DISCLAIMER: Not mine! It's all J. K. Rowling's.

BETA READERS: GinnyW and Annie Talbot – thank you very much!

A/N: Chapter Thirty Three! Severus finds himself living a double life again, and Nathan is about to be introduced to wizarding society.

Chapter 33: Addiction

Hermione went home that week with many doubts and a weakened resolve. She had known it wouldn't be easy to ignore her feelings for Severus, but she had hoped his antagonistic attitude and sharp cruelty towards her would make it somehow easier. The man she'd found during the weekend at Hogwarts could not have been the same wizard, though. Severus had been almost agreeable. She would even dare label him as approachable.

Her feeble defenses were tumbling down.

If she hadn't confronted him on Sunday, it was only because Nathan had been with them, otherwise Hermione would have made a fool of herself again, professing her love for him one more pathetic time.

This wouldn't do. Hermione had to be stronger if she wanted her heart to survive this forced acquaintance until Nathan was strong enough to deal with his father on his own.

Then she could stop meeting him every week.

It hurt just to think of such time ever coming.

At least I can keep the dreams, her mind tried to trick her into believing, making Hermione roll her eyes at herself.

She couldn't keep Severus in her subconscious and pretend she had gotten over him. Severus couldn't be a man hiding in her mind. Hermione would be miserable, and that was not how she wanted to end her days. That was not how she would find someone to share life with her. Nathan would come back from Hogwarts a grown man, and that's how it should be, and it was time to get ready for that.

And Severus didn't want her.

Even though he offered me wine in such a flirty way.

And with that thought, Hermione lost another battle. It was useless; she needed help!

Erica, Hermione thought. She'll help me. She stopped pacing her living room to go to her neighbor, long-time friend, and best chance of sound advice.

~o0oOo0o~

"Are you really suggesting I start seeing William?" Hermione asked, not quite enjoying the prospect.

"He's very much taken by you, which should be what every bachelor who knows you should feel," Erica pointed out in another way of criticizing Severus' attitude, "and he's your friend already. Don't you like spending time with him?"

"Well, I do, but—"

"No buts, Hermione. If you want to forget an old love, you have to replace it with a new one. It'll be fun, you'll see. Just give William a chance." Erica nodded for emphasis and contradicted Hermione's less than enthusiastic response to her advice.

"I don't know, Erica. It doesn't feel right to involve William like this."

"Nonsense," Hermione's friend dismissed. "He'll love every minute of it." Erica smiled, and it seemed to Hermione that she actually knew what she was talking about.

Hermione sighed.

"All right, I'll think about it."

"Excellent!" Erica clapped her hands in excitement as if Hermione's mind was already made.

The only thing Hermione actually knew was that she had to stop loving Severus Snape. Every morning she woke up tangled in the tendrils of Severus' presence in her dreams, it made her want to cry in frustration, so she agreed with Erica and had asked William to a dinner date. She didn't care what he thought of this sudden decision on her part; Hermione just really, really wanted to move on with her life.

~o0oOo0o~

"Wow," Nathan said quietly.

"What is it?" Severus asked, mildly confused by the boy's reaction.

"You completely missed my knight there." Nathan grinned, moving said piece forward. "Checkmate," he said cheerfully.

Severus frowned but then relaxed his face with a sigh. It wasn't as if he was seeing much of anything after two nights in a row spent with Hermione in her dreams. He dropped his black king and announced, "It's getting late. I'll walk you to your House."

"Just because I won?" Nathan protested.

Severus glared at that. "We both have classes in the morning." He arched an eyebrow and defied the boy to challenge his authority.

"Right," Nathan agreed, losing some of his joy.

Severus made an effort to show some appreciation, then. "I enjoy playing chess with you," he commented while he placed his pieces in their box.

Nathan smiled and started to help him. "I do, too. I have to think much harder than when I play with Andy or Kevin if I want to win."

"It's only natural. It takes time and practice to achieve mastery in the game, and I've been playing for much longer than you have," Severus agreed and took the chess set to place it on a cupboard in his bedroom.

"What other games do you play?" Nathan inquired from the doorway.

"Gobstones," he answered distractedly, his mind now on the discomfort of having a student in his most private room, son or not.

"I've heard of it but never played or seen anyone playing it," Nathan confessed, completely unaware of Severus' discomfort.

"I learned it with my mother when I was a kid. She actually favored that over chess," Severus revealed, leading them back to the sitting room.

"Is she a witch, then?" Nathan asked.

The whole situation was making Severus realize how little they actually talked about each other's lives during their time together and also how hard it was for him to open up and let his son in. "She was," he answered, carefully revealing more than was asked, testing his own limits.

Nathan, bright as he was, caught his meaning. "Oh."

Before the boy could make the next question, Severus anticipated, "My father was a Muggle, and he also died a long time ago."

"I'm sorry," Nathan offered.

Severus didn't feel the same way, but he didn't need to tell his son that. The moment was awkward enough, already, and the silence was making it even more so. It was time to cut this evening short. "Let's get going."

They walked side by side through the corridors of Hogwarts. The students who crossed their path didn't give them a second glance, and for the first time, Severus realized that the students didn't think it was anything out of the ordinary to see Professor Snape and Mr. Granger walking together.

Curiously, Severus didn't feel much differently anymore. Knowing that their relationship wasn't solely based on these turbulent, awkward few months made it easier to accept the fact that he was the father of a twelve-year-old boy. Their souls had been connected from the beginning, and Severus could finally understand the seemingly foreign feelings he had for Nathan.

They could care for each other, and it was all right.

Nathan's reaction to the extra-corporeal experience under the Anima Liberta was clear and understandable to Severus, now.

"Dad," his son called, the title sending a warm wave into Severus' heart, "do you live in the castle all the time?" The question took Severus by surprise. "I mean, where do you go during the holidays and breaks, when there are no classes?"

