DISCLAIMER in Chapter One.
NOTES: Sorry this chapter is coming so late, I've been on holiday for the past week. I hope you like it, and another chapter to follow quickly!
Also, a lot of you have been asking me to go more in-depth with the past relationship between Hermione and Snape. That will be revealed in the coming chapters, piece by piece. All I can say right now is that nothing went on between them when she was a student.
***
Hogwarts Castle was built on high ground, perched atop a mountain. Vast and imposing, it had stood for centuries secure and cool- an oasis in a landscape of rolling hills and thick forests, a fortress surrounded by greenery.
The rough stonework of the massive castle was mellow in the afternoon sunlight, the green, well-watered lawns stretching out to the lake and the Forbidden Forest. It had withstood upheaval and conflict and the ravages of time and weather with the same fortitude that had been in the blood of the four founders of Hogwarts, who had set up a dynasty which was to continue unbroken.
From far away, Hermione saw it. She remembered her first frightened and awestruck glimpse of the place when she had seen it as a child, an intelligent yet unhappy eleven-year-old. This was where she had grown up, had learned everything she knew about magic. She had been a prefect and Head Girl here; she had earned countless O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S. It was in this place that she had met her two best friends. The memories of those times were wonderful, although there had been some rough spots- like all the many times Harry had nearly died. Hermione shuddered just thinking about it.
And then the Great War had started. It had been terrible, simply terrible. Following the example of Cornelius Fudge, almost the entire wizarding world had turned a blind eye to the rising problems, until it had been almost too late.
If it hadn't been for Albus Dumbledore, it WOULD have been too late. He and his faithful followers had worked nonstop to stem the tide of mass killings perpetrated by Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
Most people had thought Dumbledore mad, and Hogwarts had almost been shut down by the Ministry of Magic. In the end, however, it had been Dumbledore and the rest of Hogwarts who had saved the wizarding world and gotten rid of Voldemort for good.
After graduating, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had all joined the growing forces on the side of the Light. Harry had been in the actual physical fighting, Ron had been involved in strategic planning, and Hermione had become an assistant to Severus Snape. Her help had been invaluable in the exhausting mass production of the potions required in war, both offensive and defensive.
Snape had not been happy, to put it lightly. He had always viewed Hermione as an insufferable know-it-all who was too smart for her own good, and his perception of her had not changed after graduation, as she had thought it might.
His attitude had not mellowed in the time they worked together, either. Even her extensive and in-depth knowledge of War Potions had done nothing to appease him.
The first day of their so-called partnership, Hermione had shown up in the dungeons early. It was then she had her first brush with Snape as a full- fledged adult.
His harsh, glowering face had frightened her badly, but worse had been his towering over her, anger and dislike radiating almost visible from him.
"What do you imagine you are doing here?" His deep voice was harsh, violent, and she had stared at him, mesmerized.
"Answer me! What are you doing here?"
"I-I'm helping you make potions."
"Helping me!"
To add to her terror, he had grasped her long brown hair in one hand, jerking her head upwards as he glared down at her from his intimidating height.
"This is not a game, you stupid child! This is a war! If I see any indication that you aren't taking this seriously, I will have you thrown out of here in three seconds flat- that is, if Voldemort hasn't captured you first!"
"Vol-Voldemort?" She stood uncomfortable in his grasp, her slender neck at an unnatural angle as his hard grip on her hair made movement impossible without further pain.
"Yes, Voldemort!" He bent his head and glared at her closely. "The Dark Lord!" he hissed. "A power-hungry wizard who would not think twice about kidnapping an extremely intelligent girl and using her to his own ends!"
"I can't help my intelligence!" she had cried, tears beginning to prick her eyes from panic and pain. "It's just how I am!"
"You don't have to show off so much," he had countered with dark, narrowed eyes, but a little burst of indignation prompted her to defy him.
"I don't show off and you know it! I AM proud of my mind, but I don't go around shoving it in people's faces! You're just jealous because I'm smarter than you!"
For the first time, she had seen the black brows raised in aloof astonishment, the wryly twisted lips.
"Is that what you think, smart girl?"
"Yes! And I hate you because you're hurting my head!"
He had released her at once and stepped easily behind his desk, looking down at her as she had taken her courage in both hands and raised her eyes to him.
"So! I am jealous of you and you hate me? You won't mind, therefore, leaving Hogwarts to await the coming of Voldemort. Better to be an evil wizard's tool than to work with a jealous savage that you hate, eh?"
"Oh!" Her long drawn-out gasp and her clenched hands had emphasized the terror in her huge brown eyes and she had seen, also for the first time, the cold face dissolve into laughter.
With one lithe movement he had come around the desk and pushed her behind her own desk, his strong hands gripping her tiny shoulders, and she dropped into the chair with an exclamation of surprise.
