Hope For Better

15. Morals Be Damned

“It seems as though she's experiencing new side effects from the curse.” 

“What the hell does that mean?” Severus growled at Poppy. 

Hermione was passed out in Snape's lap as the mediwitch ran diagnostics over her body. After the equivalent of a muggle psych eval, it was made clear that her recent obsession with self mutilation wasn't her own psychological issues. It was an unforeseen side effect, it must have been. Of course, the curse was completely unique so it took Madam Pomfrey a good week to figure it out. Hermione had been sedated the entire time so that she couldn't cause any more damage to her perfect body. 

“Hush now boy, let the witch speak.” Minerva scolded, nodding to poppy to continue. 

“Well as I was saying before I was so RUDELY interrupted,” She barely noticed the sneer Severus shot at her, “it looks like the curse can't be sated merely by physical closeness. You mentioned before that you were trying to distance yourself emotionally?”

“Yes. I was getting too close, too attached. My feelings for the girl were becoming… less than decent. The sheer inappropriateness of it all… Gods… I couldn't let myself do that to her.” It was the most honest he could have been.

“You can't do that anymore. Emotional distance is just as deadly to her as physical distance, only instead of her body growing weak, her mind becomes unstable. The aspect of death becomes appealing, and the feeling of pushing herself closer to death becomes pure ecstasy and it keeps feeling better and better until she causes her own demise in search of that reprieve from the constant rejection that the bond forces her to feel, because she does feel like you're rejecting her. Don't you understand Severus? She's completely bonded to you. Her mind, her body, every fiber of her being craves you. And you have the curse as well so you must want her too don't you?”

“Obviously.” 

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Severus’ mind kept drifting back to a week prior. He had finally let go, finally gave himself something he wanted. The feeling of her lips against his own had been the most amazing feeling. His heart pounded in his chest and his brain all but shut off completely. The only thing he could think about in that moment had been his growing affections for the girl. Morals be damned, he wanted her. 

His heart almost shattered when he saw the thin pink lines adorning her lovely body. He thought he would keel over purely out of grief when she was genuinely confused as to why he was upset about it. His throat grew sore from the loud sobs he couldn't hold back when she tried to explain that it felt good. It took almost three hours before he had calmed down enough to floo Poppy and another hour before he could talk without stuttering and sobbing before he could explain what was going on. He couldn't fathom why Hermione was upset that he had bothered Poppy and the girl sat with her nose in a book, refusing to speak to either of the adults in the room. 

He didn't know if he would feel this way if they hadn't been cursed, and that was part of the reason he had been holding back. But a cure wouldnt come in their lifetime. They would live together and they would die together, so what was the point in denying feelings that would never go away, even if those feelings might not have come from his own desires, but rather from the connection forced upon the two of them. It felt real enough either way. 

Hermione was waking up now. Severus watched as her eyelashes fluttered against her beautiful cheeks. He stroked her hair gently as her eyes slowly opened. He offered a shy smile as she took in his features above her. 

“Pro-professor?” The bushy haired girl was taking in her surroundings in a confused manner.

He pulled her to his chest in an effort to console her. Her curls tickled his chin as he rocked slightly. He relished in the feeling of her in his arms, her cheek flush against his clothed chest. He could feel her panicked breathing even out as she relaxed against him. 

“Severus, hermione. You call me Severus.” 

“Mmm Severus.” She sighed his name sleepily as she snuggled into him. She sounded almost content as she began to cling to him desperately. Her hands gripped at his robes as if she were scared he would leave her, and honestly she had a valid reason.  

“I'm here Hermione. I'm not going anywhere.” He assured her in the softest tone he could muster and he held her a little tighter when she let out a strangled sob. 

The reality of things were hitting her with a force greater than a tsunami. How could she have done that to herself and not have seen the problem. She would have permanent scars adorning her body which she was already insecure about. And she had been angry with Severus when he reacted the way he did even though his reaction was completely justified. It proved that he cared about her, that he was scared of losing her. She did that. 

“I'm so sorry. So so sorry.” She sobbed into his chest. Her grip tightened around a fist full of soft lack teaching robes.

“It's not your fault dear. It was the curse.” He kissed the top of her head. As much as he hated seeing her in such distress, he couldn't help but be glad that she finally understood what she had done, and he was sure that as long as he didn't try to detach from her, she wouldn't do it again. 

Despite his assurances, she still shook as silent sobs racked her frail, tired body. He stroked her wet cheek gently with the pad of his thumb. 

“Look at me Hermione.” She did as she was told and he had to hold back his own sob as a slow tear fell over her temple and into her messy hair. “It was not your fault, and I will not let it happen again.”

He shifted her up slightly before silently searching her eyes for permission. Of course he didn't need to do that because her mind was racing with thoughts of him and one stood out. ‘Please kiss me.’ And he had no problem leaning down and pressing his lips against her own, fulfilling her silent request. 

Morals be damned.