Teapaper

It had been two full weeks and no less than five read books since she had seen Snape. She had half expected him not to show up again until three sharp raps at the door had woken her up from her Monday lie-in. Tired bones creaked and she leaned heavily on the staff he’d left with her as she shuffled to the door and opened it. This time instead of Harry cautiously announcing himself she was greeted by the head-swimmingly familiar scent of aftershave.

“Back to our normally scheduled Monday’s then?” She quipped at she let him in. A small jab at his lack of communication last week.

“I needed time. Something I’m sure you’re familiar with.” His dulcet tones- annoyed as they were at her quip poured over her like melted chocolate. And she felt something- some tightly strung unknown muscle release inside of her.

“Hm. Well come in. You’ll have to wait for me to dress. I was having a lie in.” She suddenly wondered what she looked like. The errant thought of wanting to know what she looked like- if it was a good sight- trampled through her brain without invitation. Not that it mattered. She doubted he saw her that way.

“Obviously.” He snarked. She refused to acknowledge why her face felt hot as she turned and headed towards her bedroom to pick out some clothes.

“You know where the pot is if you want to put us on a cuppa.” She called out, hoping her voice sounded casual.

Once her bedroom door shut, she felt for her wand on the bedside and cheated her normal routine to accio the clothes she wanted- a long sleeved mini dress in a soft dove gray and some charcoal gray leggings. Summoning her white chucks, she pulled those on as well and headed to the loo to run a damp brush over her pixie cut to soothe any frizz. She could smell tea and… toast?

When she entered the kitchen a mug was gently pressed in to her hand.

“There’s toast on the table. We have a long day of research to do, and I won’t have you whining about needs such as hunger.” The sentence felt wrong coming from him. Felt too domestic. Too familiar. Wholly unrealistic.

Shaking her head at the dreamlike situation, Hermione sank into her chair and dutifully drank her tea and nibbled on the perfectly buttered toast.

“Where are we off to? Don’t tell me you have a gigantic library in that basement.” The movement at the sink where she assumed he was cleaning out the kettle stopped for a moment before resuming.

“No. But my previous employment has.” Hermione paused mid swallow. Hogwarts. She’d not been back since the final battle to absolutely nobody’s surprise.

“I’ve not been back since…” She trailed off, hating the way her voice gave away the inner workings of her mind.

“We will both be disillusioned. I have no desire to be plagued by pesky old coworkers or the general masses. There are some books in the headmasters office that will serve us well to consult.” Snape intoned, blessedly ignoring her bubbling up panic enough that she could stamp it down once more.

“Of course.” She answered lightly and took a large sip of tea to swallow the half-chewed toast that had gone lumpy in her mouth.

They left quickly after that, Severus wrapping an arm around her waist in a move that let Hermione feel heat of his body from thigh to shoulder once they were situated in the alley for disapperating. Her gifted staff was held securely in his hand as they twisted away and landed on cobblestone.

“The wards still let me come and go at will. We are just outside one of the back entrances to the castle main.” Snape said quietly, still holding her to his side tightly as he pressed the staff in to her hand. She grasped at it and leaned heavily both on him and the staff. Disapperating blind was a wholly full-body dizzying experience that left Hermione adrift and unmoored, unable to center herself with her sight and only able to stand on her feet and wait for her world to stop twisting and turning.

The cool wash of a disillusionment charm helped bring her senses in line as Severus stepped away and fiddled with what she assumed was the door.

“That’s handy.” She said quietly, unable to not say something and unsure of where the urge came from.

“Indeed.” Snape was obviously unimpressed at her small talk skills. Grabbing her by the arm he pulled her inside and began to lead her through what had once been home to them both.

“The repairs have gone well. The ministry must have decided to add insult to injury and have repurposed the Malfoy marble to repair the main entrance and the landings.” He murmured in her ear as they glided along some very smooth floor. She nodded mutely, too taken with his sudden closeness in her ear to cope with more.

According to the map in her head they had almost made it to the headmasters office when Severus hissed out a curse and stepped to the side, tugging her with him and gathering her staff all at once so it didn’t clack on the floor. She knew better than to ask what was going on. The purpose of their disillusionment was to not have to talk to people and to not be seen.

Hindsight being what it was she should have prayed harder that whoever it was passing just kept going and didn’t stop to… enjoy the empty hall.

“God Lav, I swear every day you’re more beautiful than the last.” Ron's voice cut through the silence and was coupled with a breathy giggle and telltale rustle of clothes and thumps as the pair pressed themselves into what sounded like the alcove right beside them.

Hermione couldn’t believe her luck was actually THAT cursed to be effectively trapped to listen to Ron and Lavender do whatever was about to happen. Severus stiffened against her in discomfort. She didn’t blame him for wanting to be anywhere but here and she wished more than anything that they could leave and then scrub their brains of this unfortunate encounter, but a disillusionment charm was not a cloak of invisibility.

