Chapter 15
To the second Occlumency lesson, she comes early as well. An hour earlier, in fact. Given that they'd been no free brewing period between the last Occlumency lesson and now, this is the first time that he is alone with her in two days. To him, it makes no difference whether she arrives late or early, he only cares that she is present during the lesson. After all, the Headmaster never did give him specific instructions on what she ought and ought not to do. For him, it's sufficient that she's present.
It's interesting, however, that she's come earlier again. Considering what had happened the last time, when he threatened to take her House points away for daring to find out why she needed to be here and present, he didn't think that she would want to repeat the experience. But then again, this girl is more than what he has come to believe about her. Whether she purposely likes to challenge him, or she genuinely could not be bothered to care about his reactions towards her anymore, he will have to find out and soon. It will surely help him in his dealings with her.
He watches as she comes to stand in the doorway of the room, saying nothing to him. He supposes that he shouldn't expect a greeting from her tonight, for she does not look the part of one to do such a thing.
'Miss Granger,' he acknowledges only to spare himself the long silence that is sure to follow if he allows her to lead.
'Professor Snape, could I learn Occlumency as well?'
So, she's started to give up on greeting him, then? Why does nothing she does surprise him anymore? Next, he supposes that she will ask him to apologise for whatever wrong she believes him to have done her.
To answer her, however, he simply looks at her standing at the door, waiting precisely for the next moment that she says something to him, because that moment will come. She wouldn't have come an hour earlier for nothing, that he knows. His no response doesn't immediately spark her to ask him something else, although she does cross the threshold to walk right up to his desk. How little he cares that it's quite easy for her to come and stand next to him, looking down at him even, is nothing that concerns him at the moment.
'Did you hear me, Professor?'
This girl. There'd been a time when she used to be afraid of him, but look at her now.
'And did you not hear me last night?' he responds, feeling tested.
Was she under the impression that asking him all over again would get him to change his answer? Also, she thinks him stupid, does she? She cannot and will not ever tell him that she has not been taking notes of what he has told telling Potter. Mentally, she must've taken note of what he's said to Potter so far. What more would she like from him, a private lesson an hour earlier than Potter.
'Then why I am supposed to be here with Harry?'
Because the Headmaster suggested it, and he agreed, except to her he says, 'Haven't you repeatedly said that Potter needs you?'
It's much better to ask her that than tell her to take up her concern with the Headmaster. Of course, for her part, like he knew it would happen, she does not respond to him. He needs to goad her, it seems.
'You won't answer me?'
Her silence does answer him, in fact, which is why he keeps himself from smiling as he lazily asks, 'Tell me then why, Miss Granger, you came here an hour earlier.'
'I wanted to ask you if I could learn Occlumency as well.'
'As I have already told you no, tell me the truth this time.'
For a moment, there's only a long silence between them. While she seems to be struggling with herself on what to do, he takes the time to comfortably lean back in his chair and wait for her. There time to wait is ample.
'I just don't understand why I have to be here, Professor,' she finally lets out.
No doubt, she's referring to how she's made no contribution to the lessons.
'Your purpose is to simply be here.'
Scowling, she asks, 'But to do what?'
Oh, how fortunate she is that she isn't Potter, for this conversation would have gone a lot differently than how it is. And another thing, if she can scowl at him, he can do the same - actually, he will do better than that. Making sure to keep his eyes on her, needing her to see him moving, he rises from his seat and without saying a single word to her, begins to walk towards the door. His steps are quiet, patient even, made as they are especially to communicate that she will not be getting any answer from him.
'Could I at least do my homework while I'm here?' she calls after him.
She can do whatever she wants. He doesn't care. As for him, he will return only once Potter has arrived.
26Chapters
The very next day when she comes to brew, from the moment that she takes her steps into the office, his eyes follow her. In the lesson last night, she'd been very tame, not daring to repeat any of what she did on the first night. Truth be told, he appreciated that from her, for he wouldn't have liked to force her into submission again. While true, the appeal of being in control of the situation with her is great, something has changed; his actions no longer faze her, and he is no longer surprised by whatever reaction she gives him.
She astounds him now, he believes.
Within the confines of the Potions classroom, she is completely able to tame herself, never giving away anything to do with their other interactions. Unless provoked, she simply carries on as one who has no other dealings with him. He has thus come to believe that either she is an excellent performer or she's exceedingly private to the point where she's able to separate one thing from the other. She's similar to him then, if either is the case. That thought is astounding to him, although not nearly much as he astounds himself where she is concerned.
