Spell Check Rocks!
Author's Note: I just thought all my readers should know that I love you all! Especially the reviewers! Especially Paisley Parker (I bow down before your review. It made me feel all tingly inside) and Spike-Lover get props for being so dang nice (Even though I must say I preferred Angel. You should e-mail me so we can talk Buffy sometime!). Anywho, I hope you all appreciate that I fixed all previous chapters of errors, and adjusted the format to be consistent per chapter. Also, thanks to my beta Alexis! As promised, my poetry is in this chapter, yippee! I really enjoyed the interest in Hermione's Source.
Sight.
Shards of violent light,
Weaving with color.
Never another,
Gift such as this.
What I desperately miss.
You,
Who grew upon my frigid heart.
And when your lips part,
You keep me sane,
With warm breath upon my frosted pane.
The next morning when Snape was not in the Great Hall Dumbledore and McGonagall smiled brightly at each other, as the other teachers argued amongst themselves as to why he was not there. Students laughed happily at the prospect of another Snape-free day as Dumbledore announced that Runes would once again be canceled for the day. Innocent youth crowded the hallways to go to their first classes of the day, some huffing and puffing up stairs muttering about blasted Divination, some skipping along to Hagrid's hut and chatting happily about kneazles, and still some playfully giggling and punching their friend as they shuffled towards their Potions class. As the Potion's students entered their drafty classroom they were greeted by the sight of newly added books, cauldrons, and shelved, deadly looking ingredients.
Moose Bean exclaimed that Professor Simmerly must have gone on a shopping spree.
Diane Sparks concluded that it must have been in Knockturn Alley, judging by the poisonous appearance of the new jarred substances.
Ralph Pittlebish was about to add his own two cents until he looked towards the entryway to the classroom and promptly fell out of his chair.
Professor Snape was back, though he didn't look too happy to be there. Striding down the aisle until he stood before the prone Ralph, he spoke, his voice dripping with silky authority.
"Mr. Pittlebish, if you would gladly get off of the floor we could start with today's lesson. Five points from Gryffindor."
Ralph scrambled into his chair with a mumbled "yes sir", and sat stiffly, wondering a question he couldn't wonder aloud. "How had Snape known it was him?"
Other students seemed to be wondering along the same lines, some whispering aloud to their friends, and one unlucky girl passing a note on a scrap of parchment. Quickly reaching out a long-fingered hand, Snape plucked the note deftly from between the two hands as they met in the aisle.
"Ah, a note. Let's see what it says shall we?"
Students cowered in their seats as Snape read the note aloud.
"How did Snape… Professor Snape, …know Ralph fell out of his chair? Well, well, Miss Carver, what a perfectly valid question." Snape snickered before removing his dark glasses revealing his new eyes to a roomful of slack-jawed Gryffindors and Slytherins. As his adjusted his eyes to the light, he curled his face into his trademark glare and continued, "Though it is one that should have waited for the end of class. Five points from Gryffindor."
He noticed happily that every person in the room had backed away substantially in their chairs as a result of his gaze. Mentally reminding himself to try it again before the end of class he launched into his first Potions lesson for three years.
"Hermione dear! Wake up!"
Hermione groggily opened her eyes and was greeted by a concerned looking McGonagall leaning over her. Quickly sitting up, Hermione threw off her sheets and leapt to her feet.
Pulling on her socks Hermione spoke worriedly.
"Oh gosh, is it Professor Snape. What has happened? We need to get there as soon as possible!"
Placing her hand on Hermione's shoulder McGonagall gently shushed her.
"No, no Hermione! Professor Snape is fine. In fact, unless I am much mistaken, he is right now happily terrorizing his first Potions class of the day. Sit down! It can do you no good to be running around the day after your Source has been extracted."
Remembering at once how exhausted she was, Hermione followed McGonagall's instructions and sat down on the bed with a small groan. Her eyelids still felt extremely heavy. McGonagall patted her back half-heartedly, while looking anxiously around the room. Standing up suddenly, McGonagall puttered around the room, straightening it up as much as she could. It wasn't exactly as if Hermione was messy, but it was obvious that her thoughts lately hadn't been on keeping her rooms tidy. Hermione was drowsy just watching all of McGonagall's movement, and grew slightly dizzy while watching her shake and fold discarded robes. She rested her head in her hands, unable to watch anymore.
