Desperate Measures

For a few moments, the world narrowed to nothing more than the feel of Charlie Weasley’s lips on hers, but when his hand moved lower to pull her against him more intimately, everything that had been right one second was wrong the next, and she pulled away.

“What?” he said, reaching for her. “I thought…”

“I’m sorry,” she said, stepping back, putting more distance between them. “I’m so sorry, Charlie. I never should have…this is all my fault.” She was backing away, fighting the urge to scrub his kiss from her mouth like a little child, knowing he would take it personally – that he wouldn’t understand that it was her own guilt rather than his touch that she wanted to wipe away.

“Whoa,” Charlie said, chuckling. “What do you mean ‘fault’? I thought it was rather brilliantmyself.”

“It was,” she said, though the truth was that she felt rather nauseous. “But, I’m married, and you’re – well, I don’t know if you’re married or not, but things are complicated with you right now. This just isn’t right.”

“Oh, come on, Hermione. I don’t believe you’re really married – not in any way that matters here.” He gestured between them. “And I’m not going to be married for much longer, and it’s certainly not like Elspeth is in any position to object. She’d probably be happy for us, come to that. She’s always liked you.”

Hermione was unable to find the smallest particle of comfort in that thought. “It does matter,” she said. “My marriage, at least, matters to me. It’s not…conventional, I’ll grant you, but I still made – well – a promise. I couldn’t live with myself if I broke it.” She felt real regret as she said the words and watched the disappointment make its way across Charlie’s open, honest features. Charlie Weasley was all warmth and good-humour, and the flame-coloured hair and many freckles worked at her subconscious, conjuring many of the same fond feelings she had for Ron. There was love there, certainly, and treasured history, and Charlie was wrapped up in all of that and – apparently – hers for the taking. But looming between them was a man who was Charlie’s antithesis - stark and chill, complicated and deceptive. The memories he conjured were almost entirely negative, but in spite of all of that, she had bound herself to him, and she felt a responsibility to honour that bond.

“I understand,” Charlie said, and then he shook his head. “No, that’s a lie. I don’t understand it at all. But I respect you for it, even if it doesn’t make a damned bit of sense to me. I admit, I can’t help but wonder if Snape really deserves such loyalty, but maybe he does. You must know him better than I do by now.”

“Yes,” Hermione said. “I think…he’s a good man, Charlie. Deep down.”

Charlie laughed. “Deep. Right.”

“He’s kept his promises to me,” she said, feeling suddenly defensive. “And he’s wonderful with Curt.”

“I’m glad,” Charlie said simply. “And I’m sorry about what happened just now. I was out of line. It won’t happen again.”

“Still friends, I hope?”

“Of course. But I’d probably better get back to work and leave you to whatever you needed to do. I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” she echoed, not bothering to walk him to the door. She wasn’t entirely sure her knees would make the trip and, in fact, she collapsed into Severus’s chair the minute the door closed behind Charlie. What had just happened? Had she really just chosen Severus over Charlie?

Severus had made it clear that he wasn’t promising her fidelity, but she’d never even considered being unfaithful to him. Of course, that might have been because she hadn’t thought the opportunity at all likely to present itself. And until she’d felt Charlie’s touch, she hadn’t realized that she even desired intimacy with a man. Her sexual impulses, which had gone rather dormant as she adjusted to the rigours of caring for a young baby, had been awakened by Charlie’s kiss, and the temptation he’d presented had been strong indeed.

Honesty compelled her to admit, however, that any reasonably attractive man might have presented the same temptation. She wasn’t in love with Charlie. She cared for him, cared for his whole family, but she didn’t think she could ever love him. She certainly couldn’t live with him. He would drive her batty before a week was out. Weasleys were happy when surrounded by chaos, but she preferred Severus’s quiet ways…

She preferred Severus…  

She was thunderstruck by the thought. Was such a thing even possible?

She wasn’t in love with Severus any more than she was with Charlie, but shewas beginning to enjoy his quiet companionship. His efforts with Curt, despite his own insecurities, had first softened her opinion of him, and more recently he’d begun to let her see flashes of subtle humour that made conversations with him a pleasure. His insights into the people and workings of Hogwarts were not only amusing but spot-on, showing that he understood more of human nature than she had ever credited him with. She admired his commitment to his craft and to the school, regardless of how much he grumbled about the latter. He would never be a handsome man, of course, but neither was he repulsive to her as he had been when she was a child. It helped that she’d fallen in love with his eyes as they looked up at her from her baby’s sweet face and with his hands as they had soothed that same child’s cries.

