Once again the disclaimer: I bow in awe of J.K. Rowling genius. All characters and things in the Harry Potter world are hers. Please do not sue me. I make no money and you would undoubted piss readers off if you delay in continuing the saga as we anxiously await your next book. I have cited other fan fiction articles which have inspired me to incorporate their ideas in this story as well. I encourage you to read them. Please read and review. Thanks~ Leyna
Chapter 16: Of Dreams, Mysteries, and Tea
Snape grimaced as his movements were being conducted by the Boy Who Lived. Over the years they had developed an odd sort of relationship. Working together was inevitable. They were almost amicable. Harry and Severus were two of the most important members of the Order. The famous Potter and the dark spy.
"Come on, we need to speak with Hermione, and it'll be safe at her flat." Harry whispered.
"I thought you two were not getting along, that you hardly see each other."
Harry looked smug. "Good. That's what you're supposed to think."
Snape lip curled in appreciation. It was hard to fool him. The way they acted at the Headquarters what else were people supposed to think. Even Ron was in the dark.
The pair apparated to a set of small apartments in London. It looked like any other street.
Harry had a key to unlock the downstairs door to the Muggle flat, a brownstone, 3-story. They quietly crept up narrow wooden stairs and Harry drew his wand. With an "alohamora" the red door quietly swung open to reveal a small living room.
"Wow, I'm surprised the wards let you in. Hmmm, I suppose it's because I let you in." Snape thought that was self-centered, even coming from Harry. But Harry was just thinking aloud.
"Why didn't we just apparate in here?"
"She doesn't let anyone do that except for two people and I don't even know who the other wizard is who gets to do that." That explained why Harry didn't just apparate into her apartment. Snape might get himself splinched.
It was dark, except for light entering the window from the street illuminating a long horizontal room. A freshly painted yellow kitchen was to the far left, next was a round oak table with two chairs. It looked like it would have been larger, had the witch not shrunk it to make it fit so that the cook could make her way through the kitchen opening which it threatened to block. A long leather couch was ahead with deep rust quilt and olive colored chenille throw at the right arm. Then there was deep mahogany door which must have been her bedroom. The rest of the room was tastefully decorated with three small chairs in a circle at the window with a low circular table, covered with books and music. Colorful rugs in warm earth tones adorned a bare wood floor. A small apartment, but most of the wizarding community made "modifications" and took liberties with their homes which quite expanded them. He was positive that this wasn't all there was.
"She must be thorough here," Harry muttered and he crept toward the bedroom door, slightly ajar. Harry peeked and said, "She's sleeping. Thank God. Let's not wake her. Stay here, just be quiet. Here, wear this." He pulled out his Invisibility Cloak and gave it to Snape.
"What on earth is this for?" Snape refused it with a sneer.
"If she wakes up and you're here, she'll freak out and maybe—no, she will hex you to death before she even looks at you. I know from experience. She's the best. Should of been an Auror. Scary, really."
"We need to talk with her, Potter. Now. For her own well being," he said urgently.
"And she is safe, especially with you here guarding her. I won't be long, I just have an errand." And he disapparated.
Groan. Snape looked around the room for a moment then threw the cloak over his head and crept into the bedroom, standing at the far side near the window. Fortunately there was a plush chair with the back to the window and he sat, hopefully not to get too comfortable, lest he doze.
He didn't know what to expect really. Perhaps a mane of tangled hair framing her sleeping face, but instead her hair was neat, wavy, and tied in a half-braid half-knot over her right shoulder. She looked peaceful in deep slumber. He watched her chest rise and fall . The covers were greatly disturbed, an indication that her resting was not always so peaceful.
A book was open facedown on her night stand, next to a glass of water. In the corner was a small cupboard filled with a few jars of potions ingredients, flowers and herbs.
He hadn't seen her very often, only two months ago at Headquarters, but knew he might see more of her soon as recent potions experiments were leading him toward more highly regulated and controlled substances, only to be procured through the Ministry of Magic, and from her office Department of Controlled Magical Substances and likewise her subdepartment- Potions. He had recommended her highly to the post years ago. She hadn't needed it, the Imperial College degree in Beijing cinched her appointment.
Hermione had been a diligent researcher since her studies ended. Well, her studies never really ended which is why she was such an admirable student and colleague. They communicated secretly via anonymous owls with various questions and hypotheses. She had collaborated with him on a cure for lycanthropy, but hadn't had time to return to Hogwarts in over a year to continue the work. She would help him.
