Chapter Five
In which they have dinner and Hermione has another dream
They walked together to a small restaurant on Diagon Alley, thankfully far from the entrance to Knockturn Alley, where they managed to finagle a small table in a dark corner. Severus looked very thoughtful as they silently waited for their food, which would not take long. It was, after all, not a muggle restaurant, although those were becoming quite fashionable.
"Were you surprised, Hermione?" he asked her.
"Hmmm?" she questioned, having been lost in her own thoughts as well.
"What I did. Were you ... surprised?"
"Well, yes, I think I was. I didn't believe that you could ever ..." she said, trailing off uncomfortably.
"Funny. There was a time when I didn't think I could kill either." he said as their meal arrived. The waiter gave Severus an odd look before hurrying away.
"For what it's worth, I know that in your past you made mistakes... and I know you are a different person now. I can see both sides of the coin. I know what you did for our side in the final battle too."
Severus smiled hesitantly and touched her hand across the table.
"Then you may be the only one. And I am grateful."
She looked into his eyes, the depths of them suddenly growing warm, and smiled too.
"Now if only I can find a way to save you from Azkaban ..." she thought to herself, saying nothing as they turned their attention to their meal. To say anything more would have been too difficult.
It was long after nightfall when they left the restaurant and began walking down the street. It was chilly and relatively quiet. After a block or so, Severus paused at the entrance to a ramshackle residential hotel. Hermione stopped too.
"This is where I'm living at the moment. I didn't want to risk a long commute, especially without a wand." he explained.
"I understand." she said.
"Would you ... Would you like to come up? Have a nightcap perhaps?" he questioned hesitantly.
Hermione was surprised by the invitation, and part of her desperately wanted to accept, even though she knew that she shouldn't. But that little part of her mind, possibly the same part that had sent her on mad quests with Harry and Ron, was very strong for its supposed size.
"I suppose a nightcap would be quite nice." she said with a smile.
Severus could not hide his surprise. He had anticipated a very painful 'no' to be her response, or possibly laughter.
"Excellent." he said, offering her his arm and escorting her into the building.
His room, or rather set of rooms, that he was renting for the month was quite elegantly decorated. Hermione had expected something more dungeon like. She made herself comfortable on the couch, watching him prepare two glasses at a nearby table. Severus's hands were still shaking, she noticed. Upon reflection it had been a rough day. That was obvious, but how much worse had it been for him?
"If only I could make it better ..." she began to muse before stopping herself.
Severus pressed a glass of wine into her hand before settling down next to her.
"You were with me every day for months and I never knew. No wonder I came running to you in my hour of need." he said, taking a sip of his drink.
"Please, do we really need to discuss that now?" she asked, sipping her wine.
"If you will answer honestly one question for me, then we need not speak on the subject again tonight if you do not wish it."
"Fine." she agreed.
"Why?"
She rubbed her eyes for a moment, remembering how brave he had been, how un-Slytherin, when he stood over Harry to protect him. And then, how broken, how terribly injured as he lay in the hospital wing somewhere between life and death. It was all so long ago ... but none of the emotion, none of the memory had faded. She had stayed because she had seen something in him that she could not bear to see lost. Some could call it goodness. Some, humanity. Whatever its name, she had beheld something in Severus Snape that she had loved.
"Hermione?"
"I stayed because I didn't want to lose you ... not after all that you did, not after everything that I saw in you." she managed to say before downing her glass of wine and blinking away more tears.
"But I was always such a horrible beast to you." he said, shaking his head in bewilderment. His cheeks had become infused with a hint of scarlet.
"I know." she chuckled. "But that was just your way ... and I know why now. You never wanted anyone to get close enough to see the real you."
"I feel suddenly transparent."
"Is that such a bad thing, Severus?"
"Not with you."
Before she realized it, Severus leaned toward her and began kissing her softly upon the lips. She closed her eyes for a blissful moment.
"Hermione Granger! You are kissing a client! This is highly inappropriate! Do you even realize the kind of trouble ....?" her brain screamed as her eyes flew open.
She jerked away from him suddenly, her glass falling to the floor and shattering into tiny glittering shards. The pained look in his eyes was unmistakable.
"Severus ..." she began, feeling painfully stupid and regretful at the same time.
"I apologize. I should not have attempted to force my affections upon you ... twice in one day." he said.
