Disclaimer: Goodness, I wouldn't dream of taking credit for JK Rowling's wonderful work. Well, perhaps in my dreams…
I think that I have gone over and proofread this chapter, even more than once, actually, yet I somehow can't really muster the energy to do it again and double check. It's one in the morning and I can't log onto the internet to do my review thanking, so I'm going to post this tomorrow afternoon I suppose. This isn't coherent (the authors note, the story I wrote at a reasonable time. I think.) and I'm sorry about that. Again, I love all who reviewed/will review. By the way, seeing as how I post at such irregular intervals, if anyone would be interested in my creating a mailing list, please either review and tell me so or email me at amariran@yahoo.com Almost done with chapter five, but exams start Wed. and no telling when I will have time to do stuff. Please have fun reading it:D
I'm Looking Through You
Hermione emerged in the shaded lobby area of the Library and immediately bumped into her old Professor.
"Sorry, sir."
"Miss. Granger, I've rather given up hope of you not stumbling into me." Hermione began to blush then realized that that was rather rude of him.
"Please forgive me that fact that you are always in my way."
"I most certainly am not! You are simply an unnaturally klutzy person. Believe me, I would know after having witnessed it for seven long years inside my classroom," he sneered.
"I don't think so, Professor. I rather think you were blind if you missed the fact that I was absolutely perfect in your class." He had goaded her into screaming yet again.
"If your definition of perfect, Miss. Granger, includes turning yourself into a cat…" He trailed off tauntingly.
"That was most certainly not in your classroom!" Outraged. Then softer," You knew about that?"
"Of course I did. Did you imagine that I completely missed the fact that precious ingredients went missing from my stores? I noticed your plunderings in your seventh year as well, but the Headmaster assured me that all was under control in both situations. However, when Poppy had trouble figuring out what you had done to turn yourself into a cat, she called me in."
"You bastard! You could have given me the antidote!!"
"Hmmm, yes, I could have. But why would I?" Hermione had never in her life been at a loss for words and she wasn't about to let it happen now. She opened her mouth to let out a scathing reprimand, when their fight was interrupted by Alby's sharp voice.
"Severus! Hermione! Quit acting like children and lower your voices. I shouldn't have to remind you that this is a library. I will assume that you two are here to continue the research?" His voice turned bland at the last statement. Suddenly, two pairs of furious eyes turned to him as one. The mouth below the glittering chocolate ones spoke first.
"About that, Alby-."
"Did you really find it funny to almost get us killed-." Snape cut in.
"Do you realize that I very nearly lost my job-."
"That I have incredibly important things that I have to do-."
"That neither one of you has had a vacation in two years, I would wager, and apparently still haven't had one?" Alby's voice was even and unrepentant, and both Severus and Hermione realized that they would never get him to even so much as apologize. Severus sighed in resignation and nodded a curt farewell to the librarian. Hermione did the same, and then the man took her arm gingerly and Apparated them both.
***
"Here, this is my flat. Thank you and I'm sorry that I…imposed upon you." Their earlier fight was not yet forgotten, and Hermione's voice was clipped. Severus stared up at the ugly tan building. Dirt ran rampantly across the flat façade, and he was hard-pressed to imagine the girl she had been in Hogwarts settling in such a dreary dump as this. And he had thought himself beyond surprises. Hermione followed his disdainful gaze but refused to be ashamed of her living quarters. Well, she was, but she refused to let him see it. "I would ask you to come up for a drink or something, but I'm afraid your delicate sensibilities would curl up at the sight of the stairwells." She infused as much of the anger that she held for letting herself be this as she could into her cold invitation.
"My delicate sensibilities? Child, I saw gruesome murders before you were even born. I saw men laughing at brutalities so horrible your mind couldn't even begin to imagine them." His crooning voice was meant to unsettle her. It didn't have quite that effect.
"You forget who you're speaking to, Professor. I have, in fact, seen them. If you don't mind, I will bid you a good day." Her voice was flat and formal and he could see that she had forced all emotion from her eyes. How could he have been so damned careless as to forget that this was not just anyone he had been speaking to, but Hermione Granger? He remembered seeing her standing tall in the face of the jeers of the Death Eater's surrounding her. She was right- she had seen a lot. Not as much as he, but that was as it should be. He rarely found himself in such a position, but he now found it necessary to provide her with a heart-felt apology.
