconitum poison is just as toxic if brewed improperly, and needs to be prepared carefully or the drinker would die from an entirely different poison.

Hermione never understood what it was about her that really irked him so, but he kept harrying her out of habit, and she, out of irritation, would stand up against his constant hounding and speak her mind. It was odd to do so, for she never dreamt in her life to be so disrespectful to a Professor, no matter their unpleasantness.

Severus never really minded her being there. He only made her feel as uncomfortable as he could because it was expected of him. Eventually, when he grew accustomed, sometimes comfortable, and at times even expecting her company, he felt a bond had formed between them. But despite how much she annoyed him with her little quirky ways. He felt pulled in by her very presence, the amazing aptitude of her intellect, and her maturity. She never ceased to amaze him, though he never let it show until last night.

Lying on her front with one hand tucked under her face while the other rested on her side, Hermione peeked an eye open to check one more time that she was indeed in Severus' room and not her own. When all was confirmed, again, she stretched herself out sluggishly as she studied her surroundings. She loved the feel of this room. It wasn't fancy, homely, or even gloomy as she had pictured it to be, but it was rather plain. The iron-framed bed was settled against the back wall, with an armchair upholstered in olive material situated to its right. It was set right beneath the only window in the room and its matching footrest was placed on a large diamond hearthrug. Between the bed and the bare concrete wall to her left was a door that led into what Hermione figured was the bathroom.

Facing the opposite wall from the window, Hermione stretched out her hand behind her to feel for her lover, only to have her fingers caught in the rumpled bed linen. It felt cold under her touch, as if it had been unoccupied for a while. She tapped around lightly, falsely expecting her fingers to come across his body. She quickly flipped herself around and winced when the bright morning light got caught in her eyes. She narrowed her eyes from the morning light and saw someone seated in the armchair beneath the window. Severus had been sitting there for a few hours since he received his letter. He reached up with his long arms and pulled the curtains close. Grateful, Hermione opened her eyes wide and stared at the stilled figure seated in the faded armchair. She reached out for his pillow to hug it close to her and felt something long and thin beneath it. She pulled it from under his pillow and saw that it was his wand.

Hermione let out a small grin as Severus watched her intently.

"I didn't know you slept with your wand under your pillow," she said mockingly.

Severus remained silent. His expression had returned to his usual cold glare. Hermione thought nothing of it. She took his silence as acquiescence and that he was simply not a morning person. She flashed him a wistful smile, though it inquired: "Why are you sitting there, and not lying here in bed with me?" She tapped his side of the bed as if to motion for him to join her but he sat ever more still. His eyes were upon her, though his thoughts were somewhere else.

"Severus," she asked, slightly concerned. "What are you doing?"

His thoughts trained back to her. His eyes, cold and distant, lingered on her for a moment before turning away. It sent a chill down her spine and she stared back uneasily, wondering what on earth he was doing.

"Isn't it a beautiful morning?" she whispered in a slightly hoarse voice, ignoring the awkward silence. His eyes shifted slightly and although they were focused on the bed, his thoughts remained on her: how she laid there with nothing but his linen sheets between his gaze and her bare body. He longed to dismiss all his troubles and just bury himself in her arms and bask in her warmth. It was a good thing she was covered up; seeing her naked would not help him at all with what he was about to do.

"Severus?"

"Get dressed," he said almost inaudibly, his voice unexpectedly fluent. Hermione's mind had gone blank for a moment, millions of things suddenly swarming in her head. As soon as she heard him say those words, her mind immediately rendered all possible explanations of what they truly meant: 'It isn't a beautiful morning, why the hell are you still here, last night was a mistake, Good Gods, what have I done, make her go away, make it all go away, I can't believe it was you, you look horrible in the morning, get up, get out, I need to be alone.'

Ignoring her thoughts, she simply stared at him, though he could see by the slight creasing of her eyes that she was worried. He braced himself for what he was about to do. 'Merlin, help him. Help them both.'

"I said get dressed!"

"Is something wrong?"

