Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, I own none of these characters. I just like playing in the world.
Hermione was tired. She was tired of her tedious classes. She was tired of the tension between everyone. She was tired of the war. And she was tired of having to act younger than she really was. The guilt was starting to wear on her, as it had for so long. But it being her sixteenth birthday, it was nearly unbearable. In fact, it almost made her grateful for her detention with Snape.
She thought it was ridiculous that he even gave her detention. Honestly, she'd prevented a cauldron from melting. Hermione had been quietly coaching Neville for years, she mused, but she didn't care. She was cranky from having to exert her magic all day after her bracelet had been destroyed in the nearly disastrous potions incident. Her glamour was typically built into her jewelry, but she hadn't had a chance to reapply it to anything. Especially since she was wanting to experiment with more charms.
At least she had the afternoon blessedly free, given that Professor Binns never noticed if she wanted to skip class and Hagrid was on a long weekend to secure another creature for class. Hermione decided to luxuriate in her dorm room while no one else was around, taking out her notebook and tapping on the front page. More pages than the book should have held flipped until coming to a rest on the specified page, and Hermione hummed an approval note.
"Yes, I think that will do," she muttered to herself, and began scribbling in the notebook and occasionally running some numbers in the air with her wand. She didn't have the time to weave the spells together that night, but given that the next day was the weekend, she would be able to complete her new charm bracelet soon. She closed her notebook and tucked it into her bag before leaving for dinner.
The young woman reached the dungeons after a quick meal, brushing off her friends' concerns about her spending her birthday in detention. Honestly, she was glad to be out of their range of concern for the moment. Hermione knocked on the door to the potions classroom and waited a few beats for a response, but none came. She tried again, and again no sound came back. She sighed to herself before steeling her resolve for patience and opened the door anyway.
Snape was sitting inside, marking papers at his desk. She swallowed her frustration and approached his desk. He continued marking without looking up.
"What is it, Miss Granger?" he drawled, and she almost faltered. He clearly had told her to come for detention that evening. She pulled in a deep breath, causing him to look at her with amused eyes.
"I'm here for my detention, sir," she said, trying to keep her annoyance out of her voice. By his brow raising, she failed.
"Obviously. There is a station set up for you to prepare ingredients for me. You ungrateful brats have used up nearly all my stores of beetle wings and eyes. You'll take care not to damage a single one when you collect them," he said, and she looked back into the darkest corner of the room, to see an unobvious station set up. "You will leave your wand here and turn off your little glamour charm. No one here cares about you trying to doll yourself up."
At that last instruction, Hermione froze.
"You can tell I'm wearing a charm?" she asked, and he rolled his eyes.
"I can feel the magic on you, child. At least you don't look like a tart like some of your peers. Nonetheless, off with it. The magic residue can affect the potency," he clarified, and Hermione hesitated.
"May I speak with you in your office, sir? I… am reluctant to remove the charm without being able to speak privately about it," he said, cheeks turning red and Snape gave her a look of pure annoyance.
"I care not about any acne breakouts or whatever vanity you are trying to preserve. Off with it, or I will," he warned, and she sighed, setting wards over the classroom instead and locking the door. Snape stood, furious, until she removed the charm.
Hermione Granger changed before him. She became a couple of inches taller, her eyes were sharper but more tired. There were bags under her dark brown eyes, and the last of the baby fat had left her. She had aged in a moment, but the annoyance on her face was just the same. A long, tense moment of silence passed with Snape staring at her in surprise, trying to catalogue all the subtle changes. It was not adding up in his mind. The girl was sixteen, but looked to be an adult. He finally met her eyes again.
"Explain yourself," he demanded. Hermione nodded, and took a seat at a nearby desk.
"You may want to sit, sir. It's a long story," she started before taking a deep breath and diving in. "In my third year, I was given a time turner to be able to take all classes available. Professor McGonagall said it was because of my potential, but I know it was really because I'm a book crazy swot, so don't bother insulting me over that. I began living essentially double days, due to my workload. When Sirius Black escaped prison, I took a bit of extra time to start researching what happened in the betrayal of Harry's parents, according to the Prophet and what sort of investigation had been done. Did you know that there was actually no evidence outside of Pettigrew's finger? Well, it was starting to not add up. I wondered what other inconsistencies there were.
