Title: Tear Stains and Tooth Marks
Author: MelWil
Rating: R - scenes of a sexual nature.
Disclaimer: I do not own them
Archive: Just let me know where
Feedback: is beautiful - lina_wilson@hotmail.com
Summary: "He realised that she had left tear stains on his
cloak."
~*~
i.
They left Neville's body at the bottom of the Dungeon stairs.
Later they determined that she had been running down them, anxious to
inform Professor Snape about the latest research and her analysis.
She had felt the body before she saw it, run into it, the cold flesh
and clammy, mud coated robes bumping against her shins.
She screamed, and her echo bounced off the flat stone walls.
Snape ran from his office, frightened despite his better
judgments. Granger was cradling Longbottom's body, shaking it as if
she could restore some sense of life. He pulled her back, drew her
into him, shielded her from the terrible sight.
Other teachers, other students came. They gasped, cried, carried
on in shameful quantities. The officials came to take his body away.
They talked about telling his grandmother, about telling his parents.
Potter took her away from him, placing an arm around her shoulder
and guiding her up the stairs.
Later, in the dim candlelight of his room, he realised that she
had left tear stains on his cloak.
ii.
He sought her out before the Graduation Ceremony. She was dressed
in red robes, a yellow sash draped over the front. She was graduating
as the top student in her class, a great honour despite the reduced
numbers that would stand around her.
"Will your parents be there?"
She nodded. "They came up by the special train."
He handed her a small box, wrapped in green with a gold ribbon. "I
wanted to give you a small gift."
She was surprised, unable to speak as she undid the ribbon.
He had given her a delicate silver charm bracelet, the first charm
a tiny cauldron. "So you remember." He said as she pulled it from the
box. "Good luck Miss Granger."
He left before she was able to say thank you.
He did not look at her when he took his place among the Hogwarts
teachers and he was back in his office before the celebrations were
completed. The graduating students left without final comment from
their Potions Master.
iii.
He didn't see her for eight years.
He stayed in his dungeons, teaching new classes of students, each
more loathsome than the last. He ignored the politics and general
goings on of the school, becoming almost as elusive as Trelawny.
(School gossip paired him with Trelawny. He ignored the stupidity.)
Sometimes, usually after hearing an anecdote of Potter's latest
victory, he asked about Granger.
She was continuing to learn, he heard. She had been accepted by an
exclusive institute, was undertaking research that would change the
history of magical studies. She was dating, then living with the
youngest Weasley boy. She had broken up with him.
Dumbledore called him into his office. "Minerva has been asked to
be the Minister of Magic. Would you take on the deputy position?"
So this was promotion. He thought about it for a day and then gave
Albus his assent. "Who will take Transfiguration lessons?"
"Hermione Granger has agreed to take the position."
"Isn't she . . . rather young?"
"You were younger when you took up your position, Severus."
iv.
She arrived a week before the students, taking the all stops train
to Hogsmeade and walking up to the school.
He waited, unseen in the shadows, as she was greeted by
Dumbledore.
"Welcome back to Hogwarts, Hermione."
"It certainly is nice to be back, Albus."
Snape came to her doorway an hour after she arrived. He knocked
once and stepped inside on her command. She was unpacking books,
stacking them into tall bookcases. He noticed that she had arranged
them by subject matter and then alphabetically.
"It's good to see you again, Professor Granger." He caught sight
of himself in the ornate mirror next to her desk. He looked older
than he should.
"And you, Professor Snape." She took his hand and he noticed that
she was wearing the charm bracelet. There were more charms on it now.
"You should call me Severus now."
She laughed. "Then you should call me Hermione."
The corner of his mouth twitched and for a moment he thought he
might smile. "Of course, Hermione."
v.
Dumbledore's eyes were grave as he told the teachers what he had
learnt.
Sinistra sobbed. Binns moaned. Sprout gasped.
Hermione's eyes were red for two weeks.
On the night she heard she wandered the Hogwarts' castle
restlessly. She found herself in the Dungeons again, hovering around
the spot where she fell over Neville's body.
"Did they tell you anymore than we were told?" He was standing in
the shadows, watching her.
She shook her head. "No." She knelt down and touched the stone
floor. Neville's blood had been drained before they dumped the body.
"Sirius said Ron was too shook up to say much. They barely knew
anything at all."
"What about his wife? His son?"
"Ginny and James are fine. They moved them to a secret location."
She smiled at him, a wry, tired smile that he had never seen before.
"You'll endure another Potter yet."
He ignored the bait. "What about you?"
She shrugged her shoulders, hopeless and lost. "I don't know."
He caught her as she began to cry. Caught her and held her as
close to him as he dared.
vi.
She was in his bed three months later.
She came to him after midnight, as the winter wind rushed through
the castle and sensible people had bed covers drawn to their chins.
She stood at his door, her cloak pulled tight around her, her face
barely lit by the dim candlelight.
She looked at him and he nodded and she kissed him.
Her mouth was hot, and her hands were cold as they grasped the
back of his neck, pulling him into her. He pulled her towards the
bed, and kissed the length of her body as he slipped her cloak off.
She removed is nightshirt, tearing a button off in her haste, and
bent forward to kiss his chest. Her hair fanned out around her head
and tickled. He laughed, and it was genuine and joyful and ghastly.
She lay back on the bed as his hands explored her, arched forward
as they cupped around her breasts and his fingers pulled at her
nipples, and again as his hands rested on the top of her legs. She
squirmed as he kissed the soles of her feet.
She pulled him down on top of her, pulled him closer to her, and
finally - she was his.
In the morning, she left him with written promises to return.
She had left tear stains on his pillow and tooth marks on his
shoulder.
*The End* - - - - - - - - -
Story notes: I tried to call Harry's son something other than
James, but no party would cooperate. (And Horatio Potter sounded so
good too . . .)
Thanks to Liz for the great advice *g*.