The Power of Pain

Chapter 39

Severus leaned down, gently pulling the pillow from her tight grasp. Her arms moved out searchingly but he guided them closer to her form then he gave the blanket a sharp tug pulling it from under the mattress.

Hermione started to turn onto her back, her eye lids fluttering briefly before he wrapped the blanket tighter around her. His arm moved under her wrapped frame and slowly drew her up. Her head rested just under his chin as he pulled her legs up next.

Wrapped in his overly large blanket, he straightened himself up holding her close to his chest. He flicked his fingers to his door opening it silently. With another small shift so as not to trip in the blanket, he made for the stairs.

He made it to the living room without incident, the girl—woman; in his arms remained peacefully unaware of the change of scenery as he moved to his chair. He paused before deciding the lounge was more suitable. He sat down slowly, he hadn't the faintest of idea on what he was doing. His eyes searching into the heavens, looking for any sort of resolution.

Everything inside him was screaming at him to stop, that it would only lead to more pain. That everything he was doing was just destined to end in his inevitable failure. He closed his eyes, the voices in his mind were so loud, so disorienting.

His hold unconsciously grew stronger as he tried to push them all away. He shook his head trying to clear away his insecurities. His vision blurred when he looked into her face. Wrapped up in his blanket, so safe, so warm and completely protected from everything. He knew it wouldn't last, it never did, something was bound to take this moment from her. From him.

He couldn't. He wasn't strong enough. He was a coward. Through and through, a coward. His lament rolled down his cheek and he grimaced. After all he had done, after all he had promised to do. He couldn't, it wasn't who he was.

The idea of what he could be was more terrifying than what he had been. More than anything he had ever done. More than any dark deed he had ever performed. It all paled in comparison to what he could be. What he could choose.

He had no master now, no one to place the blame upon. He was his own man. His life was in his own hands. The choices he would make, were fully and truly, his own.

He let out a slow breath bringing his head back down. It was like he was seeing her completely anew. Her young face had gone, leaving behind the features of a woman. The soft lines of age were so clear now around her eyes and along her jaw. Not wrinkles no, but the lines that came with the passing of one part of your life to the next. As one came fully into their own. He couldn't recall her younger visage any longer.

Gently, he pushed away the blanket from her face tucking it behind her head then, with great care, pulled her hair from the confines watching it curl and bounce against gravity. It had tamed, in time, the frizz and inexperience of youth had gone, leaving behind a lighter mass of beautiful tendrils. How had he never noticed? How had he been so blind?

Snape tightened his jaw, his hand followed the fold parting more; the vein in her neck pulsed against the back of his exploring fingers. They didn't linger as his eye caught sight of her hand. It was small but strong. Her fingers flexed in her sleep and he watched the veins move on the back. His finger lightly traced the ridge watching with rapt attention as her fingers sought his own, a gentle smile growing on her lips, he pulled back not wanting to disturb her.

Hermione turned and wiggled her legs before managing to get herself onto her side. It was a very awkward position for the both of them. Severus knew it wouldn't be best to remain as they were and with a small effort, lifted her from his lap resting her on the back of the lounge. He hissed slightly when she pushed against his lap while she rearranged her position.