Castaways on a Sullen Sea
By weasleywheezes
Chapter 12– Better of the Two
Hermione had changed into a pair of khaki trousers and a thin sweater. She pulled her hair back with a ribbon. Staring at herself in the mirror, she realized that she looked a lot older than she did only a few months ago. She rubbed at her eyes, subconsciously trying to sweep away the black circles underneath them.
Gromnett rapped politely on her door. "Miss, would you like to attend to the herb gardens now?"
Hermione answered that she would, and together they walked outside to the gardens. Gromnett took great interest in each and every plant.
"This is lemongrass. See how tall and spiky it is? And this is sweet basil. And over there is peppermint. I love peppermint. Would you like some to chew on, miss?" he said as he cut a sprig off and tucked it in his cheek.
"No, I'm not really a fan of fresh mint," Hermione said. She looked around the garden, which was well taken care of despite the way the rest of the grounds looked. She knelt to look at the lavender plants, which were quite fragrant. "Do you take care of all the garden spaces, Gromnett?"
"Oh no, miss. I only tend to the herbs, sometimes the lawn, but mostly the garden. I grow all the herbs I cook with. Mr. Snape prefers it that way. Are you sure you wouldn't like any mint?" he said as he walked by a large patch of spearmint.
"Who cares for the trees?"
"Mr. Snape does, miss. Sir is always surrounded by his trees."
Hermione took a deep breath. She liked this garden and its freshness, its earthliness. Gromnett had an eye for garden design, certainly, but she couldn't take her eyes off the trees. They were meticulously pruned and cared for.
At the edge of the garden, Hermione and Gromnett waited for Snape, who was casually strolling down a flagstone path. Hermione was surprised at the way he was dressed. He wore grey flannel pants and a fisherman's sweater, also in grey. It made him look less pale than the normal black clothing, but he still looked relatively sallow.
"Miss Granger, may I escort you to my arboretum?" Severus held his hand out to the girl.
Hermione blushed slightly. It seemed rather romantic; a walk in a garden with such a sophisticated man, then she realized that it was Professor Snape she was walking with. Her heart was still torn with the dichotomy of her feelings for him – love and fear, and the fear of loving him. She slowly approached him and slipped her arm into his. Together, the teacher and his former pupil began to walk down the path.
"Gromnett tells me that you take care of these trees yourself. They are beautiful," Hermione began.
"You like trees?"
"Yes, particularly this specimen. When they blaze, there is no better show of nature's beauty."
Severus looked at the girl admirably. "Yes, beauty."
Hermione turned toward him. She saw in his eyes a subtle longing, for what she wasn't sure. "Professor…"
"I have asked you once to please call me Severus. I will not ask again."
"Severus," the name felt alien to her tongue, "I would like to talk about what happened."
The professor looked as though a heavy weight had landed squarely on his shoulders. He took a deep breath and looked her directly in the eyes. "We've been over this already…"
Hermione interjected him. "I mean, what happened between us. In the dungeon. Don't you remember?"
Don't you remember? He could scarcely forget. He took hold of her hand. "It was the attempt of a foolish old man to try and regain some virility, nothing more."
"You're not an old man, and you're certainly not foolish."
"Headstrong, tempestuous girl!" Severus growled. "You don't know what I am!"
"Then what are you?" Hermione bellowed. The force of her words shocked Severus. He dropped her hand and began to walk swiftly towards the house. Hermione followed close behind.
"I asked you a question."
"And I told you what I am, but it's not my problem if you want to deny it."
Hermione trotted up beside him and grabbed his elbow. "Deny? You're one to talk about denial…"
Severus interrupted her. "See this mark on my arm?" he rolled his sleeve up and showed her the Dark Mark, "This mark will always be with me. I cannot deny that. I cannot deny what I've done. I am not proud, but to reject it is to reject myself, and I cannot do that. Do I wish I had done things differently? Every day, but there is nothing I can do about it.
