Title: The Turning Point
Author: SevenAgainstThebes
Rating: PG-13
Keywords: HG/SS; AU
Disclaimer: JKR owns all HP characters, places, etc. etc....I merely get to borrow them for this little writing exercise.
Note: A plot bunny attacked me ^_^ Hermione and Severus are a little OOC here (maybe a lot to some of you) but the situation they're in probably explains why.
Flashbacks will be in italics. It gets complicated I think…but I wanted to set this up well. Reviews/criticism/praise are welcomed. Flames are not. If you want to archive this, please e-mail me before you do so.
* * *
The cup of black coffee that she had ordered nearly an hour ago had turned cold and was beginning to take on a sludge-like consistency. But Hermione Granger ('No, no…Audra…it's been six years and you still can't get your name right.') wasn't at this hotel café for the coffee. Outside, swirling black crowds of people rushed back and forth. The sky had grown dark with heavy rain clouds and had started to rain again. It seemed that many were without their umbrellas. A few came in to get a respite from the rain and to shake off the water from their coats but none of them were revealed to be the man she was waiting for.
Hermione ('I'm still the old me inside.' she reasoned.) checked her watch. Fifteen minutes past six. She absentmindedly tapped her fingernails on the table.
'And he used to be so punctual.' She recalled the times in the past where he lectured her classmates on punctuality and took extreme pleasure from assigning detentions from those who were tardy.
The war was the turning point for the wizarding world and with the drastic changes that took place afterwards, the new ('Improved?' she smiled to herself.) Severus Snape was probably the most comforting one.
* * *
"Oh Gods, my head..." she moaned. She tried to open her eyes.
"Shh...you've got to be quiet," A voice from above her whispered. "No, don't open your eyes yet. Don't move, don't make a sound. He's coming back right now."
Something heavy was shifted upon her; the taste of blood was in her mouth. What was going on?
"Master, the bodies are in here. You may see for yourself," came the voice from before.
"Good...they are all dead?"
"I made sure of it."
Hermione opened her eyes slightly and through the haze and the heat ('A fire?') she could make out a towering figure dressed completely in voluminous black robes.
"Very good, Malfoy. Very good." The figure in black stooped to the ground and seemed to be checking for something on a body near her. "No pulse. Perfect. The Potter boy is dead. And where is the body of that great Mudblood loving fool?"
"Blasted to pieces. Crabbe and Goyle got him. I have only an arm here. Will that be a problem, my Lord?"
"No, how could there be problems now? Everything I've worked for has been realized. I will have to go check our dead." Voldemort turned to leave. "Dispose of the bodies." he called back over his shoulder.
The heavy object on top of her was shifted to the side. Draco Malfoy's pale face hovered above her.
"Granger. You have to get out of here. There is little time to explain. So I will give you the basic details." he glanced backwards as if checking for eavesdroppers. "Potter and Weasley are dead. Two thirds of the student body have been blasted to oblivion. Dumbledore is still alive. So are most of the faculty. We are going to be implementing an incredibly risky plan, if we are discovered, there will be no hope for any of the living. Here," he held out a tiny silver ring. "don't touch it until I tell you to. Hide in Muggle London. Mundungus Fletcher will contact you about your new identity. When the time is right, we will contact you and tell you more."
Crabbe and Goyle walked in, dragging in a body that looked like herself. Malfoy saw her confusion and hastily explained. "It's Polyjuice. It'll deflect attention from those who are still alive. Now take the ring."
She felt the familiar tug at her middle and the world around her faded to black.
* * *
She had been given a new identity. Her new life was completely Muggle, except on the rare occasion she had need to venture into the wizarding world and use magic. Dumbledore had spoken to her just once, five years ago, and the change she saw in him was sobering. The twinkle gone from his blue eyes and the burden of the wizarding world placed solely on his shoulders.
Voldemort had taken over.
Wizards and witches had to register with the puppet government of the Ministry of Magic in order to perform magic (those who refused were killed) and had their movements tracked ('Unless they're 'dead,' like me.' she thought morbidly.). The Muggle world had no clue about the change in the wizarding world. Percy Weasley, the new Minister of Magic, was only happy (ensured by the Imperius Curse) to comply with Voldemort's commands and kept up a normal seeming façade for any inquiries made by the British Prime Minister.
