TITLE: Can't See The Darkness Through The Rain
AUTHOR: Silverflame4761
PARING: SS/HG
RATING: R
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
SUMMARY: When Minerva McGonagall dies, Snape becomes Headmaster of Hogwarts, leaving the position of Potions professor open. He convinces Hermione to fill in as a substitute. But Hermione knows that going back means being trapped by her own yearnings for the man who had once protected and dominated her- for the powerful and unbending wizard who is Severus Snape.
NOTES: Special thanks to Patricia Wilson for her invaluable help.
***
"Telephone call for you, Miss Granger!"
The voice came clearly to Hermione as she crossed the foyer of the Potter Building and she raised a hand in acknowledgement, hurrying on and into the elevator.
"Hold it, will you? I'll take it as soon as I reach my office."
"Right, Miss Granger. It's an overseas call."
Hermione nodded pleasantly as the elevator doors swished closed and the silent speed lifted her to her third-floor office. Overseas. That would be the call from France. She had been almost certain that she had got the Paris contract and they had promised to ring today if the news was good. Harry Potter was going to have to eat his hat after all. She grinned to herself, looking forward to the next few minutes, cherishing the moment when she could take the elevator back down and walk into his office in a casual manner with the news.
Her floor reached, she walked quickly along to her office, her long legs closing the gap between the elevator and her own office door with easy, swinging steps, her slender height perfectly balanced. The sheet of thick, brown hair cut in a flirty layered style swung too as she walked and there was nothing but pleasure on her flawlessly beautiful face. The Paris contract! The biggest thing she had pulled off yet!
"All right, Sandra. I've arrived."
"Yes, Miss Granger. Your call from England, Miss Granger." The telephonist slid into her professional voice as the line was connected, but Hermione froze into icy stillness.
"Miss Granger?" She didn't answer. She couldn't answer. She had been expecting to hear a French voice, her mind attuned to it, and everything inside her chilled at the deep voice, the softly spoken British sound of her name. For one blinding second, the room dimmed, fading to almost nothing.
"Miss Granger!" No question now, a command, his natural attitude to life. "I will assume that you are there, but if you do not intend to reply, have the courtesy to replace the receiver. I do not have all the time in the world to listen to empty miles of space!"
Hermione sank into her seat, her mouth dry. Seconds before, she had been smiling, her world filled with promise, and now she was shaking, stricken, unable to breathe as the voice of Severus Snape struck out at her from half- way across the world.
"I'm here." She managed it with no stammers, no hesitation, no sign of fear. "I was expecting a call from Paris; the change of direction and language stunned me for a second. I had to re-orient my mind from business."
"I am well aware of your importance in the Muggle world of the Potter Press," he said coldly. "I am phoning you because it is necessary. Your call from Paris will have to wait."
Her hand gripped the receiver so hard that she doubted her ability to relax her fingers. Why didn't she simply put the phone down? Why did she sit here with her heart hammering in a panic as she listened to the sound of a voice she had thought never to hear again? His arrogance came across the miles and she could imagine his face, cold, aristocratic, and unbending, not traditionally handsome but striking all the same. She could see again the dark, dark eyes that could flash with fire and narrow to glittering points of anger. She could see the tall, lean frame leaning indolently against the huge desk in his dungeons and it took every bit of her considerable spirit to get a grip on her feelings, to realize that she was no longer a student at Hogwarts, and hadn't been for years.
"Then as you are paying for this expensive and so far pointless call, may I suggest that you proceed with it?" she said coolly. "My call from Paris will no doubt be received when this line is clear, therefore, to save you expense and me irritation, please come to the point of your call."
There was a silence and she could imagine his raised eyebrows. He had always done that when she had answered back in class, not that she had answered back very often, but when her nerve had been up to it and she had defended herself, his attitude had always been one of aloof surprise, raised black brows, a wryly amused twist to his lips. Hatred shot through her like a searing flame and she forestalled his reply.
"I am waiting! I also do not have all the time in the world to listen to empty miles of space, Professor Snape!"
"My God!" he snapped in an unexpected burst of temper. "Has your lengthy stay with the American Muggles robbed you of any little courtesy you had when you were a student? I am your professor!"
"You are nothing," Hermione answered flatly, her voice empty of emotion. "You are a man who is ringing me from England, criticizing me for my conduct. Your right to do that ended long ago when I graduated from Hogwarts. I am on my own, removed from the wizarding world, and you no longer have any right to call me to order. Unless you come to the substance of this call, I shall replace the receiver as you first suggested. I am expecting an important call and I am at work. I do not have time to conduct a transatlantic battle, nor do I have the interest."