"I found many. The end of the year, when Sirius escaped as did Pettigrew, I increased my research into the first war. Of course, after I attempted to go back and prevent Pettigrew from escaping. My stunner failed. I… I had to accept that that was a fixed point, as much as I wanted to prevent it. When Cedric died, I…." she explained, but trailed off with teary eyes. She took a steadying breath and began again.
"When he died, I resolved to prevent as many deaths as I could. I began giving myself extra training, physically. But I started to read even more. A surprise, I'm sure. I wanted to look into creating spells, I did more research into runes and their meanings, spells in other languages, things like that. I developed my glamour charm and put it on a bracelet. It broke today, when some potion landed on it. It's tied to showing a specific age and health level. It is draining without having an anchor, but I haven't had a chance to create a new one yet," she finished.
It was a lot to process. Initially Snape was furious. Then, curious. Then back to anger. By the end, he just felt exhausted. All problems ended up landing on his shoulders it seemed. He rubbed his tired eyes and leaned against his desk.
"I am going to ask you questions and I expect honest answers. I fear you left out quite a few details, Miss Granger," he warned, and she nodded.
"First, Miss Granger, is why were you not made to give back the Time Turner at the end of the year?" he asked, and she went red as she did when confronted by her rule breaking.
"I was meant to destroy it. I lied and told Professor McGonagall that I had, but I kept it," she said reluctantly, and he closed his eyes. Of course the Gryffindor head of house trusted her prized student so wholly.
"Foolish. Second, how have you aged as much as you have?" he asked, and she shifted in her chair.
"Over the summer, I used it. It does not register as using magic for the Underage Magic act. I took summer classes at university in secret. I did not want my parents to know why I was becoming so desperate to know as much as I could, nor did I want them to not be able to spend time with me, I know it's limited," she explained. A sentimental answer as ever, and he did not press on it.
"Third. Who knows about this?" he asked, and she shook her head.
"No one, sir. I wasn't about to try to advertise my misuse of a magic item," she sniffed. He scowled.
"You will tell me these discrepancies you spoke of," he demanded, and she reached for her bag and rummaged around to find a plain notebook. She hesitated before handing it to him.
"Can I trust you, sir?" she asked, and he stared at her, unamused. However, she appeared quite serious.
"I am your professor, Miss Granger," he reminded her with some weariness.
"You're also a spy," she countered, and it was his turn to freeze and be caught off guard. He looked at his student with new eyes, finding that to have been the bravest, if not most foolish, thing she had ever said to him.
"Whatever gave you that idea, insolent child?" he asked in a dark tone. He stalked over to where she stood with her notebook clasped tightly to her chest. He loomed over her still quite short form, a sneer on his face. She stared up at him with a healthy amount of fear, but narrowed her eyes.
"You're more insulting when you're caught off guard, you know. I've seen you leaving the castle and coming back at odd hours. I've seen you covered in blood, one night-" she said quickly but his hand clamped over her mouth and he hissed. Her eyes widened and he felt her tremble beneath his hand and he fought the revulsion he had for himself.
"Stop. Speaking. Now," he bit out, and dragged her into his office and tapped a pattern on his bookcase, revealing a door to his private quarters. Once in there, he threw her into a chair, ignoring her sharp yelp of pain from the rough treatment, and heavily warded his room and fireplace. He advanced on her again, blood boiling at her sheer gall.
"Tell me what you know and who you've told," he demanded with a quiet but fearsome voice. Hermione swallowed the lump of fear in her throat. She shook her head, holding her notebook even tighter.
"I-I haven't told anyone, sir, I promise! It wasn't as if I really went snooping- I was just trying to keep a tab on professors so I could move around at night without being caught. Sometimes, I go out on the grounds to just get some air. I saw you- but I also saw you go directly to the Headmaster's office. You looked hurt, sir. I wanted to help but I know it wouldn't be my place and you would probably kill me before anything-" she started rambling until he interrupted her.
