Chapters 51-60

Of All the Hare-brained and Idiotic Things

…love?

But there it was.

The strangest feeling of complete acceptance.

Of respect. Admiration. For his cunning mind, his magnificent skills. For his courage and integrity? Had she developed amnesia? He’d been a Death Eater, for Merlin’s sake. He was a murderer. He had killed a man she adored and liked!

Appreciation. For his wry wit and caustic humour. For the way he was bold enough to express his anger and frustration, when she always ended up biting her tongue. Was the woman crazy? Jumping in the face of people who only wanted to help you was not a good trait of character!

Concern. There was almost nothing about him that she wasn’t concerned about. Did he eat enough? Sleep enough? Did his injury still cause him pain?

Happiness at a fleeting smile.

Exasperation. He was being stubborn? Wasn’t that the pot calling the kettle ‘black’?

Tenderness. How in hell could she look at him as if he were some kind of precious miracle?

And underneath it all the calm conviction that he would never reciprocate any of these sentiments. That she wasn’t deserving of his respect, either for her skills as his apprentice or as a person.

But—

Her thoughts flashed back to the kiss, and he was sucked into a vortex of turmoil. Embroiled by raging desire, his mind was assaulted by two-fold echoes of sensations of such intensity that he gasped aloud.

Need. Desire. Lust.

Then his heart was breaking.

The cliché did not do the experience justice. An overwhelming feeling of despair, a mind-numbing experience of helplessness, of defeat, resulting from her inability to make his life better, worth living. Followed by quiet acceptance. If she couldn’t save his life, she would at least provide him with a gentle death. He deserved so much more, but if that was all he would accept from her, if that was truly what he needed, then she would give it to him. Even though she would much rather give her heart to him, her love, her life.

oooOooo

Then she was in Potter’s arms—of course, that boy and all he stood for had to be present to torture him even here in Hermione’s mind—crying and shaking.

‘I love him.’

‘You what?!’

‘But—Hermione, please don’t take this wrong, but—I admit this is quite a surprising development—However, as far as The Plan is concerned, what is so bad about being in love with him? Especially if he—if he kissed you?’

The Plan?

Suddenly he was in the garden of the Burrow, looking at Luna Lovegood’s serene smile.

‘Simple,” the eccentric Ravenclaw was saying in her most infuriatingly patient tone . ‘We have to find him a wife.’

oooOooo

A sense of apprehension, and again that feeling of quiet, unquestioning acceptance, as he heard and felt the memory of Hermione’s voice: ‘It’s quite simple, really. I have to go and pretend that I want to marry him. Then they will have to do their tests and give me the results…no one will doubt me…They already think I’m completely barmy, it can’t get any worse.’

oooOooo

She hadn’t even thought twice? She had simply, without hesitation, given up a comfortable future with the Weasley boy and her career of choice with the Ministry?

… just because she respected and admired him as a teacher, as an Order member and as a—as a fellow human being? Because he deserved a life?

oooOooo

OF ALL THE HARE-BRAINED AND IDIOTIC THINGS THIS PLAN MUST BE THE MOST…absurd, fantastic, bizarre, ludicrous, preposterous, outrageous, quixotic, impracticable, misguided, ridiculous…he was running out of adjectives…endeavour he had EVER encountered in his whole life.

…and MINERVA was in on the plan?

…how positively…

…Slytherin.

oooOooo

Suddenly he was back at the evening of the concert, and Hermione was being swept along with the crowd after the show. She had intended only a quick trip to the loo. But with her mind in turmoil, her feelings in an uproar, her body burning for him (for him??)…the young witch had been so distracted by the effects his embrace had on her (Oh Merlin, his embrace!) that she never noticed the insidious mind-touch that slipped past the natural barriers of her mind. A vile and subtle lure that had increased her confusion and steered her steps away from the crowd and down a dark alley, until no one would hear her screams in time…

oooOooo

Only then Hermione released him.

Snape slid out of her mind and came to sitting next to Hermione’s bed, holding her hand and shaking all over.

She loved him.

He stared into her brown eyes. Hermione looked very weary, wrung-out, but also incredibly relieved.

Keeping such a…Slytherin…plan secret would have been hard on her, honest Gryffindor that she was. Foolish, foolish girl.

Woman.

She had given up on the future she had envisioned for herself because she was convinced that he deserved a life. Foolish, foolish woman.

She loved him.

She had been prepared to do everything for him. Literally everything. Never mind the consequences. How typically, annoyingly Gryffindor of her.

She loved him.

She liked his goddamn nose.

She wanted him.

She wanted him so much that whenever he merely looked at her, her stomach tightened with need.

She needed him.

His (his!) embrace made her feel safe. Safe and secure. Warm and happy. At peace with herself and the world.

Foolish, foolish woman.

oooOooo

Snape exhaled deeply. Hermione lay in her bed, staring up at him. His black eyes blazed. She was glad that she was no Legilimens. His mind was bound to be a very scary place now. She should probably be frightened out of her wits, since he had discovered not only her…inappropriate feelings for him, but also The Plan.

But all she could feel was boundless, grateful relief.

Her hand still in his, her lids fluttered shut and Hermione fell asleep.

oooOooo

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