Poor Hermione....
Hermione awoke, feeling strangely warm and as she yawned, her cheek seemed to stick to what was underneath. She pried her eyes open and lifted her head, slightly confused by the unfamiliar room that met her sight, before she remembered she was in their new safe house. She glanced at her bed, and suddenly remembered that she was also, not in her own room.
The bare chest that had been underneath her cheek was rising and falling with slow, even breaths. She stared at the pale face surrounded by a halo of black hair, drinking the sight in, trying to categorize the feeling of waking up, clearly naked, lying on top of a naked man. A naked Severus Snape, for that. She could feel her breath coming in quicker pants as she stared into his sleeping face, left to her own thoughts for once, as his dreaming mind and closed eyes kept her firmly shut out of his. His arm was stretched out, just under 'her' pillow, and she realized it must've been underneath her, or perhaps even wrapped around her before she'd awoken. His other was hidden under the blanket, and she stared at the duvet a moment, wondering when exactly he'd draped it over them. She couldn't recall anything much after pressing her face into his neck.
She sat still, not wanting to wake him, and not sure if she should get up before he came to. He looked so peaceful in sleep, she felt a strong desire to lie back against him and sleep more. She looked around the room, and caught sight of the books and papers on the desk across from the bed. She recognized several of the daily prophets, and the atlas.
Curiosity took hold of her and made up her mind. She carefully slid across the bed, doing her best not to move the blanket, and staring at Snape's face the whole time, an unfamiliar anxiety filling her that she might disturb his slumber. As her feet touched the carpeted floor, she looked back toward the desk, tip-toeing to it. She grabbed her nightgown from the floor on her way and slid it over her head before taking the uncomfortable wooden chair that sat before the desk. She looked over the documents, surprised to see lists, written in Snape's handwriting, of names. There were Order members, Hogwarts students, and possible allies. She noticed that the names seemed to be split into three groups: missing, incarcerated, and dead. Her heart clenched as she looked over each list, familiar with many already.
On another sheet of parchment, she found a crude chart he'd drawn up, each name from the 'missing' list was connected to another list of locations. She felt a swell of emotion at the realization that while she'd been avoiding him, he'd been mapping out possible reunions and rescues.
She glanced back at him, and froze. He was awake, his head propped up on one arm, watching her go over his work.
"Did you know, a large part of the appeal of spending the entire night with someone is waking up next to them?" He asked conversationally, his hand gesturing to the empty spot next to him. Hermione felt her cheeks heat as she glanced from his bed, to the door. She contemplated making a run for it, before he could get another verbal jab in, but before she could budge, he sat up more fully, running both hands through his messy hair to remove it from his face. She stared at him a moment, awestruck by the sight of him so very unlike anything she'd seen before. His entire torso was bare, she could see the muscles of his arms and chest moving as he shoved his hair back. The blanket had fallen to his hips, exposing the thin trail of hair that descended from his navel. His hair was more unkempt than she'd known it could even get, continually falling across his face as he yawned. He blinked at her owlishly, and she suddenly wondered if he did enjoy sleeping in, despite his usual brisk pace of waking and preparing for the day.
"Would you like me to rejoin you, then?" She asked boldly, folding her hands in her lap.
"Mm. Better not. We both need to bathe, I have potions to get started on, and we need to figure out how to break into- and out of- Azkaban." He said, sounding surly, even as he swung his feet over the edge of the bed. Hermione silently watched him as he stalked around the room, pulling just enough clothes on to make it to the bathroom. Her fading blush renewed at the bare skin that he seemed so comfortable in, but she didn't bother averting her gaze as she compared the morning Severus to the raven haired incubus who'd plagued her evenings. He seemed more sluggish, not at all the driven man who'd been intent on teasing her. His manhood was softer, not the stiff monster that would have torn at her. Instead of driving her into a frenzy of wanting to be sexually satisfied, she felt an odd desire to pull him back to bed and rest in his arms. As his eyes swept up to meet hers, she saw the same need, counterbalanced by the knowledge of how much work they had ahead of them. He might be selfish, but he knew how to be responsible, too, and today would be a test of that.
He left her in his room without one more spoken word passing between them, only a gentle caress of his fingers through the bottom of her hair as he passed her as a farewell. Hermione fought against the shiver that wanted to go up her back at the familiar gesture, the small allowance he made for his self-indulgent urges on his path to take care of their other commitments.
