A/N: So here we have more than usual interaction between them. But I can't promise this is exactly what you expect... Heehee ^_^ (I'm truly wicked) And there are going to be some "discoveries" made by our Know-It-All. Enjoy!
Chapter 10: Apple Does Not Fall Far From The Tree?
Several days passed in the monotony. And monotony was comfortable.
Hermione's part-time job at the small bakery kept her busy for most part. She had started spending some of her spare time after her shift at the bakery with Mr. Mallard at his bookstore. The man was a voracious reader himself and Hermione quite enjoyed discussing different reads with him. That kept her out of Snape's dreary house for another hour.
She returned to the house preferably after Eight and had dinner in the guest room. The only interaction she had with the man was limited to the obligatory thirty minutes that she spent in the kitchen, having breakfast, and doing the other 'duties'.
Madam Pomfrey had written to her with another list of books for her to read. But Hermione had no idea how to order those books as she did not have an owl. So when Harry had written to her, she had requested Hedwig to fly to Flourish and Blotts for her. It was then that she had finally written to him after ignoring a bunch of his letters. Similar unopened letters from Ron, too, found themselves in closed drawers. Hermione did not feel like interacting with anyone from the Wizarding World for a while and wanted to embrace the Muggles until she was ready.
When an owl from Flourish and Blotts had delivered her books to her, Hermione felt glad that she would again have something to keep her occupied. She had hoped for Hogwarts to send the list of new books for her Sixth year, but she knew it wouldn't come until the end of July at least, which still had about couple of weeks left.
She liked to keep herself as busy as possible, and as tired as she could by the end of the day, so she would not wallow in the flashes of once beautiful, now tainted, memories of her home-life.
It was on one such night after a long day that Snape had knocked on her door. Hermione, who had almost dozed off, was startled. With some apprehension, she opened the door, only enough to peek out, being in her nightgown and all...
"Miss Granger, I haves been summoned," the man said impassively, yet with a touch of haste. "There are wards around the house, that extend to ten kilometres around the neighbourhood. I would advise you do not leave the house until I return, which could be by the early hours of morning."
It was then that Hermione noticed the mask that the man was holding. A surge of anger soared through her body. "Fine." With that terse acknowledgment to his words, she closed the door with a thud!
She kept standing right by the door until she heard the footsteps retreating and the loud crack of Apparition resounding from the living room.
Hermione then made herself comfortable on the bed again, beside Crookshanks, and drifted off.
UUUUUU
He is hurt!
Hermione woke up with a start, bolting up. Her heart was pounding and sweat beads clung to her forehead. She was almost shaking.
She ran the back of her hand over her forehead, sitting back. The knowledge was fresh in her mind—he was in pain. Vaguely, she had been aware of a litany of unnamed curses he was subjected to. That knowledge had dawned on her in her sleep, waking her up.
Hermione looked out of the window. It was still dark. She checked the wrist watch that Snape had given her—it was around Three Thirty in the morning. She creeped to the door, putting her ear to it but heard nothing.
Hermione opened the door and stepped out. Creeping to the stairs, she waited, straining her ears. Still, nothing. Maybe, Snape wasn't back yet. But he was, indeed, in pain, she knew. The knowledge hung at the back of her head like a strong instinct.
Hermione went inside the room to retrieve her wand, just in case... Clutching it tightly in her hand, she made her way down, dimly aware that she had not bothered to wear her night robe over her light blue nightgown. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she could hear laboured breathing coming from the living room. Snape was there.
Suddenly feeling very exposed in the eeriness of the house, she decided to go back to the room. All of a sudden, she started wondering what actually possessed her to even check if the man was back safe or not.
But he was hurt.
Maybe, she would just take a look, only to satisfy her curiosity whether the knowledge was only her imagination or it held any veracity.
So, Hermione quietly passed by the kitchen and looked into the living room. It was mostly dark, except a small Muggle bulb that was still lit. Snape was sitting, doubled over himself. His breaths were coming in rasps. But if he was injured, she couldn't see it.
"Sir?" Hermione approached him with hesitation.
"Granger!" It was almost a growl, but Hermione wasn't sure if it was in anger or pain.
"You're unwell, Sir," she felt foolish stating the obvious. Had Snape not been in that much pain, he would have surely passed a sarcastic comment at that. "I will call Madam Pomfrey." She turned towards the hearth to Floo-call the Medi-witch.
"No!" He cut sharply. "Poppy isn't available."
"Oh," she stopped. The awkwardness was thick in the air. Yet, she decided it would be extremely inhumane to leave him suffering.
"Can I...get you some water, Sir?" Hermione asked, standing in front of him, wand still in her grip, so tight that her knuckles were going white.
