My very first Severus Snape/Hermione Granger (I shall refer to it as Sevmione from now on... even thought it sounds odd.) fanfiction. I'm excited.
I must thank my lovely friend, who is Pintos on here, for introducing me to the fanfiction Vixen on here (written by SheriLovingLecter; first chapter here: .net/s/5202994/1/bVixen_b ), the world's best Snamione fanfic ever. If anyone knows any other good ones, please let me know!
And now onto the story.
A short summary: Hermione Granger is borderline insane because of everything that she has gone through in the past year, including the death of Ronald Weasley, and the disappearance of Harry Potter. One night Severus Snape stumbles upon Ms. Granger lying unconscious in an alley of London on his way home from a Death Eater meeting. Snape realizes the unstable condition (both mentally and physically) the future 7th Year is in and takes her to St. Mungo's. A bond begins to form between the two, and only time can tell if Hermione will be able to accept it and open up to the Potions Master.
Warnings: M for future chapters. It won't be anything extreme, but I just thought I'd warn you guys.
I'm going to say this once, right here at the very beginning of the very first chapter so I don't have to repeat it:
I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER AND/OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I AM MAKING ABSOLUTELY NO PROFIT OFF OF THIS STORY. IT IS MERELY HERE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. And to stop the plot bunny slowly gnawing away at my brain.
That is all.
And now to the first chapter!
It was a cold and rainy evening with menacing clouds hanging low over London; the wind howled through the rafters of each of the houses, and rain fell down from the sky like miniature bombs that impacted with the pavement and rooftops. If a normal person were to walk through the streets of London, they would be able to see windows upon windows lit up with warm light, families sitting behind those rain-streaked glass panes together in their living room watching television or in the dining room enjoying a warm meal. There was nothing out of the ordinary. At least not to the Muggle eye.
If a witch or a wizard were to be wandering the streets in the pouring rain, for whatever god forsaken reason, they would have noticed one house in particular standing out in a small side street that was invisible to the non-magical folk, the Muggles. Said house was peculiar in more ways than one. It was almost completely black and looked as if it would collapse if the wind blew any harder. The sides and rafters creaked ominously because of the heavy storm.
Those were not the only things that made the house stand out from the rest of the houses in the alley. All of the other houses had at least one well lit window, while the house in question was completely dark. If someone didn't know better, they would think it was completely deserted, left to crumble and wear away over time.
But that was not the case. The house was most definitely inhabited. The neighbors never saw the woman who supposedly lived in the black house in that small side street, and many of them began to doubt if it wasn't just a rumor that was going around. Surely if the person living inside that old house was who the rumors said she was, someone would have seen her? The neighbors had tried to catch a glimpse of the mysterious neighbor many times, and some even reported having seen the woman holding back one of the many black curtains that covered all of the windows, only to quickly pull it back into place when she felt eyes watching her, but no one could confirm the identity of said person. Truth be told, the rumors were true. The woman living, no hiding, in that house was none other than the brown-haired ex-best friend of the savior of the Wizarding World, Harry Potter. She was Hermione Granger.
Now, my dear readers, if you are asking yourself why in the world Ms. Granger would be hiding from the entire world in his house, the house she had inherited from Mr. Potter, who had inherited it from his godfather, Sirius Black when he died, it is quite easy to understand why you would wonder that. You see, the predicament the young woman found herself in was very private and weighed the poor girl down. She suffered; not only because of one, simple reason or event, but because of a multitude of things that had transpired over the seventeen years of her life. But you shall find out when and why and all the other questions you are surely asking in your pretty little head soon enough. Let's get back to the story.
It was a rainy day in London, and in that particularly dreary looking house where not a single light was burning from either a candle or an electric light bulb, Hermione Granger was sat in the far corner of the living room staring off into space. No one would have seen her unless they had intently stared into the heavy shadows that concealed her from view. Even if anyone had seen her, they probably wouldn't have recognized her; over the many months she had spent locked up in her own home, she hadn't bothered to worry about her appearance. Her long, brown hair was as messy and as frizzy as ever, hanging all the way down her back. She definitely looked much, much older than the seventeen year old she was. She had dark bags under her eyes which always seemed to be glazed over, bloodshot and staring at something in another, far away dimension. If one were able to look into her mind and read her thoughts, they would have found nothing.
Hermione Granger had perfected the art of not thinking, as ironic as that may seem. She had always been the brightest person anyone had ever known; the girl had been rather proud of her reputation as 'the Know-It-All'.
