This is my tribute to Alan Rickman, a personal hero, a terrific actor and by all accounts, a wonderful human being.

It's okay to grieve for someone you never knew, and I have certainly grieved more than I would ever have expected for the death of an actor.

As Albus Dumbledore once said "to hurt is as human as to breath."

R.I.P Alan Rickman

1946 - 2016


*"I have your word, Harry Potter, that you will give me the sword of Gryffindor if I help you?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"Then shake," said the goblin, holding out his hand.

Harry took it and shook.*

Though the deception made her uneasy, Hermione could see no other way.

And then the three of them began spending hours a day cooped up in the tiny bedroom with a goblin, beginning to form a plan that seemed even more ridiculous than when they broke into the Ministry.


It was one week after they had arrived at Shell Cottage, and Hermione was once again pacing the garden at 2 in the morning, a heavy excitement tingling in her bones. When his hand finally found hers, she was unable to stop the smile spreading across her face.

As soon as she finished her protective enchantments, she felt a hand on her arm and she threw her arms around him before she'd even had a chance to look at him. After a few moments, she lifted her head to stare into those beautiful, soulful eyes, and then pulled his head down to hers, kissing him brutally, grabbing his hair, pressing herself tightly against him.

"I'm pleased to see you, can you tell?" She asked breathlessly, her heart missing a beat as a smile lifted Severus' pale face.

"I take it you're feeling a little better?" His velvet voice washed over.

"Much better." She beamed.

They looked at one another for a moment, and for some reason, Hermione suspected that the inexplicable light-heartedness she was feeling was spreading to Severus too.

"How's you week been?"

"The same as usual."

"So absolutely shite then?"

His laugh made goosebumps erupt over her arms.

"I think that's a pretty succinct summary, Hermione."

She ginned, and then began kissing him once again, his mouth hot and demanding and … happy. Hermione pulled back to undo the buttons on his cuffs.

"You do the rest." She said. "I want to watch."

A smirk lifted his mouth as he silently assessed her, then he complied, and she watched, mesmerised as his thin fingers deftly popped each button through the holes. His gaze was heated when she looked back up at him, but insecurity still glimmered in the depths of his eyes, so Hermione stepped closer, and pushed the garment off his shoulders.

"You're beautiful." She told him.

"Don't be-"

But she stopped him before he got the chance to finish by grabbing his face and kissing him once more. His arms brushed over her body, tugging her pyjama top up, and she slipped out of it, the feel of his hands on her skin sending a shiver over her. He chuckled.

"What is it?" She asked, smiling back at him.

"Your … mane." He answered.

Hermione lifted a hand to her hair; pulling her pyjama top off had ruffled it up somewhat. If anyone else had laughed at her hair, Hermione would have been cross and self-conscious, but as it was she just wanted to laugh. Normal rules just didn't seem to apply to Severus.

"I'm a Gryffindor!" She grinned.

"And don't I know it." He answered, grinning back at her.

And then everything seemed to go up a notch. She moved closer to him, carefully undoing the buttons of his shirt, making sure not to touch him, unless he told her otherwise. As he discarded it to one side, and brought his eyes back up to hers, Hermione struggled to keep her hands to herself, itching, aching to touch his bare chest.

"Can I?"

He regarded her cautiously for a moment, then held his hand out. She followed suit, and he grasped the back of her wrist, and brought her hand slowly to him. When her fingers finally, finally touched him, they both shivered, and she felt the pounding of his heart under her palm. Hermione went to change position ever so slightly, but Severus, his hand still covering the back of hers, quickly stopped her.

"I need…"

"Control." She finished for him. "I know, that's fine Severus. Really."

He nodded, bringing his head down to rest on hers, his dark, limp hair curtaining her as they both looked at their joined hands.

"That scar," she said quietly, relishing in just how much he was giving to her. "I want to touch it."

It was the largest, most noticeable and ragged one on his pale torso, spanning almost entirely across his chest. It was the one she'd reached for back in Grimmauld Place, when Severus had flinched away from her so violently.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted her hand, bringing it higher, and allowed her fingers to touch the upper edge, where it began.

"You don't have to." She gently reminded him, his initial flinch and shallow breathing hurting her heart.

"I know." He assured her, and in time, he began to guide her gradually down the length of it.

It felt … odd, hard. Not what skin should feel like. Part of Hermione was dreadfully sad that someone had given the man she loved so deeply that scar, but another part was rejoicing, desperately, pathetically happy that he was allowing her this.

"I love you."

His confession came unexpectedly, and Hermione blinked.

"I love you too Severus. Very, very much."

His heart was beating so furiously she could see it moving the skin of his chest, his breathing was rapid, and it was almost a relief when they reached the end of the scar, and Severus released her hand. Not stopping to even draw a breath, Hermione flung her arms around him, and began peppering his face with kisses, his chuckle delighting her, before she found his mouth, and everything else began to flit away.


Hermione was staring at Severus Snape's bear torso.

"Can I?"

Adrenaline shot through him, fear tightening his stomach, but he regarded her cautiously for a moment, then held his hand out. She followed suit, and he grasped the back of her wrist, and brought it slowly to him. His flesh felt like it was crawling, longing for her touch, and terrified of it in equal measure. He was so, so afraid of giving even more to her, he trusted her not to hurt him, he did, but it just wasn't that easy to erase a lifetime of pain. When her fingers finally, finally touched him, they both shivered, and it felt as if everything was spinning, twisting round him, his whole being existing around the feel of her cool palm on his chest. Hermione went to change position ever so slightly, but Severus, his hand still covering the back of hers, quickly stopped her.

"I need…"

"Control." She finished for him. "I know, that's fine Severus. Really."