Of course, since Severus had just told Nathan something about his parents, it was only natural that his mind would want to know more. Would Severus want to reveal more, though? Could he ever take Nathan to the horrors of Spinner's End?

Deciding, he looked at the boy and said, "I usually stay in the castle." It was better to leave Spinner's End out of Nathan's life for now.

"All of the time? Even during the long breaks like summer?" Nathan insisted.

"I'm usually invited to stay somewhere else for a few days, and sometimes I accept those invitations."

That seemed to satisfy Nathan's curiosity because the questions stopped, but it caused Severus to think… How would it be when Nathan was on summer break and away from the castle? Would they be apart until the next term started? Severus didn't like that idea very much. He'd gotten used to the boy's presence; he wasn't only Nathan's teacher, but the boy's father.

They were by Fat Lady's portrait when Nathan spoke again. "You could come and stay with me when the classes are over. There's plenty of space for another bed in my room." Nathan smiled.

Severus was amazed by the invitation, it had been so unexpected. "Thank you, but I don't think that would work out well."

"I'm sure Mum wouldn't mind. I could talk to her for you." Another smile. "Good night, Dad."

Living with Hermione… Severus shook his head to clear it of the wonderful but impossible idea and started his walk back to his quarters. He would visit her under the spell tonight.

Again.

Severus sighed. He would never get a good night's sleep again.

~o0oOo0o~

As much as it tired him, Severus continued to visit Hermione, using the spell that freed his soul. He'd told himself that he shouldn't abuse it, but it was getting harder and harder to go through a day without the joys only her soul could bring—something completely different from anything he'd ever felt.

When he went to bed intending to sleep a full night, he closed his eyes, and the absence of that energy—which he didn't want to call love—made him feel like he'd gone to bed starving. Especially when he'd had a trying day or had spent time with Nathan, Severus just couldn't hold back, and he made use of the spell to get to wherever she was, no matter how drained he'd be on the following morning.

It didn't matter if it was a few corridors or miles away, if she was in Hogwarts or in London, Severus had always been able to find her. He needed only think of her, and it was like she was summoning him with that wonderful magnetism of hers. One blink, and the thought of her guided him. Another blink, and he was with her wherever she was. So easy… so irresistible….

More irresistible even was getting to her early to find her still awake, giving him some glimpses of her daily life before they were to meet in her dreams. Three evenings ago had been such an evening, and he'd found her reading, reclined on a comfortable-looking armchair in her apartment in London. Her peacefulness calmed him from his troubled day, something that Severus couldn't remember ever happening in the presence of anyone else—not even Lily. It was scary and pleasant both to realize how much her presence in the same room could be reassuring. That, added to the fact that she couldn't see him, was addictive. He could watch her expressions without reserve, and every different smile, the lines that would show in her face when he least expected, still felt very new to him.

On the following evening, he arrived at Hermione's apartment and had felt a moment of disorientation, probably due to the sudden assault by unexpected music to some senses he didn't know were so perceptive. Severus had looked around and had found her in the kitchen area, cooking in rhythm to the pleasant sound. She moved with grace, he had to notice; a grace different than the one he perceived in her while she worked with potions. She hummed and sang along quietly, helping him remember her warm voice whispering closely to his ear the night before. He was getting used to her voice, now that it came with a number of lovely words that revolved things deep within his soul.

And tonight she had come to him, and she hadn't come alone, either. Severus had seen her in the Great Hall earlier, and watching her, knowing that she was unaware of the nights they'd spent together, had been more uncomfortable than he'd predicted. It made him wonder if she could remember her dreams, and if that were the case, what had she been thinking when she'd looked back at him with those shinny eyes and thoughtful expression before greeting him during dinner.

Nathan, on the other hand, was simply smiling at him, sweetly and innocently, and the fact that this was the first time he'd seen the boy's soul since that first experience with Hermione in her quarters made him feel somewhat guilty. His soul should have visited his son's more.

"I knew it!" Nathan exclaimed. "You are using the spell!" He seemed happy with his findings instead of irritated, as Severus thought he would be.

"I thought we could spend some time together, but I was hoping you would be dreaming tonight." Hermione's usual reproach to his constant use of Anima Liberta never escaped his notice, but it was always quickly dismissed.

"I needed to see you," Severus confessed. It was so easy to be honest with her in this state, when he knew she wouldn't remember tomorrow.

"I am only a few floors away, as I'm sure you know. The thought of actually visiting me has never occurred you, though, has it?" she asked with strong reproach.

This highly irritated version of Hermione was new to him, and Severus was struck by the surprising force of the shame he felt for his cowardice. When he'd seen her in the Great Hall, she'd smiled, and his first impulsive response had been to go after her and kiss her senselessly. Of course, he soon realized he'd been in the middle of a hall full of loud children and adults overly interested in the lives of others, and worse, they were all very much awake.

"Why are you mad at Dad, Mom?" Nathan censured her and came to hug Severus as if to show her how she should be treating him.

Severus smiled at his boy, enclosing him in a one-arm hug for a short moment, and then looked back at Hermione. "She's not mad at me, Nathan. Are you, Hermione?"

Still glaring, she walked to where they were standing and placed a peck on Severus' cheek. "Of course I am," she told him, contradicting her attitude completely.

Her antagonistic behavior was making him both apprehensive and amused. If she were really angry at him, he would have felt it, right? If he couldn't feel her anger, then maybe her words weren't really heartfelt. He smirked. She narrowed her eyes at him. His smirk turned into a genuine smile.

"We have a meeting tomorrow, in any case," Severus tried to placate her. Then, aiming for a distraction, he directed his question to Nathan, "What were your plans for the evening?"

"Since you're not dreaming…" Nathan turned to his mother to ask, "We're still sticking to the plan, right?"