"Please forgive me, Miss. Granger. I had indeed forgotten to whom I was speaking, although it was an uncalled for remark in any event. I'm sure that you're apartment is fine."
"I don't want platitudes, Professor. I didn't want them then and I don't want them now. I have a great deal of work to do for you now, so unless you don't want it, I suggest we end this conversation."
"Tuesday, 11 o clock!" he called after her.
"Tuesday, 12 pm sharp," she answered firmly. "Here." With the final word, she vanished through the grimy Plexiglas door. Snape grumbled a bit as he stepped back around the corner and into some shadows to Apparate back to Hogsmeade.
***
Hermione herself detested the stairwell of her apartment. It was filled with scents, the origin of which she rather thought she was better off not knowing. Whatever they were, though, they always managed to fill her with renewed loathing of her situation. She refused to let it get to her today. She was going to go up to her apartment, change her clothing and run to her job. She would be almost two hours late for her check-in time, but that should be negligible considering she was doing a project which required external resources. She quickly opened the door to her flat with the key she fumbled from her bag and entered the small set of rooms. Just a bedroom, a bathroom, and a tiny kitchen/sitting area. Not particularly attractive, although she made sure that they were spotless. She was rather relieved that Snape had refused to come up. Upon reflection, there really wasn't much of anything in her bachelorette fridge and cupboards.
Hermione grabbed the first thing that came into her hands when she reached into her closet and quickly changed. She brushed her hair and teeth again, avoiding her detested mirror, then gathered her things upon again, double checked that she had her wand and went running off to work.
***
Hermione was finished. She was absolutely God damned finished with this stupid, pathetic little man who thought that he had the right to boss her around. Boss her, yes, as he was her employer, but the man was beyond odious. From the glint in his pale, watery eyes she knew that he had been waiting for a chance like this for a long time. Waiting until she was depressed and desperate. Waiting until the perfect time to tell her this.
"Why Miss. Granger. Late again, I see." It was the first time she had ever been late. "Well, this being the third mark on your card, I do believe that I will have the pleasure of dismissing you. Step into my office." He beckoned her into the small, close space, shutting the door firmly behind her frantically arguing form.
"But sir, you can't fire me!"
"Oh, but I can, Miss. Granger, I can. And believe me, I want to." He smiled and Hermione cursed those thin lips.
"Sir, please, it was hardly a misdemeanor; Professor Snape is the only job I currently have and he knows that I was researching for him."
"So…you don't want to lose your job, Miss. Granger?" Hermione would have gotten the oily tone two years ago, when she and Harry and Ron were always on the lookout for tricks, but she simply rushed to assure him of her earnestness.
"No, sir. I'll do anything if you don't fire me. I promise I'll never be late again and all my assignments-." She was cut off by a smug word from her boss
"Too bad."
"But, sir…"
"Well…we could possibly work something out- between you and me." Hermione was at a loss. She had not actually been propositioned in order to keep her job, had she? A greasy chuckle told her she had spoken aloud. "Oh, but if you want to keep it, you will. Too bad you're a mudblood. I don't like to soil myself, but I suppose you'll have to do. Besides, perhaps I can be more…free. So now, you will do anything that I want you to, Granger, if you want to keep the job." The man's lascivious sneer clearly told her what he had in mind.
"Then I quit," Hermione said determinedly. Her statement was apparently cause for another bout of odious laughter.
"You could Miss. Granger. But think about the fact that you have just wasted two years of your life at this company. Two years at a job that not only will give you no recommendations, but will be sure to tell all the other companies that your work simply wasn't up to snuff. We did try to be as lenient as possible, but eventually we had to face the facts that you must have cheated your way through your high marks at school. Or perhaps you slept with your teachers? It wouldn't be so surprising, after all, as you offered to sleep with your boss for a promotion. That was the final straw in our decision to let you go. Now after all that, there won't be a single job of any sort in the wizarding world for you. Your options will be to forsake magick forever, which indeed would please me to no end, or to seek employment where no one cares for qualifications. I'm sure even weak little mind can figure out what sort of work that would be." The man grinned superciliously at her. His features really couldn't carry it off, and even in the midst of her life being torn to bits, she almost burst into laughter. Or perhaps because of it.
