Title: Wings of a Father
Rating: T
Pairing: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Disclaimer: If me and JK were best buds, I'm sure she would let me borrow her characters and use them to my own benefit, but since that relationship exists only in my head, I must give her all the credit.
A/N: This is my 'third' time posting MY FIRST story because I keep screwing up, so please appreciate it.
Chapter One: Angel on my Doorstep
Start of term always made everything seem more exciting, more surreal-more magical. After six years of repeating the same activities, one would think that it would just mark the beginning of another long school year. However, this year wasn't like the others. It was the year of war. For this year, it was inevitable.
"What misfortunes will this year bring?" Hermione wondered as she stared at her breakfast. It had been hard to abandon the hunt for horcruxes that dominated their entire summer and return to the memories that still haunted her dreams; visions of a dead headmaster taunted her at night and made sleep hard to come by.
With Dumbledore gone, Harry's determination to find and destroy the remaining horcruxes only intensified. He seemed to transform into an adult overnight, leaving behind the trouble-making boy of his past.
In the end, Hermione convinced Harry that going back to Hogwarts was the wisest decision. "You could learn something that will come in handy in the battle!" she kept telling him. Rather than listen to her tell him off for the hundredth time, he begrudgingly gave in.
She looked up at the head table to the spot her Transfiguration teacher now occupied. It would be difficult to get used to the fact that Albus Dumbledore was no longer the headmaster, he was no longer their protector, he was no longer around to save them. We would definitely have been killed by now if not for him, or worse, kicked out of school. She bit back a chuckle; memories of a similar thought from her first year crossed her mind. We were so young..
She scanned down the length of the table and let her eyes rest on her old Potions professor. Not much had changed in his appearance since their last year, though he looked more tired, like he had not slept in days. His head was bent down as he toyed with his food, a look of discomfort and unease pasted on his usually unreadable face.
His name had only be cleared for Dumbledore's murder a few days ago and it was clear the whole student body as well as the majority of his colleagues were not so quick as to forgive him-or forget his crime for that matter. She noticed the teachers surrounding him went out of their way to leave their seats so as not to be close to him. She almost felt pity for the man.
Without warning, he looked up and their eyes connected. A warm feeling spread throughout her body and she shivered despite it. His eyes bore into hers as though searching for something inside her. Regret flashed across his face before it was soon replaced with what Hermione could only call 'despair,' his emotions took the age from his face making him appear much younger. He finally broke eye-contact and returned his gaze to his plate, moving his fork back in forth in the figure of an eight.
No one, save the staff, knew the circumstances under which he was proven innocent. The students were just told that he was under orders, and he 'did what he had to do', whatever that meant. They were all fairly certain he would not return this year regardless of his proven innocence; another year of dreams that did not come true.
It was rumored, however, that McGonagall threatened to sit on his doorstep and sing him love songs for all his neighbors to witness if he didn't come back to teach. After hearing her do a demo, he swiftly surrendered. No one blamed him.
"Hermione?" Harry said, questioning her unusual silence.
"Wha-?" Hermione mumbled tearing her eyes away from Snape. "Sorry, what did you say?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all. So what class do we get to start off the year with?" Harry asked poking Ron hard with his fork to wake him up.
"OI, What the hell was that for?" Ron asked, clinging to his forearm as though it were about to fall off.
Harry rolled his eyes and smiled, glancing over at Hermione. "I just thought that one bath today was enough for you, but by all means, if your slobber has some remarkable property that does wonders for your skin, please proceed."
Ron wiped off his face with the back of his hand, wiped his hand on Hermione, stuck his fork in what was left of Harry's breakfast, and stuffed it quickly into his mouth.
"Ronald!" Hermione squealed in protest and playfully hit him on the side of his face, causing the rest of Harry's breakfast to shoot out of his mouth at Neville who was sitting across the table.
The three of them looked at each other, then to Neville, and burst out laughing.
"Potions. We have potions." Hermione managed to get out between breaths. "Which we had better get to- like now." Harry and Ron grabbed their things and stood up, still laughing. Hermione mouthed a quick "Sorry" to Neville before picking her things up as well and the three of them hurried out of the Great Hall.
"Why is it always me?" Neville asked, cleaning his face before grabbing his things and following the trio in tow.
All the students who were able to receive high enough marks to take seventh year potions filed into the classroom taking the seats they had been accustomed to from the previous six years.
"Just something about this room makes me want to throw-up, like all over Malfoy" Ron stated at his took his seat on the left at the center table in the middle row.
Harry laughed, taking the seat on the right. "Maybe it's the smell of the room, or the smell of Malfoy, that makes me want to hurl as well."
Hermione ignored them and took up her seat in the middle. She took out her potions text and lazily skimmed through the pages; she had already read it twice.Her thoughts drifted back to Snape and their brief encounter across the Great Hall earlier. He looked so sad.
To everyone's amazement, including his own, Ron had managed to get the necessary marks needed to continue with potions, and only chose to do so because Snape no longer taught them.
To his horror, as well as the rest of the class, that is exactly who came bursting through the door, trademark black cloak billowing in his wake.
"Turn to Page 324. The ingredients are on the board, the directions in your book." He sat down behind his desk, rubbing his temples and reaching for a neatly organized stack of papers. The class just stared at him in awe, no one daring to move.