"Yes, of course," she answered, still very much vexed, he noticed. "It's Friday, there's snow, and we're going to the grounds; don't ruin it," Hermione told Severus gravely and left without waiting for them.

Well, maybe she was a bit angry after all.

"She doesn't like surprises, is all," Nathan told him, keeping that happy little smile in place. "Come on. You won't like it if she has to come back for us."

The snow covering the grounds of Hogwarts was bright in the moonlight—shiny, even, as if it had a light of its own. Severus walked side by side with Hermione, too lost in bitter thoughts to appreciate the unnatural brightness. Like Hermione, he didn't like surprises, and going for a walk through the grounds of the castle wasn't what he'd planned for this evening. Also not on his list was spending time with a moody Hermione.

"You're still upset," he decided to comment, that high was his level of annoyance with her behavior.

"Well, that goes without saying. You're a constant source of frustration." She looked everywhere but at him, and it was infuriating, until she added, her voice lower than usual, "I'm worried."

Severus frowned. She was starting to worry him, too, but probably for completely different reasons. "Worried about what?" he asked tentatively, avoiding the word "who" with cost but trying very hard not to show it.

Hermione didn't answer, and they stood next to each other in silence. Severus realized Nathan was ahead of them but had stopped also—only he was busy with the snow. When Severus was about to take advantage of the boy's distance to press her for an answer, her voice reached him, strangled.

"I'm very concerned about you." She turned to him, then, and what hit him on the chest were waves of something familiar but very much underneath much sharper feelings. The fact that she'd told him that what she felt was concern was what kept him from trembling with nerves. "I thought you cared for our future," she added.

"You were supposed to be building your forts!" Nathan yelled from where he was, now behind a pile of snow. It called his parents' attention in time for both to see him take an amount of snow from the ground. "Ready or not!" A snowball missed Hermione's shoulder, but not by far.

"Hey!" She quickly went for some snow to throw back at Nathan, and taking an already dumbfounded Severus completely off guard, placed him between her and Nathan. One snowball passed close to his left leg, and the next one hit him square on the chest.

This was war. Severus ran for protection.

~o0oOo0o~

Panting, held to the snowy ground with surprising strength by Nathan, Severus conceded defeat. "I'm much too old for this."

Hermione laughed, picking herself up from the ground. "Off your poor, old father," she told their son. She offered a hand to help Severus up when Nathan was off him. He took her hand, but instead of leaving the ground, Severus pulled her down to him.

Face to face with her, Severus held Hermione firmly by the waist. "Maybe not that old," he pointed out before kissing her lips for the first time that night—very satisfying.

"Would you stop that?" Nathan asked. "It's disgusting and embarrassing."

Hermione ended the kiss and smiled adoringly at Severus in that way he could only answer by smiling back. She punched him lightly on the chest. "You, Slytherin, you," she said before rolling over to his side.

Severus held a hand out for Nathan. "Help us up," he told the boy.

Nathan looked calculatingly at the stretched hand. "You're pulling me to the ground, aren't you?"

"Are you denying your old man a hand?" Severus inquired in his best intimidating voice.

Nathan hesitated only another second, but fell for it. As soon as their hands touched, Severus pulled Nathan, screaming protests of unfairness, to the snow between him and Hermione.

Severus couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so hard and of pure happiness—one that felt permanent. How could lying there in the snow with his son and woman after such a display of carefree silliness be so fulfilling? Maybe he knew even less about happiness than he'd originally thought.

Not much later, already back into the warmth of his quarters, Hermione's cheerfulness and talkative nature had slipped off her soul's exterior. With Nathan back to his own dormitory, Severus held her on the couch next to him in contemplative silence.

"You're still worried," Severus pointed out. "Even after what we shared tonight, you're still afraid that our future is in danger."

"What future?" she answered rhetorically.

"Why, Hermione? I thought I'd proven that my intentions—"

"You can't have both, Severus," she told him. "You can't live in both realities forever. You're torturing yourself by dreaming awake, trying to be here for your family, but letting us go the moment you wake up. Can't you see that?"

He knew she was right about the torture of waking up every day without them, but she was completely wrong if she thought he couldn't ignore the pain for what he did have with them in dreams. Severus would never allow the certainty of what he had in dreams for the chance of losing everything.

"I want you in my life, Severus, not only in my dreams. Come to me when we're both awake. Come in the morning, spend the day with me. Give me a chance to remember you the way you really are. Let me know how you feel about me, instead of leaving me to guess on the basis of intuition alone," she pleaded, and he could feel her despair all too well.

What Severus could do was to pull her against his chest and hold her tight.

What Severus couldn't do was go after her when she was awake.

~o0oOo0o~

"I was thinking that we could spend a different evening and have dinner in my quarters tonight," Hermione said.

She hoped Severus wouldn't catch the real reason for her request; she could never tell him that she was more susceptible to his charms in his quarters, now, could she? The way he'd been looking at her as of late was enough to turn her resolve into nothing more than a lazy intent. No, she didn't think she could take the risk.

"Your quarters?" he questioned.

When the expected indignation didn't follow, Hermione felt obliged to answer politely, "Yes, just for a change, to see how Nathan reacts to a new dynamic." Nathan, never herself.

"I have no objections," he agreed without further ado. "Same time?"

Hermione felt suddenly insecure. "Yes, sure," she confirmed. Not knowing what to do in his presence anymore, she turned to go, looking over her shoulder only for a quick moment before closing his office's door behind her.

~o0oOo0o~

"Why are we staying here tonight?" Nathan questioned after seating himself on the couch to wait for his father.

"I thought it would be good to host the dinners from time to time. Polite, even, don't you think?"

"If you say so…."

"You know it is. I taught you better than this, young man, so stop sulking. I remember very well who had to be dragged to the dungeons for these dinners only months ago, and it wasn't me."

"All right, but that was then. Now we play chess, and you don't have a chess set here."