"No!" He was still doubled over, clutching his torso. He spoke with gritted teeth.
Hermione knew it was not a normal spasm that sometimes affected him. It was more like...an after effect of Cruciatus? Yes, that was right. She had read about it in brief.
Her eyes caught sight of a small vial on the coffee table, blue-green liquid inside it. It was half-filled and uncorked. Hermione picked it up and sniffed it—the contents were mostly that of a Pain Reliever. but it was a modified version.
"Sir, I think you should drink the entire dose," she offered him the vial. But Snape did not reply, his breaths still coming in harshly.
For a moment, she thought he was asleep. Hermione slowly crouched before him, on the floor. "Sir?"
An incomprehensible growl told her that he was listening. "Here," she offered the vial again. But Snape made no efforts to take it. His arms were pinned to his torso as he was bent over himself. His face was covered by the curtain of his black hair, and not much was visible in the little light of the bulb.
As she moved a bit closer to him, still kneeling, dread struck her cold. She could smell the metallic, acrid stench of blood.
He was more injured than she had suspected.
Hermione jumped to her feet and rushed to switch the lights on. That earned her another groan that came out like a growl.
When she saw the man, a cold chill ran down her spine. His robe was clinging to his back. It was wet, but being black, she was not sure if it was blood or sweat or just water. She wished it was the latter.
"Professor?" She tried again, but to no avail. For all her ambition to become a Healer, she had never treated an injured man alone. But at least she wasn't panicking.
The half-filled vial was still clutched in her hand, along with her wand. The man needed to drink it. She was forced to wonder how a certified Healer would have handled the situation. Madam Pomfrey had told her to be calm with her patients, didn't she? Hermione went back to his side, but he did not give any sign of acknowledgement. With some hesitation, she reached for his shoulder gingerly. That very slightly made him flinch, but she surmised it was in surprise, not pain.
Hermione tried to push the man into a sitting position in order to give him the potion. But he weighed heavier than she had expected. She kept the vial and her wand—which was apparently useless as she could not use it—on the coffee table. Then she clutched both his shoulders and with considerable efforts, somehow managed to push him up, against the the back of the chair. If his back was bleeding, it would be excruciatingly painful, she realised. So Hermione quickly slipped one arm around his shoulders before he could hit the backrest. Her arm struggled to bear his weight but she was determined not to let go.
Snape's eyes were half-lidded, almost closed in fact. His head was lolling against Hermione's arm. That was when she saw the blood on his forehead, a spectacle on his otherwise white face.
She gasped. The blood was trailing down his temples to the side of his face. Hermione could feel coldness settling in the pit of her stomach. She had never really seen anyone quite so injured or in pain... Harry had often managed to get himself locked up in Hospital Wing after his Quidditch matches, but not like that, not after losing consciousness in pain. She had once seen Ron bleeding heavily, after the debacle at the Shrieking Shack, but even then he had been better than the man...
Pushing those thoughts aside, she dragged the coffee table towards herself with her foot. Hermione bent and picked the vial up again.
"Sir, please open your mouth," she requested softly, yet loud enough for him to hear. When he did not respond, she put the vial to his lips. "Please, Sir, open your mouth."
His hand came up to snatch at hers roughly. Hermione gasped at the suddenness of his movements. Snape grabbed her hand in his grip, while the glass vial was still in her curled fingers. His eyes opened and he suddenly jerked as he set his eyes on her face. His grip became fierce on her hand. Hermione hissed in pain, certain that she would have bruises.
His other hand suddenly fished his wand out from wherever he had hid it, and Hermione felt the cold tip digging into the tender flesh of her exposed neck. The man was staring at her with his eyes almost opaque, with no cognisance whatsoever.
Hermione gasped. She realised that she was trembling and her breaths were coming in shudders as she gazed down at the man. Hermione retrieved her other arm from around his shoulders and clutched his sleeve-covered wrist, the one that held the wand at her throat.
"P-Professor..." She could only whisper. But his eyes looked dead—closed and dead. Black orbs that did not reflect light. They only gave away a sense of bleakness, cold bleakness.
Suddenly, Hermione cried in pain as the potion vial broke in her hand that Snape was clutching. The shards dug into her hand sharply, as the loss of the girth of the vial only resulted in tightening of the man's grip on her hand. The liquid and her blood rolled down her hand and wrist, seeping into the the sleeve of her nightgown.
"Let me go!" Hermione shrieked, trying to pull her hand away from her, having forgotten the threat of the wand on her throat when agony overpowered fear.