"Perhaps I will not leave you to Voldemort after all," he mocked, laughter in his voice. "You will stay here with me and help me. In all honesty, do you truly think I am jealous of you?"
"No, I don't really think that. I just get upset when people accuse me of boasting." She trailed her hand across the desk, suddenly warm and secure, watching him move back behind his own desk and sit down.
"Do you dislike me, Professor?" she asked in a very small voice.
"But of course I do! You are, after all, smarter than me, as you so rightly pointed out."
There was laughter in his voice and Hermione just knew that he didn't mean it.
For a while she was content to work quietly, glancing up every now and then at Snape. "Would Voldemort really come after me?" she asked after a while, hopeful that he would not, but all the teasing left Snape's voice as he looked up at her.
"Of course he would," he said seriously. "You are one of the smartest witches alive today, and you're very well known because of your friendship with Harry Potter. Voldemort is always looking for new talent to turn over to the Dark Side. It's almost an obsession with him. And he can be very persuasive when he wants to, especially to those vacillating between sides. If he thought that you had any lack of enthusiasm for the War, he would come after you immediately and try to win you over. And even if you didn't agree, he would take you anyway. That's just how Voldemort is. And that's why it's so important for you to be public in your support of the Light, and to stay safely within the walls of Hogwarts. You can't take any chances."
Hermione shivered and Snape returned to work.
"I- I'll be careful," she whispered, and he heard her, because he asked, "Is that a promise?"
"Yes."
"Good. Then I can stop worrying."
"Would you care if Voldemort took me, Professor?" she asked tentatively, wanting somebody to care, and he looked across at her with dark arrogant eyes.
"It would have been better if you had not been brought here," he said evenly, "but as you are here, then yes, I would care, even though you are intelligent and hate me."
She smiled at him with pleasure, her eyes glowing, and for a second he looked straight into the silvery depths, unsmiling, before looking back to his work. He said nothing more, and when at dinner she greeted him with a little smile of friendship, he had coldly ignored her.
*
"Dreaming?" His voice dragged her back into the present, and she looked at him with the cool eyes he had so often turned on her.
"Remembering would perhaps be a better word," she said with no inflection in her voice. "Re-living memories."
"And all of them bad?" he asked quietly.
"Yes! Except for Harry and Minerva, yes!" She closed her mouth firmly and he did not speak again.
*** A/N: Well, this chapter was a bitch to get through, and I'm still not completely happy with it. Let me know what you think!
NOTES: Sorry this chapter is coming so late, I've been on holiday for the past week. I hope you like it, and another chapter to follow quickly!
Also, a lot of you have been asking me to go more in-depth with the past relationship between Hermione and Snape. That will be revealed in the coming chapters, piece by piece. All I can say right now is that nothing went on between them when she was a student.
***
Hogwarts Castle was built on high ground, perched atop a mountain. Vast and imposing, it had stood for centuries secure and cool- an oasis in a landscape of rolling hills and thick forests, a fortress surrounded by greenery.
The rough stonework of the massive castle was mellow in the afternoon sunlight, the green, well-watered lawns stretching out to the lake and the Forbidden Forest. It had withstood upheaval and conflict and the ravages of time and weather with the same fortitude that had been in the blood of the four founders of Hogwarts, who had set up a dynasty which was to continue unbroken.
From far away, Hermione saw it. She remembered her first frightened and awestruck glimpse of the place when she had seen it as a child, an intelligent yet unhappy eleven-year-old. This was where she had grown up, had learned everything she knew about magic. She had been a prefect and Head Girl here; she had earned countless O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S. It was in this place that she had met her two best friends. The memories of those times were wonderful, although there had been some rough spots- like all the many times Harry had nearly died. Hermione shuddered just thinking about it.
And then the Great War had started. It had been terrible, simply terrible. Following the example of Cornelius Fudge, almost the entire wizarding world had turned a blind eye to the rising problems, until it had been almost too late.
If it hadn't been for Albus Dumbledore, it WOULD have been too late. He and his faithful followers had worked nonstop to stem the tide of mass killings perpetrated by Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
Most people had thought Dumbledore mad, and Hogwarts had almost been shut down by the Ministry of Magic. In the end, however, it had been Dumbledore and the rest of Hogwarts who had saved the wizarding world and gotten rid of Voldemort for good.
After graduating, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had all joined the growing forces on the side of the Light. Harry had been in the actual physical fighting, Ron had been involved in strategic planning, and Hermione had become an assistant to Severus Snape. Her help had been invaluable in the exhausting mass production of the potions required in war, both offensive and defensive.
Snape had not been happy, to put it lightly. He had always viewed Hermione as an insufferable know-it-all who was too smart for her own good, and his perception of her had not changed after graduation, as she had thought it might.
His attitude had not mellowed in the time they worked together, either. Even her extensive and in-depth knowledge of War Potions had done nothing to appease him.
