The Burning Pen

Yuleride
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 29

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 29 ~ The Meal

Hardly aware of Snape’s hands on her shoulders, Hermione moved into the room. Snape’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the setting. Since Hermione entered first, the room adapted to her needs and desires.

He found it quite interesting. The door closed behind them and they stopped walking for a moment.

”What is this?” Hermione asked, her voice nearly a whisper.

”Apparently, all that you need,” Snape responded. “The room magically set itself to your—requirements.”

Both witch and wizard stood in almost complete darkness. Before them was a round table draped in black, with a single, thick white candle in a silver setting resting on it. Two chairs finished the dark, austere furnishing.

Snape guided her to the table and pulled out her chair. Hermione sat down hypnotically and Snape slid the chair in. He walked around the table and sat down across from her. He looked a bit disembodied, his robes blending in with the darkness, his face almost appearing to float as the candlelight flickered over his features. His black eyes shifted around the room, then rested on Hermione.

”I find this setting quite interesting. It appears, Hermione, that all you require—is me,” he said to her softly.

”The room must be malfunctioning,” Hermione said, lowering her eyes so he couldn’t see her reaction to his softly uttered observation.

Snape considered her a moment, then his eyes narrowed.

”Hardly. But you can tell yourself that, if you like,” Snape purred at her. “Whatever makes you feel most—sa . . . comfortable.

Snape picked up a napkin, which was also black, flicked it out with a flourish and laid it across his lap. He looked over at Hermione, who was studiously looking down at the table, still embarrassed about the lack of anything in the room other than him. It was so—telling about her innermost feelings she could barely stand it.

“Would you like to eat now?”

The Potions master’s voice seemed to wake her up from her private reverie.

”Yes,” Hermione said quickly, looking up at him, glad for anything that would offer a distraction.

This had to be the ultimate in intimate dining. No bells, no whistles, just she and he, alone, in the dark. Merlin.

”Food,” Snape said shortly.

Suddenly a number of plates and bowls appeared on the table, along with utensils, neatly stacked glasses, napkins, wine, tea, pumpkin juice and milk.

”My word,” Hermione breathed as she looked at the assortment of delicacies.

Snape studied the plates before him, then reached into his pocket, took out a small bottle, uncapped it, took a swig, replaced the cap and returned it to his pocket.

”What was that?” Hermione asked him.

Snape looked at her coolly.

”A potion that works as a preventative for digestive distress,” he said, eyeing the food on the table. “Some of us do not have iron stomachs. I am one of them.”

Hermione snorted. She didn’t see anything here that should cause havoc with his digestive system. There were stuffed baby peppers, butternut, pecan, ricotta and sage pasties, fish fingers, cod bites, beef and pork Satay Sticks, mini-Yorkshire puddings with roast beef filling; mushrooms stuffed with cheese; barquettes filled with Shepard’s pie, lamb curry, and beef stew, a number of . mini-bread puddings with rum sauce and a few bite-sized toffee cake. They were all very small portions, more like finger foods than anything, and she loved each and every item she saw.

The hell with Snape. He was just being contrary, as usual. Oddly, this made Hermione feel much more comfortable as she began to fill her plate with food.

“Well, you’re going to love Egypt, then,” she said, placing a barquette on her plate, ‘the food there will give you the runs for at least three days until you get used to it.”

Snape’s nose was wrinkled as he selected a couple of cod bites, pasties, and a couple of mushroom, sniffing them before putting them on his plate.

”I am quite aware of the dangers of Middle-Eastern foods, thank you. The water is most suspect. Luckily, as a wizard I will be able to produce my own water, or purify what is available,” Snape said, picking up a cod bite, dipping it in a bit of vinegar and eating it.

Hermione blissfully bit into a sage pastie. Gods, it was delicious and watched as Snape poured himself a glass of wine. She opted for pumpkin juice. She looked up at him curiously as he focused on eating.

”Have you made any plans for your travels?” she asked him.

He nodded.

”Yes. Egypt will be my first stop. I am taking British Airways. I’ve been corresponding with a wizard there, Mr. Anwar Answany, who will be providing my guide. It will be a child. A wizard.” Snape said softly as he continued to eat.

Hermione was fascinated. His guide would be a child wizard?

