A/N: Hello! This story is a translation. You can find it in Spanish and Catalan in my profile, so if you speak either of those languages, you can check them out ;) It is basically a friendship Snamione fic, although there are some romance hints. Interpret it the way it makes you feel happier.
The HP world belongs to JK Rowling.
Enjoy!
Soul friends, soulmates
"Do you mind sitting down for a while? My feet are killing me!" cried out Hermione.
Viktor Krum, her date, smiled and nodded, telling her he would come back with drinks. The muggle-born witch sat down and let her mind wander while her classmates threw her glances. Hermione Granger felt… special. It was weird. Well, the truth was that she was used to feeling students' eyes fixed on her, but that was because they usually were in awe of the knowledge she showed in class. Many admired her intelligence, mostly gryffindors. After all, she won many House points for them. Nevertheless, the reason why everybody was staring at her was different today.
The Yule Ball.
Hermione had dressed for the occasion. She had never been into fashion, and the fact she had spent all day transfiguring the perfect dress and preparing the potion that would tame her wild hair embarrassed her. At least, the effort had paid off. It was the first time she felt beautiful, the first time she knew students admired her for something more than being brainy. It was the first time she felt like a woman. Well, not like a woman, but like an attractive girl. Viktor Krum made her feel even prettier. His flattery made her heart beat faster than recommended, but she didn't mind.
A shiver ran down her spine. Somebody was staring intently at her, blurring the other glances. Swallowing hard, she turned her head and met a pair of black eyes that didn't belong to any student but a Professor. The gaze was so profound it knocked the wind out of her. Despite the distance between them, the girl was able to read hundreds of contradictory emotions in those onyx stones: fear, enthusiasm, longing, remorse and… fondness? Since when did Professor Snape show fondness? Since when did Professor Snape express any sentiment that wasn't disgust, disappointment or rage? Since when did Professor Snape look at her, for starters? He always ignored her when she raised her hand in class, and if he let her speak, he never suppressed snarky remarks that meant to hurt her. Hence, why was the Potions Master hypnotized by her? As if Hermione had voiced her thoughts, Severus darted his enthralled eyes away and pretended nothing happened. His face was blank.
The Yule Ball hadn't ended like Hermione had expected. Ron had spoiled it all. She wasn't keen on spreading rumors; she didn't fancy everybody seeing her cry uncontrollably. She needed to scurry away. She dried her tears to no avail and dashed into the seventh floor. The Room of Requirement opened, inviting her to hide from the world, or so she thought.
As soon as the magic room closed the door, something pointy pressed against her neck: a wand. Hermione let out a strangled huff. The gloom of the room impeded the recognition of the attacker. Nonetheless, she knew whoever was assaulting her was close to her, for his ragged respiration and hot breath hit her skin.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?"
The voice was masculine, of a low pitch and soothing, despite the hostile cry he let out. Hermione stayed mute, petrified. She didn't have her wand with her. She had assumed she wouldn't need it in the Ball. Now, though, she would have done anything to clasp it tightly in her hand.
"Answer me!"
The strident and impatient tone snapped Hermione out of her thoughts.
"My name is Hermione Granger. I needed to be alone, that's why I came here."
The girl realized she wasn't crying anymore, but her voice hadn't been as steady as usual. She wasn't feeling fine yet. The wand vacillated before guarding down.
"I was here before. You'll have to wait until I get out if you want to be alone. Until then, get out of my sight."
"Excuse me?" She narrowed her eyes in indignation and furrowed her brow. "I have the same right than you do to go wherever I please! If I want to stay in the Room of Requirement, I'll stay. I won't go just because a complete stranger threatens me. I am not like that."
The boy took a step back, surprised by her outburst. A deep silence followed, a deep silence that incommoded her. The room lit up progressively until Hermione could study the boy's traits.
He was taller than Ron and quite thin, about her age, slightly older, perhaps. Slytherin uniform. The fabric was worn-out, second-hand clothes, most likely. She focused on his angular face and high cheekbones. The first thing she noticed was his big, hooked nose; his most prominent feature, hands down. His lips were thin, of a pinkish pale color. His skin was so pale he looked ill. The white contrasted against this greasy long black hair, as black as the raven's feathers, black as his eyes, two endless tunnels that shone with no happiness. The image of Professor Snape crossed her mind. The resemblance was impressive. They could even pass off as father and son.
Wait.
Snape with children? The mere thought was ludicrous.
"Why are you laughing?"
Wasn't her laughter only in her mind? Had she really laughed out loud? That had certainly not been her intention. She flushed, looking everywhere except those coal eyes.
"I'm sorry. You look like someone I know."
