Chapter 16
In absolutely no mood to be around people tonight, she arrives to Harry's fifth lesson straight after dinner. Her entire day has been bad and she would honestly just like to finish her homework now so she can get straight into bed after the lesson is over. There's enough time between now and the start of lesson, thus taking a seat, she pulls her books out to begin with her homework. Starting on her work now will leave her free to partially pay attention to the lesson. She may not be allowed to participate, but never was she told that she can't pay attention to what Harry's being taught.
So far, she's taken every one of Snape's words in when it pertains to Occlumency, and although she has not had the chance to practice it the way Harry has, she has been practicing to control her mind and block it off, in the event that she's mentally invaded. If only she could test herself on that. Well, it doesn't matter now, she has to get working on her homework.
Engrossed in her homework, completely neglectful of the time, she barely lifts her head to meet the face of her professor, who just said her name by way of greeting. Other than his quiet, 'Miss Granger,' he seems to have no interest in her. Evidently as long as she is here, her being early does not bother him. It's just as well, she reasons, because her homework wouldn't have completed itself had he chosen to talk to her.
Sometime later, Harry comes in. Again, she is not willing to do more than accept his greeting before returning to her homework. For tonight, she will only be partially involved in what they do, only her ears will pay them some attention. It's through her ears that she confirms their usual routine, that nothing is different tonight. She's still barely paying attention when Harry, apparently frustrated, if the sound of his voice is to be trusted, shouts a shielding spell. Whatever that could mean, she's not particularly interested to watch it happen, so she leaves it be.
Following that, long silence then fills the room, and she, thinking it's too quiet for Snape and Harry, chances a look up. At first, she can't tell what's going on, but when she looks at Harry, finding him wearing a horrified expression and then at Snape, who looks ready to kill Harry, she instantly knows that somewhere during the silence, Harry did something to Snape. Harry must have done something horrible, because all of a sudden, Snape is pointing a shaking hand towards the door.
'Out!' he dangerously whispers to Harry.
'I didn't mean-' Harry tries, only for Snape to angrily cut him off.
'Potter! Leave!' Snape mildly shouts.
Harry, as if just now realising what he's really done, collects his body in fear and then in a flash, flies to the door, disappearing out of it. Seeing this, after the day that she's had, she decides that she does not need this. If Harry is to leave, she will leave as well. In that mind, she hastily begins to pack away her things. Quickly, she puts the last of her things into her bag and then makes a hasty walk for the door. The door, however, suddenly closes right in her face once she reaches it. Confused, she turns back to find out what went wrong. What she finds waiting for her, is the angry face of Snape with his wand pointed directly at the door.
'Where do you think you are going, Miss Granger?'
'Professor! Harry,' she hastily says, grabbing the first thing that comes to her mind. 'I need to go after him. He's upset.'
'And I am not?' he questions her, his anger all over his face.
Precisely because he is upset, she wants to get out of here. Had she been the one to upset him, she would brave out his anger. Although considering the sort of day that she's had and now, how he's punishing her for whatever thing Harry did to him, this is the last place in which she wants to be. She wants to tell him that, but instead, she goes for a truth that should be obvious to him.
'Harry's my friend,' she angrily flings at him, 'and you're-'
'Nothing,' he completes the sentence for her. 'I am perfectly aware of the fact, Miss Granger.'
'I wasn't going to say that,' she fires back at him, 'but you wouldn't know, because you refuse to be reasonable! You wouldn't let Harry apologise to you, and you wouldn't let me finish either.'
'Unreasonable is it?' he disbelievingly poses to her. 'It's welcomed to go through someone's memories without their permission, then?'
So that's what happened, she quickly notes. At least now she knows what Harry's shielding spell resulted in. But even so, she feels the need to defend Harry and most importantly get herself out of here.
'I'm sure that he didn't mean it!' her fold across her chest, causing the bag on her should to slightly move. 'Besides, the way that you've been egging him on, what did you expect in the end?'
'Remind me, did I promise him roses during these lessons, Miss Granger?'
'You didn't, Professor Snape! But common humanity is affording encouragement, not abuse. You didn't show him any common humanity at all. Not once since he began. You were discoursing and mean to him, only hoping that he would fail, just so you could celebrate his failure. You were horrible to him!'
