Authors Note –
Hi all! Thanks so much for finding the time to read and explore this fantastically weird place where I put the ideas hidden in the deepest recesses of my noggin. (That's brain, by the way.) So, I know I know I know that I'm not supposed to use a chapter for just a pure authors note, but before the story starts I just wanted to hop on here and talk author to reader. There's probably a content warning in the bio, but if not, I NEED TO EMPHAZISE that this story is my idea of a *realistic au retelling* of life for all our HP characters pretty much after Order of the Phoenix. That means I'll be including the darker parts of war, including death, blood, pain and ptsd-like behaviour. I want to also say this fic will discuss other darker subjects, and I'll allude to rape, trauma, abuse, self harm and sadder often stigmatised topics. So if ANY of these things are going to trigger you, please be CAUTIOUS when you read the fic or stay away from it my darlings. That being said, I'll be trying to handle them in a really tasteful way leading to some good and therapeutic resolution.
Finally, I wanted to point out that this fic will contain a considerable amount of Ronald-bashing, and Dumbledore-bashing. Sorry, not sorry. I will however say that there is justification in the fic for it, and probably will have some sort of resolution.
In terms of pairings, you can tell by the tags that this is a Snape/Hermione fanfiction, so obviously it's really going to involve a previous teacher/student fanfiction, so if you don't like that you can go bye-bye. Plus, I'm probably going to involve some Draco/Harry goodness so if you're homophobic, bye.
All joking aside, this is something that has been hidden away inside my crazy little brain for a good number of years and I finally have the time to dedicate myself to giving these characters a proper story. In terms of a disclaimer, ALL fantastical characters in this creation, unless otherwise stated belong to J.K. Rowling, and I'm a (rather rubbish) author, building off of her brilliant and breath-taking story.
PRELUDES -
(Okay, so I know I said no more author-notes, but this is just a series of little bits to make more sense of where I want to take my AU. Thanks!)
End of First Year
A small, nervous Hermione stood outside McGonagall's office, her just-a-little-too-big robes pooling around her. Big brown eyes pricked at the corner with tears, and she knocked on the door, hoping if that she knocked quietly enough that the Professor wouldn't hear her, and the awful telling off she was expecting would just go away. Sadly, that didn't happen. The Professor ushered her in, and asked her to take a seat. Hermione gulped. "Is there anything you'd like to say, Miss Granger?"
Hermione was practically shaking at this point, thinking she was about to be expelled for Harrys Ronalds and her appalling behaviour.
"Well the thing is Professor, I just want to state that I know that by my count we've broken at least a dozen school rules. I mean, technically we've broken sixteen, which is more than a dozen. I mean, you know that, of course you know that. Well, you know actually Ronald broke six of them, and Harry broke five and I broke five but well Professor you know how bad you-know-who is and by all the things I read and I checked and honestly we wanted to tell you the truth but after we knew how important Harry was to his plan we just wanted to do something to try and stop him." Hermione had only stopped to take a breath, and McGonagall took the opportunity to interject.
"Miss Granger. You're not in any trouble, nor have I summoned you here to expel you." Hermione's mouth fell open, and she breathed out a sigh of relief. Hermione saw a glimmer in McGonagall's eyes, and instantly felt calmer, and made a mental note to find out of certain types of magic could do that. "Miss Granger, I only asked you to my office to congratulate you, and check in with how you were doing. You did an amazing exemplary thing and it was a brilliant testimony to your house. I'm exceptionally proud of you." Hermione's eyes lit up with joy. "You need to act with more confidence my dear, you're the brightest witch of your year, and you even managed to figure out Professor Snape's riddle." She leant forward conspiratorially, "Professor Binns couldn't even manage that." Hermione grinned.
End of Third Year
"Do it! Go! Now!" Hermione shoved Harry with one hand and stuffed the other into her jeans. On the other side of the door, Snape raised an eyebrow. He was sat, scrawling red ink onto papers with the intellectual value of wet paint. He heard both Harry and Hermione squabbling and squawking but tried to ignore them. Hermione knocked on the door, and without waiting for his reply, open the door and shoved Harry through, slamming it behind him. Snape glared up at him. "Mr Potter. Excellent manners as always." He glared up from his desk, and Harry debated booking it straight out of the room. It was only his Gryffindor courage that kept him paralyzed in fear on the spot. Snape smirked, but Harry interpreted it as a grimacing threat. "I, I just wanted to say, I mean, I just think that" Snape rose both his eyebrows in condescension.
"Brilliant Gryffindor nobility can't possibly fail you now can it? Though I presume Miss Granger put you up to this, so perhaps your bravery will return in her presence. Miss Granger, why don't you grace us all with your presence, since you seem so involved with what Mr Potter has to say." Hermione slinked in, looking guilty and ashamed.