“Ronnie! God you’re terrible but oh!” Lavenders voice cut off in a moan and Hermione was effectively frozen. She wanted to clap her hands over her ears. Wanted hum a little song to herself. Anything to block it out. The heat of Severus pressed against her only made it all that much worse. Embarrassment flooded through her in a knee loosening wave and she leaned against him, letting his arm tighten around her further.

“These tits Lav. They keep getting bigger! Fucking delicious, you are.” Ron growled out.

Hermione wasn’t sure why her eyes were leaking tiny drops of lava. This was possibly the worst possible time to cry. Especially in front of him of all people. Perhaps he wouldn’t notice if she just bent her head a bit and waited for it all to be over.

The noises kept getting worse and more lewd as the telltale muffled slapping of skin on skin started and told the pair exactly what was going on in the alcove five feet away from their own. Severus stayed perfectly still, having an iron grip around her waist the only way she knew he hadn’t turned to stone was the feel of his chest rising and falling against her back.

She’d never had the chance to find out how Ron was as a lover but it was apparent that he could hold his own for more than a few quick thrusts as had been complained about so many of the Gryffindor boys back in sixth year and the time stretched on agonizingly.

The crescendo nearly broke her as she heard Ron’s voice whisper “I love you.” Sounding so very wrecked. Her face was soaked with tears by then and a sob hiccupped in her belly, kept silent by her own willpower and the slight tightening of the steel band of the arm wrapped around her.

They waited for the footsteps to leave the hall before Snape let her go and she stumbled away to crash into the opposite wall of the alcove. Taking in a few deep breaths through her nose, she sniffed loudly and wiped her face angrily, giving up on trying to keep her composure. Fuck trying to hide anything about that experience.

“Shall we?” She asked once she’d stood up straight and held her hand out for her staff.

It was placed in her hand wordlessly and once again his hand was on her arm and they made their way down the hall just as silently as before. Never had she been so grateful that Severus understood the need for silence than right now. The holiness of empty air.

The headmasters’ quarters somehow still smelled like Dumbledore. As she ran her fingers along the bookshelves she could feel the silky dust beneath her fingers. It was a mausoleum.

“Is there no headmaster currently?” She asked quietly as Snape put a book in her hand to hold.

“McGonagall has deemed it fit for her to remain in the rooms she’s inhabited for decades.” He answered. “Perhaps for the best if that’s what this hallway is now being used for.”

Her blood froze in her veins for a moment before rushing faster than before.

“Hm. Perhaps.” She answered noncommittally, hoping he’d leave it.

“I was under the impression that last I looked; you and Mr. Weasley were to be the couple of the decade.” Of course, he wouldn’t leave it. Why would he? The universe believed Hermione a glutton for punishment. Obviously.

“Being unable to do so much as hold my hand, Ron lasted less than a year. He needed…more carnal activities aren’t doable for me. I guess love and over seven years of friendship wasn’t enough.” She said after a brief pause that was spent wondering if she should lie, if she should hide the bitterness that always bubbled under the surface of her skin.

“He was unwilling to persevere. How disappointingly Gryffindor. All bravery and bluster until patience is required.” Severus’s voice was dry. A surge of gratefulness rushed through her chest. His lack of pity a balm to the raw and unhealed wound that had just had sandpaper rubbed in it yet again.

“I’ve heard that sex is a necessary part in a relationship. I wouldn’t know. It sounded nice at least, so I can’t blame him.” Another book, this one was heavier than the last and she shifted the weight around.

“It is not the end all be all. Truthfully, I’ve never seen the point in letting such urges take part in deciding the trajectory of one’s life. Long term satisfaction and commitment is far more than a few moments of sloppy rutting.” His voice came floating from across the room and Hermione turned her face to the warmth of the sun from the window to hide her blush at his words before what he’d said really sank in.

“Do you not… partake?” Her mouth asked before her brain even realized she was talking and immediately she prayed the floor swallow her whole once the words hung out there in the open. If the books weren't weighing her arms down she would have clapped her hands over her mouth like a schoolgirl.

“The Dark Lord ensured that even intimacy was a dangerous and twisted thing.” He answered after a painfully long silence where she was sure he was counting the ways to murder her and get away with it.

“So, you didn’t…” she trailed off.

“Not… often.” His voice sounded strange, and she was grateful he wasn’t the only one affected by the subject matter even if she didn’t know the specifics of why he was bothered. The vague knowledge seemed to make her feel as if the playing field was leveled for at least a moment.

A strange feeling of camaraderie blossomed in her chest even as embarrassment threatened to ruin it.

Two more books were pressed in to her hands and Severus’s smell was once again overwhelming her senses that at once seemed to be on fire for fully incomprehensible reasons.

“It’s time to go. We have what we came here for.”