The
Burning Pen
A Turn for the Better
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.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All
situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 41 ~ A Final Confrontation
The rest of the night went quite well, Snape having to let Hermione dance with
other graduates, although he didn't let the dances go on too long, particularly
when Ron cut in, Lavender looking at him furiously from their table.
Ron held her just a little too tightly and a little too closely.
"So, you're shagging Snape?" he asked Hermione by way of starting a conversation
as the Potions master watched them dance with narrowed eyes, seeing Hermione
blush furiously. But the witch had her own little comeback. She was tired of
Ron.
"Not yet, but soon," she replied, making Ron go a bit red himself. "He's
brilliant, and mature and would never ask a witch he was dancing with who she
was shagging, unlike you, you git."
"He's ugly as a bugbear's bottom," Ron said nastily, "and old enough to be your
father."
"I don't think he's ugly," Hermione said loftily, "and it's what I think that
matters, isn't it? And as for his age, it doesn't matter. It's how he'll treat
me that does. And when he gets mad, he won't run home crying to mummy."
"I don't do that!" Ron exclaimed.
"Right. You've sent owls to your mum all year, Ron. I've heard about it, telling
her what Lavender's doing to you and asking for advice instead of trying to
figure things out for yourself! You're a mummy's boy."
Ron's eyes narrowed, and he tightened his hold on Hermione.
"I'll show you a mummy's boy," he growled, then suddenly went pale as Snape's
contorted visage appeared behind Hermione.
"May I cut in, Mr. Weasley?" he purred, his eyes hard as diamond.
"Um . . . yeah," Ron said, quickly releasing Hermione and hurrying back to his
table.
Snape took Hermione gently in his arms and began to dance with her again.
"Was Mr. Weasley giving you a difficult time?" he asked her softly, although the
look in his eye belied his gentle question.
"He's . . . he's a little jealous," Hermione said, "he has a bit of a crush on
me."
"I see," Snape said, looking over at Ron's table, where the redhead was getting
a bit of a low level tongue-lashing from Lavender. Ron quickly pulled out her
chair and brought her to the dance floor, pulling her close and trying to talk
her out of her angry mood.
Lily and James were dancing as well, Lily resting her head on James' shoulder,
but watching Severus with Hermione, noting his solicitous body language as he
danced with the young witch. It was clear to see this just wasn't a matter of
escorting her. The dark wizard was invested. He was much older now, but Lily
remembered when he looked at her that way. She used to lead him around by his
big nose because he was so smitten. She had liked him, their contrast always
made her look good, made her feel special because he wouldn't interact with
anyone else like he did with her.
But he was certainly interacting now. And after all these years, Lily felt a
twinge of jealousy. Why? She didn't know. She didn't know that she was jealous
really, but she didn't like seeing him with Hermione in his arms, young,
attractive and clearly smitten with him, not afraid of being seen as interested,
not ashamed of his looks or his age or his house. Harry had said she was a
Gryffindor. And she didn't give a damn he was a Slytherin or her former teacher.
Appearances had always mattered to Lily. When she and Severus had sex, she never
told a soul and made him promise not to either. He gave his word, and he never
did reveal it to anyone. Back when it occurred, Severus felt as if Lily were the
most wonderful, sexy witch in the world who gave him the most precious gift in
the world, but if one was to ask him about her today, he'd probably respond that
she was just an air-headed bit of fluff with delusions of specialness who
happened to spread her legs for him one night on a whim.
And that it meant nothing.
The night might have been perfect if not for an inebriated Albus rising at the
dais and insisting that all those on the floor participate in a "getting to know
you" dance, where the music didn't end until each person danced with every other
person on the floor. To make sure no one exited the dance floor, he placed a
magical perimeter around it.
"I won't be moving that until you aaaall daaaaance," he said with a slight slur.
"Now, make a big circle everyone, and start dancing. When the music pauses, all
wizards move to the partner on their right. The perimeter will be taken down
when you return to your original partners."
"Gods damn it," Severus mumbled, he and Hermione caught within the perimeter.
There were about fifteen couples on the floor. Jean and John looked on, having
taken a breather.
"That looks fun," Jean said wistfully as the music started and John sipped on
another stout. He looked at Snape, who was frowning blackly and chuckled.
"I don't think everyone thinks so, Jean. Look at Snape," he told his wife, who
looked over at the wizard, holding Hermione rather possessively now.
"Ha, he doesn't want to hand her over to anyone," she said with a smile.
That wasn't completely true. But he saw Lily and James Potter and that meant
interaction that he could really do without. But Hermione was smiling, so he
went along with it as the music started. Unfortunately, Molly Weasley was next
in line. Snape held her at arm's length and moved stiffly as she looked at him
disapprovingly. Arthur, on the other hand, dipped Hermione with a fatherly
smile, also keeping a good distance between them.
The next shift, Hermione came face to face with Lucius Malfoy, who arched an
eyebrow at her.
"I see you like older wizards, young lady," he said to her with a smile, his
gray eyes twinkling at her as he held her a bit closer than necessary, Narcissa
shaking her head and smirking. Lucius was such a rake. Hopefully he wouldn't
scare the little witch in his arms to death with his flirting.
Hermione blushing furiously, then gasped as Lucius dipped her, his lips almost
coming in contact with hers before he let her up, flushed and breathing heavily.
"If only I were a single wizard," he purred.
Hermione let out a sigh of relief, until she saw her next partner. It was Harry.
He took her in his arms.
"Nothing going on with you and Snape, eh? Damn, Granger . . . you must be
desperate," the wizard said to her.
