Last chance

AN.: Revised the first chapter. Again, a huge thanks to my lovely beta Elaine. I owe you! If you haven't read her story 'Lost and Found', yet, I highly recommend you to do so. It's truly brilliant.
Whatever, this is eventually supposed to be Snape/Hermione, so if you don't like that pairing, you should better leave.
I probably have stolen quite a bit from other fanfictions I read, though I promise it wasn't intentionally. I'd love to put your name here, so if you discover anything that's yours, contact me! I simply keep forgetting where my inspirations are from, due to the amount of fanfiction I'm reading at the moment. *g*

Disclaimer: Me not own. Me = stupid primate. JKR own. JKR = goddess.

**********

le prélude [= prelude; action or event that happens before another larger or more important one and forms an introduction to it]




There was light. Light and colors and soft sweet sounds tumbling onto her from everywhere. Happiness hung thick in the air - though you probably wouldn't use the term 'hang' for such a thing she mused - but it did not, as to expect, embrace her. Freckled face turning up in front of her, well-known voice asking her cheerily to dance, light frown passing over same face as she declined.

"Later Ron, I promise. I'm just not in the mood right now."

Gone again. For some reason, she suddenly felt as though she was going to suffocate; the colours and the voices of a good hundred young people, swirling into such turmoil, her mind couldn't process anymore. Silently, almost oblivious to her surroundings, she crept along the wall to get to the door then slipped outside as quietly as possible.

And ran.

The pressure on her lungs only seemed to intensify with every step she took, and for the first time in her life she felt completely aware of her own body - the way her bare feet touched the ground in those skimpy, high heeled sandalettes, the way her hands had cramped at some point into tight fists, her blood pounding in her ears...

As she managed to get to her senses again, she found herself standing at the lake.
In spite of the daily warmth at this time of the year, the nights still came with a chilly breeze, and she shivered slightly in her thin dress. The full moon had just dived behind a set of clouds, which were ghostly white against the night sky. It cast a strange, yet beautiful light across the landscape. At any other time she would have revelled in the pure, exquisite beauty of the Earth -- of nature, of its fine subtle paintings...

Tonight she only kneeled at the lake's shore, gazing into the dark depths hoping beyond reason they could offer her a solution for her predicament. However, she only saw her own reflection. Brown, curly hair hanging loosely down onto her shoulders, quite normal looking face which had once harboured a pair of enlarged front teeth, though not anymore. The pale moonlight made her skin seem almost transparent, unreal. Exactly how she felt at the moment. No, she decided, beautiful I'm not. Pretty maybe, but what she was missing was that 'inner glow' like Ron had once called it. "Every other girl's appearance just screams 'living', Hermione, it's true! Not that I don't like you, but honestly, sometimes you've got that far away look that makes people think you're in another world. Just try to get out on yourself a little more often..."
Which was exactly the point.

She didn't 'get out' because it wasn't her. No, she was Hermione Granger, bookworm, best student of the year and there were certainly things about her that none of her friends would ever understand. Like getting caught up in an arithmetic problem and desperately trying to find a solution until she got one. Or like looking at the burning fire, watching the flames eat away at the wood and drifting off into thoughts about her own existence...

At first she had tried to make them understand - tried to convey the importance and even more so, the fascination that studying held for her. Tried to communicate the knowledge that learning about things - especially things concerning magic - wasn't simply for school – it was an art in itself.

Of course she had failed.

Just with her friends, naturally. Her own attempt at showing the teachers how eager she was to know about magic, although she was a Muggle born, had succeeded gloriously. Just a few hours ago, Minerva McGonagall had proudly admitted to her that Hermione had even beat her NEWT's record.

But that didn't matter anymore, did it? Because no matter how high her levels were, she wasn't going to put them to any good use. The only thing she truly, dearly yearned for in her life - and she wasn't allowed to get it.

A tiny sob pushed itself up her throat and past her lips and all of a sudden her legs stopped supporting her. Slowly she sank onto the cold stone in front of the glittering water. Never mind her expensive dress was probably going to be a mess after sitting here. After all, she didn't care about the ball anyway.

The chilly coldness of the night air hugged her and she realized that even though some part of her desperately wanted to cry, her body wouldn't do it. The tears simply stopped dead, whenever they had managed to creep up her throat.
Stopped dead, like she had, in a way, because that was the point she had reached at the moment. Dead end.

"My my, not in the Great Hall to celebrate your triumph? Would have expected you to at least give us all a little speech about that Gryffindor community that made you what you are. Or, considered you weren't granted that inspiration, to sneak down to the lake with no less than dear Weasley's company..."