"I won't…I can't…but…"
"Yes, well I do believe that I will be kind and generous." Hermione was not so stupid as to believe there was any truth in his words. "I will allow you a day to think over my offer. However, one second after your job starts, I will begin writing my report to those above. Have a lovely day, Miss. Granger."
"You fucking bastard! You know damn well that this choice is-." All of Hermione's rage bubbled out. Gavin's eyes glinted warningly.
"I would be careful about what you say were I you, Miss. Granger." Hermione had no choice but to heed his warning. Pressing her lips together and biting the inside of her lip so that she soon tasted the sour sweet of her own blood, she got out of the room as fast as she could.
"I'm letting you go see if you can find a solution, but only because I know you can't. Your life is mine now, Granger."
Hermione practically broke into a run at his words, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She somehow got out of the building without throwing up in Gavin's putrid, cadaverous face. Once out into the air of a muggy London, she took deep breaths of the early summer air. The smog caused her to choke and she ended up being the object of stares from several passers-by. When she recovered, she realized she wasn't certain where she was to go. No, she definitely did. There was only one person who almost always made everything right. She stepped into the shadows most used by those of the office for Apparation.
***
Severus Snape sighed as he relaxed into the comfortable chair behind his desk. He had no need of freshening up, as everything he had wanted was at his own house, so he had enjoyed the morning walk up from Hogsmeade and told Remus what had happened. He had rather enjoyed Remus's reaction as to where, or rather with whom he had spent the night. He had, however, assured the Gryffindor that all was safe for Miss. Granger. There was a hefty stack of paper on his desk, although he had not been gone all that long. He swore the fucking things bred themselves right there on the top of his escritoire. Well, there was nothing for it but to get on with it. At least he had made some headway with paperwork this morning while Miss. Granger read Marceau. She would most likely be finished with the book by Tuesday, when they met for lunch, and he was sure she wouldn't mind relinquishing it to him then. Thoughts of Miss. Granger quickly turned to thoughts of the woman walking down the staircase of his ancestral home… He knocked those thoughts out of his head as soon as he realized consciously that he was fantasizing over a former student. That was sick and depraved. And he couldn't help but wonder what she would like walking down those stairs in, well, less than she had been wearing. Would her neck be as pretty as it had-fuck! He wasn't sure what had gotten into him. He shifted a little uncomfortably in the soft chair, picked up his paper and set his quill to dictation, ready for a few hours of blessed mindlessness.
***
Harry Potter was relaxing; not an occupation all that common for him. The boy, really a man now, was constantly on the go between Quidditch practices and games and his girlfriend, a Charms teacher at Beauxbaxtons. He had never thought of the implications of magick on long-distance relationships until he had met Mireille. They saw each other almost everyday after his practices and she came to as many of his games as possible. He didn't think she knew, but he was going to propose soon. In fact, he wanted to get the ring today; the reason he had told her that he had some urgent business he had to get taken care of. He wanted someone else's opinion, but Ron was off in America and he wasn't very sure where to find him. Besides, although Ron was doing pretty well with his own steady girlfriend, Melanie was as different from Mireille as one could get. And both were a far cry from Hermione, thought Harry wryly. He really regretted that they weren't able to get together very often, but she was always working. He and Ron had begun to feel as though she was embarrassed, but the idea had seemed so absurd. Imagine, Hermione, the brainy, crazy girl who had blossomed in their sixth and seventh years, embarrassed about something. Why, her courageous role in the downfall of Voldemort would put such a thought in the dust. Still, there had been something more than subtly off about her in the past few months. He knew that she regretted her job, no matter that she didn't say anything, but he also knew that Hermione would perceive quitting as failure, something she avoided at all costs. Well, he'd deal with Hermione next week when they got together for their monthly dinner. Today, he was going to find the prettiest ring the wizarding world had to offer for his hopefully soon-to-be fiancé. Whistling, Harry cleaned his juice glass with a flick of his wand and stretched in the golden sunshine of a late morning in May in the English countryside. He had to walk out in his yard to get out of the anti-Apparition wards that had been a necessity when he had bought the house. He locked his door and looked pensively down his shade-dappled gravel driveway, only to discover a shaking heap just where the wards ended. He muttered a quick eagle-eye spell. HERMIONE!!
