Chapter 8: In which Severus reads Hermione's 'letters'
[Dear Severus,
May I call you Severus? It seems more right, if I finally decide to write down what I truly think and feel.
It's hopeless to say things like 'How are you?' or 'How's your day?' to you. You'll only scoff at it and dismiss it as weakness.
Please, don't treat this as though it is a frivolous schoolgirl fancy. I'm not a schoolgirl and this is something I've debated about this to myself for a very long while.
You've always been a difficult and complicated man Severus. I don't why I'm starting it out like this, but I need to clear out my thoughts when they involve you. They get all tangled up.
I need to analyse my feelings for you. Do I admire you as a teacher? No. Do I respect you for your knowledge and skills? Yes. Do the courage and devotion you showed to the cause you've chosen to fight in touch me? Yes. Do I find myself missing your company as I've never imagined?
What I'm trying to say is just. I wish we can return to the days when I was a student helping you. We seemed to be able to talk, to communicate then. There were times when I even dared believe that you considered me as an equal. All that's changed. You are so silent. You don't return my letters.
I can't complain. It's a foolish thing to cling on to promise that has never been made. I thought we were friends. I admit, I wrote to you as a formality in the beginning, but I realised I was hoping I could hear from you.
You're causing me anguish Severus. And you'll never know. I wanted to send this to you initially. I wanted to pour out my frustration to you and blame you for the confusion you've inflicted in me.
But I can't. For all the jokes we make at your expense, no one doubts that you have a conscience under those dratted layers you've covered yourself with. Reading this will only sadden you and give you undeserved guilt when it's not your fault. I can't have that. I can't be responsible for adding to your pain.
Oh gods, I don't know how I'm going to live with this secret. I fear Harry suspects it. I can't afford to have anyone know. I can't live fearing someone might tell you.
There, there, it is done. I've sealed my fate in ink.
Because I've fallen in love with you Severus.]
The 'letter' was cut off with that single sentence and a smudge. Severus shunned from the explanation that the latter was due to a teardrop.
It was the last letter, dated only two weeks back, in the series of letters which Severus wished he had not taken with him. They were all in the same vein, starting as a call to him but ending in resolute silence. The difference between this last and its predecessors was that while the latter retained repression in passion, the former abandoned all pretense of control and gushed forth with all the writer's unrestrained emotion, wounding Severus in turn.
What was that Muggle phrase about curiousity killing the cat? There appeared to be an element of truth in it. He felt an ache in his chest.
To have her on his mind everyday, wondering if she were safe, to remember their every meeting, to enjoy her wit and intellect, to unconsciously seek to impress her with his own. He reviewed his behaviour during her school years with despair. It occurred to him that somewhere in his life he had already accepted her as an essential being and molded his future such as to include her. Solitude was his companion for so long. She was the first person since Albus who managed to penetrate through his shield. This time, hindsight told him it would remain broken forever.
He wanted her with him. He wanted her to hold him and tell him it was all right, like when the last battle was fought and won and he had discovered his Dark Mark had disappeared. Overwhelming exhaustion and relief had caused his legs to malfunction. She had taken him in her embrace, soothing him as he had wept and trembled like a child.
He had resented her for seeing him vulnerable, but he had been intrigued afterwards that he did not regret her being there to support him.
Was this what love felt like? If so, where lay the true joy lovers claimed to experience?
He berated himself. He and Hermione were assuredly not lovers.
He needed to see her. He needed to talk to her. He needed. . . He needed to find her and get this mess straightened out. Obviously Hermione was under the illusion that he was some Romantic reluctant hero. She could not fall in love with him. She could never.
I can't cope with this! I can't! His mind reeled. I've never done this before. Oh Hermione, please please go away. You don't know what it's like to be me. You don't know what I am. I'll only ever hurt another.
'Severus?'
'You come at the worst times Albus.' Severus said wretchedly.
Albus sat beside him quietly. 'Harry told me. He only suspects it.'
Severus shook his head in bewilderment, as though it could cast off the reality that faced him. 'She's mad. Utterly mad.' He steeled himself in anticipation of Albus' agreement.
The old wizard however, sighed.
'Do you think so lowly of yourself Severus? No don't answer, I know.'
'No, you don't,' said Severus in a flare of resentment, which was swiftly crushed by sorrow again.
'Then tell me, I want to understand.'
'You have the infinite stubbornness of your age. After all these years? Why?' asked Severus.
'It's because I want to help you.'
'Because you're Albus Dumbledore?' Severus was feeling bone-weary.
'No,' replied Albus seriously, 'because you deserve it, lad.'
Severus was taken aback. 'You and I,' he said through gritted teeth, 'do not have the same opinions on several matters Albus. This is just one. Do not let our mutual respect and. . . damn it, I'll say it, affection, blind you. I deserve all that's happened in my life. I am not a nice man.'
