Disclaimer: It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.

A/N: Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! : :hugs: :


Chapter 12: Realizations

The time spent at the potions labs of the French "Ministere" were nice, even if they had nothing new to show in terms of improvement to the British ways. Hermione had contributed with some suggestions, many of them learned from Professor Snape, and the infuriating wizard had invaded her mind several times that day.

At lunch, the witch responsible for the potions used by the Aurors in France, Potions Mistress Caroline Bessette, made it even more difficult to try to forget Snape.

"Miss Granger, I understand that you took Potion classes with Master Severus Snape, oui?"

"Yes, for five years, madam."

"Tell me, is he really that brilliant? His fame in the field is filled with much rumor, I'm afraid. It's hard to take the truth from the fantasy."

Hermione made good use of the time she had to chew her food and drink some mineral water to consider her answer. "He's brilliant," she simply said, which was true enough.

Madam Bessette wasn't interested in how exasperating the man was, or how little he thought of everybody, or even how Hermione didn't want to talk about him if she couldn't vent about all those things.

"There are rumors that many of the potions used by Voldemort were created by him. Some even say he kept the monster alive with them." Madam Bessette tried to disguise how interested she was about the answer, but Hermione knew better. "I suppose those are legends, too," the witch added.

"No, no. It's all true. Professor Snape was Voldemort's Potions Master and kept that monster alive with his potions." Hermione felt some delight in bashing the man for once, but it was short-lived. Watching the horror in Madam Bessette's face, she amended, "He was also responsible for creating the antidotes for those potions and helping Dumbledore survive for almost a year before his death. It's not widely known, but Albus Dumbledore was dying of a curse before..." Hermione realized what she was about to say and let her voice trailed off.

There was silence after Hermione's statement. Apparently, Madam Bessette was well aware of how that phrase ended. They ate quietly for some minutes until Hermione's need to defend Snape took over again.

"Professor Snape is a good man at heart. He can be rude, but he was always completely loyal to Dumbledore and Harry after his remorse over joining the wrong side. He was brilliant then and he's brilliant now in everything he devotes himself to. When he's working on a potion, his full attention and power is committed to it. It's almost hypnotic to watch."

Madam Bessette was observing her hesitantly. Before she could ask anything, Hermione continued, "Wars change people, and Professor Snape was in the center of two of them. He made mistakes he deeply regretted, I'm sure, but we all did, and he'd redeemed himself with all the help he gave to us. Severus Snape is a hero, if an unorthodox one."

Hermione smiled warmly and realized it was sincere. That seemed to have an effect on Madam Bessette, who attempted a smile of her own.

"Dark heroes are most appealing, don't you think? I've seen pictures of him and I have to confess that I was intrigued in many ways. I've read that he'd made many sacrifices for love. It's tragically romantic. I wonder if he's available."

Hermione choked on her water. "Why would anyone be interested in that?" she asked when she'd recovered.

"Perhaps you're too young to appreciate how sexy such men can be." Madam Bessette chuckled.

They were interrupted by the need to return to work, but that bizarre conversation tormented Hermione all afternoon, and she was still very much aware of their conversation when she read the letter that had been awaiting her that evening.

Miss Granger,

This is getting nowhere. Either you're satisfied with the answers I give you or we'll play this game until your fancy is met. I'm not interest in wasting my life trying to convince you that what I tell is the truth.

Would it change anything if I told you the ring you cherish so much was the Dark Lord's? What if I confirm that it was his ring, what would you do? Would you believe me, then? The owner is not you and that's all you need to know.

Just tell me what you want the truth to be and I'll put it down into parchment and ink just for you. I don't have time for games, Miss Granger.

Severus Snape

She'd read and reread those words and yet they didn't seem to mean what they say. Every single word screamed "The ring is mine, it's important to me, I need it, give it back, please!"

Hermione looked at the Claddagh Ring around her right thumb and felt a new contentment in wearing it. It made no sense, but she wanted to let Snape know that his ring was safe with her, that it was important to her, and that knowing that the ring was also important to him made it even more special.

It made Snape special.

She laughed at herself, but it was true. After almost a month of continued communication, she felt as if she was part of his life and he part of hers, and having his ring with her – a Claddagh Ring – made sense. Maybe she was homesick, but that was how she felt. Maybe it was insane, but her conversation with Madam Bessette earlier had ignited a new desire in Hermione; she wanted to see that passionate Snape, Lily's Snape, the man who owned a Claddagh Ring and cherished it.

Having no other thought in mind, Hermione wrote a short answer and sent it through the rented owl she'd been using to communicate with Snape. It was Friday and she would be back in London by tomorrow afternoon. It was time for Christmas and also for this suspense to end.


Coming next… Snape weights the pros and cons of a meeting with Hermione.