"I decided that you had slept enough for one night. The sooner you can come to Professor Dumbledore's office with me, the better. We have some important charms to place on you. You must have extra protection, now that your Source has been removed." At this McGonagall paused and clucked disapprovingly once again, "You do know what repercussions your actions will have, do you not Miss Granger?"
Hermione sighed. She really did not feel like dealing with McGonagall at the moment. All she wanted was blessed sleep. She needn't have worried though, because McGonagall barged ahead without waiting for a response.
"You are obviously weakened already. Without your Source, performing magic weakens you more easily. Even worse, daily life can become tiresome without proper rest. Your heart is also more fragile. Luckily you are a Gryffindor, your heart is strong. Or it was… only time will tell. Come here."
Grabbing Hermione by the arm and pulling her firmly into a standing position, McGonagall muttered a spell, and with a swooshing noise, Hermione was wearing a clean pair of robes and her entire body felt freshly scrubbed. Hermione managed to blurt out a groggy thank you and, leaning against McGonagall, made her way to Dumbledore's office.
Snape sat in front of his fireplace, reading. The swirl of the neatly written words, and the curled corners of the pages yellowed with age, once a novelty taken for granted and overlooked, was now savored. Drinking each word slowly in, Snape sat in silence, absorbed in the poetry of every phrase.
Sighing deeply after re-reading the last page, Snape placed the book neatly back into his bookcase. Returning to his chair in front of the hearth, he stared at the fire and sipped his goblet of brandy. Smiling he thought of the teachers faces when he had arrived to lunch without notice, with a new pair of eyes. Professor Sprout practically fainted and Flitwick had promptly burst into noisy tears He was now, once again, teaching potions and his life felt right again. Back in order as if used to be. Well, almost… His thoughts drifted to The Kiss as the warmth of the fire gently tickled his face. The feeling of her tired hands imprinted itself on his arms; and her lips on his, could still be felt. A little over a month had passed since the night he had regained his sight, and neither of them had said anything to each other about that night, and what they had shared. The next morning, Snape's heart had skipped a beat when he couldn't find her. He feared that she had realized what she had done with him, and then ran; but in reality she had slept in that day.
Yet even though she didn't seem remorseful about kissing him, she didn't mention it then and hadn't since. Hermione had begun to assist McGonagall in her Transfiguration lessons and often met Snape in the Library or the garden to read together or have exciting and often argumentative conversations. Snape didn't feel uncomfortable around her in the slightest, and their friendship was still intact, but inside Snape had trouble dispelling his own feelings that what he felt for Hermione was more than friendship. But Snape was never one to force himself on a woman, and as always, the well-being and needs of people who meant a lot to him, like Dumbledore and more recently Hermione, came before his own feelings. Snape was used to it by now, "but" he thought to himself, while shattering his empty glass against the wall, "that hardly means it doesn't still hurt."
Hermione lifted the flowing hem of her dress robes to adjust her new strappy high heel shoes. Grimacing, she stood up wobbling and quickly fell back into her chair.
"Darn shoes! How am I supposed to walk in these anyway?"
Finally attaining an almost balanced stance, she made her way to the mirror and looked at her reflection as she put on a pair of pearl earrings. Her hair was up in a clean-cut, but still slightly messy, knot. Her clearly glossed lips and brown and tawny eye make-up suited her perfectly and complimented her white cotton dress robes. She never was one for glitter and pink. Noticing deep shadows under her eyes, she magicked them away. In her opinion, she didn't look half bad and apparently the mirror agreed. It whistled loudly and Hermione blushed and winked at it is she made her way to the door, grabbing her cloak on the way out.
As she entered the Great Hall she saw Dumbledore talking to a gloomy-looking Snape, who was wearing his usual black robes. Dumbledore smiled jovially and cupped Hermione's cheek with a soft wrinkled hand as she reached them.
"Ah, Miss Granger. You look absolutely stunning! I daresay you might outshine the bride!"
Hermione shrugged her shoulders shyly.
"I don't know about that…"
"Nonsense," Dumbledore cried, "do you not agree Severus?"