***
Hermione was firmly ensconced in a cozy chair in Harry's living room and had a cup of ice water half-drunk before she was able to speak sensibly. Harry had the good sense not to wonder aloud at this uncharacteristic display of emotion from such a self-reliant person. He just kneeled before his crying friend, muttering soothing noises until she had calmed down enough to talk.
"I'm so sorry" were the first words out of her mouth. She went on quickly. "I don't know what came over me…you aren't even usually home right now, and since you are I'm sure that you have someplace to go. It's just a little thing with my-hip-job." She hiccupped in the middle of her explanation and stopped, waiting for the hiccups to go away. Harry took advantage of her moment of silence.
"Shit, Hermione, anything that can make you act like this is well worth my time no matter what I was doing. And I know Ron would feel the same. We are still your best friends, 'Mione. I know that we've grown apart, but nothing will ever change that. I'm going to pull up a chair and you are going to clear off your glasses and tell me what happened and we are going to plan a horrible, gory death for whoever made you cry like this. Race you to find the most painful curse..." Harry smiled at the more composed woman who would always be his best friend and handed her a handkerchief. After all, how could he forget someone who had saved his life over and over again since he was eleven?
Hermione managed a smile as she took the square of cloth, but it quickly faded when she thought about all the things Gavin thought he could do to her. Harry didn't seem to notice. Severus would've. Where the hell had that come from? She pushed the errant thought from her mind and focused on telling Harry all of Gavin's threats. Harry frowned when she was done.
"I'm not so sure whether he was bluffing or not. I've been more involved with the wizard worl than you have, but I still don't know how possible this is. I think we need to find someone who was born to the wizarding world. An adult, preferably. Arthur has enough on his hands, Molly is busy with Bill and his wife's new baby, and Dumbledore is off with Ron in American on Wheezes business…" Harry trailed off in puzzlement. Then they both spoke at the same time.
"Severus."
"Sirius."
They looked at each other in confusion and amusement.
"Where did Snape come from? You have to admit that going to my godfather makes sense to me, at least, but our old Potions Professor? Although he is the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and a damn good man to have at your back in a fight. Hm."
Hermione wondered precisely what she should tell Harry. Would he be angry at her for spending the night at Severus's house? No, that was ridiculous; not only had they not done anything, but she was a grown woman and responsible for her own choices. "Well, he commissioned a research project about my work with the Unforgivable Potions and their correlation with the curses and how I used them when we were planning the defeat of Voldemort. Looking back at actions that simply seemed intuitive at the time is really fascinating. For instance, did you know-." Harry started laughing and Hermione stopped, realizing that she had slipped back into lecture-the-boys-in-the-vain-hope-they-get-something-in-their-brains mode. She grinned back at him, relieved that she could still find humor in the situation. She could only imagine her reaction if Severus had not helped her break the block to her depression. "Anyhow, that's why he popped in my mind. And because…" Hell, he was her best friend. She could tell him, right? "I got stuck at his house last night. It sounds really weird, and believe me, it was. He managed to get us through his ant-Apparation wards but there was no way to get back out until the Library we got, er, thrown out of opened up again in the morning. It was quite nice, actually." Harry stared at her with a look she didn't understand. She had half-expected revulsion or perhaps ridicule, but she wasn't sure about this pensive, thoughtful look her best friend fixed upon her. "W-we, didn't sleep together or anything, Harry…"
"Course not, 'Mione. So that explains it, anyhow. Well, I suppose it's off to Hogwarts then. I doubt both of them will be available at the same time anyways. Sirius's job with the DADA job keeps him pretty damn busy, not to mention Severus's Headmaster duties." And he was back to the Harry she knew and loved.
"You call him Severus?"
"Sure, I have to see him a lot about different things…you know that I'm pretty active with politics. I'm actually thinking about running for Minister when Arthur decides to retire. It's a huge responsibility, I know, but it isn't as though I haven't had the weight of the wizarding world on my shoulders before. Though it was actually mostly you and Ron… Maybe I should think about a lesser job, instead…" Harry had never had enough confidence in his abilities; he wasn't just posturing.
