They'd made Harry face a dragon. A dragon. The whole world had gone mad. The teachers had failed them. Dumbledore had failed them. They let students into an enclosure with dragons. They let a 14 year old boy face a fifty-foot, fire-breathing, man-eating monstrosity.
Waiting to see if Harry's firebolt was coming had probably been the longest and most traumatic few minutes of Hermione's entire life. They'd had no plan B. She'd seemed to have developed a strange form of bifocal vision; all she could focus on was that awful monster and her best friend's terrified face. Then she'd heard the broom speeding through the air, and once Harry was on it she could finally draw in a breath. He was amazing on that broom. He didn't die. Then Harry and Ron were friends again. And she hadn't been the least bit ashamed when she'd burst into tears.
But now she couldn't sleep and she'd felt too restless to stay in her dormitory listening to Lavender and Parvati's gentle snores, so here she was; under her hasty, first attempts at a Disillusionment Charm, sat on the floor by a huge arched window at 3:30am. She'd been there for the better part of an hour, looking out the window and trying to process her tangled feelings and the events of the last few days. She truly realised now just how much danger Harry was in. Someone was trying to kill him. She was sure about that. You-Know-Who was behind it. She was sure about that. But who was operating nearby, who had put Harry's name in that Goblet? Karkaroff had been a Death Eater, but for some reason she didn't think it was him.
She'd initially thought by Moody's tone, when he spoke to the Durmstrang Headmaster that he'd been a Death Eater, and it turned out she'd been right. Did that mean Malfoy's Dad was a Death Eater? Was Snape a Death Eater? No. No, she trusted him. God knows why. She'd had time over the past few days to calm down, get over the humiliation he'd made her suffer and think about her feelings for the Potions Master properly. She didn't hate him. What he'd said to her had been unnecessary and cruel though. She hadn't expected him to be kind to her, to treat her with the same respect she'd shown him, to be civil even, but the way he'd looked at her so coldly and said *"I see no difference."* It had been beyond awful. His eyes had been glittering with silent malice and amusement and she'd just wanted to drop dead. He could have just sent her off to the Hospital Wing; there had been no need to say that. But she didn't hate him. She didn't regret the decision she'd made last year to go after him. She needed to remember that he wasn't secretly a nice person; he was Snape. She didn't particularly feel anything for him anymore. He was a human. He was her Potions Professor. That was it.
Hermione had also come to a vague conclusion about her confusing attraction for Professor Moody and Victor Krum. It wasn't their looks (especially in Moody's case) but they both had a certain set of characteristics. They were both very brave, very strong and were the best in their fields, they were also rather isolated and solitary. Were they lonely? A little vulnerable even? Moody was thought by many to be mad. He didn't seem to have any friends, probably because he'd gotten so paranoid. Krum was rather surly. He seemed to spend most of his time alone in the Library, stalked by obnoxious girls who were only interested in him because he was famous. There was definitely a theme.
Death Eaters at the World Cup, the Dark Mark, Harry's dream, Professor Moody possibly being attacked, Bertha Jorkins disappearing in Albania where You-Know-Who was thought to be, Harry's name coming out of the Goblet of Fire. Tears stung in her eyes. These events were leading up to something very bad and it was all centred around her best friend. Dumbledore and the teachers were just letting it happen. How was she supposed to keep Harry safe? Her thoughts swirled round in her head. After a frantic few weeks desperately trying to find a way past a dragon, then manically practising Summoning Charms till the early hours of the morning in the hope of keeping her best friend alive, then the quite frankly worrying adrenaline high she'd been on during the First Task, sleep was not going to be coming anytime soon. How was she supposed to relax? They had that bloody Golden Egg to worry about next.
Severus Snape couldn't sleep, but that wasn't really a surprise to him. Truth be told he rarely ever slept well and what with Death Eaters, one of which he had to share a table with every day, mad ex-Aurors with a grudge, Potter in a deadly tournament and the Mark on his arm now darker than it had been for over ten years, he had rather too much on his mind to even bother trying to go to bed when he felt like this. He was restless, and that's how he found himself wandering the castle at well past 3 in the morning. He rubbed his left forearm scowling. The implications of the Dark Mark growing darker were very unpleasant. He'd shown it to Dumbledore a few weeks ago, before one of his lessons it had started to burn a little and he'd panicked. If he was honest with himself, he should have shown it to the Headmaster before then, but acknowledging its change was something he'd wanted to put out off for as long as possible.
