Chapter 3: In which Severus receives no word of Hermione Granger
Severus was very tempted, very tempted indeed. He looked up at the fire close to him, burning bright and strong. His fingers twitched, eager to throw the whole pile of the students' assignments into the fireplace. Perhaps he should. That would teach the dunderheads to treat Potions seriously.
He sneered and pushed their papers away to the other edge of his table. Halfway through marking, he had gone from thinking them laughable, horrified, enraged, to scratching a vicious cross over most of the assignments monotonously. He felt a headache storming within.
Why were there always more idiots than people who at least strove for the best? Why could it not be the other way around? He did not even want to bother counting the few who were exceptionally intelligent.
The past week was terrible. A record high in accidents in the Potions classroom (he knew it was an ominous idea to have Weaseley triplets and Longbottom twins in one room), a flourish of loud activity as Black visited the staff (the man was incorrigible ever since his name was cleared), the House-Elves barging into his stores again (not the private ones obviously, but he must renew the wards), and plenty more. There was no relief, unless one counted Black slipping off his broom while boasting his rusty skills. It was not enough to balance out the torture he had undergone. And there was no letter from the Granger girl to lift the mood up.
Only after missing her letters for a week did he realise how precious they had become. They were a window to the outside world. More importantly, they were a testament to how life had changed for the better after Voldemort was vanquished. They showed him that what he had done, whilst insufficient in redeeming himself, was worth it. All the swirling darkness he had willingly, though fearfully, stepped into had paid off. There were future generations that need not live as their forefathers did, shrouded in uncertainty and chaos.
He wondered why she had stopped writing. He did not dare ask Minerva or anyone else whether it was the same case for them. He did not wish to show that it bothered him to such an extent. He did not wish to expose the fact that he was vulnerable to another's attitude toward him.
He presumed the others still got their regular mail from her. Perhaps she had finally tired of him. Perhaps she had finally accustomed herself to the knowledge that no one could move the ex-Death-Eater.
Only, she had. But she would never know.
Now his world was filled with empty memories.
He reminisced the period he had worked with her, trying to recollect what kind of character she was. There was an astonishing revelation of how compatible they were in their methods. Unlike her every attempt in getting his attention in class, she was neither demanding nor domineering, trusting him unconditionally to do what was rational and right. He did not appreciate it at that time.
She also took pains to understand his unreasonable mood-swings and went along with him, always trying not to disturb him. She was not dumb. She took up the initiative when crucial, pointing out the correct direction when he was too perturbed. Towards the end of her school-term, he found her presence not just a necessary tool, but an enjoyable companionship as well. Somehow, she was sensitive to his emotions despite his efforts to hide them. It did not worry him. He was at ease with her. Sometimes, they talked together. He did not think her crystal clear laughter and sharp wit had affected him then.
She had grown to be an exceptional woman. Taking out a yearbook, he flipped the pages until he came to her photograph, captured when she was in her seventh year.
That bushy mop of hair tugged the corners of his mouth up. He always poked fun at it in front of her. In retaliation, she had snapped about the 'sleekness' of his own. Underhanded, that one. She would make a fine Slytherin, and he did not mean it in the Malfoy sort.
Severus looked on pensively. Her eyes were amber, he had not noticed that before. He reckoned they were her best features, sparkling with intelligence and forthrightness. They were truly the windows to her mind and soul. The girl in the picture waved at him, appearing to be genuinely pleased to see him. Her mouth widened into a sweet smile, showing her teeth. Severus snorted in amusement. He remembered the incident in her fourth year. He did not regret mocking her. It tickled him.
The girl huffed good-naturedly and tilted her head in exasperation. She wagged a finger at him, as if to chide him.
Severus snapped the book shut and moped over his loss. He was threatening to sink into depression, all due to a slip of girl. At his age too! He scoffed. He could deal with this. It was far from a crisis.
A stray thought pounded insistently in his addled brain. Supposing he wrote to her, thanking her for her letters? And pray, he countered ruthlessly, what difference would it make? He refused to delve into sentimental nonsense in order to appease a student he had not seen for years. Albus would call it stubborn pride, but he knew it was common sense. The girl had given up on him. Why drag her in again?
Grimly satisfied with his decision, Severus went on to mark the rest of the homework.
After he finished, he proceeded to have dinner in the Hall. He had an overwhelming need of noise. It distracted him. However, when he entered the Hall, the first suspicion he had was that everyone had been Petrified. All the students were assembled and the food spread as abundantly and sumptuously as usual, yet not one stirred visibly. His eyes reached the far end of the Hall in alarm. His colleagues were motionless. Many were pale in face. Minerva's was pinched as it was wont to do when she heard grave news. Flitwick was hiccuping amidst tears, and Albus. he had not seen the Headmaster this severe for a long while.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he walked to the staff table, stealing glances at the students. He noted that several were devastated and their friends failed to comfort them.
