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Below my window the wakening trees,
Hacked clean for better bearing, stand defaced
Suffering their brute necessities;
And how should the flesh not quail, that span for span
Is mutilated more? In slow distaste
I fold my towel with what grace I can,
Not young, and not renewable, but man.
-Thomas Kinsella
Chapter 8
The train chugged to a stop rather ominously in Hermione's opinion. Snape wordlessly rose from his chair and reached up towards his trunk. She just watched his casual movements with thinly veiled envy, her heart was hammering inside her chest and her hands shook terribly. She doubted if she were still in the future that she would ever have returned to Hogwarts. It was stained with pain and regret to her, as she supposed it was for many people. Every corner of the old castle echoed a tragedy so unspeakable that she shuddered at just the thought of leaving the relative safety of the train. Her eyes drifted towards the window where she could make out a few students rushing around the platform exuberantly, some looked muddled, probably just having woken up after the long train ride, but there was an undeniable aura of peace present. The atmosphere contrasted so harshly to her tumultuous heart it was almost grating.
"Luna?" Severus's low tone summoned her from her musings. She turned to find him pushing her trunk across the table towards her. She nodded once before rising from her seat slowly. The uniform she'd changed into over an hour ago was new and starched stiff. She longed for her familiar Gryffindor robes that she had grown so accustomed to. "I'll be there, this isn't a battle we're facing. It's simply a means to an end," Severus murmured when he noticed the uncertain expression that marred her delicate features. It was strange for her to hear anything comforting coming from Severus Snape, the dark man that occupied the dungeons throughout most of her formative years.
"A means to an end," she reassured herself with a sigh. She nodded once more, not meeting Severus's gaze. Without another comment he opened the compartment door and headed out into the hall. Squaring her shoulders, she took a long steadying breath before following the determined man. It seemed over the last year she'd had to embrace more fears than she even knew she possessed. It was getting to the point that entering an intimidating situation was more arduous than unnerving.
She kept her head down as they walked through the station, using the hand Severus has placed near her lower back to guide her through the crowds. She was relieved when none of the Marauders leapt in front of them with their wands half braced with a curse. It seemed their revenge would be better thought out than she first expected. They reached the carriages without any incident, even Snape's friends seemed to be giving the pair a wide berth. Her breath hitched when she finally lifted her gaze towards the carriages.
She couldn't help extending her hand and petting the aberrant creatures that stood eerily still in front of the carriage. It had seemed so strange to her when she had ridden the thestrals to the Ministry back in her fifth year. It had unnerved her to touch their skeleton structure with no real idea what they had looked like. She had naively thought they would resemble a horrible disfigured beast, not fit to walk the earth. She'd been wrong. They seemed to possess an enthral charm that captured Hermione's eye. They were so calm and confident in their own physique that they seemed to belong on this earth even more than she did. There was an obvious beauty in their darkness that exuded tranquillity. Then again, considered Hermione, there was a beauty in the mortality they represented as well.
"Luna," Severus called. Hermione jumped slightly and withdrew her hand from the thestral so fast that, to the casual observer, it almost appeared that she had been shocked. She looked up to see that his hand was in front of her. It took her a moment to realise that he was offering to help her up into the carriage.
"Sorry," she murmured lowly as she grasped his hand and stepped into the carriage. She thought she felt him squeeze her hand as a comfort before letting go but she quickly dismissed the idea when she noticed the neutral expression that resided on his face. Snape had never been one for platitudes, especially towards the best friend of Harry Potter.
"Hello Severus. Nice Yule?" A feminine voice called as she climbed the steps and entered the carriage. "And this must be Lady Prince?" She added with a bold smirk in Hermione's direction. Hermione shuddered involuntarily at the sound of the familiar voice. Bellatrix Black was beautiful, in a wickedly roguish style. Her hair was still a little wild, but her eyes shone in an impish challenging way that contrasted harshly to the mania that Hermione had unfortunately grown to associate with the woman. While Hermione was sure that the girl in front of her was capable of great evil, she could also admit that Azkaban's scars on the older woman were even more apparent with the clear disparities between the two. Nevertheless, she felt her body stiffen and a familiar panic claw at her chest.