The first day of their so-called partnership, Hermione had shown up in the dungeons early. It was then she had her first brush with Snape as a full- fledged adult.
His harsh, glowering face had frightened her badly, but worse had been his towering over her, anger and dislike radiating almost visible from him.
"What do you imagine you are doing here?" His deep voice was harsh, violent, and she had stared at him, mesmerized.
"Answer me! What are you doing here?"
"I-I'm helping you make potions."
"Helping me!"
To add to her terror, he had grasped her long brown hair in one hand, jerking her head upwards as he glared down at her from his intimidating height.
"This is not a game, you stupid child! This is a war! If I see any indication that you aren't taking this seriously, I will have you thrown out of here in three seconds flat- that is, if Voldemort hasn't captured you first!"
"Vol-Voldemort?" She stood uncomfortable in his grasp, her slender neck at an unnatural angle as his hard grip on her hair made movement impossible without further pain.
"Yes, Voldemort!" He bent his head and glared at her closely. "The Dark Lord!" he hissed. "A power-hungry wizard who would not think twice about kidnapping an extremely intelligent girl and using her to his own ends!"
"I can't help my intelligence!" she had cried, tears beginning to prick her eyes from panic and pain. "It's just how I am!"
"You don't have to show off so much," he had countered with dark, narrowed eyes, but a little burst of indignation prompted her to defy him.
"I don't show off and you know it! I AM proud of my mind, but I don't go around shoving it in people's faces! You're just jealous because I'm smarter than you!"
For the first time, she had seen the black brows raised in aloof astonishment, the wryly twisted lips.
"Is that what you think, smart girl?"
"Yes! And I hate you because you're hurting my head!"
He had released her at once and stepped easily behind his desk, looking down at her as she had taken her courage in both hands and raised her eyes to him.
"So! I am jealous of you and you hate me? You won't mind, therefore, leaving Hogwarts to await the coming of Voldemort. Better to be an evil wizard's tool than to work with a jealous savage that you hate, eh?"
"Oh!" Her long drawn-out gasp and her clenched hands had emphasized the terror in her huge brown eyes and she had seen, also for the first time, the cold face dissolve into laughter.
With one lithe movement he had come around the desk and pushed her behind her own desk, his strong hands gripping her tiny shoulders, and she dropped into the chair with an exclamation of surprise.
"Perhaps I will not leave you to Voldemort after all," he mocked, laughter in his voice. "You will stay here with me and help me. In all honesty, do you truly think I am jealous of you?"
"No, I don't really think that. I just get upset when people accuse me of boasting." She trailed her hand across the desk, suddenly warm and secure, watching him move back behind his own desk and sit down.
"Do you dislike me, Professor?" she asked in a very small voice.
"But of course I do! You are, after all, smarter than me, as you so rightly pointed out."
There was laughter in his voice and Hermione just knew that he didn't mean it.
For a while she was content to work quietly, glancing up every now and then at Snape. "Would Voldemort really come after me?" she asked after a while, hopeful that he would not, but all the teasing left Snape's voice as he looked up at her.
"Of course he would," he said seriously. "You are one of the smartest witches alive today, and you're very well known because of your friendship with Harry Potter. Voldemort is always looking for new talent to turn over to the Dark Side. It's almost an obsession with him. And he can be very persuasive when he wants to, especially to those vacillating between sides. If he thought that you had any lack of enthusiasm for the War, he would come after you immediately and try to win you over. And even if you didn't agree, he would take you anyway. That's just how Voldemort is. And that's why it's so important for you to be public in your support of the Light, and to stay safely within the walls of Hogwarts. You can't take any chances."
Hermione shivered and Snape returned to work.
"I- I'll be careful," she whispered, and he heard her, because he asked, "Is that a promise?"
"Yes."
"Good. Then I can stop worrying."
"Would you care if Voldemort took me, Professor?" she asked tentatively, wanting somebody to care, and he looked across at her with dark arrogant eyes.
"It would have been better if you had not been brought here," he said evenly, "but as you are here, then yes, I would care, even though you are intelligent and hate me."
She smiled at him with pleasure, her eyes glowing, and for a second he looked straight into the silvery depths, unsmiling, before looking back to his work. He said nothing more, and when at dinner she greeted him with a little smile of friendship, he had coldly ignored her.
*
"Dreaming?" His voice dragged her back into the present, and she looked at him with the cool eyes he had so often turned on her.
"Remembering would perhaps be a better word," she said with no inflection in her voice. "Re-living memories."
"And all of them bad?" he asked quietly.
"Yes! Except for Harry and Minerva, yes!" She closed her mouth firmly and he did not speak again.
*** A/N: Well, this chapter was a bitch to get through, and I'm still not completely happy with it. Let me know what you think!