Addicted to You

XXIV

When Hermione and Snape returned to the house, it was like they were coming back there after ages. When he wasn't there she couldn't bear to be here, but had stayed over at The Burrow. They hadn't any supplies and they were too worn out to cook themselves a spot of dinner, so they had got some takeout food. For some reason, they both felt a quiver in their stomachs and they ate in silence.

Hermione thought perhaps he was not in the mood for a lively conversation at the moment and she found herself playing around with the food, not eating much. The question that was hovering in the air was: What now? They wondered, were they supposed to act like nothing had happened or pick up right from where they left off?...Could they?

She saw him sneaking up glances at her while eating and realized he might be just as skittish as she was. When he was finished, he was about to take his plate to the sink but Hermione quickly jumped to his aid.

"Please, allow me...You must be tired."

She took the plate from him to join it with her own and he watched as she carried them to the kitchen. He let out a weary sigh indeed but there was an amused exhalation at the end of it.

"You're too kind to me..." he mumbled in appreciation, "You're almost too good to be true."

If it was before, he would, no doubt, have been sarcastic, or passed a snide comment about her. But a lot had changed in him. And in her as well. She shook her head, snorting out a laugh. "I'm not good, not even close..."

"Why would you say that?"

"Because goodness is not goodness that seeks advantage." she said.

This made him halt. "And what advantage are you seeking off me?"

"You."

She couldn't believe she just said that but she knew it was true. She had always been helping him out of the generosity and selflessness of her nature but lately she had realized that it wasn't completely altruistic on her part. She shyly met his gaze, checking his expression and dreading whether she had crossed a line. But he looked at her in wonderment and fervor, trying to decipher fully the hidden meaning of her reply.

Had he heard her correctly? Did she mean what he thought she meant?

"I..." he broke the eye-contact and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I need to take a shower."

Disenchanted, she mumbled, "Of course," and carried on her work. Of course, he must be totally exhausted from all that had happened- prison, courts and dementors.

Hermione didn't look back as she turned to the sink and took out her wand to give it a wave, so that the tap started running in order to wash the dishes and then arrange themselves in order to be dried and be stowed away in the cabinet. Then she took her time to do the same with the kitchen counter- cleaning the table and drying the sink, all the while being curious as to why her heart was palpitating. Her hands moved mechanically, while her mind was with the man in her house and she didn't pay heed to the time passing.

The monotonous drip from the tap made her pause, in remembrance of the night he had first come here. She leaned on the kitchen top and glanced out of the little window over the oven, at the encompassing darkness outside; how she had pulled him out of a similar blackness on that dark and stormy night, when he had arrived there weak and vulnerable. Something had struck her then, that she should help this man, and she had a similar affinity towards him even now. At the moment she couldn't say she had thought it through when she had decided to let him stay there, but she had no regrets whatsoever.

She still had her back to him when she suddenly sensed his presence behind her; she got a whiff of his cologne before actually hearing him. He must have taken a very quick shower and dared she hope that it was because he wanted to be with her as quickly as possible? He was standing very still, no doubt watching her and she stood a little stiff too, allowing him the chance to speak.