"Tedious as ever Bellatrix," he responded evenly before gesturing towards the unnerved girl by his side. "This is Luna Prince, my cousin. This Luna is Bellatrix Black, of the Ancient and Most Noble House," he introduced formally before letting his arm fall to his side. Typical Snape, Hermione thought disparagingly, cool and collected no matter what.
"A pleasure," Bellatrix commented with a smirk, her eyes openly assessed the girl. Hermione could only nod weakly in return, being saved by the appearance of a slightly older boy she didn't recognise climbing into the carriage dressed in Slytherin robes.
"Walden, I didn't see you on the train," Bellatrix declared loudly, in a tone that bordered on flirtatious.
Oh Merlin.
Suddenly the boys crooked nose and heavy-lidded eyes seemed all too familiar. It was strange seeing the Death Eater that had been employed to kill Buckbeak as anything but spine-chilling. Hermione had to do a double take just to confirm that the aloof boy was the killer she'd learned to fear. Macnair's presence certainly was jarring.
The two future Death Eaters continued an amicable conversation until the thestrals began to move. Hermione almost thought that she'd be able to make it to the castle until Bellatrix released a loud high-pitched laugh at something Macnair had said. It seemed twenty years had little impact on Bellatrix's laugh. Suddenly Hermione was back in the Malfoy's drawing room with the sadistic woman leaning over her, cutting into her skin while she cackled. The carriage was gone, and her senses were consumed with the horrible memory. The way the woman's matted hair had brushed off her shoulder when she'd whispered terrible things into her ear. The stink of her vulgar breath. The thought that she was going to end up like the Longbottoms. It was all-consuming and hitched her breath painfully.
The tight clutch on her hand drew Hermione from the awful recesses of her mind. Looking down she saw Severus's hand gripping both of hers in her lap so tightly his knuckles were strained white. She was woefully reminded of the first night she had spent in the past, when she'd woken in a complete panic and clung to the stoic man. His firm touch seemed to anchor her to the present. He never turned his head to look at her, but somehow, he'd known what turmoil haunted her. Hermione didn't miss the way Bellatrix studied the sudden contact with an amused smirk.
"Walden, have you had the pleasure of meeting Lady Prince?" Bellatrix asked when there was a lull in the conversation. Macnair's light blue eyes turned to study her, as if seeing her for the first time. Hermione wasn't fooled though, she knew he'd been curious about her presence from the second he'd stepped into the carriage.
"I don't think I have," he responded with an incline of his head in her direction. "An absolute pleasure, my Lady," he murmured softly. Hermione had to stop herself from wincing. My Lady was far too close to My Lord for her comfort.
"A pleasure indeed," Hermione managed to mutter back, her voice much steadier than her tumultuous mind thought possible. Her grip on Severus's fingers increased and she was glad when his hold tightened in response, it was the only outlet for the uneasiness and fear that plagued her. Slowly the carriage came to a stop, much to her undisputed relief.
"Well then, let the year begin," Bellatrix announced with cheerfully acerbity. She threw a smile towards Hermione that she couldn't find the will power to reciprocate.
….
Minerva McGonagall changed very little in the twenty years that had passed since Hermione had last seen her. Severus had led her though the familiar castle that seemed to permeate loss in her heart until the strict woman was in sight. Hermione stood and watched as the woman, who had become close to a maternal figure in her life, lectured some first years, who had lost their way, with a sharp glint in her eyes. She remembered with a smile how Trevor had wondered out in front of the Professor during her own speech.
"Professor?" Snape called when she'd begun to herd the first years towards the Great Hall. McGonagall turned at the sound before spotting Severus in the crowd. The severe thinning of her lips might have been comical if Hermione wasn't so nervous.
"Mr Snape," McGonagall greeted stiffly as she walked towards the pair. "And this must be the Miss Prince the Headmaster has told me about," she continued as her eyes shifted to evaluate the girl. Hermione could easily spot the thinly veiled in the woman's eyes. Judging from the reaction Hermione had to assume that Severus was somewhat of a nuisance to the woman.
"Yes ma'am," Severus confirmed.
"And I suppose she needs you to be sorted?" McGonagall queried harshly with a raised eyebrow.