Snape looked up from his shoes and replied curtly.
"Yes. I agree."
Dumbledore looked over the top of his glasses sternly.
"Severus, just because you are nervous about going to Mr. Weasley's wedding, does not warrant rudeness."
Snape began to reply icily, but Hermione, sensing a tantrum, stepped in.
"I really don't mind Headmaster. Professor Snape is just not a wedding person. Too much white."
Both Hermione and Dumbledore chuckled at their little joke. Snape just scowled. Suddenly he cleared his throat loudly, interrupting Dumbledore mid giggle.
"I do lament having to end this little chat, but we really should be going. The ceremony is scheduled to begin in an hour."
Hermione agreed, and saying their good byes to Dumbledore, they made their way outside the Hogwarts gates. As they raised their wands to apparate Hermione stopped. Suddenly she didn't feel too up to apparating.
"Severus, may I just hold on to you as we go? I don't quite feel like apparating myself."
Snape looked at her strangely but agreed and within seconds they had arrived at a bustling Burrow. A quick scan of the yard revealed utter chaos. It seemed like sea of redheads were all running around in some way, shape, or form. Hermione spotted the twins who waved at her and headed over. Hermione giggled at their appearances. Both of them wore outfits that did not suit them at all. Hermione would bet a load of galleons that their wives had dressed each of them.
"Oiy Herm! You showed up just in time!"
"Most definitely. Mum is on a smashing rampage!"
"We must have scrubbed the house from top to bottom at least twice…"
"…a day this last week."
"In fact, we were just on our way to set up the tables for the reception. Care to join us?"
Both twins grinned charmingly but Hermione wasn't fooled. She wasn't about to be wrangled into Mrs. Weasley's cleaning spree. In fact, she resolved to keep away from the Weasley matriarch until the wedding was over.
"No thanks Fred, George. I really must be finding Ron. I'm pretty sure he is sweating bullets by now."
"Oh he's in Mum and Dad's room getting ready. Harry is already with him. You're quite right about him being nervous. He was so fidgety that when Mum tried a hair smoothing charm on him she nearly took his head off. Dad made her leave after that. All for the best of course, she was actually almost yelling at Ron."
George smirked obviously at the memory of Ron's head nearly being taken off while Fred, noticing Snape behind Hermione looking around, leaned in to talk to her conspiratorially.
"I noticed you came with Snape. I also noticed the eyes. I heard about them a few weeks ago. Well done Herm. Of course, I'm still wondering why you brought him to the wedding. Ron is 'this close'…" he pinched his fingers together, "to having an anxious aneurysm."
"He'll be fine, I'm keeping an eye on him. He's here on Dumbledore's orders, to represent Hogwarts. He's not that bad. He's just nervous, that's all."
Fred looked over her shoulder and snorted in disbelief. "Nervous or murderous?"
"That wasn't funny Fred."
Fred did a double take and gave Hermione an apologetic hug, followed by a gaping George, who had obviously just spotted Snape.
"Right-o then, better be off. If you want to see Ron he's in Mum and Dad's room. Best be off now, before the ceremony starts."
Hermione turned to Snape who was thoroughly examining his shoes.
"Severus!"
He didn't hear her, or if he did he pretended not to notice.
"Professor!"
With a jerk Snape's head snapped up.
"You'd think that now that you have eyes, you would look at something other than your feet." Snape frowned as she went on. "Find someone to talk to, all right? I'm going to see Ron and Harry. Unless you want to come of course?"
Snape raised both of his eyebrows as if this was a tantalizing suggestion but quickly answered in the negative and walked away. Hermione watched until Mr. Weasley, who seemed to be happily embracing everyone in sight, accosted him and dragged him away to a group of Ministry officials who all looked a bit wary by his presence but nevertheless shook his hand. Knowing Snape was in good presence, Hermione turned away and headed towards the house, her thoughts still on him.
