That Hermione meant every word she said was clear.
Part of our family. Both she and her husband had certainly treated him as such during his convalescence.
Severus didn't quite gulp. The sentiment moved him more than it should have. All his life, he'd been able to mock this kind of unwavering devotion, but that was when he was an object of Gryffindor scorn. Not even Albus had ever demonstrated this level of faith in his character.
But she didn't know his true character. All she knew was the unpleasant adult who'd lived like a monk in his dungeons before Harry. She knew nothing of the indiscretions of his youth. She wouldn't be here if she did.
Taking a deep breath, he revealed the truth that he knew would sever their connection forever, "From my first week in Hogwarts, I was Lucius Malfoy's catamite. I wish there were a more genteel term for it, but there isn't. When I was in my second year, three of Lucius' friends joined our little study group and I serviced them as well." Her eyes were huge as saucers as he continued, "After Lucius and his group left school, several of the upper class Slytherins, shall we say, took an interest in me. I was foolish enough to believe that they were my friends. I learned the truth the day I heard two of my 'friends' discussing me privately. It was only then that I realized that I might as well have charged for my services, for all the respect they bore me."
Severus held his breath in the silence that followed. A part of him could not believe that he had revealed these things to Hermione Weasley of his own volition. He forced himself to hold her gaze.
He'd anticipated contempt and disgust. What he didn't expect was for her eyes to cloud up and pain to fill her expression. "Oh, Severus."
Her whisper sounded on the verge of tears.
"Please, spare me your pity -"
"Pity?" Hermione shocked him by reaching across the student's bench to lay her hand on his where it rested on his desk. She was touching him? "You're my friend. How could I fail to be upset by something which hurt you like that?"
Once again, he could read only truth in her open features. She was upset on his behalf?
Panicked, because this wasn't a reaction he was prepared to deal with, he asked the only question that made sense, "Did you fail to understand what I said?"
Perhaps she was unfamiliar with the term he'd used. He didn't want to be any blunter, but he didn't want her misinterpreting him.
"You just told me you were taken advantage of in your first year at school. You can't think that I'd . . . ." She seemed to read exactly what he'd been thinking in his face. "For God's sake, Severus. You didn't really expect me to . . . ."
"Turn your back on me forever?" he voiced his deepest fear in what he hoped was a sardonic tone. He knew how proper and honourable she was. There was nothing of either in what he'd done.
He knew her well enough to believe that she wouldn't circulate what he'd told her beyond her husband and Harry, but he'd fully expected her to want nothing further to do with him.
"You think that I'd . . . that Harry would stop caring about you because of something that happened years before we were born?" Hermione asked.
"No one would blame you for disassociating yourself from someone with such . . . an unsavoury background," Severus said with as much calm as he could muster. This wasn't going at all as he'd planned. She was supposed to be on her feet and out the door, not sitting there holding his hand, watching him like he were breaking her heart the way he had Harry's last night.
"Unsavoury? You were eleven years old. Consider what you're saying. Think about how you'd react if it were one of our first year students who'd been taken advantage of by an older student this way. Would it be the first year who earned your censure?" she asked.
He stared at her as if she'd cast a petrification spell on him, unable to move, barely able to breathe as her question ripped through him.
"Well, who would you hold responsible?" she prodded. "The first year or the older student?"
"I . . . I was a willing participant," Severus protested, unwilling to allow her to paint this into some Gryffindor tragedy.
"You were eleven years old. Children do some very desperate things to fit into their peer groups," Hermione said.
"You would never have done anything so . . . unseemly," Severus said.
"Don't be so sure about that. I had Ron and Harry from my first few weeks in school. It doesn't sound like you were that lucky when it came to friends. I know what it's like not to fit in. Before Hogwarts, I spent the entire six years I was in school friendless," she said.
"Loneliness is hardly a fitting excuse for prostituting oneself," Severus argued.
"You didn't prostitute yourself," Hermione insisted. "You were a child who was preyed upon by older classmates. None of this is . . . anything that could come between us. It certainly isn't anything that would drive Harry away."
"It's something I can't stand him knowing," Severus said, feeling almost nauseous from his conflicting emotions. He would be grateful to Hermione until the day he died for the kindness she was extending to him on this subject. Yet, for all her assurances, everything in him still cringed under the memories of the horrific mistakes he'd made.
"It doesn't change the man you are," Hermione said. "Harry loves you."
Feeling trapped, Severus said, "You don't understand. You've always been good and brave and kind. You've always done the right thing and made the right choices. I . . . haven't."
"I don't understand what that has to do with this," Hermione said, appearing genuinely confused. "Harry knows you. He loves you."
"From the start, it has been difficult for me to ignore how . . . inappropriate it is for Harry to be with me this way," Severus admitted.
"Inappropriate?" she echoed as if she didn't understand the definition of the word.
"I'm old enough to be his father. He ignores the age difference. My days with Voldemort have scarred me a social leper. He acts as if the rest of the world holding me in contempt means nothing to him."
"How is that a problem?" Hermione questioned.
Severus found his gaze dropping to where her hand still rested on top of his newly grown hand. "Harry is already overlooking more than any man should be asked to deal with. To expect him to forgive this as well . . . ."
"Don't you get it? He loves you! There's nothing to forgive." Hermione said. "You make him happy. That's all that Harry cares about."
Severus took a deep breath before saying, "He is meant for something better than spoilt goods."
"My God! You're doing this for Harry's sake?"
She couldn't be as appalled as she sounded. Surely, even if she could forgive him his indiscretions, she had to realize how unsuitable he was for Harry?
"I should never have allowed things to go this far," Severus said. "It's better for all involved if it ends now."
Hermione was silent for a long moment.
