Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Not mine, you know that quite well.

A/N: Thanks to Nakhash, my wonderful beta. She makes this chapter readable. And thank you all readers and reviewers. I love every comment of yours and hope you continue to read and review. Now onto the story, enjoy!

ZzozZ

The day had been uneventful as Hermione unpacked and made a quick tour around Hogwarts' grounds, late that evening, to rekindle her memories of the great castle. She didn't know how much time she spent wandering but it was fairly dark when she returned to the castle and dinner had already been served. Hermione went down to the kitchens. She had missed the place very much and the thought of the enthusiastic little house-elves made her heart jolt with excitement. How were they now? Were they still the same stubborn prats wanting to be slaves? At the back of her mind, she still harbored the desire to free them but she had learnt to keep her feeling in check long ago; she wouldn't do anything that caused chaos at Hogwarts, at least not now.

Hermione met the house-elves were busily preparing things after dinner; once they recognized her, they stilled their tasks and gathered around her, firing questions. She ended up eating her first dinner at Hogwarts in the kitchen.

It was almost 10 o'clock when Hermione bid goodbye to the house-elves. It was dark in the halls but she didn't light her wand. She felt her way to the marble staircases but when she reached the bottom of the stairs, she changed her mind. She decided to take a walk by the lake and went to the main entrance, pushing open the huge oak door just slightly, so she could walk out.

Outside, the moon rose fully in the endless black sky, accompanied by millions of stars. Hermione breathed in deeply, enjoying the sweetness of the cool night breeze. She strolled lazily to the lake and then along the shore, stopping only a few moments to admire the view around her and the twinkling stars above.

Feeling the wind started to blow a bit stronger, Hermione pulled her robe more tightly around herself. Even in summer, Scottish nights could be chilly. She took a seat on a rock, letting her gaze take in the view of the lake. Quite a few times, she saw fish pop up to the surface, leaving bubbles behind; Hermione gazed at them fascinated. 'What a wonderful place!' Hermione sighed. She turned her gaze toward the castle. Under the moonlight, Hogwarts' looked even more beautiful, though so unreal; it seemed more like some enchanted castle in some fairy tale she had read as a little girl. Sometimes she just couldn't believe that magic really existed. It seemed more like a dream than truth. 'How could anything as big as this castle not be seen by Muggle eyes? And how could Muggles not be aware of such a big society of wizards?' Hermione mused silently to herself. She had no idea She knew it was all magic but still, it was hard for her, someone who originally came from the mundane world, to believe that magic wasn't only found in books. Another gust of wind blew over her, making Hermione shiver visibly. She wrapped her arms around her middle.

A plopping sound echoed weakly through the open space. Hermione turned swiftly back toward the lake and saw a faint ripple on the water's surface; she smiled and continued gazing. Suddenly she felt eyes on her back; she whirled around quickly but there was nothing there except the ghostly shadows of the trees and the castle gleaming in the moonlight.

Hermione frowned, her eyes darting through the darkness; not a single object was moving, even the leaves on the trees barely rustled. Her eyes led the way in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Finally, her gaze rested on the barely visible shadow of Hagrid's hut, 'Hagrid's former hut,' she corrected herself. She sighed once more. How could such a large man just disappear, vanishing into thin air?Hermione shook her head grimly as old memories resurfaced in her mind.

The final battle, there was blood and bodies everywhere in Diagon Alley... Hermione closed her eyes; she felt dizzy. Her parents, blood dripping down her mother's face, her father seizing one of the Death Eaters as he pointed his wand at her mother... Hermione buried her face in her hands, sobbing and shaking. Her body trembled violently as a range of emotions ran through her mind.

Hermione abruptly stood up and shook herself as if brushing the images away. "It must be that time, again," she muttered to herself, wiping away the tears. She straightened her robe, brushing off the dust. She tried to stop herself from trembling. 'It was only another flashback,' she told herself, 'don't give in.' Then she walked briskly back inside.