That cry seemed to have woken Snape from wherever he was lost, she watched life coming back to his eyes, along with awareness. His hand quickly left hers and he withdrew his wand as well. Hermione cradled her abused hand to her chest. The palm was covered in blood and pieces of glass, while the back of her hand bore bruises from his fingers.
"Damn it!" She vaguely heard the man curse. As he climbed to his feet, Hermione unconsciously took a step back. She watched him stumble a bit before he held the backrest of the chair he was sitting on.
"Miss Granger-"
Hermione's mind was hardly in a state to form words. The pain and shock were still making her tremble in a way that she was not familiar with. She grabbed her wand from the coffee table with her good hand, still not able to register what had actually happened.
She ceased to look at the man and his dead eyes. "Your-your potion..." Hermione did not know what she was blabbering. "Another vial... It's broken..."
She could barely register much, only that the man was still in pain and she had broken the vial. Also, a stray thought was telling her that she could never use her hand again.
Hermione could not recall how she ended up in the guest room, leaning against the closed door, still cradling her hand to her chest, leaving a trail of bloodstains.
She closed her eyes, letting her head take support of the wood. She took deep breaths, realising that she was not completely aware of the amount of pain she was in. The flashes of those dead eyes sent shivers down her spine. As if they held nothing, an empty nothingness.
Was that how death looked like?
Hermione slowly slid down to the floor, bringing her knees to her chest, pinning her injured hand between her chest and knees.
Was that how her parents' eyes had looked?
She closed her eyes tight, shaking her head.
The remnants of the scene assaulted her mind. She had never been more disconcerted than seeing Snape's eyes today. They were devoid of life, like when somebody died but the eyelids remained open. He had looked at her but did not see her. His actions were mechanical, as if he was trained to raise a wand to anyone who came too close.
She wanted to 'unsee' that horrible image.
Slowly, very slowly, Hermione's breath evened out. She looked at her hand and gasped. As if one cue, a sharp pain seared her battered flesh.
Black hollow, her mind suddenly gave a name to what she had seen. It was black hollow. And she never wanted to see it again.
She looked at her wand that was lying on the floor, useless. She could not use it... She needed to clean the wounds, pry the glass shards away, and then disinfect it. But there was no Muggle or Wizarding first-aid kit that she knew of...
Suddenly, she knew that at some point, Snape's pain had somewhat subsided. It made her shudder—she did not want to be linked to the man like that.
She did not know what to make of all of it... Snape had been injured. She had done more damage than helping. But in that moment, Hermione could not conjure her hatred for him—he was only someone in pain. Like a patient. Somebody who needed help. Just some stranger. Not her parents' killer. Perhaps, it was those instincts for which she wanted to become a Healer. She had read that Healing Charms needed some level of intention, too, to heal the one in front of you.
A soft knock on the door, right behind her, startled Hermione.
"Miss Granger?"
Hermione flinched at his voice. She slowly got to her feet, pushing herself against the door. She did not know what she was supposed to do. She needed to make her way to the lavatory in order to clean her wounds and she could maybe find a potion or two inside the mirror cabinet. But she could not face the man, not so soon after seeing those eyes...
"Miss Granger," he knocked again. Snape was sounding a bit impatient now. "I need to look at your injuries. Open the door. Please."
The 'please' was forceful. Every time the man said it, it sounded as if it burned his tongue to roll the word out.
"I can look after myself," she called, not too loud due to exhaustion.
"Miss Granger," he snarled, "Do not be stubborn and open the door. At once."
Suddenly , any trace of fear was replaced by anger that surged in her for the second time that night. He had the audacity to command her! "I said, I can look after myself. You don't need to- Argh!"
Hermione recoiled, her knees buckling under her, bringing her to the floor. Her third finger burned, as if it had been placed on a scathing burner. Unfortunately, it was the same battered hand that was already bearing with the unnatural agony.
"Granger!" The thundering on the door told her that Snape had heard her already. She was certain that Professor McGonagall's spell was barring his entrance.
Hermione was biting her lip hard to keep from crying out as the burning exacerbated. In the midst of all the blood, she could not even see her targeted finger clearly. Tears pricked her eyes as the burning started to spread through the other fingers, making its way down her knuckles.
"Granger! Open the door, girl!" Snape was pounding on the wood. Then, suddenly, the lock clicked and the supposedly Charmed door was pushed open.
Hermione, who was still on the floor, leaning against the bed, forgot the pain for a moment as shock surpassed it. How can Snape breach Professor McGonagall's wards!
The man stood in the doorway, wearing a deep scowl on his face. The blood on his forehead and temples was gone, yet he looked paler than usual. But at least, the dead, opaqueness in his eyes was eliminated.
"You, daft girl!" He growled. "Do you wish to lose a hand!"
