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Hermione squinted as she entered the dark corridor. The dim light of the occasional sconce did little to guide her way, rendering even her bright lime green healer’s robes indistinguishable from the rest of her surroundings. Her nose wrinkled at the fetid smell issuing from under the cell doors. She’d never seen the inside of an Azkaban cell, but if the smell was any indication, the inmates had no means of disposing of their waste.
Her fury rose with each step as the two lackeys Kingsley sent over from the auror team herded her down the hall. It really didn’t help that one of the stooges in question was Cormac McLaggen. She was just thankful that he wasn’t still trying to regale her with tales of his bravery in an effort to get in her knickers.
The entire situation soured her stomach. She’d spent three years working with Harry to save Severus. They’d presented Severus’ own memories, excerpts from Albus Dumbledore’s extensive and detailed journal, and testimony from over a dozen students and faculty regarding his actions to protect them during the war…all to no avail.
The Wizengamot didn’t care that he spent twenty years as a spy feeding information to Dumbledore and the Order. They didn’t care that Albus’ journal made it clear that he’d ordered Severus to kill him and that Narcissa and Draco confirmed the unbreakable vow that he’d made to keep his godson from becoming a murderer. They didn’t care that he’d brought the Sword of Gryffyndor to Harry while they were on the run.
There were no extenuating circumstances or shades of gray for the Death Eaters. Severus had associated with Voldemort and was therefore tainted. They’d sentenced him to the dementor’s kiss with the same gravity that they ordered a round of firewhiskey at The Leaky Cauldron.
Hermione took a deep breath, struggling to get her anger under control as they finally arrived at the last cell. McLaggen abruptly turned to her. “You have exactly ten minutes, Granger, then it’s off to the gallows for the greasy bat.”
The other auror snickered at his colleague’s joke. “That’s right, Cormac. I don’t even know why they’re letting her in. There’s not a healer in the world who can save old Snivellus now.”
Hermione resisted the urge to knee him in the testicles, mentally cursing Harry for allowing the memory of the Marauders’ bullying of Severus to be shown as evidence in the trial. He’d thought that showing them the memory would help them understand and sympathize with Severus for joining the Death Eaters in his youth, but it had backfired spectacularly. Hearing Severus call Lily a “mudblood” had just fed the flame of their ruthless, draconian judgment. It had also given the prison guards license to start using the nickname his bullies used to torment him for years.
She entered the cell, sinking to her knees in front of him as soon as she heard the cell door close behind her. “Severus…” her voice broke as she saw her former professor for the first time since the end of his trial over a year ago.
He was slumped against the wall, knees pulled up to his chest and hands perched on his knees. He stared unblinking at the floor, not even aware of Hermione’s presence. It was obvious even in the dim light that he was malnourished, his cheekbones even more prominent than usual. His pale gray shirt and trousers were so caked with blood and filth that the fabric clung to his skin. Her fears about waste were confirmed when she spotted an overflowing bucket in the corner.
She placed her hands on top of his. “Severus, can you hear me?”
He still didn’t blink or look up from the floor, but inquired with the softest of whispers. “I don’t recall ever giving you leave to use my given name, Miss Granger. What exactly are you doing here? Don’t you have autographs to sign?”
She huffed a laugh, ignoring his remark about her using his given name. “I haven’t been asked to sign an autograph in a long time, and you already know that I’m here to save you.”
“I’m afraid there’s not much chance of that, even with the most insufferable know-it-all of my acquaintance condescending to help me.” His tone was flat and emotionless.
Hermione summoned a small cup from her beaded bag and cast an aguamenti charm. “Can you swallow for me?”
He raised a single eyebrow in response. She managed to wrap his fingers around the cup and placed her hands gently on either side of his throat. “I need you to show me.”
She watched him take a sip from the glass and swallow thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He continued sipping from the cup, and Hermione wondered how long it had been since they gave him water. She fished an ornate blue glass vial out of her robes.
Severus glanced up for the first time, the corner of his mouth twitching as though we were trying to sneer but had forgotten how. “What is that obnoxious bauble, Granger? No potions master would engage in such frippery.”
She snickered, pleased beyond reason that even Azkaban couldn’t entirely crush the sardonic bastard she’d known over half her life. “Fortunately for me, I’m not a potions master. I’m a healer. Now be a good boy and drink this.”
She gripped his chin, tipping the contents of the vial into his open mouth. He met her gaze for the first time as he swallowed the potion. “If I were in different circumstances, I would probably refuse to drink whatever vile sludge that was unless I’d brewed it myself, but it doesn’t really matter. Even if you’re trying to poison me, it’s quite likely better than what they have planned for me, don’t you think?”
“We’re not going to stick around to find out. I need you to drop your occlumency shields now.”