She must have been twenty-two now, but didn't seem it. With a face that wore an expression of responsibility, age was meaningless. She had looked weary despite happiness at her graduation from Hogwarts. Of course that was contributed to by her lack of sleep. It was sad to think that she still struggled with it, Potter had hinted at. Certainly potions can help, but they were addictive and were poor substitutes for a natural restful sleep, especially on a regular basis..
She and Potter had been quite close in school, and he hadn't thought to question what appeared a falling out. He (as many others had) assumed that Hermione and Harry, with the passage of time and new responsibility had just drifted apart, like many schoolmates do. Stupid really, that didn't sound like Harry or Hermione at all. The present-day Marauders were just as ever, the best of friends, and the pair that were Harry and Hermione shared secrets all their own strengthening their friendship even more.
Harry knew about her visions, and Snape wondered over the years if she had been able to control them better. Her gifts greatly disrupted her schooling the last year at Hogwarts, though her grades managed to stay at their superior level. He had hoped, as did Albus Dumbledore and Harry, that her visions would help them to identify the more specific details of Voldemort's defeat.
But she refused quoting, "The future is not set. We have no fate but what we make it." Harry had later pointed out to them that this lame line was from a Muggle movie, but Hermione was completely serious. She feared if she were to reveal details of things she did not yet understand the significance of herself, that in changing them an even worse outcome might present itself. She believed in the order and balance of things, and each persons self-efficacy, their ability to make decisions as time passed.
Hermione began to turn. A groan. "No," she muttered. "No." Again more urgently. She shook her head from side to side and her brow furrowed. She shuddered, took a deep breath and rested again.
What is she dreaming?
Hermione saw his figure like so many times before, in the mist and fog, far from her. White surrounded her and as she glided towards the figure the contrasts of light an dark helped him to come into focus. She longed to see him again. His black silky hair framed his features, hinting at broad and muscular shoulders underneath his cloak. The wind blew it and she could hear it whip in the wind, a welcome sound. As she approached, he turned to face her, not recognizing her at first, but perhaps only it was a lack of surprise, and familiarity. He reached for her face and she leaned in, closing her lids. He seemed so near… she could almost touch him. She reached out to stroke his temple and brush away some hair from his handsome face.
Severus touched the side of his face.
Immediately, the dream changed to the harsh nightmare. He was a bloody mess sunk into the wet ground in the Dark Forest. His robes were torn and rumpled around him. Blood everywhere, deep gashes littered his cloak, he was pale and weak, unconscious. She was terrified as she ran. She kept running. Her face was hot as she cried-- she was farther and farther away, she kept running for what seemed like an eternity. She struggled mentally to get to her destination. I can save him. She crumpled to her feet and finally touching his face, threw back her head, screamed and wept.
"Severus!"
"Severus!" She cried aloud, clutching her heart as she sat straight up in her bed. She was finally awake, exhausted and cursing herself for the repetitive dream that haunted her. It added nothing to her previous knowledge base. In a fit of anger she grabbed the dream diary off of her bedside table and flung it across the room. It landed with a unsatisfying soft thud in the corner. She pressed the backs of her hands to her eyes and her body began to shake as she cried. "Oh, Severus. Oh, God." She sobbed a whisper.
He flinched in his chair hearing her say his name in a panicked cry and then in a whisper. He never knew it could sound like that. What happened? Did she know he was there?
She quickly drew a breath and swallowed her sadness. "Damn it! I'm so sick of this!"
Hermione threw off the covers and swung her legs over the right side of her bed and reached for the water. She still was trembling as she vainly attempted to steady the glass to her lips. She put it back down on the table without drinking it, and stifled a sob. She focused on her breathing. She wiped her face with her hands.
She walked to the door of her bedroom where there were small knifes mounted on the wall. She grabbed three, waved her hand, and a door on the opposite side of the wall swiveled around to reveal a board. She threw three knifes in quick succession throwing every ounce of frustration with it. She hit the board with deadly accuracy. Her expression was venomous.
It was frightening sight, this. Hermione looked a delicate creature. When she awoke he stifled the urge to go to her, to comfort her. He remained still, listening, watching, sorrowful for her. Is it like this every night? What did she see? She's sick of this? Does she keep having the same visions over and over again? At first, he thought she must have dreamed that she had seen him do some horrible and unspeakable act as was possible in his line of work with the Death Eaters. Then he saw she cried out his name not for shock or anger but fear and sorrow. What had she seen? And how would she respond when she found out he had been standing here the whole time invading her most private moments?
