A/N Thank you so much for you reviews! They really warm my heart!
Ugh I need to start with apologizing about this delay! I had my finals and lots of stuff to do for school, and to be honest, I needed to write this chapter a few times over before I was satisfied. I will be updating (hopefully) more frequently now that my break has started, but I make no promises. I'm a perfectionist and I want to offer the best of my abilities.
Now, before we get started, I need to clarify few things. Some of you have mentioned the similarities to the Riddle diary incident, which definitely hasn't went by my notice. We will definitely be addressing that on more than one occasions in the future. With that being said, as I see it, Hermione is an intelligent and foolishly brave Gryffindor, who just sometimes can't stop herself from satisfying her curiosity, even if it meant compromising her own safety.
Secondly, about the place where Severus is. I just want to give you a bit of a warning. I want to make this story as 'believable' as I can, but seeing as we are in a magical world, there seems to be very few boundaries on what can and can't be done with magic, and I hope I've found a believable loop hole. Severus' "limbo" might not exactly be the same we've seen in DH with Harry and Dumbledore. I've created what I've imagined to be one sort of limbo, so it might not be true to your version or J.K Rowlings for that matter. That's all I'm saying for now, just clearing things up.
I appriciate all of you taking the time to read my story, so a huuuuge thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 4
Hermione chuckled quietly in content, looking down at the outcome of her boredom. She definitely didn't possess any undiscovered gifts for the visual arts, but nevertheless couldn't help feeling a tiny bit pleased about her newest accomplishment.
The tiny ink Headmistress McGonagall was staring at her with a severe scowl from the first page, mimicking the real one's current posture which hadn't altered in the last fifteen minutes. She found her stance even more rigid than what was normal for the stern but warmhearted Professor. It was caused by Professor Holt, who had been giving her a hard time for a while now by asking about the benefits their school could offer to her as one of their teachers. This clearly wasn't to McGonagall's liking, thus the harsh grimace on her face.
Hermione's small dose of amusement didn't go unnoticed, though, as soon Professor Sprout was leaning over to her side to sneak a peek on what was making the younger witch squirm so. Hermione caught her intentions soon enough, and snapped the book shut before the Herbology teacher could chance seeing what would surely cause an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Knowing the ever-so-cheery Professor, it would definitely bring some unwanted attention with it.
Hermione smiled an apologetic smile, and the older woman huffed in a playful annoyance, bored to the brink of dead herself as well, no doubt.
She wasn't completely in the clear yet, it seemed, as the book suddenly lit up in a brilliant blaze. Hermione let out a small yelp of surprise, as she tried to cover the light emitting from the book on her lap with her robes. The effort seemed to be for vain, as the Headmistress turned her head along with all other Professors, abandoning the sentence she had been in the middle of, to look curiously at her lap and then at her startled features.
"Professor Granger, it seems you have something more interesting over there than Professor Holt's inquisitions," the Headmistress drawled, shooting an aggravated glance towards the older Professor she'd mentioned, before continuing, "Care to… Shed a light, forgive the pun, to your current situation?" She was clearly not bothered by the interruption, since the living standards of the new Professor seemed to be impossible to meet.
Hermione replied with a sheepish smile, a wave of redness making itself known on her soft cheeks. After a moment of the most awkward silence, she thought it would be better not to leave the Headmistress without an answer and improvised.
"Pardon me, Professors, it's just that there seems to be something wrong with my wand", she said, pulling said object from where it had been resting on the chair next to her thigh, while using a wordless spell that made the tip flash with bright light. At the same time she managed to push the book down under her chair, the light now mixing conveniently with the bright morning sun shining from the big windows of the Great Hall.
The Headmistress was not impressed by her attempt to clearly cover something, but let it slip just this once. She raised one of her eyebrows, however, in a matter that was very familiar to the young Gryffindor and which let her know she hadn't been fooled by her little show.
The Headmistress then resumed to her original speech, taking her opportunity to ignore the rest of Professor Holt's questions.
When everyone's attentions were back on the Headmistress, Hermione let out the breath she had been holding and gazed down to where the book currently laid. With her feet, she wiggled the book from under her chair to in front of her legs under the table. She tried various wordless spells to dim the light still flashing brightly from the book, but to no avail.
What on earth? Was there something wrong with her ink? There shouldn't be… There's nothing extraordinary with her ink, nor with the quill for that matter. But the book…
With as subtle movements as she could manage, she spread the book open with her feet. The instant the front cover hit the floor, spreading the book wide open, the light was diminished.
She sighed in relief, and went to levitate the book back into her lap with her wand.
The relief was shortly lived, though, as she noticed something on the very same page she had earlier drawn to, a writing that was certainly not made by her hand.
She gasped in shock, and averted her gaze quickly from the book on her lap. Her eyes scanned the room rapidly, as if making sure no one around her was playing tricks on her. After she'd been reassured by the same fatigued expression occupying everyone's face, indicating that they were all oblivious to what was going on, she returned to examine the mysterious writing more closely.