"No, I don't, but I'm sure we'll find something else to entertain your poor, bored soul."

"Does this change have anything to do with you being pants at chess?"

"Don't be silly," Hermione dismissed, still more focused on the paper she'd been scribbling on than anywhere else. She only noticed that some time had passed in silence when Nathan talked again.

"You know, you're just like him sometimes," he commented.

Her interest picked, she left the paper alone and turned her attention to Nathan. "What did you say?"

"I said that you're just like my dad sometimes," he repeated, confirming what she thought she'd heard, and added, "He also studies and works all the time, even when he's talking to other people."

"I'm sorry," she apologized, feeling chastised. She left her papers on the desk and joined her son on the couch. "I didn't mean to divide my attention." She smiled apologetically. "I'm all yours, now."

"It's all right."

"No, it's not." Hermione brushed his fringe out of his eyes. "You need a haircut," she observed.

He jerked away. "I want to grow it."

"Don't tell me you want to have your father's hair?" She frowned.

Nathan shrugged.

She suppressed a sigh and reached for his hair again. "You're handsome the way you are. There's no need to change anything."

He jerked away again. "Then let my hair be."

Hermione knew it was a moot point. "Only if you let me give you a squishy kiss on the cheek." She pulled him by the hand.

"Mom, I don't want a kiss, let alone a squishy one."

"But I do. Come here." She tugged, managing to put her arms around him in a hug. Nathan resisted only half-heartedly, soon giving up and letting her have her loud way with his cheek. She laughed when she noticed that he was blushing.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus heard the noises coming from Hermione's quarters when he approached. Recognizing her laugher, he paused before the door to let his memories fill him with her waves of joy. The feeling was enhanced when he could also hear his son laughing. Severus felt an almost tug at his soul to jump inside and join them; he knocked.

Nathan came to answer the door, flushed and grinning broadly. "Hi, Dad!"

Hermione was sitting comfortably on the couch, but she stood promptly to greet him, her shoulders stiffened. "Good evening."

"Good evening."

Where did the laughing woman go? She didn't act as if she were relaxed in his presence, like she usually did when she was asleep, and it made Severus want to take her in his arms and reassure her. Her pleading eyes the night before, when she'd asked him to come to her when she was awake, haunted him, and he felt awkward denying her the comfort now.

"I dreamed of you last night," Nathan told him, grinning still, and broke Severus' descend into the darkness of his soul.

"Having nightmares?" Severus asked the boy, embittered, belatedly aware of Hermione's eyes and ears on the conversation.

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Of course not. We were having a snowball fight on the grounds." There it was again, that smile so charged with happiness.

Severus glanced at Hermione in time to register her puzzlement. Could she remember, too? If she could, she didn't mention it.

"I don't suppose we could actually go outside now, could we?" Nathan asked.

"It's too dark outside," Severus answered.

Hermione, standing with her hands on Nathan's shoulders, was looking oddly at him. Severus brought back his words for examination but found nothing wrong with them. He tried to set his unease aside as paranoia, but it just wouldn't go away.

Although he was more reserved with his words from that point on, joining in the subsequent conversations with care, Severus seemed to have little control over his traitorous eyes. They went out to Hermione whenever she did something that reminded him of their nights together.

"More wine, Severus?" she offered some time later.

"No, thank you." Bloody wine, he thought while he let go of the empty goblet.

The evening progressed without surprises in Severus' point of view, but that didn't take away the mingling sensation that something had gone terribly wrong during the evening. When he wished her a good night and walked Nathan to Gryffindor Tower, Severus had a clue on why.

"Thank you for being nice to Mom tonight," his son said.

Not wanting to make things worse than they already seemed to be, Severus only nodded.

"It's good to see you hanging around."

"Good night, Nathan," Severus said, wanting the subject ended.

"Good night, Dad."

Severus walked to the dungeons, certain that he'd made a complete fool of himself that night.

~o0oOo0o~

"Granger."

Nathan turned to the voice and saw that Malfoy was walking towards him. Andy and Kevin stopped, too, to wait for him. Nathan frowned. Malfoy looked determined and formal when he stood in front of the Gryffindors and stretched a hand holding an envelope.

"What's this?" Nathan asked suspiciously.

"An invitation, what else," Malfoy answered moodily.

Nathan hadn't made to take it. "An invitation for what?"

"I told Father that you were uncivilized," Malfoy told him disdainfully. "Are you going to make me hold it forever?"

Nathan finally took the offered envelope. "An invitation for what?" he insisted.

"My birthday party. I hope you're otherwise occupied on the date and can't come." Malfoy turned from the group of confused Gryffindors and walked quickly on the opposite direction, disappearing in a corner down the corridor.

"What?" Kevin finally reacted.

"Malfoy invited Nathan to his birthday party," Andy answered and gained pointed looks from both friends.

"We know that," Kevin dismissed. "What we don't know is why."

Andy shrugged. Nathan decided to open the envelope, his friends looking curiously over his shoulders.

"It's his twelfth birthday party, Sunday next…" Nathan read to them.

"At Malfoy Manor," Kevin added with palpable disgust.

"Yeah," Andy agreed.

"He obviously doesn't want me to go, so why bother inviting me in the first place?" Nathan wondered while he returned the parchment to its envelope and put it into his book bag.

Andy shrugged.

"Maybe he was obliged to. You know, your father is the Head of Slytherin House," Kevin said, also shrugging. "Are you going?"

They walked down the corridor, entered the Transfiguration classroom, and Nathan still had no idea. "Do you think I should go?"

"I wouldn't!" Kevin was quick to express his opinion.

"I wasn't invited, but I don't think I would go either way. He's Malfoy, you know," Andy agreed.

"Hmm." Nathan was too intrigued by the invitation to dismiss it so quickly. Professor Lancey arrived and started the class, forcing Nathan to forget Malfoy and his invitation for the time being.