“Occlumency is giving me my only measure of peace before the blood-thirsty mongrels get the execution they’ve been clamoring for, so why should I do that?”
She reached out to cup his cheek, surprised by her own boldness. “Because you’ll miss my magic trick if you don’t.”
Hermione rolled up her sleeves and cupped her empty hands as though she were holding a ball. “Crete lucunam!”
A low-level humming sound gathered in the room, gradually contracting and concentrating in the space between Hermione’s hands. Severus could feel the spell more than hear it, the miniscule vibrations causing goosebumps to erupt all over his arms. She picked up her wand again and touched it to the tip of one of his fingers. She let a few drops of his blood drip into her hand before healing his wound.
“Ficta anima.” Hermione whispered the spell into her hands as though she were disclosing her deepest secret. The humming sound gradually subsided, and as she opened her hands, his eyes widened in shock at the blue orb of light that was the fruit of her labor.
She held it up for him to examine it more closely. “It’s a–”
“I can assure you that I’ve not forgotten my Latin, Miss Granger. I know that it’s a counterfeit soul.”
“Actually, I’ve decided to call it a ‘kernel.’”
“I don’t care what your pet name is for your dark magic. What I’d like to know is how you learned to make one.”
“Later. We’re running short on time now. Right now we need to trick a few dementors.”
He looked at her skeptically. “So how does it work?”
She held his gaze, trying her best to mask her intentions. “The next part will actually work better if you don’t know what’s coming.”
“And just what is that supposed to–”
His head fell back against the wall with a hard thud as she entered his mind. She narrowly managed to avoid his efforts to expel her, bundling the salient features of his soul together as quickly as she could before leaving the kernel in its place. She took a moment to admire Severus’ soul. The silver and black orb was beautiful, the turbulent swirling of colors suggesting his anger almost as clearly as his acerbic tongue.
“I’m sorry, Severus, but you have to trust me.” She hesitated only briefly before ushering the ball of light into her mouth.
The noises had roused the suspicions of the aurors, and McLaggen opened the door with a loud bang. “What are you doing in here, Granger?”
She stood slowly, trying in vain to brush the muck of the cell off her knees. “Just saying my goodbyes, Cormac. No need to be alarmed.”
His nose wrinkled in disgust. “Yes. You always did have a bleeding heart, didn’t you?”
He pulled Severus up by the elbow, roughly pushing him towards the cell door. “Time’s up old bat.” Severus stumbled, but recovered quickly.
She released the breath she’d been holding, relief washing over her. With no way to test her new spells, she’d had no way of knowing if the kernel would properly interact with Severus’ motor functions.
Cormac gave Severus another shove. “I see that you didn’t get a goodbye kiss from Hermione, Professor, but don’t worry. We’re taking you to see someone who’ll be more than happy to snog you senseless.”
Under normal circumstances, Hermione would have hexed Cormac into next week, but she was glad that they were distracted on this occasion. She was quite certain that she looked like she was having an apoplectic fit when she felt Severus’ consciousness bubble up next to hers. She flexed her fingers. It appeared that she maintained control over her body in spite of carrying his soul.
“Miss Granger, just what the bloody hell have you done, you irksome, meddlesome witch?”
Hermione breathed in sharply, a hand flying to her temple as his rich baritone rippled through her mind. “It worked. How astonishing.”
She didn’t realize she’d said the words out loud until Cormac glanced over his shoulder. “What worked, Granger?”
“Oh–I–I was just thinking that these halls are so cold, and I’m pleased that the new warming charm I’ve been developing is working so well.”
“He’s not going to believe that unless he’s a complete idiot.”
Cormac looked her up and down. “If it’s warming up you need, just let me know. I’d be happy to help anytime.”
“I always knew I’d be more likely to have an intelligent conversation with a flobberworm than McLaggen. Please wait until you manage to dispatch me if you intend to take him up on his offer.”
Hermione felt a shudder of revulsion. “That won’t be necessary, Cormac.”
He shrugged as they continued walking, leaning over to whisper to the other auror when he thought she couldn’t hear him. “Don’t let her fool you, Julian. Before the night’s over I’ll have her bent over her own examination table screaming my name.”
His companion snorted, the obnoxious sound echoing off the stone walls. Hermione flicked her wrist, casting a wireless impedimenta that sent the two men stumbling to the floor. She loomed over them. “Do be more careful, gentleman. I’d hate to report back to Kingsley that his two best aurors were injured while doing something as simple as walking.”
Cormac shoved her hand away when she pretended to help him up, straightening his robes and continuing down to the end of the hall with a huff. The spiral staircase leading down to the ground level was more brightly lit than the halls, and Hermione hung back from the aurors in case she accidentally said her thoughts aloud again. She focused her mind, imagining her thoughts in her own voice.
“Can you hear me, Severus?”
