Entry tags:

at the edge of the world, gift fic, ss/hg exchange

At the Edge of the World - Part Three
Summary: They say you don't know what you've got until it's gone. Hermione's always been a smart woman; can she figure it what she's about to lose before it is too late?
Rating: PG
A/N -Originally posted here, At the Edge of the World was gift for scatteredlogic from the Winter 2008 sshg_exchange. Original Prompt: Hermione has been working with Snape for a few years (author's choice of profession) and realizes that she's falling for him. Before she decides what to do about it, he begins dating someone else (again, author's choice). Hermione has to take action before she loses her chance. How she does it, and how he reacts is up to the author.

The Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowlings, I don't own any of it. "Edge of the World" is the title of a song by the band Runrig, written about the St Kilda archipelago in Scotland, and I have shamelessly appropriated it for my fic.



At the Edge of the World - Part Three

Hermione stepped into her living room, unsteady on her heels now that Severus no longer had his arm around her waist for support. She turned, fully intending to politely offer her thanks and to wish him a good night before locking the door and crawling into bed for a good, alcohol-fueled mope, only to find herself nose to masculine chin as he followed her into the house.

She heard the door close behind him and blinked, finally pulling her fascinated gaze from the hint of dark stubble lining Severus' jaw upward to search the rest of his face.

"You've done your duty. I'm home, safe and sound. Not a single shadowy bandit or even a rogue Soay sheep to report. You can go back to the party now; Enid may have changed her mind and returned," Hermione offered in what she thought was a rather friendly and not at all despondent tone.

"Enid is beginning a new experiment tomorrow and will be in her lab in less than four hours, and I have spent more than enough time being festive for one day. For the entire month, for that matter."

He reached between them and began to unfasten Hermione's down coat. She felt her breath turn into something solid in her lungs as she stood, motionless, and let Severus nudge the loosened garment off her shoulders.

"A little help, please." He nodded when Hermione obediently pulled her arms free. "That's a good girl."

"I am not a girl," came the immediate reply. Hermione wished she had held her tongue when he stepped past her to drape her coat across the arm of the nearby sofa.

Severus gave her a long, intense look that her intoxicated mind couldn't quite identify, and began to unbutton his own coat. "No, definitely not a girl. Not for years now."

"Are you planning on making yourself at home?" The question ended on a shrill note that Hermione hoped he would blame on too much wine.

He carefully folded his coat and placed it atop hers. "I plan on verifying that you have the proper supplies on hand to deal with the headache you'll undoubtedly have in the morning, and to make certain that you get settled in for the night without incident."

Severus returned to her side and began to lead her down the hall toward her bedroom, pausing just outside the doorway. "You get ready for bed, and I'll check on you in a few minutes to make sure you're all tucked in before I leave. Go on, Hermione."

She allowed him to nudge her into the other room without protest, wondering at what point, exactly, her life had become an episode of The Twilight Zone.

There she was, sitting on the edge of her bed, wearing her favorite "notice me" dress and those ridiculously inappropriate shoes, while the very man she had hoped to entice was here in her home ... and instead of seducing him, Hermione was trying to decide if she should change into the flannel pajamas with the yellow duckies or the ones with the grinning leprechauns so that he could put her to bed like a child.

You don't want him to put you to bed, you want him to take you to bed. You don't want Severus to tuck you in, you want him to fu -

"Duckies!" Her inner monologue was cut off as quickly as possible.

"What was that?" Severus called from down the hall.

"Nothing." Hermione buried her face in her hands with a groan.

The sad fact of the matter was that while she had recently discovered that she had feelings for Severus, he was set on wooing another. Hermione just wasn't the sort of woman who would purposely steal another woman's man.

Unless...

Unless he doesn't love Enid. Severus has always been extremely practical. Not once, in all the time we've discussed Enid and his attempts at courtship, has Severus ever mentioned love. He's never even mentioned being overly attracted to her.

If it's not a love match, but one based on practicalities rather than passions, then would it really be such a horrid thing if I were to make my feelings known?

Think, Hermione. Just because Severus hasn't told you of his feelings for her, doesn't mean there are none to speak of. He's always been a private man.

The faint glimmer of hope that had barely begun to form in her heart dissipated, and Hermione realized she was a maudlin drunk.

With a sigh, she leaned over to loosen the delicate straps of her heels and promptly felt light-headed. She took a deep breath and held it, clumsy fingers plucking ineffectually at the clasp until Hermione felt that she might pass out.

"I had expected that you would be in bed and asleep by now."

Sitting up made the room spin.

Severus was standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. Hermione thought he looked slightly disapproving. She shifted, lifting her leg and turning her foot so that he could see the small buckle on her ankle. "Shoes."

"Shoes?"

The last time she had felt this idiotic, Hermione had still been a schoolgirl. "I can't seem to be able to get out of my shoes."

She had fully expected him to laugh at her, or to tell her that she'd just have to figure it out in the morning, but he did neither. Instead, she watched, frozen in place and unwilling to move away, as he crossed the room to gracefully fall to his knees at her feet. His head tipped downward, face hidden behind a veil of glossy black hair, when he reached for one of her heels.