'No,' Albus said patiently, 'You're a good man. That's all that's important. If Harry can submit to that fact, you know it must be true.'
'I don't hold Potter's opinion in high regard Headmaster,' Severus countered snidely. He could not stand the wise understanding and sympathy blazing in those eyes. It was ridiculous that such an old man could possess such clarity in his eyes.
'You're only saying that.'
'No, I'm not,' Severus replied sulkily, but even he had to admit there was no bite in his voice.
'And you accuse me of being. . . You have the stubbornness of a ten-year- old,' said Albus in exasperation. 'Is it so terrible to think yourself capable of feeling?'
Severus sighed, and flung his arms theatrically, 'We should be discussing about the rescue mission. My feelings are of no importance.'
'The details have been mapped out Severus,' Albus said testily, 'What of Miss Granger's feelings,' he said abruptly, 'Are they of importance?' Severus winced slightly when that last word came as a crack.
'Of course,' he said carefully. He wondered just how much Albus knew about Hermione's letters.
Being eerily omnipotent, Albus answered his thought, 'Then you should get down to it. She's in love with you.'
Severus winced again. The strangeness of love and himself combined hurt him inexplicably.
Albus kept his peace and said nothing.
Severus cursed both him and himself and remained quiet as well. He was compelled to go over his behaviour toward Hermione since her graduation critically. His aversion and his stony silent treatment. Then his anxiety in learning she was gone. He came to a different perspective.
'I should have faced it long before shouldn't I? I love her,' he breathed out. He thought that he would be embarrassed at the open admission. Yet it was the gnawing sense of helplessness he had felt for days that ate at him and the ache he had become accustomed to returned to his chest.
'Albus, I can't do this. I don't know how to.'
'Do you think all of us know how to? Do you think there is an innate ability in us that teaches us how to be in a relationship? That there is a correct method as to how to be with the one you love?'
Severus stared dumbfounded. Yes. That was it. Everyone knew something he did not.
Albus contradicted him gently. 'There is no how to. Love is a beautiful, singular joy. But it's not an easy road. It takes a lot of dedication and hard work. At the end, you'll find it all worthwhile.'
Dedication and hard work. They had not met for years. Would she change her mind when she encountered him again? Would she want to start a relationship with a man who was an ex-Death-Eater, a Potions Master from hell, and one who was not handsome and almost twice her age?
'Miss Granger is a remarkable woman,' was all Albus said enigmatically. 'I'm sure that the both of you will solve the issues between each other.'
Severus wished he could share in the Headmaster's confidence.
[Dear Severus,
May I call you Severus? It seems more right, if I finally decide to write down what I truly think and feel.
It's hopeless to say things like 'How are you?' or 'How's your day?' to you. You'll only scoff at it and dismiss it as weakness.
Please, don't treat this as though it is a frivolous schoolgirl fancy. I'm not a schoolgirl and this is something I've debated about this to myself for a very long while.
You've always been a difficult and complicated man Severus. I don't why I'm starting it out like this, but I need to clear out my thoughts when they involve you. They get all tangled up.
I need to analyse my feelings for you. Do I admire you as a teacher? No. Do I respect you for your knowledge and skills? Yes. Do the courage and devotion you showed to the cause you've chosen to fight in touch me? Yes. Do I find myself missing your company as I've never imagined?
What I'm trying to say is just. I wish we can return to the days when I was a student helping you. We seemed to be able to talk, to communicate then. There were times when I even dared believe that you considered me as an equal. All that's changed. You are so silent. You don't return my letters.
I can't complain. It's a foolish thing to cling on to promise that has never been made. I thought we were friends. I admit, I wrote to you as a formality in the beginning, but I realised I was hoping I could hear from you.
You're causing me anguish Severus. And you'll never know. I wanted to send this to you initially. I wanted to pour out my frustration to you and blame you for the confusion you've inflicted in me.
But I can't. For all the jokes we make at your expense, no one doubts that you have a conscience under those dratted layers you've covered yourself with. Reading this will only sadden you and give you undeserved guilt when it's not your fault. I can't have that. I can't be responsible for adding to your pain.
Oh gods, I don't know how I'm going to live with this secret. I fear Harry suspects it. I can't afford to have anyone know. I can't live fearing someone might tell you.
There, there, it is done. I've sealed my fate in ink.
Because I've fallen in love with you Severus.]
The 'letter' was cut off with that single sentence and a smudge. Severus shunned from the explanation that the latter was due to a teardrop.
It was the last letter, dated only two weeks back, in the series of letters which Severus wished he had not taken with him. They were all in the same vein, starting as a call to him but ending in resolute silence. The difference between this last and its predecessors was that while the latter retained repression in passion, the former abandoned all pretense of control and gushed forth with all the writer's unrestrained emotion, wounding Severus in turn.
What was that Muggle phrase about curiousity killing the cat? There appeared to be an element of truth in it. He felt an ache in his chest.