Tired and weary, she climbed the stairs to her private chambers, which was located near Gryffindor Tower, even though her classroom was on the first floor. She hurriedly took a hot bath to ease her sore muscles. Dressed in a white bathrobe, she climbed in her bed but instead of lying down, she sat crossed her legs while sitting on the gold and red bed covering. Closing her eyes, she took deep, regular breaths in and out, trying to clear her mind of any emotions. She stayed in that position for almost thirty minutes, then opening her eyes slowly, she stretched her relaxed muscles.

She crawled to the head of her bed where there was a small nightstand, matching the bed's old-fashioned style. She pulled open the top drawer and fished out a black wooden box, about six inches in size. Hermione clicked a small orange button at the front of the box and the cover flipped open, instantly revealing about a dozen small indentions in the thick wooden bottom. All were empty except for three, which contained tiny bottles; a thick green liquid could be seen through the glass.

Hermione eyed them painfully before removing one. She twirled the tiny bottle between her fingers; her face now wore a thoughtful expression. Zuri Ndoto Potion, a present from professor Vakaga. She had to drink the potion once or twice a week when the pressure inside her mind became greater than usual. It made her mind rest and lessened the severity of the bad dreams she usually had. To put it bluntly, the potion maintained her sanity; if not for it, she would go mad from the episodes in which her dark memories from the past decided to rush in on her all at once, a frequent occurrence. Hermione snorted derisively.

Since she had awakened from the deep sleep after the events at Niks, Hermione had tried to live her life as normally as possible. She could appear calm and cheerful to other people, especially those who knew her. But deep down, she was haunted, haunted by her memories. Sometimes she would sit alone on her bed, unable to sleep or not daring to sleep because of the memories of the war that usually began when she drifted off. It was a restless and distressing sleep; she almost gave up at times when it seemed too much to bear but her will to live was stronger. There seemed to be something, something that made her want to live. She was searching, she knew, though she didn't know what it was she was trying to find. When she had received Professor Dumbledore's letter, asking her to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, she was filled with hope. She didn't know why, but the very name Hogwarts sounded reassuring and something about it just drew her into coming back against Harry's begging and Professor Vakaga's advice to stay in Africa and let them help her fight her demons.

She had just taken some of the potion the day she left for Hogwarts, which meant only one day had passed since the last dose. 'Why did she need another one so soon? Maybe it was because she was so excited that she was back at Hogwarts, the pressure built up quicker than before.' Hermione sighed and pulled open the stopper. She downed the potion in a quick gulp. The bittersweet liquid ran down her throat, leaving a faint scent on the tip of her tongue; Hermione grimaced. She hated the potion though she needed it - she needed it. There were only two more bottles; when the last bottle was drunk, she would have to brew another stock for herself from the recipe professor Vakaga had given her along with the potion.

Another sigh escaped her lips; Hermione put the empty bottle in the box and tossed the box back in the drawer with a loud 'clunk'. She hated to live on potions. She hated the empty feeling she was having now.

With a flick of her wand, she put out the candle on her nightstand. She crawled under the covers and lay still for a moment, gazing at the grayish ceiling of her room. 'What is missing?'she asked herself quietly. Maybe the missing piece was lost in the pool at Niks; she didn't know.

Severus Snape was in his private chambers once again, after escaping from the clutches of the headmaster at dinner. It was dark; the only light in the room came from his unattended fireplace. It barely showed the dark features of Severus Snape, sitting in his overstuffed armchair. His right hand was holding a glass of wine while the other lay unmoving on the armrest. He peered over the rim of his glass, looking at nothing, deep in thought.

'She didn't show up for dinner,' he stated in his mind. He had had a disturbing feeling since she returned and it was just getting worse. Hermione was acting very strange, not that he cared, he told himself. He was just curious that was all.

'She was acting as though nothing had ever happened,' a voice in his mind chipped in. 'I know, I noticed.' He sighed; it was getting very frustrating now. He wanted very much to confront her and ask her directly what had happened but since she returned, he hadn't even said a word to her, which made the prospect of holding a conversation with her sound highly unlikely. Besides, his Slytherin pride wouldn't allow him to lower himself to talk to her first. He had to come up with a plan to discover what was going on.

