Chapter 4

Eternal gratitude to Colubrina who is beta reading this story for me. Also, special thanks to the people in my writing group who helped shape the first half of this chapter. You are amazing guys, thank you!

It took a short amount of time to find another job. Severus Snape might possess zero people skills, but Brian Bishop could fake them well enough to get an old colleague to recommend him for something suitable. People who couldn't do much in way of work tended to look out for each other. This job required him to walk around in a museum scaring people away from touching the displayed objects. It didn't take his new boss long to discover he was a natural.

Severus sighed as he walked from one room to another. The museum hardly deserved the name. It was small, located in one of the age-old houses that graced Amsterdam's canals. He stood in the badly lit hallway and checked his phone for the second time that morning. The display was empty. He set his jaw, putting the phone in the back pocket of his jeans, determined not to look at it for the rest of the day. She would have started school by now. She would have enough on her mind. She was all right. She would call if she wasn't.

'Leach on to her right from the start why don't you?' he muttered to himself, pulling his hair out of his eyes. He passed into another room that displayed old Bibles and made his rounds, careful of the cameras around the place. The museum was all but empty. Only two lost tourists with backpacks walked around, talking quietly to each other. He sat in the corner watching them, wondering how in the hell he had managed to make Hermione Granger become his problem. The girl was angry and rightfully so, but she could go on being angry without him. When his phone did finally buzz, he almost jumped.

Severus

He sighed.

You do realize that sending a text message consisting only of my name defeats the purpose of this medium?

Good to know you can text

I am a wizard, not stupid.

He watched the display until it turned black and then spent the rest of his working day not touching his phone. When he got home, his shoulder had started hurting. It had hurt on and off for years, he had a bad fall in his childhood, but after the Schack his shoulder would hurt almost all the time. He hated it.

He marked the day on his new calendar, he had started marking the days in which he could remember what he was doing and where he was, and looked at the six marks in a row with satisfaction. He could just ignore her. His life was back on track; the sinking feeling that had come with seeing her had disappeared enough to the background for him to function again. He could just, get a new phone. The one he was currently holding felt heavy in his hand.

'Ah, fuck it.'

He walked over to the window and sat on the sill, his back against cold stone. The air outside smelled of rain. He picked up the small mobile.

What do you want, Granger?

His phone buzzed almost immediately.

Did you know this school actually makes it possible to use muggle things like this phone?

Yes I do know that

He smiled when the display flared up indicating a call.

'What? You read The Dome: A History?'

'Funny.' She sounded more like herself, excited and bossy. He suddenly saw her like she had been, behind her desk in class, one big bushy head and a hand in the air as high as she could reach whenever he would ask a question. It was strange trying to connect that girl to the woman he had recently spoken to in front of that broken mirror.

'I just didn't expect-' she started. 'This school is very muggle friendly.'

'That's because Durmstrang and Beauxbatons used to dump their muggleborn students there,' he said.

'You are kidding me.' The indignation in her voice was almost comical.

'I'm not,' he said. He hoped to goad her further, give her a cause to fight for. It would be good to direct this new energy he heard in her voice towards something that would keep her occupied. Occupied and perhaps away from him. He was still unsure why he allowed her to call, allowed her into his life. He just knew that the thought of walking away from her hurt. The way hearing about the Weasley boy's ear had hurt. He didn't want to feel hurt anymore. 'Those schools used to have a muggleborn student maximum. Makes Hogwarts sound like paradise in comparison, doesn't it?'

She sighed. 'And here I thought the Dome was so progressive.'

'They are progressive. Out of necessity.'

'You are ruining my school experience,' she said. 'Again.'

He sighed. 'Life is unfair Granger, you should learn to deal with that. There a particular reason you called?'

There was silence on the other end of the line. He could hear her breathing. He tried to imagine her face, scrunched up in concentration as she thought of an answer but found he couldn't. e had no mental reference for this Hermione Granger yet.

'I wanted to check up on you, see how you were,' she said finally. She sounded surprised at herself. 'Last time you had a headache.'

'I'm starting to get one now,' he said, smiling. 'Don't you have other people to annoy?'

'Just you and Harry,' she said. 'You two are the only people I know who use mobile phones.'

He frowned at that. 'What about your parents?'

There was silence on the other end for such a long time he began to think the connection broke.

'Granger?'

'You do not get to speak of my parents.' The cold was back in her voice full force. She sounded detached and he felt the distance between them acutely; felt the strangeness of using a muggle device to speak to her.

'Granger?'

She hung up.

Severus blinked at the disconnect tone, then stood,put the phone on its usual shelf in his bedroom, and sat on the bed. Strange that she would react that way.

