Rumour mill was turning.
Or rather the spawn of one of Rita Skeeter's cousin had married one of the Creeveys and the pair not ran a gossip column in the Prophet. Somehow he doubted this would have occurred had Tom Riddle won the war. If only….
An article had appeared in the Prophet about their 'date'. Or so they called it.
No one would have believed the article, of course, had it not been for the accompanying picture of the two of them. And he looked like a love sick fool. It was horrifyingly embarrassing.
At the angle the picture was taken, photograph-Severus was walking stoically alongside photograph Hermione who was on his arms. Unfortunately, photograph-Severus also periodically glanced down at an unaware Hermione and smiled slightly. Of course, the slight upturn of his lips could simply be a twitch.
He crumpled the paper away and considered the possibilities of missing lunch in the Great Hall. After all, if a student in his morning class was passing around the cut out of the paper, who know how many people will know by lunch.
"Merlin help me," he whispered to himself dejectedly.
It wasn't long before his self-preservation instincts kicked in and he knew exactly what he had to do.
Hermione sat in the Great Hall eating her meal deep in thought, she'd been particularly busy with one of her Transfiguration theories and when she gets this way, little seems to hold her attention but the problem at hand.
She did however have a vague notion of Severus' presence when he sat down next to her at lunch. But since he did not try to start a conversation with her, she guessed the he too was simply preoccupied with other things or simply tired.
She smiled and nodded at him as a way of greeting when he sat down but his returned greeting was not as enthusiastic. She chalked it up as him being tired from their impromptu trip last night.
It really did not occur to her that there was anything wrong between them until he left the Great Hall quite quickly and his chair made a loud scrapping sound that jolted her out of her thoughts.
She quickly scrambled to catch up to him so they could talk.
"Severus!" she called out in a student filled hallway and then quickly regretted it as students stared openly at her. She smiled sheepishly.
"Professor Granger," he iterated clearly trying to make a point of being professional. She blushed further as a group of whispering and giggling students walk past them.
"I…. I just wanted to make sure that we are still on for this Tuesday," she explained lamely.
"I will be focusing on my research," he stated emotionlessly. "Perhaps for the time being, we should correspond by owl."
"Oh… alright," she mumbled a little dejected and she watched as he turned and swept away.
And just like that, they went a week without speaking.
Usually this would not have bothered her as she did not speak with all the teachers on a weekly basis. But she'd thought they were becoming friends.
Almost another week passed before she even caught a glimpse of the man.
Hermione was beginning to worry. After the incident in the Great Hall at lunch, she had seen very little of him. Instead he's resorted to mostly owling her. They have had one meeting in the last two weeks and it was short, curt and to the point.
It was as if he was avoiding her. And it was beginning to bother her.
So when she saw his roaming the halls aimlessly during her rounds, she did the only things that a Gryffindor knows how to do best.
She ran after him. She was going to confront him.
"Severus!"
"Professor Granger," he greeted her stonily. "How can I be of assistance?"
She wanted to yell at him. To ask him why he's been so aloof and cold after they were becoming fast friends. But his greeting to her was so natural that she wondered if she'd imagined the earlier friendship they'd shared. Perhaps… perhaps this was the way it should have been.
"I…. umm…. I…. nothing," she finished lamely. "I just wanted to come say hello. It is late."
"Of course," he replied understandingly, too understandingly. "I appear to be suffering from insomnia. Perhaps if it is amendable to you, I could take your rounds. This way we do not both need to be roaming these halls."
"Oh…" she wasn't quite sure what to make of it but she nodded obediently. "Well… I will see you around then."
When Hermione left, his shoulders relaxed noticeably and he scrubbed his face with his hands frustratingly. Why could he never get it right?
Unconsciously Severus wandered towards the third floor. He wasn't quite sure why, but it always calmed him to take refuge in one of the small libraries on the third floor. As he thought about his safe room, he also thought of Hermione.
She did not look very happy earlier. He sighed and entered through the familiar doors.
Despite the familiar doors, he found that the entire library had changed. In fact, the library had disappeared and turned into the Headmistresses office, or rather, Albus' old office.
"What sick joke is this?" he mumbled to himself as he readied to leave. But the doors were closed. "Bloody hell…"
He waved his wand around towards the door but it did not seem to do anything.
"Severus," a familiar voice greeted him. As he turned around Severus found himself staring into the clear blue eyes of one Albus Dumbledore. "Please sit."
A little disoriented but not at all unvigilant, he sat down tensely and stared at the old man suspiciously.
"Lemon drop?" he offered.
"No," was the terse reply Albus received. Then with a no nonsense expression Severus demanded, "Tell me what is going on."
"I have risen from the dead," Albus announced in a dramatic voice. Then he smiled bashfully. "Just kidding. I'm simply here temporarily to speak with you about life and such."
In the wizarding world, the dead coming back to talk was unusual but not impossible, so Severus simply went along.
"Why?"
"Why not?"
"I have round to make Albus," Severus told his impatiently. "Do get on with it."
"Miss Granger," he began.
"No," Severus told the old man simply.
"Do hear me out," Albus requested. "You have been awfully callous with regards to your relationship with her. You live in a time of peace. You deserve happiness."
"I am content," Severus enunciated clearly, hoping the older man would get the point.
"Content is not happiness, my boy," he told the man wisely. "In order for you to obtain happiness, you must let yourself hope. Let her in and..."
But he was cut off.
"This is outrageous!" he exclaimed as he stood up angrily. "I will not take romantic advice from the ghost of a deceased doddering old fool!"
He sung the door open, thought he wondered how it now opened. But before he could think too much about it, he walked briskly right into a wall. And everything turned black.
