This chapter is the product of an angsty playlist. I've been missing snarky Snape. I'll twiddle my thumbs and wait for you to read the chapter. No pressure.
*Disclaimer: JKR lives in a huge mansion. My house seems to be always out of hot water*
Chapter 7-
Hermione Granger smiled to herself as she watched a 6 year-old flying off of her bicycle onto the pavement, her parents scooping the girl into their arms and kissing her bruises. Flash forward. The girl was just a bit older, a science book propped up next to her porridge while she asked her father philosophy questions. Flash forward. An elderly man dawned in purple robes handed the girl a thick envelope smiling kindly while she ogled him with awe. Flash forward. She sat eagerly on the on a three legged stool as a hat yelled to the crowd, "Gryffindor!" Flash forward. Trembling as she left the girl's bathroom on Halloween where the unconscious troll remained. Flash forward. Catching a glimpse of a yellow eye in her mirror while walking through the library, a piece of paper wadded in her hand. Flash forward. A cloud of dementors circling down, mouths gaping open. Flash forward. A surly seventeen year old leaning in for a kiss under the moonlight by the lake, the girl's face flushed with nervousness. A pale hand clutched at her shoulder and Snape appeared, sneering.
"Done yet?" He sneered, pulling her out of her memories, "I told you that you needed to concentrate Granger!"
"I tried," she gulped down a mug of water, exhausted.
"The brightest witch of her age," Snape gazed at her mockingly, "Gave up after merely trying?"
"I'm not giving up," she insisted, setting the mug down and clearing her mind, "Let's have another go."
"Legilimens."
- Shyly staring at Victor's lips before reaching in the return the kiss. Looping her arms around his neck while he twisted his fingers around a loose curl that hung down from her up-do, calculating each movement of his in her mind.
"That's private," Hermione scowled and pushed him out, built a wall around all of her thoughts, pushed so hard that she felt him let go, and then she herself fell in.
A miserable teen prowling around in his bedroom, face twisted in anger. A pretty witch sat on his bed, brushing loose strands of ginger hair out of her face.
"You're being ridiculous," Lily snorted at Snape, "I don't love him."
"You care for him," Snape spat at her, "He wishes me dead."
"I'm not going to just sit here and let you talk about him like that," She stood to leave, "He was right about you. You're nothing… Snivellus. Nothing," She tossed her hair over her shoulders and stomped out, not even pausing to see the hurt in his eyes. –
"Satisfied?" Snape hissed. The two of them were back in his office, both out of breath with faces of rage. Hermione simply nodded and took another sip of water while she waited for Snape to calm down. She had grown accustomed to his moods.
"How did you know?" Snape clutched at his wand, not sure if he wanted an answer, "About Lily?"
"I'm the brightest witch of my age," She joked weakly, but then her face grew serious, "Harry told me."
"He knows nothing."
Hermione shrugged, "If you say so."
"How did you figure out the password to my stores?" Snape looked at her through piercing eyes.
"I was in pain," She shuddered remembering it, "Every bit of me was on fire. The longer I was away from you, the worse it got. Then it just came to me. I didn't question it."
Snape's face contorted in anger and for a moment Hermione was convinced that he was going to strike her, but she noticed the way that he was clutching his arm. He shoved his wand into his cloak and made to leave.
"Professor?"
"I don't have time for this Granger," he barked.
"I would prefer it if you didn't die," She crossed her arms in front of her chest. She refused to say goodbye. He merely nodded at her, and then he was gone.
"Severus," The Dark Lord was found in the library of the Malfoy Manor. Snape couldn't be deceived though; a handful of Death Eaters could be called upon at any moment, "Surely you came with news about Potter?
"I am sorry Master," This time, sorry wasn't good enough. It rarely was. The curse was generous enough, three slices through his stomach, shallow enough to keep him from bleeding out, but deep enough to have his shirt clinging to his skin.
"We've had this conversation Severus," Red eyes challenged black. Fire to coal, ashes to ashes, "I am highly disappointed."
"I need time," Snape gasped, not daring to grab at his wounds.
"I don't have time Severus," Another slash, crossing the three, "However I did not summon you to kill you. We shall save that for another time won't we?"
"You have been very generous," Snape bowed at his Master.
"You have a job to do. Bellatrix has told me about how… unwilling… you have been."
"It must be done before September starts Severus," Voldemort warned, "I expect you to return to Hogwarts."
"Of course, Master."
"Until then, you are needed in Ireland. You will find a rare flower there Troglodytarum flos. With that flower, you shall brew a potion which will allow us to control the trolls."
"For the war, my Lord?"
"Always for the war, Severus, always for the war. I expect you to leave by morning. The flower is rare and will be found where the mountain meets the water. Do not fail me again, Severus. Now, come. There is something I wish to show you." The two of them left the library and Snape was led back to those dreaded dungeons. A group of young women lay in the middle of the ground, too weak to fight the Death Eaters which violently groped them.