She wore a gauzy nightgown of multiple layers. It was simply adorned with lace and pearls at the neckline and the robe that covered it was sheer and open to the front. She looked beautiful in her fury—a shocking contrast to her ethereal nightwear. She could have been an angel, a fairy, a goddess from a work of art. He noted her beauty privately before, and had at times felt his feelings for her deepen somewhat, but he threw them aside long ago, knowing he could not engage in such an attempt. She was a former student, and he had little companionship. It was no wonder he had become close with her, closer than many had, during their work on the lycanthropy cure. Her letters had extended their work beyond her graduation. He was a loner, and she was one of the few people who came to understand him somewhat, appreciate his habits, identify with his work style, honor his preferences, accept his idiosyncrasies, and smile in the face of his sarcastic wit and bitter exterior.
Her brown-blonde hair threatened to come loose. 'It's much longer than it had been,' he thought. It was beautiful the way the tendrils wove in an out of each other. You couldn't tell where one strand of hair began and one ended. It appeared tangled, but purposefully so.
The phone rang and Hermione strode to the bedside again, sitting on the edge of the bed as she picked up the receiver. Snape didn't know why he found this unusual. Hermione obviously was trying to blend her life into one resembling a Muggle, why wouldn't she drape one leg over each side of the fence?
"What." She answered the phone harshly. But that's because she knew who would be calling at 4am in the morning.
"I knew you were up."
"Jacob, it had to be you. I hate it when you're right. Make it fast, I want to get back to sleep." She said with a yawn.
"Sorry, You want to go dancing tomorrow night?" He asked. "in honor of your birthday," he added.
" I probably don't have enough energy for that but I'll think about it. My birthday's not until next week though."
"Yeah, but I'm gonna be out of town. Girl, you need to get out more. Why won't you let me hook you up?"
"I'm not going to have the dating conversation with you right now." She sighed. "I don't want to be setup. My life is complicated as it is." She spoke in a rehearsed monotone. They'd had this conversation before.
"Sing to me, do something to help me sleep."
"Nah, girl. Just put in some Sting or something. Come on… promise."
She put up a weak hand, "I promise."
"G'night."
She hung up, headed for the bedroom door, and picked up a remote from the small table below the knife shrine and aimed it into the next room. Snape was fascinated. The stereo in the next room came on, and she fast forwarded through several albums until she selected. The violins began their slow quiet serenade as she placed the device back down on the table. She sat cross-legged on the rug, much like the ones from their classes at school, and she draped her wrists over her knees and took a breath.
A Thousand years, a thousand more, a thousand times a million doors to eternity…
As she relaxed her mind with closed eyes, she felt outward after only a minute and opened her eyes. She waited a moment, and Severus knew he had been caught.
"Show yourself." He didn't budge, and she grabbed ahead to pull the invisibility cloak off of him. They regarded one another. She poked a tongue in her left cheek and gave him an reproving look.
"Hermione, I just didn't want to startle you," he said truthfully.
She looked totally not surprised. "You look tired." She said with some concern.
"Give me a break. You're quite a role model," he said with a sweet sarcasm.
She climbed top her feet and smoothed her gown, as if it were a repetitive habit she was unaware of.
"Let's get some coffee. I have 4 hours before I have to go to work."
"You know, tomorrow, well—today, is Saturday." Snape offered.
"God, that's a relief. It's sad I don't even recognize days of the week anymore." She took the cloak and folded it, gestured for him to follow her to the den. She lit the electric lamp standing over the couch which illuminated the dark room warmly. She room was cool, and it appeared she preferred it that way, as he had grown accustomed to in his dungeons.
"Would you like tea instead?" She asked. It's a little early for coffee, I think."
"Anything you make will be fine, so long as it's hot." He looked around again, examining the book stacks, a comfy home in each one. The classics, feminist works, an excellent selection of plays and 20th Century fiction. The wizarding texts must be elsewhere. "Your apartment is charming."
"Thank you." It was sparse, clean and not overcrowded with rubbish and collectibles. Hermione was a practical woman. "This isn't all of it, of course." She looked up at him. "But I can give you a full tour later." She didn't ask why he was there.
Wow, a compliment from Severus. He's here so much earlier than I thought. She hoped he couldn't feel any tension from her. She stiffened a bit." I'll be right back." She disappeared in to the bedroom and brought back several small jars and a teapot from the room.