"Potter, get yourself together and in a couple of years, I want seats in the Minister's box for the World Quidditch Cup!" She mocked what she figured Ron would say. Harry caught on and laughed.
"Hermione, that might work better if you could stand to even watch a Quidditch game!" She gave him a mock swat which he easily evaded.
"So, shall we go?" she asked.
"Right now." Harry set the glass she still held in her hand on his coffee table and pulled her out of the comfortable chair. He frowned when he realized how light she was.
"Later, Harry. Let's just take care of this problem first," Hermione said firmly, nodding at the envelope she held as they walked out into the sunshine. Harry nodded in silent agreement and they Apparated to Hogsmeade.
***
The Three Broomsticks was an oasis in her memory; the place that she and Harry and Ron had frequented in their Seventh Year when Things Got Too Much. Even now, the sight of Madam Rosmerta wiping countertops gave her a feeling of comfort. They gave her a quick nod and walked out into the streets of Hogsmeade. They didn't want to run into any students using their secret passages. They made admirable time and almost before Hermione realized it, she was confronted with a sight she had not witnessed in the last two years and had not thought she would see again: The grand front of Hogwarts Castle. The view still took her breath away with its majesty. She remembered her first journey here and her very first thought: so this is where I belong… And she remembered the carriage ride away into the vast future, feeling as though she was leaving a part of her. Now that part was replaced and she was whole again. She looked at Harry to see how it affected him, but she had forgotten that he came here often. He was simply waiting patiently for her. Once he had ascertained that she was ready to walk on, they walked past the lake and to the front door. Hermione looked at Harry a little when the door opened wide for him, but he just shrugged at her.
"Sirius or Severus first?" he asked her. She twisted her mouth in thought.
"Sirius, I suppose." Harry just nodded and they walked as one to the man's office. Harry got there a step before Hermione and he knocked. Once. Twice. Three times. After each set of knocks, they waited for any sign of life in the office, any sound. Juts as they were turning to head up to the Headmaster's office, they saw the man they were looking forward coming down the hall to them. He caught sight of them and began to walk faster.
"Oy, Harry! Did you get the ring already? I want to see it. Hello, Mione, dear, how are you doing- off from work? Everything all right then, guys? Let's go into my office." Both young adults followed him in as he undid the wards on the door, silent and slightly shell-shocked. Sirius had that affect on people with his effusive and loud chatter. Harry had privately decided it was a hidden effect of Azkaban and took it with good cheer. After all, he loved his godfather. It took Sirius a few moments to realize that he was the only one talking. That was not unusual to him, however he also caught on that both Harry and Hermione seemed rather glum. To put it mildly. He broke off in the middle of a sentence when he saw the tear tracks on Hermione's face.
"What's wrong, guys? Something with 'Mione?" Hermione nodded slowly, took a deep breath, and began her story. Sirius sat in thought for a moment. Then he looked up with an uncharacteristically sober face. "Well, the truth is that, yes, the wizarding community, in Great Britain, at least, is so small that a person truly set on ruining you could do it with rumors. But you'd still have your friends who know the truth, and you do have some friends in pretty high places," here Sirius looked meaningfully at Harry, who blushed, "Not to mention Arthur and even, I suppose, Severus." Both men were slightly startled as Hermione shook her head in firm negation of the second.
"I don't want any of you to ask Snape about this, or even tell him. I know I proposed going to see him before" she turned to her confused friend," But, well, I changed my mind. This is much too embarrassing and unimportant and he just doesn't need to know." She spoke firmly, adding to her self, plus I don't want him to know how truly screwed up my life is. It would only make him think even less of her than he already did.
"So what are you going to do, Mione?" Trust Sirius to get to the point.
"There's only one thing she can do; give her notice and hightail it out of there," Harry said firmly. Godfather and son looked over at Hermione who had spoken so softly that neither could make out her words, even in as close quarters as Sirius's office was.
"I'm actually not certain I can," Hermione repeated a little more loudly.
