I, Snape - Chapter Nineteen

by April Grey

Can't Help Falling in Love With You

“Professor Dumbledore?” Hermione gulped. His chest hair frightened her, along with the fact that no wizard his age had the right to be so buff.

“Mother!” gasped Snape in wide-eyed shock.

“Oh, look Albus. He has a girlfriend.” Althea crooned. She was close to tears with joy. Dumbledore, recognizing thin ice when he was on it, moderated his tone. “Severus Snape, would you care to explain yourself?”

Snape looked from his half naked mother to his headmaster and shook his head. “No, I don’t think I shall. What the HELL are you DOING with my MOTHER!” He had his wand out and his eyes were alight with rage.

“Albus!” Althea moved in front of her fiancé protectively, “I, I think he still cares!” She reached out and put her slim, elegant hands on both sides her son’s face. Hermione stood next to them with her mouth dangling open.

“Mother,” Snape simply stared at her.

“Oh, I’ve missed you.” She put her arms around him and hugged. At first he was frozen, seemingly indifferent to her touch, and then he put his arms around her, squeezing her to him. Hermione watched as his eyes closed tightly shut and an errant tear ran down his cheek. Dumbledore rocked on his feet, suddenly aware that they were all making a scene in a public corridor.

“Althea, can we take this inside, please?” he gently requested.

She reluctantly pulled away from him. “Yes, of course.” She sniffed and her eyes were stilled locked on her son. “But let me look at you. It’s been so long.” Snape was staring intently at the ground.

They all started to head into Dumbledore and Althea’s rooms when Dumbledore noticed that he and his lover had been rather indiscreet about leaving their undergarments and toys around. He hastily backed Snape and Hermione into the corridor again. “We just have to get dressed. Go to your rooms and we will join you momentarily.”

Snape softly glided into his room with Hermione close beside him.

“I’m going to kill him.” Snape quietly sat on the bed. His eyes were hard and glassy and he kept tapping his wand against his hand.

Hermione noticed with some concern that tiny green sparks flew from his wand with every tap. “Why? They look to be a good couple.” He was overreacting, she felt.

Snape stared at Hermione as if she had just turned into Tom Riddle himself. He stood up and began to pace. Hermione watched in silent unease.

There was a quick knock on the door. Dumbledore and Althea came in.

Snape glared at his mother. “How could you? How could you be such a nitwit?”

Dumbledore bristled. “Watch how you address her!”

Snape ignored him. “You only got your freedom a few months ago and already you’re involved with another wizard?”

Althea looked at him with compassion. “I’m sorry. I suppose I do have a lot of explaining to do.”

“I don’t want to hear it!” He folded his arms and gave his famed basilisk glare.

“You will listen to your mother,” said Dumbledore in a voice that made Hermione wince. She wondered if she should beat a retreat to her adjoining room.

Snape spoke to the headmaster, but his eyes never left her. “She knows.

“Remember mother, the last time I saw you? No, I don’t suppose you do? It was at St. Mungo’s. It was my eighteenth birthday. You were lying there unconscious. Your nose was broken, your jaw and cheekbone were crushed, and your collarbone had broke in two places. And I was sick of it. Sick of you and the beatings you took! Father’d beat you until you broken like a child’s toy and you’d go get yourself put back together, and wait for the next time the bastard felt like taking things out on you.”

Althea flinched at the harshness of his words, but kept her back straight and her focus on her son.

“So when you are finally free of the brute, what do you do but you go running off to some other man? Where’s your commonsense, mother?”

“If you had read my letters, you would know things had changed.” Althea’s bottom lip trembled. “I was going to leave him as soon as you had grown up and would be safe from him. But he had a stroke and was left helpless.” Dumbledore took her hand and caressed it gently. “I could have left, but he was an invalid and it didn’t seem right.

“Please, Severus, I love Albus. Don’t I deserve some happiness?” She reached out her arms to her son.

Snape laughed harshly and walked over to the window.

Dumbledore seemed to notice Hermione for the first time. “Well, things seem to have changed a bit between you two from when I left.”

Hermione looked at Snape’s back and then back to the elder wizard. “Yes, I suppose they have.”