That he is so clued in on her actions, to the slight point of grasping her very reasoning, is one a reason why he perplexes himself. In his life, past and present, he would never have wanted to utter the sentiment that he knows Hermione Granger, for what benefit could there be in knowing her? And yet he is, day by day, becoming accustomed to her – without reproach, if he might add.
So then what is it about her?
Personally, even while studying her now, there's nothing in particular that he wants from her. Theirs is a relationship that began under a lure, his own lure seeking and daring to humiliate her for seeking his approval. At that time, he'd only been looking to rid her of some undesirable traits in the only way that he's known throughout his life, only for it to slowly dissolve into this, what it is now. Truthfully, between him showing her the Mark and her ignoring him, she'd grown into a different character towards him, and now it's nearly hard to remember a time when she feared him, relentlessly seeking his approval.
Oh, that seems a lifetime ago now.
Those days when he only aided her in brewing for his own benefit, the benefit of distraction, come upon his mind with great effort as of late. With the way things have been between them since the start of the term, there's seemingly such an undetectable mesh in their respective existences. His life, until term began, had been removed from her existence, but now there seems to be an unclear mesh in their respective existences.
Really, would he look at her now.
Not only does she have the liberty to walk into his classes and office in the fashion which she chooses, she's also solely responsible for her brewing. Apart from answering a few of her questions when she wants the clarity that her books can't provide her with, he leaves her to be as she wills. Sufficient is his confidence in her ability to brew, that he can freely allow her to brew by herself. Times have certainly changed and now putting all of their offhanded interactions together, he should simply admit that he has acquired a tolerance for the girl. If not so, she would have amassed a full schooling career's worth of detentions for her reactions.
Although, considering it only to be fair, she never does react unless he pushes her to. And it's only ever when he approaches her, pushing her in some way or another. So then why does he persist with her?
Could it be that underneath his own need to have power over her, he subconsciously likes the humdrum of spontaneity which she offers without meaning to? Perhaps, that their interactions are very separated from the calculated moves ever present in the Order and then later with the Dark Lord, he clings onto them for a wayward sort of comfort? Come to think of it, he might very well enjoy that there's a part of him alive outside of being of servitude. Being as Miss Granger and all that she brings to him is not at all connected to anything else that is going on in his life, he keeps her close.
And there, perhaps, is the answer.
Because she keeps coming back, even when he stubbornly remains the same, she astounds him. Clearly, he now tolerates the girl. But he wonders, would it be so bad to throw his inhibitions away and just like the girl? Not necessarily as a friend, simply as a student? She wouldn't even have to be a favourite student, he could simply like her. With one foot in the door, already tolerant of her and all that she brings, what harm would it do him to like the girl? Nothing would have to change between them. They would continue as they are, ignoring each other when it matters and butting heads when it also matters, without changing anything in his already set routine.
No, he shall leave it at tolerating the girl and nothing else.
Magic knows that if he starts liking her, she'd be even more encouraged to pester him with her educational conquests. Or perhaps not. He cannot be sure, since he isn't aware of what other things she does with her other Professors. It wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing for her to seek his help on school related projects, however, no. Tolerating her is quite enough and he will leave it at that.
26Chapters
The damned prophecy.
The meeting tonight made him feel singled out. While it wasn't a singular meeting only for him, it had been about the prophecy, which resulted in him being uncomfortable. The Dark Lord impressed on those present that he needed a hear the prophecy for himself. It's bloody wonderful that he would like to hear the damned thing, all the more so when four lessons in and Potter has still managed to keep himself together during Occlumency.
The price that he has to pay for having heard that darned thing is terrible.
On the one hand, he has to sit through meetings such as the one from which he just came, while on the other, he has to do his best to ensure that Potter learns how to Occlude. It's vengeance and guilt playing against one another within him, and for the first time in a while, he does not want to sit in the darkness of his quarters and wallow away in the misery. He would much rather attempt to confront the situation, or better yet, have his heart soothed, hence his hand lifting to knock on the door of his colleague.
'Sybill?' he calls.
Was it not for the prophecy, he wouldn't be at this very door waiting for the sound of an invitation to come from within.
'Come in.'
The permission to enter cheerily comes from inside, and not to waste any more time, he pushes the door open, carefully leading himself in. Like he expected, he finds her tinkering about, pausing her frenzied movements to look upon him.
'Oh, Severus. I've been waiting for you.'
'Waiting?'
Surely she hasn't really been waiting for him.
'Yes, yes,' she vigorously nods, 'I've been waiting for you. I've had the most nagging feeling that you would come to me before the week was over.'