He could not recall what happened to the Grangers now that he thought about it. Neither the Dark Lord nor the Order had seemed particularly interested in them. He remembered a single instance in which Minerva mentioned her parents, right after Granger succeeded in turning herself into a cat. While he had laughed himself to tears, Minerva had yelled at Albus for not wanting to inform the Grangers about the incident. He flexed his shoulders, trying to get some movement in them, and frowned. Could it be that her parents had not survived the war? But he was certain he would have heard about that, or read about it in the paper, at least.

No, whatever happened, Granger had managed to keep it hidden from the press. Judging from her reaction, whatever had happened was bad. If these were another two names he could add to the list of the dead because he stood by and did nothing to save them, that would be bad, too.

When his phone buzzed a week later, he wasn't going to pick up. Her anger management issues were not his problem. Plus, his head hurt. His hand hovered over the mobile, the display flashing its warning, someone needs you, you are missing out. He picked up the phone, resigning himself to his new fate. He would...help her, for lack of a better word. If help was what she needed. If she was to be the end of him, he could accept that too. What he couldn't do was let the phone ring on knowing that she might be in need, knowing that she knew he was still breathing. It was dependency, he recognised it as such, but he decided not to care.

'What?'

'Hi, sorry to bother you. My name is Gabrielle. I am a friend of Hermione's.' It took him a moment of blind panic to remember that Granger had mentioned a Gabrielle, the veela, or sister of the veela. He hadn't been paying attention that closely. This could be her, the girl's voice even sounded pretty. He swallowed back the 'wrong number'- sentence and decided to hear her out. 'She told me not to call Harry and I well…I didn't know who else to call.'

'What's wrong with her?' Severus asked, infinitely glad the snake bite altered the way his voice sounded.

'She isn't doing very well. I thought, I mean, I know you two are friends, and I thought…. if you can come pick her up, I think that would be a good idea,' Gabrielle said. He could hear Hermione in the background now, screaming something about minding her own business. What gave the ridiculous girl the idea he and Granger were friends? He sat on the window sill, phone in his hand; ignoring the part of him that wanted to run, straight away to wherever Granger was to help, to fulfil his assignment, to get praise…He'd never learn.

'Tell her I'll meet her at the gate in about fifteen minutes,' he said calmly, Occlumency was such a gift, when it worked he could sound calm even under torture, and hung up the phone before the girl could start asking questions. Before he could start thinking about what it was he was doing.

Apparating brought on a coughing fit and he had to wait for it to subside before he could walk up the lane towards the school. It was no Hogwarts. The Dome was rather small, red bricked and practical looking. The building was completely round, surrounded by a number of alleyways with benches sprinkled here and there. Granger was already waiting, sitting on one of the benches with her back to him. She didn't look up as he sat next to her. Her eyes were dull and the look on her face was close to the one she had worn in the park when she had accused him of stealing her childhood.

'Your friend called,' he said because he had no idea what to say.

'Are you utterly insane?' she muttered turning to him. 'What if someone recognises you?' Her eyes were burning. With a start he realized that he couldn't tell whether the hate he saw in them was directed at him or not. He couldn't read her, not completely. He gripped the sides of the bench until his fingers hurt.

'Calculated risk,' he said; at least his voice still sounded controlled. 'As long as you are here and we keep meeting, I keep running the risk of someone recognising me, or you blabbing. But I think the risk of exposure here is minimal. Only Sabrina would know me on sight.'

Her shoulders relaxed slightly as curiosity took the place of anger on her face. 'Who?'

'Professor Zuid to you, I suppose,' he said. It was nice to know that he could still manipulate, even if he was doing it now to keep her talking.

'You know the potions mistress here?' she asked.

'Yes ma'am, it's a small community, potions. Where's your friend?'

Hermione frowned. 'My friend should mind her own business. I didn't ask her to call you. She just grabbed my phone, saw a new number in there.'

' And assumed you and I are friends,' he said drily.

Granger rolled her eyes at him. 'Gaby likes to look at the world through big pink sunglasses, we all have our ways of coping I guess. You didn't have to come.'

'Tough luck,' he said. 'I'm here.' He glanced at her. She had a calculating look on her face that he didn't like.

'Can you get me out of here?' she asked.

'Away from the school you mean? Yes. Though, you'll need to alert someone if you leave, I suppose.'

'Who cares?' she bit out, her hands gripping the side of the bench as well now. 'It's a magic school, and I can't seem to be able to do any magic.' She spoke calmly but her face had gone grey; worry and discuss alternating themselves in her features. Now he was almost sure the hate he saw earlier was directed at herself rather than him. That hurt, but he had no intention of examining that.

'You're blocked?' he asked instead.

'If you want to call it that,' she shrugged. The stiffness returned to her posture.

'Since when?' he asked.