“It would be rather difficult not to hear you given the fact that I’m in your mind…a mind that is shockingly cluttered and disorganized. I can’t move at all without tripping over some bit of detritus you’ve learned.”
Hermione blushed under his scrutiny. “Given that my life has been chaotic since the age of eleven, it can’t be that surprising to know that my mind is a bit of a mess.”
“It’s not for me to judge you–”
“Really? Since when? Your judgment and criticism were probably the most consistent features of my formative years.”
He ignored her interruption. “Besides, I don’t intend to stay here for long. I would hope that you have a plan beyond making the dementors think that your ‘kernel’ is my soul?”
He could feel her excitement even though she tried to suppress the sensation. “Well, after the dementors take the kernel, everyone will think you’re dead, but you won’t be.”
She could feel him mentally raising an eyebrow. “The potion, I presume?”
“Yes. It’s a modification of a calming draught that’s tempered with a disillusionment charm. It masks the patient’s vital signs to the point that even the most advanced diagnostic spells would show no heartbeat or brain activity.”
“So you plan to reunite my soul with my body after the ‘execution’?”
“That’s right, but first I’ll have to retrieve your body from the depths of the North Sea.”
“What?!”
He felt her sheepishness for speaking so bluntly. “Forgive me, Severus, but the way they handle the bodies after executions is by binding them with chains and sinking them to the bottom of the North Sea.”
“That’s barbaric.”
“Apparently the purpose of the practice is to prevent the use of dark magic on corpses. When Ekrizdis built Azkaban, he had a nasty fascination with luring Muggle sailors to their deaths and using their corpses for dark magic. Sinking them prevents abuse of the corpse.”
“But you have a way around this?”
“I do, and once we retrieve your not-so-dead body, we can reunite your soul with it and you can ride off into the sunset.”
“How do you plan to reunite my soul with my body?”
“Don’t ask so many questions. You’ll ruin the surprise.” Severus could sense her fear when he asked the question, and as much as he loved making her uncomfortable, he decided not to press her immediately.
“Since you clearly don’t want to reveal the process in full yet, you can at least answer my earlier question. Where did you learn to make the potion and spells you used on me?”
“I can’t take much credit for the potion itself. The robust calming draught recipe is in Secrets of the Darkest Art. It turns out Dumbledore was unsuccessful in having all copies of the book destroyed. Harry and Ginny gave me full access to the Black family library, and to no one’s surprise, the Black family had a copy of the book. The disillusionment spell, however, is my own creation. It must be cast as the potion is decanted or it won’t work.”
She barely managed to stifle a gasp as she felt him mulling over her answer. The sheer speed with which he made connections was impressive enough, but the reverence with which he regarded her thoughts left her a bit weak in the knees, a condition which only intensified when she caught a quick glimpse of what he actually thought about her. The person she’d respected and been attracted to for years, the man who’d always mocked and taunted her need to be praised honestly thought she was brilliant.
Hermione could feel him smirking at her. “Let’s just pretend you didn’t see that, shall we? I wouldn’t want to make the insufferable know-it-all even more insufferable. ”
Hermione pouted. “I was enjoying your thoughts on my research. They’re so much nicer than the usual vitriol that comes out of your mouth.”
“While I admit to being mildly impressed, I can only assume that the spells necessary to make the ‘kernel,’ as you call it, came from the Darkest Art grimoire.”
“And you would be wrong. There’s a great deal of dark magic pertaining to souls in the Darkest Art, but the two spells to create the kernel are mine. If anything, I took inspiration from Star–”
She stopped abruptly, but it was too late. Severus was already laughing in her mind. “Miss Granger, do you honestly mean to tell me that you took the idea from Star Trek?”
“...yes. ” She felt unusually timid in admitting her source of inspiration.
“Wait…let me guess. You took it from The Wrath of Khan, when Spock deposits his katra in Bones’ mind until it can be reunited with his body?”
She was stunned. “Yes! Have you seen it?”
He was quiet for a moment, as he took no pleasure in discussing his youth. “When I was very young, my mother used to take me to the cinema, but we stopped once I left for Hogwarts. After the Dark Lord was defeated the first time, I began to engage in parts of Muggle culture that I enjoy, cinema and music in particular. The Wrath of Khan was the first film I saw after the first war. I–I envied the friendship between Kirk and Spock. They fought for each other, even when the odds were not in their favor, and they were willing to forgive each other’s weaknesses.”
Hermione felt his regret as the specter of Lily crossed his thoughts, and flailed about to find a way to redirect his spiraling thoughts. “I think you’ll find that you have many friends who are willing to fight for you, but I don’t think I can be your Kirk. I don’t have the right brand of arrogance to pull off that role. Perhaps Draco can be your Kirk.”