~o0oOo0o~

Wednesday, when Nathan was having tea and playing chess with his father, he had yet to decide what to do about Malfoy's invitation. The day before, he had finally worked out a plausible explanation for why he had been invited: he was Snape's son and Snape was Malfoy's godfather. Now, all he had to do was find out if his father wanted him to go to the stupid party.

"Dad," Nathan called.

"Yes."

"I was invited to Malfoy's birthday party. Should I go?" There, he'd asked.

His father lifted his eyes from the chessboard, then. He frowned at Nathan. "An invitation, you say?"

"Yes. Malfoy shoved it at me before Transfiguration on Monday."

His father rolled his eyes before moving a pawn and saying, "It was probably Draco's idea. Is this party here at Hogwarts?"

"No," Nathan answered. "It's at Malfoy Manor. Is it actually a manor?"

"I thought as much, and yes, it's actually a manor," his father answered.

Nathan moved a tower while he waited for his father to say something else. When he didn't, Nathan asked again, "So… Should I go?"

"Do you want to go?" his father returned the question.

"I don't know. I have no idea what's expected of me," Nathan admitted.

"Expected?" his father asked, looking intently at him.

"Well…" Nathan started. How could he explain his dilemma without seeming unknowledgeable? "You're his godfather, and I'm your son, now, so… am I not expected to go?"

His father's expression didn't change at all for the entire time they'd stared at each other, Nathan waiting for an answer.

At length, his father finally answered, sort of, "The Malfoys are expecting you to accept their invitation, but I have no expectations."

Nathan felt like groaning. That didn't help him at all! He decided to change his question. "Are you going?"

"I am probably expected to go," the man answered without taking his eyes from the chessboard.

"Is that a yes?" Nathan asked, losing patience with the evasive answers.

His father kept his head down but raised his eyes to look at him, keeping Nathan waiting until Nathan rose an eyebrow.

The man sighed. "You may come with me."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "All right."

He made stupid moves to end the game quickly after that. Nathan didn't know what sort of answer he'd been waiting for, but he knew that the one he got wasn't it. Maybe he should have outright refused the stupid invitation.

~o0oOo0o~

"Where do you think you're going, dressed like this?"

Hello to you, too, Dad, Nathan thought. "I thought we were going to Malfoy's party."

"You're in Muggle garments."

"It's a suit. Grandmother always says I look distinguished in it," he offered as an explanation, knowing quite well that his choice of what Muggle attire to wear wasn't the issue, but rather the fact that what he was wearing was Muggle in the first place. "I thought the party was formal, since Malfoy is such a pompous—"

"You'll want to watch your words," his father cut him, his tone dangerous, and then returning to the point… "You can't attend an event in Malfoy Manor wearing Muggle attire, no matter how formal it looks."

Killjoy, Nathan thought. His intention of shocking the traditional wizarding society was blasted by his own traditionalist father.

"Where are your dress robes?" the man asked. "Don't say you don't have any because I know quite well what was on the list you received with your Hogwarts letter."

"Will you make me go all the way back upstairs just to change into them?"

His father simply crossed his arms over his chest and glared. Nathan sighed. When he turned to head out of the man's quarters, his father told him, "I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall in fifteen minutes and not a minute later, or you'll be staying behind."

~o0oOo0o~

Twenty minutes later, Gryffindor's prefect walked into the first-years' dormitory.

"Professor Snape is by the Fat Lady, and he doesn't seem very happy. He says you're to meet him there right this minute, Mr. Granger."

"Damn," Nathan cursed.

"You said he'd gone without you!" Andy commented, horrified.

"He said he would, if I didn't show up in fifteen minutes." Nathan shrugged.

"You're dead," were the prefect's parting words.

"I have to agree with Thomas," Kevin said.

Nathan sighed, took his wrinkled dress robes from his trunk, and changed carelessly into them. When he crossed the common room, heads turned to watch him. Nathan felt it was easy to ignore them in face of the apprehension building inside as his mind worried about what part of Snape's personality would meet him outside.

"Walk," the man said upon seeing him. His next words came only when they were already crossing the grounds. "We'll have a conversation about punctuality when we're back."

Nathan had nothing to say in rebuttal, and when they Apparated to the so-called Malfoy Manor, he lost the last few words he had. His father turned to him, adding to his nerves. Part of it was due to the man's critical regard, but the rest was because the sight of the building ahead was admittedly intimidating. Uncle Harry's house was big—the biggest Nathan had been to—but this house wasn't only huge, but also very imposing. Nathan's eyes focused on his father's when the man straightened the collar of his robes and touched his wand to his shoulders, unwrinkling the dark-gray fabric under his winter coat, all the time talking under his breath and frowning.

"Pay attention," the man said in a clearer voice. "Your presence will attract some attention to us, and not all of it will be pleasant." Nathan gulped in a nervous reaction to his father's seriousness. "You are a Gryffindor…" Nathan's worry abated slightly at that observation, taken as an encouragement until… "Try to keep from acting foolhardily and making things even worse by getting into trouble." An arched eyebrow completed the admonishment.

Past the feet he was staring so intently at, the clean rocks puzzled Nathan. The snow didn't seem to fall on those they were standing on, the ones that lead the way to a high, ornate gate. Nathan heard his father sigh and felt even more out of place.

"Let's get this over with," the man said and headed for the gates. Nathan followed.

The house looked empty when they entered. Had they come to the right place? A house-elf popped in, and the sound echoed through the marble walls. "Professor Severus, sir." The small creature bowed and then eyed Nathan with big eyes that didn't make the boy feel any less uncomfortable. The small elf offered to take their coats, and only then did Nathan notice the difference in his father's clothes. They were still black robes, but there was a glamorous touch to the fabric of this set, and something shone on the lapel—a pin of some kind. Nathan had never seen his father wearing jewelry of any kind before.