The boy raised an eyebrow in skepticism. He was studying her too. Neither of them made a move until the slytherin spat she could stay as long as she respected his space. The girl nodded and saw how he receded towards a table with plenty of potions ingredients. Hermione had to fight back a giggle. The boy and Snape could be family, indeed.
"Are you related to Severus Snape by chance?"
Hermione had always been a curious girl, and the question hung in the air before she realized she had opened her mouth in the first place. The boy popped his head up so rapidly that Hermione worried he had hurt his neck. He forgot his potion and fixed his glance on her. Hermione was unable to read any emotion on his face. His glare was so piercing she took one step back.
"Are you kidding me?"
She frowned.
"Why would I be kidding? The resemblance is outstanding: same nose, same cheekbones, same eyes, same hair, same interests… Even your voice and the way you carry yourself is similar."
"Look, Granger, I don't need you to pull wool over my eyes. I have never seen you, but you know me… Why?"
"I don't know you. I only know Professor Snape, with whom you share so many traits it's scary."
"Professor Snape?" he muttered to himself. He shook his head as if that would make him forget about that detail. "My name is Severus Snape. I don't know whom the hell you are talking about."
"Now you are the one joking," she countered back, folding her arms across her chest, looking at him with a lifted eyebrow.
The boy grimaced and retorted, "I'm not lying."
"Neither am I."
The slytherin was staring intently at her again. His eyes roamed from her feet to her face.
"Are you a Hogwarts student?"
"Yes."
"Why aren't you wearing the uniform, then?"
"Today's the Yule Ball," she answered, rolling her eyes. "Everybody knows it. Everybody bar you, I suppose."
"It's spring."
"What?"
"We have just sat the OWL's exams. It isn't winter."
Hermione mused on it. His body language wasn't that of a liar, but she was telling the truth as well. She couldn't forget this boy resembled her Professor immensely. He even affirmed he had the same name. Nonsense. Unless this was an alternative dimension, that is. It was either that or a trip back in time, but everybody knew it was impossible to travel back so many years in time.
"Time travel?"
Why the hell wasn't she aware of when she spoke out loud?
"I can't come up with a better explanation," she said with a shrug.
Silence conquered the room while the youngsters pondered the options.
"Are you a fourth or fifth-year?"
"Fourth-year."
"From what year do you come from?"
"1994."
"I'm a fifth-year, 1976. Do you believe the Room of Requirement permits time travel?"
"I find no other logical explanation…" She paused, tilted her head and pressed her lips. "Why did you come here?"
"It's none of your business," he exclaimed in self-defense, not even bothering looking at her.
"On the contrary. This room provides what we require. It must have a reason to make us meet, don't you think?"
His nose crinkled.
"No offense, Granger, but I didn't require the presence of a dunderhead from the future."
With that said, he headed towards the door, ignoring the girl, who was looking at him wide-eyed. First he insulted her and then he left without even whispering goodbye. At least, Professor Snape was cold but more refined. Her thoughts were interrupted by a frustrated groan.
"What's the matter?"
"I can't open the bloody door," he complained, his cheeks flushed.
Now she was frightened. Hermione joined Severus. She tried to push the heavy door, while he muttered all the possible charms that could be useful. Nothing worked and exasperation ran through their veins.
"This is the Room of Requirement, right? I reckon it won't open until we get what we need…"
Severus huffed, but the truth was that what Hermione had said made sense, so he swallowed his pride for once.
"All right, future girl. Let's say you are on the right path. What do we need?"
She bit her bottom lip.
"I don't know… Why did you come here? What were you seeking in this room?"
"That's personal. I won't tell you."
Her patience was running thin. She was fed up with Ron's idiotic comments; she didn't need a teen version of the Professor who detested her talking to her in such manners. Her coffee eyes burnt.
"Of course you'll do it! I happen to have a life outside these walls, you know? I am certain you do too, considering that you were whining about the door not opening a minute ago! So start talking! I don't have all day!"
His pupils dilated. Nobody had ever addressed him like that, nobody except Lily, sometimes, when she was really mad.
Lily.
Only thinking about her name made him shut his eyes in regret. She was his only hope, his only light in his dark life. She was the candle that lit up the room, yet unwittingly, Severus had snuffed out, and the flame danced no more. There wasn't even the hint of the smolder. He had tried to light the candle again, but the girl of auburn hair had made her decision: calling her mudblood was unforgivable. Everybody thought Severus was a cold person, but perhaps that was why he needed warmth and heat so much. He needed someone who didn't look him with aversion, who didn't look him with fear. Now that the candle didn't burn, he felt colder than ever.