To be quite honest, she no longer cares. If he is going to take his anger out on her, she might as well do something to rightfully deserve it. There's nothing that gives him the right to do this to her as though she is responsible for what Harry did. If he cannot remember, she simply had to be here, nothing else, as per his own words.
'How fatally you wound me, Miss Granger,' he lowly states, clutching a hand to his heart.
From the looks of it, at least from how he lets out a sound that is nothing like a laugh, but probably is supposed to be a mocking version of a laugh, he doesn't care about what she says to him either. Lucky for him, though, that she's had enough spats with him to know that she does have the ability to irritate him. It's for that reason that she marches back from the door to him and crosses the space separating them to stand extremely close to him.
'And your sarcasm draws me near to you, Professor,' she cries with annoyance. 'So, please continue with it, because I long to latch on to you.'
Having said that ridiculously false and of poor quality statement, she takes the last remaining step between them, tilting her head back to have a good view into his eyes. His breathing audible to her, he looks down at her, and while there is a rational part somewhere inside her brain, it's hiding somewhere beneath her irritation, unable to surface and tell her that she's actually face to face with a figure of authority, not a peer of hers.
'Latch onto wherever you please, Miss Granger,' he offers himself, spreading his arms wide on either of his sides, the cloak around him making it appears as though he has great black wings. 'I am here, as you see.'
'Ha! And give you the pleasure?'
She does not think so! He wishes that she would touch him, but she will not. How stupid does he think she is? She won't fall into that trap. Briefly, she believes herself to have won as he lowers his arms to his sides again, accepting his defeat apparently, only, he roughly takes hold of her arm.
'I'll show you pleasure!' he just as roughly tells her.
He begins to pull her along with him, walking deeper into his office, where they reach a door. At the single stroke of a finger, it opens to a concealed little room. Only once inside, does he release her and then closes the door behind her. As she's catching up with everything, he strides over to the only sofa in the room to take a seat in it.
'Thank me now,' he tells her, crossing one leg over the other while using his wand to summon a book from the shelf across from him, 'for I know that nothing will give you more pleasure, than to share my intimate time with me, Miss Granger.'
Why this man!
This isn't what she thought would happen when she decided to irritate him. In fact, he now has the upper hand on her, which does not please her at all. And another thing, how can he simply sit there, carrying on as though he didn't keep her locked in against her will, drag her to a more private room inside of his office and then lock her inside that one too? Who is he to do all that to her and expect that she will not do something of equal measure to him?
He clearly only locked her in here, because she lied and said that she would like to be close to him – which he knows is a lie, hence this whole thing. He will see, she'll go straight for disregarding his personal space. If she does it correctly enough, she'll be kicked out of here in no time at all. With that thought, she moves over to the sofa and plants herself on the arm of it. Her wand, she brings out to point at the bookshelf on the wall across of them, while the other hand eases her bag from her shoulder onto the floor.
'Accio book,' she says as evenly as possible.
While the book is still on its way to her, Snape silently intercepts it with the single raise of his hand, making it go right back to the shelf. Disbelieving of what he just did, she takes a look at the book wide open in his lap, and then at his face. Apparently, he's not bothered by what just happened enough to give her an accompanying expression, that she's led to quickly get up from her seat. Crossing her arms as she does, she comes to a stand in front of him, daring him to give her the attention that she needs from him.
'I'm not just going to sit here doing nothing,' she tells him.
'You have no permission to touch my books,' is his even response.
'You locked me in here with you. I do not want to be in here. I want to go after Harry. If you let me go after him, I wouldn't have to touch your books!'
Now that she's mentioned Harry, she remembers that she really is worried about what Harry. Snape on the other hand, doesn't care one bit about that, it looks like. He's only sitting there, turning the page of the book that he has open. Is he even really reading? If he is reading, doesn't he care about what Harry saw? It was obviously big enough to cause this commotion..
'What did he see in your memories, Professor?' she suddenly wonders.
Sharply, too sharply, in fact, Snape lifts his head to her, his eyes concentrating on her with a firmness that she's not comfortable with, but says nothing to her after all. That he says nothing, can only mean one thing.
'Professor?' she says in what sounds like a whisper to her ears. 'Did he see…? Was it the Ma- Was it the…' Unable to say it, she gestures a hand to the arm that bears the thing to which she is referring, to then ask, 'On your arm?'