What in all that the Four Founders held sacred was going on? He seemed to be the only one not privy to the earth-shattering news.
He conveyed his exact sentiments to Albus. Albus raised his weary eyes and met the younger pair of inquisitive dark eyes.
'The Ministry's reverted into their habit of hiding their troubles from us once more,' Albus informed him cryptically.
'The children whose parents worked in the Charms Department have not received mail from them and we haven't received any from Miss Granger. I checked with the Ministry but they persisted in keeping mute initially.'
Severus' spirits started sinking lower into the abyss.
'Even Arthur didn't know what had happened. Two hours ago, a fast news bulletin from the Daily Prophet revealed that one of its reporters uncovered the secret. The Charms Department had been wiped out last week.'
'Wiped out?' Severus suppressed the urge of imagining what it meant.
'The whole place was in a mess. All the researchers were missing, together with several materials.'
'Materials?' The surroundings were hush, almost surreal.
'The Ministry had not disclosed the details yet. Severus, by any chance did Miss Granger tell you what she was working on?'
'Imperio.'
'Yes, I fear that they have been kidnapped for their knowledge. They may prove useful for them.' Albus did not say whom 'them' referred to.
Severus watched the old wizard bow his head. How many more upheavals did Albus Dumbledore have to overcome?
There had been peace! Severus' mind reeled. The Dark Wizards had lost all power at the end of the war. Did they wish to start from scratch? But it was madness to believe they could succeed! Or was it so reckless? They did manage to break into the Ministry, did they not? The wards were set up by some of the finest minds. Was there a traitor in the Ministry? If so, his heart beat rapidly, he was responsible for it. His spying duties had not fully accomplished the task of finding out the names of all the followers of Voldemort.
'Do not blame yourself Severus.' Albus' voice drifted to his ear. Seeing him, Severus knew Albus had come to the same conclusions as to the cause of the incident and that Severus would reprimand himself.
'Whoever helped them might not have been a Death-Eater.' Albus placed a thin, wrinkled hand on Severus' arm. 'Come, sit by me and have dinner. We'll work this out.'
Severus obeyed mutely. So, they wanted to lead the world again, did they? And there he was, selfishly feeling sorry for himself when it did not occur to him that Hermione could have had been in difficulty, as she was now. Oh gods, he felt sick. His brain malfunctioned. He failed to grasp who were involved and what they were planning. His mind was filled with desperate hope that Hermione was safe.
Severus was very tempted, very tempted indeed. He looked up at the fire close to him, burning bright and strong. His fingers twitched, eager to throw the whole pile of the students' assignments into the fireplace. Perhaps he should. That would teach the dunderheads to treat Potions seriously.
He sneered and pushed their papers away to the other edge of his table. Halfway through marking, he had gone from thinking them laughable, horrified, enraged, to scratching a vicious cross over most of the assignments monotonously. He felt a headache storming within.
Why were there always more idiots than people who at least strove for the best? Why could it not be the other way around? He did not even want to bother counting the few who were exceptionally intelligent.
The past week was terrible. A record high in accidents in the Potions classroom (he knew it was an ominous idea to have Weaseley triplets and Longbottom twins in one room), a flourish of loud activity as Black visited the staff (the man was incorrigible ever since his name was cleared), the House-Elves barging into his stores again (not the private ones obviously, but he must renew the wards), and plenty more. There was no relief, unless one counted Black slipping off his broom while boasting his rusty skills. It was not enough to balance out the torture he had undergone. And there was no letter from the Granger girl to lift the mood up.
Only after missing her letters for a week did he realise how precious they had become. They were a window to the outside world. More importantly, they were a testament to how life had changed for the better after Voldemort was vanquished. They showed him that what he had done, whilst insufficient in redeeming himself, was worth it. All the swirling darkness he had willingly, though fearfully, stepped into had paid off. There were future generations that need not live as their forefathers did, shrouded in uncertainty and chaos.
He wondered why she had stopped writing. He did not dare ask Minerva or anyone else whether it was the same case for them. He did not wish to show that it bothered him to such an extent. He did not wish to expose the fact that he was vulnerable to another's attitude toward him.
He presumed the others still got their regular mail from her. Perhaps she had finally tired of him. Perhaps she had finally accustomed herself to the knowledge that no one could move the ex-Death-Eater.
Only, she had. But she would never know.
Now his world was filled with empty memories.
He reminisced the period he had worked with her, trying to recollect what kind of character she was. There was an astonishing revelation of how compatible they were in their methods. Unlike her every attempt in getting his attention in class, she was neither demanding nor domineering, trusting him unconditionally to do what was rational and right. He did not appreciate it at that time.