"No ma'am. I was simply showing her the way," Snape conceded as he nodded towards Hermione and began to follow the first years that were ambling nervously towards the Great Hall. Hermione could see the surprise in the woman's expression at how diplomatic he was with his answer, again she was forced wondered just how snarky Severus was as teenager. She watched him leave, for the first time grieving his assertive presence.
"Well Miss Prince you can either be sorted in front of the school or I could sort you right now," McGonagall questioned with that no-nonsense tone that Hermione had grown so familiar with. Belatedly she noticed the sorting hat that was folder on top of some rolls of parchment in the older woman's arms.
"Right now please Ma'am," Hermione said weakly, the thought of placing the hat on her head made her nauseous. What sort of person was she now? She doubted that she'd be able to fit into just one of four simple categories. Sure, she'd fought with the light, but that didn't mean that she hadn't made some questionable decisions over the last year, some that didn't speak of bravery but fear.
"Wise decision Miss Prince," McGonagall said. Wasting no time, the older woman handed over the hat to the slightly startled girl. Hermione took it automatically but paused for a moment before putting it on. "Well, don't dawdle girl, I have a Welcome Feast to attend," she ordered sharply. Hermione couldn't supress the little smile that grew on her face at the command. There was no Lady Prince to the strict Professor, to her she was just another student. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the familiar hat onto her head.
'Well then, this most certainly is a surprise' the sombre voice spoke in her mind the second the hat touched her head.
'Is it?' Hermione asked, terrified of what the disembodied presence might be seeing in her frazzled mind.
'A time traveller wouldn't merit a little surprise in your books Miss Granger?' The voice asked with a hint of amusement. Hermione froze, petrified of the power the hat now had over her. 'Oh, do try and control your nerves child. I'm not in the business of sharing the details I might find in the heads of my sorted,' he continued glibly. It took a moment for Hermione to calm her erratic breathing.
'What are you in the business of?' She asked boldly.
'I thought that was obvious? I am known as the sorting hat after all,' the voice answered, completely dismissing any subtext her question may have had.
'So where am I to go then?' She asked, wanting the conversation to be over.
'Well you don't seem to think you fit in anywhere, so how am I to pick?' He asked gently. 'I only ever tell a person what they already know', he continued.
'I don't really feel brave anymore,' Hermione confirmed miserably.
'Brave isn't a feeling Miss Granger, it's a verb,' he explained softly. 'The secret, my dear girl, is that there is a bit of each house in every person I sort. Surely you don't really believe that you don't prize knowledge, that your good friend Harry wasn't loyal or that even your unlikely travelling companion is not brave?' He questioned softly. 'Just because you have changed does not mean that there is no longer a place for you in Godric's house," he reasoned. Hermione had to swallow back the lump that had formed in her throat at the hat's words. His comments resonated with some doubts she had been mulling over the last year. There were choices she'd made that would be morally questionable in most people's minds, choices that kept her awake at night. Her devotion to ending Voldemort had narrowed her vision. All the carnage had been supressed and now that she had finally finished her tasks all that was left were the memories of people she'd condemned along the way. From Goblins to school children she carried their losses heavily on her shoulders.
'Miss Granger, there is only so much in this life that you can take responsibility for. A war is not one of them,' the hat murmured as he followed her train of thought. "GRYFFINDOR," he called aloud suddenly, jarring Hermione was her sombre thoughts. She opened her eyes to see McGonagall pulling the hat from her head, an expression of surprise covering her face.
"I must admit Miss Prince, I did not expect you to be in my house," she acknowledged lowly with a curious gleam in her eyes.
Hermione could only nod weakly in return; the hat had given her a lot to consider.
….
Severus Snape pointedly ignored Dumbledore's welcome speech for the new year. Seeing the man had been so surreal he felt the need to focus on just about anything else. His attention was taken by the brunette that sat at the end of the Gryffindor table. There were empty seats surrounding her, but he didn't think the preoccupied girl noticed the obvious snub from her classmates. Word of her attack on the Marauders must have spread through the house like fiendfyre. Even from his seat across the room he could see how preoccupied she was with her thoughts. He wondered, not for the first time, if he'd made the right decision, playing on the girl's respect for authority, to convince her to come to Hogwarts.
"You must be disappointed Severus," Rodolophus muttered from across the table. Severus let a little amusement seep into his eyes to interest the boy. "Or not," he added when he noticed his expression.