To Hermione's mind, it was way easier to read young Severus than adult Severus. This younger version did not have so much practice at covering his emotions behind a mask. Sometimes, he forgot to conceal them, and now it was one of those times. Remorse, sorrow and shame ruled over his features. She had never seen him so vulnerable. On the contrary, the Snape she knew resembled a stone. He was an almost unemotional man. Suddenly, the fire that had blazed in rage inside the girl went out and was replaced by compassion.
"Severus, I can start…"
He shot his head up with wide eyes, speechless.
"Ron is my friend. He asked me to the Yule Ball as a last resort, and then he got mad at me because another boy asked me before him, and I accepted." She puffed. "It's like he believes that nobody will ever fancy me! As if I wasn't pretty enough! I know it! I know I am an insufferable know-it-all! I know my hair is too frizzy! But I am a human being! I like being told I am pretty! And that other guy makes me feel pretty… Ron says my date is the enemy only because he comes from another school. I can date whomever I please! But his opinion still affects me, and I hate it!"
The more she talked, the more her voice raised, her fists clenched, her blood boiled. Severus interrupted her before she gave him a headache.
"So you've come here because you didn't want that Ron to see you so… affected, as you put it. Neither Ron nor anyone, for the matter."
Hermoine nodded and took a big breath in an attempt to relax.
"And why do Ron's views on you matter so much to you?" he inquired with a lifted eyebrow.
"He's my friend. Of course I care!"
Severus suppressed a snigger.
"It's evident that he is more than a friend to you. You wouldn't react like this, otherwise."
Her cheeks flushed. She wanted to crawl under a rock.
"Am I so obvious?"
She only got a nod from him as an answer.
"Right. You already know why I am here. Your turn."
Changing the topic appeared to be the safest option. She didn't fancy a chat about her love life with her future Professor. This was humiliating enough.
"Granger, look, the fact that you opened up to me does not mean I will do the same."
She snorted.
"Oh, come on! I didn't pour my heart to you just to be met with silence!"
"I cannot open up like you do, okay?! It isn't easy for me! You know me, but I don't know you!"
She put her hands on her hips.
"That isn't true. I know Professor Severus Snape, not Severus Snape, the student."
There was a long pause. The boy engaged in staring at the floor and waiting for Hermione to say something else, for her words had left him speechless. Nevertheless, she wasn't the one who broke the quiet ambient. The Room itself did. A blanket and a single bed appeared in front of them. Severus groaned. The Room of Requirement was mocking them, as if it knew the door wouldn't open tonight, as if it had deigned to provide them with a mattress so that, leastwise, they could get some sleep.
"I have no desire to spend the night here!" whined the girl. "I wanted to cry alone for five minutes and go back to the Gryffindor Tower to sleep and forget about everything."
Severus huffed and muttered under his breath, "Of course. You had to be a gryffindor."
Hermione heard him loud and clear, and she couldn't help but feel offended.
"Yes, I'm a gryffindor. Is there any problem? I haven't complained about you being a slytherin."
Severus overlooked her comment and proceeded to take off his shoes and lay on the bed, wrapping himself in the blanket.
"What are you doing?" asked Hermione with wide eyes.
"We won't find out how to leave this place tonight. I've been clever and I've taken the bed and the blanket. Goodnight. I hope the floor is to your liking."
She gasped. This version of Severus was simply rude. And selfish. So very selfish.
"I can't believe it! You could lend me the blanket, at least, don't you think?"
Severus pretended to be asleep and grinned wickedly when he heard the exasperated grunt of the girl. The Room of Requirement turned the light off and they drifted off to sleep, he on the bed, she on the floor, although not for long.
Past midnight, her groans woke him up. He was about to ask her to lower the volume when he felt something warm against his side. Shit. She wasn't on the floor. No. She was lying right next to him. Joy. Just what he needed. She seemed to be dreaming, and the dream wasn't precisely pleasant. Severus shook her, but it didn't work. She remained imprisoned in her nightmare.
"Granger!"
Nothing.
"Come on! Wake up!"
A few more screams and Hermione obeyed him at last. Her respiration was labored and there was a trace of sweat on her forehead. Severus wanted to kick her out of the bed and continue sleeping, but something told him he wouldn't be able to until the girl calmed down.
"Breathe, Granger. It was a nightmare."
She thanked the darkness of the room for hiding her blush, forced herself to even her breathing and apologized.
He huffed.
"I don't want you to apologize! I want you to go to the floor and let me sleep!"
"I won't do as you say!"
"Indeed, you will! I'm your Professor. I will remember this and I will make you pay."