It read, 'What is this? I insist you reveal your identity and how you're invading my diary?'
Her eyes widened to plates as her brain suddenly recognized the unmistakably familiar handwriting. It was one she had previously been used to seeing in red color all over her assignments while still a student herself at Hogwarts.
It can't be, can it?
But the handwriting… It's the same, no doubt. I've never seen anyone with the same kind of cursive as his. It always was a distinct one, spiky and well refined.
"Professor Snape", she whispered unconsciously aloud, brows furrowed to the point of nearly crushing against each other.
Yes, but are you perhaps forgetting something? He's dead. Has been for years. How on earth could it possibly be him?
She blinked slowly as she read the text over carefully several more times, letting the message sink in. While shocked to the core at the discovery, her over-analytic mind was already ramming through all possible scenarios about what it was about.
What is this? Had she somehow managed to sent her drawing to her late Professor without realizing it? How was that possible? She wasn't aware of a spell which would let her communicate through a book, and what's more, with someone definitely dead.
But... what if it wasn't about her magic?
Hermione's face got two shades paler, her sudden realization making a chilly shiver go through her spine. One frighteningly similar, horrifying event from her second year in Hogwarts had made itself known to her.
What if it's another diary like Tom Riddle's? Oh dear god, what if it's his? No, he couldn't possibly be behind this. Harry defeated him. They had destroyed the Horcruxes. She had been there for the whole show. There's not a damn thing left of that soulless imp in this world, or in any other, for that matter.
She sighed, pressing her two fingers onto her right temple, feeling a headache forming rapidly.
Besides, that wouldn't explain her late Professor's handwriting… Surely he wouldn't have been able to create a Horcrux like Voldemort did. We saw his memories, his motives. He wasn't that vile or murderous. He wouldn't have been able to split his soul.
But who was this then, if not him? It was supposedly his old diary, after all.
Hermione was torn between her overworking, curious mind, which was begging for her to find out who was trying to reach her, and her reasoning, which was telling her to hex the book into pieces.
But what if it really is him? What if he'd managed to find a way to communicate with the living? If he's within reach, could it mean they could contact other demised people as well? What if they'd be able to converse with the dead?
Now there's an idea.
Her eyes sparked with heightened curiosity. Anyone who knew Hermione Jean Granger even a bit, would know it wise to stay within a reasonable distance from her when that glint made itself known.
For the greater good, the Gryffindor in her decided, and she grasped her quill and let it hover above the mysterious message, thinking about her reply.
'It's called a doodle. And pardon me, but I am not relaying that information before you do. I'm fine with staying anonymous', she wrote, and closed the book.
Their meeting had apparently been wrapped up, as Professors were one by one getting up and moving towards the breakfast buffet.
She quickly decided she'd have time to get breakfast later, maybe summon something down to her quarters. The book was now requiring her full attention. She rose to her feet, hid the book to her armpit and started towards the doorway.
Before she could stomp off to the corridors, however, Minerva's voice rang out, stern but layered with surprise. " Surely you aren't foregoing breakfast, Miss Granger, are you? You must be famished after our meeting."
Hermione halted on her feet, and turned her head sideways, eyeing the elder witch now catching up with her.
"I'm sorry Professor, I'm afraid I am. There are some things I must attend to", she uttered, and as the Headmistress raised her chin to retort she quickly continued, "Such as finishing my unpacking. I'll be sure to ask some food from the elves. Lori, was her name, wasn't it?"
Minerva regarded her silently for a moment, and then gave a slow nod, accepting her excuse.
Just as Hermione had disappeared around the first corner, the book flashed again with the bright light it had shone with just a few minutes ago. Instead of fumbling this time, she opened the book as fast as she could, hoping it would work as it did the first time.
The light did indeed dim, and her attention was drawn to the same page as before.
'Yes, I am sure you are. However, seeing as it is you who has no business to be in my diary, I think I deserve a straight answer. Now, out with it.'
Even after reading as much of the writer's words as she had, she certainly couldn't cross out the possibility of this being her old Potions Professor. It seemed very like him to be just as grim and straight to the point as he'd been with his students while still alive, even as dead. You'd think a person would be more considerate if they'd discovered a way from the afterlife to the world of living. Death certainly hadn't changed him, if that was to be the case.
She closed the book, deciding it'd be safer for her to reply when in the safety of her rooms.
Listen to yourself, you daft girl. Don't you think it'd be more logical to assume you were talking with someone... hmm...let's see... maybe less dead?, her common sense berated her as she ran towards her rooms. She chose to ignore it, though, being more excited about the possibility of talking to the dead.
After closing the door to her quarters, she sprinted to her vast desk in her sitting room. She was reminded again by the vivid green colors around her that it did, indeed, need a makeover as soon as possible.
She sat down and spread the book in front of her, pulling her quill from her robe pocket, in a haste to reply.
After a while of pondering how to proceed, she let her quill fly over the paper with swift motions.