They had agreed to live together for one year, and Hermione had already realized that she might be willing to extend that period, for Curt’ssake, she’d thought. They got along well enough and were working in the same place anyway, so why not let Curt have the benefit of living with both of his parents?

Why not, indeed?

The main problem with the plan, as Hermione now saw it, was that she wasn’t sure she could commit to living an asexual existence indefinitely. And if she wanted to live with Severus but wasn’t willing to be unfaithful to him, then that meant…

 She put her face in her hands and made a choked sound somewhere between laughing and crying. When had life gotten so confusing?

§ § § §

Severus was gone for almost two more days, giving Hermione a little time to adjust to the fact that she thought she just might have a crush on her husband. Maybe. A little.

But what was she to do about it? That was what she couldn’t figure out. She’d never been terribly good at flirting, at playing the games women played to ‘get a man.’ She’d found that to be a silly business, perhaps because the specifics had always eluded her. She had a feeling that those methods wouldn’t work on Severus Snape anyway. And besides, she’d already got him…sort of. They had an agreement, but he’d done nothing to make her think he’d welcome her complicating that agreement with a bunch of unrequited feelings. He was just tolerating her because he wanted to be with Curt. Suddenly, that thought depressed her.

To make matters worse, things had been awkward with Charlie, and she was fairly certain that Rosa and Irma, at least, had noticed. She knew she and Charlie would grow comfortable again in time, just as they’d got past their argument two months before, but she was afraid Severus would notice the current awkwardness and just might guess what had happened between them. He was not as oblivious to interpersonal nuance as she once had thought, and it was very difficult just then for her to act naturally around Charlie. She couldn’t imagine what Severus’s reaction would be if he knew what had happened. She didn’t think he’d rant and storm and challenge Charlie to a duel, yet she had the feeling he wouldn’t exactly be pleased, either.

 She would just have to do the best she could, and if Severus should ask her about Charlie, she would tell the truth. That was all there was to that. She would tell him that it had been a mistake, that it wouldn’t happen again. She wouldn’t lie. But she reallyhoped it wouldn’t come up. As Hermione contemplated how to behave when she next saw her husband again, Severus was eating a substandard hotel breakfast and plotting his escape from the tedium of the International Wizards Conference. He had hidden himself away in one corner of the banquet room in what he knew would be a futile attempt to avoid Albus. He suspected the Headmaster had put some sort of tracking charm on him, for every time he had attempted to sneak off by himself Albus had popped up out of nowhere like a bearded jack-in-the-box and dragged him back into a crowd of people.

He had finished his breakfast and was thinking that he just might make his escape when his eyes were assaulted by a set of garish robes topped by a ridiculous quantity of white hair. He sighed.

“There you are Severus. I was looking for you. I thought we might partner in the archery tournament this afternoon.” Albus settled across from Severus at the breakfast table and helped himself to tea.

Severus glared at him. “Certainly not,” he snapped. “I did not survive Voldemort only to be dispatched by some drunken wizard with a Cupid complex.”

“Come, come, Severus,” Albus said heartily. “You need to enjoy yourself more. You’ve hardly come out of your room except for the meetings. It’s the last day – join us.”

“I am going back to Hogwarts,” Severus said firmly, hoping his tone conveyed the fact that he would brook no argument. He had sat through every mind-numbing meeting Albus had signed him up for and had even endured an overlong speech the previous night by none other than Harry Potter. It had been rendered incomprehensible by poorly chosen Quidditch analogies, but the crowd had still hung on Potter’s every word and babbled excitedly as he’d left the podium. The entire evening had set Severus’s teeth on edge.

Now, the business of the conference had now been conducted. This last day was devoted to social events, and he drew the line at wasting his time with those.

“You’ll miss all the fun.”

“I certainly hope so.”

“Last year, Minerva and I partnered for the sack race,” Albus reminisced, smiling at the memory.

Severus snorted. “You and Minerva in the sack together. A mental image I could have lived without, frankly.”