"Oh, please Rodolophus, you can't believe I wanted the girl in this house with every other man aspiring for her hand," he answered back, trying his best to keep his irritation out of his tone. He'd been manufacturing this excuse for weeks and didn't want it ruined by his lack of patience. A look of realisation dawned on the Rodolophus's face.
"So, you encouraged her to go for the house that we hate the most?" He queried with a raised eyebrow. In favour of a verbal response Severus just passed a derisive look to the older boy that seemed to breathe the word obviously.
"Oh, you wicked man," Bellatrix tutted lowly from Severus's left with a mischievous smile. "The poor girl looks disgusted to be amongst those half breeds," she continued with a giggle. Severus turned his attention back to the girl who'd been a thorn in his side for nearly seven years now. He could see how Bellatrix would mistake her uneasiness for haughtiness, her shoulders were tense as she studied her hands and she hadn't reached for any food on the table. Severus sighed as a prick of worry prodded his conscience. The last year had been hard on the girl, gone was the childish brave know-it-all that always seemed to have a sparkle of mischief in her eyes and in her place a grieved shook woman.
"How did you convince her to go for it?" Rabastan asked from beside his brother. Those were unsurprising the first words that the quiet boy had spoken to Severus since they'd arrived back from the holidays.
"I may have convinced her that Gryffindor house might provide a little respite from the drafty dungeons, granted I don't think she thought she'd be dining with mudbloods," Severus indulged allowing a small smirk to grace his stern face. The nasty word spilled out of his mouth easily, but it felt dirty on his tongue. "The girl thought the Slytherin common room was damp and mouldy by the time Yule was over," he added for comic relief, but struggled to smile along with the others when images of the girl screeching at night filled his mind. What horrors had she endured by the people at that very table?
"A stroke of genius really Severus, won't stop my brother here though," Rodolophus jested, while reaching up to pat a smirking Rabastan on the back. Severus simply scoffed at the implication.
"Best of luck, I have that girl wrapped around my little finger," he challenged openly. Conversation moved on then, but the matter was left hanging in the air uneasily. Severus returned his attention to the isolated girl reluctantly. Watching her, so secluded and filled with grief reminded him keenly of how he'd behaved when the first war had ended. It was an unsettling comparison and one he's rather forget.
….
"I just feel sorry for her is all, sitting alone at the end of the table," Marlene complained as she watched Luna Prince finally reach for some food. It was only a bread roll and Marlene was convinced the girl was more interested in pulling it apart rather than actually consuming it.
"She attacked us," Sirius retorted darkly as he took a long drink from his pumpkin juice. Somehow the boy made it seem like he was drinking firewhiskey instead of a simple vegetable drink.
"From the sounds of it, you guys did sort of stalk her," Alice defended, having recently been caught up with the gossip about the new girl.
"Alice," Lily hissed at one of her best friend's treachery. Alice raised her hands up in an appeasing manor.
"I'm just saying Lily, it must have been pretty unsettling to find you all hanging around her house like that, especially in times like this," Marlene defended, they all knew what exactly she was referencing. The rise of a new Dark Lord wasn't exactly information that could be avoided, even if by some miracle a person hadn't heard the whispers, the change of atmosphere throughout Wizardry Britain was too drastic to ignore. Lily scoffed at her friends reasoning.
"And what would a pureblood Prince have to worry about?" She questioned with a raised eyebrow. Marlene just shrugged in response, not meeting the redhead's eye. It was a well-known fact that Lily was the only muggleborn amongst the group, and the fear of offending the girl held all their tongues.
"I'd keep my distance if I were you, she'd not exactly pleasant to talk to," James said as he rubbed the back of his head where he'd landed after her powerful stunner had met its mark.
"Kind of funny one little girl took the three of you on," Alice commented with a smirk.
"We were taken by surprise," Sirius immediately defended, from his tone the subject was a sour one.
"It is weird that a home-schooled witch could take us all on," James mused to himself.
"Is there something you want to say about our gender Potter," Lily's crisp voice cut through his thoughts. Her emerald eyes narrowed dangerously at the insinuation.
