Chapter 13: The Jar And The Crate
A/N: Sorry, I couldn't update sooner, I had been busy. But here we are with another chapter! Enjoy!
'Come with me, Mother,' Sixteen-year-old Severus said to a dark haired woman. She was lying on a settee, her face gaunt and wrinkled with years of worry. 'I'll find a place somewhere in Diagon Alley for you while I'm in school. My friend, Lucius Malfoy is going to introduce me to a great wizard, he'll offer me a position...'
'This is my home, Severus,' the witch said wearily. 'It is my life.'
'What kind of life is this?' Young Severus said exasperatedly.
'A life of choice,' was all the reply Severus got, before the witch turned her face away from her son.
UUUUUUU
'What happened to her?' Eighteen-year-old Severus whispered coldly to a man with a grubby face. The man's eyes were unfocused and he reeked of alcohol. His stubble was darkening his chin in uneven patches.
'I don't know,' the man shrugged. 'She died.' The words held no regret whatsoever.
'What did you do to her?' Severus' voice was icy, his eyes were boring into the other man's with disgust.
'I didn't lay a hand on the bitch since I dunno how long,' his voice had an inebriated slur to it. 'I got up and she was dead.'
Young Severus growled and pounced upon the older man. He grabbed him by his collar and pushed him to the wall. 'I don't even need my bloody wand to kill you. My bare hands will suffice.'
'Severus, Severus, no,' the man started struggling against Severus' firm hold. 'Please, please... I didn't lay a hand on her, I swear!'
'This time!' Severus snarled. He pulled the man towards himself, then jerked him to the wall. The man yelped in pain and shock. Severus continued slamming the man to the wall.
'Severus, please, I'm your...I'm your Father!' The older man cried.
Severus left the man's collar so forcefully that he was again pushed to the wall with a thud and stumbled on his feet, before collapsing.
'The only reason why I am not killing you,' Severus' whisper was so fierce that it made the man flinch. 'The only reason.'
UUUUUUU
Severus was frustrated. And the reason was Granger—not a surprise at all.
Since he had began the girl's Occlumency lessons, he was plagued by all those long-buried memories of her past. He had been made privy to a good part of the girl's home life. Most of the memories that he had chosen, unknowingly of course, had been related to her parents.
So many anecdotes, and all filled with such...joy and images of a fulfilling family. And though Severus had come to finally realise why the girl was still grieving her loss—anybody would, having lost a family like that—he had also come to loathe those memories. Because they so blatantly taunted him that he never had that.
Unlike Granger's parents who had chided their child not to address herself as 'weird', and called her 'special', making an allusion to a Muggle fictional character, Severus' Father had been furious when he had gotten to know that his son had taken after his Mother's 'curse'.
Those memories had stopped irking him long ago. After all, he was a grown man, not a sulking child. But because of the girl, he was forced to revisit his own past and make comparisons.
He also knew where Granger had gotten her vocabulary of epithets from—all those saccharine monikers that she was referred to as, that the girl now used on her infernal cat and Severus' owl...
Pumpkin? Dear Merlin! He rolled his eyes. But there was no denying that Granger had had a fulfilling life. She was taught to take a stand for herself, unlike Eileen Prince. At the very least, Severus was a little relieved that Granger would not follow the footsteps of his Mother. There was a significant difference between the two, for which Severus was eternally grateful for.
Five days ago when Bellatrix and Narcissa had visited, he had been alarmed at first to know that the lunatic Lestrange woman had spotted Granger lurking near the staircase. He had braced himself for making a show of ordering Granger into behaving as he was certain that the girl would attack Bellatrix with her harangue.
But he had been floored at Granger's acting. Although a more observant person could have seen the clenched fists and tight jaw, Bellatrix could not. In all honesty, Granger was a temperamental witch, but her self-control had Severus begrudgingly admiring her willpower.
After the two witches were gone, the fit in the park could be said to be understandable. But he had been distressed with Granger's blabbering about how she could not manage to 'go on'. But the wards had never signalled of any self-harm she had inflicted upon herself.