“Yes, well…” Albus cleared his throat, giving Severus a disapproving look. “It’s archery this year, and I think you’d enjoy watching, even if you don’t want to participate. The point of you coming here was for you to get to know people…to network, as the Muggles call it. You’re in a position of substantial authority now, Severus, and one day…”

“Oneyear,” Severus interrupted. “I told you very clearly I’d do this for one year.”

“Yes, I do recall your saying that,” Albus said lightly. “Very well, then. I suppose you’re wanting to get home to Hermione and Curt anyway. Selfish of me to keep a newlywed away from home. Missed them, have you?”

“Oh, don’t be daft, Albus. I’m perfectly capable of being away from home for three days.” He spoke in his usual acid tones, but he found that he couldn’t quite meet the Headmaster’s perceptive gaze. The truth was that to his own surprise, he had missed Curt, and – yes, damn it – he’d missed Hermione as well. He’d missed their evening rituals with Curt, and he’d missed Hermione’s company after Curt went to sleep. Usually they just read quietly, each in his or her respective chair, and he’d grown used to the sound of her quill as she underlined passages or scratched notes in the margins. Occasionally she would read something out loud to him, and a few moments of discussion would follow. It wasn’t much, really, but it was so much more than he’d ever known. Never in his adult life had he had someone to come home to.

So yes, he’d missed them, but there was no point in mooning about it, especially to Albus. “I just want to get out of here,” he said pointedly.

“Very well, Severus.” Albus gave him a knowing smile. “Go back to Hogwarts. I’ll make your excuses here. I probably won’t make it back until tomorrow myself. I’ve arranged to have dinner with an old friend before I go back.”

“Fine, fine,” Severus said, rising from the table before Albus could change his mind. “We won’t wait up. Just be there before the term starts. I’ve no intention of giving that speech for you.”

 Albus chuckled. “I think I can safely make that promise.”

§ § § §

Severus hurried back to his room and had his trunk packed within minutes. He wasn’t about to give Albus the chance to change his mind. And besides, if he left then, he’d arrive back at Hogwarts just as Curt was due to get up from his morning nap.

He was within seconds of leaving when there came a knock at the door. He swore under his breath as he went to answer it and then stepped backward, unable to hide his surprise at finding Harry Potter at the threshold.

“Professor,” Harry greeted him tersely.

“Potter,” Severus replied with the barest of nods. “To what do I owe the honour?”

“I think you know.”

“Let me guess – you want me to partner with you in this afternoon’s archery tournament,” Severus said with a smirk, recovering himself.

Harry scoffed. “I wouldn’t be caught dead at that thing. I’m Disapparating out of this place the first chance I get.

“As am I,” Severus said, gesturing to his trunk, which was packed and waiting near the door. “So if you could come to some sort of a point…?”

“C’mon, Snape. You know what I want to talk about: It’s Hermione, of course. I want to know how she’s doing.”

“In that case, one would think it might occur to you to owl her and ask. I do permit her to receive the post, assuming it doesn’t interfere with her duties.”

“Her duties!” Harry exclaimed. “Permit her! You…you…disgusting…” Harry reached for his wand, and Severus automatically mirrored the movement.

“That you could possibly be stupid enough to think I was being serious simply boggles the mind, Potter,” he drawled, sounding more confident than he felt. An enraged Harry Potter was a force to be reckoned with, however little Severus liked to admit it. “It also, incidentally, shows that you don’t know your friend at all.”

“We all know that she was so crazy over that baby that she’d have agreed to anything you suggested if you’d threatened to take him away,” Harry said through gritted teeth.

Severus’s eyes narrowed. “This may be difficult for you to wrap your feeble mind around, Potter, but marriage was heridea.”

“She proposed to you?” Harry blinked.

“Ask her yourself.”

“I will, someday,” Harry said evenly. “In the meantime, how is she? Really.”

“She’s fine, or was when I left. I suggest again that you ask her yourself. Contrary to what you seem to think, I do not have her chained in the dungeons.”

“No, Charlie told us Dumbledore had set you up with a new set of rooms,” Harry said grudgingly.

“Ah, I’d forgotten you had an inside source of information. Pray, what has Weasley had to say against me?”