He nodded, and fear rose in his heart once again. For so long he would have given the earth to have someone in his life like her, someone who understood him so completely, but it brought him such terror, because it could still fall apart around him in tatters, he could still ruin this. He needed her, this beautiful witch who had given him more than he knew it was possible to give, and he brought his head down to rest on hers, his dark, limp hair curtaining her as they both looked at their joined hands.

"That scar," she said quietly, her warm breath reaching his chest and making his skin tingle. "I want to touch it."

Severus had gained a shaky sense of control back in the moments since Hermione had laid her hand over his heart, but it now fell around him in ruins. He knew he would never understand her desire to touch the parts of him that were so vile. But she had tried to, all those months ago in Grimmauld Place, and it appeared she'd been depriving herself of that all this time, for his sake.

Slowly, he lifted her hand, bringing it higher, and allowed her fingers to touch the upper edge. He flinched when her fingers came into contact with the scar, not because he didn't trust her, but because it was just so, so intense.

"You don't have to." She gently reminded him, and her understanding, her goodness, once gain struck him.

"I know." He assured her, and in time, he began to guide her gradually down the length of it.

It was the most mind blowing experience Severus had ever had. It was as if every sense he possessed had suddenly come to life. He could smell a flowery scent in her hair, he could feel her breath against his skin like a wind, and above and beyond all of that, was the feel of her fingers moving across his skin. It was as if something had awoken inside of him, and a need, savage and neglected ripped through him, taking everything away, his emotions came crashing to the surface, gasping for air, and his hunger, his need for her was so desperate, so all-consuming he could barely breathe.

"I love you."

His confession came tearing from his mouth, his voice almost breaking.

"I love you too Severus. Very, very much." She answered, not missing a beat, and he wondered if she could tell how hard he was having to work to suppress his trembling.

When they reached the end of the scar, Severus released her hand, without thinking, unconsciously trusting her not to take more than she was given. Not stopping to even draw a breath, Hermione flung her arms around him, and began peppering his face with kisses, and he chuckled, feeling giddy and free and delighted, before she found his mouth, and everything else began to flit away. Everything was heightened, the feel of her lips on his, her hands in his hair, her bear skin against his, even the gentle breeze wafting through the clearing, and the smell of the grass danced in his awareness. His body was responding to hers so acutely he felt weak from it, and the depth of his feeling for her made his eyes sting.

With a smile, she dropped to her knees before him and undid his boots, helping him keep his balance as he stepped out of them, then feeling humbled and shy as she peeled off his socks. Hermione kicked her own shoes off as she stood, and pulled her pyjama bottoms down, standing gloriously and unselfconsciously naked before him. Part of him was honoured that she was like this him, as he was sure she'd never been so confident in her own skin when she was at Hogwarts. But he didn't want to think of her then, so he quickly pulled his mind back to the present, and watched as she undid his trousers, and pulled then down with his underwear, so they were both naked, in every sense of the word, together. Before she straightened up, Hermione bent down further, and kissed the scar on his leg.

"Fluffy?" She asked as she stood.

"Yes." He answered, his throat tight and his voice hoarse, the action affecting him more than he thought it would.

"I want to do that to every single scar you have." She told him.

Something of the fear that had shot through him at her words must have shown on his face, because a bittersweet smile crossed her mouth as she spoke to him.

"Not yet. I know not yet Severus. But one day."

And before he could respond, before he could get any sort of a hold on himself, she was kissing him again, and there was something so beautiful, so reassuring in the way she kissed him, he felt like … someone almost worthy. As a huge, surging rush of affection for her shot through his blood stream, he lifted her bodily into the air, and pulled her against him, somehow managing to push inside her in a single movement.

Hermione gasped, searching his face for some sort of indication as to what he was doing, and she must have found it, because she relaxed into his arms, wrapping her legs more firmly around him, pulling him in deeper, enfolding her arms around his neck, and then just holding him.

It was perfect. She was everywhere, possessing every part of him, her sweet smelling hair on his face, every possible part of her body against his and in that moment, she belonged to him. And he certainly belonged to her, more than she would ever know.

As his arms began to tire, he slowly sunk to his knees, still inside her, and then lowered her onto the ground.

"Is this uncomfortable?" He asked breathlessly, worried he'd put her on a rock or something.

"This is perfect." She answered, and he felt his face split into a smile.

Because it was.

Severus wanted to move slowly above her, he wanted her to see the stars through the trees, he wanted them to build gently together, in harmony, but the dizzying need he'd felt for her earlier came soaring back into him. His desire, his desperation for her drove his hips forwards again and again, faster and faster, and Hermione was moaning and squirming beneath him, her eyes squeezed shut or staring into his with a pressure that felt on the verge of legilimency. He could smell the musky scent of her sweat and arousal, and everything was becoming too intense to bare, and he just needed and needed and needed…

He felt her orgasm rip through her, her back arched from the ground and brought her breasts up to his body, she tensed, shaking, squeezing him to a point of near discomfort and groaned his name into the night. He came almost immediately after her, his orgasm was strong, so terrifying and consuming and wonderful it stole every breath from his lungs, robbing him of sight and hearing and everything. But he could sense his Hermione beneath him, and he came back to himself in her arms, once again pressed on top of her.

And Severus Snape had never been so happy.


I'll aim to have the rest of this chapter/next installment up in a few weeks, I just needed to do something to acknowledge the passing of a true great, I've been such a fan of his for so long. I'll also be answering reviews from the last chapter soon as well, they won't go ignored, that's a promise.

A world free of Alan Rickman makes me very, very sad.

*text in between asterisks* from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - J.K Rowling