“Care to explain?”

“He’s been trying to kill himself.” Snape shot Hermione a nasty look before returning to staring out at the neon-strewn sky of Las Vegas.

Althea gasped. “I knew it. Just like last time.”

“But you’ve kept him well and whole,” stated Dumbledore.

“Barely,” said Hermione dryly. She was finding it all incredibly peculiar. Snape’s mother had been an abused wife, and now was the lover of the Headmaster? No wonder the professor was upset. Hermione wondered how she fit into all of this.

Althea was staring at Hermione, “Aren’t you the little Muggleborn who went up in front of the whole Wizengamot to get my son released?”

Hermione nodded. Althea gave her a hug. “Thank you, my girl, for taking such good care of my son.”

Blushing, Hermione asked her a question, “Why are we all here?” She heard Snape give a bitter sound from his window spot.

Dumbledore took Althea’s hand. “Why we are to be wed and you two are to be witnesses at a real Muggle-style wedding.”

There was another rude sound from Snape’s corner.

“Would you care to come over and make that sound to my face?” asked Dumbledore in a not very pleasant way. “I’m beginning to think you will need to be sent home, if you can’t find a way to be a bit more polite.”

“Oh Albus, he’s unhappy. Can’t you see that? It’s been a bit of a shock.” The look on Althea’s face could only be described as rapturous. She had her son and she’d accept him in any foul mood or whatever condition he wished to be in.

“Shock? Shock?” Snape faced the three others. “I’m disgusted. How much older than you is he? And when did this all start?”

“Maybe we should discuss this later?” said Dumbledore. “The wedding is scheduled for 7 AM, bright and early and then we can all have a lovely wedding breakfast.” Althea smiled and nodded encouragingly.

“I’m all for that,” said Hermione. “The time difference is killing me. Goodnight all!” she smiled brilliantly and headed through the doorway to her room.

“Yes, capital idea,” said Althea. “Albus, I just want to talk to my son, alone, first. I’ll join you in a moment...” Dumbledore left, but not before flashing a stern look of warning at Snape.

“Severus?”

“What is it, mother?” He refused to look at her.

“I’m sorry for not leaving your father when you were a child. But the way wizarding law went, he would have had custody of you. I couldn’t risk him hurting you in my stead.”

“Don’t you think it harmed me every time I saw him hit you? I wanted him to do it to me, just so you wouldn’t be hurt. I would have taken your place.” Raw, lacerated pain filled his voice along with an old rage that had been pent up over a lifetime.

“That would have been wrong, but thank you.” She smiled. “It’s a parents’ duty to protect their child, not the other way around.”

“Why are you getting married again?” he asked harshly.

“Isn’t it obvious? I love Albus. The truth is my marriage to your father took place while I was under “Imperio” by my parents. I never loved your father; he knew it and hated me for it. I wish things were different.”

Snape blinked a few times, still wanting to lash out at her but unable to so, “I wish they had been different, too.”

“Give me a hug, and then let’s get some rest. I’m sorry for the subterfuge, but it means the world to me that you are in attendance tomorrow.”

Snape hugged her gingerly and watched her leave. He ran his shaking hands through his hair and tried to calm down. After a few minutes he went and scratched at Hermione’s door.

“Professor? You’re not still mad at me?” asked Hermione as she opened the door.

“No. What about you? Am I forgiven?” Hermione smiled and put out her arms to him. He gathered her up into them, and sighed into her hair. “Please stay with me.”

Hermione lifted her mouth to his and he took it hungrily. He lifted her up and placed her on his bed. His kisses careened all over her face and body as if he couldn’t make up his mind as to which area deserved his attention most. He needed to prove to her that he was better than any Bladderwort or other wizard who might want her. He needed her to know that he would love her and make her happy for always. He couldn’t find the words, but at least he could demonstrate what needed to be said.

There was a feral quality to the way he stripped her of her clothes and she wondered at the emotions he must be suppressing from the meeting with his mother. Still he was tender with her when he worked off her undergarments. She was naked before him and he took a moment to simply appraise her.