"She might just be pretending; who would have guessed?" he said aloud, his voice thick with bitterness and disgust. His grip on the glass tightened. He downed the rest of his wine then stole a glance at a grandfather clock hanging on the wall. Nine o'clock. He put the empty glass down beside the wine bottle on the table and stood up. Retrieving his cloak from the couch, he left his rooms for night duty, even though it was summer.

It was quiet and even darker outside his rooms, though he found his way easily from corridor to corridor. He went straight to the main staircase; it was more out of habit than any actual purpose, since it was a favorite place for students to sneak out at nighttime.

He strolled back and forth in the shadows of the corridor but it was damn quiet. Finishing his second rounds of the Astronomy Tower, Snape became bored, no sneaking students to catch and no house points to deduct. He climbed down to the ground floor and strode forward to the front door, slightly surprised to find the door ajar. He slipped through cautiously. His right hand rested on the wand in his pocket. Even though the war had ended so long ago, his instincts had not died. He was still Severus Snape: spy, former Death Eater, Hogwarts' Potion master, and greasy git.

He walked carefully and soundlessly toward a tall tree. He leaned his back against it and looked around. 'Who had opened the door?' He frowned. His eyes caught sight of something moving near the lake. He tightened his grip on his wand and took a few steps nearer…a figure. He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the figure by the lake, a woman, he could tell by the long, waving hair. His frowned deepened as he felt a jolt of familiarity run up his spine. Without warning, the woman turned around, causing Snape to jump quickly behind a tree at his left side. He stole a glance from his hiding place; it's her!

He was about a hundred meters away from her. He knew from the clothes he was wearing it would be hard to be notice but he didn't want to risk it so he stood still, allowing a few minutes to pass before daring a move. Still gripping his wand, he stuck his head out a little, using his long black hair as a curtain to conceal his pale white face. He saw her sitting on a rock, her long, brown, curly hair blowing lightly in the wind. She shivered and hugged herself. "Silly girl! Why doesn't she just cast a warming charm?"he muttered under his breath. 'You said you don't care, Severus,' a voice teased him, mockingly. i 'Shut up!' /i He scowled inwardly at his inner mind.

He continued to watch her. He noticed she wasn't wearing the outfit she wore to lunch but instead had on a pair of Muggle jeans and a white T-shirt under her old shabby school robe, which was clearly too short and too tight for she now-fully-blossomed body. Her creamy white face, reflecting the moonlight, was wearing an amused expression. Severus wondered what she was thinking. Maybe she was thinking about her old experiences as part of the Golden Trio, sneaking around and breaking the rules. He snickered a bit then resumed looking at her, again.

Her eyes were soft and twinkled brightly, rivaling the stars above her head. From where he was standing, he could dimly see her cheeks flush pale pink. He suddenly remembered how smooth they had been under his touch and he shuddered involuntarily as memories intruded his mind. Her lips – Gods! They were full and red and slightly parted as if inviting him to taste them. Merlin! He was losing his mind now! He fought to keep control over his own body.

Something must have happened when she turned quickly back to the lake but Severus couldn't make out what it was. He was too far away to hear any small sounds around her but he stood straighter, watching her reaction carefully, and kept his guard up. He stood stiffly for what seemed like an eternity but Hermione didn't turn back or make any movements that would indicate there was anything dangerous, at all. Severus relaxed but didn't loosen his grip on his wand.

He watched her from behind. She looked beautiful, even with her back turned to him. Snape shook his head to clear the unwanted feelings that tried to creep into his mind. He focused his gaze at the back of her head, wondering again what she could be thinking about. She must have become aware of him staring at her for she spun around suddenly, forcing him to pull his head back in, nearly straining his neck.

He cursed under his breath and resumed stealing glances once again. He saw that she was staring in the distance; following her gaze, he understood the reason that her face fell and her eyes dampened with unshed tears; his own expression darkened a little too as the memory of the half-giant reached his thoughts. Hagrid was such a good person; he had always considered him one of his friends, even when he sneered at him.