“Nothing, actually,” Harry admitted. “He said Hermione seems happy. It’s just that none of the rest of us has heard from her in ages. It’s not like her to stay away so long.”

“You have children, Potter. Perhaps you’ve noticed that they can be rather time-consuming. And when Hermione hasn’t been busy with the child, she’s been doing her own research and getting ready for next term. It’s just possible that you and your army of red-headed relatives haven’t been at the very centre of her attention.”

“We’d like to see her.”

“I’ll pass your message along, since you seem incapable of delivering it yourself.” Severus looked pointedly at the door then, and Harry nodded and stepped backward, taking the hint.

“She deserves more,” Harry said coldly, standing out in the hallway. “She deserves to have everything.”

Severus stiffened. “Perhaps she will one day,” he said, and then he shut the heavy door.

 He’d been ready to walk out the door, but he delayed a moment, wanting to be sure he didn’t run into Potter again when he left. Truth be told, Potter’s words had had more of an effect on him that he cared to admit. He hadn’t realized that Hermione hadn’t been in touch with any of her friends. It hadn’t occurred to him to ask. He had lived in isolation for so long that it had become his natural state, but it wasn’t something he would intentionally inflict on Hermione – or on Curt. It was only for a year, but he’d learnt early and well the amount of damage one’s personal relationships could sustain in a short period of time. At the end of her year with Severus, Hermione would still have Curt, but would she have anyone else? Was it even his business to care? He had no idea.

He sighed and reached for his wand so that he could reduce his trunk and Apparate home. He would give Hermione Potter’s message and see where the conversation went from there.

He could not help thinking that life had been much simpler when he’d been alone in his dungeons.

§ § § §

 He made straight for the castle when he arrived back at Hogwarts, and in his hurry to get to his rooms, he almost didn’t notice Hermione rounding the corner toward the Greenhouses, pushing Curt in his pram. He stopped short when he did catch sight of her, and for a moment he debated whether he should approach them. The conversation with Potter was weighing on him, and as much as he wanted to see his son, avoiding Hermione would be something of a relief just then.

She’d have to be faced eventually, however, so he decided to get it over with. He left his trunk near the entrance to the castle and strode toward the Greenhouses, calling her name once he was within hearing distance.

She looked up, obviously startled, but he was gratified by the smile that spread across her face when she saw who had hailed her.

“Severus!” she exclaimed, stopping and letting him catch up. “You’re back early.”

“I couldn’t take another minute,” he said, peeking into the pram and noting with disappointment that Curt was asleep. “Am I interrupting?”

“Of course not,” she said. “It’s nice to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back,” he said. “Of course, that’s not the compliment it might be, had I not spent my days away mired in abject boredom.”

She laughed. “Was it really that bad?”

“It was worse. Whatever Minerva was paid, it wasn’t enough,” he said, and then he changed the subject. “How’s Curt?”

“He’s wonderful. He’ll be glad to see you.” She nodded down the path. “Would you like to keep walking or turn back to the flat?”

“We can walk.”

They turned together and began walking, winding their way through Rosa’s garden, which was an explosion of colour in the bright summer sun. “We went to visit my parents while you were gone,” Hermione said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

“Oh?”

“Mmm hmm. It was a little hard at first, but in the end, it was good. I’m glad we went.”

“Good.” He wasn’t sure what else to say.

“They invited Curt and me to go with them on vacation in a few weeks. Er, I’m sure you’d be welcome too, of course. It’s just that you weren’t with me and…”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Well, you know…they just haven’t met you...”

He snorted at that. “Yes, I’m sure that meeting me would solve everything. Tell me, did they express an interest in meeting me?”

“Uh, no - not exactly - but we didn’t really talk about all of that. Mostly they just got to know Curt a little better.”

“Then they’ve met the best of the Snapes already. You needn’t worry about me ruining your vacation.”

“You wouldn’t ruin it,” she protested. “You really are welcome.”

“So where are you going?” he asked, ignoring her invitation.

“Mykonos,” she said, sounding pleased. “Mum and Dad will be there for two weeks – it’s the only time of the year they really get away from their practice, and they try to go someplace different every year. Curt and I wouldn’t have to go the whole time, of course. I mean, if you’d rather Curt not be away that long, I would understand.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “You might as well enjoy yourselves. I’m going to be busy that close to the start of the new term and probably won’t have much time anyway.”