She also took pains to understand his unreasonable mood-swings and went along with him, always trying not to disturb him. She was not dumb. She took up the initiative when crucial, pointing out the correct direction when he was too perturbed. Towards the end of her school-term, he found her presence not just a necessary tool, but an enjoyable companionship as well. Somehow, she was sensitive to his emotions despite his efforts to hide them. It did not worry him. He was at ease with her. Sometimes, they talked together. He did not think her crystal clear laughter and sharp wit had affected him then.
She had grown to be an exceptional woman. Taking out a yearbook, he flipped the pages until he came to her photograph, captured when she was in her seventh year.
That bushy mop of hair tugged the corners of his mouth up. He always poked fun at it in front of her. In retaliation, she had snapped about the 'sleekness' of his own. Underhanded, that one. She would make a fine Slytherin, and he did not mean it in the Malfoy sort.
Severus looked on pensively. Her eyes were amber, he had not noticed that before. He reckoned they were her best features, sparkling with intelligence and forthrightness. They were truly the windows to her mind and soul. The girl in the picture waved at him, appearing to be genuinely pleased to see him. Her mouth widened into a sweet smile, showing her teeth. Severus snorted in amusement. He remembered the incident in her fourth year. He did not regret mocking her. It tickled him.
The girl huffed good-naturedly and tilted her head in exasperation. She wagged a finger at him, as if to chide him.
Severus snapped the book shut and moped over his loss. He was threatening to sink into depression, all due to a slip of girl. At his age too! He scoffed. He could deal with this. It was far from a crisis.
A stray thought pounded insistently in his addled brain. Supposing he wrote to her, thanking her for her letters? And pray, he countered ruthlessly, what difference would it make? He refused to delve into sentimental nonsense in order to appease a student he had not seen for years. Albus would call it stubborn pride, but he knew it was common sense. The girl had given up on him. Why drag her in again?
Grimly satisfied with his decision, Severus went on to mark the rest of the homework.
After he finished, he proceeded to have dinner in the Hall. He had an overwhelming need of noise. It distracted him. However, when he entered the Hall, the first suspicion he had was that everyone had been Petrified. All the students were assembled and the food spread as abundantly and sumptuously as usual, yet not one stirred visibly. His eyes reached the far end of the Hall in alarm. His colleagues were motionless. Many were pale in face. Minerva's was pinched as it was wont to do when she heard grave news. Flitwick was hiccuping amidst tears, and Albus. he had not seen the Headmaster this severe for a long while.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he walked to the staff table, stealing glances at the students. He noted that several were devastated and their friends failed to comfort them.
What in all that the Four Founders held sacred was going on? He seemed to be the only one not privy to the earth-shattering news.
He conveyed his exact sentiments to Albus. Albus raised his weary eyes and met the younger pair of inquisitive dark eyes.
'The Ministry's reverted into their habit of hiding their troubles from us once more,' Albus informed him cryptically.
'The children whose parents worked in the Charms Department have not received mail from them and we haven't received any from Miss Granger. I checked with the Ministry but they persisted in keeping mute initially.'
Severus' spirits started sinking lower into the abyss.
'Even Arthur didn't know what had happened. Two hours ago, a fast news bulletin from the Daily Prophet revealed that one of its reporters uncovered the secret. The Charms Department had been wiped out last week.'
'Wiped out?' Severus suppressed the urge of imagining what it meant.
'The whole place was in a mess. All the researchers were missing, together with several materials.'
'Materials?' The surroundings were hush, almost surreal.
'The Ministry had not disclosed the details yet. Severus, by any chance did Miss Granger tell you what she was working on?'
'Imperio.'
'Yes, I fear that they have been kidnapped for their knowledge. They may prove useful for them.' Albus did not say whom 'them' referred to.
Severus watched the old wizard bow his head. How many more upheavals did Albus Dumbledore have to overcome?
There had been peace! Severus' mind reeled. The Dark Wizards had lost all power at the end of the war. Did they wish to start from scratch? But it was madness to believe they could succeed! Or was it so reckless? They did manage to break into the Ministry, did they not? The wards were set up by some of the finest minds. Was there a traitor in the Ministry? If so, his heart beat rapidly, he was responsible for it. His spying duties had not fully accomplished the task of finding out the names of all the followers of Voldemort.
'Do not blame yourself Severus.' Albus' voice drifted to his ear. Seeing him, Severus knew Albus had come to the same conclusions as to the cause of the incident and that Severus would reprimand himself.
'Whoever helped them might not have been a Death-Eater.' Albus placed a thin, wrinkled hand on Severus' arm. 'Come, sit by me and have dinner. We'll work this out.'
Severus obeyed mutely. So, they wanted to lead the world again, did they? And there he was, selfishly feeling sorry for himself when it did not occur to him that Hermione could have had been in difficulty, as she was now. Oh gods, he felt sick. His brain malfunctioned. He failed to grasp who were involved and what they were planning. His mind was filled with desperate hope that Hermione was safe.