"Will there ever be a day where I don't wake up in the morning and feel the surge of pain rushing through my body, the memories of what I've seen, what I've experienced, what I've been a party to not coming to my mind? When will I finally be able to live a normal life without fear of being hunted down by vengeful people hell bent on destroying all those old Death Eaters? Never! I can never be safe, I can never be free, even if Voldemort dies, and not just because of this mark on my skin, but because of the mark on my soul!"
Hermione's hand softly touched the skin around the Dark Mark. Severus winced. With a finger on her chin, he brought her face up and looked into her eyes. It seemed to be a repeat of their encounter in the dungeon, completed when Hermione's eyes welled with tears, a few of them splashing from her eyelashes onto her nose. She sniffed. Severus caressed her face.
"Do you understand what I meant?" he said tenderly.
She wiped her face with a backhanded swipe. "Yes, but I don't understand what this has to do with me."
"This is no kind of life for you, Hermione."
"What would you prefer, Severus? That I return to an empty, lonely house with no one to care for me? At least you have Gromnett," she said petulantly.
Severus looked at the sullen girl. He understood what she was going through; still he knew what his convictions said. "You have Potter, you have young Weasley. You aren't alone."
"Why am I here, then?"
Severus shook his head, his hair swaying in front of his eyes. "We need to investigate your mother's death to see if it's related to Voldemort. If it is, you are in danger. Regardless, you need protection during this time in your life. The right type of protection."
Hermione's back stiffened. "And the Weasley family is not the right type of protection?"
"Silly child. That's not what I meant…"
"I know exactly what you meant! The Death Eater doesn't fall far from the tree. You probably think of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley like Lucius Malfoy does…"
"Don't you dare speak of Malfoy in this house!" Severus raged.
Hermione's eyes were wild, almost daring Severus to stop her. "I do whatever the hell I want! Malfoy! Malfoy! Malfoy!"
Before either one of them knew exactly what had happened, Severus delivered a stinging blow to her face. Neither one spoke a word, but it was understood that both were apologetic. Hermione choked back the tears and walked away, leaving a stunned Severus in the grove of trees.
---
Dinner was a subdued affair; Hermione ate her dinner in the kitchens with Gromnett while Severus took his meal in the dining room. Hermione picked at her confit of duck and played with the braised carrots on her plate.
"What's the matter, miss? Is my cooking not to your liking?" Gromnett asked.
"No, Gromnett, it's delicious. I'm just not particularly hungry right now."
Gromnett bit into a roasted potato. "Oh! Did miss and Mr. Snape have a row?" he inquired, small bits of potato flying across the table.
Hermione smiled. "You could say that."
The house-elf finished his potato and washed it down with a drink of water. He asked if Hermione was finished with her meal, then took both plates to the sink.
"If you'll excuse me, miss, I need to attend to Mr. Snape now."
"Wait, Gromnett…could you let Mr. Snape know that I would like to speak with him after our meal?" Hermione smiled politely. The house-elf nodded and shuffled into the other room.
She sat in the dim kitchen, wondering how she let the moment slip away from her. The mood had gone from good-natured to sour, and it was all her fault. If she wouldn't have taunted Severus, would he have slapped her? She doubted that he would. It was foolish of her, childish, really; a screaming tantrum would not endear her to her host.
What was it about Malfoy that angered Severus to that degree? Was it because of their childhood? She thought it was Harry's dad, James Potter, that Snape hated, which was why he hated Harry so much. The animosity had not lessened between the two, which was why her being at Snape's manor was all the more surprising. Hermione was Harry's friend, an extension of him, and thus being sheltered by Snape seemed curious.
The house-elf returned to the kitchen, carrying the remnants of Severus' dinner. It appeared that he, too, had lost his appetite. "Sir is expecting you in the study, miss," he said.