"Get out!" Hermione shrieked. She did not try to get to her feet for she knew she would stumble—which would be a sign of weakness. "How did you breach the wards-" But her words were interrupted by the ever spreading burn. Hermione hissed in pain, trying to fleck her fingers but that was only making the matters worse.
Then it struck her. The bond! The ring that was concealed by the Glamour, on her third finger.
Snape had taken advantage of the bond!
"You, pathetic man!" She hissed from between her teeth. "You have finally stooped low enough to use that deplorable bond to your benefits!"
Snape's scowl transformed into a frown. "What are you blabbering about!"
"The door!" Hermione spat. "Quit pretending! I have seen far too much of you!"Hermione involuntarily winced as her entire hand began burning. All nerve endings was emitting fire, only one could not see it. "Take it back. Take the order back, Snape, or-"
"You do not need to open the door, Miss Granger. If you do not feel upto it." The words were hastily said. For the man who relished in annoying people with his drawls, they were said too swiftly. But they had an effect, a small bit. The worst edge of the burning abated immediately. Hermione could still feel her hand burning, but not as if it was on fire.
"Did it work?" He asked, studying her.
Perhaps, he was afraid that she would report his actions to the Headmaster. His cover would be blown the minute Professor Dumbledore got the wind of who Snape truly was.
"Get out!" She spat. "Just get out of my sight!"
"You need medical attention-"
"Don't you dare command me again." Hermione hissed. "One more command, Snape, and the word will travel to the Headmaster."
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, spare me the Gryffindor theatrics, Granger!" He roared in exasperation. "Your exsanguinating hand will not heal itself, and believe me, I have no intentions of spending the rest of my holidays at St. Mungo's, with a comatose patient!"
"I know the basics of healing," she argued, feeling quite foolish. The shards in her flesh will only be removed by a wand, but she could not use hers... "Fine. Just remove the shards." She said as coldly as she could.
He clenched and uncleaned his fist in what Hermione surmised to be an anger management mechanism. But it was clearly of not much help as Snape's otherwise impassive face only seemed to hold fury. He took his wand out. "Show me your hand." It was another order, but then he added, "Please." Forceful again.
She held out her bleeding hand to him, cradling it with her good hand. Still sitting on the floor, she watched how Snape wordlessly began releasing the shards from her She suddenly understood why he seemed to add that word after almost everything he said to her. Was he doing it because of the Headmaster? Surely, Snape could not be so considerate, she told herself. Snape relished in hurting and killing and- But he was healing her hand without Hermione asking for help. That, too, though could be because of the Headmaster, couldn't it?
The back of her mind was a bit surprised when the job was done with gentleness that was in contrast with the man.
Soon, no more edges were hurting her. Then with another wave of his wand, the blood was cleaned, too. But the wounds were still gaping, small beads of blood forming again.
"That's all." She said callously, grabbing her hand back. "Get out," she whispered because she was too perplexed to find anything else to say.
His expressions darkened. "You are an absolute fool, girl. No better than that simpleminded Potter, what with all your supposed intellect."
That worked to rattle Hermione out of her puzzlement. She pushed herself to her feet. Standing tall, as tall as she could and holding her head high, "I don't think it wise to consider a certified Death Eater's opinion of my character."
That earned her a contemptuous scowl. But Hermione was quite sated with putting the man at unease. He spun on his heels, seemingly with nothing to counter that, and stalked out of the door in a moment.
Of course, she told herself, it was because of the Headmaster.
UUUUUU
As soon as Severus had returned to the living room, begrudgingly so, he heard the bathroom door opening and closing. He had stored some of the basic potions and such supplies in a cabinet, a habit that he had picked from his Muggle upbringing—mostly Muggle upbringing.
At least, he hoped, the girl was not daft enough to leave the wounds gaping. Well, she wouldn't. Hermione Granger was many things but daft—that Severus had come to terms with in the first year of teaching her. For a Gryffindor, she had the brains of a Ravenclaw. But when mingled with the stupidity in the honour of her house, she did become insufferably obstinate.
Who had asked her to leave the safety of her bedroom and come and involve herself in a matter that was clearly not hers to deal with? What was the girl even thinking, for Merlin's sake! Trying to help him with potions! Did all Gryffindors find it suitable to bury their noses where they clearly did not belong!
Severus had never reacted well to anybody's presence right after a summoning, or even right after waking up from a semi-unconscious state of mind. Reflexes. They were reflexes that kicked in. Years of being a spy did have their consequences, while mostly meritorious, could just as well bring harm to others. His reflexes had him Occluding forcefully in his infirm state, just in case the Dark Lord or a Death Eater had caught him in that condition. A spy could never afford to leave his mind unguarded. Thud, he had developed that reflex.