"Severus! What a pleasure!"

The loud greeting almost made Nathan jump. He couldn't see the feet hidden under the layers of the woman's green, voluminous dress.

"And I see that you brought company! How wonderful!" Her smile didn't reach her eyes. Nathan looked straight into them.

"Ms. Malfoy." Nathan watched his father take the woman's hand by the fingers and brush his lips on them. Nathan held back a frown. "Nathan, my son."

"Enchanted." Another fake smile that went without response.

"I believe I'll find my godson in the ballroom?"

"Indeed, you will. He'll be delighted to see you, Severus." Then, looking down at Nathan, she added, "And you, too, of course."

How many fake smiles would he get that day, Nathan wondered as he followed the adults.

The sound of music and conversation finally reached Nathan's ears, betraying that there was indeed a party going on in the interior of the manor. The people gathered there turned to watch them enter, and like his father had warned, their presence resulted in curiosity and side-conversation. Nathan decided not to feel uncomfortable. Malfoy's father approached them.

"Severus," the blond greeted with a smile and a respectful shake of hands. "I was starting to think that I'd have to send a house-elf after you." Then, turning to Nathan… "I'm glad you accepted my son's invitation, Mr. Snape."

Nathan took the outstretched hand but corrected, "It's Granger, sir."

Snape interceded quickly, before the awkwardness in the other man's eyes extended to awkward words. "We should find Devon and deliver our greetings. If you'll excuse us…"

When they were out of ear's shot, Snape held Nathan back by the shoulder. "No one here will address you by Granger. Don't correct them."

"But—" Nathan started, but before he could, the birthday boy found them.

"Uncle Severus!" The boy's smile disappeared when he saw who was with his beloved godfather. "Granger."

Nathan almost laughed, looking pointedly at his father at how Malfoy had addressed him. When he turned his attention back to Malfoy, the boy looked like he'd eaten rotten lemon, by the face he was making.

"Surprise!" Nathan mocked, trying hard to maintain a straight face.

Seeming oblivious to the obvious animosity between the boys, Snape took a package from his pocket and gave it to Devon, saying, "Nathan and I want you to accept this gift in celebration of your birthday."

Nathan frowned at how his father had included him on a gift he didn't even know about, but watched everything unfold in silence for once.

"Thank you, Uncle Severus."

Nathan sensed his father's eyes on him and forced out a small "Happy birthday."

Malfoy ignored Nathan; he was too busy opening the package and taking the lid off the box within. Nathan made a great show of disinterest in what the box contained, but it became a surprisingly difficult task when the Slytherin ginned with genuine fondness at Nathan's father.

"May I assume that you're pleased with the gift?" Snape asked Malfoy.

"I'll know for sure when I find out what it is," the boy answered without losing the easy smile.

"I believe it'll be quicker now that you're at Hogwarts," Snape told Malfoy, intriguing Nathan even more.

Nathan looked from his father to Malfoy and back, but they didn't seem to notice him there. "What's in the box?" Nathan finally asked.

As if just only remembering Nathan there, his father looked down at him and said, "Perhaps you could find out together. I'll leave you boys to it."

"But…" Malfoy tried to protest, but Snape turned and walked away to where Malfoy's father was standing amongst other important-looking wizards.

Nathan became suddenly aware that he'd been left to his own luck with Malfoy. "What's in the box?" he asked again.

"It's none of your business."

"It wasn't what my dad just implied."

Malfoy glared at him, but Nathan refused to melt. "My godfather always gives me something Potions related that I haven't seen before, an ingredient most times."

Nathan frowned.

"As I said, it's none of your business." Malfoy turned to walk away, but something made him stop midway and walk back to where Nathan had remained standing. "You have to follow me to the other room."

"Why?"

"Because you do." Malfoy took off again, and this time Nathan followed.

"Why can't I stay in this room?" Nathan insisted, privately dreading to have to leave his father's presence.

"Because you can't!" Malfoy snapped. "Why did you show up at my party, anyway?"

"My dad made me come. I'd be having ten times more fun if I'd stayed to finish my History of Magic essay, I'm quite certain."

"Whatever, Granger. Just try to keep out of my way and not ruin my birthday." Malfoy bypassed him, purposefully knocking his shoulder on his way to a cluster of boys. Nathan recognized three Ravenclaws, one Hufflepuff, and… a den of Slytherins.

Nathan sighed. Why had he showed up to this damned party, indeed!

~o0oOo0o~

Severus interacted with new and old Malfoy acquaintances with minimum attention. He had years of practice and knew quite well how to mingle without actually doing so. He was in a circle of meaningless conversation, his mind on what was happening on the adjacent ballroom. From time to time, Severus would take a round, plain vial from his pocket and take a look at the color of its content. He was doing that again exactly when he heard Draco's voice.

"Is there something the matter?"

"Draco," he said, hiding the vial and working on a cover for his surprise at being caught unaware. "One hardly sees the time pass at such enjoyable gatherings." Maybe Draco would buy the idea that he had been simply consulting a pocket watch.

"What was that in your pocket?"

No such luck, it seemed. "A potion vial," Severus answered, revealing only a facet of the truth as he'd done so well for so many years.

Draco frowned slightly. "Are you feeling all right?"

Severus sighed. "I'm fine," he reassured. It hadn't been his intention to worry the host.

"You were more evasive than usual this afternoon. It was like you weren't here at all, as if you had your mind elsewhere. Are you sure there's nothing the matter?"

Very perceptive, Severus thought. "I am."

Draco shook his head but didn't insist, changing the subject of their conversation to something Severus could give his usual share of attention, instead. The potion in his pocket showed that Nathan wasn't about to punch or hex anyone, but it didn't leave Severus carefree, either. It had gone from neutral colors to more somber ones as the afternoon advanced, making Severus wonder what was making his boy sad in the other room.