"Legilimens!" he yelled, invading her mind to look for any sign of dishonesty. To his surprise, he was greeted by a strong wall and promptly booted out. Hermione now looked angry over scared and stood up from her chair, getting into Snape's face with a wagging finger.
"How dare you try to just invade my mind like that! I have been nothing but honest with you- despite knowing of your other activities, and you treat me like that? You have no right to go digging in my brain! If anyone should be trying legilimency here, it should be me trying to check your motivations!" she ranted, poking his chest just the way she would with Harry or Ron when they messed up. He grabbed the offending finger and glared heavily at her.
"Do not presume to assault my person, Miss Granger," he hissed, and she scoffed.
"Strong words, Professor Snape. Hypocritically strong," she rebuffed, and he at least had the decency to avert his eyes shamefully. Hermione was still breathing heavily with her own anger, wild hair giving off sparks. He noted the sight for future reference.
"I suppose you are correct… However I cannot be sure of your truthfulness. You lied to your favorite professor, to your friends, and your parents. You lie to all of us on a daily basis with your very appearance. How am I to trust that you are telling the truth to me, someone you distrust, so openly?" he asked, figuring he had caught her in her own hypocrisy. To his surprise, instead of looking ashamed at being caught lying again or getting mad at questioning her, she just looked resigned and as tired as he felt.
"I didn't have a choice to tell you, really. You would have taken off my glamour. And… and I think I just really wanted someone else to know," she admitted quietly. Snape did not have a good response for that. He knew that feeling well, the longing to finally be honest and open but knowing he never could be. It was not only dangerous for himself, but for anyone he told. For a long moment, they just looked at the fire, not sure where to go from there. Hermione was, unsurprisingly, the first to break.
"Sir? I would like to make a proposition," she ventured, and he gave her a harsh look that she did not shy from.
"I'll tell you everything I know. I'll let you see my notes, the connections I've drawn, my observations. I took a lot of psychology classes, I've been picking up on people's little habits. I think you could really benefit from it," she offered. He eyed her warily.
"What would you ask in return?" he asked. She was offering him a great boon. The outside perspective of someone who was not involved in anything could provide an interesting insight, and her psychological notes could be beneficial. She shrugged.
"I just want the chance to be fully honest with someone. You don't have to tell me anything. I won't ask you to explain yourself, or tell me anything more than you want to. I just… I just want to be free to be myself for a short while," she explained. It was a simple request, innocent in nature, and Snape almost shuddered in response at the vulnerability presented to him. He was not allowed vulnerability, and here she was being so open about her own. He felt vile.
"I can… consider it," he finally ceded, and felt revulsion at her open display of relief at his proclamation. People should not be relieved to spend time with him. "I will let you know when I would be available for such a meeting."
He could practically see the lightbulb go off over her head. Really, for a girl who had built such a shield to hide her thoughts, she wore herself so openly.
"May I make a suggestion, sir? You mentioned earlier that our classes go through your potion stores at a fast pace. Perhaps I could help you under guise of a potential potions apprenticeship later on. I imagine Professor McGonagall would be pleased that you would consider me worthy of such a thing, and you might be able to sell it to, er, You-Know-Who as using a-a muggleborn for labor, with no intention of ever letting me truly having an apprenticeship," she suggested. He narrowed his eyes at her. For a moment, he thought she may have made a good Slytherin. If only she could keep her damned hope off her face.
"...Perhaps indeed. As I said, it shall be considered. I believe this has been quite eventful enough of a night, however. I would advise you make your way to your dorm without fail. I will contact you regarding this… proposition soon," he told her in a clear dismissal. The daft girl actually beamed at him before leaving his quarters. He had been so focused on his anger and, admittedly, fear at being discovered as a spy that he had entirely forgotten he had dragged her into his chambers. A deep shame overwhelmed him at getting so worked up that he could act with such impropriety.
He resolved not to let his emotions get the better of him again.