She stopped speaking and her eyes caught sight of her reflection in the facing mirror. Her face was white and strained, her eyes haunted, and she could hear the sound of her own heart.
"Hermione." He paused and she strained her ears to ascertain if she had heard him correctly. His voice had softened, dropped to a low murmur as she remembered it could do. "Hermione- you must come home."
"I am home! I live here, work here. Everything that I."
"Miss Granger!" The sharp command cut into her heated reply, leaving her no further chance to talk. "There has been an accident. One of Hagrid's monsters escaped and attacked Minerva McGonagall. For the love of God, do not say anything more! Do not continue with your fight now from so far away, saying words that you will later regret." He paused and she was so stunned that she could not think of any words at all. The news would just not sink in. "Come home, Hermione. Now!"
"Minerva! Where is she? How is she? Professor!"
The poignant cry was completely out of the past. The office and her importance, the security of her life in Muggle America, faded away, and she was back in the land where she had spent her adolescent years. She was calling his name with the same despairing urgency.
"She is dead. There is no other way to tell you except this way. One sharp blow is better than an endless sawing away at the heart."
There was just the tiniest hint of compassion in the deep, proud voice, but Hermione barely heard it. She could see the stern but kind face of Professor McGonagall, her once-teacher, one of her closest friends, and her magical mentor. The realization that she would never see her in the flesh again hit Hermione like a hammer blow.
"You are all right?" Snape's voice pulled her back in time and she took a deep steadying breath, closing her eyes for a minute but failing to block out the memories.
"Yes, I'm all right. I'll come at once. When is the funeral?"
"The funeral was this morning."
She gasped aloud at the even statement, color from shock and disbelief flooding her face.
"You- you dare to tell me that you held a funeral for Minerva- my mentor- and I was not informed?"
"In the first place," he interrupted angrily, "I had no address; finding you has not been easy. In the second place, I would not have told you even if I had been able to discover your whereabouts in time. I did not want you at the funeral!"
Cold grief flooded her. Even now, when this tragedy had struck both their lives, he did not want her there.
"Then there is no point in my coming now," she said unevenly.
"I thought that you would perhaps want to see the place where she is buried," he informed her quietly. "But even that is not the point of my call. The dead are dead, and it is the living that should concern us both. Minerva has been Headmistress since Albus died, or had you forgotten?"
She hadn't. How could she ever forget brave, wise Professor Dumbledore, who had died in the final fight against Voldemort? For the first time, tears flooded her eyes and she was unable to reply. Of course, Snape took her silence to be guilt and continued accordingly.
"Now that you have been reminded," he rasped, "let me also remind you that I am the Deputy Headmaster. As such, I will take over the running of the school, but that will leave the students without a Potions professor. It will take a long time to find a replacement and until then, we need a temporary substitute. You are the best candidate for that; you are the only one we know of who has a thorough grasp of Potions. It is your duty to return to Hogwarts. It is your duty to come home. I am aware that you dislike me for being what I am, but our mutual differences must be put aside. The students need you. The school needs you."
"I'll come." She almost whispered the words, but apparently he heard her, because she also heard him a s his breath left him in an audible sigh. No wonder he wanted her there; he would never trust anyone with his Potions lab unless he knew they were completely capable. She was too stunned by the news and by her words with Snape to have the energy to say more than, "I'll get my affairs in order and be out on the first available flight."
"There is a Portkey already waiting for you at the American Ministry of Magic office. It has no specific date or time. Make your arrangements with them and then owl me. Remember, though, that your duty lies here and not with some glossy Muggle magazine chain. The students are waiting for you. I will be waiting, too, Hermione."
It sounded like a threat, but she was quite used to that, and to the finality of his voice as he replaced the receiver at his end. It was only later that it dawned on her that he had called her "Hermione", and she knew that it was either a slip of the tongue or a sop to induce her to hurry. Severus Snape was not given to calling his old students by their first names, especially those who had been in Gryffindor House. He was cold all the way through, as cold as the snow on the Andes, as imposing and intimidating as the castle where he had spent most of his life. It was only her years away from him that gave Hermione the courage to face him again, that and the knowledge that the students needed her and were going without proper Potions lessons.
And Hermione had always hated lack of proper education in schools.
*** A/N: Did you like it? I would appreciate any and all feedback, whether negative or positive. Please let me know how you felt about this fic and I will continue accordingly.