"You don't think your Head of House should have a bit of love in his life? I
thought you liked him?" she said to the wizard, trying not to think how close
they were in the other timeline.
Harry blinked at her, a bit startled.
"Of course I like him . . . it's just that . . . that . . ." he said to her.
"It's just what, Harry? You don't think I'm good enough for him . . . or he's
not good enough for me? Is that it?" she pressed.
"No! It's just . . . just weird, Granger . . . that's all. You two don't seem to
fit at all," he said honestly.
"Maybe not the mold you have in your mind, but love doesn't work like that,
Harry. And I'm telling you, despite your suspicions; he's never laid a hand on
me since I've come to Hogwarts. Maybe we hid how we felt about each other, but
he never once acted in any improper manner towards me. Ever. I've graduated now,
so it's perfectly fine if we're together. And really, I don't care what you
think," Hermione said, her eyes hard as they met his.
Harry just looked at her as they danced, taking in her determination and her
honesty. She wasn't the least bit ashamed she was attracted to Snape, despite
his looks and how old he was. And she didn't care what anyone thought either.
Hm. Hermione really was all right. She was a Gryffindor, but at least she had a
backbone.
Harry shrugged.
"Well, it's weird, but if you're happy and he's happy, then no one else has a
right to say anything about it," Harry conceded.
Hermione smiled at him . . . and he gave her a small smile back.
"I guess you're not as much of a git as I thought, Harry Potter," she said
softly.
"I have my better moments," he replied. Then, "I'm sorry about what I tried to
do to you. I'm an idiot. Maybe I should have gone to Azkaban."
"You're a randy wizard," Hermione said, "No real harm was done."
"Thanks to Snape," Harry muttered, really feeling awful now, remorse in his face
as he looked at the witch.
"Let's just forget about it . . . all right?" Hermione said to him, willing to
wipe the slate clean. Neither of them knew what was going on when she appeared
in his room dressed only in her bra and knickers. It was a strange moment. She
could see Harry thinking she came on purpose, and he was a Slytherin after all.
It was no excuse for what happened, but people made mistakes all the time. She
was willing to put it behind her. As a matter of fact, she already had.
Harry was about to respond when the music paused. He and Hermione looked at each
other, hesitated for a moment, then moved to their next partners, something left
unsaid.
But that was all right.
They weren't friends, but . . . an understanding had been reached, and a kind of
truce.
Fair enough.
The dancing continued, the dancers switching partners and coming closer to the
end of the dance. Ron danced with Hermione, holding her so far away one would
have thought she had a contagious disease, which was fine with both her and
Lavender. He didn't say a word to her.
The music paused again.
James Potter watched as his wife Lily walked up to Snape. The music started and
they stood there, looking at each other. The dark wizard didn't seem willing to
engage her. Lily reddened as the others began dancing, then took his hand and
placed his hand on her waist.
"Dance, damn you. You're embarrassing me," she hissed at the wizard, who barely
moved, looking at her with narrowed eyes.
Hermione looked over at Snape with Harry Potter's mother, and suddenly she
recognized her as the woman in the picture she had taken out of the wastepaper
basket and torn off. She was older, but, those were the same green eyes and red
hair. And by the way they were dancing, or not dancing, she could tell Snape
didn't want to be with her in any manner.
James was watching them as well, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses at the
wizard's treatment of his wife. He was purposely embarrassing her, looking at
her as if she were dirt and acting as if he didn't even want to touch her.
"Why are you doing this?" Lily hissed at Snape as he shuffled his feet, an
expression of distaste on his face. Harry was watching too, but he didn't make a
move. He knew what his mother had done to Snape. Naturally, he wouldn't be happy
to be dancing with her.
Well that was between them. He held to the Slytherin philosophy that every
action has a consequence. His mother was facing hers. Instead of worrying over
it, Harry concentrated on his partner, a rather heavy witch three times his age,
who stepped on his foot and apologized.
"I'm doing nothing, Mrs. Potter, except biding my time until I can get you away
from me," Snape replied quietly.
She blinked at him.
"Do you really hate me that much, Severus?" she asked him.
Snape's dark eyes grew even darker.
"Don't ask questions you don't really want to know the answers to, Mrs. Potter.
The truth can be devastating," he replied. They were bumped by a dancing couple
and moved over slightly.
Lily's eyes started to water, and James broke free of his partner and stalked
toward them.
Hermione saw him, and left her partner as well. She was closer to them than
James was and quickly ran up, tapping the woman on her shoulder.
"May I cut in?" Hermione said, her eyes cold as she looked at Lily. She didn't
have anything against her really, only that her husband was on his way over,
possibly to start a brawl. Snape released Lily, took Hermione in his arms and
danced away with her, ignoring the blasted circle. Enough was enough.
James walked up to his wife, glaring after Snape and Hermione but unable to do
anything. He looked at Lily's wet eyes.
"Are you all right? What did he say to you? I'll crack his greasy head wide open
if he said anything to hurt you, Lily," James breathed, his hands clenched into
fists.
Lily looked at her husband.
"He didn't say anything really, James," she said to him softly, "anything he had
to say has been said already. That much is clear. Let's . . . let's just forget
about him, all right? Harry's graduated, and we have no more children in
Slytherin house. He doesn't have to haunt our memories anymore. This is the end
of it."
"All right, Lily, if you're sure," James said, taking his wife into his arms.
"I'm sure, James," she said softly, resting her head on his shoulder as he spun
her away.
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A/N: I just had to have one more confrontation between Snape and Lily, to show
that it was really over between them. Hermione stepping in was poetic justice in
my estimation. Thanks for reading.
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