“Hermione, I need you so much. I’m sorry.” And he buried his face in her breasts. She simply cradled him, not sure if this was a matter of giving him comfort or sex. She eased his clothing off of him and saw that he was quite aroused. Still he refrained from anything more than kissing and nuzzling her breasts.

“Are you quite all right? We don’t have to do anything. I could just hold you tonight.”

“Yes, hold me.” His words were muffled by her breasts. And then he raised his face and she saw the tears. She kissed and licked the tears away and he shivered.

It was an odd sort of lovemaking, aimless and off-balance, two steps forward and one step back. Halfway between the need for a sexual release of tension and the reassurance of love, it had a tentative quality missing from their previous encounters.

Eventually, Hermione felt exhausted and frustrated. She pushed Professor Snape onto his back and took his erection in her mouth. She alternated stroking him with her hands and her swallowing him as fully as her throat would allow. He passively allowed her to do this, tears still springing from his eyes.

When he felt he was about to cum, he moved away from her. “I need to be inside of you,” he whispered. She nodded and he placed his cock over her entrance. They both cried out as he thrust into her and began to pump. She had been aching for him and the sensation of his filling her drove away all thoughts and concerns. Her body took over and she exploded into an intense orgasm born of delayed gratification.

At the feel of his beloved writhing under him, Snape redoubled his efforts and soon his control slipped away. His frustration and need caused him to pump with a frenetic energy. With a muted cry, his over stimulated body finally found release and his pent up emotions sped out of him along with his seed.

The sweat covering their bodies chilled them and they crawled under the covers. Snape clung to Hermione like a drowning man even in his sleep, but her exhaustion was such that she didn’t even turn over once while she slept.

Dawn came and went and they slept through the incessant ringing of the phone. Finally the door was blasted open by the very nervous bridegroom.

“You too, up and at ‘em.” Dumbledore was not pleased. “You are about to make me late for my own wedding. Althea refused to leave without you two.”

Hermione opened her eyes in shock. Headmaster Dumbledore was dressed in a grey crushed velvet morning coat with striped trousers and a top hat. He waved his wand and suddenly she was in a lavender crushed velvet mini dress with flowing sleeves and matching boots. Snape was suddenly attired in an outfit similar to Dumbledore’s.

Snape was still blearily rubbing sleep from his eyes and Dumbledore waved his wand a second time. The bed tilted and dumped them both on the ground. Steaming hot mugs of coffee floated in front of them.

“Now, stop wasting time. The portkey to the chapel goes off in 14 minutes. Drink your coffee. Severus, do a shave and shower spell, you look disgraceful.”

Dumbledore turned on his heel and left. They could hear him speak to Althea, “Yes, my little sugardove, they are ready, nothing to fear my sweetest.” Just before the door banged shut behind him, Hermione caught sight of Althea, looking beautiful in her white vinyl mini dress, go-go boots and veil, which seemed to go perfectly with the crushed velvet of Dumbledore’s outfit.

“Are you alright?” asked Hermione cautiously after Snape put his fist through the wall.

Snape’s face and voice was as inscrutable as a sphinx. “What can we do? Go through with this farce; it’s her funeral.”

“Professor, you can’t mean that. Headmaster Dumbledore would never hurt her-- he loves her.”

Snape grumbled and headed for the bathroom, presumable to clean his bleeding knuckles. Hermione headed to her own room for a quick freshen up.

Hermione, as a Muggleborn, thought she knew what bad taste was. She also thought she knew the meaning of tacky and Kitsch. It was plastic flowers and little ceramic angels all wrapped in pink ribbons and bows. Wizards never had a clue or rather seemed to have an unerring instinct that sought out such things. In fact, the more sentimental and vulgar the better! Still this wedding left her head spinning and uncertain as to whether she knew anything at all.

Professor Dumbledore and the soon-to-be-former Mrs. Snape were absolutely delighted with everything at the chapel-- especially the Elvis impersonator dressed in a white rhinestone studded jumpsuit who serenaded them,

“Wise men say only fools rush in
But I can’t help falling in love with you
Shall I stay
Would it be a sin
If I can’t help falling in love with you”

And then the king joined them (by the power invested in him by the State of Nevada) in holy wedded matrimony. It was over, mercifully, in a few minutes. Then a pimply faced teenager at the electric organ launched into her rendition of “You’re nothing but a Hound Dog.”