Underground movements, of which Dumbledore was in charge of, arose in defiance of Voldemort. So far, they had kept mostly quiet, busy formulating plans, tracking Death Eaters and sometimes starting skirmishes with them. Hermione was primarily an informant, ranked high in the Consortium that provided and passed on information. She had always known that Dumbledore was an intelligent wizard, but the evidence of his intelligence in the past had no comparison to the tactics he was employing now. Dumbledore had created and implemented complex plans and avenues of communication to prevent the leaking of information and the quick removal of those who dared pass on information to the wrong individuals. Last she heard, Dumbledore was dabbling with the greyer aspects of the Dark Arts.
Yes, Dumbledore had changed. But so had she.
* * *
She made her way down the pavement to her office building quickly. From time to time she would pretend to glance at the store windows to check her appearance but really she was checking to see if anyone was following her.
Paranoia was useful in this new career of hers. Mad Eye Moody's mantra of "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" had become her own.
In the Muggle world, she was a book editor. In the Consortium, she was an informant and if need be, a damned good assassin (picking off Death Eaters who accidentally strayed from the pack was easy, served as a sort of revenge, and was her specialty, she noted callously.). Barely a year had passed since the debacle at Hogwarts, and her life was heading in a completely different direction.
Two weeks after the tragedy, she was settled into her new flat and her new identity.
A month after the battle, Draco had contacted her and they had met in order for her to get more information. They met for an hour at a nondescript Parisian bistro, far away from possible prying eyes. Any longer and Draco would be subjected to suspicion by Voldemort, who also grew more and more paranoid and mistrustful, sometimes dipping into unreasonable moods, when he realized that shadowy opposition groups were still out there. It was at that time that Draco gave her an in-depth explanation of what was going on.
Another month passed and she was called to meet with Dumbledore. She fabricated an elaborate story about having to attend to her dying mother (her parents were alive and well but had been informed of her death) and was allowed to take leave of her job to spend time with the still powerful wizard. It was at Dumbledore's headquarters (the location was Unplottable and moved often) that she was reunited with some of her friends and former professors. The month passed quickly in additional training in combat and on the final day before she was to go back, she was introduced to the two informants with which she would be communicating with exclusively.
Neville Longbottom and Severus Snape.
'The Accident Prone and the Bat' she had thought. 'What joy.'
* * *
Her last meeting with Neville ('No, not Neville...he's Andrew now...') had been a three weeks ago. He was required to check in with her every three weeks with or without new information.
Neville was also a surprising change. He still tripped over his feet every so often but he had matured into a young man whose robust stature was now matched by his substantial intelligence and wit. One would not be able to identify him as the clumsy, forgetful boy he had been years long ago.
The passing on of information was an elaborately detailed affair. Dumbledore and those who were part of the specially chosen committee that pulled together the far flung branches of the Consortium made the decisions concerning when information and commands would be given to the primary tier of informants. Those informants (of which she and Severus were a part of) communicated with each other first, exchanging various information that they had picked up from the "higher ups" and those that were lower down the tier.
The primary informants then met with the secondary tier (Neville was a part of this tier) and passed on the information that they were given. This went on all the way down to the information scouts (Draco was part of this) who played a semi-active part in the wizarding world in the face of constant danger, should they ever be discovered.
Meetings were set up through a tiny handmirror, similar to the one that Sirius had given Harry back in their 5th year. The mirrors were set to allow them to talk to three individuals only. Besides their two primary contacts, informants were also allowed to talk directly to Dumbledore if there was an emergency or urgent news.
Hermione sipped a little at her cold coffee. The silver ring on her left ring finger was as good as any a deterrent for curious men. It also served another important purpose. The ring had a small diamond set in it. If Dumbledore needed to call any of them to him, the diamond would turn a deep blue and they would have a minute to drop what they were doing, make excuses to get away and then the ring would serve as a Portkey. If it turned red, it meant that a segment of their branch of communication had been broken. The ring was imbued with a variant of the Fidelius Charm. Any communiqués that involved secret information with individuals other than fellow informants and the removal of the ring for longer than 30 seconds would break the charm and would alert the others. The diamond would then turn blue and they were required to immediately check in with Dumbledore.