For a moment, the only thing that Hermione could hear was the sound of her own gasping breath, nearly silent and yet as loud as the waves that continually crash against the cliffs of Conachair to her. Severus worked in silence, long fingers gently working the strap loose from the clasp. He cradled her ankle in the palm of his hand as he slowly slid the heeled shoe off, then lowered her foot to rest against his thigh.

Hermione looked down at her painted toes, a bright red that was at odds with the paleness of her skin and the black of his trousers. Her toes flexed under her watchful eye, pressing against firm muscle, and she thought she saw his hands falter slightly when they reached for her other foot. Surely I imagined it.

"Why her?"

It took Hermione a moment to realize the voice that had split the silence had been her own, a moment longer for the words she'd used to register in her mind.

"Who?" His tone was casual and smooth, and she knew he knew exactly whom she meant.

"Why Enid?"

His hands stilled, hot against her skin, head still tilted down so that she could not see his face, could not see his eyes. "Why not?"

Hermione wanted to jerk her foot free. She wanted to shake him, to grasp a handful of his hair and force him to look at her. "That's not a real answer."

Severus' fingers began to move again, slower than before, softer. "Would you have preferred me to say that I realized I was coming to the lab early every day in the hopes of catching a glimpse of her before the workday started? That the thought of talking with her over a cup of coffee was enough to make me look forward to pausing my experiments for lunch, a meal I simply tolerated until I could return to my work before her? That I thought my heart might implode the first time I heard my given name slip past her lips? That I had nearly given up hope that she might ever come to care for me the way I have grown to care for her, and yet I find myself willing to do the most ridiculous things in some misguided effort to win her affections?"

She caught a glimpse of dark eyes intently watching her through the curtain of hair, and Hermione felt her heart thud, heavy in her chest. Not Enid. It was never Enid.

"Oh. Oh, Severus." Her hand reached out and softly touched his hair.

He seemed to tilt his head toward her touch for just a moment, then he pulled back, finally looking up at her with a face that was carefully blank. Her shoe came free in his hand. Severus moved both of her feet to the ground and stood. "I trust you can handle the rest on your own."

Severus was at the doorway before Hermione found her voice. "Wait! Don't you ... Stay. Please?"

Both of his hands curled into fists, and she thought he was about to return to her, then Severus straightened to his full height. "You're drunk."

Then he was gone. She heard her front door quietly open and close and knew she was alone.

-8-

Sunday passed uneventfully, without a word from Severus, much to Hermione’s relief. She had needed the quiet solitude to think, and by Monday morning she knew what to do.

Unless she was horrifically mistaken, the entire Enid Lynch business must have been a ruse. Severus hadn’t actually admitted that he had been talking about Hermione on Saturday night, the possibility that he truly was infatuated with Enid – however small – did exist, but Hermione felt it was worth the risk.

She was going to woo Severus Snape.

Monday dawned bright and clear. The first hour at work was spent checking in with her staff, making sure all of their projects were still on track. Then she gathered up her various progress reports and notes, and hurried off to the conference room for the weekly meeting of department heads.

Severus slid into the chair next to hers mere moments before Herbert West, the head of the facility, called the meeting to order.

Hermione waited until their boss began to speak, then nudged the spare mug of coffee that she’d brought toward Severus’ hand, keeping her gaze firmly locked on West at the head of the table.

Severus quietly mumbled his thanks, and she watched him reach for the mug out of the corner of her eye.

“My pleasure, Severus.”

She saw the mug still halfway to his mouth before slowly continuing on. Hermione was positive that he spent most of the meeting watching her.

As much as she would have liked to talk with him after the meeting, she didn’t get the chance. West called to her as she stood and asked to walk her back to her lab since he had a few questions about the Lyndgrove experiment.

Lunch couldn’t come soon enough. Hermione eagerly arrived at the mess hall, and was only slightly disappointed not to see Severus there. He rarely managed to beat her there, after all.

A roast beef sandwich easily large enough to share was chosen and purchased, and then Hermione settled down at a table, absentmindedly reviewing last week’s progress reports as she waited.

Half an hour later, Severus still hadn’t arrived, and Hermione was starting to get hungry. She nibbled on a quarter of the sandwich, and began to wonder if he might be skipping lunch on purpose to avoid her.

The door blew open, but it wasn’t Severus tumbling through the doorway, surrounded by a group of chattering colleagues. It was Enid.

Hoping to avoid the other woman all together, Hermione quickly shoved all of her things together and stood, intending to finish her meal in her office.

“Hermione!”

She looked up as Enid broke away from the others and hurried across the room, grinning from ear to ear.

Hermione plastered a forced smile across her lips and offered a greeting in return.

“Oh, Hermione, you’ll never believe what happened Saturday night after the party. I was home, waiting for a call, and then he was there at the door!” Enid held up her left hand and wiggled her ring finger so that the overhead lights caused the large diamond in her ring to flash. “It was a complete surprise, but of course I said yes!”

Her diamond engagement ring.

Saturday. After the party.

He must have gone after he left my place. That must have been why he was in such a hurry to leave, he needed to get to her.