To have her on his mind everyday, wondering if she were safe, to remember their every meeting, to enjoy her wit and intellect, to unconsciously seek to impress her with his own. He reviewed his behaviour during her school years with despair. It occurred to him that somewhere in his life he had already accepted her as an essential being and molded his future such as to include her. Solitude was his companion for so long. She was the first person since Albus who managed to penetrate through his shield. This time, hindsight told him it would remain broken forever.
He wanted her with him. He wanted her to hold him and tell him it was all right, like when the last battle was fought and won and he had discovered his Dark Mark had disappeared. Overwhelming exhaustion and relief had caused his legs to malfunction. She had taken him in her embrace, soothing him as he had wept and trembled like a child.
He had resented her for seeing him vulnerable, but he had been intrigued afterwards that he did not regret her being there to support him.
Was this what love felt like? If so, where lay the true joy lovers claimed to experience?
He berated himself. He and Hermione were assuredly not lovers.
He needed to see her. He needed to talk to her. He needed. . . He needed to find her and get this mess straightened out. Obviously Hermione was under the illusion that he was some Romantic reluctant hero. She could not fall in love with him. She could never.
I can't cope with this! I can't! His mind reeled. I've never done this before. Oh Hermione, please please go away. You don't know what it's like to be me. You don't know what I am. I'll only ever hurt another.
'Severus?'
'You come at the worst times Albus.' Severus said wretchedly.
Albus sat beside him quietly. 'Harry told me. He only suspects it.'
Severus shook his head in bewilderment, as though it could cast off the reality that faced him. 'She's mad. Utterly mad.' He steeled himself in anticipation of Albus' agreement.
The old wizard however, sighed.
'Do you think so lowly of yourself Severus? No don't answer, I know.'
'No, you don't,' said Severus in a flare of resentment, which was swiftly crushed by sorrow again.
'Then tell me, I want to understand.'
'You have the infinite stubbornness of your age. After all these years? Why?' asked Severus.
'It's because I want to help you.'
'Because you're Albus Dumbledore?' Severus was feeling bone-weary.
'No,' replied Albus seriously, 'because you deserve it, lad.'
Severus was taken aback. 'You and I,' he said through gritted teeth, 'do not have the same opinions on several matters Albus. This is just one. Do not let our mutual respect and. . . damn it, I'll say it, affection, blind you. I deserve all that's happened in my life. I am not a nice man.'
'No,' Albus said patiently, 'You're a good man. That's all that's important. If Harry can submit to that fact, you know it must be true.'
'I don't hold Potter's opinion in high regard Headmaster,' Severus countered snidely. He could not stand the wise understanding and sympathy blazing in those eyes. It was ridiculous that such an old man could possess such clarity in his eyes.
'You're only saying that.'
'No, I'm not,' Severus replied sulkily, but even he had to admit there was no bite in his voice.
'And you accuse me of being. . . You have the stubbornness of a ten-year- old,' said Albus in exasperation. 'Is it so terrible to think yourself capable of feeling?'
Severus sighed, and flung his arms theatrically, 'We should be discussing about the rescue mission. My feelings are of no importance.'
'The details have been mapped out Severus,' Albus said testily, 'What of Miss Granger's feelings,' he said abruptly, 'Are they of importance?' Severus winced slightly when that last word came as a crack.
'Of course,' he said carefully. He wondered just how much Albus knew about Hermione's letters.
Being eerily omnipotent, Albus answered his thought, 'Then you should get down to it. She's in love with you.'
Severus winced again. The strangeness of love and himself combined hurt him inexplicably.
Albus kept his peace and said nothing.
Severus cursed both him and himself and remained quiet as well. He was compelled to go over his behaviour toward Hermione since her graduation critically. His aversion and his stony silent treatment. Then his anxiety in learning she was gone. He came to a different perspective.
'I should have faced it long before shouldn't I? I love her,' he breathed out. He thought that he would be embarrassed at the open admission. Yet it was the gnawing sense of helplessness he had felt for days that ate at him and the ache he had become accustomed to returned to his chest.
'Albus, I can't do this. I don't know how to.'
'Do you think all of us know how to? Do you think there is an innate ability in us that teaches us how to be in a relationship? That there is a correct method as to how to be with the one you love?'
Severus stared dumbfounded. Yes. That was it. Everyone knew something he did not.
Albus contradicted him gently. 'There is no how to. Love is a beautiful, singular joy. But it's not an easy road. It takes a lot of dedication and hard work. At the end, you'll find it all worthwhile.'
Dedication and hard work. They had not met for years. Would she change her mind when she encountered him again? Would she want to start a relationship with a man who was an ex-Death-Eater, a Potions Master from hell, and one who was not handsome and almost twice her age?
'Miss Granger is a remarkable woman,' was all Albus said enigmatically. 'I'm sure that the both of you will solve the issues between each other.'
Severus wished he could share in the Headmaster's confidence.