“Is there anything I can help with?” she asked.

“I don’t know yet,” he said. “Possibly.”

He glanced down at her and thought she looked pleased that he’d considered her offer. “Well, let me know,” she said, smiling at him again. She seemed to be smiling more than usual. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“I had an interesting visitor to my room just before I left the conference,” he ventured.

“Really? Who?”

“I suppose I should be honoured,” he said. “It was none other than world-famous Harry Potter.”

“Really? What was Harry doing there? I mean, I assume he was attending the conference, but what was he doing in your room?”

“Yes, he was attending the conference. I managed to avoid him until he landed on my doorstep, but I had to suffer through his speech last night. He’s still a complete dunderhead, of course.”

“Severus…”

“Come now, Hermione, be honest: has he ever gone longer than seven seconds without mentioning the game of Quidditch?”

Hermione burst out laughing. “Yes, as a matter of fact, he has. There were plenty of times when we were students here when Harry had much more important things to think and talk about than Quidditch – as you well know. I’ll admit that in these last few years, though, he’s become a bit of a fanatic. Making up for lost time, I suppose. Of course, with me, he talks about Ginny and their girls more than he talks about Quidditch.”

“Well, I was spared that, thank fortune, but I still could hardly call our visit a pleasant one. Apparently the combined brain-power of the Potter-Weasley clan has determined that you would never have married me without coercion. Furthermore, Potter seemed to think I was deliberately keeping you away from them.”

“Why that…that...prat!” Hermione spluttered. She stopped the pram and turned to Severus, her hands on her hips. “You mean he had the nerve to find you and accuse you of…what? Tricking me? Using a potion? What?”

“The gist of the conversation was that I had employed emotional blackmail.” Severus said, glancing at a nearby rosebush. “I told him that you had proposed to me.”

“Good!” Hermione said firmly. “I hope that shut him up.”

“It did, more or less.” Severus turned to her. “But…”

“But what?”

“It occurs to me that he’s not far wrong.” He kept his expression neutral. “You certainly would not have suggested marriage had you not feared losing Curt.”

“No…” Hermione said slowly. “But you told me before we married that you hadn’t planned to take Curt away. And then you left us a loophole, in case things didn’t work out. I certainly do not feel blackmailed, Severus.”

“All the same…” He cleared his throat. “All the same, I’m willing to move back to the dungeons if you’d prefer it. I don’t want your friends – and certainly your parents – thinking that I’ve somehow bound you against your will. I’m not a very good man, but I think I’m a better man than that.”

“Bugger my friends!” Hermione snapped. “If they care so bloody much about me, you’d think they’d have made some effort to check up on me by now. I haven’t even had an owl from Molly, and I was just sure that she, at least, would understand. But instead it’s like I’ve dropped off the face of the earth, just because I made a decision they don’t agree with. And then to sneak behind my back and accuse you…” Hermione’s eyes flashed and for a moment Severus almost pitied Harry Potter. He would not want to be in Harry’s place when next he saw Hermione.

He chuckled at the thought, making Hermione even more furious. “This is not funny,” she insisted, glowering at him.

“I was just wishing I could be a fly on the wall the next time you see Potter,” he explained, and Hermione’s face softened.

“If you keep laughing at me, you just might get your wish,” she said. She tried to sound threatening, but a smile teased the corners of her mouth.

“That aside,” he went on, “my offer still stands. You have legal rights to Curt now, and I think we can work together on his behalf whether we’re living together or not. We probably could have found another solution in the beginning, had we tried a bit harder.”

“It was so difficult,” Hermione said softly. “We didn’t…know each other at all then.”

“No,” he agreed.

Hermione glanced at Curt and bit her bottom lip. “Would you rather go back to the dungeons?”

She looked up at him, and he swallowed hard. “I amwilling to,” he said carefully, “if that’s what you’d prefer.”

She hesitated, giving him a searching look. “Um, I think I’d really rather you’d stay…if that’s all right.”

He was surprised, but he merely nodded and said, “Very well.”

He wanted to stay. She wanted him to stay. They’d both just admitted as much. She smiled at him again, and as they resumed their walk, he had the uneasy feeling that something significant had just transpired.