If it turned green, it meant that the person she was meeting was within a 100 meters radius. Hermione checked her ring again. It was a deep green.
She looked up just in time to see Severus Snape enter the hotel lobby.
* * *
Their first meeting was not a good omen for their future dealings with each other.
"Miss Granger. How pleased I am to find you alive. I fear that the happy news of your survival coupled with Longbottom's continued existence will be too much pleasure for my heart to bear." Snape intoned sardonically.
"Professor Snape...I see you still have the personality of a total prick. How utterly comforting that is for me." she responded acidly.
* * *
"Audra."
"David."
A pause.
"You're late, again."
"You said seven."
"I said six."
"Oh...well…you are fine, I hope?"
"I'm fine. Thanks for asking. And you?"
"I'm alive, if that's any indication of health."
* * *
Their second meeting two months later hadn't gotten off to a good start.
"Audra."
"David."
They fell silent. Seeing that Severus wasn't about to say anything else, Hermione plowed ahead in the conversation.
"Normally, in pleasant and polite conversation, this would be the time for you to inquire about my health."
"You have such high expectations for our interactions, Audra."
Later, after information had been exchanged, there was another lull in the conversation.
"So...David...how are you?"
There was no reply to her query.
"Damn it David...I am not your student anymore. I don't think I'm remotely like the person I was before. Am I asking too much when I want you to be civil? I demand, no don't give me that look; I demand that you treat me as an equal."
He only continued to scowl at her.
"Fine...fine, I give up. If this is how it's going to be, then fuck it. Fuck it all," she whispered viciously. "I am going back to Albus and I will tell him I want another partner."
As she fumbled for the papers on the table, she continued to vent at him. "You are nothing but a sad, lonely little man. And you will never, ever, be anything more. Hide in the darkness, revel in it; but don't you dare look on me with contempt just because I happen to have some semblance of happiness. Don't you dare try to spite me just because you decided to play the part of the martyr and deny yourself all the pleasanter aspects of life."
She picked up her coat and turned to leave. "Go to hell David. Go to hell and see if I care if you never come back."
She was nearing the door when a voice behind her said, "Audra, please...
"I am sorry."
* * *
The man seated across from her at the dinner table gave her a puzzled look.
"What?" she asked.
"You're staring at me."
"It's just, even now...your personality...your hair...your clothes...it's you, but at the same time, it's not you."
"Would you feel more comfortable if I got out of my seat and swooped around you like the great bat you once knew?"
* * *
It was three years after the battle at Hogwarts.
Gradually, they found themselves revealing more about each other as time went on. Severus was an interesting conversationalist; self-deprecating and a much more complex character than she remembered from her past. The times they spent together were, Hermione admitted, intensely enjoyable. But she had a feeling that he was hiding something from her. His words were light-hearted but the look in his eyes made her feel like he was shutting her out. 'Must be a defense mechanism...but for what?' she wondered.
Then one night, after a particularly good dinner and conversation, something mundane sparked a change in the dynamics between them.
"Ow, shit...my eye." Hermione blinked furiously and rubbed at her right eye.
"What's wrong? An eyelash?" Severus inquired, looking at her with concern.
"Yes." She stood up. "Pardon me, I'll just go to the lavatory."
"No, wait. Here," he got up and moved to her side. "open your eyes."
His hands felt warm and dry cupping her face. Hermione struggled to do as he said and was rewarded with a puff of air being blown into her eye.
"What are you trying to do?" she asked. Her only reply was another puff of air. Hermione tried to pull away.
"I'm trying to get rid of the eyelash, you silly girl. Now hold still." But what he got for his efforts was a giggling Hermione who wouldn't do as he said.
"Do you realize how stupid we look? Me, trying to open my eyes, and you blowing into them and causing me to close them again." she giggled, still rubbing at her eye.