"What I'm trying to say, Sir, is that I'm sorry. I've thought that you were in the wrong for so many years, and the past few days have shown me, that you're a very good and, brilliant teacher. I'm sorry for being so, unfair to you. Thank you for what you've done." Harry spat out, trying to hide the contempt seething from him.
Snape cocked his head to the side, condescension seething from him.
"Wow, Mr Potter, how brilliant you are. I feel joy ebbing into my very soul. Now that I find myself receiving your apology and gratitude I wonder how my life will ever be the same. How amazing the magic of the boy who lived is." Harry backed away, already regretting everything he'd said and vowing silently to himself to hate Snape for the rest of his life. "Get out, Mr Potter." Harry didn't need telling twice, and turned on his heels, leaving Hermione alone. "You put him up to this?" Hermione nodded, her Gryffindor courage had dissipated, leaving her with nothing but fear and a violent regret that was threatening to cause her to vomit all over the floor. "Whilst I'm sure your intention was noble, not only have you callously overstepped your mark, but you've presumed the impossibility of not only Mr Potters ability to apologise thoughtfully and humbly, but your stupid Gryffindor sentimentality to believe that I would ever appreciate an apology from a dim-witted third year." Hermione nodded and starred at the floor. Snape turned and grabbed a stack of papers from his desk. He passed them to her. "Your advanced papers. Your grades aren't entirely awful, and you've successfully completed most of your advanced O.W.L work."
Sixth Year, Or Alternative to the Half Blood Prince
Hermione let out a deep breath and splashed her face with the cold water from the sink. In the darkness of the prefect's bathroom, and long after curfew, the stress and strain of the past year had finally taken its toll. Gaunt and exhausted, sank down against the cool porcelain. Life had become so complicated, and now the world she held so dear, had been such a vital part of her existence was turning on its head. She was going to fight, that much was clear. However, for once, no matter how she thought about it, what she tried to process, she found that she didn't know the outcome. Would she survive? Would Harry? Would Ron? Hermione tried to think, to be objective and rational and smart but there was too much at stake. Harry had too much resting on his shoulders, and Ron was too infatuated with Lavender. She pushed away the bitter anger she felt at Ron for being with someone who had been so mean to her for so many years, and rubbed her deep set, sallow eyes. Her cream jumper fell off her shoulders, exposing her fail frame. She'd lost weight, forgetting to eat, spending late nights in the library, getting ready to fight. Hermione was tired and couldn't summon the energy to leave. Hearing someone coming, she raised her eyes to the door, and clambered, rather inelegantly up. Pansy Parkinson, and Jessica Dolohov. Hermione tried to cast a illusion charm, to hide from them and leave as quietly as possible, but they spotted her before she could. "Expelliarmus!" Parkinson caught Hermione's wand in the air, and sneered at her. "Poor little mudblood, out after dark!" Her high pitched whining seemed to reverberate off the walls, and Hermione couldn't help but wince at the term mudblood. Both girls seemed to be drunk, and Hermione suspected that they'd been to yet another Slytherin rave in the forbidden forest. Even the Slytherins were stressed over the knowledge of the dark lords return, and were acting out recklessly. "Pansy, just give it back. We don't have to do this." Hermione tried to sound strong, but she knew she wouldn't be a match for the two girls, especially without a wand. Jessica ran up to her and slapped her. Hermione shrunk against the force of Jessica Dolohov. She was a big girl, and Hermione seemed to bend like a tree in the wind.
"Why should she? We're all just a little bit sick of little miss golden trio, always being so much fucking smarter than the rest of us. Why don't you shut the fuck up for once Granger, and suck it the fuck up." Shit. Hermione knew the girls were drunk. But she didn't think they'd go this far.
"Jessica, Pansy. Please. I know you hate me but just give me my wand back, you don't have to do this. I'll just leave and I wont tell anyone."
"Alarte Ascendare!" Hermione barely had time to look at Pansy before she was blasted into the air, her back hitting the ceiling and her face smashing against the tile floor. She felt the blood ebbing out of her face but couldn't feel it hurting. Not yet. She tried to talk, but only gurgles and gasps came out.
"Poor little fucking Granger." Hermione was aware of Pansy walking around her, and from her limited vision, she could see Jessica in front of her. "She'll be dead by the end of the night, when the Dark Lord has finished his work." Jessica Dolohov laughed, and kicked Hermione in the stomach. She wretched, but nothing came out. Pansy laughed, high pitched and maniacal.
"And the stupid little mudblood, spend the last six years being a complete abomination to our kind and our people, parading around her intelligence like it was something special, will be less than a footnote." Pansy hit her with another spell as she said this, Hermione didn't know what it was, but could feel the burning and slicing beginning on her body. She was encompassed in fear and pain.