He'd somehow expected more vibrant colors, which would have meant his son's anger, thus showing Severus that he would need to intervene to keep a scene from happening. The sad hues he'd been seeing for more than an hour, instead, were keeping Severus even more alert. It was unexpected and worrisome.

Others joined their circle of conversation, and Severus was yet to add more than grunts to it. He wasn't so distracted not to notice when the conversation stopped altogether, though. Severus turned to the source of the other's curiosity.

Nathan approached and locked his dark eyes, bigger than how Severus remembered them, with his. "Professor Snape," his son called, eyes never leaving his as if hoping that those listening closely to their conversation were invisible. "I was wondering how much longer we'll be staying, sir."

"You must be young Mr. Snape."

Nathan seemed vulnerable when he was forced to turn his eyes and look at Ms. Ollerton. Severus expected him to answer as he'd done Draco, but what Nathan said was much more worrisome.

"I suppose I am, ma'am."

"You have your father's eyes," Ms. Ollerton commented.

"Thank Merlin the boy didn't inherit the Prince nose," Mr. Ollerton added, maybe louder than he'd intended.

Ms. Ollerton laughed at her husband's tasteless joke, but no one else around them joined her, preferring cautious neutrality where Severus was concerned. He was still known for surviving the Dark Lord, and everybody knew it wasn't for nothing.

Severus' attention was on Nathan, though. The boy looked shyly at him, pleading with his eyes to be taken home. "Draco, I'm afraid I've left work waiting for me back at Hogwarts. It's been a lovely afternoon."

"Won't you stay a little longer?"

"I'm afraid it won't be possible."

"You're going already?" Severus hadn't seen Devon approach. "But you can't go! You haven't eaten any birthday cake, yet!"

"Devon…" Pansy admonished.

"Thank you for coming, Uncle Severus," the boy said halfheartedly and then belatedly added, "Nathan."

"Always a pleasure," Severus answered politely. "If you'd excuse us…" He bowed, took Nathan, and left.

Not long after, they stood just outside the gates of Malfoy Manor. Nathan put his arms around Severus, ready for the Apparition that would take them back home.

Severus didn't Apparate right away, though. He encircled his son with his arms, instead, holding him to his chest in a furtive hug. He felt Nathan's shoulder sag and knew he'd done well. Only then did Severus Apparate them to the gates of Hogwarts.

"I'm sorry." Nathan broke the silence as soon as they were on the cold Scotland air with the words that infuriated Severus the most.

Severus sighed. "Why do you apologize?"

"I made you leave before the cake."

Severus snorted. "Do you really think I'd have wanted to stay?"

Nathan shrugged.

"Nathan, look at me."

The boy did, and Severus examined him thoroughly for hexes or poisoning. Nathan didn't protest. Severus found nothing.

"Did you drink or eat something Devon gave you?" he asked.

It was Nathan's time to snort.

"What happened, then?"

"Nothing. I was bored to death."

At last, an answer that seemed more like his son. Seemed… Severus knew better than to take it as the whole story. There was more to it, but he would be content with any sign of normalcy.

That night, Severus went to bed only after he'd watched the potion on his flat vial turn a light green, informing him that Nathan had fallen into a tranquil sleep. His first stop after he'd cast the Anima Liberta spell was his son's quarters, and he was relieved to see his soul as cheerful as ever. Severus was glad of children's capacity to forgive and forget.

~o0oOo0o~

In the middle of the subsequent week, Severus' soul, freed and conscious, entered Hermione's apartment through the front door and was assaulted by the now usual scent of spices coming from the kitchen area. Severus' new-found addiction was to watch Hermione cook. He stood beside her, watching her stir a pan of tomato sauce and humming with her the same tune that was coming from the living room.

It was the same intoxicating happiness and wellbeing of most evenings with her until he heard a male voice calling out to Hermione over the soothing strains of the music and made Severus turn in its direction with amazing speed, shocked.

"Are you sure you don't need my help with dinner?" the Muggle asked her, entering the small kitchen now.

"Positive," she answered, smiling with ease at the Muggle.

Severus' eyes, already big, went wider yet when the Muggle hugged Hermione from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Here, taste for yourself." She offered some sauce on the palm of her hand to the Muggle, who licked and hummed.

"I agree; you don't need any help with dinner." The Muggle kissed her on the cheek and let go of her. "I'll set the table. May I?"

Hermione laughed lightly, and Severus' heart ached enough to make his eyes sting. "Yes, you may."

"Where do you keep the tableware?"

She laughed again, and Severus left before his chest burst open, missing the rest of their interaction. Severus had seen enough, anyway. His first impulse to flee and protect himself from the pain was quickly turning into loss and resentment, but what struck and stayed was anger.

Instead of going back to his body, he stayed and watched. It could be considered masochistic, but he wanted to know—needed, even, to understand—how his dream had become such a nightmare in a matter of seconds.

They ate dinner in friendly conversation about their day-to-day affairs, laughing and exchanging sweetness through their eyes. Hermione smiled and blushed when the Muggle flattered her. The Muggle didn't let an opportunity to touch her hands pass. It was sick, but Severus watched.

They moved to the sofa, and arms were tangled, heads were held tenderly. Severus turned his head away when their lips touched, but only time enough to renew his anger and determination and turn to look ahead again, watching he two kiss in heated passion.

Clinically, now, Severus could see her touching the Muggle the way she touched him. Analytically, he observed that she kissed the other man the way she kissed him. Methodically, he watched she let those foreign hands slide over her hair as if they were his—Severus'—hands.

And she smiled.

And the bastard smiled back.

And Severus finally tensed his face in disgust and decided he'd wait to tell her how much he despised her somewhere she wasn't snogging a Muggle behind his back. Severus decided he'd stay and show her how little he thought of her. Even if it was all to disguise how empty he felt, hollow, bleeding through his anger and hurting in every bit of his soul, he'd make her listen to all he had to say about treachery.

