𝙻𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 II SS/HG ✔️

Bolt

Hermione paused outside of Severus's door. He had slipped from the remainder of the party without a word to anyone under the guise of escorting Professor Dumbledore to the front door—a clear hint he did not want to see Hermione any more that evening. She didn't want anybody to catch her pining so she continued on to the library. Her stomach hurt too much to sleep.

Someone had left a light on in the library. Hermione didn't mind. It meant less of a stumble through the dark. She couldn't use even a simple Lumos without a jolt through her bones.

Hermione opened the door with care. She squinted into the room and almost dropped her new book in surprise. Severus was on the sofa, glaring at her. He didn't have on his coat. It seemed as if he had just put his feet on the floor so he couldn't be caught off guard by whoever entered.

"Sorry," she whispered. "Normally people aren't in here this late."

"I noticed."

"I couldn't sleep. Nor could I read under the covers, so I came here."

Severus put his feet back on the couch, eyes narrowed her way. He picked up his book.

Hermione took the other end of the couch. He bent his knees without a word, so she could sit.

The fire sputtered as a storm rolled over the city. Hermione's hands were cold. She clasped them on top of her book.

"Thank you for coming," she said.

"It was required."

"And thank you. For earlier." She looked at him but he continued to read.

He didn't say anything. She settled into the opposite corner.

"I didn't anticipate he would strike you," Severus said. Or maybe she imagined it. He hadn't said it very loud.

"Could've fooled me! You grabbed him before I even realized," Hermione said.

"I know what it looks like when someone is about to slap another."

His jaw was set in a sharp line. His eyes didn't move over the page anymore.

The windows rattled.

"This has been a stressful break," she admitted.

His dark eyes stabbed into hers. "This has been a stressful everything."

A grin crept across her face. "Was your other party more or less hectic?"

He rolled his eyes before they returned to his book. "Different but no less…annoying."

Severus had his hair pushed behind one of his ears. With his coat upstairs in his room, Hermione could see his pale throat. Along with being buttoned-up from head to toe, Severus acted it—so the two of them slouching on the couch—Hermione liked it.

She Summoned two blankets from across the room. She snuggled beneath her plaid one. The blue one draped over Severus's feet.

The pain receded. That, and the warmth of the blanket and her new jumper, put Hermione to sleep halfway through 'Babbity Rabbity and the Cackling Stump.'

Severus watched Hermione succumb to sleep. First, she bunched part of the quilt under her head as a pillow. Her eyes drooped. She had the wherewithal to close the heavy leather book first.

Then she was out.

Severus felt the wand hidden in his sleeve.

This time last year, he was certain what form his Patronus would take. But…perhaps he didn't love Lily anymore. He covered his face with one shaking hand.

But if he didn't love her anymore, what good was he? What good was left in him?

Lily was the only thing…tethering him to a semblance of being a good man.

The only thing to redeem him.

Severus set the book on the floor. He curled into the couch to shield against the firelight.

After—petulantly—trying to avoid it, he reached down for the extra blanket Hermione had Summoned. He pulled it over himself.

…

Mrs Snape was the sole reason Severus's neck was not stiff as a Quidditch bench when he woke a few hours later.

Severus's nose was pointed into the musty couch. As soon as he remembered where he had slept, he knew why he was awake: Someone else was in the room.

The embers in the fire rustled.

Muttering—low muttering and a need to stoke the fire in each room. Severus relaxed. It was Black's bedraggled house-elf.

Thin strains of dawn cut through the windows. Severus watched Kreacher sidle from the room.

Hermione lay in the same space, but more sprawled, then Severus remembered. Her hair hung over the sofa's edge and onto the floor.

How she managed to go through life with that much hair, Severus could not figure out. Most nights were spent locked in a heated battle with her brush. Merlin knew how long it took to make it behave in the shower.

In the night, Severus had stretched further down the couch. His calves and feet were now under her quilt. Hermione's feet pressed against the back of his knees.

Even from here he could see the freckles on her nose.

This had not been Severus's worst Christmas.

With that thought, he set about disentangling himself from the couch. The temperature difference outside of their blanket cocoon was sharp. He put on his shoes, returned the book to the right shelf, and exited the library with his wife none the wiser. He gathered his coat from the bedroom he had claimed and left Grimmauld Place before any other witch or wizard was conscious.

He couldn't be near Hermione anymore. She—she didn't deserve any of this. Fletcher's advances, Moody's craze—everyone asking how Severus had beat her or duped her—Severus watching her while she slept. None of that.

Severus waited until the house disappeared behind him. He could not see Yaxley or Rowle. And they could not see him.

He returned to Hogwarts.