She stared at the lists for a moment, considering the longest one, the missing people, scattered to the wind, possibly in hiding, and possibly dead. They really should find a way to determine who was still alive before they wasted time looking all over England. She felt they'd already spent too much time looking for a respectable new headquarters. She hadn't spoken to Shroge about adding more people onto the guestlist, but she was hoping he allowed them usage of his house for the larger body of Order allies. She tapped her chin, going through possible venues to determine whether a large group of 'undesirables' would be on the run. She kept coming back to the Ministry. Her, Harry, and Ron's infiltration to steal the Horcrux had ended rather poorly, and she wasn't keen on heading back, when they'd likely be expecting another attempt to get in. Surely, though, they would have exactly what she needed. A list of those they were still trying to catch and detain. That would help them learn where to start looking. Or perhaps even a list of those thrown in Azkaban, maybe a blueprint, or at least which cell they'd been confined to. Allies first, she thought. She had no idea how they were going to break into Azkaban, but she was certain that they'd need more people to do it.
By the time Snape re-entered the room, she thought she had a good plan.
"I need you to brew a polyjuice potion." She announced, turning to face him.
"What for?" He asked, opening a drawer, and pulling clothes out. He set them on the bed, seeming to put together his whole outfit before he removed the towel from his hips, rubbed at his hair, and set it aside. Hermione did her best not to stare at his damp, naked body as he dressed, forcing her words through her mouth.
"Before we can even think about breaking into Azkaban, we need more people to pull it off. In order to get more allies, we have to find them, since anyone opposed to You-Know-Who will be in hiding, but we don't know who's hiding, and who's dead, so we need to get a list of Order members still causing trouble, or still uncaptured. For that, we'll need to get into the Ministry. Harry, Ron, and I used polyjuice to get in a few months ago, but... I don't have anymore."
"And you don't think they've implemented stronger security since?" he asked, his fingers working his buttons closed, even as he looked at her.
"Well, they seemed pretty high-security then, I'm not sure how they could've gotten worse." She said, feeling rather silly even as she said it. Of course there was always 'worse'.
"If we take a trip back to Spinner's End, I can get potions ingredients, as well as some of the pre-made potions from my case." He said. She stared at him.
"Will it be safe?"
"I doubt it. They'll likely have set up traps for us, as well as the fact that we'll have to be wary of the crumbling structure Bellatrix likely left behind. But I believe it will be safer than taking a trip through a potions shop."
"Mmhm." Hermione nodded, and stood, heading toward the door where her own shower was calling to her. "Should we go today?"
"I don't see why not. It won't get any safer by waiting." He announced, pulling his frock coat on. Hermione had the door opened before he spoke again. "You forgot something."
"What?" She turned to face him, instinctively holding out her hands as he threw something across the room at her. She felt her face heat bright red as a small pile of cotton undergarments was revealed, and she hurried from the room, slamming his door behind her. He enjoyed provoking her far too much, she decided, ditching the worn clothes in her own room, and bringing her fresh set with her to shower. She didn't want to risk running into him in the hallway, and tempting him into peeling her towel off right there, where Shroge might stumble upon them.
She kept the shower rather chilly and brief, hoping to dissuade any further strange fantasies of humoring Snape in a rather public stage. She left her hair damp as she dressed, pulling even her shoes on before she stepped into the hallway. She poked her head back into his room, but he seemed to have already departed it, so she made her way down the stairs, finding him in the dining room with a plate of sausage and eggs before him. Shroge sat opposite him, and both ate in silence.
"Good morning." She announced her entrance, taking a seat comfortably between both at the oval table.
"Good morning, Miss Granger. How did you sleep?" Shroge asked, sliding the dishes of food toward her. She served herself and fought the blush that tried to cover her whole face.
"I slept well, thank you. I was actually wondering if we could speak about the possibility of using your home as a sort of... base of operations. We want to reform as much of the Order of the Phoenix as we can." She explained before she took her first bite. She kept her eyes on his, trying to seem like she was only politely interested, though she was focusing more on the sudden surge of emotions behind his eyes than the food in her mouth.
"I'd be honored to help the opposition of those dark wizards trying to control our government, but... I have concerns about the kinds of people you might want to bring in. What sort of people were you thinking?" He asked, setting his fork down, and meeting her gaze levelly. He was giving this conversation the gravity it deserved, nothing less.