"No, no, you weren't ... It's just ... There are rules." she stammered, leaving the comfortable couch as he came to his feet.
"Yes, there are. Rules. I should understand rules." he agreed, berating himself.
"Severus, I do ... I do ... have these feelings for you ... and nothing would make me happier than to act upon them, but don't you see! If we chose to do anything ... If I stayed with you tonight, then I couldn't help you anymore!" she said loudly, the tears finally falling from her eyes and cascading down her cheeks.
His face twisted for a moment and he nodded that he understood. He clenched one hand into a fist and looked away.
"Hermione ... go then ... please." was all that Severus could tell her.
It had been years since Hermione had cried herself to sleep. She wasn't a little girl anymore. It was silly, she told herself, to cry over a man she had not seen in four years, a man with a past, a man part villain and part hero. She knew he could never see himself in those terms, as heroic or brave, but she had glimpsed those qualities in him. As she lay curled up under her covers, she was torn between longing and despair, knowing both what she felt for him and that his fate was not likely to be a pleasant one. She wasn't sure when sleep finally overcame her, a mercy in and of itself, and she could not remember dreaming that night either.
But during the hours not so long before sunrise, a light rapping at her window awakened her. She knew the sound: an owl's beak against glass. She threw on a housecoat against the chill and went to the window. A small snowy white owl sat there. It was Finwig, one of Hedwig's offspring. Hermione smiled with relief as she let the bird inside. It dropped a small letter into her hands before finding a corner in which to warm up. Hermione opened the letter anxiously.
"Dear Hermione, I am so sorry you've missed Harry. He just went to Ireland with the team. I read your letter because I assumed it was urgent. Looks like I was right. And I forwarded it to Harry, who is certain to receive it in a day or so. I know Professor Snape was horrible to most you, Harry especially, but I do wish you luck, although I can't imagine how you ended up with his case. Sincerely, Cho Chang-Potter."
Hermione collapsed into a chair with a sigh. So much for wishful thinking. It would be the better part of the allotted week before she would hear from Harry, taking into account the age of his beloved owl and his tendency to put things off, especially unpleasant things.
She put the letter on her desk and scratched out a brief thank-you note for Cho before sending Finwig back out into the cold, much to the little owl's dismay. Then she crept back to bed and tried to make good use of the last few hours of sleep she could get. And this time, she dreamed.
It was the long, dark passageway again. Her feet, no longer heeding her will, carried her relentlessly forward, toward the pale and unwholesome light at the end of the tunnel. The footsteps following her were quiet and few in number, almost like ghosts or memories that had floated from a Pensieve, soon to go to nothingness. She was all but alone this time.
"Someone ... someone will be waiting this time too." she thought miserably, but no one impeded her progress through the corridor's exit and into the courtroom. But she paused nonetheless.
A chair with restraints ... and someone restrained therein. He was sitting still, motionless, with his head hanging down, framed by soft, lustrous locks of jet black hair that stood out in relief against his pale skin. Another figured, robed and hooded, not a Death Eater, perhaps a prosecuting attorney or perhaps something else, came into view.
"He will not answer! Sentence him now!" the figured cried out, looking up into the galleries. They were packed with hundreds of scowling, nameless witches and wizards.
"Wait!" she heard herself cry out, rushing forward.
She walked to the chair and lifted the chin of its prisoner. His skin was cold. His body, lifeless. She could hear herself let out a bloodcurdling scream of anguish that echoed through the courtroom.
Her stomach lurched as she bolted upright in bed. She rushed to the bathroom and threw up loudly and painfully, sinking to the cold floor when she had finished. Her throat was raw, but as the images of her dream lingered, Hermione found herself wanting to scream again. Not that it would have helped. She couldn't imagine anything that would, other than perhaps using a dreamless sleep potion until this matter was attended to.
There was nothing else to be done, she decided, but to get cleaned up and go to the office.
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A/N: Question of the day: It's unethical for a lawyer to get romantically involved with her client. Am I right about this? Because I think Hermione would always do the ethical thing (Gyrffindor mind set, right?).
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, mandy, linnetjo, EireVerde, cloudshape, Girly_Vamp, and Jenni!
On the topic of squeamishness (see reviews), I don't think Hermione was that disturbed by what she saw. I tried to write somewhere toward the middle between disturbed/ squeamish and callous. I didn't think Hermione should be either.
Sorry this chapter isn't quite as long.