Blackmailing was a low yet effective blow. She didn't know if Professor Snape treated her so badly because of whatever was bound to happen in this room, but she didn't want to tempt her fate. Against her will, she returned to the floor and kept mute, internally insulting her future Potions Master. She was cold, yet her lioness pride impeded her to open her mouth and request the blanket. She thought Severus had already fallen asleep, so she was astounded when she felt somebody covering her with the blanket the room had offered them. She couldn't suppress a surprised gasp.
That's when Severus blurted out, "Sorry. I thought you were asleep."
Severus apologizing. She might be trapped in a dream still. She pinched her arm, the act covered under the blanket. Nope. That had hurt. She was awake.
"I thought you were asleep. Why have you given me the blanket?"
He grimaced.
"I thought you would appreciate the gesture. If you don't want the blanket, I'll take it back. It's cold, after all."
"There's no need!" she cried out, wrapping herself even more in the blanket. He lifted an eyebrow and that was when she realized how desperate she sounded. "Er- I mean… Thanks."
Fifteen minutes later, Severus's voice woke a half-drowsy Hermione up.
"I'm bloody cold," he whined.
"You gave me the blanket. It's rude to give back presents, Snape," mocked the girl, savoring the little vengeance.
After all, her back was beginning to ache. She might as well enjoy the little warmth the blanket provided and have some fun while she was at it.
"I want the blanket."
"And I want the bed. Barter time?"
"Dream on, Granger. The bed is mine."
"Enjoy it, then. The blanket is mine. I hope the temperature is to your liking," she parroted his previous words.
He grunted. She got on his nerves.
"Fine, we'll share the blanket… and the bed. You came here before, anyway. There is nothing that guarantees me you won't do it again."
She smiled in triumph and crawled into bed. Severus gave his back to her and put the maximum distance between them both, ensuring the blanket covered him from head to toes. Hermione was fine with that. Sleeping on a mattress was far better than sleeping on the cold hard floor, even if she had to sleep next to his future teacher.
No more words were exchanged until the Room lit up, waking them up. Next to the bed, there was a breakfast for two and one book. Hermione couldn't resist taking it and skimming through the pages with intense curiosity.
"Sherlock Holmes. I like these novels," mumbled the boy in his deep just woken-up voice.
She felt her heart skipping a beat. Why did she like his voice? She had never paid attention to it. She shook her head and tried to decipher the exact words he had said. Sherlock Holmes. He likes him. How fascinating and weird. Who knew Professor Snape was familiar with the muggle literature and even enjoyed it?
"How come you know them? Sherlock is a character from muggle books."
"My mother is a witch, but my father is a muggle," he said with a shrug. "I've grown up reading Arthur Conan Doyle's novels."
She would have never guessed that her Potions Master used to read muggle novels as a child, and for some reason, the mental image of an eight-year-old Severus absorbed in a world of mystery with a thousand enigmas that Sherlock had to solve provoked a sentiment of fondness in her chest. Her lips wrinkled a bit, enough to draw a gentle grin on her face. Severus stared at her, fixing his gaze on her lips as if mesmerized. Making people smile wasn't a talent of his, but somehow, Hermione proved him wrong.
"What do you like the most about his books?"
Her question was the beginning of a long, pleasant conversation that blurred time. They didn't even realize they hadn't had breakfast or tried to find a way to leave the Room until her stomach rumbled.
"I'd say the future girl is hungry…" he teased with a smirk.
"Oh, shut up! I'm sure you are hungry too. Come on, let's eat." A while later, she sipped her pumpkin juice and asked, "What were you brewing?"
Should he tell her? Her eyes were curious. She didn't look like she wanted to mock him about his inclination for Potions the way Sirius did, comparing it with childish chemistry sets.
"I was experimenting with the Draught of Living Death."
This awoke an interest in the girl, who couldn't suppress a blast of questions about the mentioned experiment. Severus looked comfortable around her, chatting about Potions. A gifted boy lay underneath the sardonic mask, a boy thirsty for knowledge who fought to be his better self, and Hermione considered herself lucky she had seen this side of him.
"Severus," she said, anguished to see how he would react to her calling him by his first name.
He didn't look bothered by it. That was good, wasn't it? It meant he didn't detest her as much as she had initially thought.
"Do you think that now that we have talked and know each other better you could tell me why you entered this room?"
In spite of her sweet and soothing voice, his expression darkened, his nose wrinkled.
"The fact that we have talked about Sherlock Holmes and Potions doesn't mean I trust you!"
She frowned. Back to the cold Severus. She already missed his other side.
"The Room of Requirement won't open if you don't! Don't you want to come back?"