"It's supposed to help," he said, a defensive tone creeping into his voice. "My mother always used to do that to me whenever I had something in my eye."
Hermione shot him an amused look. "I never figured you were the maternal type, Severus."
He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Come here. I'll try it again."
But before he could blow into her eye again, she blinked once and said, "It's gone."
"I told you it would help."
"It was my blinking that got rid of it, not that ridiculous solution of yours." Her remark only earned her a stony glare. "All right," she conceded. "Whatever you did helped too and I'm eternally grateful for your assisting me in my time of need."
He still continued to glower at her.
Hermione sighed. His hands were still cupping her face, and his thumbs were idly stroking the curve of her cheekbones. She looked at him directly in the eyes and said, "Severus, thank you. Truly, I am grateful for everything you've done for me." Her gaze softened. "You are such a comfort to me right now. With all that has been lost, I can at least feel like I've gained something in you."
He remained impassive for a moment, and then, to Hermione, it seemed as though the closed off part of him he never before revealed to her, finally opened. His gaze, intent and full of ('Desire? Longing?' Hermione attempted to put a label on that feeling that was so evident in his eyes.), was so focused on her that she felt as if at that moment, she was everything that mattered to him.
The thought unnerved her, made her skittish. "I think...I think I must go." she whispered. He released her and Hermione grabbed her purse and left.
* * *
Severus broke the silence that usually lingered between them after the dinner was over. "I have heard...rumors."
"So have I." Hermione set down her cup of coffee.
"They say Dumbledore plans to make an attack on Voldemort in a couple of weeks."
"Yes, that's what I've heard also." She looked at him. He could see a flicker of apprehension in her expression.
"Are you prepared if that is the case?" he prodded gently.
"I am..." she schooled her features into something resembling the expressionless look on his face. "I've been ready for six years now."
That statement wasn't simply one said out of a need for bravado. She was ready. For the past six years, she felt as if her life was put on hold. She loved the Muggle world, yes, it was one she spent her childhood immersed in; but she wanted to go back to the wizarding world. The one that she had loved and took pride in for most of her youth. She recalled the words that Dumbledore had said to her during their one and only meeting after the debacle at Hogwarts.
* * *
The old wizard sitting in front of her bore physical resemblance to the kindly Headmaster she had known during her years at Hogwarts, but his benevolent demeanor was now tinged with a hint of brusqueness, the twinkle gone from his blue eyes, and the fate of the wizarding world effectively settled on his stooped shoulders.
"Miss Granger," he took her hands in his. "the world has changed drastically since we last met. The unexpected has happened. People we know and have loved have died... your world has been turned upside down."
Tears prickled her eyes. Dumbledore shook his head. "No...don't cry, my dear. Do not cry just yet. You may think me a cruel old man, but heed my advice. Do not grieve for them just yet. We have work to do and a war to be won. Harrow up the sorrow you feel and twist it into something useful. Grief will not help us now; it is the intensity of focus on our goal which we need most at the moment. It is only when Voldemort's blood has been spilled that the survivors can finally mourn."
* * *
"Yes...yes, I am ready." Hermione said, her voice stronger this time.
"Good." Severus gave her a weary smile. He paused for a moment. "You must know that this may be the last time we see each other until the attack."
"Yes, I assumed that would be the case."
"We may not live through the final battle either," he said slowly.
"I realized that too." Her voice, a hoarse whisper now, could barely be heard over the noise of conversations going on around them.
"Do you..." he started, looking uncertain. "I mean, I understand if you don't want to, but-"
"Yes, I do. I want to."
He pushed back his chair and stood up. "Shall we?"
Hermione took the arm he offered her. "Yes, let us go to our room."
* * *
She had been sitting at her kitchen table, rereading the documents that had been sent to her via owl. The clock on the kitchen countertop ticked away.
'5:23...he should be home now.' she decided. Severus worked at the local pharmaceutical plant, conducting research on medicines. It was a job that he found to be similar to potions making and had little need for social interactions, something that suited him well.
Hermione picked up the handmirror. "I want to speak to Severus Snape."