He had found his usually eloquent self at a serious dearth of words on seeing the girl weeping. He was not one to offer comfort, it did not come naturally to him. What was one supposed to do in a situation as such?
So, he had been chivalric. He had offered a handkerchief to her. Severus had stood rather uncomfortably while she cried, no words coming to his mind to comfort her. When Granger had somewhat composed herself, he debated with himself whether to offer his hand to her in another gesture of chivalry, but could not bring himself to. Perhaps, that would have crossed a line?
When his first year Slytherins cried before him in homesickness, he merely offered them a cup of chamomile tea in his office. A few well-rehearsed words did the trick, with an offer to send a letter to their houses with a speed-owl. The students, at times, talked about their parents or siblings whom they were missing, and as their Head of House, Severus listened with patience, but could hardly relate. Severus, himself, had been glad to be away from his Muggle Father on going to Hogwarts. Although he was worried about leaving his Mother alone with his alcoholic father. But that was a far cry from homesickness.
But Granger was not a child. And so, Severus had no idea how to handle the situation. He could tell that she was humiliated and in despair. What could he have said to soothe her, anyway?
He came to the kitchen for his breakfast. One tap on the table with his wand had the Hogwarts elves sending breakfast for two people. Severus sat at his usual seat and summoned a jar from a cupboard above the stove—the jar with the unpalatable jam that Granger had oh-so-kindly made for him, no doubt purposefully as a little revenge. But he was not too sure that it had been on purpose, what with the condition the girl was in while making it. Without thinking about the taste, he picked up a scoop from the jar, and swallowed it, like he had to do at each meal.
He put a Warming Charm on the girl's plate as she she would not be down for another hour at least, and started on his own food.
Only two weeks remained before the term would begin. Albus was stable for now, nobody other than Severus had any idea of his terminal condition. Severus had informed the Headmaster of the Unbreakable Vow he had made to Narcissa to aid Draco in his endeavour, whatever it was. Albus had been satisfied with the development, and the Dark Lord had been pleased, too, to see Severus' eagerness to do his bidding. But the madman had not told him what it was he was to aid Draco in.
Light footsteps came down the stairs, and Severus watched as Granger came down—early, that day.
She looked at him with uncertainty before saying a curt "Morning." She had been mostly quiet since the two witches had visited.
Severus inclined his head in response. They never ate together, that was an unsaid rule. Or at least it was till that morning when Granger said, "I hope you don't mind," and took her usual chair by the table. He watched the girl warily, but she looked neutral. He couldn't help but notice how exhausted and pale she looked these days. Clearly, the Occlumency lessons in such quick succession were enervating her greatly.
Severus summoned the Prophet from the coffee table, if only to avoid the awkward silence and the girl. There was nothing new in the paper, if one considered Death Eater attacks on the Muggles as a daily occurrence.
There were some articles about the 'Chosen One', Severus sneered inwardly. The Ministry was giving their platitudes in their statements, and some daft wizards were clinging onto the clueless Ministry for safety.
An Order meeting was planned for the weekend. Albus had some strategies to discuss, but he would not be saying a word about his condition. If the Order got the wind that their very venerable leader, himself, was dying, the association would break apart. Severus had asked Albus to at least inform Minerva and start preparing her if she were to be his successor. But his suggestions had fallen on dead ears.
It was the screeching sound of the cap of the jam jar twisting that drew Severus' attention to the girl. She had opened the jar and was scooping some gooey jam out of it.
"Miss Granger," he hurriedly interrupted. "What do you think you are doing?"
She looked up at him confusedly, then frowned. "What does it seem like, Sir?"
Daft girl! "You do realise that it will finish sooner if two people consume it, don't you?" Severus' own words sounded so dimwitted in his ears. But then what was he supposed to say? If Granger had the distasteful goo, she would...she would what? Why was he even stopping her in the first place? The jam was so unappetising, she'd better have a taste of her own making, quite literally. As Severus could not come to reason with himself, he snapped his mouth shut. Yet, a voice at the back of his head kept asking him not to let the girl eat it...
