Chapter 6
The Welcome Feast lasted far too long in Hermione's opinion, she thought as she pushed her chair back from the table and stood, stretching her arms over head to relieve the tension that had built up during the meal. She turned in a circle, looking for the man who had caused all of the tension to build up in the first place. He was nowhere to be found.
"Slippery eel," Hermione whispered, narrowing her eyes menacingly. She was going to let him have it for making fun of her at the beginning of the feast.
"You look capable of murder, Hermione," Remus mused, coming up to her and smiling down into her glaring face. "Need I ask who was the cause of your rage?" He twinkled down at her, mischief pouring out of his very face.
Hermione glared at him for a moment before a smile finally cracked through the mask of anger, a chuckle escaping her throat.
"Oh, Remus," Hermione began, reaching up and touching his cheek with the back of her hand. "Remind me to never keep a secret from you."
He took the hand that was resting on his cheek and pulled it around in front of his lips.
"You couldn't if you tried, my dear," he said, planting a small kiss on her knuckles.
They laughed together companionably, neither of them noticing the pair of dark, angry eyes watching them from the other side of the room.
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Snape tore through the halls to the dungeons, cloak billowing behind him, glaring daggers at any student who dared meet his eyes. He veritably flew up the stairs to his quarters, pulled his wand out and literally blasted his door open.
"Dammit!" he bellowed, pulling his wand back out. "Reparo!" The door pulled itself back together and rearranged itself on the hinges, slamming firmly behind him.
'What was I thinking?' he asked himself over and over again. Of course Remus had only been playing with him when he told him that he and Hermione would be great together! Why did he allow himself that fleeting instant of happiness at the other man's words? He knew better than that. No woman would ever, in her right mind, want to be with him. He could see it on her face, when she touched Remus's cheek, that she loved him. Loved Remus in a way she would never love him.
He shrugged out of his robes, then pulled open a cupboard nearly hidden in the wall. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a glass, then sat down on his sofa, all ready for a night of pure drunkenness.
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"Remus, did you see where Severus went?" Hermione asked, pulling her hand away from him. "I have a bone to pick with him."
"Ah, I'd hate to be in his shoes," Remus said, laughing merrily. "I believe he went straight to his rooms."
"Really," she muttered, glaring. "Good night Remus."
"Good night, Hermione," he said, watching her turn on her heel and stride purposefully toward the doors out of the Great Hall. "I feel sorry for that man."
He shook his head, then turned and made his way out a side door to his rooms.
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"Severus?" Hermione called, rapping lightly on the door to his chambers. "Severus, can I come in?"
She pressed her ear to the door and listened for some sign that he was there. She heard something heavy thunk onto the floor, a tinkling of glass, then footsteps coming toward the door. She stepped back and straightened her robes, suddenly a little nervous. The door swung open. He stood with one arm propped up on the doorframe, hair hanging loose of the ponytail, shirt untucked and unbuttoned about halfway down. Something wasn't right.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, taking a step closer to him. He chuckled lightly.
"Why do you care?" he asked, turning around and sauntering back into his rooms. He flopped gracelessly down on the couch and reached over to the end table for the glass that was sitting on it. He picked it up and took a healthy swig before turning to her. "Are you still here?"
Hermione strode through the door and slammed it behind her, earning a very noticeable jump on behalf of Snape.
"You're drunk," she declared, glaring at him with her hands on her hips.
"Ten points to Gryffindor!" he exclaimed, words slurred slightly. "Whenever did you become so observant, Miss Granger?"
"May I ask what has gotten into you?" she asked, coming to stand in front of him.
"Nothing that you would bother noticing," he muttered, taking another swig from his glass. "Why are you here, anyway? Don't you have some cuddling to do with your dear, sweet, Remus?"
"What?!" she exclaimed, eyebrows shooting up. "Whatever makes you think that?" She sat down on the floor in front of him and looked up into his face, each angle bathed in shadows from the crackling fire.
"I saw that sweet little scene in the Great Hall," he said, turning to fill his glass again.
"Accio glass!" Hermione called. The glass went flying out of Snape's hand and into Hermione's. She smirked triumphantly at him. "You were saying?"
He narrowed his eyes at her, then leaned back into the cushions.
"That darling little scene in the Great Hall, Miss Granger," he repeated, glaring maliciously down at her. "I'm surprised you're not in his rooms right now, shagging like hormonal teenagers."
Hermione stared at him, mouth hanging open slightly. He grinned triumphantly at her, thinking he had hit her where it would hurt most. Instead—
"You thought...Remus and I..."she sputtered, face reddening. She looked up at him for a moment longer, then burst out laughing. She threw her head back, tears leaking down her face. "Oh God, Severus!"
He simply looked at her, face a mask of confusion.
"Something amusing?" he asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest and frowning down at her. She finally composed herself, then wiped her cheeks with the heels of her hands.
"Oh, Severus," she began, still chuckling. "I could never shag Remus, as you so poetically put it. He's too much like family for me to..." she stopped and shook her head in disgust. "That is just too gross, Severus."
