Chapters 81-90

I Want You

On Tuesday evening Severus and Hermione were sitting at the big desk in Severus’ study, both of them pretending to concentrate on what they were doing. Severus was scowling at a stack of essays from his Fifth Year students, while Hermione was intent on drawing up lists and formulating flash cards.

‘Do you have any idea who Alina’s father is?’ Hermione asked suddenly.

Her husband looked up. The sharp lines around his mouth deepened. Somehow he managed to look both relieved and displeased at her interruption at the same time. He steepled his fingers and contemplated her question. In her experience with the Potions Master that meant without a doubt that she would not like his answer. But as she didn’t expect that effect anyway, she kept her gaze on him steadily.

‘As a matter of fact, I do.’

‘Then why aren’t you telling Lois? And Alina?’

‘Merlin save me from Gryffindor candour. Answer your own questions, Hermione. For the brightest witch of her generation that shouldn’t be too demanding a challenge.’

She put down her pen with a smack. ‘Severus, I understand that you’re on edge, but there’s no need to jump into my face like that.’
Then she huffed. ‘Very well. I shall try.—You have an idea, but you’re not completely sure. You don’t like your idea, so you want to make sure you’ve got proof.’

‘That wasn’t very difficult, was it?’ he sneered. ‘I suppose the idea that I am loath to take away the last good memories from Lois that she has kept of that man did not occur to you?’

‘Severus, I know you like Lois and Alina,’ Hermione rebuked him. ‘Anything else?’

‘As you said, I need proof. There is also a potion I should probably keep ready for that occasion, so that I can at least provide final and conclusive proof that Alina is not a fruit of my loins.’ His voice stung with bitterness. ‘Hermione, whatever you are trying to do with those lists and flashcards, it won’t do any good.’

She scowled at him. ‘What else should I do? And besides, you’ve no idea if it’s not going to help. I always find that a well-ordered mind and a systematical preparation are 50 of any exam. At least!’

‘But the test of the Probations Official won’t be an exam! If you really believe that we can pass that test, then you’ve been reading too many romance novels about the Muggle immigrations office of the United States of America,’ Severus snarled, his hands gripping the edge of the table.

She glared at him. Why did he have to be so negative? ‘Actually, I haven’t read any novels. I only saw a movie about that once.’

‘Let me guess. It had a happy ending?’

Hermione ignored his reply and rose to her feet. She was tense and angry and scared, and when she looked at him, all she could think of was how it would feel to be naked with him. Her mind supplied his most heartfelt way of cursing: Damn, and damn, and damn again.

‘Let us go to bed?’ Take that in terms of Gryffindor bluntness.

Black eyes glittered with ill-concealed anger. ‘Do you really think that will help with the test that lies ahead of us?’

Hermione shrugged uncomfortably, but she didn’t draw back. ‘Maybe. Most of all it might help—us—now!
‘I want you, Severus.’

That brought him to his feet. His arms went around her back and fiercely pressed her against the scratchy fabric of his frock coat.

‘And I you,’ he murmured. His lips found her mouth, but just for the shortest brushing of lips.
‘But I will be damned,’ he growled, ‘if I let the Department of Magical Law Enforcement force us into consummation of our desires.’

That made her turn her head up sharply.

‘You know what they say, don’t you? “Temper gets you into trouble. Pride keeps you there.” If both of us—’

He held up a hand to stop her. ‘Hermione, you know that I am a proud man.

‘However,’ he added, his voice harsh, his eyes boring into her, ‘ill choices in my friends and my ways of life saw to it that I learnt humility at the mercy of two masters, who—each in their own way—took complete control of my life.
‘One moment I was sprawling in the mud, my lips kissing the hem of Voldemort’s robes, being tortured and raped because the Dark Lord felt he needed to make sure that I was sufficiently…intimidated—’ Severus smiled bitterly at the horrified noise that escaped her. ‘Hermione, you didn’t honestly believe it was simply a matter of ‘returning to the Dark Lord’s side’ for me? Not even you can be that naïve! Lucius Malfoy, for all his high and mighty notions about the purity of blood, was never one to pass up on a good bit of arse. And for all the Dark Lord’s inability to comprehend even the basest of emotional needs, Voldemort was quite fascinated with the process of watching it satisfied—if it suited his…other needs.’
‘And the next moment,’ Severus took up his original train of thought again, ‘the next moment I was back at school, teaching the children of the very same men who so much enjoyed their time with me…and the boy I was sworn to protect was risking his life in the most foolish ways whenever I so much as turned my head.’

‘With no one to trust you, and many who despised you,’ she said softly.

He inclined his head.

‘And another master who didn’t give a damn about your soul.’

‘Quite so.’

‘I am sorry, Severus,’ Hermione whispered. ‘You’re right. I am naïve. I—oh God—‘understand’ is so very much the wrong word in this context…but…I do understand now that your reluctance is not—purely—for my benefit.
‘And I still want you.’

‘Oh, Hermione…’