Every time he had gone to Poppy after a summoning, he had at least been subconsciously aware of what to expect. But Granger! Severus had never been accustomed to have people around, Granger's presence had not been registered in his pain-raking mind.
But that did nothing to deny that he had crossed every line. This day, he became his Father's true son in every context and connotation. He was a killer, a tormentor, a rapist, and a domestic abuser.
Congratulations, Severus. Tobias Snape will be so proud.
A bitter, humourless laughter escaped his hoarse throat and he slumped in his armchair. "Apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it, Father?" Severus whispered to himself.
"No, it seems that this one didn't, at least," he replied to himself.
He took his wand out and expelled the Glamour from the band on his finger. However unknowingly, he had even taken to that path to coerce the girl.
'You, pathetic man! You have finally stooped low enough to use that deplorable bond to your benefits!'
Severus sighed, a sign of weakness he liked to keep well behind his Shields.
The bathroom door opened again, only to be closed shortly, followed by Granger's room.
Granger's room? He snorted in derision. The guest room.
Severus picked up an empty phial and threw it against a wall. The shatter did nothing to appease him. Oh, he was pissed!
Severus shook his head and reclaimed his Shields. He did not have time to be pissed. It was time to make Albus privy to his meeting with the megalomaniac. And the events that had followed. Maybe if Minerva got to know of this, she would have his hide—and for good, Severus couldn't help wallowing in self-pity for a bit with that thought.
UUUUUUU
By the morning, Hermione's hand had more or less healed. She had applied the salve that she had gratefully found in the lavatory cabinet, and it had worked effectively. Granted, it was still swollen a bit and a bit taut to move, along with the nasty scars on her palm that would fade with time. The bruises on the back had disappeared quite convincingly.
She was relieved. Hermione did not want to miss going to the bakery because of her hand. She decided to wear a glove on it in order to keep it safe from any further injuries, that would also explain the Muggles if she could not do a certain task well. She could always say that she had managed to fall, balancing on her hand, thus gotten a minor sprain, if one asked.
She also did not want to stay inside. She did not even want to remember her ugly confrontation with him, or worse, contemplate that deadness in her eyes. It still made her shudder.
As usual, Hermione went down. Her breakfast was on the table, but there was no sign of Snape. She assumed him to be avoiding her as well. But he had never failed to be present in the living room in the morning for her to finish the fourth term on the bond...
Perhaps, he was asleep. As much as she hated him, even she could not deny that Snape had been pretty well injured the last night. Some extra rest would do him good, she thought.
She had read the terms well, there was no time limit, just that those duties were to be performed every day, that was all. The evening would do then.
After some thought, Hermione left a small note on the table.
She grabbed her satchel, wore her watch, and left the house to another day of well-needed work.
UUUUUUU
Professor Snape,
As you were not present this morning for me to sate the terms of the bond as required, I would like to inform you that I will consider them in the evening, when I return. Your cooperation will be appreciated.
-Hermione Grange
The girl was too devoted to that banal job of hers. Despite the unfortunate mangling of her hand, she had deemed it fit to report on her job.
Not determination. Gryffindor stupidity.
He needed to make some arrangements before the girl was back. Arrangements that he should have made way back. Severus huffed.
New wards were to be applied on the guest room over what were already applied by Minerva. But as Minerva's wards were against Severus' entry inside the said room, only the old witch could install the new ones.
Severus summoned his Patronus with a mumbled spell. The silver figure of the familiar doe appeared before him.
"Minerva, I would appreciate if you could pay a visit today, perhaps over a cup of tea. But not later than Seven." He signalled the doe to go. She leaped out of the window, vanishing into thin air.
Usually, a Patronus liked to nuzzle at its master, but the frail doe had long since ceased from showing any such abhorrent gestures to her summoner, for she knew his temperament well. Severus was pleased with that. He was not very fond of animals, anyway, material or otherwise. Perhaps, that went back to that 'little prank' Black had decided to play on him, with Lupin being transformed into a werewolf while he was tricked into witnessing it. It might also be due to the Dark Lord's familiar snake, Nagini. That viscous animal was enough for one to maintain a distance between oneself and anything that was not human.
Severus did have an owl though, a simple, barn-owl. But intelligent enough to take instructions well, and one who did not bother Severus. The owl was mostly left outside. He hunted for itself like a wild. Severus did not indulge him with treats. That would not bode well with him, anyway. Honestly, Severus would have called him nothing but "Owl" but the shop where he had purchased it from, had already had a name on his cage—'Amber'. A sensible enough name, but slightly feminine.