"Well, No one like Mundungus." She shared a look of distaste with Snape. "Only those who've proven to be trustworthy, and in dire need of a safehouse. People like Minerva McGonagall, if she's still alive. The Weasleys, the Bones', Rubeus Hagrid." She listed off people from the missing list, hoping he knew who any of them were.
"A good sounding group." He nodded, and she watched as he overturned those he recognized, weighing them and their fight against what he was already doing to help muggleborns escape. "Well, it's not like I don't have the room." He finally agreed, and she felt his wash of warmth at the thought of having his house full once again. She saw snippets of a family, long-gone, children running around, a wife. She smiled, fighting back tears at the darkness that trailed those memories, at the thought of this old man being the only one left of his once large family.
"Thank you." She said, turning her eyes back to her food, forcing herself away from his life. When she gave Snape a glad smile, he gave her a concerned quirk of his eyebrow. He'd noticed her shining eyes, and where Shroge had thought them due to gratitude, he knew otherwise. She shook her head slightly, taking another bite, to prove that she was just fine.
"Miss Granger and myself will be out for part of the day, acquiring potions supplies." Snape announced, pulling the attention away from the witch.
"When you're back, would you mind helping me in the garden again?" Shroge aimed at Hermione.
"Not at all." Hermione agreed, glancing from one man to another, not letting her eyes linger long enough to pick up more than eye-color.
"I'll begin brewing when we return. If there's anything you'd like me to brew, as payment for letting us stay here..." Snape trailed off, sounding not at all as generous as the offer implied. Hermione nearly choked on her eggs trying not to laugh at the sour look on his face.
"Thank you. I'll keep your offer in mind." Shroge replied casually, not seeming the least bit put off by Snape's less-than-friendly tone, even if his offer seemed to convey gratitude.
Hermione finished her breakfast rather quickly, asking a few questions about apparating in and out of the property, as well as setting up a password for when they returned, so Shroge would know it was them.
She finally caught up to Snape who was waiting in the shade of the porch, wand in hand, eyes darting around the surrounding field and further forest.
"Anything wrong?" Hermione asked, bounding down the steps to stand at his side.
"No." He answered shortly, offering his arm. Hermione reached out for it, even as she spoke.
"We have to go into that shed to Apparate from within the wards, otherwise we have to step outside the house's protections." She said, tugging him along by their now linked arms. He glared down at her a moment, but allowed her to keep hold of his arm the entire way to the shed, saying nothing about the familiar way they walked in step. Hermione felt a strange tension fill her belly as they walked arm-in-arm, keeping her eyes on the ground and the shed ahead of them, instead of on the surly man who would tease her for enjoying such a normal touch.
They stepped into the shed, and he paused for merely a moment, checking that she was ready before magically guiding them to his wrecked home. Hermione looked around them, instantly alert as they appeared directly inside the house. A loud wailing sound was going off, and she cursed, dropping his arm, and covering her ears against noise of the Caterwauling Charm.
"Signus Vox." Snape unlocked the still standing cabinet, and turned to her, shouting over the noise. "They'll be here soon. Clear this out, and get out of here. I'll be in the laboratory, getting supplies." He ordered, turning with a nostalgic swish of his robes. Hermione turned to the cabinet, and began quickly, and gently, transferring them into a small bag she'd prepared when getting dressed. She'd placed a stabilizing charm on it, so even if she got into a fight, and got thrown around, the contents of the bag wouldn't be disrupted.
She glanced around the sitting room as she worked, taking in the giant hole in the wall, the bricks and splintered wood that lay across the lawn, and carpeted floor. The ceiling was starting to slope down into the hole, and she worried it might decide to fall on her head at any moment. She kept a wary eye on it as she put the last potion in the bag, closed it, and slung it over her shoulder. She pulled her wand out, ready to Apparate away, when the familiar billowing black robes came around the torn open wall, stepping into the house, wand in hand.
"Professor, I thought you were-" She froze, realizing that he was wearing ALL black. There was no hint of white peeking out at the neck from the white oxford Snape had worn under his robes that morning. His hair was lank and greasy, hanging in his face, and he stared at her, wand raised, but casting no spells.
