Authors Note: It's a short one but I've had some excited readers with some wonderful reviews and positive messages, thank you all, so I decided to post early! I hope everyone is having a wonderful time preparing for Christmas. All reviews, favorite, and personal messages are greatly appreciated I respond to all my DMs. Cheers!
"Now three stirs counterclockwise slowly" commanded Snape directing Hermione's actions over the boiling potion "Slowly Ms. Granger" he hissed when she rotated the stirring stick faster than the potions professor deemed adequate.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, he took over guiding her small hands with his own. She is surprised at the gentleness of the motion; he does not grip her hands tightly but merely nudges them as the speed he wishes.
"Breath slowly" he requests demonstrating the action, and Hermione relaxes stirring at what snape determines as 'competent speed'. His hands are large but cool despite the heat of the cauldron beneath them and the warmth of the room. Hermione itches to ask him if this chill is due to being subjected to the cruciatus
curse but she restrains herself. She can live without the answer from him, she just hopes she never has to find out for herself.
Snape's potions lab is in a surprising state. Unlike the dark and damp lab in Hogwarts, his own is brightly lit and smells recently cleaned. Two rows of caldrons sit brewing each with their own label. Hermione is surprised at the meticulous organization, but she supposes the risks were high, one mistake could kill those who consumed it or have himself killed. She wasn't naive enough to think he didn't also brew potions for Voldemort.
Snape insists they both wear gloves and have their hair tied back. "Poppy'll kill me if we mess this up" He offers as an explanation. It was strange to hear him use her first name, use any ones first name for that matter. But she supposed, even Severus Snape anti-social as he was, even he was bound to have at least one friend.
"Some students have taken to gouging out their dark marks," He tells her, "Poppy wasn't able to save the last one but we're hoping that with this potion those stupid enough to make that mistake won't die from it" Hermione's stomach turns at this fact. She wonders how many students had taken the mark and now regretted it, she wonders how many witches and wizards had the mark permanently disfiguring their forearms.
"Very good" he commented when Hermione had completed her stirring. The potion had a pink hue which was good news, it was doing well. Hermione felt increased pressure for this potion's results, the stakes were higher than just another addition to their stocks.
" Let it simmer, now"
Snape sits at one of the stools reading a long roll of parchment and she feels again like one of his students. Albeit a brave one given the question she was about to ask.
"Why do you do it?" She forces herself to continue when he lays down his parchment to look at her.
"Do what Ms. Granger," He asks, and Hermione can feel him daring her to clarify, daring her to continue.
"Pretend to be a death eater and help Dumbledore, help the order" Snape is up, his article abandoned before Hermione can finish her question.
"Be clear on this Ms. Granger." his eyes darkened as he spoke to her his voice losing the soft causal tone it had before. Here again was the familiar, dangerous drawl.
"There is no pretending to be a death eater. it is not a job, there is no quitting. It cannot be reversed no matter how much one may desire it." Hermione nods swallowing hard She attempts to do the arithmetic that landed Snape with that ugly tattoo yet brewing potions for the order.
"But you're good, "she asked feeling especially juvenile as the words slipped out
"Good..?" he laughed a dark sort of laugh; "No, there is no such thing as good Hermione, just a lot of grey and some real fucking evil." Hermione jumps at the curse, but he continues, and Hermione suspects he enjoys her shock at his language. Hermione is sure that it is meant to scare her.
"There are just those who endeavor for goodness, for forgiveness and those who have let the madness, the darkness take over". He doesn't look at her, lost in his own head "as for Dumbledore, why do you? his favorite pet, if only I had known I'd have a hand in creating the Order's most dangerous weapon". Her mouth dried at his words. He knew. She stared at her hands. Unable to move, unable to speak. She could feel the heat of his stare, waiting for her to answer.
She takes a shaky breath but responds nevertheless, "I do it, so others do not. because of my gift". The word feels like poison and Hermione wonders not for the first time if she was chosen for that reason. For the purple electricity that coursed through her veins, even now begging for release. Hermione chooses her words, careful not to talk about the death caused at her hand. Snape raises an eyebrow at her words. "Both of us bare the wounds of a fractured soul, it is a thankless job but necessary all the same."
For the first time, Hermione feels a kinship with the odd professor, they both held secrets in the shadows. "How did you find out," she asked curiosity getting the better of her. He cocked an eyebrow at her as if trying to deduce if he was meant to truly answer.
"Who do you think has been healing you all these months, even with your memory altered you must have suspected. Not Black or Lupin those animals. Surely the brightest witch of the age would have known" Hermione is embarrassed that she hadn't even thought of it. Suspected something? yes, but not this.
"After all, you were the logical choice" Snape continues "The headmaster has a penchant for exploiting those with nothing left to lose" he speaks bitterly and Hermione suspects there is no love lost between the two men. She had her own anger to Dumbledore and Snape had been acting behind the scenes for much longer than she had.
"Have you finished the book on bonds?" Snape asked, his nose, again, burned in a book.
"That was from you?" Hermione questioned, shocked that he would bother with such things as gifts.
"Obviously" he drawled an eyebrow quirked at her surprise. He knew she hadn't known, but now he wanted her to know of this small impulsive gesture.
"Well did you read it Max- "he speaks quickly frustrated until his voice caught as he realizes his mistake, but it was too late. He swore all kinds of colorful words in his head. He had been so careful, until now.
"What did you say..? What were you going to call me?" Hermione asked his voice raised, her brow is furrowed looking for answers. The potion boiled to completion and Snape took it off the heat in a flurry.
Hermione twists the words in her mouth, max…max...like maxima? It coudlnt be the fantom from her dreams. It was be too easy too simple.
"Who is Maxima" Hermione asked desperately for answers to the name she had heard so often. The name the plagued her dreams. She can hear the wretched emotion in her voice but she does no effort to steel herself. She doesn't care, not now. She needed to know. He had the answer, he had too.
Snape rushes to leave the room is robes billowing behind him and hermione is again frustrated at the lack of answers. But, In a split second of reconsideration, he turns to pausing for a moment longer than comfortable.
"Her name was Maxima Halley Potter"