Snape said not a word, for the most part keeping his face buried in his hands, and looking very pale. Hermione worked hard to keep a straight face as she threw rice all over the happy couple. And truly, the two lovebirds were in paradise.

A pink stretch limousine was waiting at the curb, with a uniformed driver, also in pink, holding a bottle of pink champagne. He popped the cork and filled two flute glasses. He somberly congratulated the couple, clicked his boots and handed the glasses to the newlyweds. The wedding party got in. The driver removed his sunglasses and asked, “Where to?”

“International House of Pancakes, please!” Dumbledore beamed. “Now you are truly going to have an all Muggle American experience: Eighteen different kinds of pancakes with six different types of syrups and an unending pot of Java. Even our elves can’t manage that!”

The couple snogged almost the entire trip. Snape inwardly groaned and Hermione held his very tense hand.

Snape had said all of two words during the entire morning. Eventually, Althea turned to him during the breakfast and asked him,

“You seem so unhappy, my dear. And this being one of the happiest days of my life, please tell me, what makes you happy.”

Snape frowned even more miserably than before. Dumbledore cleared his throat and kicked Snape hard under the table. Finally Snape said,

“I admit, in hindsight, I liked being a cat.”

Althea’s eyes lit up, even brighter than they were before. “Well, I’m sure Miss Granger could use that spell again.”

Hermione blushed, “I’m sorry. It was just a general transformation spell used in dueling. I was as surprised as anyone that I had turned him into a cat.”

The mood at the table sank a little.

Althea said, “But there must be something else?”

Hermione, feeling sorry for Snape, spoke up, “You mentioned that you would like to teach the Defense against the Dark Arts class.”

Althea turned to Dumbledore, “Then maybe our son could have the position?”

Dumbledore frowned. “Severus, my boy, do you remember Donovan Draggle, Clement Healy, and Peter Wigglesbotham?”

Snape slowly nodded. “They were all in my year and they all died in potions accidents.”

Dumbledore smiled, “Exactly. And how many students have you lost?”

“None.”

“Yes. And you are the only Potion’s professor who has ever had such an unblemished record. Would you really want me to assign you the DADA position, knowing that young lives might be lost through the carelessness of your replacement?”

Snape looked at his plate and his uneaten breakfast.

Althea began to panic. “My child. There must be something, one other little thing, that you care about?”

For a moment a black thundercloud seemed to cover Snape. His face became even more twisted and plainer than usual. He looked up at Hermione and she almost flinched from the expression she saw. “Yes.” He said smoothly and turned to Hermione. He took her hand. “Would you marry me, Miss Granger?”

Hermione went pale. She shook her head and stood up. “I’m sorry. I-I need some time… Please excuse me everyone.”

Snape tried to follow her, but was stopped by his mother and stepfather who both insisted that he give her some space. When he got back to the hotel, her possessions were gone. And he would have followed her back to Britain, but Dumbledore insisted that he stay to please his mother, who forced him on numerous, tedious shopping trips to buy presents for his ‘girlfriend’ and gave him unwanted and unsolicited advice on how to woo a woman. Dumbledore forced him to participate in both nights of the potions expo panel so that his mother could watch him from the audience and beam at how smart her son was. For three days and nights, he was completely under the Headmaster’s thumb and forced to perform all sorts of embarrassing, filial duties to make up for his two decades of neglect. Then, finally, he was released to return to Hogwarts.

On to Chapter Twenty
Back to Chapter Eighteen

Author's Note:
Wise men say only fools rush in
but I can't help falling in love with you
Shall I stay
would it be a sin
If I can't help falling in love with you

Like a river flows surely to the sea
Darling so it goes
some things are meant to be
take my hand, take my whole life too
for I can't help falling in love with you

Like a river flows surely to the sea
Darling so it goes
some things are meant to be
take my hand, take my whole life too
for I can't help falling in love with you
for I can't help falling in love with you

--Elvis