'Past two weeks,' she said with indifference that was so fake a first-year could have seen through it. 'I missed two weeks of classes.'

'You'll catch up. I am pretty sure they aren't teaching you anything new.'

'Actually, Arithmancy is quite hard, Potions as well, Ancient Ruins…'

'How many subjects are you taking?' he asked, exasperated. She was impossible.

'None, if I can't study magic.'

He grimaced. 'Don't be dramatic, you are blocked. You're still a witch.' The words came out harsher than he meant. His mother used to have episodes in which her magic would leave her, long painful weeks in which she would sit in front of a window and smoke one cigarette after the other and glance at him with resentment in her eyes, as if his magic were at fault for her losing hers. He used to feel especially inadequate during those times and he felt the same inadequacy creep in on him now.

'Sure you want to get out of here?' he asked.

'Yes.'

He offered her his arm. 'You can side along.' She took his arm with some hesitation, and he wondered if that was because he had offered his left arm. The knowledge that the dark mark lay almost beneath her fingers must bother her, he thought, and switched arms. Hermione looked a bit surprised but didn't say anything. He stepped out of the clean lanes of the Dome and into the less clean lanes of Amsterdam's Central Station with her on his arm. The quiet replaced itself with the bustling noise of people moving, talking. He spotted a woman shouting about the coming of Christ and felt a weight fall away from him. In this crowd, he was again invisible.

'That's no way to apparate,' Granger commented. Her arm was still on his. 'You're doing it wrong.'

'Thank you for the assessment,' he said shaking her off. 'I can fly, it changed some aspects of my magic. Have you eaten today?'

'No,' she said. 'I can't remember if I have.'

'Then let's feed you first,' he said already making his way through the crowd. 'On second thought, hold on, let's walk for a bit.'

She blinked then started following him, making her way through the crowd with awkward steps. He watched her stumble for a while then offered his arm again.

'You need to learn to navigate crowds, Granger.'

'I thought I told you to call me Hermione,' she said. 'Where are we going?'

'To greet death,' he smirked, her expression told him he would probably get to watch her navigate large crowds in London, expertly some day. 'Then we'll get food.'

She only shrugged.

They walked out of the Central Station and he turned towards Spui, the shops and Dam square. It had been a while since he had been in what some people considered to be the heart of the city and he felt a smile he could barely contain fly to his lips. The air was different here. Hermione watched her feet, then watched the people and then, pushing her hair back out of her face, watched the city. Her hand on his arm relaxed. By the time they reached the two circles that formed Dam square she was biting back a smile. He walked over to the main ring containing the church and the King's Palace, feeling her eyes on him. There were about five street performers on the Dam today. He saw a crudely made Darth Father, the Mask, a squat, round bellied man was blowing bubbles from a wand big enough to use as a walking sitck. Death stood, as always, at the back of the square near the horse and carriage rides, He walked over and placed a ten euro bill In death's hands. The figure nodded and spread their grim reaper arms in what he supposed was gratitude. Snape turned around, losing sight of Granger for a moment, but then he saw her sitting on one of the stone benches that were set up in a semi-circle around the square. Their eyes met and she held his for a moment before closing hers and leaning back on the bench. The wind had made a mess of her hair. He walked over to her.

'We can do food now.'

She shook her head without opening her eyes. 'Do you do that often? Give money to the grim reaper?'

He shrugged 'Call it superstition. You need to eat.'

'Later,' she said. He sighed and sat next to her. The bubble blower was attracting a crowd now.

'It's like being a ghost,' she said after a while.

'What is?'

'This here. I thought at first it was like being invisible. But it's like being a ghost. They know I'm here, all these people, they just don't care. So in turn, I am also allowed not to care.'

'You need permission not to care?' he asked. He didn't like how much what she had said made sense to him. He liked this square exactly because here he could be invisible. Or a ghost he supposed. There was little difference.

Hermione ignored the question. They sat in silence for a some time. He didn't know how long. He watched his hands, unsure what to do with her. He was no saviour, nor a hero and it was far too late to pretend to be one.

'Aren't you going to force me to talk about my feelings now? Try to figure out what is blocking me?'

'I'm not into forcing. Done enough of that,' he said.

She shrugged 'I tried to blame you, you know. For not being able to levitate as much as a feather I mean, 'she said.

'Who's stopping you?'

She opened her eyes, they were shining with tears. 'That's too easy,' she said. 'Besides, I think you might be carrying enough blame as is.'

He swallowed back a reply that would have made her run, or possibly a thank you. 'What happened to your parents, Hermione?'

She was silent, watching the crowds. A bubble as big as a large balloon floated up to her and burst. 'What happened to my parents?' she asked eyes on the place where the bubble balloon had been just a minute ago. 'A tragedy. They gave birth to a witch.'