And now Potter was in that God-awful Tournament. He'd truly believed the idiotic boy had put his own name in the Goblet until he'd seen his face when he emerged from the Champions tent. He'd looked overwhelmed, terrified and oddly let down, as if he couldn't quite believe they were letting him take part. They shouldn't be letting him take part. He was a child and a stupid one at that if he didn't have his little sidekick whispering in his ear. He'd been sitting unfortunately close to the Gryffindors for the First Task and had witnessed Granger clawing at her own face hard enough to leave marks. Granger. God that girl was a pain.
"I see no difference" His own words floated into the forefront of his mind. He shouldn't really have said that. It had been right after his meeting with Dumbledore and he'd been stressed and tired and downright terrified and he just hadn't had the patience for their petty squabbles. Insulting her like that had just seemed to slip out; borne of a pathetic attempt to make himself feel better, or more in control at least, by making someone else feel bad. If it had been anyone else it may have even worked, or at least wouldn't have had the opposite effect. She'd looked up at him with those ridiculous teeth and huge brown eyes and look horrified and hurt yes, but also, rather betrayed. It had felt like that look of disappointment she'd given him last year; like she thought he was better than that. Well, he wasn't and at least now she knew. But he had felt a smidgen of remorse – well, maybe not proper remorse – but a touch of slight regret perhaps, for treating her like that when she'd been half decent to him, whatever her motivations had been.
Severus had even been slightly more civil to her in their Potions lessons since but she hadn't seemed to notice. Indeed, he'd expected her to glare at him and the hatred he'd seen momentarily on her face before, to now be entirely obvious when she looked at him. But she didn't and it wasn't. She just seemed entirely indifferent to him and he found that rather unsettling; people he couldn't predict were dangerous. Why didn't she hate him?
The Dark Lord would hate him. He didn't want the Dark Lord to return. He didn't want to return to the Dark Lord. All thoughts eventually led back to this. He didn't want the Dark Lord to return.
Something shimmering slightly caught his eye at the end of the corridor so he removed his wand from his sleeve and moved silently closer. A student. At 3:30am. In a random corridor in the school. Under a pretty poor Disillusionment Charm. He rolled his eyes and swept towards whoever it was, ready to berate them and their stupidity. Raising his wand he uttered the counter-charm. His eyes widened in surprise as none other than Hermione Granger was revealed before him.
"Miss Granger, what on earth are doing out of bed at 4am?" He hissed.
It was easily 4am by now and Hermione had started to feel sleepy. She'd been about to go back to bed when she'd heard footsteps and frozen. She'd felt the trickle of warmth over her head and realised she wasn't Disillusioned anymore. She actually felt too tired to panic. Then…
"Miss Granger, what on earth are you doing out of bed at 4am?"
Shit. Professor Snape. Shit. She'd been staring quite determinedly at her slippers but now she looked up at him, trying to gauge how angry he was. He didn't look angry. That was pretty scary in itself. Why didn't he look angry? Wait, why was he out of bed at 4am? He didn't look like he'd even been to bed yet. Merlin he looked exhausted. The perpetual dark shadows under his eyes looked vivid in contrast to his sallow skin. He looked awful. She felt a deep pang of sympathy for the man. Was he unable to sleep because of nightmares? Or was his head too full of worry and wonderings as well?
Oh.
She still hadn't answered him. They were just staring at each other. Was he studying her appearance as she was with his? She really should say something.
"I couldn't sleep sir." Hermione said, proud of how steady her voice was.
"That much is obvious. Why are you not in bed?" He drawled, his voice soft in the quiet of the night.
"I'd been lying there for so long, there didn't seem much point staying in bed sir. My head was too full for the dormitories."
"Your head was too full for the dormitories?" He smirked at her. She found she didn't mind.
"Yes sir. I was just thinking about all that's happened. The Death Eaters, the Dark Mark, Bertha Jorkins going miss-" She stopped abruptly. When she'd mentioned the Dark Mark her Professor's right hand had immediately grabbed his left forearm and she'd seen the panic on his face. Her brain was trying to tell her something.
Oh.
The Death Eaters were branded with the Dark Mark … on their left forearms.
Oh.
She looked up at him once more, her gaze had been fixed on his arm, and he was looking back at her, every bit as defiant as when he'd been getting royally drunk.
Oh.