'No.'
It's a short, quite curt answer, disappearing as soon as he says it, and he just as curtly returns to his book, not seeing the big sigh of relief that she lets out. Oh, she's so glad that Harry didn't see that. It would've otherwise been impossible to convince him about Snape's involvement with Voldemort.
'I was just worried, Professor,' she begins to confess in the aftermath of her relief. 'Whenever Harry gets upset, he does whatever thing comes into his mind. He's upset tonight, Professor, and I really don't know what he might do.'
'He went into my memories,' he calmly replies, as though reminding her of something long forgotten.
Through that answer, she imagines that he's probably telling her that Harry has no reason to be upset, when he was the one who invaded his privacy.
'And he must feel sorry for that,' she genuinely defends. 'He doesn't like you, but Harry would never want to hurt anyone without a reason. He's a really good person.'
For what at first seems like no reason, Snape places a rigid finger on the page that he is reading, closes the book with his other hand, his finger acting as a mark for the page and then looks at her properly. Only then, seeing the look on his face, does she get an understanding of why he closed his book. It's all there on his face, really; he cannot believe that she just told all that rubbish to him.
'Go after him then,' he simply says, his eyes travelling from her face downwards. 'If he so needs to be as pampered as you want to do, go after him then. Go and soothe his wounds, make him feel better. Continue to pander him for his own errors, as is customary at this wizarding school. Reward his loathsome behaviour as he is used to. Please, Miss Granger, go after him.'
Upon completing, he rises from the sofa. With the hand that closed the book, he directs his wand to her, proceeding to push her away from where she stands her, at the same time unlocking the door that he closed when they came in.
'Go,' he repeats after he has pushed her close enough to the door.
Right then, the hold of his magic leaves her, but instead of using the freedom to leave, she frowns at him, soft indignation bubbling inside of her.
Who does he think he is, actually? He can't just decide to make her stay and go as he pleases. He forced her to stay with him, and now what, he wants her to leave at just the utterance of a word? She's not under his control that he can amuse himself with her. Neither are they friends, that he can treat her this way. Snape is getting too comfortable with her, and she can perfectly do the same!
Thinking like that, she makes the decision to walk to the shelf. He will obviously use his magic to stall her magic if she tries to summon a book, so walking over and manually pulling whatever book her eyes are drawn to, is the best way to go. Once she has a fairly large book in her hand, she walks over to the sofa, once again taking her previous seat. Although he made no protesting sound to any of what she does, she feels his eyes, hot and persistent on her. It's only when she takes her seat that his head methodically turns to acknowledge both her presence and her refusal to readily do as he ordered.
'Go, I said,' he repeats, sounding like her ears were not functioning the first time.
No, I said, she says in her mind. If he can't read her answer from her behaviour, if her ignoring him and then opening up a book to begin reading doesn't say that much to him, then nothing else will.
'Fine!' he softly exclaims, much like a boy who's been denied something. 'Suit yourself, Miss Granger. I care nothing at all.'
Following his words, he sinks into the sofa and reopens his book. She sneaks a look at him from the corner of her eye and she nearly lets out a small snicker at his behaviour.
He thinks that he can fool her? If he really didn't care at all, he wouldn't have said it. Honestly, she doesn't even understand him anymore. Not that she understood him well to begin with, but at least then, when he just regarded her as a student who liked to show off, he was constantly stable in his behaviour towards her. Then, she could nearly always guess what he was likely to do or say in a particular situation, but now, he just fluctuates. He's upset with her one moment, and then seeks her out the next day, only to fight with her, or try to make her feel disrupted in her emotions.
'My parents are dentists,' she says all of a sudden.
The thought just came to her, like an illuminating moment when she wasn't looking for it. He makes no response to it, but that doesn't surprise her.
'Crookshanks doesn't like lizards,' she says again.
'Crookshanks,' he seems to test, but most importantly, reacts to her.
She should take note, first of all, how that was not him asking, it was him stating. Stating and not asking, means that he is listening to her, although not necessarily interested enough to wonder about Crookshanks. That difference is important.
'He catches them and kills them, but he won't eat them,' she fondly explains, unable to separate her emotions from her speech. 'He just flings them away after he kills them. It's a bit annoying really, to discover dead lizards in the house. My dad finds it funny.'