Suddenly a loud smack could be heard from the back of the classroom. The class turned around and Snape's eyes snapped up to Neville Longbottom. He held his potions text book in his right hand and had a large rectangular red imprint on his forehead. His eyes were big and his mouth hung open. Clearly, he had hit himself in the face with his textbook. Puzzled eyes stared at him and Snape quirked an eyebrow.
"I thought I might be dreaming-" Neville said seriously, as though any sane human being would have done the same thing. The class turned back to Snape, forgetting Neville and his moment of lunacy.
"Well, get back to work!" he snapped and buried his head in his arms, resting them on the table. It will happen today.
The class abruptly hurried about the room, collecting the appropriate ingredients, and settled into their routines.
"What on earth is he doing here? What happened to Slughorn? Who's supposed to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts now?" Ron whispered franticly, chopping whatever was laying in front of him, which just so happened to be Hermione's sleeve.
"I've no idea, but it would be better for you to brew now and ask questions later. I'm not too keen on making him angry today." Hermione answered, glancing at Harry as if to shut him up as well. She quickly took the knife from Ron and set it aside handing him a mortar and pestle. "Try these, and stay away from the sharp objects please."
Another loud bang was heard at the back of the classroom. Everyone's eyes immediately went to Neville, and Snape could be heard yelling, "LONGBOTTOM!" Neville lifted both hands in the air as if surrendering. He shook his head and pointed toward the door. All eyes darted to the corner of the room, where they landed on a tall, young man, leaning against the door with his arms crossed, masked by shadows. He stood up straight and took a step forward, into the light.
"Gabriel?" It was barely a whisper, but everyone knew it came from Snape. They looked between him and the stranger in the corner, anxiously waiting for whoever spoke next. It was Snape who broke the silence again, a little louder and more confident.
"Gabriel, what are you doing here?" Snape stood up, looking slightly nervous. He wiped his brow of the sweat that was starting to form.
"Since when does a son need a reason to visit his father?" The boy asked, smirking and walking towards the front of the classroom.
Hermione could see him clearly now. He was wearing black slacks along with a black muscle shirt. His body was lean and his arms were strong, as was his face. He had dark, ebony hair, which was tied neatly into a ponytail at the base of his neck, and an earring dangled from his right ear. His nose was small and thin and his eyes brown, the only traits that betrayed his father's. He looked about her age if not slightly older and was quite handsome.
She was roused from her thoughts by the excited whispers spreading throughout the classroom. 'His son?'
Snape's worried gaze searched the classroom and rested on Hermione. She had never seen him this vulnerable. He looked… scared. He slowly brought his eyes back up to his son's.
When he spoke again, his voice was shaking and his speech rushed.
"Gabriel, you cannot be here. I'm in the middle of a class. Wait in my chambers, and I will meet you once class is finished."
"Oh don't have cow, father. Aren't you the least bit happy to see me? I've been at school so long I almost forgot what you looked like! I'm little orphan Gabriel, who's daddy won't come to see him! And a fugitive as well! You know getting here isn't quite as easy as it was in my head.. perhaps that plan should have stayed there-" Gabriel bit his lip, contemplating what Hermione thought would be a very interesting story to here.
"Must you always be breaking the law? Is there anything you do that is legal?" Snape snapped, forgetting the class was watching their family quarrel with interest.
"Well.. maybe.. no, not really" he laughed. "You always said it was part of my charm-that and my dashing good looks. But honestly, it's been ages. Year round school in Switzerland.. gotta go! The people are way too happy, it's unnatural. Look at me, there is color in my face, they're trying to poison me with cheerfulness! I know what that would do to your reputation, to have a happy child, what would people say!?" He jumped up on Snape's desk and sat down, surveying the room.
"Take a break, I'll teach for you!" He screwed up his face into a scowl and crossed his arms again. He lowered his voice and said, "Turn to page blahdy blah, the ingredients are on the board, and do try not to blow yourselves up as I have no wish to clean up your limbs! Oh, lovely shirt Mister blonde-haired boy", he said pointing to Malfoy, "ten points to Slytherin!"
"You there, with the red hair, what color is your shirt? Oh, Gryffindor red, well we can't have that! One thousand points from Gryffindor and detention for a week! I hope you like cleaning toilets! Scrub, scrub, scrub!"
He laughed again and turned his head to the side, absently glancing at Hermione then returned his gaze to Snape, only to have his head snap back towards her, a look of confusion on his face.
Snape quickly grabbed Gabriel's shoulders and turned him so they were facing each other.
"To my chambers Gabriel, now." Snape breathed harshly. Gabriel, however, fought him off and jumped down, striding over to the trio's table, planting both his hands on the desk and staring intently into Hermione's eyes.
The class was taken aback from the dramatic change of events.
"I know those eyes, they are so familiar." She thought to herself, leaning back slightly in her seat. All eyes were on the boy, wondering what would come next.
Snape charged after him, grabbing at his shoulders, attempting to pull him away from the table. Gabriel held on, grasping the opposite edge, never releasing Hermione from his penetrating stare. His body was trembling from the effort and his eyes were watering. Snape was yelling his name, over and over again, pulling with all his might. Gabriel would not budge.
One word could be heard over Snape's savage cries, ringing through the air like a church bell on a quiet night; wrapped in emotions of astonishment, disbelief, uncertainty, but the strongest was of hope.
"Mum?"
So, this is my first attempt at a story. I will not lie to you, I am no writer, but i'll try my hardest to entertain you all. Thanks for taking the time to read this, I hope you enjoyed it somewhat, and please use that pretty little review button at the bottom of the page.