Stained
Title: Stained
Team Name: Death Eaters, baby! ♥
Word Count: 6x100
Challenge: glass
Rating: G
Characters: Hermione & Severus
He views them all like glass. Potter is spectacles, needing to be handled and placed just so or utterly useless. He is certain that Weasley is a window, but someone's left the curtains drawn. Longbottom's an unlit window, and Draco is a mirror, coolly reflecting his upbringing.
Severus isn't certain what he is. He knows that his glass is smudged and dirty, carefully covered and wrapped in layers. He's marked; burned and stained...
Which is why he can't stand Granger. He hasn't a clue what her glass is, but she's clear and bright and he hates her for it.
~*~
Everything is useless. No matter he derides her, mocks her, she remains unblemished. Every cruel word he can think of to distance himself from the draw of her, so warm to her friends, so bloody clever with that edge of confidence that reminds him of his faults, does nothing to keep her away.
Granger's the only student who isn't afraid of him. Hell, she corrects her fellow miscreants, demanding Severus be given respect.
Something in him creaks as he mounts the tower stairs. He hates her, but still he protectively watches her cross the grounds, free from the basilisk's effect.
~*~
Severus feels so weary, worrying about the bloody girl and her friends. He feels so brittle, these days. He knows that his glass is as fragile as it has ever been, under the wool and buttons. He's discolored and mottled. So filthy he cannot get clean. The blood on his hands will never come off.
Still, he cannot give in. When Phineas brings up Potter, he listens eagerly, not just for the boy, but for her. Over the years, he's found himself attracted to her light, her warmth. Nothing inappropriate, he assures himself, but there's..something about Granger that fascinates him.
~*~
His heart is in his throat - he had heard of her capture. He knew the moment she and her cohorts entered the school, and relief swept through him. Potter's glasses were clearer than ever, but brittle, and Weasley's curtains had been pushed aside.
But Granger... There was something still that shone in her. He longed to place it, to hold it up and see just what she was made of.
Severus didn't have any choice but to flee, and when he leapt from the window, the wrapping around him seemed to come free. He wondered if he had wings.
~*~
If he had had wings, that momentary feeling of wondrous freedom shattered as surely as they did. The Shack was as filthy as ever; a fitting place for him to die, broken and leaking away the best of him. Severus saw the silver threads gathered into a phial and Lily's eyes met his through cracked lenses...
When his eyes opened again, he was bandaged, wrapped in white gauze and cotton rather than black wool. He must have made some noise, for the form by the window stirred, and Granger lifted weary eyes. They met his.
Her smile was beautiful, stunning.
~*~
It took months for Severus to heal. Not just his body, but his mind and, surprisingly, his heart. Hermione had proven surprisingly stubborn, healing alongside him from trauma and lack of nutrition. Her laugh was infectious, her mind quick and her heart... open.
They'd been talking for a year when he realised that she was a lamp, a stunning lantern, a guiding beacon home.
And when he finally discarded the last of his wrappings, he realised he wasn't a filthy pane.
He was stained glass. Warped and bubbled, faceted and unique. He was beautiful, she said, and always had been.
-fin-