'Your cat, then,' lightly fills the air.
Aha! Just as she thought! Feeling triumphant, she closes her book, gets up to stand before him again, to have a look at him from a different angle. Whether from curiosity or from another thing entirely, he too abandons his book to look at her.
'It's only Harry, who you don't want me to mention to you,' she states her conclusion.
Right away, not even letting a breath squeeze itself between the start of his sentence and the end of hers, he replies with, 'Clearly.'
Unable to stop herself, she smiles in triumph. She was right, Harry is the big issue between them. The seemingly non-contextualised sentences that she spoke before, had been her experiment and now she knows for certain that Harry to Snape is apparently what Snape is to Harry.
'Don't look too pleased with yourself, Miss Granger,' he says to her. 'It was never a secret.'
Well, no, but there have been a few times when they were cross with each other and it didn't have anything to do with Harry. If only he knew the truth about Harry, not his assumptions about him.
'He's not at all like you think, Professor,' she tells him. 'He is a forgiving and kind person. I bet he'd even change his opinion of Malfoy, if he saw Malfoy stitching up a wounded puppy. He's caring, Professor.'
'He is Potter, Miss Granger,' is the stern reply that meets her attempt to beautifully colour Harry to him.
He needs not say much more than that, apparently. That oddly puts a pleasant conclusion to this particular conversation. It's settled then, Snape and Harry do not mix. Had she been advocating for Snape to Harry, his response would've been the exact same. Looking at him now, she simply understands that he just doesn't like Harry. For whatever reason it is, he doesn't like Harry, and that is never going to change.
'Professor?'
First uncrossing his legs after all this time, like he is getting ready to get up, he questioningly looks at her, asking, 'What is it now, Miss Granger?'
'I only… I wanted…' she stammers. 'Professor, I only wanted to say that I'm sorry for pushing you last year. And for now,' she nervously adds. 'I am sorry for now as well. I didn't behave well with you.'
What she means to say is that after going over everything in her head and reaching the conclusion that she has, she feels her part of error in their unpleasant interactions. Many times, she treated him nearly like she would an age mate and for that, she was wrong.
'Very well, Miss Granger,' he nods, regarding her for a bit, 'but know that I have no regard for those who seek the approval of others. Apology for behaviour is one thing, but when you are simply apologising or behaving to gain favour, it becomes extremely dangerous. When the day is over, whether you have a million at your side, who love and praise you, when it's time to close your eyes for sleep, in those few hours, you are truly alone. Only what you think and believe about yourself then, is truly what determines your internal state. You may put on a show for the world, but inside, only you suffer with yourself, not anyone of those whose approval you have.'
She is, quite literally stunned.
Her body all of a sudden doesn't have the capacity to move. Like a spell, Snape's advice stunned her body, to block out all movement and she can do is watch him gather his book into his hands, calmly get up from the sofa and then take the only step between them.
She is now, quite honestly, nervous.
He is upon her. She could smell him if she puts her mind to it. There would be nothing to stop her, if she made the choice to reach out and touch him. Oh, she'll stop breathing soon. He should take his eyes off of her. She's not comfortable with the way that his eyes don't leave her face. If only he could tell how fast her heart is beating, then he wouldn't lean his head down like that, and still there. Close to her face. Oh, something feels so heavy in her throat. This Snape is more intimidating than an angry Snape.
'Do not ever seek my approval,' he finally says to her, just then lifting his head and in the moment that follows, briskly brushes past her.
She tries to organise the fact that he just gave her another piece of advice, while accepting that he just walked past her towards the door. He got that low, that close just so she would have no excuse of ever having heard him tell her that, didn't he? He actually really cares that she remembers that?
She's…
'Tonight, Miss Granger,' he calls, pulling her from her thoughts.
He sounds distant, out of the room, actually, but even so, she is shocked out of her state of immobility by it. She first grabs her bag from the floor before she's spinning on her heels and going after him through the door to the heart of his office. She catches up with him just after he has opened the office door.
'Professor?'
Facing her, he answers, 'Yes?'
What she had been going to say was something related to appreciation for telling her what he did, except, seeing is relatively patient expression, so different from the face that had kicked Harry out of here tonight, makes her change her mind.