Minutes (or was it hours?) later, a sharp tapping on the window alerted Hermione of her daily owl. It had become natural for her to sit in the corner of the living room staring into nothings, surrounded by silence and cobwebs, until the owl would come tapping on her window, delivering a letter everyday, always written by the same person.
Like a robot, Hermione stiffly stood up, ignoring the pain and stiffness in her muscles as she slowly treaded over to the window. With expert movements Hermione pulled the curtain back, opened the window, dragged the owl inside, shut the window, and pulled the curtain back into place all within the time span of less than a second. She was aware of the curiosity the neighbors openly showed towards her, though of course they didn't know it was her.
The girl's mind started working slowly, telling her that if the neighbors did happen to find out it was Hermione Granger living in the house of Sirius Black, they would surely form an angry mob, pitchforks, torches, and all, and kill her. She definitely deserved it, she thought with a pang of heartache as guilt washed over her, threatening to drown her. Quickly taking the letter from the owl, she put the owl back outside quickly and crumbled to the floor, trying to control the sobs wracking through her body, threatening to tear down the wall she had built in defense of what had happened…
He's gone… he's dead. All because of me, if I hadn't- She cut herself off right there. There was no way in Hell she would allow those painful memories that ached to get out of the cage Hermione had them locked away in in her mind to overtake her and drive her completely insane. She was beginning to doubt she could even be considered moderately sane.
Shaking her head, she suddenly got up, strode over to the other end of the room and dropped the unopened letter onto the pile of other unopened letters that she had started several months ago and was now a very big heap in the otherwise empty room; all the letters were from the same owl, the same author. She turned to stride into the kitchen. She needed a distraction, even if that distraction was trying to find something different to eat, that wasn't the same thing she'd been eating for months on end, though she knew from failed attempts that it was a lost cause.
Half an hour later Hermione Granger sat at the kitchen table, drinking tap water and eating canned kidney beans with a side of stale crackers. She hated to admit it, but she had lost a lot of weight over the past eight months, living off of food that could survive a nuclear holocaust, including but not limited to Twinkies and a wide variety of canned foods.
Hermione sighed. She was lonely. It had been eight months since she had come into contact with another human being. After eight months of sitting on the floor in the living room everyday, most of those days spent in a half-daze similar to a coma, she was sure she wouldn't know how to act in society if she ever decided to venture outside of the walls of her house again. The youth was absolutely certain that if she should muster up the strength to walk out into the street, she would be hexed and killed on the spot.
Maybe being killed wouldn't be so bad? Hermione thought, eyes stinging with tears that wouldn't come. A few seconds after she buried her head in her hands with guilt. Life was a precious thing, and she shouldn't just throw it away. There were so many people who had died who had expected to grow old with their beloved by their side. But no, life was not fair. Life was merciless, cruel.
Most of all, life had robbed her of everything she had held dear, her dignity and reputation included. There was no way she could ever return to the life she had once lead. She could never return to the world of magic she had come to love, because-
Hermione growled mentally, scaring the thoughts and memories threatening to escape back into their respective cages. She suddenly felt surrounded. The walls of the kitchen were closing in on her. She needed to get out.
Scrambling out of the room, she ran down the hall, not realizing where she was running to until she nearly collided with the closed door at the end of the hall. She gulped, glancing over her back as if she was about to be caught doing something utterly unforgiveable. Hermione reached one of her hands up to the doorknob, before quickly retracting it and bolting away, terrified. She ran until she reached the safe sanctuary of her little corner on the floor in the living room. She curled into a ball and wept the hardest she had wept in several days.
GO AWAY! She shrieked at her feelings. She hated the guilt. She hated the pain, the loss, the heartache, the emptiness and lonliness.
"Go away," she whispered out loud brokenly.
Merlin, just let me die, Hermione lost is and wept harder. Please, let me die.
A sudden noise at the front door caused her to freeze. The sudden sound of a quiet but forced entry made her heart stop. As a single pair of footsteps began to sneak down the hall, pausing outside of the living room, Hermione was certain that her plea had been heard.
The only thought that crossed her mind as a sudden flash of lightning from the storm outside gave Hermione a perfect view of the intruder's silhouette, making the terrified girl hold her breath was: Oh Merlin, I don't want to die.
I'd love to know what you think! If you like it, please let me know with a review so I know if I should post & write some more! :)