”Why?” she asked Snape.

”Children have less guile. He’s an orphan and will be better off with me than picking bollworms from the cotton fields,” the wizard replied.

Hermione scowled.

“Severus, you’ll be going into dangerous areas. A child could be killed,” she told him.

”So could I, Hermione. So could anyone. The boy knows and by Anwar’s accounts, is anxious to serve. If he does well, I will be his patron after I leave Egypt and he will be provided with all he needs to properly educated and reach adulthood. A far brighter future than he has now. He thinks it worth the risk.”

”How old is he?” Hermione asked curiously.

”Ten,” Snape said.

”And his parents agree to let him go traipsing across the sands with you?” she asked incredulously.

”The boy is an orphan. A street rat. Since he is always being pursued by the law for his methods of survival, stealing, he’s been forced to move about the country, often fleeing to areas where no one would dare follow him. He’s been left for dead many times after running into the desert and disappearing. He is very resourceful. His name is Haruun.”

Hermione ate a small shepherd’s pie then said, “If he’s so poor, how does he have a wand?”

Snape smirked.

”He doesn’t. His magic is wandless and original. He learned what he can do on his own. I plan to teach him more while he is with me,” the pale wizard said. “Possibly I will sponsor him for Hogwarts.”

Hermione dropped her fork.

”What?” she said, surprised. Severus Snape doing anything kind for anyone seemed out of character.

”It will be the cheapest route actually. And more secure. I can be sure the funds I spend will actually be used for his upkeep rather than to line his guardian’s pockets,” Snape said coolly. “Provided Haruun survives, that is. As you know, we will be going for the Elixir of Immortality. I plan to begin . . . “

Snape began to lay out his plans to Hermione, who listened in fascination as he described the initial places he and Haruun would go, and the dangers surrounding each. Some areas were heavily guarded and access restricted. They had to get past the guards to gather more information or steal maps. Several museums would be hit, although Severus planned to copy the information rather than take something so delicate and of such historical value. It was all so exciting, so—cloak and dagger.

Snape suddenly looked down at her food.

”Your food has gone cold,” he said to the witch quietly. Hermione didn’t hear him, her mind awhirl imagining the adventures that lay ahead for the wizard and his guide.

Snape rapped on the table with his knuckles.

”The purpose of having a meal with you is so you will consume it,” he said sharply, his brow furrowed.

Hermione blinked at him.

”When you do intend to leave?” she asked him. “For Egypt?”

”My flight is booked exactly one week after Hogwarts lets out,” the wizard said. “I have tickets for two seats—although I will probably have to eat the cost of one.”

Hermione felt her belly turn over when the wizard told her he’d booked two seats. Clearly, one was meant for her.

”Why? Can’t you just cancel it?” she asked him.

”I don’t like to be seated in close proximity to any and everyone,” Snape said softly. “I cannot bear the company and constant presence of most people. It is a long flight to Egypt. I prefer to be in my comfort zone during the journey if I must go alone. And according to you—I will be.”

There it was. The elephant in the room.

Hermione didn’t say anything as Snape continued to look at her. He stared, his chest tightening as he prepared to speak again.

”Why must you stay here, Hermione?” he asked her softly. “Immersed in this mundanity? I’ve assured you I will not mistreat you and you would be free to go if I did. But I would not. Why do you insist on denying yourself what it is you really want? I could see your desire in your eyes clearly when I told you my plans. Longing is radiating off of you in waves. You want to see the things I will see, do the things I will do. Why won’t you admit it? There is nothing wrong with changing your mind. Witches are prone to doing just that at the drop of a Sickle. I wouldn’t fault you for it. I’d welcome it—welcome you.”

Hermione listened, but didn’t say anything. Snape’s voice became softer.

”Tell me what I have to do, to convince you to come with me? I will tell you what I told Albus Dumbledore when he asked me what I was willing to do to save Lily Potter and her family—“

Here, his voice trailed off, and a sense of heaviness and regret filled the room.

”What—what did you say?” Hermione asked, knowing that whatever it was, it was something said in vain, because Lily Potter wasn’t saved, nor her husband. Harry wasn’t either. He just survived Voldemort’s attack. Dumbledore had not been there for them.