"Oh," he said, at a total loss for words, which never happened to him. He could feel his cheeks burning. "Accio glass!" The tumbler in Hermione's hand came flying back at him and he caught it with one hand, never mind that he was drunker than a sailor. He took a long drink, then looked away from her. "I trust you came here for a reason?"
"Oh yes," Hermione said, eyes narrowing dangerously. "There was that little matter of you making fun of me at the Welcome Feast tonight." She stood up and glared down at him, hands planted firmly on her hips. "Care to explain?"
"What is there to explain?" he asked, smirking up at her, eyes sparkling in the firelight. "Albus simply provided the perfect opportunity, that's all. You didn't expect me to pass it up, now did you?"
She sighed, then plopped down beside him on the couch.
"What else could I expect from you?" she asked, reaching over to pry the glass from his long fingers. She threw her head back and swallowed what was left in one drink. "Not bad," she commented, moving to hand the glass back to him. Her eyes locked onto the slightest glimpse of black peeking out from under his sleeve. The Dark Mark. It was coming back. She shook her head and handed the glass to him.
He was staring at her with wide eyes.
"What?" she asked, laughing lightly.
"Have you always been a whiskey drinker, Miss Granger?" he asked, taking the glass and filling it to the brim again.
"Dammit, Severus, I thought we had already been through this!" she exclaimed, turning to him. "Call me Hermione! You do know how to say Hermione, don't you?"
"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione," he taunted childishly.
She grabbed the glass out of his hand and glared at him.
"Oh, very cute," she said, taking a long drink of the amber liquid. "I thought you were more mature than your students."
"I'm drunk, Hermione," he said, yanking the glass back from her and taking a drink. "I can be as childish as I want to." He threw back the rest of the drink, then set the glass on the table with an audible clunk.
"It's probably not a good idea for you to get drunk before the first day of classes," Hermione pointed out, settling right back into the disapproving prefect mode. "You don't want to go to class with a hangover."
"Do you honestly think I don't keep a supply of hangover relief potion?" he asked, shaking his head. "You do remember what class I teach, don't you?"
"Oh, shut up!" Hermione exclaimed, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I'm the doctor here, not you! I'm supposed to scold you for things like this."
"Fine, fine," he muttered, running his fingers through his hair. "You're the doctor, I'm the mindless patient." He looked over at her from hooded lids, a small smirk playing at his mouth, then leaned toward her slightly. "So what do you recommend, Dr. Granger?" His voice had dropped noticeably, the silk turned on full power. She shivered pleasantly as he spoke, then turned her head to find herself staring into the deep recesses of his glittering black eyes.
"You need to get some sleep," Hermione said, shaking her head to clear her foggy brain. She jumped up from the couch and turned her back to him, head hanging slightly. "I should be going."
He stood and put a hand on her shoulder, turning her so that she was forced to look at him directly.
'God he's tall,' Hermione thought, turning her face up to meet his eyes.
"Are you nervous about your first day?" he asked, the hand on her shoulder lightly stroking the thin fabric of her robe.
She could only nod, his nearness affecting her too much to speak.
"You'll do fine," he said, bringing a hand up to stroke her cheek.
She shivered, her eyes closing involuntarily. She pulled back and cleared her throat, willing herself not to become putty in his hands, simply from that light of a touch.
"Thank you, Severus," she said, taking a few steps back from him. A small smirk formed on his lips. "You should take that potion now, so that, um, you'll feel okay tomorrow." She lifted a hand and waved lamely. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Hermione," he whispered, watching her turn and shakily open the door, and then step outside.
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Hermione closed the door behind her then leaned up against it, chest rising and falling rapidly as she panted for breath. What had just happened? She touched a hand to her cheek, skin still tingling where he had touched her. Just that light touch nearly made her lose her composure entirely; until she reminded herself that he was drunk. He probably didn't mean any of it. She felt a slight coldness settle in her heart as she imagined how he would feel about her tomorrow when he wasn't drunk. He would loathe what he had done and push her away as easily as the cold was pushed away by a warm fire. But she was sure that she saw something in his eyes. Some hint of his desire for her.
She pushed herself away from the door, wrapped her arms protectively around her body, then strode resolutely down the stairs to her quarters. He would never love her. Not the way she loved him.
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"Miss Granger!" Dumbledore called, tapping lightly on the door to the hospital wing.
She looked up from the tiny blond girl she had been treating and called for him to enter.
"Ah, I see Miss Wilson is doing much better," he declared, twinkling kindly down at the girl lying in the hospital bed. She smiled timidly up at him. "That was a spectacular catch this morning, Jennifer." He looked over at Hermione. "I think Miss Wilson will one day catch Harry Potter's record, Hermione."
"Really?" Hermione asked, smiling down at the girl. "Is this true, Jennifer?"
"I don't know about that," she said, blushing to the roots of her short, bouncy hair.
"Oh no, it's true," Dumbledore said, nodding his head. "She is a credit to Gryffindor House. I'm sure the Quidditch Cup will have their name on it, with Miss Wilson's help, of course."
Hermione stifled back the chuckle threatening to bubble forth as she watched the girl's face change from a light pink to deep crimson in an instant.