"But 'Mione, you said yourself what he wants you to do." Harry's voice was filled with revulsion.
"Yes, well, Harry, what else am I supposed to do?" Hermione snapped and jumped up out of the chair, running out of the office and then out of the castle into the deceptively fine day. She should have known Harry would follow her.
"Hermione Tricia Granger, you turn right around and I want you to listen closely to me. You are not going to give up. You don't know how to give up; I don't even think the phrase is in your mental dictionary. Answer me this; did you give up when you stood in that circle of Death Eaters, watching them torture the muggles they captured? Did you even give up when they began to torture you? Now, I don't think you need me to give you the answer to that question. No more shit, Hermione. You're going to do what's right for you, and I'm not going to make that decision for you. But I am going to tell you that you…are…not…fucking…giving…up." Harry spaced his words out to give them more meaning. Hermione stared at her best friend as though he had grown another head. How foolish of her to forget the well of granite that lay beneath his normal calm exterior. Harry meant what he was saying, and Hermione realized that he was right. She didn't want to admit it, but he was. It made her absolutely furious. She took a deep breath, then expelled it. Then another one. By her fourth she began to feel lightheaded, but she wasn't any less angry.
"Harry, I understand what you are saying and I…may agree, but I need to sort this out on my own. And right now, all I want to do is get out my wand and hex you into oblivion." She spoke quietly, her voice shaking a little in the effort to control herself. Harry, his own determination hidden once again, nodded and cringed a bit. He and Ron had both managed to get on the bad side of Hermione's well-hidden temper, and neither was very eager to repeat the experience. Most people didn't realize it, but Hermione made an even more formidable foe than he himself; something the Death Eaters that fateful night had discovered the hard way.
"I understand. I'm going to go…talk to Sirius, now." Harry made his way back to the castle as swiftly as he could while Hermione stalked away from it. Once she was outside the ward, she took a deep breath in order to calm herself; it would be just the thing to splinch herself now. She was in her apartment before she had even realized that she had walked there. She sat on her sofa, stood up, paced the room a few times, sat down, stood up, walked to her kitchen, paced a while more, and, exhausted, sat on her counter. She had known the answer even before she got to the flat.
Okay, going to do this as fast as possible, as I must leave for Reading Day in less than half an hour. I think I'll post this when I come home for lunch. Please, please let me know whether you have enjoyed this story or not and what is or is not working for you; feedback will set the muses doing pretty little aerial loops, which rally amuses the author. So, for my review replies: Much thanks to my anonymous reviewer (are you the same anonymous reviewer as before) and tkmd for their words of encouragement.
Deritine: Your comments were interesting, but I have a feeling that the muses in my head really prefer to take things slowly, and they put lots of odd twists in it. Thanks:D
MadAboutHarry: Thanks for clarifying that. Hmm, I don't know whether its foreshadowing or not, the muses put it in there. I'm glad you like, but I wil warn you that after this chapter, your internal vision of Hermione is going to get twisted even further, and then, if the muses let me, it'll go back
Veresna Ussep: Goodness, it was difficulot enough even finding a slice of time that would allow me to acess my reviews and post. Grr. Oh, yes, that is in your story; I story for which sequel I am wating glued to my…textbook, yes that's it. I;m studying not reading wonderfully written fanfics. I'm not so sure when or if or what on earth the muses want; I really do have no control over this story.
Madeleine Jete: Yeah, I know how that goes; don't worry about reviewing, I just enjoy knowing that I'm not writing (a fanfiction story, not my personal stuff) to no one. And the feedback you give is rather useful. That's true, I didn't really think about the other eating disorders. Thank you, and I hope this isn't late.
Mashiara: Glad you like it an thanks ever so for telling me about that mistake; I went and fixed it as soon as I got your review
Janet: *sighs over the vagaries of my best friend* maybe I should just call you…anyhow, they are *not* going to start "pulling" within a half of chapter or so, no matter if it is Britspeak. Further proof of insanity, but I love you for reviewing.
Military Brat: Yeah, fluffy just to be fluffy doesn't work well with my muses. And oh, no, they probably would have the thrown my entire laptop at you if you hadp praised me and not them…*ouch* see what I mean *rubs head, smiles as MilitaryBrat*