The mirror became cloudy and then cleared so she could see his face. He smiled at her. "Hello Hermione. There is a meeting that needs to be arranged."
"Yes, shall we meet at the same place we met at last time?"
"I've arranged for us to meet elsewhere."
This was new. Usually she was the one who made the arrangements to meet. "Really now...so where is this place?"
"The Chancery Court Hotel."
Hermione blinked twice. "Erm...what?"
"It's a nice location, really. And it wasn't all that expensive." he insisted.
And so, at 7 the next evening, Hermione found herself walking down the hallway towards room 202. She knew ('It was so blindingly obvious, Granger.' she admonished herself.) that something had changed between them since that night at the restaurant. It wasn't as if she minded taking their relationship to the next level. She had been lonely for so long. Although she got along well enough with her coworkers, she never had the urge to cultivate friendships or find lovers. To her, she was just playing a part in a very elaborate drama; it was just better off and simpler for her to isolate herself from the others. Relationships were complicated and both parties needed to be more open than she was allowed, or wanted, to be.
She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. A moment later, the door opened.
"Hermione...come in." He stepped back from the door to allow her entrance. She walked in and draped her coat over a chair. Severus walked towards the bed and sat down.
She handed him a manila envelope. "Those are the inter-Ministry documents that Draco sent me. A list of all the newest Death Eaters, their locations, and a list of those he expects to be under Imperius. It might be useful for the scouts in approaching people to recruit to our side."
"I'll be sure to pass it on." He placed the envelope on the night table near the bed.
"Severus...is there something you want to tell me?" Hermione moved closer to him. It was a strange feeling, towering over him while he sat on the edge of the bed, avoiding her eyes and feigning interest in something stuck in his nails.
"Hermione," his voice was low, the words he spoke, hesitant. "I know I'm not the man most women would want to be with; my past alone is enough to drive people away from me. I know I can be bitter, hurtful, and insensitive. Most of my years were spent alone, something my independent nature always craved, but recently I've felt that I, Merlin help me..." he finally looked up at her. "I am lost without you."
"Oh, I..." her pulse pounded in her ears. She had always been outspoken, but in that moment, words failed her.
"I must have seemed so transparent to you, asking you to come meet me here. But I'll understand if you're not ready, or if you're not willing." He gave a short laugh. "It must seem so strange to you, being propositioned ineptly by the professor you hated in school." He stood up and made his way to the door. "I'll just let you leave then."
She stopped him with a hand on his chest. "No...I never hated you, Severus. I just never got to know you well enough." She tiled her head up at him and smiled. "We've got this beautiful room and we have an entire night ahead of us. Why not enjoy it?"
* * *
Her head was resting on his chest. Smiling to herself, she listened to him as he breathed. If she listened really carefully, she could detect him snoring slightly. 'Who would ever think Severus Snape, the evil Potions Master of Hogwarts, would have such a ladylike snore?' she thought, and started to laugh. Clapping a hand to her mouth, she tired to stifle the giggles but her body still shook with the repressed laughter.
"Hermione?" he asked, sleepily.
"Nothing, it's nothing." she replied, a smirk still on her face. Even now, after this change in their relationship, they still stuck to their old pattern of interaction. During a month, it was normal for them to see each other just once. It was better that way, they both agreed, for there was still work to be done and they couldn't afford that many distractions. 'Business-like, as usual, but when the war is over, and if we're both still alive, do we want it to continue like that?' she asked herself. She trailed her fingers over his chest, tracing a pattern over his ribs. "I think I'm in love with you, Severus."
"You think so?"
"All right, I know so, are you happy now?"
He pressed a kiss onto the top of her head. "My sentimental little Gryffindor," he murmured.
She snorted. "And who was it that declared to me, 'I am lost without you'? If I'm sentimental, then you're a big sap."
He pulled her closer to him. "Hermione, when this is over, and if Voldemort is defeated, what do you want to do?"
She thought for a moment. "I think I might want to rebuild Hogwarts. There were so many memories there...I want to have it back."