"You thought I was dead?" He asked, "Come to rob me, have you?" He sneered, and she blanched, meeting his eyes, and trying her best to focus on her breathing, to calm her thoughts. This wasn't Severus Snape.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize." She answered, injecting the right amount of self-righteousness into her voice as she added, "I needed supplies. My friends are hurt."
"Your friends?" He asked, his face twitching just a bit. Hermione could see the unfamiliar thoughts brewing in his head. He was a Death Eater, young, newly initiated, and hoping to score big. If he brought Hermione Granger to the Dark Lord, he'd be rewarded. If he brought her AND her friends, he'd be a hero.
"Please, Professor. I know you're not evil. Please help us." She pleaded, offering him what he wanted. A chance to find the hideout of the Order of the Phoenix, and to capture them all. Stupid boy.
"I'll help you. For Harry Potter." The man was almost convincing in his somber declaration, except that Hermione could see his mental sneer. The Boy Who Died. Finally, he thought.
"We've been hiding in a shack in Wiltshire. It's awful. So many of us cramped together. We've been looking for a new place, but... No one wants to help. I'm so glad I've found you Professor." She lied, taking a step towards him, her wand hanging limply in her hand.
"Take me there, and I'll find you somewhere new to stay." He promised, offering his arm, an uncanny imitation of the way Severus had offered his arm earlier. Hermione stepped closer as he relaxed his wand arm, offering him the most genuine smile she could muster.
He didn't have a chance to block as she snapped her wand up and sent a jet of red light directly into his chest. His face went slack, and he collapsed to the floor. Hermione flicked her wand, summoning his, and then shot ropes from the end of her wand, securing his limp body, taking no risks. She tucked the wand into her waistband, her eyes scanning the wall and rubble for any other enemies. A sound from behind her drew her wand in that direction, and a second Severus Snape stepped through the doorway that she knew led to the basement.
"I told you to get the potions and leave." He glowered, glancing from her wand to his unconscious doppleganger on the floor. "What happened?"
"I was just getting ready to leave when he came through the wall." Hermione said, not letting her wand down. "Prove you're not another imposter." She demanded, trying not to smirk at the familiar dialogue they'd shared more than once.
He looked around the room suspiciously, and then met her gaze with purpose, his black eyes settling comfortably on hers, a clear invitation. That alone might have proven who he was, as he was the only person who knew of her legilimency, but she delved briefly into his thoughts anyway. She could feel her own mind through his, the strangely familiar mirror sensation of sifting through his thoughts, and coming across her own. He was presenting her with a memory of the last time she'd demanded he prove his identity, as well as unintentional flashes of what they'd shared the previous night. He seemed a bit distracted as she stood there, looking fierce, formidable, opponent lying to her right, defeated. Compliments from him were rare, but she felt his pride at seeing her so obviously in control of the situation that had taken her by surprise. All he could feel from her thoughts was confidence, daring. He felt a surge of possessive desire to have her, to claim that fiery champion as his.
She looked away from his eyes, feeling her own rush of desire in response. She wasn't at all used to men, even a single one for that matter, looking at her with so much appreciation and longing. Especially not one she knew she could easily walk up to and kiss, without fear of rejection. The knowledge that she COULD have him, right there, if she wanted, created a high, giddy feeling inside of her. She felt powerful in more than one way.
"I've got the ingredients, we should get back. I have things that need brewing." He sounded a bit gruff, and if she wasn't mistaken, disappointed to be heading back to their new home. She nodded, and held her hand out for him to take, lacing her fingers through his, and waiting as he turned, pulling her through the crushing pressure of magic, and right into the dimly lit shed at the edge of Shroge's property.
They hurried inside, setting both of their bags of loot on the kitchen counter shortly after coming through the back door.
Snape popped open the bag she'd been carrying, and dug through the contents, searching for something swiftly. He held up a rather large bottle of murky potion that Hermione recognized immediately.
"Polyjuice Potion." He explained, anyway. "Enough for me, alone, for three hours, or both of us, an hour and a half each."
"We should wait. Until we have more, I mean, to sneak into the Ministry. This one, we should keep for an emergency. Split it in half, and be ready to use it if something goes wrong." Hermione suggested. He looked at her for a moment, and then nodded, tucking the jar back into the bag.