"I'm only taking a little," she said with a puzzled expression.
Severus watched as the girl spread the orange goo on her bread. She re-capped the jar, and took a bite of the bread. He brought two fingers to his mouth in order to hide the slightly amused quirk of his lips as the girl's jaws froze and her face took on a greenish tint. It was almost comical, he decided.
Granger clamped a hand to her mouth, her eyes watering from the corners. With that, she flung to the kitchen sink. Severus hid himself behind the Prophet to conceal his smirk and control the laughter that was building in his stomach.
Granger returned to the table, coughing. She downed her glass of pumpkin juice to get rid of the taste.
"It's horrible!" She exclaimed, eyeing the jar with distaste. "Why didn't you say anything?"
He turned the page nonchalantly, "Taste hardly matters to me."
"The vinegar was burning my tongue!" She shuddered.
"It was hardly the worst I've had," he said dismissively and returned to read his paper.
"That's why you said that about my culinary skills..." She mumbled. "I'm sorry. It-"
"Doesn't matter," he said coldly, not willing to listen to her ramble or apologise. How was it so easy for her to apologise, anyway! He had to muster all his strength to do that.
"Cooking is so not my forte," she said to mostly herself with a snort.
Indeed.
At least, it made it clear that the girl had not tried to plan a petty revenge that way.
Granger left the house earlier than usual, but he refrained himself from inquiring. It was not his place to question her. He retired to his Lab shortly after.
UUUUUUU
Hermione had left the house early because she had to go to the bookstore before going to the bakery. There were some more books she had to buy. But as she had Occlumency lesson in the evening, she could not make a trip to the store after her shift at the bakery.
As a result, she reached the bakery early, too. Mrs. Frost was setting up the showcase, and welcomed her just as warmly as she always did.
That was when Hermione got the idea. "Mrs. Frost," she said, "Would it be too much trouble if you could teach me how to make fruit jam?"
UUUUUUUU
Dear Severus,
Firstly, you have all my gratitude for the potions you had brewed for me. They are working well and are aiding me in my relative recovery.
I hope you remember the Order meeting that has been scheduled for this Saturday evening. If you are summoned before that, I would naturally like a report. But if you are not, I would ask you to write a detailed report of your meetings with Tom since the beginning of the summer. For analytical purposes only, rest assured. It will be a confidential document, not to be discussed in the Order, as you have already guessed. I am an old man, you see, I cannot remember each detail with clarity.
Also, if you would be so kind as to ask Miss Granger if she would like to come, too, I will be very pleased. Not for the meeting as she is still not an official member, but to meet with her friends. I believe that the social call will do her good. I did upset the child quite thoroughly the last time I had seen her. I will instruct Minerva to collect her from your residence so as to play along with story that she had been residing in an Order safe house.
-Albus Dumbledore.
Severus folded the letter and set fire to it—a measure of precaution. He was supposed to destroy each and every such document if his house was to be raided any day.
It was only when the letter was reduced to ashes did Granger knocked on the door to his Lab. It was the evening of yet another Occlumency lesson. Severus found himself sincerely hoping that he would not stumble upon her memories with her family.
"Enter," he called. The table and the extra chair were already out of sight, leaving only two chairs.
The girl came inside and closed the door behind herself. She came and sat on the chair opposite to his. Looking almost calm, an expression that she had started showing more often since beginning her Occlumency lessons.
She was improving, and at a healthy rate. Comparing with Potter, she was already a master. But Potter was too low to be compared to. The girl had a good grasp on the subject and her shields were more invigorated than before.
"Miss Granger," he said, "The Headmaster has asked if you would be willing to go to the a Headquarters on the coming Saturday."
"Saturday? Why?" She asked.
"There is an Order meeting scheduled in the evening," he told her. "Although you and your friends will not be a part of the meeting, you might want to socialise with your peers who will be present at the location."