Having told him that, she comes over to him, taking him by the wrist and then leads him to sit beside her on one of her floor stools. He can be grateful at least, that she hasn't chosen one of her floor cushions for him, as that would have made this entire thing ridiculous and pandering to her sense of being.
'Hmm,' she begins to hum as her hands gently move over the inside of his hand.
With her eyes closed as they are, whatever she believes herself to be doing, he would rather that she finishes it quickly. It's that he would rather that she didn't attempt to read his fortune, seeing as he doesn't have any. If he does possess any fortune, it's surely to die and nothing more.
'Sybill,' he warns, looking to get her to at least open her eyes and break her concentration.
'Hmm,' she hums with her eyes still shut, softly swaying her head from side to side. 'You are troubled, Severus.'
'I wouldn't have come to you otherwise,' he says, not sparing her his thoughts at all, causing her to suddenly open her eyes and peer at him.
It's not his intention to hurt her or even chastise her for being herself, but the truth is what it is, and that is that they are not friends. People who are not friends, do not usually look for each other unless they would like something or other from the other. She must be aware of that.
'What troubles you, then?' she wonders more to herself while searching his eyes.
A prophecy made over many years ago is what it is. He brings that to the front of his mind, only to see if she indeed can read something in his eyes. While she is no Legilimens, there are other ways of getting into the mind of someone through their eyes.
'Oh, Severus...' she resigns, completely letting go of him then.
Only slightly alarmed, because there's no real information in what he brought to his mind anyway, he moves his frame away from her, calmly inquiring, 'What have you seen?'
'Nothing, I'm afraid,' she laments. 'Your secrets are yours and yours alone. You guard them well. Though you bear the aura of trouble this evening, I cannot fathom anything beyond it.'
Seated atop her own legs, she seems to be pleading with him to let her in. Watching her be like this, vulnerable to his secrets, he wonders if perhaps he should bring her into his confidence. What could he lose by having someone else know him? At the end of his life, Albus will be the only one who truly knew some part of him, he will have no other legacy than which people have come to associate him with. Although, Sybill Trelawney would not exactly be the more credible person to leave his human legacy with. She too is shunned in her own way, a loner in her own way. In any case, he did not come here for any of that. The prophecy was what made him come here.
'Sybill, tell me, how probable is it for a prophecy to fail?'
To answer his question, she shakes her head as though in denial, 'A true prophecy shall always come to pass. It is as woven into destiny as magic is imbued into a wand. Sooner or later, someone magical will come along and purchase that wand for their own use. True prophecies are also the same. They will simply be until the time to happen has reached them.'
Bloody wonderful.
That is truly not what he wanted to hear, and so he turns away from her for a moment. Having been the one to speak about the prophecy, has his name always then been written alongside destiny? If so, then all along, he's been living alongside destiny, in the foul role that he's always been meant to live from birth? Misery for misery has always been his life, and now he understands why. Unfortunately, it looks like will never know anything but what he knows now. How bloody wonderful to be reminded of the fact!
'And you,' he fixes his eyes on her again once again, 'deliverer of these prophecies, do you ever feel guilt?'
Shifting her eyes only a little bit, she replies with, 'It is my gift, Severus.'
'But do you?'
He needs her to answer the question, because having something doesn't take away the feelings which are the results of that possession.
'It is not as wonderful a gift as one would imagine. The burden of knowing...' her head lightly shakes, most likely refusing to thinking along that certain path. 'I am well aware of how everyone thinks of me, the loony clairvoyant, but I too have my own unshared burdens.'
Closer than before, she moves to him and the places one of her hands upon his. For only a flash, his eyes cut to the contact, not really despising it and yet not wholly comfortable with it either.
'It never truly gets any easier, if you must know,' she kindly tells him, although her eyes speak of a much deeper abyss.
It strikes him then that he can identify with the woman before him.
Dear magic, he's losing his mind!
In all of his guilt for the speaking of the prophecy, he is quite possibly grasping at nearest thing that seems to have a basic understanding of burden. He ought to leave and pull himself together in the privacy of his own rooms.
'Sybill.'
He needs a good excuse to leave at once, only, he cannot find one.
'Have some tea, Severus,' she suddenly gets on her feet, her demeanour from before gone. 'It will soothe your troubles. For tonight, at least. Come then, inside here.'
That he cannot bear to say no to her, for fear of being rude when he was the one to come here to her, he is convinced that he is losing his mind. He only hopes that he is doing the right thing by staying.