He sighed soundlessly and turned his attention back to Hermione. She was staring at the hutthat once was Hagrid's. It was still his because the new teacher for the Care of Magical Creatures had only used it to teach in, not to live in. But itwasn't the same, having him in it and calling it his. This time, Hermione didn't react when he looked her in the eyes. 'Maybe she's too wrapped up in her own thoughts,' he reasoned. Soon he found himself using his Legilimency skills, looking into her mind without realizing; he couldn't stop himself.

He dived into her memories. There were a lot, recent and the long past. Her recent memories were quite simple; he saw her and Potter – Potter was holding a woman's hand. 'Must be his girlfriend,' he sneered. He didn't want to know about Potter so he dived deeper into her older memories but they turned out to be of long ago – the battle at Diagon Alley: screaming, fighting, blood soaking the streets, bodies of innocent witches and wizards all around; then the attack at King's Cross: her parents... and many more horrible images, pouring liked rain in the dark reaches of her mind. He could feel Hermione shaking and sobbing. A twinge of guilt floated in his consciousness but before he could make a decision, she stood up, abruptly breaking the contact.

He saw her brushing her tears away and shaking her head slightly. She muttered something to herself that Snape couldn't understand. Then she straightened her clothes and dusted herself off. He watched her walk determinedly back to the castle, only passing a few centimeters from where he was hidden. Her familiar scent brushed his nose. He stood still; his face betrayed no emotion, even though his mind was bustling with confusion, then he too retreated to his own miserable dungeon.

Back in his chambers, Snape couldn't rest. His mind kept going back to the incident at the lake. Finally, he stopped trying to sleep and went to sit on his couch. With a flick of his wand, he lit the fireplace, a small red flame dancing happily on the grate. He then waved his wand lazily, Accio-ing a bottle of Firewhisky and a glass from his stores. He filled his glass and slowly sipped the burning liquid.

'It doesn't make sense,' he thought to himself. He had been in her mind and she hadn't even known. It didn't make sense at all, not for such a clever witch liked Hermione Granger - a full-grown Hermione Granger. But the way she reacted back at the lake indicated that she didn't suspect that someone was using Legilimency on her. How could that be possible? Snape shook his head to clear his mind. 'Has she lost her touch? Where is her cleverness?' He brought one hand up to massage his temples.

First, she acted as if nothing had ever happened between them. Now, Hermione Granger didn't recognize Legilimency and, what was more, her memories - well, where were those of him and her and Hogwarts? Why was her memory crowded with so many horrible things? Was she suppressing them? Impossible, she didn't appear to know about him watching her; how could she be suppressing? 'Then where are they?' a reasonable voice in his head asked. He sighed; the whole mess was getting really complicated now and it had only been a day since her return. "You told yourself not to care, Severus," he whispered to himself and gave a dry, mocking laugh. Mystery was a kind of game he liked to play and he would play this game. He had to find out if only for the sake of curiosity.

The next morning, Hermione woke up. She felt tired and her head hurt a little. She had the usual dreams yet again but this time there was a rather strange one added. Hermione thought about the odd dream from last night. She was back at the lake once more but she was not alone. There was someone, a man – as black as the shade of night itself- sitting beside her. His arms were wrapped around her shoulders and her head was buried in his broad chest. Hermione swore she could smell his scent in her dream and he smelled so nice. They were both facing the lake so she couldn't make out who he was. Then slowly, very slowly, he turned toward her but then the image switched hastily back to her usual dreams, dark and scary, haunting her the rest of the night. Hermione sighed. Shaking her head deliberately, she told herself it was only a dream, a nice dream for a change. Willing herself to stop thinking about it, she pulled herself out of her bed and set off to get ready for the day.

Even if she had told herself to, Hermione couldn't shake the image out of her mind. It was so vivid and so real. 'If only the cursed dream had started a second later, she would have seen his face,' Hermione thought angrily. She was getting a little agitated now as she walked down the corridor to the Great Hall for breakfast. She could subconsciously feel eyes on her but when she turned around, she could see no one. Hermione quickened her stride and blamed the uncomfortable feeling on the side-effects of the damn potion.

