Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of his wonderful little friends. The only thing that is mine is this sad little plot. Anything recognisable belongs to Ms. Rowling who I hope never finds out what we're doing to her innocent little creations (Hehehehe!! ?) (Wow I used the word 'little' in every sentence—creepy)
Chapter 3
The Offer of Truth
That was the way Albus found them, both doubled up in his/her respective chair laughing heartily 'with' the other. Albus put a definite emphasis on 'with' because it was so rare to find Severus laughing 'with' anyone, he was usually laughing 'at' them. Suddenly Albus had a premonition that made him smile knowingly at the other two people in the room.
Once he had shut the door behind him, both Severus and Hermione abruptly stopped their antics and gave their full attention to the elderly wizard making his way towards them both. Albus turned towards Hermione and scooped her up into a warm fatherly hug.
"It's so wonderful to see you back at Hogwarts my dear." He pulled away and took a look into her eyes. "How are you doing? Better I hope than a couple of months ago, I really was worried about you for a time there." The question had been worded and spoken in such a way that made Hermione want to cry into the old man's shoulder—so that he could tell her it would all be OK. Severus looked utterly confused—he had know idea to what the Headmaster was referring and was even more bewildered when he saw a single tear roll down Hermione's cheek as she tried to smile and find her voice.
"I'm fine, really," she stated completely unconvincingly. Albus, however, only nodded his head and let the subject drop as he made his way to the highback chair behind his desk."Well, I trust Severus has been keeping you thoroughly amused with his always bubbling personality?" Dumbledore could never help himself when it came to teasing Severus, the look on his face was always just too priceless. Hermione saw right through the Headmaster's little scheme and gave him a reproachful glare before breaking into a smile herself. Snape only continued to brood. Albus soon had finished amusing himself with Severus and continued with what he was going to say, "Hermione my dear, the reason that I requested your presence here at the school, is that I would like to offer you a teaching position. I figured that this would be a more fortuitous offer now as opposed to a year ago, seeing as you now have a newly acquired…how shall I say it, freedom?" Hermione smiled at his choice of words and the Headmaster gave her another knowing wink. He knew that this was all driving Snape absolutely crazy—to not be a part of a shared secret. "It is in the position of Arithmancy Professor, seeing as though Professor Vector has decided that she would like to retire to a tropical island where the main focus of her day will be working on her tan." Hermione was now in a blatant fit of giggles as she tried to picture the elderly old woman lying in a yellow striped lounge chair with a tropical drink melting in her hand—it was absolutely hilarious. Severus was thinking along similar lines, but would have rather had a classroom full of Longbottoms than allow the joint efforts of Hermione and Albus to break him. Dumbledore was, for once, the voice of reason.
"Well Miss Granger, what do you say? Do you think you are up to the task of teaching Arithmancy? I know that you received you degree from Eximius College at Oxford in Arithmancy and Potions, so I have no reason to doubt that there is anyone more qualified." She smiled widely at the elderly wizard before nodding in affirmation and agreeing to start right after winter holiday.
Within five minutes Hermione and Severus once again found themselves walking down another corridor, this time towards the Teacher's Apartments. Severus began sneaking glances at the girl next to him again as a question he was dying to ask weighed heavily on his mind. Just ask her for Merlin's sake, she's practically a colleague now.
"Miss Grang-"
"Please," she cut in, "If we are going to be working together, do you think we could cut the 'Miss Grangering' crap. It makes me feel like I'm eleven years old." It was more of a command than a request, but Severus nodded curtly anyway before continuing.
"Hermione, did you really receive a degree in both Arithmancy and Potions?" Hermione stopped and turned towards the overbearing man before her.
"Did you think that the Headmaster was lying Severus?" she questioned silkily, letting his name slide off her tongue in such a way as to make his spine quiver ever so slightly. "You know, just because you seem to try your hardest to keep any student from taking a liking to Potions, doesn't mean you always succeed."
Severus tried his best to regain some composure, but it was hard. He had known that she had been good in Potions—she always knew her ingredients and technique inside and out—but the thought that she actually enjoyed it had strictly never crossed his mind, especially to the point of her pursuing a degree at the most advanced wizarding college on the planet. Stopping to think about it, though, he supposed this assumption to be based on the fact that he had made it as miserable for her as he possibly could—a fact that he could only contribute to her driving him completely insane with her 'know-it-all' attitude.
"Easy Severus," she said mollifyingly, interrupting his reverie, "Don't take it to heart, I'm sure you succeeded with all your other students—instilling in them a hatred for potions only rivaled by their hatred for you." She gasped and brought her hand to her mouth as soon as the last comment escaped her lips.
Severus turned an icy stare on her. "I…I'm so sorry Severus, I shouldn't have said that. It's just…well, I suppose I'm a little racked, what with the job offer, and having to move…and those damn Chudley Canons losing so badly this year." The last part had its desired affect as Hermione distinctly saw a smile creep onto his thin lips and then…bestill her heart…he laughed again. Twice in one day! Will wonders never cease?
They continued their walk in silence until finally stopping at a large stone wall, tastefully hung with a portrait of William Shakespeare. Hermione stared curiously at it before turning her questioning gaze on Severus who, although he wasn't looking at her, said in a rather annoyed/amused manner,
"Yes, Hermione, what is it?" "Well it's just that, I know that Professor Dumbledore is fond of Muggles and all, but I wasn't aware that he read their authors."