Severus forced himself to bear her examination.
Finally, she asked in a soft, tentative tone, "Severus, did you ever think that perhaps it's you who needs to forgive yourself?"
"There's no forgiving certain acts, only living with them."
For a second, she seemed prepared to argue his statement, then she took a different line of reasoning, "This isn't the time to make this kind of decision. You just went through a terrible trauma. You're upset. You're confused," she said.
"Are you questioning my sanity?" he demanded.
"No. You've every right to be crazy after what that bastard did to you, but somehow you managed to stay sane. But . . . that doesn't mean you're thinking straight. Harry mentioned that Burke used his mental skills to torment you. Can you be sure that these things you're saying are how you really feel and not ideas Burke implanted in your mind? Remember what he did to poor Carl. He was more than capable of brainwashing someone."
Severus shivered. He could hear Burke calling him a snivelling coward as he raped his mind. He could feel him examining every memory of his time with Harry and showing him how unworthy he was of Harry's regard. He'd known it all along, of course, but Burke had made certain facts clear.
"Burke didn't tell me anything I hadn't known all along," Severus said at last. He felt so brittle that the compassion in her warm, brown eyes nearly shattered him.
"But before Burke, Harry was important enough for you to try to make things work," Hermione said. "Don't you see? That monster manipulated you."
"Before Burke's revelation, I was able to bask in Potter's ignorance of certain facts. Now that he knows . . . there is no pretence, no hiding who and what I am."
"Doesn't that make it easier, though?" she asked. "There's no need to hide. Harry knows, and it doesn't matter to him."
"It matters to me," Severus said.
They both started as the bell, signalling the change of period, rang.
"Damn," Hermione cursed. "I've got to get up to my classroom. Severus, what you said will go no further. Thank you for trusting me."
"I didn't do it out of trust," he protested.
She glanced at the door to ensure that they were still alone before quickly saying, "I know, and I know how much you're hurting and how much you love Harry. You can work through this."
"There's nothing to work through."
"Yes, there is. That monster Burke does not get to destroy your life. You're a good man. You deserve to be happy, so does Harry. I know you're not going to be interested in this now, but . . . I have a friend who helps people heal mentally and emotionally after the kind of trauma you suffered. He helped Carl handle what Burke did to him."
"You're talking about a Muggle psychiatrist," Severus said, remembering Harry mentioning that Mr. Westfield had been consulting a Muggle doctor.
"John's a Squib. Do you remember Lydia Penbroke?" she asked.
"Slytherin, five years your senior," Severus automatically answered, wondering how she would know Miss Penbroke. He knew for a fact that Potter and his cronies hadn't associated with anyone in his house during their school days, certainly not a Slytherin five years older than them.
"John's her brother."
"How do you know Miss Penbroke and her family?" he asked.
"It's Mrs. Forrester now," Hermione startled him yet again by correcting him. "She married right after school."
"That still doesn't explain your acquaintanceship," he reminded. It took a good ten minutes for a class to make it down to his Potions dungeon from Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class out in the field. They should have perhaps nine minutes of privacy before his next class started to filter in. Hermione, would, of course, be late for her next class up in the Arithmancy tower, but this conversation had been her idea.
"Lydia has a son, Marcus, her only child. He was a very sick little boy. His only joy was quidditch. He, um, worshipped Harry when he was on the Cannons. There was a point when Marcus was in St. Mungo's, dying. One of Lydia's cousins had a child in my Arithmancy class who told her that Harry sometimes came to visit me at Hogwarts. Lydia came to me to ask if I'd get Harry to send her boy an autographed picture. She thought it would help raise his spirits."
"Potter did it, of course," Severus said, still not understanding how any of this would lead to Hermione knowing Lydia Penbroke's family well enough to have met a Squib brother.
"Not exactly. Harry brought his entire team down to meet Marcus. He'd asked me to come introduce him to Lydia, and, well, her brother John was visiting Marcus the day Harry and his teammates came. John and I got to talking about the need the Wizarding World has for people in his field, and, well . . . we've been fast friends ever since."
"I see," he said. Curious, he asked. "The boy lived?"
"Marcus should receive his Hogwarts letter this year," Hermione said with a smile. The story had a happy ending, of course. Gryffindors would accept nothing less.
Severus had to credit her, for her next words proved that Hermione knew what to say to best persuade him. He wouldn't go, of course, but it was clear she knew him well enough to know what approach to take. Harry had never been this devious. "Lydia's entire family have been in Slytherin house for centuries. John knows all about the Wizarding World. No one need ever know you consulted him. He's helped a lot of wizards through difficult periods. "
"Is that what you call this . . . a 'difficult period'?" Severus questioned.
Hermione's face was shining with the serene certainty that Severus had seen depicted in the pictures his Muggle grandmother had of Muggle saints as she replied, "Yes. You will get through this, without losing Harry."
He was saved a reply by the noisy arrival of the first of his third year Potions class.
She quickly withdrew her hand from his before any of the students entered the class far enough to see that they were touching. Standing up from the student's bench, she said, "I'm late."
For all that it had seemed he might never smile again after last night, he couldn't help but give her a small one at her expression. "Yes, you are."
"You really need to work on being less gleeful about the misfortunes of others," Hermione commented, but she was grinning.
"Such small joys get me through the day," he answered, unable to believe that she would actually joke with him the morning after he'd dumped her best friend.
"Right," she said. "Before I go, here's John's card. Please don't incinerate it until I've left the room. He's on the floo network. If you should decide to go and want some company, I'd be more than happy to go with you." As she placed a small white card of thick parchment on his desk, she lowered her voice so that the children grouped in the back of the classroom curiously watching them wouldn't hear her next words, "Harry need never know."