She sensed his melancholia lift a bit at the thought of his godson. “Indeed. Draco does fit the bill. He thinks too highly of his own opinion and yet often escapes unscathed. I have to confess that I miss my godson. Does he know what you’re planning?”
“Of course he does. Who do you think pulled the strings to ensure that I’d be the healer to attend your execution?”
“I should have known. The Malfoys are experts at greasing wheels. Are there others in on this?”
“A few, but they didn’t come today for fear of raising suspicions. The Ministry might be more alert for a breach of security if too many people who testified on your behalf at the trial were present today.”
“And they assumed that Hermione Granger, consummate rule follower, would never help a criminal in his escape?”
“Precisely.”
“They don’t know you very well, do they? Shall I tell them about the time you set my robes on fire or the time you stole ingredients from my cabinet to make polyjuice?”
“You knew that was me?!”
“Of course. You’re not as good at covering your tracks as you think you are, Miss Granger. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement may be so populated with dunderheads that they can’t figure out if a thirteen-year-old girl used her time-turner to help a known criminal, but I assure you we are not all so thick. I suppose I should just count myself fortunate that you’re on my side.”
Hermione shuddered as they approached the bottom of the stairs. “I hate to interrupt your diatribe, Severus, but I think I should warn you that you’re going to see something very unpleasant.”
“More unpleasant than having to watch McLaggen try to get in your knickers?”
“I suppose that depends on your perspective. You’re going to watch your own death, or at least what they perceive to be your death. There won’t be any grand speeches or eulogies. The last thing the Ministry wants is for you to be a martyr for an already disgruntled post-war wizarding world. There will only be a few witnesses, and most of them are happy about your death. I just want to warn you.”
“I’d never planned to survive the war, Miss Granger. I’ve imagined my death many times, and being despised is something I’m well accustomed to after twenty years of practice.”
Hermione waited when they came to the bottom of the stairs as Cormac and his partner paused in front of a heavy iron door carved with runes preventing egress. Cormac waved his wand in front of the door, which swung open with a rusty groan. He turned to look at her, and the glee in his expression made the bile rise in the back of Hermione’s throat. “Ready for the show, Granger?”
She couldn’t take another moment of the idiot. “Unless that dementor is going to be sucking your presumptuous, asinine ego out of your body, then I see little to be excited about, McLaggen.”
Hermione was shocked by her own quip, secretly wondering if Severus’ presence in her mind was affecting her. Severus was chuckling in her mind again, and Hermione decided to ignore both the man in front of her and the one in her head for the time being. She stepped through the open door, the boisterous wind of the North Sea immediately trying to seize the hair in her neatly plaited braid.
The shore was a short distance from the door, crags of rocks creating a natural barrier between the boisterous waters of the North Sea and the walls of Azkaban. Cormac and his partner steered Severus’ kernel toward a grim stone altar at the water’s edge, forcing him to lie on his back on the cold surface. They placed binding charms to keep him from moving.
Aside from the aurors, two prison guards were the only other witnesses in attendance. For his part, Severus was just glad that this godson, the only person who cared for him, wouldn’t have to watch his execution.
Hermione shook her head at his last thought. “Draco isn’t the only one who cares about you, Severus. I–”
Her thought was cut off when one of the guards raised his arm to cast a beckoning charm. The effect was immediate and vicious. Dozens of dementors flocked to the altar, the dizzying maelstrom almost obscuring Severus from view. The air around them chilled until Hermione was shivering and her lips took on a bluish cast. What little she could see of Severus’ body was thrashing back and forth violently in spite of the binding charms.
His back bowed as they tried to suction the kernel from his body, and after what felt like an eternity, the tiny blue flame emerged from his mouth. The dementors gathered together, siphoning the energy from the flame. Tears were pouring down Hermione’s face as it began to flicker, and when another dementor joined the others and swallowed the kernel, forcing the blue flame to gutter, she nearly fell to her knees in anguish.
Severus was a bit puzzled by her reaction given that he wasn’t actually dying, but he felt oddly touched that the idea of his death would affect her at all. “It’s alright, Miss Granger. Thanks to you, I’m beyond their reach.”
Hermione apparently felt the urge to explain her response, though he would never have forced her confidence. Her memories slowly revealed themselves, and he was surprised that most of them weren’t from their time as teacher and student. She was showing him moments from her apprenticeship that she’d started at St. Mungo’s shortly after the end of the war and completed only a few months ago.
Memories of breakthroughs when she wanted to share her findings with someone who could understand the implications of her work. Memories of setbacks when she’d needed someone who could empathize with her frustration and disappointment. Images of nights spent alone reading, mind ablaze with thoughts she desperately wanted to discuss with someone who wouldn’t just agree with her opinions to avoid further conversation.