Beyond that, Severus never preferred the company of animals. But recently, a certain exasperating feline had been plaguing him, marking his house as its territory. The stubborn familiar took too much after its mistress, Severus thought not for the first time.
The cat was still trespassing over Severus' armchair!
Severus threw an ugly glare at the ginger cat, which seemed to have no affect on it, but it rather began licking its fur. Severus rolled his eyes in annoyance. Bloody unhygienic monster!
"I would very much like to burn the armchair down, preferably with you, Cat, on it," he barked, then cursed himself for talking to the animal. Again! He was clearly losing his mind!
UUUUUUU
"You live with Severus Snape?" Mrs. Frost suddenly asked.
A piece of mince pie that Hermione was chewing on became as hard as cardboard in her mouth.
How does she know?
It was meant to be a secret. Snape had not said so openly, but she had presumed so. How was she going to explain the lady of her living arrangements?
"How do you know?" Hermione tried to act casual. "I don't recall mentioning it..."
Mrs. Frost chuckled. "It's a small world, Dear, and an even smaller a neighbourhood, won't you say?"
Hermione quickly stuffed another bite in her mouth so as to ignore the conversation, silently cursing herself to show such despicable table manners worth bringing Ron to shame. Well, no, she could go to such limits so as to challenge Ron in that particular field. She smiled inwardly at that thought.
"Hearsay," taking Hermione's silence as a question, Mrs. Frost clarified. "Do you?"
There was no way that people wouldn't notice, anyway. She might as well make a quick, believable story before the lady grew suspicious. "Yes. He is a...family friend."
"Oh," the lady looked a bit confused.
"My parents...they are...not here, I mean...in England," she said hesitantly, even though she had narrated the same story to her employer once before, not wanting to lie about her Mum and Dad. "So... My school, it's summer vacation, you see... So I'm living with him..."
"I haven't seen him for many years now," Mrs. Frost said, dropping some more mince pies on her plate. "I wonder if he ever leaves his house anymore."
"He is a...reserved man, yes," Hermione said in a low voice. One reason among many why Hermione liked to leave that wretched house was not to be anywhere near Snape. And here she was, discussing the man with her employer.
"I knew his mother quite well," the lady went on. "Eileen, you would be knowing, of course."
At a loss, Hermione just nodded.
"She was a sweet lady, younger to me," she continued. "But we were friends, in a way."
"Oh." That was all Hermione said, wishing that the lady would just drop the topic altogether.
"Her husband, Tobias... He was one vile man, I tell you," Mrs. Frost huffed. "Killed poor Eileen, that one."
"What!" Hermione gasped in shock.
"No, not literally," the lady sighed with sadness. "In fact, he all but killed her literally."
Not sure if she was breaching Snape's privacy, Hermione tried to change the subject. But something nagged her to remain listening. Her curiosity. Her damn curiosity!
"Every time I met her, she had fresh bruises on herself," she told her, looking very morose now. "I asked her so many times to report that man, but...well, what to say."
"I...didn't know about that," Hermione whispered, feeling a sense of grief herself for the woman she would never know.
"He was quite older to her, and I often wondered why she would have married him. Eileen was a beautiful woman, lovely on her good days. Her bad days began after Tobias lost all sense of humanity, especially after he lost his job... There was no stopping him then."
Mrs. Frost wiped moisture from the corner of her eye. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. Hermione subconsciously placed a comforting hand on the lady's shoulder, but her mind was recalling her words.
Snape's father was an abuser? His mother was a victim of domestic violence? She had never really heard of a witch being defenceless in such a way or even a wizard 'hitting' his wife. In fact, to be on a logical side, even if a wizard would torment his wife, he would use a wand, wouldn't he? Why the visible bruises then? And why would a witch not hide them away with a Glamour Charm?
Perhaps, it was a silent cry for help? But then, why would Mrs. Snape not have used magic to defend herself? Was she a Muggle? Was that why Snape lived in a Muggle neighbourhood? That explained a lot! And as she had noticed so many Muggle appliances at the house, that only made sense. Hermione had not really given them much thought before, for her own house had had them. She was still not too familiar with a proper Wizarding house, except for The Burrow.
So Mrs. Snape had been a Muggle. A young girl, stuck with a tormenting wizard. Of course, she would have had no defence against magic. Hermione felt sick and aggrieved for the deceased women. She wondered if Mrs. Snape- no, Eileen would be better than hiding even her identity behind the name of her torment. Hermione wondered if Eileen had even been privy to her husband being a wizard before she had married? She wondered if Snape's father was a Death Eater, too... Well, she knew that Draco Malfoy's entire ancestry was. So maybe, Snape's was, too. That would easily explain why he himself became a Death Eater.