“Hermione?” She realized that Enid was looking at her strangely, concern clouding her earlier enthusiasm. She smiled again, and tried to summon even the smallest bit of genuine happiness for the other woman.

“It’s beautiful. Congratulations. I’m sure you’ll both be very happy together.”

She found herself engulfed in a sweet-smelling hug, and then Enid was off to rejoin her other friends. Hermione could hear one of them asking how he had proposed, and she knew she had to get out of there before she snapped.

How could he?

How could leave me thinking that he cared about me and go straight to her? How could he not know that I – that I love him?

Hermione exited the mess and scurried down the path toward the research building, wanting to get to the privacy of her office so that she could have a short breakdown and regroup without anyone being the wiser, her lunch forgotten on the table.

There, finally, was Severus, hurrying down the narrow lane toward her. His breath was visible in the cold air. He stopped cold when he saw her.

“Merlin’s arse, where is your coat, woman? Have you gone daft?”

The sandwich wasn’t the only think she’d left behind in her rush to escape, but Hermione didn’t want him to see how badly Enid’s news had affected her. She lifted her chin, setting it at a stubborn angle, and offered a smile that was more of a grimace.

“I hear that congratulations are in order.”

He moved closer, fingers working the buttons of his coat loose. “What are you babbling about? How long have you been out here like this? We’re going to the infirmary.” Severus pulled his coat off and draped it across her shoulders, tugging the lapels together to enfold her in its warmth.

“I’m not delirious. I just spoke to Enid. She told me about the engagement. Congratulations. You certainly wasted no time.”

He swore under his breath. “On the contrary, I’ve wasted years.” His cheeks and nose were beginning to turn pink from the chill. “If Enid is engaged, then I can only assume that Claude finally worked up the nerve to ask her.”

Claude?

“Who?”

“Claude would be the man that Enid has been seeing for the last ten years. From what she’s told me, he’s a decent man, widowed, with two grown children and they’ve been dancing around the idea of getting married for two years or longer.”

“Claude?”

“Claude.”

Severus shivered and Hermione finally realized that she was wearing his coat. “You’re going to freeze.”

“If we continue to stand out here, that is a very possible outcome, yes.”

Hermione wanted to shove him. “You knew about Claude all this time, and you let me think... Why?”

“Because if I had come to you and told you that I, Severus Snape, your nasty former teacher, had fallen in love with you, you would have laughed in my face.”

She had suspected. She had hoped.

And now she knew.

“I wouldn’t have laughed. I might have thrown up, but I wouldn’t have laughed.”

His face, the parts that weren’t red and chafed, turned deathly pale, and he straightened, pulling away from her. “I see.”

Hermione reached out with the hand that wasn’t clutching her paperwork to her chest, and grabbed a handful of his shirt, tugging him back toward her.

“I always get queasy when I’m nervous, or feel like I’m in over my head. Like now. I’m pretty sure that I love you and I am so very glad that I didn’t get a chance to eat lunch because my stomach is a roiling pit of nerves right now.”

Severus brushed a tangle of hair out of her face, and offered a small smile. “I’ve got something that might calm your stomach in my office. Do you mean it?”

“Oh, yes. I’m pretty sure if I’d actually eaten my sandwich, I’d be sick right now.”

His eyes closed briefly, lips tightening in exasperation. “I meant, did you mean it when you said that you loved me, Hermione?”

“Did you?”

“With everything I’ve done over the last few weeks to get your attention, can you doubt it? Yes, I meant it.” Both of his arms crept around her.

She stomped on his foot. “I don’t like being manipulated, Mr. Snape. Remember that in the future. Now kiss me.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously, but Severus did as she commanded. His frozen lips brushed against hers, warming quickly. As their lips parted, she stood on tiptoe to deepen the kiss further, reveling in the feel and taste of the man she loved.

-8-

“No problems at all, we made it home safe and sound, Mum.” Hermione rolled her eyes. She and Severus had barely walked through the door of their cottage when the phone rang.

“You just saw us yesterday, don’t you think it’s a bit early to start planning another visit?” She put her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone and whispered, “I knew we shouldn’t have gone to see them, now she’ll expect us every holiday.”

Severus shook his head, then moved to stand behind his wife, putting his arms around her waist and pulling her back against his chest. He nuzzled his nose against the side of her neck that didn’t have the phone pressed against it, and Hermione gave up trying to give her full attention to her mother.

“Uh huh,” she agreed with whatever it was Monica Granger was saying, tilting her head to give Severus better access.

His warm lips trailed against sensitive skin, breath hot against her neck.

“Of course, Mum, whatever you - wait, what?” Hermione jerked free from Severus’ hold. “Mum, you promised not to start in about grandchildren until we’d been married for a few years, remember? No, we are not getting too old!”

She tried to offer a silent apology to her husband; he was starting to look rather grumpy. “I’ve explained this to you before - wizards live long lives. Severus is still in his prime. I think the word you’re looking for is 'virile.'”

He seemed to brighten up at that, which made Hermione smile. Then her smile disappeared as Monica continued.

“No, I am not just saying that because he’s standing right here. MUM, no! We don’t need any of Daddy’s special blue pills!”

The End



Part 1