Ever since the night he had regained his sight and they had kissed she had been plagued by a hidden sadness. The day afterwards they had been friendly with each other, but neither had mentioned what had happened. Hermione was nervous, nervous that he would be angry and turn her away, but he wasn't. Quite the contrary in fact, he was as friendly as he had ever been with her (and that was saying something) and she didn't feel uncomfortable around him in the slightest. Hermione had quite convinced herself that Snape had been caught in the emotions of that night, that he hadn't felt any loving feelings towards her but was merely trying to comfort her in her moment of hallucinate release. Unfortunately for Hermione, a flame was ignited that night, one that she had to put out every day. She worried too much for Snape to push herself on him, and if there was one thing she wasn't pushy about it was a thing of this nature. She knew it was for the best…
"But," she thought to herself, opening the door to face a beaming Harry and slightly green Ron, "it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."
Hermione turned her face to the dance floor where a slightly drunken Harry was dancing with a giggling Ginny, who giggled even more when Harry kissed her cheek. Both of the twins were waltzing with each other's wives and a pink-shirted Percy, who had toned himself down a bit (but not too much) since Voldemort's defeat, was slow dancing with his long-time girlfriend Penelope and nuzzling her hair. Earlier Percy had given a surprisingly touching best man speech, leading to Ron's actually crying, and the twins pulling all of the Weasley brothers including Harry into a large bear hug. Percy was so happy with how his speech had gone, that he had hardly gotten huffy at all when the twins had accidentally spilled the contents of the punch bowl on him, resulting in his pink shirt, which clashed horribly with his hair.
At the moment she was sitting next to a mushy Molly Weasley, who was still blowing her nose and occasionally wiping her eyes. She had long since talked herself out, presumably during her cleaning spree, and now she was content to watch Ron dance with his new bride, sniffling and looking with wet eyes at Mr. Weasley, who patted her back and held her hand. Hermione could feel love vibes all around her, but she just wasn't having as good a time as she hoped she would have today. Sure, the ceremony had been beautiful, and the reception was fun. The food was great and the dancing was fantastic, but Hermione's growing awareness of being alone overshadowed all of this. Seeing all the couples in each other's arms just made her want to go home and curl up with a huge block of chocolate, not to mention that her exhaustion was coming back to her in waves with the excitement of the party winding down. Hermione was having trouble keeping her eyes open. In fact, she decided, it was time to go home.
She forced her eyes to look around for Snape, when suddenly he was in front of her, taking her hand.
"Severus, I think it's time…"
Snape placed his finger to his lips, signaling her to be silent, and led her out onto the dance floor.
The feeling of his warm, strong hand on the small of her back was comforting, and even thrilling. She let herself be guided around on the dewy grass, the rocking movement lulling her, making her feel fuzzy, but still slightly dizzy.
"I wonder what everyone thinks of us dancing." she murmured.
"Probably too drunk to notice." Snape muttered disapprovingly.
Hermione didn't reply, just continued to sway with the music, barely on the edge of consciousness.
"Hermione," Snape began, his voice soft and silky, yet direct with purpose, "I'm not going to mince words. That night wasn't a mistake. It happened for a reason…"
By now Hermione was so weak, all she could do was hear Snape and her own thoughts screaming inside her head to get out. Yet the only words she could mange to say were "Severus, I need…" before she collapsed to the ground.
Snape bust inside the Hogwarts doors, and reached a panting McGonagall mid-hallway.
"You have her belongings?"
"Yes, everything I think she'd need I've packed."
"Clothes?"
"Yes!"
"Books?"
"Of course not! I was thinking of immediate needs."
"Minerva, do you know Miss Granger in the slightest? How long do you possibly think she could survive without a book? Who knows how long she will have to stay at St. Mungos!" Snape rushed down the hallway to Hermione's quarters muttering bitterly about saving time.
Entering Hermione's rooms Snape headed to Hermione's desk to find any books she might be reading at the moment. Plunging a stack of three books into the small portable trunk, he saw a small, worn notebook fall to the ground. He started to place it back onto the desk when he was struck with the thought that this notebook might be Hermione's diary. Pushing aside thoughts of prying into her personal business, and replacing them with thoughts of bringing what was possibly her diary to her so she could write in it during her hospital stay, he flipped open the book. Instead of seeing the expected dates and personal scrawling her saw numbers and complex formulas painstakingly written, scratched out, and rewritten again. He flipped the pages until her reached one with a list of what looked like potion's ingredients. At the top it was labeled "Severus' Recompense."