Arriving at the Great Hall, she glanced around the table. The other professors had already arrived and there were only two empty places. Hermione greeted her colleagues, her colleagues! She couldn't quite bring herself to believe it, she thought delightedly. She took a seat beside professor McGonagall, finally realizing that the other professor who was missing was Professor Snape. She swallowed hard. 'Why do I get so nervous just thinking of him?' she asked herself. She didn't have to wait too long; the dark wizard came striding into the Great Hall, his robes billowing behind. His stoney face wore no expression. When he saw that the only vacant seat was beside her, his mouth quirked up in a disgusted sneer, one Hermione knew only too well from her days as his student. She watched him walk quickly toward the table as he seated himself next to her, his body as still as a statute.

"Good morning, Professor Snape," Hermione greeted him.

"Morning!" he grunted and kept his gaze forward.

Hermione quirked one eyebrow and resumed her conversation with Professor McGonagall. Food appeared and they all started eating. Hermione finished her breakfast quickly and excused herself from the Great Hall. Today she wanted to start preparing her lesson plans. She had no experience in teaching, only brief moments of private torture with Neville Longbottom. She didn't know what to expect or how she was to present herself to them. Should she be easy and friendly like Professor Lupin? Or stern like Professor McGonagall? Or even nasty and sharp tongued like Professor Snape? Hermione chuckled lightly, imagining herself as Professor Snape. Suddenly she felt a chill run up her spine. She shuddered, an image flashing before her eyes: 'It's not fair!' shrieked a voice. 'Why not?' said a man; his black eyes twinkling in the darkness. 'You grade them and I will do your homework.' He paused. 'Hmm...I wonder if my Transfiguration skills are still excellent.' A girl tried to snatch the paper from the man but he gripped her hand and pulled it to his mouth. He kissed her hand softly and whispered, 'And I expect you to be fair with your friends, Miss....'

"Hermione Granger!" The sound of her name brought her abruptly back to reality. Without realizing it, she found herself standing in front of her room. 'Was it a dream? A daydream?' Hermione shook her head; she had no time to speculate any longer as the voice became louder, uttering her name liked an exploding bombs. She waved her wand, unlocking her door. "Who's there...?" Hermione shouted back but the words stumbled on her lips as she saw a head appearin her fireplace. "Harry!" She squeaked, pushing the door shut and running to kneel in front of the fireplace.

"How did you... Oh! You're back?" she asked, beaming.

Harry smiled at her but shook his head. "No, Hermione, I'm still in Africa."

The smile left her face. Hermione looked puzzled. "So how...?" "Good connections with the Ministry," interrupted Harry, his smile broadened. Hermione grinned. "Anyway, how are you, Hermione?" Harry asked. "You haven't owled me since you left."

"I'm fine," replied Hermione. "Sorry for not owling you, Harry; I've been so ecstatic about the whole thing that I forgot."

"It's ok, 'Mione, I was just worried about you," he said sincerely. He looked around her room, his eyes getting a little wet. "How's things at Hogwarts?"

"The same as in our days, Harry," said Hermione. "The professors are great to me except for, well, you know."

"The greasy git?" Harry snorted. "He didn't trouble you, did he?" Harry asked; his eyes glinting dangerously.

"Heavens no, Harry!" exclaimed Hermione. "And you shouldn't called him that, Harry, he has done a lot for us all," she said, frowning in disapproving.

Harry grinned wickedly. "Sorry, love, forgot that you're his champion," he teased. Hermione glared at him but he merely laughed heartily and soon the two of them were laughing merrily. Then his face turned serious and he looked straight into her eyes. "Are you really all right, Hermione?"

Hermione stopped laughing, startled by his sudden question. She looked up from his intense stare; she noticed his hair was longer than before. A quiet minute passed by; Hermione still felt his eyes on her. She sighed. "I'm as fine as can be, Harry," said Hermione, looking back at him. For a moment, she nearly told him about the events last night and her strange vision but decided against it. 'He doesn't need to know,' she convinced herself. Loudly she said, "I can't expect any better, can I?" She gave a half-hearted laugh, trying to take the whole thing lightly. Harry didn't buy it. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said, looking away.

