Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They belong to JKR. I make no money.
A/N: Thanks to my wonderful beta abeesbuzz!

Part Two

'I'll thank you not to use that tone of voice with me, Professor. I'm not a schoolgirl any more. In fact, unless I'm mistaken, and I don't think I am, I am older than you were when you …'

'When I died. Thank you for reminding me.'

The guilt Hermione had felt, once the euphoria of winning the battle had vanished, returned.

'We did come back here, you know. Afterwards. To see if there was anything we could do. But it was too late.'

'It would always have been too late, Miss Granger. Or should I say Mrs Weasley, now?'

oOo

'It's Granger again, actually.'

He didn't say anything, but drifted slightly upwards on the stairs.

Hermione was suddenly worried that he would disappear, leaving her little wiser than she was upon her arrival.

'Professor … Why are you here?'

He sighed and gestured for her to enter the room upstairs.

'I don't know why I should tell you anything. But if you are anything like the girl I remember, you will not leave me in peace until you've had your answers.'

He entered the room behind her, his translucent robes billowing magnificently, as if he'd spent years practicing the movement.

oOo

He was silent for a few minutes.

Hermione kept her eyes on him, clutching her wand with both hands, suppressing the urge to fidget or bite her lower lip. She didn't like the way Snape, even as a ghost, effortlessly managed to make her feel small and insignificant again.

Finally, his voice – sounding a little rusty from years of disuse, now that Hermione was composed enough to pay attention to its nuances – broke the silence. 'I don't really know. I suppose I had … unfinished business. I didn't know if Potter would succeed. And I did not want to …'

oOo

He stopped abruptly, as if he'd realised he had already said more than he had intended.

'In any case, it doesn't seem to have done much good. By the time I returned, in this form, the battle was long over. My assistance was certainly not needed here any more.'

'Have you been here all this time?' asked Hermione curiously. 'Why did no one know about it?'

'Not many people come here.'

'But surely you could have moved to Hogwarts? Why stay here?'

There was that familiar sneer again. 'Really, Miss Granger. Surely you don't believe I would be welcome there?'

oOo

'You are a hero, you know. Everyone knows that! Harry made sure of it.'

He drifted towards the window, not looking at Hermione.

'I know what Potter told people. After I returned, I … spent some time outside the castle. Watching. Listening. Studying. It doesn't change the fact – and it is a fact, Miss Granger, do not try to argue! – that I was not liked when I was alive. Why should it be any different now?'

'But–'

'Do not argue, I said!'

The look on his face, paler now than ever, was feral, making Hermione take a step back.

oOo

'Can you honestly say, Miss Granger, that there is even one person in the castle who would want me there? Not as a curiosity item, not so that they may whisper about me, pointing fingers when they think I am not looking, but because they would welcome my company?'

His bitterness should not have surprised Hermione, and yet it did.

'I do not want to become the next Bloody Baron,' he continued, his voice so quiet that Hermione had to strain to hear the words. 'Disliked – hated – by everyone, doomed to spend all eternity facing the reason for his guilt.'

oOo