Severus went to her bedroom and waited there. He both wanted and didn't want her to come to bed, and when she entered the room, he didn't have the courage to see if she was alone. He remained sitting on the bed with his eyes closed, and when he didn't feel it move, he felt strong enough to open his eyes. Something instantly filled part of the hollow in his soul: she was alone.

Now it was only a matter of time until she fell asleep.

And Severus would not look back when she howled in pain at the mercy of his cutting tongue.

"Oh, dear Severus…"

He closed his eyes at hearing her sweet voice calling his name. The moment of truth had come; Severus had his back to her sleeping form.

"Don't talk to me," he rasped.

"Severus…" Her voice was a whisper, but his whole soul shivered at the pain emanating from it.

A hand fell on his shoulder, and Severus' jumped to his feet, electrocuted into rage over his loss.

"Don't touch me! Those… dirty hands of yours…" His face might as well show his disgust for her in its twisted lines.

"Severus, please—"

"Why did you do this to me? How could you let those filthy lips kiss you and enjoy it?"

"I couldn't—"

"In fact, why didn't you bring him into your bed and finish the job?"

"Because I don't feel anything for him."

"Liar!"

"I'm not lying; I never lied to you."

"Don't talk to me," he gritted through his teeth. "Don't try to tell me you weren't enjoying every minute while those dirty hands were all over you, Hermione, because you'd be lying! I saw the way you kissed him, the way you groped him." He showed how disgusted he felt.

"Why did you stay? Why didn't you leave when you saw what I was going to—"

"Shut up!" he raged. "I don't want to hear your voice!"

"Severus…"

"You're a fucking liar, Hermione. How can you betray me so lightly? You said you loved me and then…" His face twisted into disgust. "You let his disgusting hands go all over you. You give your mouth to him. You laugh with him…"

"But it's you whom I love."

"Liar!"

A tear ran down her face. "I love you," she whispered.

"No, you don't!"

"I tried to warn you that this was going to happen…"

He shook his head in denial.

"…that you couldn't have both—"

"I don't want to hear this."

"—when I realized that you wouldn't look for me—"

"Shut up!"

"—I knew this was going to happen—"

"Shut the fuck UP!"

She did. He breathed hard through his nostrils.

"This is not. My. Fault! Do you hear me? It's NOT!"

She took a step closer, and Severus could feel her love for him emanating from her soul, but instead of reassuring him, it hurt.

"Don't give up," she pleaded. "Feel my love. Fight for me, Severus. Don't let me slip through your fingers. I beg you, please, fight for our love."

He looked down at her, so close to him she was, and the only thing that left his lips was the breathed Latin of the incantation that sent him back into his body—and for the last time, he promised himself.

That night he cried himself to sleep, vowing that he would never go to Hermione again.

He vouched to never fall in love again.

~o0oOo0o~

On Friday, Severus was at the door to her quarters at Hogwarts, and as soon as she opened it, he came in, grabbing her clumsily by the waist and swirling them both around so she was pressed with her back against the door, which finished closing with the weight of their bodies. Besides a squeak of surprise, she didn't have time to say a thing before his mouth claimed hers. His urgency was breathtaking, literally.

"Severus?" she managed when he left her lips time enough to do so. She'd felt the taste of Firewhisky in his mouth, knew he couldn't be in his right mind, and yet her eyes were heavy and her hands closed tightly around his arms.

"Lovely lips," was his answer before he assaulted them again.

Tongues entwined, and Hermione fought to have a clear-minded thought. She knew she shouldn't be answering his passionate kisses, but that was out of the question, humanly impossible, even. His hand tangled in her hair at the back of her head, and she knew she should not allow this to go on, but his fingers felt heavenly on her scalp.

He came up for air again. When had she closed her eyes? His were half-lidded. God, look at his wet, thoroughly kissed lips!

"You have horrid hair," those sexy lips said.

Damn! She should be glad he'd said that, or she would never have come to her senses. "Severus, you're not in your right mind." She had to put an end to it, and God helped her if she didn't succeed.

"I thought you liked kissing me," he retorted, too close to her ear for her body not to react.

"Severus," she tried to admonish.

"Hermione…."

Holy crap! She melted at the way he'd spoken her name, there, inches from her ear, before nipping at it.

"Severus, you have to stop." It was nothing more than a whisper, but it finally made him take his nose from the crook of her neck and look at her in the eyes.

"I don't want you to stop," she assured him, "but you're drunk, and you would never forgive me if I let you ravish me in this state—God, what am I saying?" She placed a short kiss on his still too-damn-inviting lips.

"But I want to ravish you." A soft, open-mouthed kiss and a flick of a tongue. "I need to have you." A pull on curly hair. "I need to get you out of my bloody mind." Sharp teeth closing on soft flesh. "You're driving me insane." A whisper against white skin.

"It's wrong…." Who was she trying to convince, him or herself?

"Wrong…" he agreed, his speech slurred by the alcohol, and then he licked her throat.

She shivered and held him by the hair, bringing his eyes to hers. "It's wrong."

He lowered his gaze. "You have lovely lips." He'd already said that, and she filed the information for later use.

"So do you," she complimented and brushed her thumb lightly over his lower lip. His eyes fluttered shut. She sighed. Why did you have to be pissed? Hermione pushed him slowly away and grabbed the doorknob. "Come back when you're sober."

"I'm not drunk," he said lamely but left without further protest.

Hermione closed the door and leaned on it again, this time without him weighing on her. "Good Lord!"

A/N: Hehe! Drunk kisses… tsk. What were you thinking, Severus? Well, we kind of know what you were thinking. *lol*

Coming next… The final blow to Severus' walls, and another Prince's tale.