The most shocking part of all was that it wasn’t just any “someone” she wanted. It was him. In every moment it was his mind she longed for. Not because he was kind or amiable, but because she could engage with him as an equal. She showed him an image of them sitting on her couch, hands flying animatedly with their discussion as cold cups of tea sat forgotten in the heat of their argument.
Severus was transfixed, the question of whether he could indeed have a friendship with his former student just beginning to take root when Hermione’s anger suddenly burned through him. He’d been so distracted by her memories that he didn’t realize she was arguing with McLaggen.
The idiot had an arm around Hermione’s waist. “The show’s over. Enough with the waterworks and the playing hard to get, Granger. The guards can finish up with the old bat’s body here. Let’s go get a few drinks at The Leaky Cauldron and head back to your place.”
She pulled her arm out of his grasp. “I’d rather snog a dementor than spend five minutes in your company, Cormac.”
She turned on her heel without waiting for an answer, in part to avoid having to talk to him further, and in part to avoid watching the guards wrap Severus’ body in loose linens and chains to sink it into the sea. As she walked along the shoreline, the crags of rocks gradually rose, eventually forming cliffs above them. She stooped when she found an alcove in the rocks, crawling inside and casting a disillusionment charm for good measure.
She pulled her knees up to her chest, waiting patiently until she could be reasonably sure the aurors and guards had finished the job of disposing of the body. The sun finally set, the stars veiled by the heavy clouds. After a half hour of waiting, the clouds finally began to thin and moonlight flooded the shore in front of them.
Severus was quiet for a long time before breaking their companionable silence. “How long has that dunderhead been lusting after you?”
“You just witnessed your own death, and the first thing you want to talk about is how long Cormac McLaggen has been trying to get in my knickers? And here I thought you’d made a good conversation partner.”
“He’s not at all a good match for you. It was painful enough trying to watch Weasley court you at Hogwarts, but even he had more grace than McLaggen.”
Hermione bit back a grin, pleasantly surprised by the hint of jealousy in his tone. “I don’t disagree. I only asked him to Slughorn’s party in sixth year to make Ron jealous, and he’s been trying to hump my leg ever since.”
As if their conversation had summoned them, Hermione heard Cormac and his partner, Julian, trudging down the coast toward the Ministry apparition point. Cormac apparently wasn’t finished airing his grievances.
“Just five minutes alone with her and I’d be slapping her chin with my balls, Julian.”
Julian looked weary, and Hermione could hardly blame him when he had the unfortunate task of stroking Cormac’s ego. “I don’t know, Cormac. Didn’t you see how distraught she was when the dementors were eating the old bat’s soul? Say what you will, but I think she might have truly fancied the bastard.”
The rest of their conversation was lost as they continued down the shore, but Hermione could feel Severus’ question hanging thick in the air. “I think we’d better get you back in your body before I attempt a response, as you may not want anything to do with me after that.”
“I doubt you could do anything worse than I’ve done in the service of Dark Lord, Miss Granger.”
“Maybe not worse, but certainly disconcerting.”
“Well now I’m just curious. Do your worst.”
Hermione took a deep breath to shake off some of her nerves. She was terrified of how he’d react when she told him the process for reuniting his soul with his body, but she forced herself to step out of the alcove and raise her wand, pointing to the rolling waves. “Imperius!”
She could feel his mocking glare inside her head. “An unforgivable, Miss Granger? You really have gone to the dark side.”
“That’s only the start of it, Severus.”
They watched in silence as the naked body of Severus Snape emerged from the depths of the sea, walking with a steady, if somewhat unnatural gait. She forced him to lie down on the sandy beach, his pale skin luminous in the moonlight. She stood looking down at him, her stomach churning with fear.
She started talking to relieve some of her anxiety. “The potion kept you alive, so your body still responds to the imperius curse.”
Severus suddenly understood the source of her fear. “You intend to use sex magic, don’t you?”
“How did you know?”
She cringed at the bite of disgust in his reply. “Because you used the Black family library to find your spells, and if there was one thing the Black family was interested in, it was fucking other people over.”
All of the color drained from her face. “I’m so sorry, Severus. If you don’t want me to, I won’t.”
“And what? Be stuck in your head for the rest of my life. The dementor’s kiss might have been more merciful.”
He was met with silence, and even he knew that he was being unfair. She should have told him the method she planned to use to bind him back to his body, but then what if he’d said no? She wasn’t going to just let him die. After a moment of silence, he realized that she was still looking to him for direction.
“Do what you must, Miss Granger, but I insist that you refrain from any unnecessary intimacy.”
She didn’t hesitate, lifting up her robes enough to straddle his supine body. He could feel her sadness and longing when she reached up as though she wanted to brush a thumb over his mouth and run her fingers over his scarred chest, but she respected his wish to limit their contact.