In which they have dinner and Hermione has another dream
They walked together to a small restaurant on Diagon Alley, thankfully far from the entrance to Knockturn Alley, where they managed to finagle a small table in a dark corner. Severus looked very thoughtful as they silently waited for their food, which would not take long. It was, after all, not a muggle restaurant, although those were becoming quite fashionable.
"Were you surprised, Hermione?" he asked her.
"Hmmm?" she questioned, having been lost in her own thoughts as well.
"What I did. Were you ... surprised?"
"Well, yes, I think I was. I didn't believe that you could ever ..." she said, trailing off uncomfortably.
"Funny. There was a time when I didn't think I could kill either." he said as their meal arrived. The waiter gave Severus an odd look before hurrying away.
"For what it's worth, I know that in your past you made mistakes... and I know you are a different person now. I can see both sides of the coin. I know what you did for our side in the final battle too."
Severus smiled hesitantly and touched her hand across the table.
"Then you may be the only one. And I am grateful."
She looked into his eyes, the depths of them suddenly growing warm, and smiled too.
"Now if only I can find a way to save you from Azkaban ..." she thought to herself, saying nothing as they turned their attention to their meal. To say anything more would have been too difficult.
It was long after nightfall when they left the restaurant and began walking down the street. It was chilly and relatively quiet. After a block or so, Severus paused at the entrance to a ramshackle residential hotel. Hermione stopped too.
"This is where I'm living at the moment. I didn't want to risk a long commute, especially without a wand." he explained.
"I understand." she said.
"Would you ... Would you like to come up? Have a nightcap perhaps?" he questioned hesitantly.
Hermione was surprised by the invitation, and part of her desperately wanted to accept, even though she knew that she shouldn't. But that little part of her mind, possibly the same part that had sent her on mad quests with Harry and Ron, was very strong for its supposed size.
"I suppose a nightcap would be quite nice." she said with a smile.
Severus could not hide his surprise. He had anticipated a very painful 'no' to be her response, or possibly laughter.
"Excellent." he said, offering her his arm and escorting her into the building.
His room, or rather set of rooms, that he was renting for the month was quite elegantly decorated. Hermione had expected something more dungeon like. She made herself comfortable on the couch, watching him prepare two glasses at a nearby table. Severus's hands were still shaking, she noticed. Upon reflection it had been a rough day. That was obvious, but how much worse had it been for him?
"If only I could make it better ..." she began to muse before stopping herself.
Severus pressed a glass of wine into her hand before settling down next to her.
"You were with me every day for months and I never knew. No wonder I came running to you in my hour of need." he said, taking a sip of his drink.
"Please, do we really need to discuss that now?" she asked, sipping her wine.
"If you will answer honestly one question for me, then we need not speak on the subject again tonight if you do not wish it."
"Fine." she agreed.
"Why?"
She rubbed her eyes for a moment, remembering how brave he had been, how un-Slytherin, when he stood over Harry to protect him. And then, how broken, how terribly injured as he lay in the hospital wing somewhere between life and death. It was all so long ago ... but none of the emotion, none of the memory had faded. She had stayed because she had seen something in him that she could not bear to see lost. Some could call it goodness. Some, humanity. Whatever its name, she had beheld something in Severus Snape that she had loved.
"Hermione?"
"I stayed because I didn't want to lose you ... not after all that you did, not after everything that I saw in you." she managed to say before downing her glass of wine and blinking away more tears.
"But I was always such a horrible beast to you." he said, shaking his head in bewilderment. His cheeks had become infused with a hint of scarlet.
"I know." she chuckled. "But that was just your way ... and I know why now. You never wanted anyone to get close enough to see the real you."
"I feel suddenly transparent."
"Is that such a bad thing, Severus?"
"Not with you."
Before she realized it, Severus leaned toward her and began kissing her softly upon the lips. She closed her eyes for a blissful moment.
"Hermione Granger! You are kissing a client! This is highly inappropriate! Do you even realize the kind of trouble ....?" her brain screamed as her eyes flew open.
She jerked away from him suddenly, her glass falling to the floor and shattering into tiny glittering shards. The pained look in his eyes was unmistakable.
"Severus ..." she began, feeling painfully stupid and regretful at the same time.
"I apologize. I should not have attempted to force my affections upon you ... twice in one day." he said.