AUTHOR: Silverflame4761
PARING: SS/HG
RATING: R
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
SUMMARY: When Minerva McGonagall dies, Snape becomes Headmaster of Hogwarts, leaving the position of Potions professor open. He convinces Hermione to fill in as a substitute. But Hermione knows that going back means being trapped by her own yearnings for the man who had once protected and dominated her- for the powerful and unbending wizard who is Severus Snape.
NOTES: Special thanks to Patricia Wilson for her invaluable help.
***
"Telephone call for you, Miss Granger!"
The voice came clearly to Hermione as she crossed the foyer of the Potter Building and she raised a hand in acknowledgement, hurrying on and into the elevator.
"Hold it, will you? I'll take it as soon as I reach my office."
"Right, Miss Granger. It's an overseas call."
Hermione nodded pleasantly as the elevator doors swished closed and the silent speed lifted her to her third-floor office. Overseas. That would be the call from France. She had been almost certain that she had got the Paris contract and they had promised to ring today if the news was good. Harry Potter was going to have to eat his hat after all. She grinned to herself, looking forward to the next few minutes, cherishing the moment when she could take the elevator back down and walk into his office in a casual manner with the news.
Her floor reached, she walked quickly along to her office, her long legs closing the gap between the elevator and her own office door with easy, swinging steps, her slender height perfectly balanced. The sheet of thick, brown hair cut in a flirty layered style swung too as she walked and there was nothing but pleasure on her flawlessly beautiful face. The Paris contract! The biggest thing she had pulled off yet!
"All right, Sandra. I've arrived."
"Yes, Miss Granger. Your call from England, Miss Granger." The telephonist slid into her professional voice as the line was connected, but Hermione froze into icy stillness.
"Miss Granger?" She didn't answer. She couldn't answer. She had been expecting to hear a French voice, her mind attuned to it, and everything inside her chilled at the deep voice, the softly spoken British sound of her name. For one blinding second, the room dimmed, fading to almost nothing.
"Miss Granger!" No question now, a command, his natural attitude to life. "I will assume that you are there, but if you do not intend to reply, have the courtesy to replace the receiver. I do not have all the time in the world to listen to empty miles of space!"
Hermione sank into her seat, her mouth dry. Seconds before, she had been smiling, her world filled with promise, and now she was shaking, stricken, unable to breathe as the voice of Severus Snape struck out at her from half- way across the world.
"I'm here." She managed it with no stammers, no hesitation, no sign of fear. "I was expecting a call from Paris; the change of direction and language stunned me for a second. I had to re-orient my mind from business."
"I am well aware of your importance in the Muggle world of the Potter Press," he said coldly. "I am phoning you because it is necessary. Your call from Paris will have to wait."
Her hand gripped the receiver so hard that she doubted her ability to relax her fingers. Why didn't she simply put the phone down? Why did she sit here with her heart hammering in a panic as she listened to the sound of a voice she had thought never to hear again? His arrogance came across the miles and she could imagine his face, cold, aristocratic, and unbending, not traditionally handsome but striking all the same. She could see again the dark, dark eyes that could flash with fire and narrow to glittering points of anger. She could see the tall, lean frame leaning indolently against the huge desk in his dungeons and it took every bit of her considerable spirit to get a grip on her feelings, to realize that she was no longer a student at Hogwarts, and hadn't been for years.
"Then as you are paying for this expensive and so far pointless call, may I suggest that you proceed with it?" she said coolly. "My call from Paris will no doubt be received when this line is clear, therefore, to save you expense and me irritation, please come to the point of your call."
There was a silence and she could imagine his raised eyebrows. He had always done that when she had answered back in class, not that she had answered back very often, but when her nerve had been up to it and she had defended herself, his attitude had always been one of aloof surprise, raised black brows, a wryly amused twist to his lips. Hatred shot through her like a searing flame and she forestalled his reply.
"I am waiting! I also do not have all the time in the world to listen to empty miles of space, Professor Snape!"
"My God!" he snapped in an unexpected burst of temper. "Has your lengthy stay with the American Muggles robbed you of any little courtesy you had when you were a student? I am your professor!"
"You are nothing," Hermione answered flatly, her voice empty of emotion. "You are a man who is ringing me from England, criticizing me for my conduct. Your right to do that ended long ago when I graduated from Hogwarts. I am on my own, removed from the wizarding world, and you no longer have any right to call me to order. Unless you come to the substance of this call, I shall replace the receiver as you first suggested. I am expecting an important call and I am at work. I do not have time to conduct a transatlantic battle, nor do I have the interest."