"Yes. Now gather your things and get dressed," he said coldly, with a slight edge to his voice. Hermione sat up from the bed quickly, the sheet falling off her chest and onto her lap, though her breasts were exposed to him, she did not care. She was too worried about where this conversation was headed. The softness in her eyes had diminished as Hermione glared sternly at the seated man. The profound silence, nerve-wracking and intense, had passed lengthily between them. She felt her heart's slow beating quickly accelerating and her soft breathing, now irregular. Hermione slowly parted her lips, readying herself to say something but unsure of what to say.

Snape turned his eyes away from her and got up from his seat to the footrest before the hearth, where the gray owl was still sleeping, and collected her clothes for her. He leaned over the foot of the bed and handed her her clothes. Hermione shoved the clothes off of her, and hastily got out of bed.

"What's going on?" she spat as he walked over to the window. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Getting rid of you, now get dressed and get out," he said as he whipped around to meet her menacing glare. She was standing completely naked before him, her hair unkempt, and her hands balled into tiny fists. She shook from head to toe, and he felt her breath clash against his face. She was scared out of her wits, though her rigid expressions said otherwise.

"Why are you doing this?" her voice, quivering and soft.

"Isn't it obvious? It was a mistake; now get dressed Granger and get out! I'm not going to tell you again."

"Don't call me that," she said through gritted teeth, tears quickly filled her eyes. He turned from her and walked towards the hearth to get her robes and shoes. Right behind him, Hermione struggled to get in his face. "Look at me, you coward," she said as she pounded her fists against his back. "You can't fool me, I know it wasn't a mistake, so tell me what happened, Severus!"

"It's Professor Snape to you, Miss Granger. I have not given you permission to address me so informally."

"Oh, bullshit," she spat in his face, "you had no complaints last night, you bastard."

"Twenty points," he sneered viciously, "for disrespecting your Professor, and twenty more if I have to tell you again to leave."

Hermione shook her head fervently, her eyes widened with incredulity. "Don't do this! Why are you saying this?"

"Ten points, Miss Granger!"

"Stop it," she lamented while he continued his deduction.

"Twenty more points," he said resolutely as he turned away from her, no longer able to withstand the hurt he saw in her face.

"Don't walk away from me! I know you're hiding something. What is it? What's wrong?"

"Thirty points! Keep it up and you'll be joining the Quidditch team to get them back."

"Oh, fuck you," she heard herself cry.

Severus felt his heart constrict, the pit of his stomach, expanding, and his breath, held in. His eyes had nearly given him away, though a nasty sneer saved him again. "For your irreverent behavior, Miss Granger," he added contemptuously, "Ten more points will be deducted from your House."

"And what about bedding a Professor," she said in an aggrieved jarring voice, "how much will you deduct for that?"

Severus felt as if he had been punched in the midriff. He battled within himself to fight against the memories, thoughts, and feelings trying to edge their way into his subconscious, and meddle with his emotions. He could not allow himself to think about what he was doing to her, or how good she made him feel: the smell of her hair, the feel of her waist, the taste of her skin, her moist tongue twining with his, and the way she looked at him when he told her he loved her. He wished he could go back and erase it all. Undo the whole lot. It would've been a lot easier if last night had never happened... easier for her.

"How much?" she asked, the tears spilling down her face.

"Last night should never have happened." It was my mistake. I took advantage of you, and I can never undo the damage. But rest assured, the Headmaster will be informed of our..."

"Our what?" she asked softly, her voice quivering. "She was hurt--deeply, unspeakably hurt." And he knew it. He knew it by the irregular beating of his heart, the unusual feeling in his gut, his uncoordinated breathing and the numbness in his sides. He never deigned to turn back now. It was too late. She was almost out the door.

"Our misunderstanding," he retorted.

"Don't you think it's a little too late for that?"

"If you had listened to me, this wouldn't have happened in the first place."

"So you're saying it's my fault," she said disbelievingly.

"YES!! It is your fault," he spat in her face. If you hadn't thrown yourself at me, this would've never happened," he lied. One lie after another; he had broken every students' record for lying. He had never felt so repulsed with his behavior.