Hermione paused in front of the window. She could see her reflection in the pane. She smoothed her hair and wondered if she looked appropriate. Gromnett walked over to her and pulled on her pants leg.
"Miss…you look fine. In fact, I am sure Mr. Snape won't mind what you look like, miss."
Hermione smiled. Gromnett reminded her of Dobby, the house-elf friend of Harry's who had worked for the Malfoy family. She wondered if he and Dobby were acquaintances. She opened her mouth to ask Gromnett that question, but was interrupted by the house-elf.
"Oh, miss, hurry! Mr. Snape hates idleness!" Gromnett pushed her toward the door, his hands against the small of her back.
Severus sat in one of the shabby chairs that flanked the fireplace; his back was turned away from the door. He wondered what he would say to Hermione, and what she would say to him. He hadn't had an argument with a woman he was interested in since the early 1980's – times had changed, and so had he. He heard the heavy wooden door creak.
"Good evening, Hermione."
"Hello, S-s-Severus." She sounded vulnerable.
He rapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. "My house-elf tells me you would like to speak with me. Go on," he said tersely.
"I wanted to apologize for…for what I did," Hermione rushed the words out, as if she were trying to get the conversation out of the way.
"I see."
"Would you consider forgiving me?"
Severus grimaced. Forgiveness was an alien concept to him, but he must try, for her sake. "Perhaps."
He could hear her sigh. "I deserve that. I'm sorry. I am a guest in your home, and I should abide by your rules."
Severus smiled slightly. Hermione melted all resistance away, as much as he hated to admit it. It was so very Gryffindor of her to do exactly what she was doing. "Hermione, let's not speak of this again. Please remember, in the future, that we do not speak of the Malfoys in this house. That is the only thing that's off limits to you."
Hermione moved closer toward his chair, her face flushed with embarrassment. He turned towards her and looked her in the eye. "This house is yours until such time that it's deemed safe for you to return to your own home, and I hope that Gromnett…and I…make you comfortable," he began.
"Thank you," she said, as she sat in the chair opposite him and began taking off her socks.
The two sat in reflective quiet as the fire crackled and popped, filling the room with a warmth that sank into their bones. Hermione sat cross-legged in the chair, reading an old book she had found in Severus' study. Severus, by contrast, sat staring into the fire. Gromnett came in with two mugs of steaming hot cider and bid his master farewell as he was retiring to bed. Severus broke the silence first.
"You are an only child."
Hermione looked up from the book, her eyes painted with the blue-black of exhaustion. "Yes. My parents never wanted any children. I was unplanned, but my father said I was a gift."
"They treated you well?"
"Of course. They are…were my parents. Everything they did was for my good. They loved me."
Severus ran his fingers through his hair. "When you were accepted to Hogwarts, how did they feel? Were they afraid?" He asked the question delicately.
"My mother was, for a while at least. My father was thrilled. 'Just think, Maris! A witch, in our home!' He thought it was novel. Mum warmed up to the idea when she realized that I wouldn't be sacrificing things in the backyard." Hermione stifled a laugh.
Severus blew on his cup of cider, took a few swallows. "What exactly happened to your father, if you don't mind?"
Hermione yawned and rubbed her temples lightly. "My dad accidentally electrocuted himself. He walked outside on the wet grass and stepped on a wire going to the garden lights. I watched him die."
Severus could hear her sigh, and instantly wished he had not asked that question. "Do you wish you had siblings?"
"I have Harry and Ron." Severus flinched upon hearing her answer. "They are the most devoted friends anyone could have. I would be lost without them."
He cleared his throat. "Yet they aren't your brothers."
They lapsed back into silence, punctuated by a few soft yawns. Severus looked towards Hermione's chair, watching her read while rubbing the sleep from her eyes. There had been many times when he sat in that very chair, reading, hungering knowledge more than rest, fighting the sleep would give him tangible nightmares. Hermione Granger was more like him than she knew, the better of the two, in his opinion.