"I'll separate these out, and begin the second batch today. Let me know when dinner's ready?" He asked, closing up the bag, and preparing to head to his new lab. Hermione nodded, watching him stalk from the kitchen before she leaned against the counter and closed her eyes.
They'd left the Polyjuiced imposter there in the rubble. There wasn't really anything they COULD do with him, except wipe his memory, though. She felt as if he were a loose end, one that they'd left to fray their work. She took a moment to think through what it might mean that they'd left him there, bound and unconscious. Someone was bound to find him, and he would eventually wake up. When he was awake, and unbound, he'd be sure to bring news of her escape to SOMEONE, even if it was unlikely that he'd go before Voldemort himself and explain his failure. She had no idea who it was they'd left, but she doubted ANYONE would want to incur the wrath of the snake-faced lord. When he told whoever of her escape, he'd have to explain that he'd been polyjuiced, if they didn't already know. If it was part of some larger plan to gain the trust of order members, she'd have to be on guard around any other familiar face she saw. They'd need a password. Something they could say aloud to let the other know it was them. It would be faster than reading each other's minds, and save them loads of wand-pointing, and fronting. However, an audible password risked being overheard. So maybe rotating passwords, that way only an imposter would use the same one they'd used last. It should work, she thought. Now just to come up with something they'd remember. And should they include Shroge on the passwords, or give him his own?
"Ready to work on the garden?" Shroge's voice seemed to be summoned straight from her musings, and she opened her eyes, giving their host a smile.
"Sure. Maybe it'll help me think." She agreed easily, following him out the door, and into the soft earth of his yard. "I was thinking, maybe we should use passwords, so we don't have to worry about being impersonated." She began, falling easily into conversation with the older man...
* * *
"Professor?" Hermione called softly down the stairs, hearing the sounds of boiling water and flickering flames. She could smell the beginning scents of the Polyjuice Potions, the faint aroma of smoke, and soft notes of something floral. She tiptoed down the stairs, rounding the corner for the last quarter of the staircase, and took in the sight of Snape's quickly set up lab.
It wasn't nearly as full or complete as his home lab, or Hogwarts labs had been, but it was unmistakably his workshop. There were three potions in small cauldrons, and she stepped closer, curious about the other two.
"Professor, dinner's ready." She announced, drawing his eyes to her. He was stirring one of the cauldrons, but it wasn't over any flame, and seemed clear as water. She knew it wasn't veritaserum, as that took just as long as polyjuice to make, and she looked at the other. "What are those?"
"That one's the Polyjuice." He indicated a potion that looked a bit like boiling dirty bath water. "That one's veritaserum." He indicated a pure black potion that looked a bit like ink, the first stage of the truth potion. "And THIS one," He waved at the potion he was still stirring. "Is finished, and just cooling off a bit."
"But what IS it?" She pressed, walking over to the cauldron, and looking inside. Her initial observation of water had been wrong, but not far off. It was clear, but thicker, and was the source of the floral scent. It was just a hint, barely noticeable under the smells of the Polyjuice and wood smoke.
"It's a lubricant." He stated, watching for her reaction. She blinked up at him, unsure what he'd meant.
"Like... oil? For hinges?" She asked hopefully, though she doubted it. The scent of roses made her think it was for human use.
"For you." He confirmed her suspicions. She looked at it, and then at him. She felt a streak of bold sarcasm, and tried to keep her cheeks from reddening as she retorted.
"You really think that's necessary?"
"Absolutely. Not the lubricating factor, surely, but the other ingredients will definitely earn your appreciation." He assured her. She doubted it, and sniffed again.
"What are the other ingredients?" She asked, curious.
"Murtlap essence, rosewater, and a sprinkle of ground paracress buds." He explained, making her wrinkle her nose.
"Healing, scent, and stinging? What on EARTH could that good for?" She asked, the last ingredient throwing her completely off.
"Paracress buds aren't known for their healing, but mixed with the murtlap, it creates a mild numbing agent, which is perfect if you're brewing Virgin's Balm." He smirked down at her as her face flamed bright red. She opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to form a coherent response.
"You said dinner is ready?" He prompted, setting the ladle aside, and ushering her back up the stairs, leaving all three potions to sit as he emerged for food.