"How's he now? Severus, I mean," having composed herself, Mrs. Frost asked.
Caught off guard and a bit surprised by the question, Hermione said, "Umm...alright?"
Her employer nodded. "He was a very shy child, that one. Never really saw him out to play as a child. Even now, nobody knows when he comes, where he goes... I had thought that he would leave after Tobias died. Doesn't have very many good memories here, that poor soul."
Poor soul? Hermione frowned. Many things could be said about Snape, but shy was not one of them. Snape was reclusive, yes. But she never thought that it could date back to his early days. "Why?"
"Oh, Tobias was just a monster to him, as he was to poor Eileen!" The lady shook her head.
"What!" Hermione almost squeaked in shock. "You mean...you mean he... His father was abusive...even to him?"
"I never saw much of him," the lady said. "He hardly ever came out, just to play with that little red-head girl, that's all. I never saw marks on him but...Eileen sometimes let things slip, you see... And the way he was...I have brought up three kids, I know the signs.
"Eileen would sometimes not let him in the house till late night because Tobias would be so drunk and furious... I saw him, at times, sitting in the park till late. Must have been no more than your Eight or Nine... But never told me why. I asked Eileen once, she said Tobias was angry... That's all she said about it."
"My God!" Hermione clamped her hand on her mouth. It was so unfathomable to imagine the ever-so-powerful Potions Master who had taught her for five years, whom she had quite feared for his mannerisms since her first class, could have once been a helpless child. She didn't want to entertain that image in her head, it was entirely too...painful for some reason.
Hermione would have rather believed that Snape had been a wild child, bullying the other kids, nasty and arrogant. But not...shy...or tormented himself. Was that the reason of his inane darkness then? Was that suppressed fear and anger directed towards his father the reason for him becoming a Death Eater?
No, she still despised the man. He had killed her parents, but her heart pained for that little boy...
"How's he now?" She asked again. "Does he talk now? Oh, does he have someone to? Is he married?"
Hermione looked at Mrs. Frost, not knowing what he say... So she decided to remain on the safer path. "He's a Professor in a boarding school now..."
"Ah, that's why we never see him 'round the year," the lady said to herself. "Is he married?"
"No." Hermione promptly said. A deep unease settled in her stomach, realising that the band on her finger implied otherwise. But it made her feel sick. That abject bond was nothing beyond just that!
"Oh," Mrs. Frost looked unhappy with that revelation. "I will pray for him. My Christ knows a companion would do him good."
"He is...reserved," she repeated.
"He always was a quiet boy," the lady shook her head, as if recalling the old days. "And now that I think, he had hardly anyone to talk to. Eileen was...so resigned by the end... And Tobias was, well, what to say of him. He was a truly vile man, just as bad a father. Only that little friend of his...what was her name, I don't remember, only she could ever make Severus talk or smile... I had thought they would get married. But...haven't seen her, too, in years..."
Hermione looked down at her plate. She had no appetite left in her. There was too much that had been brought to light regarding the man. Honestly, she wished she hadn't gotten privy to it... It was easier to hate someone without knowing of his reasons or background of becoming who they had become. Perhaps, ignorance was indeed bliss.
But curiosity! "Er...Mrs. Frost, how did...how did Eileen die?" Hermione finally asked. She was half expecting to be told that she succumbed to the injuries her husband had inflicted upon her. But that was not what she got as an answer.
"She just...stopped living, I'd say," the lady said so quietly that Hermione had goosebumps. "If someone could just die of simply giving up, that would be Eileen..."
"What...do you mean?" Hermione asked, unconsciously rubbing her gloved hand.
"I don't know how she died, Dear," Mrs. Frost sighed. "She did not come out of her house for many days. One day, I went and knocked. Tobias opened, drunk as he was. Said she died, just that. No regret, no shame, just said that and shut the door.
"I met Severus once after that, it was after Tobias' death. But I don't believe Severus ever came on Tobias' death, there was no funeral, if I recall. It was a year after Tobias' death that I saw Severus here... I had asked him, then, all he told me was that...Eileen did not wake up one morning, as Tobias had told him."
"He...Snape, I mean," Hermione asked in a very quiet voice, "Did he come for his mother's funeral?"
"Yes, but didn't call any of us or anything, did it very quietly," she replied. "I went to Eileen's grave, offered flowers. I pray that wherever she is, she gets a better fate in another life..."
It was only after Mrs. Frost had offered Hermione a handkerchief did she realise that she was crying...