The girl's face shouted reluctance. Severus was almost sure that she would refuse. But then, it took on a calculating look. She bit her lip in contemplation and Severus inwardly groaned at that habit of hers.
"Yes, I'll go," she finally replied. "But what will I say to my friends about where I'm coming from...or...why I can't stay with them?"
"I believe we can leave that discussion for later for it will demand time, and focus on the lesson at hand," he said. They would have to make a plausible scenario, which might take some time.
"Right," she nodded, sitting up straight.
Severus summoned the Pensieve and, by the drill, retrieved her memories and let them float into the basic safely. When he pointed his wand at the girl, she looked calm again.
"Legilimens."
UUUUUU
Hermione ascended the steps slowly, practically dragging herself up after the taxing session. She felt haggard at best and dead at worst. Occlumency was taking a toll on her body, especially with her eight hour long shift at the bakery.
Harry, she remembered, had sessions only twice a week. Yet, he returned with a cadaverous face. Here, she practised about every alternate day. Yawning uncharacteristically, she finally reached the guest room, mentally prepared to throw herself on her bed and lose herself to sleep. She could barely make time to read before bed nowadays.
But when she went to open the door, her toe met with something. Looking down, she spotted a wooden box sitting by the wall. Hermione bent down and picked the heavy box up. From inside, glass clinked.
For a moment, she wondered if the box contained any curses. Buy she doubted the semi-permeable wards around Snape's house would admit a cursed item.
She opened the box and gaped in surprise. A whole crate of Invigoration Draughts were lined inside in standard vials. To confirm, Hermione uncorked one vial and sniffed it—the Draught was brewed only hours ago. The box did not harbour any trademark of any apothecary though.
It took her only a moment to realise that Snape had kept the potions here for her. The idea did not bode well with her other notions of the man's character. She could not even fathom such kindness from him to begin with. Yet, here she stood with a crate of freshly brewed, much needed potions.
In bafflement, Hermione carried the box in, wondering if she was supposed to thank him...
Hermione looked at Crookshanks with a sigh. "He's so confusing, Crooks!" Her familiar eyes darted from her to the box with curiosity.
Why would he care of her state? His only job was to train her and as far as she understood, her weariness never interfered with her progress at Occlumency. Then why did Snape go out of his way to provide for her?
And the mystery continues.
UUUUUUU
Severus hardly ate dinner after the Occlumency sessions. Today, like every other day, Granger's memories had consisted of her home life, with a few exceptions of Hogwarts. But at least, she was quicker in conjuring her shields.
He could feel the edge of a headache growing stronger. He would soon need a potion.
No dinner did not mean that he could defy the terms of the bond. In truth, he never chanced that. He dutifully ate the atrocious jam three times a day, indicating three meals prepared by Granger.
He opened the cupboard above the stove to retrieve the jar. On a single touch, he knew it was a different jar. When he saw it, it was filled with red jam, better looking.
On the glass jar, a small note was stuck. After years of checking her extra-lengthy assignments, Severus easily recognised Granger's handwriting.
I hope this one makes up for the last one. It will last for six months if you put a Stasis on it.
As much as he loathed the girl to be accepting the terms of the bond as her duty, she kept indulging herself in doing the exact opposite. Maybe that had been the reason why Severus did not want to let Granger know how utterly distasteful the jam was.
He sighed irritably. Grabbing a clean spoon, he scooped some fresh jam out of the jar, and tasted it.
Mixed fruit?
It was less sweet and not bitter at all—Severus decided that it was a huge improvement from the last one. And although he could still not understand why the girl would waste her time to make it for him, he had another spoonful.
A complete mystery, indeed.
A/N: This chapter wasn't edited well, I'll edit it sometime. Right now, my priority was to post.
Please review, your reviews are the only factor that encourages me to write. I have got 50 comments from my wonderful readers—a small number but good enough for a new author on this site! Thanks a lot for showing love and for accepting the pace at which they're going. I was glad to receive reviews telling that they find the story realistic—that was my sole intention. Thanks again and looking forward to hearing from you all again. :)
Also, belated Happy Christmas!