"What? No! I was just saying home-schooled pureblood witches aren't exactly known for their education," James hurriedly explained, attempting to mitigate his error.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Lily pushed, not relenting.
"They're basically kept to marry and pop out a few kids Lily," Marlene cut in, feeling a little sorry for the floundering boy.
"That's barbaric," Lily muttered, completely aghast. A few people just shrugged in response, that was just the way things were.
"She'll probably have trouble keeping up," Alice pondered, sending another sympatric glance down towards the isolated girl.
"She has the stunner spell down anyway," Peter muttered bitterly. There was a moment's pause before a few of the girls started to chortle at the boy's expense.
"She just had a few lucky shots," James rationalised with a little smile of his own.
Sirius turned to study the girl for a moment. There was definitely something intriguing about the witch he'd heard so much about the last few days. While his friends had been stunned early he had had the opportunity to exchange a few spells with her. He was many things, but ignorant of power and control was not one of them and the girl possessed bucket loads of each. He watched as she lifted her gaze and sought out Snape at the Slytherin table. The taciturn boy had already been staring in her direction and a moment seemed to pass between the pair before they both dropped their gazes. If Sirius was a betting wizard, which in all honesty he was at times, his money would reflect his suspicions. There was obviously a comradery between the pair, that was deeper than estranged family ever could be.
…
Hermione hurried towards the girl dorms the second the first person stood to leave. Sitting at the familiar table had been painful. The last time she'd spent so long in the Great Hall instead of tables there had been lines of bodies. A flash of Remus and Tonks lying, with vacant stares arms outstretched, almost touching, where the Ravenclaw table should have been caused an involuntary shudder to creep up her spine. Hermione didn't know how anything would ever be the same even if by some miracle she did manage to return to her own time. She shook her head fiercely, moping had never been in her nature.
"So, you're the new girl that has everyone gossiping," a masculine voice called from behind her just as she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. She was glad for the company, if only so she could ask for the password. She turned with a small smile on her face, ready to play nice with whoever wanted her attention. She froze when she saw a set of familiar blue-green eyes and renowned red hair.
"Sorry?" She questioned, transfixed by the resemblance between the man and her best friend.
"Fabian Prewett," he introduced with an incline of his head and a small smirk. "Head boy," he added, as a way of explanation for why he too was roaming the halls alone.
"Luna Prince," Hermione responded, the name unfamiliar to her tongue.
"You must have run from the Hall to be the first one here, I'm just finished setting up the password," he commented lightly as he drew nearer with a casual ease that was so like his nephew. There was something in his eyes that differed from him however, an astute curiosity that Ron had never possessed.
"The password?" Hermione asked, not wanting to extend the conversation any longer than it needed to be.
"Gryffindor is by far the better house," Fabian said, for a moment Hermione thought that he was continuing their discussion with a peculiar topic change but when she heard the portrait open behind her she had to supress her smile.
"I'm not sure how the Professors will feel about that comment," she murmured as she backed away from him and headed towards the common room.
"I'm hoping after they say it a few times the affirmation will become something of a subconscious truth," he called after her.
"How positively Slytherin of you," Hermione couldn't help but comment. She thought, for a moment, that he might look affronted at the suggestion, like Ron would have, but instead he just chucked lowly.
"We all have our vices I suppose," he muttered with an amused glint in his eyes.
"To that I must agree," she professed with a sad smile. She nodded once before turning completely and entering the common room, glad that he seemed to be heading in the opposite direction. He'd be needed to guide the prefects and to take care of the younger years.
Feeling slightly nostalgic she made her way up the spiralled staircase towards the sixth floor where she knew her dorms would be. It wasn't until she was finally behind the curtain surrounding her bed that she finally allowed the tears to leak down her pale face. She was sick of feeling so tired and angry all the time. The last few years had been so fast paced, a constant series of projects that needed her absolute attention. Now all that surrounded her was a terrible stillness that gave her too much time to think about things that shouldn't be thought about. She steadied her sobs with a few hard willed deep breathes and mentally berated herself.
Now was not the time to break down
She didn't have the luxury of such trivial emotions, from here on out she was going to block out all the memories and the hardship and just focus. There was a solution to her situation and she'd be damned if she didn't find it before the school year was out.
Please please please review. I hope there wasn't too much angst for you guys.