She started slightly as the well-known but not necessarily liked voice destroyed the small bubble of her own thoughts. Usually that voice made her back down in consideration - since she was well aware of the fact that any reply was probably unjustified and reason enough to take points of Gryffindor. Why, that had really become a habit over the last seven years. Ignore Snape's sarcastic comments to keep points. Though he'd probably find another excuse for taking them away.

This evening it didn't matter anymore. Nor did the feeling that she'd always fought so hard for his approval somehow more important to her than the acknowledgement by other teachers - because she had never got it.
Now his company was the last thing she had wished for. Why had he decided to come down here at all?

"Just leave me alone." Her voice, already tense, trembled from holding back her tears.

"So it's no celebration then. Pity." A long silence, so long that Hermione almost wondered if he'd sneaked away quietly. Since he had been a Death Eater, and probably a spy, too - she wasn't sure if she'd interpreted the signs the right way and there wasn't anybody to confirm her suspicions - this kind of talent was liable to be useful.

"Why?"

One simple word, and yet not simple enough, for it held so many answers she couldn't even start to think about them. More so, the way he spoke this one word surprised her and sent a strange thrill - of what she didn't know exactly - through her bones. For once, there was no malice in it at all, he simply sounded... curious... and there was even more to it...it was... compassionate? Worried? No way. She was already so deep down she'd started imagining things. Snape being worried and of her - the idea itself was ridiculous.

A light but very cold breeze blew over the lake, rippling the water and Hermione shook with the cold. She didn't mind for some reason, only stayed frozen in place, wishing for this moment to go on forever. Because then she wouldn't have to give up the beauty of the nature, nor would she have to face the hopelessness and chill of her future. And compared to this cold, the breeze was nothing, for it couldn't reach her bones...

All of a sudden she felt soft warm material come to rest on her skin, and, coming alert with a start, realized that Snape had draped his cloak over her.

"You're going to catch a nasty cold outside here." he commented. "And I am certainly not in the mood to brew a new supply of potions for Madame Pomfrey, when I have much better things to do."

He had come to kneel beside her, and as she turned her head wearily around she was surprised to see that his eyes didn't hold that usual feral glint that spoke of cruelty.

"Why are you doing this?" she managed to croak hoarsely.

"I asked you a question first." A more familiar twitch of his lip that was a half sneer. "And you'd better answer it, if you don't intend to freeze to death overnight."

*But I wanted to sit here in the cold without being disturbed!* her mind objected. Nevertheless, she only set her eyes back onto the water and shrugged helplessly.

"It's nothing you would understand, anyway." She half expected him to rebuke her for that, to take points off Gryffindor for insolent behaviour towards a teacher… but he only smiled slightly.

"Never judge people without knowing them. Give it a try."

The way he was obviously still trying to teach her something, set it off. Something inside Hermione snapped and she harshly turned about, facing him directly.

"So you want to know what this is about? All right. I have worked the last seven years of my life for nothing. Everything I've done, all the time, all the passion I invested into my work was senseless." She held a hand up, forestalling his inevitable reply.

"And don't you dare tell me my NEWT's are fabulous. I know it, at least a dozen people have told me tonight and I just couldn't listen to it anymore."

That sent his left eyebrow flying up. Although he was obviously interested in what she was talking about, he still seemed amused at her unusual display of emotions.

"So?"

"So - the day I leave Hogwarts I'll be leaving the wizarding world, too. My parents want me to get a 'real' job, I got accepted at London University, and that's enough for them. I did do my fair share of Muggle education during my holidays or simply out of interest, so that won't be a problem. Contrary to my wizarding career, which my parents 'do not wish to support, with all the danger that goes along with it'. And since none of the universities I had planned to attend, have such a thing as a scholarship, there's no way I will get in. I'm certainly not going to take money from my friends, and earning enough is quite impossible." She drew a deep breath.

"Are you happy now, knowing that you were right all along - that I simply don't have it in me, and will never become something, at all?!" Her voice had lost its force now she was done ranting, and she shivered beneath his cloak.

"You stupid little thing," she heard him chuckle slightly and was about to raise her eyes in defiance, when he took her chin in his fingers and tilted it slightly upwards so she would meet his eyes. "You had it in you all the time and you still do," one finger drew a soft line across her cheek and she shied away from the feelings this light touch evoked - she pushed them to the back of her mind without analyzing further what they meant. "You only weren't supposed to know it..." abruptly he stood and held his hand out to her. Reluctantly she let herself be pulled up, her own knees still wobbly.

"How wonderful it is to hear you admit what all the other teachers have known since my first year," she tried to put as much sarcasm into that remark as possible, which, given her momentary state wasn't much. "It still doesn't solve my problem."

"Oh, but it might. It just as well might." A slow smile crept across his lips, like she had never before seen with him.

And without any further comment he slipped his cloak off her shoulders and went back to the castle, leaving her in a mixture of anger, awe and confusion she couldn't really make up.