”My answer was ‘Anything,’” Snape said hollowly, his dark eyes full of pain before they shifted towards her. “And for years after Lily’s death, I did just that, Hermione. I served Albus Dumbledore in any and every capacity he desired although he broke his word to me within weeks of gaining my fidelity. I am a man capable of great commitment. I would be no less committed to you, if you accompany me.”

Hermione studied the pale face across from her, Snape’s gaunt, sallow features floating before her in the darkness, brows furrowed, his black eyes glinting back at her and his mouth held in a thin line. There was a slight tick in his angular jaw, pulsing as it reflexively tightened against his admission of being willing to commit to her. It had been a difficult admittance that had taken all of his resolve to actually say.

“How committed?” Hermione asked him softly.

”To death and beyond it,” Snape replied, the candlelight flickering over his face giving him the appearance of something ethereal and wraith-like. It was as if he were something more than a mortal man.

Then, Hermione felt the magic, her eyes widening as the wizard’s oath took place. Snape hadn’t intended to take an oath, but didn’t hesitate when he felt the power building within him as he spoke, because it was proof of his honesty concerning her. Now, he couldn’t doubt his motives. They had been proven sincere by his own magic. He had not spoken sweet, empty words. He honestly and truly wanted the witch before him more than he wanted his own life.

”You—you took an oath,” Hermione said unnecessarily.

Snape slowly nodded.

”It was not intentional, but an oath cannot be faked. I mean what I said, Hermione Granger. If you come with me I would give my life for you,” he said to her.

Hermione stared at him, unable to believe this.

”You sound like a man in love,” she nearly whispered.

Snape began to blink rapidly as the room seemed to heat up around him.

”I—I—“ he began, then faltered, Hermione still staring at him.

Suddenly, his face contorted.

”Why do women always have to bring blasted Love into everything! Isn’t it possible to get a commitment from someone without the heavens opening up above and choirs of angels singing? I didn’t love Albus Dumbledore and I served him! I despised and still despise Harry Potter, but I constantly put my life on the line for him! Is that what you need, Hermione? Flowery declarations of love to make up your mind? Any man can say he loves you—it’s just—just words! Be logical! The commitment would be mutual!”

”But I didn’t take an oath,” Hermione said quietly.

”Blast and bother! I didn’t take the oath! It—it took me! By surprise!” he declared.

”You didn’t look surprised,” Hermione responded.

Snape fell silent, his chest rising and falling as he sought to pull himself together. He hadn’t meant to explode but the L-word just, just put out there had proven too much for him. He could feel Hermione’s growing power over him, and like every free-range male, he balked, ducking the lasso. He managed to calm a bit.

“Well, I was surprised. Unlike you and many others, I can contain it. The ability has saved my life more than once,” he told her. “A spy cannot afford to be surprised.”

”You’re no longer a spy,” she replied, which made Snape redden.

The witch was—infuriating.

”No. I’m not, but my reactions are still the same,” he answered her. “And I find you sitting there and stating the obvious rather than addressing what I’ve said, quite—juvenile.”

Both of Hermione’s eyebrows rose.

”Juvenile? You’re the one that had a hissy fit just because I said you sounded like a man in love. I didn’t actually say you were in love,” she said.

Snape swelled visibly. Hissy fit?

”You implied it!” he stated, shaking a finger at her now.

Hermione calmly eyed the accusing finger as he shook it and continued his tirade.

“You are engaging your—your womanly wiles in an attempt to get me to say something I have no intentions of saying,” he said furiously. “Like the rest of your sex, Hermione, you are tricky, treacherous, manipulative—“

”I could say the same about Slytherins in general,” Hermione said, staying cool and rather enjoying putting the snarky wizard in the hot seat.

”With Slytherins those things are virtues,” he shot back at her. “With women, they are—manacles, chains and rings through the nose. You all have one objective—trapping a man into a commitment!”

Hermione didn’t say a word at this statement.

She didn’t have to.

Snape stared at her for several moments as the ludicrousness of his own words sunk in. He had already made the commitment and Hermione had done nothing to make him do so.

“Blast,” he hissed as Hermione gave him a tiny smirk as he realized his error in logic.

If tonight proved anything, it was Severus Snape really was human after all.

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A/N: Thanks for reading. I hope everyone had a happy holiday. :)

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