She should be terrified. She was alone in the middle of the night with a Death Eater. She was muggleborn. But Professor Snape wouldn't hurt her. She knew it. She didn't know how she knew it but she just did. He wouldn't hurt her. And anyway, Dumbledore knew everything; he must know Snape was a Death Eater. He employed him anyway. He trusted him.
"Moody coming out of retirement and now Harry has to compete in the Triwizard Tournament." She finished, not taking her eyes off his face. He visibly relaxed. Why was he less scary when she was alone with him?
"Something very bad is going to happen, isn't it?" She asked him, and all the uncertainty and desperation and the need for answers from someone, anyone who might actually have a clue about what was going on came crashing down on her like a physical weight.
He was just staring at her, his expression not angry, or overtly negative, but other than that unfathomable. She stared right back, willing him to give her a straight answer. He sighed and sank to the ground in front of her. It was such an utterly un-Snape-ish thing to do she had to force herself not to gape at him. Professor Snape was sitting on the floor with her.
What? Her mind thought incoherently.
"Miss Granger." Snape said, forcing her to concentrate. "I should be putting you in detention, taking a huge amount of house points and marching you straight to Professor McGonagall."
She paled.
"However … I can … understand why you are unable to sleep. I will answer your question as honestly as I can on one condition. You seem to have made a certain … realisation about me, about my past. Rumours which are based on no actual evidence are easily denied, however, it would make my life somewhat easier if I didn't have a school full of ignorant dunderheads making wild accusations-"
"I won't say anything Professor," she dared to interrupt, wanting to take this rare opportunity to reassure him, wishing he could trust her even a fraction as much as she trusted him, "not even to Harry and Ron." She doubted she would have said anything to the boys anyway; she loved them, but they hated Professor Snape enough already, she had no intention to be the reason his life became a nightmare as it undoubtedly would, if over 600 hundred students thought he was a Death Eater. Knew he was Death Eater. He is a Death Eater. Was a Death Eater? Dumbledore trusts him. She had a hundred questions she wanted to ask him but daren't push her luck. Why was he treating her like this? Had he expected her to go screaming to the Headmaster?
"Very well." His expression had slipped into one of distain at the mention of her friends but now looked rather more neutral. He looked much better neutral.
"We, that is, myself, Dumbledore and some of the other teachers here, believe that, as you say 'something very bad is going to happen' yes. That does not mean that it concerns you however. We are aware of the signs and we are prepared."
Her whole world was spinning. Confirmation of her fears. Something very bad was going to happen. Snape was a Death Eater.
"You-Know-Who?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"It appears likely." He answered, his voice was its usual calm, deep tones but she thought she caught a glimpse of unease, and maybe even fear around his eyes.
"He'll return?"
"We always knew he would return."
"Yes sir."
They lapsed into a silence that wasn't totally uncomfortable. Hermione rather got the impression he was giving her time to process what she'd learnt. Why he was being so … cordial … at least for Snape was a mystery.
Oh.
"Sir, when he returns, will you run or will you go back to him?" She gasped. She saw his momentary look of hurt, rapidly followed by fury and quickly continued. "For Professor Dumbledore I mean sir?"
He stared at her again, a crease between his brows.
"You ask too many questions." He answered shortly.
"I'm an insufferable know-it-all sir." She replied, feeling a smile creeping onto her face; this was probably the weirdest moment of her life.
"Yes you are." His voice held no malice and she couldn't help herself. She smiled at him. She smiled despite all that had happened, all that she had learnt about him and all that was to come. He was a Death Eater, but she didn't hate him. She trusted him. Dumbledore trusted him.
He'd been watching her looking just as entirely bewildered as she felt. Then the exhaustion kicked in and her smile became a gaping yawn that left her feeling dead on her feet. When she opened her tired eyes again, Snape was back on his feet looking every bit the terrifying Potions Professor.
"Get to bed this instant Miss Granger. 5 points from Gryffindor." He snapped.
She nearly started grinning at him like an idiot again for taking such a small number of points for such a large offence. Hermione walked softly back to her bed feeling dazed by the whole encounter. God that man was confusing.
Thanks for reading! Hope they both still seem in character. Snape won't be going all soft on us don't worry but in this scene, his slight guilt over what he said to Hermione in combination with his tiredness and stress allowed him to be a little nicer.
Has Snape redeemed himself? Hmmm.
I'd also briefly like to thank those who have reviewed anonymously or as guests - I can't respond individually but thank you so much for your feedback. And to everyone, reviews are the most exciting things ever so thanks to all who take the time!
*text between these things* from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.