"I can't get that place out of my head either. Surprising, really, when I consider that I never wanted to teach there in the first place. It was only out a sense of obligation to Dumbledore that I stayed. But it grew on me. Sometimes, I'll dream myself back there, working on various potions, terrorizing students...good dreams like that."
"You're horrible." She turned over and propped herself up on her elbows to face him. "If we get out of this alive, do you think we could start a life together?"
He shrugged. "It sounds very possible to me."
"So?"
"So what?"
"What else?" she persisted.
"Hermione, let's just focus on the present at the moment." At the skeptical look on her face, he sighed. "I'm not trying to weasel my way out of anything. When it's over, we'll deal with it. But right now, the future is still uncertain. We must focus on the goal at hand."
She flopped back onto the bed. Then, "Will you find me when it's over?"
"Of course."
"Promise?"
"On my honor as a well known traitor and an ex-Death Eater."
Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.
* * *
Amidst the darkness, the screams, the smell of death and the intermittent light emitted from spells being cast, she spotted him.
He moved swiftly through the masses of duelling wizards and witches. Every once in a while, he would throw a curse at someone or take someone on in hand to hand combat. As he cast a particularly strong curse, she could see his face more clearly in the greenish light. He looked tired, his eyes deadened to the carnage around him.
Someone yelled behind her. There was a sizzling sound and she turned to find a pile of ashes at her feet.
"Hermione, that guy almost got you!" Ginny Weasley was at her side. Her long red hair had been cut short in a pageboy.
"Sorry, Ginny, I got distracted." Hermione shook her head and pushed away all thoughts of Severus. 'Concentrate, Granger. You're never going to get out of this if you don't pay attention.'
"Granger! Weasley! Over here! There's more of them!" Draco Malfoy's voice could be heard clearly over the chaos. Her wand at the ready, Hermione ran towards his voice. Working as a unit, the three of them alternately blocked spells and cast curses.
Summoning as much power as she could muster, Hermione cast the strongest Shield Charm she knew.
'Wish this was over.'
* * *
And finally, it was.
She sat at the kitchen table of her flat, reading the Daily Prophet from cover to cover. Dumbledore had defeated Voldemort, but the casting of the final spell cost him his own life. Wizards all over the world had come to honor his passing and there had been a very long, very elaborate ceremony to honor and grieve for him and all those who had died in defense of the wizarding world.
The wizarding world was rebuilding itself from the ground up. Last she heard, Draco Malfoy was being considered as a strong candidate for Minister of Magic. 'Oh how things change,' Hermione thought, glancing at a picture of Draco waving to the crowds in the Daily Prophet. The newspaper also contained news on the rebuilding of Hogwarts. With the death of Dumbledore, Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall was to be named Headmistress in a ceremony at the ruins of Hogwarts before the reconstruction started.
Close to a month had passed since the fall of Voldemort and things were looking like they were finally going in the right direction.
A month, and Severus still did not contact her. He wasn't on any of the lists of the dead, nor was he on the patient list at St. Mungo's. 'Did he change his mind about us?' she wondered. She knew that the first week after the defeat was a busy one, she had to quit her job at the book editing company, contact her parents and convince them she was still alive, and make plans to move back into the wizarding mainstream. But a time lapse of a month?
The little handmirror was on the table in front of her. She had been unsure about contacting him before this, not wanting to bother him nor seem like she was nagging him about his vague promise to her. She took a deep breath and picked up the mirror.
"I want to speak with Severus Snape," she said.
The mirror clouded.
His face didn't appear.
She felt like she couldn't breathe. Her heart was beating so hard and so fast, she thought it was going to burst out of her chest. "Oh God..." she moaned, burying her face in her hands. That insufferable bastard. That infuriating man who made her think he loved her and got her to fall in love with him in return. That son of a b-
"Is there something wrong, Miss Granger?"
Hermione whirled around. He stood there, a slightly apologetic smile on his face. "I guess I'm a little late in contacting you," he offered lamely.
She smiled sweetly. "And I still love you, the greasy git that you are."
* * *
The End ^_^
Hope you all enjoyed this fic :) As always, I am grateful to those of you who reviewed.
Cheers,
SevenAgainstThebes