She ducked a hand under her robes, and although he couldn’t see what was happening, he could imagine her little hand pumping him, her thumb circling his glans and spreading precum all over the ruddy head of his cock. He was just thinking that he didn’t mind the idea so much when he sensed her pain, a soft whimper escaping her lips.
Another strangled cry ripped from her throat as she forced herself down his shaft, and Severus finally realized what was happening. She’d just sacrificed her virginity to save him right after he’d insulted her and essentially told her that he didn’t want her to touch him. He felt the first stab of remorse when she murmured a spell under her breath.
He felt the pull instantly, rather like apparition but multiplied tenfold. He sputtered and coughed as he returned to himself. The feeling of air in his lungs was closely followed by the warm, snug sensation of her body around him, a feeling he might have enjoyed under different circumstances.
Quiet tears were streaming down her face, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as though trying to give herself comfort. Severus sat up, keeping her in his lap as he cradled her cheeks. “Hermione–”
She shook her head, moving to rise from his lap. “It’s done, Severus. There’s no need to–”
His hands flew to her hips, holding her firmly in place. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.”
He managed to coax one of her hands away from her side, bringing it to his lips and kissing her palm and the inside of her wrist. His voice dropped to a seductive purr. “Don’t you want to stay and be a good girl for me?
Severus chuckled when she clenched around him, unable to hide her body’s response.
She looked on the verge of tears again. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you doing something just because you felt you owed me something. I wanted to help you, so there is no debt. I–”
He tangled his fingers in her hair, gently drawing her to him until their lips met. His kiss was hesitant at first, an apology of sorts, but Hermione had no interest in timidity when she finally realized that he wanted her to touch him. She responded warmly, teasing the seam of his lips with the tip of her tongue until he welcomed her advances.
He pulled her hand to his chest, encouraging her to trace each of his scars with eager fingers. His ribs were prominent from malnutrition, and his body had accumulated more scars due to abuse in Azkaban, but Hermione still found him beautiful. She touched each of his scars, leaning down to trace her tongue over several of the more prominent marks. She ran her fingers through his dark chest hair, trailing over his stomach until she followed the dark trail of hair down to where they were joined.
He toyed with the hem of her robes, and she helped him pull them over her head. She moaned when his hands found her breasts, her nipples pebbling as he rolled one of the tips between his thumb and index finger.
“You’re so lovely, my little lioness.”
“I thought you’d hate me, that you’d think I’m a monster.”
“I’m upset that you didn’t tell me your entire plan before we started, but you’re no monster, Hermione.” He felt her posture relax, and he was surprised that his opinion mattered so much to her.
He sucked on her throat, nibbling until he was confident there would be a mark. He wasn’t sure if they would ever see each other again after tonight, and he wanted to be sure that she walked away with a reminder of him. He didn’t want to be someone she easily forgot.
He relished the sting of her nails on his shoulders when he captured a coral nipple in his mouth. He circled the wrinkled bud with the tip of his tongue, dragging his teeth over the sensitive tip until she was rolling her hips. He groaned around her nipple, his cock still hard inside her and begging for more stimulation.
“Please, Severus–”
He growled as he flipped her onto her back, burying himself to the hilt with a firm thrust.
“Yessssss,” she hissed. Her head tipped back, hair coming loose from her braid and fanning over the sand. Pebbles and shards of shells dug into her back, but she couldn’t be arsed to care when Severus was finally touching her, kissing her shoulder and digging his fingers into her thighs.
He tipped her chin down until their eyes met. “Look at how wet and eager you are, stretched over my cock and writhing in pleasure. So beautiful…”
She whimpered in response, shifting her leg and digging her heel into the small of his back. Severus took the hint, snapping his hips against hers as his hand slipped between them. He quickly found her clit, groaning when he felt how wet she was for him. The feeling of being so full combined with the sound of his skin snapping against hers quickly drove Hermione to the edge. She keened when he pressed firm circles over her clit, her back arching off the sand as she came, walls fluttering around his cock until he spilled into her with a final thrust.
She kept her legs wrapped around him as they tried to catch their breath. They kissed languidly as he stroked her cheeks, her neck, her arms. He was gentle and attentive, but she could sense the growing awkwardness between them.
When he finally pulled out of her and rolled over onto his back, she sat up and reached for her threadbare beaded bag, hoping that doing something useful would distract her from the awkwardness. She handed him clean pants, black trousers, and a gray, long-sleeved linen shirt. When she turned to pull her healer’s robes over her head, Severus surreptitiously lifted the collar of the new shirt to his nose and inhaled, pleased to find that the material smelled like her, like bergamot and vanilla.
She handed him a dark green jumper to slip over his long-sleeved shirt. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, but I thought that might at least stave off the chill.”