His silence spoke volumes. Her eyes widened.
"You don't want to come back," she mumbled more to herself than to him, although Severus heard her. He didn't even move, though. "Why? Why don't you want to come back?"
He shrugged and fixed his gaze on the floor.
Hermione, famous for her stubbornness, pressed, "You wanted to leave this place yesterday."
"I'm not in a hurry now."
"Why? Don't you want to go back to your world? To your time? Don't you want to forget about this gryffindor?" she asked, pointing to herself at the end.
Minutes passed. He didn't answer. Hermione gave up and read the Sherlock Holmes book to spend the time doing something useful and entertaining until he dropped his reserved facade and spoke up. She was so into the narrative that she almost didn't hear him.
"I don't care that you are a gryffindor. You are sometimes impulsive, and you have a temper, but that's fine by me."
Hermione flashed him a radiant grin and, by a miracle of life, the corners of his mouth twitched a bit. She couldn't describe it as a smile, but it was an attempt that got very close to that. In fact, it was the closest thing to a smile she had ever seen from Severus.
"You should keep that in mind when you are a Professor. It's your fault that Gryffindor loses so many points."
"My fault?!" he huffed. "It's not my bloody fault that gryffindors don't know the definition of good behavior."
She rolled her eyes and added, accusing him of being unfair implicitly, "You've told me I am an insufferable know-it-all too many times to count. And I had only raised my hand to respond to a question nobody else in the class had the answer to."
It was his turn to roll his eyes.
"I'm sure you are the typical bothersome that knows absolutely everything and doesn't let other people shine in class… Now I see why that Ron believed nobody would ever notice you."
Now he had screwed up. He had screwed up real bad. That throbbing vein in her neck was proof enough.
"Very well, then! If I am so annoying, tell me once and for all what you were looking for in here! Thus, you will forget about me until I am born and I attend Hogwarts!"
"I won't tell you."
"Oh, indeed you will!"
"You can't force me."
"It's not a theory you want to test, trust me."
"I don't care what you think, Granger. You can't make me confess why I came here."
Her eyes filled with rage to the point the brown shade burnt with a reddish undertone, as if they hid flames. Impulsively, she stole his wand and pointed it at him. He made a choking sound but didn't move.
"Start talking, Snape."
"Or else?"
"Or else I will use your wand."
"You won't do anything to me. You are too noble to harm me. Gryffindors," he mocked.
Hermione was fed up and with a flick of the wand, birds appeared out of the blue and attacked Severus.
"Fucking hell! Stop it! Make them stop!" he shrieked, curling himself into a ball and hiding his face from the beaks.
"Will you explain everything to me?"
"No."
"Then enjoy the loving company of the birds."
"Okay, okay! You win!"
Satisfied, the wand flicked again and the birds melted away.
"Was this show necessary?" he asked, standing up and trying hard not to blush.
"Yes. Why did you come here?"
She kept pointing him with his own wand, so he had no choice. He confessed.
"Same reason as yours… I wanted to hide, that is all."
"Why?" she asked, the tip of the wand piercing his neck just in case he forgot that the birds would come again if he didn't collaborate.
"Because I made a mistake and the only friend I've ever had doesn't want to see me."
It was crystal clear that he regretted whatever had occurred. His black eyes had never shown so much vulnerability. His voice had never hidden so much pain. The hysteria and fury of the girl died with those words. She even lowered the wand. Everything she felt right then was compassion.
"Now you know. Can you give me my wand back, or do you need to invoke your minions with wings and beak one last time?"
She healed his wounds and gave it back with her head down and her cheeks red, ashamed of the way her emotions had possessed her.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
Severus was surprised by her change of attitude, from fierce to gentle.
"Remind me not to piss you off. My life is in danger with you."
Snape kidding. Another part of his personality that she had never seen before. Hermione erupted into laughter and noticed that even Severus let out a chuckle. She had never heard such a captivating sound coming from the Potions Master. He was more attractive when he laughed. Focus, Hermione, she thought. He's your Professor, not your friend, let alone a possible boyfriend.
"We already know why we came, to hide. Now what?" he asked as his face grew as serious as usual.
"We try to open the door?"
Her proposition turned out futile and Severus didn't think twice before reproaching her that for being a know-it-all her ideas weren't particularly bright.
"I haven't heard you suggesting anything better!"
"Because I don't even know how we can get out of here at the same time! We come from different years!"
"But we came in through the same door! We should go out through the same place, shouldn't we?"
"What do I know?"
"I thought you were smarter!"
"You're the one to talk!"
The more they argued, the more the temperature increased.
"Wait! Don't you feel it's hotter in here?" asked Severus, scanning the room.
