The Power of Pain

Chapter 45

Severus carried Hermione through the back door without pause. He had managed to get them home without further incident, though Minerva had done her utmost to see that she would escort them; he had made it very clear he didn't want to see any of them at present.

His mind was rioting against the words Harry had spoken, their lingering hidden meaning hadn't been lost on him and he had tried to assure himself that he hadn't changed—but even he, could not believe such a falsehood.

His eyes turned down to the woman who had turned his reality on its end. Her passive face, her long lashes resting against the slope of her cheek, her lips lightly parted wafting a bit of hair trapped between them.

Hermione shifted and pressed her face closer to his chest, flexing her legs when they brushed the door frame and took in a deep breath opening her eyes to the dim light of the hallway.

"Bath...bed..." Hermione wanted nothing more than to rinse away all the memories of the day. Her head ached and her body thrummed with the restorative potions he had given her. She could also feel the vault growing weaker, small memories were slipping from around the crack dissolving into the whiteness, lost before she could even dare to look but the feeling they carried inside stayed with her.

She heard Severus' low hum of agreement and closed her eyes again as he took the stairs. When she felt herself being sat down she reopened her eyes to the pale blue walls of her room. She pouted but understood it was the most logical choice. She ran her hands over his chest feeling the ripple of muscle shift beneath the thin layer of his shirt.

"I can manage." She said kindly letting her hands fall to her lap as he stood.

"I'll be downstairs. Should you need me." He paused as if reluctant to leave her but a look to her face stilled his concern.

Hermione watched his back as he left. He looked tired, she could see that he tried to hide it but it was there, in his slight shift of his hips as he favored one leg and the slight almost imperceivable arch near his neck. She hugged herself, never wanting to leave the warmth of his coat, she gathered her energy with a small yawn and smiled into the collar, breathing in deeply.

Severus moved into the kitchen, setting his potions chest on the table. His mind had calmed somewhat from the lingering burn her touch had left over his chest and it allowed him to focus on his task. He pulled out the empty vials and replaced the others setting them neatly and precisely in their place.

He turned to the ice box pulling out an apple and took a knife, taking the time to cut it by hand. He could feel her wand humming against his thigh, singing a soft tune to the one strapped to his forearm. He paused and slowly pulled her wand from his pocket watching the wood roll gently in his palm. It was indeed powerful and when he welded it he had never felt such control or precision. It was truly a wand to be revered. He could tell its allegiance still laid with her and he bowed his head in respect to having been allowed to use it on her behalf. The wand glowed softly before going still again. He slipped it back into his pocket resuming to his task as the pipes rattled over head.

Hermione sighed softly as the warm water ran down over her head. She carded her fingers through her hair rinsing away all the dirt and dust. With great effort, she tried to wash away the feeling of clumsy boyish fingers. Her hands rubbed down her face harshly when the first sob welled in her throat.

Her head bowed as she felt remorse rampaging through, her fist hit the side of the shower as she fought down all that rose inside her. Like a typhoon, it swept her under, her heart crying out as her body shuddered with lament.