He pulled the jumper over his head, stroking the thick wool appreciatively. “This will do quite nicely for starters. Thank you.”
Severus felt a sudden constriction in his chest at the thought that he wouldn’t see her again. He was almost…sad…at parting ways with her. It would be interesting to know if they could be friends, or perhaps even…
He stopped the thought before it could go any further. “Well, Hermione, I’d better make my great escape.”
She held up one finger as she rummaged in her bag again. “Don’t be in such a rush. I have gifts for you.”
“Gifts?” His voice sounded strained even to him.
“Yes. Is that alright?”
Severus couldn’t bring himself to admit that he had no experience with presents except for perfunctory, impersonal offerings from Albus and Lucius at Christmas, so he settled for answering her with a sharp nod.
“You asked me earlier if there were other people in on my plan. Those same people have asked me to give you a few things.”
She rooted around in her bag for a moment before handing him a black envelope secured with the green Malfoy family seal. He opened the missive slowly, his eyes widening in surprise as he read. Hermione placed a warm hand over his. “Draco wanted you to be able to make a fresh start. Since he’s listed as the sole beneficiary in your will, he was able to access your vault. He also managed to convince–”
“By which you mean bribe, of course,” he supplied with an amused smirk.
“Of course. He convinced the Gringotts goblins to let him claim the Prince estate, as you were the last heir and he is your beneficiary. Also,we all knew that you wouldn’t be able to go by your current name if you wanted to truly escape, so Draco has picked a name from his own ancestral line. The assets from both your vault and the Prince vault are in a new account for Armand Prince.”
“Armand? I sound like a character in an Anne Rice vampire novel.”
“Yes. You’ll need a cape that billows even more than your old teaching robes to pull that name off.”
He leaned forward to peek into her bag. “Surely you have one for me in there.”
“Sadly, no. You’d be quite sexy as a vampire, though honestly you’re quite sexy anyway–” She slapped her hand over her mouth.
“You still haven’t conquered the habit of babbling, Miss Granger? I guess some things never change.” He bit his lip to stop the pleased smile that threatened the corners of his mouth. “Well, in the absence of a cloak, what else do you have for me?”
“Actually, Harry sent something for you.”
His eyes narrowed. “The illustrious Mr. Potter condescended to send me a present?”
“Look…I know the two of you aren’t likely to be fast friends after years of animosity, but he really does want to help. Ollivander sold his business to another wandmaker after the war, but Harry convinced him to make one last wand before he retired.”
She slipped the ebony wand into his hand, and for the first time in almost three years, Severus felt the full potency of his magic. He understood why they feared him. With his wand in hand, he could reduce their tenuous peace to ash with a few idle flicks of his wrist. They’d never believe he had no interest in harming people. The fact that Potter provided him with a new wand was a surprising show of trust. He slipped the wand into his sleeve.
“Please give my thanks to Mr. Potter. His gift is very…considerate.”
Her smile was brilliant. “I’ll be sure to tell him. Now…I have two more gifts for you.”
She handed him a small package wrapped in brown paper and twine. He turned it over in his hands and shook it gently, his brows furrowing as he tried to guess the contents.
“They’re seeds and cuttings from the greenhouses at Hogwarts. Neville is working as Professor Sprout’s apprentice, and he wanted to be sure you’d have the essentials to start your new potions garden wherever you go.”
Severus shook his head in disbelief. He never would have expected this gift from the boy he belittled and scolded for years. Hermione easily picked up on his train of thought. “Neville is one of the most empathetic and forgiving people I know.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “While Mr. Longbottom may not have been the best potioneer, his knowledge of ingredients has always been superlative.”
She beamed at him, clearly taken aback by his assessment. “I’ll be sure to tell Neville that you’ll remember him for more than exploding cauldrons.”
“As long as you make it clear that the memories of exploding cauldrons will never be fully healed.”
“Of course. We wouldn’t want the dunderheads to remember you too fondly, would we?”
She reached into her bag again, pulling something from an inner pocket. “Just one left.”
She curled her hands around his and dropped a pair of cufflinks into his hand. Upon closer examination, he could see that one was plain onyx, while the other looked suspiciously like a sleeping cat curled into a ball. He could have sworn that the cat opened her eyes and winked at him before going back to sleep.
“As you’ve probably already guessed, these are from Minerva. The onyx one is a simple cufflink, but the one with the cat engraved is a portkey. Minerva has a small home in Scotland that isn’t in the magical records because it was left to her by a Muggle relative. The portkey will take you to that house should you ever be in danger.”
Severus was overwhelmed. He’d been hurt when Minerva believed the worst of him during his time as Headmaster. He couldn’t blame her, though, not when he was bound to silence and couldn’t give her any reason to suspect that he was anything other than what he seemed to be.