'I won't push you again,' she quickly offers in the spirit of establishing rules between them.
Talk about Harry is forbidden. She must never seek his approval. And she should not physically harm him.
'Should I assume that threatening to place your hands on me, is included in that promise?' he shows her an amused look.
'I would never hit you!'
'Perhaps,' he somewhat contemplates. 'You would much rather embrace me. Forcefully, as it were.'
How embarrassing!
'I... I didn't mean it, Professor.'
'I supposed as much,' he softly tells her, at the same time doing something that looks a lot like a secret smile.
Because she doesn't quite know what to make of him sharing a joke with her, she looks to change the subject. As she thought before, a Snape who is not upset or mean, is much more intimidating to be in the presence of.
'Professor, why did I have to be here with Harry? The lessons were his, not mine.'
'It was the Headmaster's doing, not mine.'
'Did he say why?'
To that, he raises his eyebrows. Only that, nothing else. As if he would tell her that, is what the expression tells her. It was worth a try, though.
'Professor?' she calls him one more time, finding that she has something else to ask him.
The manner in which he relaxes his expression, lowering his eyebrows, is enough of a response from him to continue, she supposes.
'May I go through this?' she asks, waving the book that she picked out for him to see.
After that, she holds her breath. She concentrates on that specific task, emotionally deep in the idea that if she keeps her breath held, magic will realise her desperation, and touch him to not say no.
'Not scratched. Not scribbled in. Not amended. Not spelled. Not torn. And not worn,' he evenly lists. 'Precisely like that, I expect it back tomorrow morning.'
Relieved and happy all at once, she break out into a big smile, 'Thank you so much, Professor.'
'Go,' is all he replies with.
That, she does not wait to be told twice, because who in their right mind would go through a whirlwind of a night with Snape, argue with him, attempt to make him uncomfortable, reach some type of resolution with him, receive advice from him, have a normal conversation with him, be offered to keep his sacred property, and still linger around him, when he offers them the chance to leave? Definitely not her, that's for sure.
'Goodnight, Professor,' she bids only once she's disappeared through the door.
26Chapters
The next morning at breakfast, she is a little late to join her two friends at the table. Last minute additions to some of her assignments -due in two weeks- held her back in her room, while the others came down to breakfast.
'Harry?' she places her hand on his back first thing. 'Are you all right?'
He quickly nods, but also says, 'I'm not going back to Snape for Occlumency.'
She wants to ask him why he decided that as much as she wants to explain herself for not being there for him last night. It would be too much of a complicated matter to do both, and so she settles for the lightest, easiest medium between inquiring and explaining.
'I'm sorry, Harry.'
'Don't be sorry,' Ron looks around Harry to tell her. 'It's a good thing, really, when you think about it. I mean, it was with Snape, wasn't it? What you should do, Hermione, is support your friend and also give up brewing for Snape.'
If this boy doesn't stop talking.
How giving up Occlumency is considered a good thing by Ron, she cannot understand. She does, however, understand that trying reason with him so early in the morning, will just put her in an irritated mood before classes even begin. She will just have to give him a short answer, as opposed to giving him a lecture on the more important things in a witch's life.
'I can't,' she says apologetically, specifically looking at Harry, because he is the one who 'apparently' should receive her support.
'It's okay, Hermione,' Harry shows her an understanding smile. 'You actually like what you do.'
Ron on the other hand, takes offence to her apology, or rather, her refusal to give up brewing potions outside of class.
'What do you mean you can't?' he partly demands, even stopping to eat. 'Either Snape is forcing you, or you actually like hanging out with Snape!'
'Rubbish, Ronald!' she impatiently snaps, quickly whipping her head towards the staff table to see if he's there. Finding that he's not, she turns back to Ron, only to finish snapping at him. 'I don't hang out with him! I brew, and he… He does what he does. Besides, I have free periods. I need to fill them with something. What do you suppose I should fill them with?'
'Fill them with the library,' Ron easily provides.
She's slightly impressed with his answer, not having expected it to be the one that he gave her. But even so, the library is always available to her, while the unintentional things that she picks up from the potions that she brews, she would otherwise not know. If she's not being intentional with showing up for brewing outside of class, then she's obviously being intentionally with losing education. When she gives up brewing, it will be because she wants to do it.