"Albus, you're embarrassing the poor girl," Hermione scolded, winking down at her. "Jennifer, I want you to stay here overnight so that I can keep an eye on that leg."
"Oh, do I have to, Miss Granger?" she asked, her brow furrowing in disappointment.
"I'm afraid so, Jennifer," Hermione said, patting the girl's hand reassuringly. "Your friends can come visit, though, for a little while."
"Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed, her blue eyes lighting up at Hermione's words. "Can I send for them now?"
"Of course, dear," Hermione said, summoning the jar of floo powder. She threw a pinch into the fireplace. "Minerva?"
"Yes, Hermione," she answered, her head bobbing in the flames.
"Could you please send Victoria Robins and Alaina Aberforth down to the hospital wing?"
"Of course," Minerva answered, smiling over Hermione's shoulder. "Spectacular catch today, Miss Wilson!"
"Thank you, Professor," Jennifer said, blushing once again.
"I will send them right down," she said, her head disappearing from the flames.
"There you go, now, Jennifer," Hermione said, tucking the blankets in around the girl's tiny frame. She turned back to Dumbledore. "Did you need me for something, Albus?"
"Yes," he replied, following her into her brightly-lit office. He took a seat in one of the overstuffed armchairs she had positioned in front of her desk and folded his hands in his lap. "I don't know if you have noticed, but Severus' mark is coming back."
Hermione looked up from the paperwork she was filling out and frowned.
"Yes," she confirmed, sighing heavily. "I saw it the night of the Welcome Feast." She put the quill down on the desk and leaned her head into her hands, elbows resting on the edge of the desk. "What does this mean, Albus?"
"He will be summoned any day now," Dumbledore said, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "In fact, I'm surprised Voldemort has waited even a week." He looked back up at her and narrowed his eyes. "I wanted to warn you of what you will see when he comes back from the Summoning."
Hermione hastily pulled out a piece of parchment and readied her quill.
"Go on," she whispered.
"Voldemort always likes to make an example of his servants, especially Severus," he began, frowning thoughtfully. "I'm afraid he may suspect something." He stared off into space for a moment before shaking his head and turning back to Hermione. "You can expect Severus to have been subjected to the Cruciatus. You know the after-effects, correct?"
"Severe shaking, pain when anything touches the skin, seizures, migraines," Hermione rattled off automatically.
"Yes," he said, nodding his head slowly. "You can also expect trauma from physical beatings. Cuts and bruises, sometimes even broken bones."
Hermione drew in a shaky breath and bent over the parchment, taking notes on what Dumbledore was saying, along with possible cures and relief for Severus when the time came. She stopped writing and slammed the quill down on the table.
"Why?" she whispered severely, staring accusingly across the desk. "Why must he do this? Why can't somebody else do it? He doesn't deserve this pain!" Her voice steadily increased until she was yelling straight into Dumbledore's face. "How can you sit there and let this happen to him!"
He smiled kindly at her and reached over to pat her hand.
"Hermione, there is nothing I would rather do than go in Severus' place," he whispered. "I hate sending him to these gatherings but there is no one else who can go and not be caught." He leaned back in the chair and frowned. "I love him like a son, Hermione. I know he doesn't deserve that pain, but the best I can do is be there for him and try to relieve his pain. There is nothing I would rather do than sit back and watch Severus live his life without having to deal with all of this." He leaned back toward her and took both of her hands in his. "Please try to understand, Hermione. The best you and I can do is be there for him when he needs us. And he does need you, Hermione."
She snapped her eyes up to meet his, totally oblivious to the tears leaking down her face.
"He does?" she whispered, her voice shaking.
"Yes, he does," he replied, reaching up to wipe a tear from her cheek. "He is just afraid to let you know that he needs anyone." He tipped her chin up so that she would meet his eyes. "We need you to be there for him, Hermione." He stood up and turned to the door, then turned back. "I know you can do it."
"Thank you, Albus," she said, forcing a smile to her face. And then, on impulse, she stood, rushed over to him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He patted her back lightly, smiling into her hair.
"Good girl," he muttered, pulling back to smile down at her. "I'll leave you to your patients now."
She watched him breeze out the door, nodding politely to the three girls huddled on one of the beds as he walked by. She wiped her face dry, then turned back to her desk. The parchment she had been using was gone. She rushed over and went through everything on the desk, but still couldn't find it. She sat down in the chair and frowned. What could have happened to it?
Albus Dumbledore strode slowly down the hall, glancing around him at the portraits on the wall. A couple of them waved merrily as he passed. He nodded to each in turn, then descended the steps to the Great Hall, stopping only to point his wand at a piece of parchment crumpled in his hand and reduce it to ash in a moment. He turned and looked back up the stairs to the closed door of the hospital wing. Hermione didn't know what she was capable of. She didn't need those notes to help Severus any more than Minerva needed a book to perform transfiguration. She would realize soon enough that when someone you love is in trouble, the correct answers will come to you without thinking.
He shook his head and sighed heavily. Severus and Hermione needed each other so much; they just hadn't realized it yet. He hoped, for their own sakes that they would figure it out soon. They just might save each other.