"Can you please stop that now, Harry?" said Hermione. She was trying very hard not to cry. 'Why didn't he just let it go?' she thought.

"I'm trying to live a new life, Harry," she told him, "just bless me, will you?" Harry looked unsure. "Will you?" she said again.

"Okay, you have my blessing and best wishes, Hermione," said Harry dejectedly but he smiled.

"Thanks," said Hermione, "and say hi to Kelly for me, all right?"

"All right! 'Bye, Hermione and good luck!"

"'Bye, Harry! Don't forget to owl me when you two decide to get married!" she called after him. She could see him smiling and heard a faint "yes" as his head disappeared.

Hermione stood up, breathing in deeply. With a new source of energy, she pulled out her parchment and quill and started writing her lesson plans, unaware of the black figure that had slipped through the door she had left slightly ajar.

He knew he shouldn't be stalking her but he couldn't help himself. When he saw her come out of her room this morning, her face was paler and her eyes puffy, as if she had not sleep. He stayed in his dark corner, watching her walk stiffly down to the Great Hall. He carefully followed her, keeping his distance so as not to alert her but his eyes never left her frame. He smiled gleefully when he saw her shoulders tense up as she looked around. He was satisfied knowing that at least his watching had made her uncomfortable.

He had a few days more to enjoy this game before the dunderheads started filling the whole castle. When the time came, it would not be easy to continue playing the game, as he had to keep his eyes on the students from his house.

He had let her enter the Great Hall first and when he saw that the only chair available was next to her, his stone-cold heart gave a slight jolt. He bit back any emotion that threatened to burst forth. Putting on his traditional sneer, he stalked toward the table. He was surprised to hear her soft voice greeting him and even more surprised to hear him greet her back, even though it came out more liked a growl.

It was not easy sitting next to her, smelling her sweet scent and feeling the heat of body so close to him. It aroused his desire more than he could imagine. If not for his years of trained self-control, he would have swept her up and kissed her right there at the table. Now, as he sat in his office trying to prepare lesson plans - or rather punishment plans - for his students, he felt the part of him that held Slytherin pride sneering in disgust at him for his weakness. 'Weren't you hurt badly enough, Snape?' it seemed to ask. 'Don't you remember how she dumped you, you stupid old goat?'

Dropping his quill on the table, he ran his hand through his long black hair in exasperation. It was not easy to forget. He had been an emotionless shell for so many years, ever since he was a young boy. Most people around him only showed him hatred, deception, and treachery. His parents had never shown any appreciation toward his birth. To his father he was a tool, a tool to gain power, and to his mother he was a burden, binding her to his cruel father.

When he was a student at Hogwarts, he had never really had a friend. Some of his Slytherin mates had called themselves his friends but, as he was well aware, they did so out of cunning, their friendships forming out of advantage rather than the true caring that a friend shared with another friend. Growing up in such an environment, he was unfamiliar with tender feelings or friendliness but maybe his natural self wasn't as bad as it appeared. Maybe that was why he had committed himself to Dumbledore, who had become his first real friend. Of course, he had done many things for him in return, to pay his debt for the many evil acts he had committed under the mask of the Death Eater, but deep down, he knew it was mostly out of his respect and devotion to Dumbledore, his friend.

Who would have guessed such a man as he had such a loyal heart? But it was true. And it had played fair in his relationship with her, as well. She had seen him as a tormented professor, a very Dark wizard, but she looked past his facade and had loved him unconditionally. 'Unconditionally, until the time she left you,' a voice echoed in his mind. It was like rising so high then dropping down abruptly, deeper than before. It hurt badly, he admitted, but his heart, once engraved with her image was hard to erase. He sighed dramatically and rubbed his temples. He had to find out the truth first before deciding what to do about his heart. Listening to Potter's and her conversation had doubled his suspicions, something really serious and really wrong had happened and he had to know what it was.

ZzozZ

A/N: Thanks for reading. Please review...