"No, no, you weren't ... It's just ... There are rules." she stammered, leaving the comfortable couch as he came to his feet.
"Yes, there are. Rules. I should understand rules." he agreed, berating himself.
"Severus, I do ... I do ... have these feelings for you ... and nothing would make me happier than to act upon them, but don't you see! If we chose to do anything ... If I stayed with you tonight, then I couldn't help you anymore!" she said loudly, the tears finally falling from her eyes and cascading down her cheeks.
His face twisted for a moment and he nodded that he understood. He clenched one hand into a fist and looked away.
"Hermione ... go then ... please." was all that Severus could tell her.
It had been years since Hermione had cried herself to sleep. She wasn't a little girl anymore. It was silly, she told herself, to cry over a man she had not seen in four years, a man with a past, a man part villain and part hero. She knew he could never see himself in those terms, as heroic or brave, but she had glimpsed those qualities in him. As she lay curled up under her covers, she was torn between longing and despair, knowing both what she felt for him and that his fate was not likely to be a pleasant one. She wasn't sure when sleep finally overcame her, a mercy in and of itself, and she could not remember dreaming that night either.
But during the hours not so long before sunrise, a light rapping at her window awakened her. She knew the sound: an owl's beak against glass. She threw on a housecoat against the chill and went to the window. A small snowy white owl sat there. It was Finwig, one of Hedwig's offspring. Hermione smiled with relief as she let the bird inside. It dropped a small letter into her hands before finding a corner in which to warm up. Hermione opened the letter anxiously.
"Dear Hermione, I am so sorry you've missed Harry. He just went to Ireland with the team. I read your letter because I assumed it was urgent. Looks like I was right. And I forwarded it to Harry, who is certain to receive it in a day or so. I know Professor Snape was horrible to most you, Harry especially, but I do wish you luck, although I can't imagine how you ended up with his case. Sincerely, Cho Chang-Potter."
Hermione collapsed into a chair with a sigh. So much for wishful thinking. It would be the better part of the allotted week before she would hear from Harry, taking into account the age of his beloved owl and his tendency to put things off, especially unpleasant things.
She put the letter on her desk and scratched out a brief thank-you note for Cho before sending Finwig back out into the cold, much to the little owl's dismay. Then she crept back to bed and tried to make good use of the last few hours of sleep she could get. And this time, she dreamed.
It was the long, dark passageway again. Her feet, no longer heeding her will, carried her relentlessly forward, toward the pale and unwholesome light at the end of the tunnel. The footsteps following her were quiet and few in number, almost like ghosts or memories that had floated from a Pensieve, soon to go to nothingness. She was all but alone this time.
"Someone ... someone will be waiting this time too." she thought miserably, but no one impeded her progress through the corridor's exit and into the courtroom. But she paused nonetheless.
A chair with restraints ... and someone restrained therein. He was sitting still, motionless, with his head hanging down, framed by soft, lustrous locks of jet black hair that stood out in relief against his pale skin. Another figured, robed and hooded, not a Death Eater, perhaps a prosecuting attorney or perhaps something else, came into view.
"He will not answer! Sentence him now!" the figured cried out, looking up into the galleries. They were packed with hundreds of scowling, nameless witches and wizards.
"Wait!" she heard herself cry out, rushing forward.
She walked to the chair and lifted the chin of its prisoner. His skin was cold. His body, lifeless. She could hear herself let out a bloodcurdling scream of anguish that echoed through the courtroom.
Her stomach lurched as she bolted upright in bed. She rushed to the bathroom and threw up loudly and painfully, sinking to the cold floor when she had finished. Her throat was raw, but as the images of her dream lingered, Hermione found herself wanting to scream again. Not that it would have helped. She couldn't imagine anything that would, other than perhaps using a dreamless sleep potion until this matter was attended to.
There was nothing else to be done, she decided, but to get cleaned up and go to the office.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Question of the day: It's unethical for a lawyer to get romantically involved with her client. Am I right about this? Because I think Hermione would always do the ethical thing (Gyrffindor mind set, right?).
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, mandy, linnetjo, EireVerde, cloudshape, Girly_Vamp, and Jenni!
On the topic of squeamishness (see reviews), I don't think Hermione was that disturbed by what she saw. I tried to write somewhere toward the middle between disturbed/ squeamish and callous. I didn't think Hermione should be either.
Sorry this chapter isn't quite as long.