snamioneshipper reblogged
St Severus - UPDATED!
* * * available to read at www.crmediagal.com * * *
Story: St Severus by CRMediaGal
Pairing: Severus Snape/Hermione Granger | Genres: Family/Romance/Angst/Humour
Synopsis: After moving in next door to her cantankerous former childhood professor, an overworked, newly single Hermione Granger is forced to leave her only child, Hugo, under the troublesome wizard’s care. The complicated interactions that ensue bring with them a hodgepodge of angst, humour, drama, and much needed re-connection for all. Based loosely on St. Vincent. AU, Post-war.
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10 *NEW!*
Excerpt from Chapter 10:
All of a sudden, Hermione found herself staring into the face of hallowed brokenness where once angry, edgy defences had long resided. Unapologetic defeat returned her examination, its wraith-like residency gripping and pungent. It momentarily left her bereft of air, for Hermione had looked into those terrible eyes only once before: years ago in the Shrieking Shack, where Severus Snape had lay dying before hers, Ron’s, and Harry’s feet, his life bleeding out at a rapid rate.
It had been an excruciating exercise to relay his memories that would, ultimately, help her best mate defeat the Dark Lord, for he had been choking on his own blood all the while, and yet, somehow, in what was then thought to be his final moments, Severus Snape had miraculously managed the impossible, sharing the best, most hidden depths of his soul with a young man whom he had, for years, openly despised. Then he had seemingly taken his last breath upon the creaky floorboards, his blood seeping into the cracks and veins of the wood and leaving their everlasting mark, and gone still.
To this day, Hermione had been haunted by that cold moment; at her inability to intervene, to help, to aid. She had witnessed the fright in his eyes as he breathed his supposed last and she had stood by, in a wild daze, and let him ‘die’. The fact that Severus had gone on to survive the harrowing ordeal left Hermione feeling all the worse when she looked at him, horridly aware of how little she and her friends had ultimately done for him after he had selflessly saved their hides time and time again.
Hermione reached up from the pit of her stomach, through the ball knotting and warping at the back of her throat, and spoke to him as she hoped one might speak to her were the roles with one of her patients reversed; or if she had been in Severus’s place during that traumatic, life-altering moment in the Shrieking Shack.
“Don’t feel hopeless, Severus. This is not a resigned situation. There are options.” She patted his thigh, soft, dainty digits stretching, spreading, and infiltrating his skin like the first dose of Pepperup Potion intended to combat a bad cold. “You’re going to get well, I promise. I’m going to look after you and make sure of it, all right?”
He didn’t bestow a reaction at first and while Hermione didn’t expect him to give her much, the gift of his despondency felt no less heart-breaking. She forced a pained smile, brushed a piece of loose black hair away from his watchful, solemn eyes—she was surprised at how straggly the texture was—and grasped his hand.
“You rest now,” she counselled as she, at last, inched away from the bed. “I’ll be back shortly to issue more tests. They won’t hurt. In fact, you can sleep through them if you wish.”
The heaviness in Severus’s returning stare gave a slight shift, though Hermione was already half-turned away from him and overlooked its glimmer; but she didn’t miss the abrupt mighty tug on her hand. In the next instant, she had been yanked back to Severus’s bedside, her nose nearly colliding with his. She let forth a tight gasp, stricken by such physical strength, particularly for someone who had been found hours earlier drenched in a pool of his own sweat by none other than a supposed pregnant prostitute…if what Hermione had been told by the Healers-in-training was correct.
“I…know…you,” he declared a second time through a peculiar, impactful guttural confidence.
Hermione nodded. “Yes, Severus. I’m Her—”
He vehemently shook his head, spared a moment for breath, and, with a lengthy cadence, stated the same phrase again, though it struck her differently this time, “I…know…you…Herm…i…on…e.”
Hermione stilled. It was the first time he had willing addressed her by her name. She bowed her head, affected, and murmured, her eyes fastened to his, “And I…I think I’m starting to know you, too, Severus.”