"Mis…Hermione, Will Shakespeare is about as much a Muggle as I am," he pronounced tersely before giving the painting the password—Magister—and smiling to himself at the utterly dumbfounded look that blanketed her features. Leading the way down, Hermione had no choice except to follow him.
She was almost glad for his silent disposition as they walked down the dark corridor—it gave her a chance to observe the unfamiliar surroundings. They were, she surmised, in the wing that housed the teachers' apartments. It was fairly dark considering that large gothic windows flanked the rest of the castle's hallways—this corridor was lit, even during midday, by glowing torches on the walls. Hermione strained her eyes to examine each of the doors as they passed by them—simply by looking at them you could tell what teacher lived where. A door covered all in ivy must have been Professor Sprout's while another decorated with various shimmering gold sparkles and wands must have been Professor Flitwick's. As they kept walking though Hermione had yet to see any door that screamed Snape, until, that is, they reached the very end. There were only two doors left before the hallway ran straight into a large wall with an empty gold frame. The door on the left was covered completely in black paint. Typical, she thought as she looked from the man in black to the door in black. Her attention to his door was suddenly diverted when she realised that the other door opposite his must be…hers. Snape saw the look on her face and read it famously.
"Well, I seriously doubt that I brought you down here to have a spot of afternoon tea with me!" he said blandly before leading her over to her own blank door. "All the teacher's do their own doors. You have to put something up—Albus's idea." Damn him! He was becoming almost as good as the Headmaster at that whole mind reading thing. It seemed like every question she thought, he answered before she could get it to her lips. She would get back at him for being so damn omniscient, she would paint her door in bright shining pink frills with little red hearts all over the place—no, she wouldn't do that, that would more likely make her vomit before him.
The inside of her apartment was huge, far larger than her flat in London. The sitting room was simply astounding. It was two storied with an entirely open ceiling and all the walls were covered by bookshelves filled to capacity with thousands of books. The little circular wrought iron stairway in the back led to the second story, which was simply another level of books. She had never seen anything more beautiful.
Severus watched the young woman before him with mild curiosity. She was really quite amazing. Just when he thought he had her categorized permanently as 'The Annoying Gryffindor Know-It-All', she had to turn around and do something completely breathtaking, like crying at the site of all these books. And she was—she really was staring in silent awe as tears spilled down her cheeks. When she turned around to look at him, though, he could see that it wasn't just a couple of dusty old tomes causing her reaction. There was something else. She didn't really show it, but he could see it as clearly as glass when he looked into her eyes. There was so much pain in her there; she wasn't the girl he had taught anymore—he doubted that she ever really was.
"Gods, I'm sorry," she apologised once she turned around to face him. "I must appear to be an emotional mess with all the crying I've done today, but it's been a long time since I've been able to enjoy being…well, me. I've really lost who I was these last seven years and its very overwhelming to be me again," she confided in him. Although Severus didn't really know that he had been taken into her confidence, he could feel that whatever she was talking about was only a very minuscule piece to a larger problem. How could she have lost herself? She always seemed so grounded in who she was, what made her change that?
"The better question," a voice in his head spoke, "would be 'who' made her change that?"
Severus simply dismissed the voice before, turning once again to her and, after mustering up all the resolve he had, spoke, "That's all right Hermione, I know all to well what it is like to lose oneself over a course of time, it's just…well," the usually articulate man stumbled. Come on man, just say it! "You always seemed to be an extremely grounded young woman, full of the truth—never letting anyone change you, not even the wonder boys Weasley and Potter."
Her flinch at the name 'Potter' would have been practically imperceptible to anyone—anyone, that is, except Snape. He saw it and became more confused than ever—So Potter has something to do with this…maybe Weasley too. He had always known that their 'perfect' friendship would be too good to last; but, at the expense of the woman before him, he was, for the first time, sorry to have judged so astutely.
"Yes, well," she spoke in harsh, biting tones, "like you said, it can be very easy to loose oneself over the course of time—you would know all about that wouldn't you…everything except the truth part that is." She was blatantly referring to his time as a Death Eater, and judging from the hurt inflection of her voice, was not likely to be sorry to have said this. Severus only a bit to his full stature and focused a hard stone-like stare that would have made even 'Wonderful Potter' himself cower like a three-year-old before him.
"The truth, Miss Granger," he noted with extra stress and precarious silk, "is that weakness is to be found in all creatures, and while mine persisted for only three years, yours seems to have lasted far longer. Foolishly blinded by the beauty of being 'Potter's Girl'?" he sneered cruelly. That had done it. Her face had blanched as white as Peeves and she was now visibly shaking with what might have been rage, sadness, hurt, or a combination of the three. Severus could have absolutely hexed himself for saying that, and for the fact that he kept on going. "Did the 'Boy Who Lived' live up to all your expectations. Was he worth throwing away your very being. Was he…"
He had been cut short, not by a slap across the face or a silencing hex, but something far worse. She looked up into his eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks—it wasn't like he hadn't seen her cry before, she just had only a minute ago, but to know that he was the cause of it. Not just by yelling at her in class, or calling her a 'know-it-all', but by being cruel, vindictively, heartlessly cruel. Her eyes held nothing but sadness and loathing—all in all, he would have preferred some sort of physical pain to having to look into her eyes and see that. It was something that he wouldn't forget for a long time—it would haunt his dreams, few though they were. He began to speak, but she held up her hand shakily in protest.
"Leave," she whispered dangerously, "Just leave." He gave her one last quick glance before sweeping out of the room, black robes billowing eerily behind him.