He did not stay unconscious for long. He was well aware of the throbbing pain from his nose.
"Urgh…" he groaned.
"Episkey," a long ago forgotten but strangely familiar female voice spoke. Before he could dwell on it, sharp pain radiated from his nose and suddenly the pain stopped. "There we go Sev. Now, can you sit up?"
Lily.
He froze and wondered what kind of sorcery this was. But as he opened his eyes he found the he was still in Albus' office. But Albus was replaced with Lily Evans… no Potter. He had long ago accepted that fact.
He propped himself up against the wall slowly and stared at the woman in front of him.
"Are you truly here?" he asked.
"I am here much in the same way Albus was here," she explained in the same mysterious and vague moment. "The castle has seen you hurting and has sent us here to help you."
"Help me?" he mumbled. But then he remembered Albus' words. "I do not need help."
"Of course not," Lily smile a little patronizingly. "You never did. But perhaps, perhaps you can just listen and once I've finished saying my piece, I will leave you be."
"Very well," he conceded exasperatedly. While he was still not entirely sure if this illusion was truly Lily, he found that he could not find it within himself to be harsh to the woman he had loved and lost so long ago.
"Alright, thank you Sev," she sighed contently and plopped down on the floor across from him. He looked across at her a little petulantly and he was reminded of their good times as teenagers. How long ago.
"Severus," she began. "I've known you for a long time now. And in all of our time together, there is something that I've learned about you that both infuriates me and amuses me. You want to belong and make meaningful connections, and sometimes you do. But mostly, you just close up the moment an opportunity arises. I've watched you for years sabotaging your own relationships. And I cannot fathom why.
"And Hermione, she is such a clever girl, woman mind you. She is friendly and wants to get to know you. So why are you running away from her and hurting her?"
Severus refused to meet Lily's gaze and tried to reason with himself that what he was doing was in both of their interest.
After all, Hermione did not need his friendship like he needed hers. She did not feel that pull towards him as if a string was tied to his ribs. She was friends with him because it was practical, because he was useful, because he was there. Once the other teachers begin to accept her, she would forget him.
Best not let himself get too attached.
"She does not need me," he tried to argue.
"I saw her chasing after you," Lily spoke softly. Soothingly. "We both know that's not true. She needs a friend."
"She will not need me soon enough," he rephrased.
"Have you become a seer while I was not looking?" she teased.
"It always happens…" he told her deprecatingly.
"No," she told him seriously. "It doesn't."
But he did not believe her.
"Even if it did," she tried again. "Would you rather we had never met then?"
"You may still be alive," he reasoned.
"Doubtful," she mumbled. Then her face turned pensive and slightly sad. "On this side, you soon learn that some things are meant to be. But others, other things we can decide."
"I do not regret our friendship," Severus told her finally, hoping she would stop thinking of whatever it was that made her frown deepen. "But I do regret how it ended."
"We were young," she explained. "But our friendship meant something to you. You took a chance that day when you approached me under the great big oak tree. But you've stopped taking risks, you've stopped hoping…"
"I am afraid to hope," he mumbled mostly to himself.
"It takes time to learn a new skill," she teased. "But you were always a quick learner."
Severus sat silently thinking about their confusing and messy conversation. He tried to run parallels between his friendship with Lily and the blooming friendship with Hermione. Things were much simpler now. There were no Death Eaters, no Marauders.
But they were also so much more complicated. She was so young, and he was so… bitter.
They would never work out.
But he could be her friend. The castle was trying to tell him that. Hermione needed a friend and he was turning her away. He knew the pain of rejection or betrayal. And he was suddenly ashamed that he was now doing this to Hermione.
He felt like a callous cad.
He had been so blinded by his romantic feelings for her that he resorted to having the skewed mentality of a teenager. A few decades and he was still the selfish boy he used to be.
The one that would throw Potter's life away if he could get Lily. He learned his lesson. He knew better now, so why had he pushed her away?
"I… It appears I have made a mistake in pushing Hermione away," Severus admitted reluctantly.
"Oh?" Lily smiled triumphantly.
"Yes Lily," Severus admitted reluctantly. "You and Albus have done accomplished your mission. Now I must go finish my rounds."
"Wait…" she stopped him. "Tell me what you learned. So I know you're not just saying what I want to hear."
"Lily…" he all but whined. "Very well. I have come to find that I have been selfish by pushing Hermione away. It was childish of me. I will endeavour to be a better friend to Hermione."
"Okay…" she agreed reluctantly and let Severus out of the door.
When Severus left, Albus reappeared and put a hand on her shoulder, "I do not believe the boy understood the point of this entire ordeal."
"That's Severus for you," she mumbled. "He has such a silver tongue that he can even make himself believe what he wants."
Severus walked out of the room vowing to never to return to that damned library. So much for peace and quiet.
Though he would not admit it, he was glad for the new perspective the two ghosts of his past have given him. He wondered if it was too late to go speak with Hermione, to which the answer would be yes, as he has been in that room for a good hour and she was most likely asleep.
As he rounded a corner however, he bumped into said person.
"Oh!" she almost shrieked. "My apologies. I… I… Sorry. I forgot to tell you earlier, Minerva warned me that the portrait on the 4th floor of Caesar is a little wonky and is wont to shout profanities if you walk past it with a lit wand. That's all. I'll be lea- leaving now. Thank you for taking my rounds. Not that you are doing it for me, of course. But I am still grateful… Oh bollocks."
"Hermione," he stopped her with a tinge of humour. "It is fine. Please go sleep. I will see you tomorrow at breakfast."
Hermione nodded a little dazed at this new warmth in his tone.
The man was a mystery to her. But she was just glad that he was now in a better mood.