Why did he even ask? He didn't need her to voice it was hotter, not when her hands were slightly clammy and some sweat shone on her forehead, due to the argument or the room, he wasn't entirely sure, although he would bet it was the latest.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"We have to stop arguing, now," he growled, shooting her a warning look.
"Why?"
"Because I want to see if the temperature drops before the room becomes a literal desert and we die of a heat stroke!" he cried out, throwing his arms up in exasperation.
Hermione complained under her breath. She looked at his night black eyes and felt herself growing mute. He was right. The temperature was moderate again.
"It isn't hot anymore. Do you know what that means?" he inquired with a half-triumphant grin.
"It means the room won't let us leave until we get on well."
"Exactly," he agreed. "So think twice before stealing my wand again."
She groaned.
"I already apologized!"
His low chuckles echoed across the room, and Hermione gave him a smile despite the circumstances they were in. She knew he had merely teased her, and she was fine with it.
"Hermione."
He hadn't called her by her surname, like she had done with him earlier when they chatted about Potions. It was the first time the name Hermione slipped from his thin lips, and she found she liked the way it sounded in his velvety voice.
"Mmm?"
"Are you still affected because of what Ron told you?"
That question was the eraser that had wiped out the grin from her face.
"Well, I'll always be an insufferable know-it-all. It's what you told me earlier, it's what you keep telling me in the future. It's what Ron thinks about me too. You aren't very different in that sense," she reproached, her tone offended. "Of course I'm still affected, principally when you keep reminding me!"
I'm sure you are the typical bothersome that knows absolutely everything and doesn't let other people shine in class… Now I see why that Ron believed nobody would ever notice you. Those were the precise words he had uttered before lethal birds assaulted him. His heart sank. Why did he care so much about what she thought about him? He didn't want to know the answer, although he intuited it.
"I didn't mean it. I speak nonsense when I'm mad. That's why I lost Li-" he paused and corrected himself before saying her name. "A friend of mine. I'm sorry."
She bit her bottom lip and looked up at him.
"Do you mean that?"
"Well, I guess you will always be an impulsive pigheaded know-it-all, but that doesn't mean nobody can find you attractive. That's what was bothering you, isn't it? That nobody found you pretty? No need to worry then."
"Why?"
He shrugged.
"I think you're pretty. This dress looks good on you, and you remind me of my friend. Er, former friend. She was a gryffindor too, and as stubborn as you."
Her cheeks grew pinkish. Only her parents and Krum had ever called her pretty, but everybody knew parents' opinions were never much reliable. Most parents found their children beautiful. Hence, Severus was officially the second guy who had ever called her pretty. What a great surprise.
"Do you mean it?"
Her voice was as hopeful as her face. He couldn't lie. She wasn't Lily or Narcissa, but she had a special flair.
"Yes."
"And if I wasn't wearing this dress? What then?"
His brows snapped together.
"A person is ugly or pretty. It doesn't depend on clothes. I thought you were intelligent enough to figure that out," he quipped in the end.
She laughed and nudged him. Severus didn't understand why he had provided her that response, but he didn't regret it. Her laughter was worth it.
"You have to talk to your friend, Severus. You're a good boy."
"She doesn't agree," he said in a low voice, dropping his gaze.
"Then show her she's wrong."
If he looked at the problem like that, it appeared an easy task. Severus almost convinced himself that he was able to get Lily back. Almost.
"I think I know what we needed…" she murmured out of the blue, her gaze fixed on his black eyes, those eyes that intrigued her so much.
"Enlighten me."
"We both hid from the world, but all we needed was a friend. The Room's provided us with one. I needed a friend who valued me, unlike Ron. And you needed a friend to remind you that even though you've made a mistake, you have a good heart."
Her voice was still echoing across the Room when two doors appeared, making a rumbling sound. The door from the right had 1994 etched on the wood, whereas the door from the left had the year 1976. Hermione squealed and bounced. She threw herself at Severus and caught him in her arms. His cheeks reddened. After a few seconds of vacillation, he put his hands on the back of his new friend.
"We can come back!"
Hermione would have infected anybody with her enthusiasm, anybody bar Severus. When she made to release him, he tightened his grip and brought her closer to him. There were two possible justifications for his reaction. First, Severus was a secret fan of cuddles. Second, Severus wasn't feeling good. It was easy to discard the first option, so she asked him if he was okay. He took his time to answer, but when he did, he broke her heart.
"I won't see you again until the nineties. The Room's supposedly given me a friend. I've just lost one. I don't want history to repeat itself."