Hermione once again demonstrated an alarming ability to sense his thoughts. “She felt so guilty, Severus. She thought you’d never forgive her. She gave a statement in your defense for the trial, but by the time she worked up the courage to apologize in person, the Wizengamot had banned all visits and communications with imprisoned Death Eaters. Please believe me when I say that she loves you as she would her own child, Severus. No one regrets their treatment of you more than she does.”
Severus inhaled sharply, his head falling forward until his hair covered much of his face. “I forgave her long ago,” he whispered. He wasn’t prepared to process the riot of emotions in his chest, trying to distract himself by fixing the cufflinks at his wrists.
Hermione cast a tempus charm, as she knew the guards would be patrolling the perimeter of the island throughout the night. “I don’t want to rush you, but I think you’d better be making that escape now just to be safe.”
Severus felt the constriction in his chest again, and the desperate fear of never seeing her again forced the words out. “And what of your gift to me, Hermione?”
She shivered when she realized that his eyes were fixated on her lips. “Was saving your life not enough, Severus?”
He shook his head slowly. “It’s certainly not enough if there was more that you wanted to give me. Is there more, Hermione?”
She was tempted to tell him the truth, that she wanted to give him everything, but she knew how absurd it sounded. She was clearly attracted to him and wanted to spend time with him, but she also didn’t want to get in the way of his newfound freedom. She held his gaze, eyes flitting over his face for any indication that her interest was reciprocated.
Severus’ expression turned hard and distant as he mistook her silence for rejection. “I won’t trouble you anymore, Miss Granger.”
She panicked when he turned to walk away from her. “One bed!” she blurted out.
He turned slowly to look at her. “Excuse me?”
“I’m going to a cottage that I bought in Belgium, and I’d like you to come with me. The problem is that there’s only one bed.”
The smile he’d been fighting finally won out. “Two adults have been known to share a bed, Hermione.”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off Severus Snape, my former professor, much less a sexy ‘vampire’ named Armand.”
“Who said anything about keeping your hands off me?”
She smiled, feeling lighter than she had in years. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel any pressure–”
He placed a long finger over her lips. “I’m coming with you, Hermione.”
“Then let’s go home, Armand.”
He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as she disapparated them away from the place of Severus Snape’s death.
***************
Minerva breathed a sigh of relief as she wrapped her hands around her teacup. The heat radiating from the little cup slowly started thawing the bitter cold that had settled into the joints of her fingers overnight. No matter how many warming charms she cast, no one could compete with the pernicious chill of the Headmistress’ chambers.
She’d have blamed the phenomenon on the Scottish winter, but the rest of the castle was comfortable and welcoming. She was beginning to think that the castle had a vendetta against her. She shook off the absurd thought as owls swooped into the Great Hall. She smiled when a small gray envelope with Hermione’s red seal landed next to her plate. She hadn’t heard from her favorite alumna since a short note a few months ago informed her that their plan to save Severus had succeeded. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, opening the seal eagerly.
Minerva,
My apologies for waiting so long to write to you. It took me a bit longer than expected to get settled into my cottage, as I’ve been rather…distracted the last few months. I’ve finally set up my lab to continue researching methods of healing nerve damage caused by the cruciatus curse. Harry has been quite generous in allowing me to pillage the Grimmauld Place library for any useful information I can find, and I’ve already got plans for starting a large potions garden in spring for my ingredients.
I’m living just outside of a village with both Muggle and wizard residents, and the people are warm and welcoming. I daresay you’d find it pleasant here. At any rate, I’m going to keep this letter short, as my husband is fussing at my elbow to write a message to you.
Yours,
Hermione
Minerva very nearly sputtered her tea all over the table when she read the word “husband,” drawing a number of curious looks from the faculty. Her mind was reeling: Since when had Hermione been married? She’d given no indication that she was even dating anyone. As her eyes drifted down the page, she felt a flutter in her chest when she recognized the familiar spiky handwriting.
Minerva,
If you wish to survive the winter in your chambers, you must indulge the castle’s stubborn insistence on being serenaded. Hogwarts will only heat your apartments if you sing a song in the evening. I strongly warn you against using a recording, as Hogwarts will take great offense at any attempt at deception.
Even a simple ditty will do to make your rooms tolerable, but I will let you in on a little-known secret: Hogwarts has a soft spot for Muggle hip hop. Arthur Weasley can tell you more about it should you wish to know more. Of course, there is another option while you work on expanding your vocal repertoire. You could always spend the holidays with friends.
Yours,
Armand Prince
Minerva felt something inside the envelope, and when she turned it over, a single onyx cufflink fell into her palm. She smiled to herself, suddenly very appreciative of Deputy Headmaster Flitwick’s offer to stay at the castle over the break, as she would be spending the holidays with her two favorite former students in Belgium.