Hermione shook her head slowly, trying to register her thoughts and his words at the same time. She spoke softly though still on edge, and her anger quickly subsiding. She knew he was up to something, and she was going to find out.

"Severus, I would've never kissed you if I didn't think you wanted it."

"I don't know about you, Miss Granger, but telling you to get the hell out of my life for the past few months in no way meant that I wanted you to throw yourself at me."

"Stop lying! You love me."

"You're an impediment. Now get out," he snapped as he turned from her.

"No."

Severus stopped in his tracks, his back now facing her and he slowly turned to meet her.
"What?"

"I'm not leaving. Not until you tell me what's going on. I saw the way you looked at me last night," she pleaded. "You told me you loved me, and I believed you. Don't do this to me Severus; you can't change what happened last night. If you feel guilty about it, it's understandable. I understand, I do. I'll stay away from you till I graduate. I can do that for you. I know something happened; tell me something happened, tell me something went wrong, just don't tell me it was a mistake."

"Get out!"

Hermione dropped her clothes to the floor and stood rigidly before him, determined she wasn't going anywhere. Tears filled her eyes, though her expression was as plain as ever. Severus had never seen anything so beautiful, so sad. He watched as tears spilled out of her soft eyes, and he fought the urge to make them stop. But his will was set, and he wasn't turning back.

Severus walked over to the fireplace and took the small bronze cup that held his floo powder and scooped some up before throwing it into the hearth.

"Dumbledore," he said firmly.

Hermione's eyes widened as fear struck her hard. She couldn't believe he was doing this; she never thought he would go as far as to get the Headmaster. The idea that he wasn't lying the entire time had now paralyzed her, asserting the fact that he just might not be in love with her.

Dumbledore's head had now appeared in the hearth. He seemed to be chewing on something. He looked up to a livid Snape and immediately stopped chewing. "Severus, is something wrong?"

Hermione covered herself as well as she could with her clothing against her chest and the other beneath her belly, though Dumbledore could not see her. Snape cleared his throat and cursed inwardly as to why he was idiotic enough to call Dumbledore in. At the moment, he had only wanted to get the point across to Hermione. But now that Dumbledore had shown up, he realized he was screwed.

"Severus," the Headmaster repeated.

"Dumbledore, I need to see you right now. It's very important."

Dumbledore nodded, and after a moment, Severus stepped back as the Headmaster stepped out of the hearth and into the room. Hermione stood near the door behind Dumbledore.

"Severus, is something wrong?"

Chilling and unmoving, Severus looked remorsefully towards the Headmaster before he fixed his eyes on a figure behind him. Dumbledore turned his head round to the direction of his gaze, and froze when his eyes met a partially covered Hermione standing miserably before them. The situation between his Potions master and Head Girl had immediately registered in his head.

He sighed softly before turning back to Severus.

"We'll talk about this later, but for now," he turned around and walked towards a distressed Hermione, and with a quick swish of his wand and a simple dressing charm, she was fully clothed and robed. He took her arm and led her to the fireplace.

"Winky," he called out softly, and in an instant, the house elf appeared before him. "Winky, escort Miss Granger to her private quarters and wait there with her. Please see to it that she is taken care of."

"Yes, Headmaster," she squeaked dutifully.

Winky took Hermione by the hand and led her into the large fireplace before the Headmaster scooped some floo powder in his hands and threw it into the hearth.

"The Head Girl's quarters," he said clearly. And with that, a green flame hovered over the two figures and swallowed them in. Before they disappeared, Snape glanced over to the hearth where in a passing moment he saw the hurtful look that lingered in her eyes. It stung him deep in the chest, and the Headmaster caught it all.

The two men stood within feet of each other and Snape, unsure of what to say or where to start, felt him recoiling from the Headmaster. Dreading whatever chastisement the Headmaster was about to give him, he sank into his armchair, his hands covering his face. He felt it was his only shelter from the old man's soft, yet daunting eyes.