"Let's go. We have work to do." With a pop, they apparated away, leaving Hermione's wand sadistically just out of reach. Still gasping for air, she knew this meant something was very bad, and very wrong. Student's couldn't apparate in and out of Hogwarts, and what work was the dark lord doing tonight? Attempting to role onto her stomach, and crawl to her wand, blistering and continuing pain radiated out from her. She thought a pipe must have burst, or the sink overflown, as she felt so wet, her clothes soaking around her. When she looked down, through the haze of pain and tears, her cream sweater was stained. Crimson. Taking time to catch her breath, Hermione didn't know if seconds, minutes or hours had passed when she heard someone storming into the bathrooms.
"What the fuck? Granger?" Damnit. Malfoy. Perhaps he'd come to finish the job, perhaps he'd do it quickly. Hermione was in the mood for small mercy's. Trying to cry out again, her screams came out as a baby whisper.
"Draco, please." She looked up, and from the mix of fear and revolution on his face, she knew she must have looked bad. Thankfully, he didn't seem to be alone.
"You've got to listen to me Malfoy, I can help you! You're going too far, and I know you didn't want to do it! I saw it in your face! Oh my God! Hermione! What the fuck did you do to her?" Harry ran to Hermione's side, and ran to his wand against her. The splicing pain started to stop, replaced by a soothing coolness. He looked up at Draco. "Get some fucking help Malfoy, I don't know what the fuck's happened to her." Draco was stood, motionless. He was staring down at the crimson pooling around her. It wasn't dirty, it wasn't black or dark brown. It was red. It was just blood. He knew the "mudblood" argument was about more than literal blood, but he was struck by how normal, and clean and safe she looked. The night had just been too much. After his failure to kill Dumbledore, he'd just ran, not even sure where he was going or knowing that Potter had followed him. He guessed that Snape had gone through with it, a darkness had fallen around Hogwarts, and he knew that Dumbledore was dead. The war had begun. He felt sick. He turned, and expelled the contents of his stomach. Hermione was still gasping for breath, and Harrys spells were coming to the end of their usefulness, and her injuries were returning. It seemed his healing had only worked temporarily.
"Malfoy, we need to go, now." It wasn't a question. Snape's looming form came out of no-where, popping up behind Malfoy, and stopped to look at Miss Granger. Wordlessly, he was at her side. Snape pushed Harry away, ignoring his screams and accusations. He ran his wand over her, and cradled her head with his other hand. She healed, slowly, but quicker than she would have if Harry continued with his ham fisted attempts. She gasped for air and tried to push herself up into a sitting position. Snape was still holding onto her, and stared intently into her eyes for what seemed like an eternity. It was mere seconds in reality, and before she knew it, he'd broken contact. Harry threw a half-hearted curse at him, tears of anger rolling down his cheeks, but he blocked it, and stepping over the vomit, apparated away, dragging Draco with him by his shirt collar. Hermione steadied herself, glancing down at her jumper. It was still stained, but she was perfectly healed. That was how she felt on the inside too. She'd never let Harry or Ron know, not until they needed to, but in those moments she held Snape's gaze, he'd imparted vital information with her, throwing what the golden trio needed to know to win the war into her. She stood up, and began making a list in her head of everything they needed to do. Harry tried to stop her.
"Mione, you can't! You've just been hurt, you need to rest, who did this? I'll kill them!"
She turned to him, and grabbed his face in her hands.
Harry, we haven't got time for this. We need to leave, and we need to leave now. The war has started and Dumbledore is dead. We don't have a lot of time before Hogwarts isn't safe anymore. Get Ron and meet me by the tree where you first met you know who in the forbidden forrest in fifteen minutes. Do you understand?" Harry nodded, and she let him go
"But where are you going? Shouldn't we stick together?" She turned to him before leaving the bathroom.
"Never mind that! I'm just going to get somethings we're going to need. Just get Ronald and meet me!" She didn't stop to hear his reply, instead running as fast as her legs would carry her to the restricted section in the Library. Hidden about six months ago, and only accessible by the tapping and moving of a string of books, Hermione had packed all the essentials she thought they might need. She drew a deep breath, joints and brain still aching from all her body had gone through. Processing everything made her head spin. She knew that information from one wizard could be shared to the next through a kind of reverse legilimency, but she thought that it was incredibly difficult and rare. Snape was an incredible wizard, this much was undeniably true, but he'd done it with such skill, without even seemingly batting an eye.
He'd given her so much information, from locations of three horcruxes, to how much Draco was really unwilling to be a part of the Death Eaters. She sobbed when she thought over the truth he shared of Harrys destiny. He'd given her enough information to trust him, and in truth, she did anyway. If Dumbledore trusted him, so did she. But why her? Why would Snape trust her of all people? What was he hiding? Why did he share those memories of his childhood? So she'd trust him? But did he trust her? He must trust her enough to know she wouldn't humiliate him to Ron or Harry. Pushing her questions away, and wiping her tears, she slung her bag over her bag, and apparated into the night.