UUUUUUU
Happy, the house-elf. Severus always found house-elf names quite irksome. But that elf's name was exceptionally so. He was one of Albus' favourite. For summers, the elf was assigned to Severus but he mostly avoided letting the house-elf accompany him to his house.
Happy was currently serving tea to both Minerva and Severus. Severus suspected Albus had purposefully assigned such an elf to him whose very name was a striking contrast to Severus' whole personality. Minerva seconded his suspicion.
"So, will you tell me what has happened?" Minerva asked. She was sitting on the settee in his living room. Severus was sitting on an unfavourable chair, because his armchair was again occupied by a certain ginger menace.
"Must you be so prying?" He said dryly, taking a sip of his tea.
Minerva raised a brow, doing a pathetic impression of him. "Well, of course. You want me to assign wards on Miss Granger's room to tell you when she's injured. It is obvious that something has happened." Then, her expressions darkened. "Good Lord, did she try something?"
Severus looked up from his cup. "No. I do not believe that she would, even in future."
"Oh?"
"Let us just say, she is too much of a Gryffindor for that," he said with dryness.
That made Minerva's lip twitch in a smirk. "That she is. She won't give up. So, what happened?"
"Minerva, whatever gave you the impression that I will acquaint you with the facts?" He said with a raised brow of his own. "Just install the wards."
"I am her Head of House, Severus," Minerva looked angry. "If you have done something-"
"You will be the first person to be informed," he finished. "The girl will apprise you of any such mishaps on her own, if she feels like it."
"Well, that I know," she conceded. "Miss Granger is hardly a damsel in distress."
He snorted, "Small mercies."
"I will install the wards, Severus, but not without you telling me," she announced, leaning back with stubbornness. "She is my student and I have a responsibility towards her. If she was injured in any way, I have a right to know."
Severus did not want to dwell over the events of the last night. They made him feel nauseous, reminding him of his uncanny resemblance to his Father.
He glanced at the clock. It was only Six yet. Granger would not be back for another two hours or so. But the wards would take time to settle in or the girl would recognise them.
Though the endless litany of questions and accusations was beyond him to tolerate, Minerva would not relent. Severus sighed inwardly. "I was summoned last night," he said impassively. Minerva sat up, eyeing him warily. "Miss Granger thought it prudent to aid me. Reflexively, she got injured by my actions."
"What happened?" She asked further.
"I am not narrating the events to you!" He snarled. "The crux of the matter is that she was not ready to accept any medical assistance from me. Due to which, I gather that if she manages to injure herself in future, she will not seek my help. Thus, the wards."
Minerva stared at him for a moment before nodding in understanding. She had been acquainted to him for long enough to know when to stop pushing. "Very well."
"You can confirm the further details with the girl, herself," he said dismissively.
"Would you mind calling her with a little more dignity?" She said with pursed lips.
"Correct me if I am mistaken," he said sardonically, "Does she not address me far worse epithets in private?"
"Ah, how is the taste of you own medicine, Severus?" She smirked unapologetically. "Bitter?"
A/N: You guys are amazing! I was so flattered to read so many reviews, thank you so, so much!
SamG2001: Hey, thanks for reading and liking my story! And also thanks for telling me about the insurance thing. I had no idea about it. As you must have guessed, I don't belong to the UK. But at least I know now. Keep reading and reviewing. :)
kagomeLove2: Hi. Thanks a lot for all the reviews! I loved hearing from you. So many reviews made my day. And yes, even I feel sad that Severus keeps comparing himself to his father. He's my favourite HP character, after all. But I think, people who have suffered quite so badly in their childhood, do have a fear to become like their parents. I have seen it in some of my friends... Thanks again for reading, and I'm looking forward to hear from you on this chapter, too. :)
Whatanidea15: Hey! Thanks for reading and reviewing my work! In the coming chapters, there will be more and better interactions between them. As I have already written half the story, I can promise you that you'll like where this is going. Do let me know how you find this chapter! :)
Padme.G: Thank you for reading! I love animals and especially Crookshanks for how he was described in the books. Glad to know that you're liking my version of him. :)
JulGladiat: Hi, thanks a lot for your review. I'm glad that you're finding my work interesting. Well, not too soon, but with a little wait, you'll see the improvements between them. It's going to be quite subtle for a while. I'm really happy that you think her reactions are natural. Keep reading and looking forward to hear more from you! :)
gisela19wwe: Thank you for understanding and supporting my reasoning. I was quite worried that it could be perceived as "too much grief" by some. Thanks for relieving my concern, and for reading and reviewing. :)
Your reviews literally make my day! THANKS A LOT to everyone!
Next chapter will be up on Friday, as usual. I'm quite excited for the next one. Please do tell me how you find this chapter. Have a good day! :D