The Crimson Thread

TOUCH

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In the days following Severus’s awakening, Hermione took meticulous care of him. The Order decided it was best not to stress him by revealing their true relationship. Instead, Albus Dumbledore explained to Severus that Hermione was the new Hogwarts professor, assisting Madam Pomfrey due to a shortage of staff in the hospital wing.

“Professor Granger,” Dumbledore said warmly, “is here to help Madam Pomfrey. She’ll be taking care of you until you’re fully recovered.”

Severus's dark eyes narrowed. “Why does she look at me with such intensity?” he muttered, feeling the weight of her gaze every time she was near.

Hermione remained gentle and patient, tending to his wounds, administering potions, and even feeding him by hand. Despite his confusion and the barriers he tried to maintain, Severus found himself inexplicably drawn to her touch. Yet, he never allowed himself to show it, maintaining his stern, dark professor demeanor.

One morning, Severus awoke from the same haunting dream. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he reached out, only to find Hermione absent. Anger surged through him, and when Hermione returned, he confronted her fiercely.

“Where have you been?” he demanded, his voice cold and cutting. “Why do you keep leaving me?”

“I’m sorry, Severus,” Hermione replied softly, her eyes filled with hurt. “I had to attend to other duties.”

“I don’t need you!” Severus spat, the words biting. “Get out. Don’t come near me again.”

Tears welled in Hermione's eyes, but she held her composure. “If that’s what you want, Severus. I’ll never come back in front of you.”

She left, her heart breaking. Severus watched her go, convinced she would return as she always did after their fights. But the next morning, she was not there. Days passed, and still, she did not return. His heart ached, and he felt a crushing panic.

“Madam Pomfrey,” Severus called out one morning, his voice strained. “Why hasn’t Professor Granger been here?”

Madam Pomfrey sighed, looking at him with a mixture of sympathy and frustration. “She’s been taking care of others, Professor Snape. You told her not to come near you.

Days passed since Hermione last tended to Severus. The hospital wing felt emptier, lonelier, without her presence. Severus found himself haunted nightly by the same dream—waiting by the door, a girl promising to wait for him, kissing him. Each morning, he woke with a jolt, reaching out, only to find Hermione absent.

One morning, Severus heard a familiar, angelic laugh outside his room. Driven by a desperate need to see her, he left his bed and followed the sound. What he saw made his heart pound with a mix of anger and confusion. Hermione was talking with Lupin, her hand resting affectionately on Lupin’s arm. Lupin’s hand stroked hers gently.

Why is she touching him like that? Severus thought, a burning jealousy igniting within him. His chest tightened as he watched them, his mind racing.

Why is she with Lupin? Why is she smiling at him? Am I that unworthy of her smiles?

His heart pounded harder, his fists clenching as he turned and stormed back to his room. In a fit of rage, he began throwing everything within reach—potions, books, even the bedside table. The room was soon in disarray, reflecting the turmoil inside him.

“She’s mine,” he muttered angrily, pacing the room. “She should be here with me, not with him. Why did she leave me? Am I so repulsive that she prefers Lupin’s company?”

The thought of Hermione’s laughter, her smile directed at someone else, felt like a knife twisting in his heart. He collapsed into a chair, burying his face in his hands. The realization hit him hard—he desperately wanted Hermione’s touch, her presence.

“That woman from my dream,” he whispered to himself, “she’s waiting for me. But why can’t I remember? Why does it feel like Hermione and the woman in my dream are the same?”

He refused to eat, to take his potions, or even let the mediwitches clean his wounds. Madam Pomfrey grew increasingly concerned, but he waved her off with angry retorts and refusals.
Madam Pomfrey observed his growing agitation and went to Hermione. “He’s not taking his medicine,” she explained. “He only listens to you, Hermione. Please, come back.”

Torn, Hermione agreed.

One day, after another night plagued by the dream, Severus’s restlessness reached its peak. He could no longer stand the emptiness, the longing. He heard Hermione’s voice again, mingled with the comforting tones of Lupin’s.

Driven by a fierce need, he left his room. His heart raced as he followed the sound of her voice. As he neared, he saw Hermione laughing, her face radiant as she talked to Lupin. The sight of Lupin’s hand on hers was too much to bear.

Severus’s vision blurred with anger. He marched up to her, his face a mask of fury. “Why are you here?” he snapped, his voice trembling with emotion. “Why do you care for him and not me?”

Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise and hurt. “Severus, what are you talking about?” I am coming to see you.

“Don’t play innocent!” he shouted. “I told you to stay away, and you ran to Lupin. Why him? Am I so terrible?”

Tears welled up in Hermione’s eyes as she reached out to touch his cheek. “Severus, it’s not like that. I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you.”

But Severus pushed her hand away, his voice breaking. “Then why did you leave me? Why does it feel like you’re the one in my dreams, waiting for me?”

Hermione's heart ached at his words. “Hermione approached him gently, touching his cheek and tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. “I’m here for you, Severus,” she whispered. “I won’t go to anyone else.”

Severus closed his eyes, feeling her hand gently caress his cheek. Her touch was a balm to his wounded heart. He leaned into her hand, feeling the connection he’d been longing for.

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