She stopped speaking and her eyes caught sight of her reflection in the facing mirror. Her face was white and strained, her eyes haunted, and she could hear the sound of her own heart.
"Hermione." He paused and she strained her ears to ascertain if she had heard him correctly. His voice had softened, dropped to a low murmur as she remembered it could do. "Hermione- you must come home."
"I am home! I live here, work here. Everything that I."
"Miss Granger!" The sharp command cut into her heated reply, leaving her no further chance to talk. "There has been an accident. One of Hagrid's monsters escaped and attacked Minerva McGonagall. For the love of God, do not say anything more! Do not continue with your fight now from so far away, saying words that you will later regret." He paused and she was so stunned that she could not think of any words at all. The news would just not sink in. "Come home, Hermione. Now!"
"Minerva! Where is she? How is she? Professor!"
The poignant cry was completely out of the past. The office and her importance, the security of her life in Muggle America, faded away, and she was back in the land where she had spent her adolescent years. She was calling his name with the same despairing urgency.
"She is dead. There is no other way to tell you except this way. One sharp blow is better than an endless sawing away at the heart."
There was just the tiniest hint of compassion in the deep, proud voice, but Hermione barely heard it. She could see the stern but kind face of Professor McGonagall, her once-teacher, one of her closest friends, and her magical mentor. The realization that she would never see her in the flesh again hit Hermione like a hammer blow.
"You are all right?" Snape's voice pulled her back in time and she took a deep steadying breath, closing her eyes for a minute but failing to block out the memories.
"Yes, I'm all right. I'll come at once. When is the funeral?"
"The funeral was this morning."
She gasped aloud at the even statement, color from shock and disbelief flooding her face.
"You- you dare to tell me that you held a funeral for Minerva- my mentor- and I was not informed?"
"In the first place," he interrupted angrily, "I had no address; finding you has not been easy. In the second place, I would not have told you even if I had been able to discover your whereabouts in time. I did not want you at the funeral!"
Cold grief flooded her. Even now, when this tragedy had struck both their lives, he did not want her there.
"Then there is no point in my coming now," she said unevenly.
"I thought that you would perhaps want to see the place where she is buried," he informed her quietly. "But even that is not the point of my call. The dead are dead, and it is the living that should concern us both. Minerva has been Headmistress since Albus died, or had you forgotten?"
She hadn't. How could she ever forget brave, wise Professor Dumbledore, who had died in the final fight against Voldemort? For the first time, tears flooded her eyes and she was unable to reply. Of course, Snape took her silence to be guilt and continued accordingly.
"Now that you have been reminded," he rasped, "let me also remind you that I am the Deputy Headmaster. As such, I will take over the running of the school, but that will leave the students without a Potions professor. It will take a long time to find a replacement and until then, we need a temporary substitute. You are the best candidate for that; you are the only one we know of who has a thorough grasp of Potions. It is your duty to return to Hogwarts. It is your duty to come home. I am aware that you dislike me for being what I am, but our mutual differences must be put aside. The students need you. The school needs you."
"I'll come." She almost whispered the words, but apparently he heard her, because she also heard him a s his breath left him in an audible sigh. No wonder he wanted her there; he would never trust anyone with his Potions lab unless he knew they were completely capable. She was too stunned by the news and by her words with Snape to have the energy to say more than, "I'll get my affairs in order and be out on the first available flight."
"There is a Portkey already waiting for you at the American Ministry of Magic office. It has no specific date or time. Make your arrangements with them and then owl me. Remember, though, that your duty lies here and not with some glossy Muggle magazine chain. The students are waiting for you. I will be waiting, too, Hermione."
It sounded like a threat, but she was quite used to that, and to the finality of his voice as he replaced the receiver at his end. It was only later that it dawned on her that he had called her "Hermione", and she knew that it was either a slip of the tongue or a sop to induce her to hurry. Severus Snape was not given to calling his old students by their first names, especially those who had been in Gryffindor House. He was cold all the way through, as cold as the snow on the Andes, as imposing and intimidating as the castle where he had spent most of his life. It was only her years away from him that gave Hermione the courage to face him again, that and the knowledge that the students needed her and were going without proper Potions lessons.
And Hermione had always hated lack of proper education in schools.
*** A/N: Did you like it? I would appreciate any and all feedback, whether negative or positive. Please let me know how you felt about this fic and I will continue accordingly.