"Feel free to lash out when you're ready, Albus. The silence is deadly enough."

"I know exactly how you feel, Severus, you need not to be alone in this. I've no doubt you understand the consequences of your actions, but what I'm not sure of at the moment, is your feelings for the girl."

Snape looked at the Headmaster cautiously, as if what he had just heard was completely unexpected. But the Headmaster stared lengthily at the seated man, awaiting his reply.
"And how could you possibly know what I'm feeling, Albus? I doubt you could even begin to understand what I'm going right now."

Dumbledore walked over to the side of the bed closest to Severus and sat down with his hands planted on his lap. He took off his wizard hat and ran his fingers through his silver hair, as if what he was about to say was too painful to state.

"Severus," he began, "I know that you have heard of a similar case such as yours, when Agapornis ran Hogwarts seventy years ago."

"Yes, but this is not the same case, Albus."

"Aah, then you do love her," he interrupted. "I was afraid of that," he continued. "Well then, in this case, I will continue with my story, because although you may have heard that these were mere copulations between these three professors and their students, one was not the case."

"No?" Severus demurred.

"No. It is not. Two of those professors, I knew quite well. Professor Leshesce and Professor Clement. Both had hated each other with the utmost repugnance, though that is not uncommon today either, but that's beside the point. My point is, their loathing for each other is what led to the bedding of an innocent student who got caught in the crossfire of such hatred. That, Severus, was inexcusable, and disgraceful as well as disrespectful to that poor child, her family, to Hogwarts, and to all the students as well as staff.

"Yes, I understand that it was..." Severus said a bit disconcerted, feeling as if the Headmaster was comparing him to the two insolent Professors; though he wanted to say yet again, 'but this is still not the case'...

"But what of the other?" he said instead.

"Aah, yes, the other. Well, unfortunately for the other Professor, he had chosen the wrong time to fall in love with a student; for he was deeply, and truly in love with her. He didn't even try to fight his feelings. He knew it was meant to be, and that she was made for him. But when the incident between the two Professors happened, he panicked, and worried anybody would think his feelings for the Head Girl, as in your case," he added, "was anything other than love."

"Why hasn't it been explained then by Agapornis that this case was different from the rest?"

"Would anyone believe him?" he asked pensively. Severus remained quiet and Dumbledore took his silence as a 'no'. "As I was saying, the relationship was found out, but only because this Professor decided to confess. The Headmaster, despite his disappointment, agreed to keep it a secret, for he did believe this professor was in love with the young lady. The girl's parents were informed, and she lost her title as Head Girl. Agapornis resigned as Armando Dippet took over. It was a terrible year for us all. The young lady was forbidden to see the Professor, and although his confession had lost him his love, he told himself that one day she would understand and hopefully forgive him as well."

"And how do you know of this, if no one else knew?"

"Because, Severus, that professor was me."

Snape looked at him disbelievingly, unable to process what Dumbledore had just confessed to him.

"Minerva, you see, has told me constantly over the years that she did understand, and has forgiven me, for it was her who I had fallen hopelessly in love with during my years as a professor. So you see, Severus, I do understand what you're feeling, although I had hoped a similar quandary would not occur while I am Headmaster, because in all honesty, I do not know how to deal with it," he said softly. "Should I tell you what I had hoped to hear from my Headmaster those years ago, or should I be more responsible, and do what I have to," he said as a single tear escaped his silver eyes. "It hurts to think what could have become of Minerva and myself, but I am also glad of what we are today."

"I love her, Albus," Severus said softly, "but even if I didn't, I cannot allow it to go on. And it has nothing to do with my pride, or my status as a Professor, for she means more to me than that."

"Then why have you shunned her from your life?"

Severus took out an envelope from his robes and handed the letter to Albus. Severus gulped a mouthful of air and ran his fingers through his hair, before rubbing his eyes in frustration. An unusual expression passed over his face, almost indescribable, as if it was a whole new terrifying expression itself.

"She's alive, Albus--

"She's still alive."

********************