Lavender, chamomile, dried fruits, exotic green and black teas, other herbs. She took a spoon from the kitchen and a small porcelain bowl. Still a touch shaky, he noticed a fine tremor in her hand, which could have been from lack of sleep, but he doubted it. He bit his tongue and watched in silence as he studied her practiced method of creating a balanced tea. She was putting a large amount in the bowl, one or two spoons from each container of tea and lesser amounts from the fruits and flowers.
It's an intimate thing, tea making, she thought. She was glad she could privately share this with him and hoped Harry wouldn't return too soon so they could enjoy some private company. There were many ceremonies where tea has been used, particularly in courtship. And while Snape wasn't aware of her feelings on this matter, she was and that made this act more important to her. She measured carefully and deliberately.
She drew her wand and pointing it at the bowl quietly made a sound like wind from her lips. She didn't notice his expression. I didn't teach that in potions… The fruits, flowers and tea whirled together in the bowl mixing them completely and settled. She took the spoon and measured the tea into the infuser in front of them. The beautiful pot was a jade green, loved from use, a traditional Chinese pot, but larger than usual. She poured from another kettle that appeared constantly available for use, a bottomless pot of hot water.
He stared at her as they waited for the tea to brew. He was about to break the silence when she asked, "When did you get here?"
About two hours ago, he thought. But knowing what she was really getting at, "Long enough to see you're still having difficulty sleeping. May I ask…"he left the rest unsaid. May I ask about your dream? Tell me.
Her face flushed remembering both parts of her dream, feeling he could see through her. "I'm sorry, of course you'd be curious. I'm sorry if I startled you." Her eyes watered as she looked at him meaningfully. She broke contact and began to pour the tea into two small cups without handles. They matched the pot. She picked up his cup and handed it to him. He took it, nodding his thanks and she picked up hers beginning to blow and sip.
She took a breath and looked at the face of her dream. "I've been worried about you, Severus." He didn't balk at her dropping the honorific. That had changed since her graduation.
She blinked back tears which did not fall. "I can't specify what happens in the dream because I never get enough information to make it a useful one. Y-you…you're hurt, and I don't know how to help you. That's it, that's the dream. I'm sorry. I know that's not what you wanted to hear." Her works cracked a little. Her face showed signs of sorrow again. It was a skeleton of the actual dream at best. The rest was too frightening to speak aloud.
"Hermione, stop apologizing. I know that you'd tell me if you could," he said warmly. His voice had a deep timbre, a slow deep drawl she felt resonate within her, hypnotic and peaceful. He watched her close her eyes and breath in her tea. A moment passed. "This is a delicious blend of tea. You've carried over your talents from potion making I see."
"Thank you. I finally stopped bruising my tea leaves once I left to study in Beijing…." She opened up and then closed off immediately. He noticed, and let her decide what she wanted to share. "There's so much I want to tell you," she began, setting the cup on the table and looking at him carefully. His eyes narrowed and paid rapt attention, surprised at her choice of words. "But not now, Harry will be here soon, and this won't be a short conversation."
She knew Harry had brought him here. Did anything escape her attention now? "Well then, might I suggest dinner?" She looked surprised. "Next Friday, in celebration of your birthday?"
She visibly relaxed and gave a laugh, "Oh you heard that did you?" She felt a little embarrassed about her dating banter with Jake. "Thanks, I'd love to." One of her previous dreams came to mind. It's happening. Things were unfolding. She could hardly believe it. I've waited an eternity for this, knowing that wasn't actually true. Don't push. "What did you have in mind?" She smiled a little smile.
"How about Antone's on McCue? Have you been there?" He was amazed as his own offer, it slipped from his lips before he could edit it. Grumple and Malfoy are after her and you're making dinner plans…
Wow, so quiet, romantic. "No, I've never been, but I hear the food is incredible. I love Italian." I was a modest place run by a small family. It was made popular because the authenticity of the food was amazing. The quaint restaurant had many small rooms, which made it less noisy and only held a few guests every evening. The fare used to be inexpensive and plentiful, but over the years the restaurant had become so noteworthy that reservations were a struggle and prices had risen accordingly.
"Good, then it's settled. Is seven ok for you?"
"Hmmm," she nodded. "I'm relived I have somewhere to go. It's strange going out, I've been a recluse for months working on my latest project. Jake, the man who called me earlier, was trying to coax me out."
Snape was deeply surprised, he thought she was a sociable one and not one to isolate herself. But times had been difficult. It wearied him to think she was losing her young years to the same cause that plagued him and so many others twenty years before. Things had changed, and they had remained the same.