"Mudbloods," Voldemort smiled, "A present to you, Severus. You have disappointed me severely, but yet I award you with such a gift."
"Thank you, my Lord," Severus stepped forward, pretending to appraise them, "They are- desirable."
"Choose one Severus," The Dark Lord said to the encouragement of the other Death Eaters, "Give us a show."
They all looked at him with such feeble, broken eyes. One in particular stuck out to him, light brown hair and a mess of curls. He forced his eyes shut and blocked the sight of her out. It's not her. It's not her. It's not her.
Instead, he turned to one with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes and pulled her into his grasp, "I think I have decided Master."
"Then what are you waiting for, Severus?"
He claimed her mouth with his own, feeling her resistance as she tried to fight against him. He tasted blood. Had she bitten through his lip or had he chewed through hers? It didn't matter, he squeezed her tighter, ignored the applause of the Death Eaters. He fisted her hair violently, listened to her screams. It's not her. It's not her. It's not her. But it could have been. Loosening his grip, he watched her capsize to the ground.
"I'm bored Severus," the voice was in his ear, ringing like a mosquito in July, "Finish the job."
"Avada Kedavra," when Snape looked down at the limp figure, all he saw were eyes the color of honey, and a mop of frizzy brown curls.
He needed to get the taste out of his mouth. The taste of blood. Of flesh. He needed to get the vision out of his mind, that blank stare that was burned into the back of his eyes. He needed a drink. Perhaps a bottle. He wanted to die. He deserved to die. Throwing his bedroom door open, he saw her wearing his button up shirt, a quilt wrapped around her frame as she read in his favorite chair. Her brow was furrowed, the visible result of her brain working. Her bare legs folded ever so neatly underneath her as she poured through the pages.
Not looking up at him she opened her mouth, "I'm glad you're back. I was going to ask you about this potion that I'm reading about. It seems really fickle. Would you stir it after you added the unicorn tail? Or before? It doesn't really specify and I would hate trying a potion without knowing all of the details first."
Finally, she looked up at him. She saw it in his eyes, and she set down her Potions book and approached him, "What did he do? Do you need help? Tell me where it hurts. I can fix it."
Kill me. He pulled her to him in one swift movement and began to devour her. There was no passion. This was anger. This was selfishness. He ripped at her hair and gripped her sides till they bruised. He bit and groped and claimed. He could feel her pushing him away, but he refused to let go. Kill me. He slid a hand up the wretched black button down that she insisted on wearing and dug his nails into the tender flesh that he found there. Kill me. He pushed her backwards, towards his bed, his mouth becoming more insistent, and his fingers gripping tighter. Kill me.
"Stop!" She screamed, throwing a fist into his chest. It was over, realization creeping into his lungs.
"Don't touch me," she shrunk away from his hand, "Don't you dare touch me. Ever." She was gone then, running away from his grasp. The only person that could have possibly cared for him. Running away.
She could feel his eyes on her as she looked out at the night sky. She had sought refuge in the library and thrust the window open. Now she was balanced precariously on the sill.
"You could fall," he muttered, eyeing her as she jerked her tear stained face away from his view.
"Would it matter?" She wanted to disappear. To fall into the sky and never return.
"I should think so," He sat down on the ground underneath her and folded his head into his knees. Two people so physically close, yet it felt like they were miles apart.
"Why did you do it?" Her voice came out as no more than a tight squeak.
"My actions were inexcusable," it was the closest thing she would get to an apology.
Nodding she turned to face him, "I understand."
"No you don't."
"You've been alone your entire life, Professor," She looked at towards the sky again, "Sometimes you are a book lover. Other times you are the teacher that hated his students. You are also a Death Eater. And a once spy. You are a man, Professor. I just didn't know what that meant until now. You come home each night and regardless of whether or not someone is there to fill your needs, you are alone. I don't know how you ended up with me. I'm sorry that you didn't. This isn't easy for me either. You push people away because you think that they're going to hurt you again. Tonight you needed something that I couldn't give to you. I won't pretend to love you, Professor, because I don't. If the moment occurs again I will be forced to hex you. If you come home a Death Eater then you better find another way to vent it, because it won't be with me."
She slid off of the sill and offered him her hand to aid him up, "Would you like some tea, Professor?"
"Tea?"
"Tea."
"I was awful to you Miss Granger."
"I'm aware."
"I can't promise you that it won't happen again."
"I know."
"And you're going to offer me tea?"
"I do believe that you have been drinking too much."
He only shook his head at her, "Ass."
"Language, Professor."
There you have it. She finally set him straight. 10 points to anyone that noticed that she called Spinner's End "home". It's getting late and I'm going to bed read some fanfiction for 8 hours. Cheerio!