Such a feeble voice had never come out his mouth, not that Hermione was aware of. She was used to his authoritarianism, confidence and snark, not his vulnerability.
"You won't lose me. I'll come back to this Room. You will be able to explain how you are doing with your friend to me."
"You'll be able to vent about Ron too."
Hermione laughed, and this time, when she made to extract herself from the embrace, Severus didn't stop her.
"See you soon, even if it is to chat about potions and Sherlock Holmes?"
"See you soon, friend," she answered, pushing her chest out.
The door was about to be thrown open when Severus muttered, "You deserve someone better than Ron. He must be blind if he can't see your inner and outer beauty."
She couldn't answer him. He was already out. Hermione left too, a bit shaken by his last sentence. What she would have never guessed was that the first thing that would happen to her back in her time was stumbling across the black robes of her Potions Master.
"S-sorry, sir. I didn't s-see you," she apologized, a bit startled.
She kept quiet, waiting for a punishment or a high deduction of House points. Neither of those options occurred. Curious, her gaze fell on Severus, this time the stern adult version of his. Odd. In spite of having the same eyes, they looked entirely different. These held fatigue. It wasn't a normal tiredness from daily life but from a whole life, as if he had had to endure more than anybody deserved. Why hadn't she ever noticed that before?
"You come from talking to the younger me, don't you?"
The question made her smile. He remembered her! That meant they had met more times. But then again, if they were friends, why did he treat her so badly at school? Something was off.
"Yes."
As soon as the word tripped off her tongue, Severus turned on his heel and made to leave, his cloak billowing behind him.
"Severus!"
He halted and swung about slowly.
"Professor Snape to you, Miss Granger. The fact that you met a younger version of me does not give you the excuse to call me by my first name."
"Excuse me," she apologized, knowing full well that the loving smart boy he had met was dead now. Tears brimmed in her eyes. "It slipped."
Like the time the word mudblood slipped from my lips years ago, he thought. Perhaps that is why his voice lost some of its coldness.
"Procure it doesn't happen again."
"So we aren't friends any longer? Should I separate the two Severus I know even though they are supposed to be the same person?"
Obviously, she was hurt. She was an open book, unlike Severus, who had built walls around his heart that guarded anything similar to an emotion.
"You wrecked our friendship, Miss Granger. It was your decision, not mine. It doesn't matter anymore. I am your Professor. Any other relationship beyond student-teacher would not be appropriate."
"My decision? Will something happen when we meet again?"
Severus ignored her question and fearful voice.
"We spent practically a day together, but time works differently in the Room. There are still students dancing in the Great Hall. Goodnight, Miss Granger."
This time, he didn't turn around when Hermione called him. Her head was filled with doubts. Had she destroyed their friendship? How come? What had gone so wrong that had made Severus hate her? And if he detested her so much, why would he look at her with so much tenderness during the Yule Ball? Why had he waited for her to come out of the Room of Requirement?
Nothing made sense.
Hermione was a sixth-year. She had gone so many times to the Room of Requirement that she had lost track. Alas, she hadn't seen young Severus again. They hadn't discussed the topic but maybe that was the reason why Professor Snape treated her the way he did, because they didn't meet again.
Today had been a bad day. Hermione had just caught Ron and Lavender snogging. No. Not snogging. Eating each other's mouths. Harry had supported her and she had already had her little opugno revenge. The birds had chased Ron and she had felt better for a few seconds, but then she felt even worse. When Harry left, she cried, the sounds muffled by her hands.
The voice of the last person she had imagined that would cheer her up spoke in that silky tone she loved so much, "You should have listened to me, Miss Granger. Mr. Weasley doesn't deserve your affection."
"Why do you say so?" she wondered, wiping her tears with her sleeve.
A long silence.
"Because it is the truth."
She froze. What did those five words imply?
"Do you still find me pretty?"
His pupils dilated.
"Miss Granger! This isn't appropriate at all! I made it clear that our relationship is teacher-student. Nothing more."
"Yes, but it wasn't my decision. I went back to the Room of Requirement. You weren't there."
His scowl dissipated gradually.
"You went back?"
"I'm not lying. I'm pants at it, anyway."
He looked at her intently, an unfathomable expression on his face.
"I went back too. You weren't there either."
She huffed and assumed, "So you were resentful… That's why you disparaged me."
"That was not the only reason, but I cannot lie and say it did not influence. It did. I thought you had abandoned me. I never talked to my friend again after our argument. Then I met you and I only needed one day to grow fond of you, but I never saw you again, not until I was an adult and you were a child who knew nothing about what would occur. I felt betrayed, betrayed and lonely."