"I wish I could encourage you to go, but after what Harry and I have to say, you may not chose to abandon your previous strategy of staying at home so quickly."
Just as he said that Harry apparated inside the flat, out of breath.
Hermione knew immediately.
Harry was frantic. "Ginny's in trouble. I can't find her anywhere!"
Severus quieted, noticing their interaction.
"I know," she said quietly. She thought briefly. She seemed much more awake, deep in concentration. "Harry, do you trust me?"
"Yes, of course I do!" He was upset, not calm. "Help me." Desperation.
"Harry, relax." It was an absurd statement. "I need you to relax." She enunciated each syllable, drawing the 'x' sound out. By saying that in the way she did, looking at him seriously, he visibly did relax. She stood and walked over to him. She put her arms on his shoulders and brought him down to the floor where they sat opposite each other cross-legged. "Do you love her?" She asked in a whisper.
Harry was shocked, "What?"
"Do you love her! Do you? It's important!" She raised her voice. She was insistent.
"Yes, Hermione. So much..." He had never told anyone.
"Good." She looked into his green eyes a long moment. "Do you have something personal of hers?" He lifted a necklace over his head and handed it to her. It contained a locket of hair. "Don't react, Harry. Don't disapparate right away. Let me give you everything you need to know. Promise me." He nodded. Snape was entranced by the exchange, what was she planning? She clutched the keepsake between the fingers of her left hand. She put her right hand over Harry's heart, closed her eyes and focused on the beating of it. He relaxed. "Think of Ginny, Harry. How much you love her. Nothing else."
Harry breathed deeply, 'a locating spell?' he thought as he heard Hermione's voice mutter though his own mind.
"I see…" She spoke out loud in Harry's mind and like her previous reading, her voice echoed in the room without her lips moving. Snape was astonished. Hermione spoke quickly, "She's crouched near an alley, her back against the stone. There are 7 men, no less, following her, hunting her." She felt Harry pull away but she grabbed him at his shirt. "Harry, when you apparate just get her out as quickly as you can, Malfoy is coming. If you stay to fight whomever is there, Ginny will be captured. If Malfoy gets her… we'll never see Ginny again." She continued, she felt Harry was impatient to leave, and Snape saw it in the boy's movements. "The first spell you will say is 'Expelliarmus' to the man in the charcoal suit across the street. He's no Muggle. Avoid the Death Eater from your left with a 'Stupefy'. Grab Ginny back a few feet in the alleyway and apparate back here immediately." She felt his internal conflict. She opened her eyes ending the session and grabbing Harry's shoulder's shook him. "Do not! –go after Malfoy. He's all mine." Her eyes narrowed with deadly conviction. She knew it would happen this way. Harry drew his wand and dissapparated.
Snape watched her interlock her fingers in a small prayer. Half a minute later, an angry Harry and frightened disheveled Ginny were in a pile on the floor in front of her.
Harry was holding her in his arms tightly, she with a furious but relieved look on her face finding herself in safety. "Oh God, I thought I lost you," Harry whispered in her ear, oblivious to anyone else in the room. Ginny just breathed, glad to be alive.
Hermione retrieved two white mugs from the kitchen, quickly filling them with tea from the pot, and removing a small vial from a drawer in the table, withdrew the dropper filling it with a thin watery liquid. Snape eyed it and identified it to himself as a calming drought. She placed one drop in Harry's cup and two in Ginny's. She wondered to herself if it should be the other way round. She walked to the couple who came to there feet and accepted the tea, drinking heartily. She gestured to the couch, but Harry wouldn't sit.
"Hermione, you can't go after him. I won't let you." Harry's voice was commanding.
"Go after who?" Ginny asked cautiously.
"I didn't ask your blessing, Harry. I assure you I am quite capable of handing it." A stern but even response. Hermione's voice was as calm as she could make it.
"He's obsessed with you. Malfoy!….come on Hermione. He was going to rape you like Rose! Isn't that what you said?! He almost got Ginny, what the hell is wrong with you?" Harry had totally flipped.
Severus looked seriously at Hermione as he processed what must have been a long argument over the years.
"Harry, I understand you're concerned about me, but I'm sick of hiding. Did I tell you he saw me at the Ministry last week? He knows where I work now. He keeps heading the direction of the department to make up some reason to be there. Did you know I've been brewing at a different location just to stay out of the ministry since then? Harry, you're the only wizard I see outside of work." Harry just stared at her in awe.