'This is Hermione Granger, a Professor at the Hogwarts School of Wizarding and Witchcraft', she wrote, deciding to go with a formal reply in case her guesses were proved false. She had little doubt they would, though, seeing as the book and writing were supposedly his.
But how this was possible, was another matter.
She started to twirl the quill between her fingers, biting her lip as she waited anxiously for the response.
Doubts started soon evade her mind as the reply prolonged. Should she be doing this by herself, after all? She should've told someone about this... What she had discovered. What if it was some sort of Dark Magic, something dangerous?
Before she could change her mind, a reply came.
'I see. And now, how are you contacting me?'
She exhaled loudly enough for the people in Hogsmeade to hear.
"Demanding all the answers, I see", she said aloud in a mocking tone. With a new response in mind, she set her quill down to respond with a determination to confirm who she was writing to.
'I believe it's only fair for you to answer my question first. Who are you?', she put her quill down.
She continued to sooth her own nerves by thinking she was only one floo away from the Headmistress's quarters if something were to go wrong, as the reply came.
'This is Severus Snape'
She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat without her notice as her speculation was confirmed true. She lifted her gaze from the diary to stare straight ahead, and let the statement sink in.
It is him.
Well, it could still be someone playing a prank on you. It's not that uncommon, you know. And do I even have to remind you again, he's dead.
Her head was fuzzing with so many mixed thoughts and emotions, and she had a hard time grasping any of them. The fear of something potentially dangerous along with her desperate need to know everything were clearly two of the strongest, though. If this really was him, it would be a revelation for the Wizarding World to be able to converse someone already beyond the veil.
She refused to believe that someone was pranking her in such a manner, and after so many years. She decided to believe him until proved otherwise, but to still remain wary.
She shook her head slowly, and replied.
'If I may be frank, it is quite a shock to hear from you, sir. I believe I found your diary yesterday. Regarding to your question, I have no idea how I reached you, I simply found this book and drew on it. I had hoped you'd have the answer for that.'
She twirled the end of her quill around her lips, giving into her eagerness and adding, 'Is it really you? The dead Severus Snape? Sir, where exactly are you?'
Numerous questions were flying through her mind as she tried to come up with alternatives about how they were doing what they were doing. It didn't help her to know that a mind as brilliant as his hadn't yet been able to come up with an answer, though.
It was not too long before an answer interrupted her thoughts.
'Indeed, this really is "the dead Severus Snape", as you so eloquently decided to put it. Although, I have little doubt you've already put that together, seeing as you've stolen a diary with my initials in the first place. I don't have enough time or patience, however, for any more questions. I need to ask you for a favor, Miss Granger, and I hope you will comply. Who's your new Headmaster?'
She couldn't say she wasn't a tad disappointed when he'd outright denied her the answers she now found herself yearning for, but ignored his bite, focusing on a clearly more urgent matter than her insatiable curiosity. She responded, 'Minerva McGonagall, sir. And I did not technically steal your book, I believe I found it from my new rooms left by you after... you know. And for what it's worth, I didn't initially know it was your diary.'
The first two pages were now full, and she had to turn to the next one to see his reply.
'It's much more than just a book, Miss Granger, and seeing as you're occupying my old dungeons, I assume you're the new Potions Mistress? That is a fairly interesting turn of events, I must confess. Anyhow, back to my request. I must insist you deliver this book to the Headmistress this instant. I need to speak with her. '
Hermione huffed, annoyed by his dismissive treatment of her. If this really was him, you'd think he'd be more excited about the prospect of talking to anyone on earth, even her. She did understand his insistence on talking to McGonagall, though. Surely she would know better than her about how to proceed with something like this. One concern did came to her when she started to think more about it, and decided to express it to him.
'Sir, with all due respect, I don't know if that's wise. I want to believe it's you, but Minerva is much harder to convince than I am. I'm afraid upon seeing a clearly enchanted book it would make her extra cautious, given the incident years back involving similar settings. She would be sending it to the Ministry of Magic sooner than I could convince her otherwise. There, it would be locked up in the Department of Mysterious Magical Objects waiting for a thorough investigation. I'm afraid it could take years for the book to see the daylight after that. More to the point, I suppose you haven't found any other way of communicating with us, the living I mean?'
The reply came faster than she'd expected.
'Miss Granger, I am well aware of that risk. I must still ask you to turn this book to Minerva. I know a thing or two about how to get her convinced. And thank you for reminding me there are less gullible people in the Wizarding World than you, it brings me some comfort knowing there might be hope for the next generations. Now, if you will.'
He clearly insisted on speaking with the Headmistress, but he didn't have to insult her when she'd only been thinking about his welfare.
Are you sure that's all you've had on your mind, though? That you're only after his welfare and it has absolutely nothing to do with the chance of getting to study a new, possibly undiscovered form of magic firsthand?
She huffed in annoyance to the voice of her conscience, and eventually succumbed to his will. She didn't leave without answering him first, 'Very well, sir. I hope she will be able to help you.'
She then shut the book, and after collecting it in her hands, she headed up for the Headmistress' office.
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