His onyx eyes displayed all the desperation his face didn't show. Hermione wanted to ask him what other reasons he had had to treat her so badly, but she intuited that if he hadn't told her now, he wouldn't do it just because she insisted. Therefore, she limited to hold back tears and mutter she was sorry. She couldn't imagine how lonely he had felt. At least, she had friends. He had been entirely alone.
Black eyes met brown, and for a few minutes, they said nothing else. Being there, together after so long, was enough. The half-playful half-mocking comment that escaped Severus's mouth was that last thing Hermione would have ever guessed she would hear after the long pause.
"You are still particularly dangerous when you are angry, Miss Granger. Your minions with wings and beak are more loyal than hufflepuffs."
She twigged. It was his way to say that he didn't blame her anymore and that he was sorry without saying the actual words. Of course. That would have been mortifying for him. She laughed through her tears. It was the first time he saw young Severus, her Severus, hidden inside the snarky Professor ever since she came back from the Room of Requirement. Her friend was alive.
"Mr. Weasley will regret it. His detention will be the longest in Hogwarts's History. I guarantee you."
Hermione smiled and had a déjà-vu: the corner of his mouth twitched up and formed something similar to an authentic grin, the same way he did two years ago in that room.
"I thought we weren't friends."
He frowned.
"I am acting like your Professor. Students must not kiss in public. Mr. Weasley has it coming."
Somebody else would have bought his half-truth, but Hermoine could tell by the way his eyes glistened that he still cherished her, that he would punish Ron because she had been his friend when he most needed it, even if technically, their friendship had only lasted one day.
"Do you think that we would have been friends in another world? Something more, even?"
Why had she asked him that in the first place? She had no idea, but the words had already rolled off her tongue, and she couldn't take back her words once they were pronounced. She blushed. She had ruined the chance of being in good terms with him.
Severus surprised her by standing up and murmuring, "Don't you ever believe you aren't pretty enough to catch somebody's attention, Miss Granger. That is an utter lie."
He left as fast as he had arrived, leaving a happier Hermione behind.
The Battle of Hogwarts.
Hermione, Harry and Ron had heard Nagini attacking Severus. When they entered the Shrieking Shack, Hermione couldn't stifle a scream of horror. Ron held her back while Severus and Harry talked, but at the last moment, he glanced up at her suppliant. Hermione broke free from Ron and kneeled next to the fallen wizard.
"Professor Snape," she croaked amid weeps.
"Severus… Call me Severus."
She knew what that meant. The tears didn't stop coming to her eyes, and despite the bitter situation, she managed to give him a smile.
"Friends?"
"Always," he breathed with some difficulty.
And his eyes stopped shining. His heart stopped beating.
2074 – Hogwarts Express
Brown eyes glimmered, as brown as her straight hair, pulled in a ponytail that bounced with her steps. The eleven-year-old girl couldn't wait to start her magical studies. Half-way through the wagon train, her worry increased. The train was full. She kept looking for an empty place in vain.
The last compartment. Her last chance. She gulped and peered in through the window, praying it wasn't full. Only a boy about her age was there, reading a muggle book. She sighed in relief and opened the door.
"Hello! May I stay here with you? The other compartments are full…"
The hooked-nosed boy looked up at her suspiciously with his big dark grey eyes, almost black. It took him a minute to nod and continued reading his book. The girl pouted. She had expected to make friends in the train, or at the very least, talk to someone. He shifted in his seat and she was able to read the title of his book. She grinned.
"Sherlock Holmes! A classic! Arthur Conan Coyle is a genius, don't you think? I love reading his novels, mainly in paper books! Nobody read paper books in my primary school, but I prefer them. I love turning the pages and the smell and-"
"Is rambling a habit of yours?" he cut her off.
Her cheeks flushed. She had looked anything but timid earlier, yet now she was lowering her head.
"Yes… I don't even notice when I am rambling… Sorry. I'll let you read."
His eyes narrowed, studying her. Then, his lips curled in a way that the girl wouldn't describe as a smile, but it was quite close to it. Why did she have a sense of déjà-vu?
"No. It's fine. You are the first person I know that enjoys Sherlock Holmes… What was the first novel you read about him?"
This was the beginning of a conversation, the beginning of a friendship that would turn into something more eventually.
There are souls that always find each other throughout time, soul friends, soulmates. Names and bodies may change. Souls don't. They remain the same. And a lioness soul and a snake soul were destined to find each other life after life, no matter in form of teacher-student, friends or lovers.
THE END
A/N: So this is it. My first Snamione one-shot. I hope you enjoyed reading it. I apologize if there were grammar or spelling mistakes. I did my best.
Have a nice day!