Snape smiled slightly as he read the list of ingredients. The mixture was extremely complex, and he couldn't help but feel a slight pride. As he reached the end of the list though, his smile disappeared suddenly, and was replaced with a frown. Quickly re-reading the list, he slammed the book shut and ran out of the door and back towards the Great Hall, where he met Dumbledore.
Grasping the books so tightly his fingers were white, Snape thrust the book in front of Dumbledore's face.
"I can't believe you let her take it! Now look what has happened!"
"Take what Severus?" Dumbledore enquired, but Snape was sure he already knew.
"Her Source, damn it!" Snape spat, and then turning quickly, ran towards the exit.
"Severus!" Dumbledore called out, "Think about what you are doing!" but by that time Snape was already gone.
He had been stewing inside of himself all night. Part of him had been with her as she had been on the dance floor, laughing with all her friends and talking with Harry and Ron and the rest of the Weasley crew. In truth, the evening hadn't been a disaster, and Snape was almost glad he had gone. Arthur Weasley's friends actually listened when he spoke, and took his opinions seriously. Ministry officials didn't look for him when he defeated the Dark Lord, but they definitely weren't going to ignore him when he was in their midst. When the ministry people left, and all that remained of the party was family, close friends, and Snape, all he had left to do was pick at his chicken bones and watch Hermione from a distance. The more he had watched her, the surer he was about what he wanted to do. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry about what had happened, that he would be sure to control himself. He had gone over to her, and stupidly ignored the fact that she protested.
His previous plans at closure had melted away when she was in his arms again. He had opened his mouth, and had realized he wasn't sorry. He had almost said everything, but then she had collapsed.
After Snape had successfully gotten the entire attendance's attention, Mr. Wealsey magicked Hermione to St. Mungos, accompanied by Harry, and Snape had the presence of mind to go to Hogwarts for Hermione's essential belongings. His worry at her condition was unparalleled, but as usual, he didn't acknowledge it, he just snarled at Dumbledore and Minerva.
Unfortunately for Hermione, what Snape was feeling now was far from compassion. After scaring the witch at the hospital desk into telling him Hermione's patient number, Snape ran down the hallway and burst into the stark white hospital room where Hermione was lying, sleeping on the bed. As he slammed the door, her eyes opened, slowly at first, and then flying open when she saw the look on Snape's face. By the time she was awake enough to talk, Snape had torn across the room and thrown Hermione's notebook into her lap.
"You stupid girl! Do you have any idea what you've done to yourself?"
"Severus, I!…" Hermione stuttered and tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. "Yes, I know."
"I don't think you do! How could you ever give me, give anyone, a part of your soul like that?" By now Snape was positively enraged, yelling loudly, his cheeks tinged pink with anger. "No one should have your Source but you! But right about now I'm wondering if your intelligence is worthy of it, doing something so idiotic as you've done!"
Hermione closed her eyes and covered her ears with her hands, obviously in pain. Snape stood up and grabbed her shoulders, shaking Hermione so that her long hair flew everywhere.
"Listen to what I'm saying!"
With a final hard shake Hermione's frame slumped down from the sitting position to once again lay on the soft hospital mattress. Both her and Snape were silent, but for Snape's deep, panting breaths. With a final glance at Hermione's prone frame Snape walked out of the room.
Hermione heard the door slam and felt an alien silence descend on her room. She could hear her heart, and the once staccato beat inside her chest slowed to normal, and kept slowing. In fascination she listened to her own heart's labored pumps, as it began to stop. The call button next to her bed was left untouched. This didn't hurt anymore, and she didn't care. All she knew, was that there was nothing left to feel. Her heart finally stopped and she sat in silence for a few seconds, not breathing, just listening to death, when she heard the click of the door.
Her skin felt like it was made of sand, and she went limp as strong, wiry, arms gathered her into a sitting position. As she opened her eyes she saw Snape, and with a jolt of cold blood, her heart began to beat as if it had never stopped. She raised her hand to touch his heated neck, and then to his cheek, where his hand met her own.
Snape squeezed Hermione's hand with a constant pressure, but when he spoke his words were spoken slower than usual, as if it was taking a great effort.
"No one has ever given me something like this."
Hermione didn't know what to say.