Hermione sat at the dinner table, eating mechanically, trying her best to contribute to the conversation Shroge was attempting to lead, but her mind kept going back to the Virgin's Balm. She knew what it was, but she hadn't realized WHAT it was when she'd seen it. It was completed, and it brought up a question that had seemed to loom over her for days. Was tonight the night? Would he insist they go that last step and actually make love? Would she let him? Did she really have any objections, now that he'd brewed something for the discomfort or pain she might have otherwise felt? Well, that was more than one question, she thought to herself, but they were all equally pressing. Though most didn't really quantify if the first was a 'no'. She couldn't find a way to tactfully ask in front of Shroge, and as Snape decided tonight was going to be the night he got chatty with the older wizard, she felt herself getting a bit irritated. She wanted to pull him aside, and ask him if he intended to use that potion tonight. But she couldn't when he seemed to actually be getting along with their host, agreeing easily when Shroge asked to take him up on the offer of brewing him a potion. He'd requested a simple pain-relieving potion, for days when his back started acting up. Finally, there was a lull, and Hermione decided now was as good a time as any to settle at least one of the matters that seemed to be plaguing her.
"Severus, Shroge and I were thinking about having a password for when someone gets back to the house, so we don't have to go through the raised wands, 'prove your identity' bit every time."
"Oh?" He leaned back in his chair, glancing at her with interest.
"Yes. This afternoon we discussed possible codewords, or phrases, and we decided a question-answer approach was best."
"I would agree." He shrugged.
"Especially since we might end up coming back polyjuiced as someone else, it will make the identification process go much quicker."
Snape just nodded, waiting for her to get to the point.
"So, whoever's IN the house, will meet any arrival at the door, and ask 'What's your business here?'. Something that doesn't sound like a password, and perfect for getting an answer to the question, and the wrong reply. If it's one of us three, we'll answer, "A day, a night, and a war."
"A day, a night, and a war..." Snape repeated the words, and she knew he wasn't going to forget them.
"Since You-Know-Who is a powerful legilimens, and some of his Death Eaters are, too, we've also decided on a fake password to give, to let the house-sitter know that the imposter isn't to be trusted."
"Are you practiced enough at occlumency to properly give a legilimens false information?" Snape asked dryly, glancing from her, to Shroge.
"I don't really plan on leaving the house, but I can do my best if it comes to it." Shroge replied easily. Hermione just gave Snape a small glare.
"Yes. I am." She said, entirely for Shroge's benefit, since she was sure Severus knew exactly what level her occlumency was at.
"Well then, what's the fake password?" He asked, lacing his fingers together atop the table patiently. Hermione tried not to stare too long at his hands. They really were attractive hands, long fingered, slender, neatly trimmed nails.
"'The Order of the Phoenix lives." She said, "So it sounds like it would be a real one, and they won't guess otherwise."
"Smart." He agreed. "If that's all, I've got to check on my potions before bed." he stood, gathering dishes to take to the kitchen before he went to the basement. Hermione stood, too, her cheeks tinting pink at the memory of a certain potion. She took the other half of their dishes, and followed him to the kitchen, barely hearing Shroge's words of thanks.
"Professor..." She began, looking at his back, clad in black, hair brushing past his shoulders.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" he turned to face her, leaning against the counter casually, looking as if he didn't know exactly what she was going to ask.
"That potion... the Virgin's Balm." She said it so quietly, she was sure he had to read the word on her lips. "Are you planning to use that tonight?"
"No."
She almost sighed with both relief and disappointment, until he kept speaking.
"But I also plan to spend tonight by myself." he leaned close to her, bringing his face inches from hers. "If you DO sneak over to join me again tonight, then yes. I'm going to use the potion."
Hermione swallowed, but found herself unable to step back. She wasn't afraid of him, as she might once have been. She was more than capable of defending herself, he wasn't sneering viciously, but still, she felt her legs shake slightly with the effort to remain standing. He was leaving it up to her, of course.
She was still trying to form an answer when he straightened, and walked past her, heading to the door in the living room that would lead him to his lab. She stalked up the stairs, grumbling to herself as she showered, washing the dirt from her nails, using her wand to remove the unwanted hair, and let the water run over her face, trying to make up her mind.
The problem, she decided, with Severus Snape, wasn't that he was completely ruining her. It was that he was giving her every opportunity to join him in his depraved little world, holding his hand out, and just waiting for her to join him. Which, in her opinion was far worse. She had no one to be cross with except herself as she brought about her own debasement.
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