"I have few friends, no life, and feel pretty cut off. I hate him for doing that to me." She bit the words off. "I let him do that to me. No more. Now Lucius is going to be the hunted, not the other way around. This isn't negotiable, and there's no democracy in this flat." She sighed. "Ginny, I'm so glad you're safe." She hugged her dear friend. She was sorry she hadn't taught her more about elemental magic prior to this confrontation. "Harry, I know that you and Severus were probably planning to tell me more about Death Eaters and the plots of Lucius Malfoy, but he can fill me in later. You need to take Ginny to the Headquarters."
"I thought we could go to a safe house." Ginny suggested and Harry agreed. She knew Harry avoided 12 Grimmauld Place since Sirius' death.
"I know you don't like the locale, but it's Unplottable. I think it's as close to safe as Hogwarts and permits you far more privacy."
"I guess there's no convincing you," Harry said quietly. He stood and walked forward holding Hermione's shoulders at arms length.
"Nope."
"I can't talk you out of anything." And he pulled her into an embrace kissing her cheek.
Snape noticed the intimate interaction between them was more than friendship, a deep sense of caring and quiet understanding. Ginny was still concerned for her friend and stood to disapparate with Harry. Harry looked at Snape before he left as if to say, Protect her.
Hermione shook her head. She refilled the teapot to brew again.
"Well, I guess it's time for you to fill me in." She sighed. But she knew the professorial lecture was coming.
"I must tell you Hermione, I can't stress to you how vile and dangerous a creature Malfoy is. You of all people should know better than to go looking for trouble. I'd like to think I know him better than anyone. He's the devil." He voice shook a bit when he said this and his eyes were piercing. "You're right. I came to Harry after Lucius had a particularly vivid description of what he wanted to do with you. It was at one of his 'parties' and he had quite a bit to drink. His tongue was loose, I doubt he remembers speaking to me about it."
"You don't have to go all graphic on me with the details." She looked at the dark visage of her guest. It was hard to look at him and tell him these things. Hardly the topics she wanted to discuss. But she wanted to put his mind at ease and felt she couldn't, no matter what she said. "My worst visions ever were some of my first ones. They were horrible…" Her voice cracked on the words.
"Rose."
"Rose."
"You knew every curse. Every hex that night in the infirmary."
"I studied the dream well, I was preparing for my own defense."
It dawned on him then what she meant. The hexes, the potions. He wasn't after Rose. Oh Gods, Hermione…
"Did you notice, " she continued, "that Rose had been wearing the same dress as I did to the Yule Ball? We both wore our hair up, and were about the same height, the same fair skin. I didn't notice until later, then I understood. I was extra careful at the Ball, and I wanted to make sure I went so that I was in a crowd. I didn't know her well, didn't see Rose slip out and it didn't occur tome that Lucius would grab her instead." Hermione's voice sounded hollow as she stared vacantly at her cup. "I had prepared for weeks. I've been prepared for seven years. I wanted to avenge Rose then, but my rage was out of control. Meditation got so much harder then."
"You spent two weeks yourself in the infirmary as I recall. I thought it was from overwork."
"What I was… was a nervous wreck. He was horrible. Bastard." Her voice was a dead whisper. "I knew about torture and read quite a bit but it really can't possibly desensitize you enough to bear the shock of it. I saw everything, every night, several times a week. I brewed sleeping potions, and missed classes. I placed the burden on myself for what happened to Rose, thinking I could've prevented it."
"I've always regretted, Hermione... I really wasn't very sympathetic to you then." He was sorry. His brutal teaching style and criticism had broken Hermione's spirit the day she collapsed and went to the infirmary. And as he wasn't one for apologies, that was difficult to say.
Sensing his thoughts, as on the surface of water she replied, "It wasn't your fault. I was well on my way to Madame Poppy's long before class that day."
He looked up quickly his mouth open in half-surprise. You're reading my mind? He didn't speak it.
"Severus, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. I don't purposefully read thoughts. They are yours and they are private. Your feelings and memories about those events were.... how should I say… on the tip of your tongue?"
"How long have you been able to do this? And with Harry before, how did you find Ginny?" His voice at first was stern and then relaxed.
"Now we are pushing into the long talk we need to have. My first visions were of course that summer that we began the meditation and Occlumency. Truly I think those lessons were the only things that kept me sane the last two years at Hogwarts."
"Really? I thought that after a while they weren't as helpful as you thought?" He still sounded disappointed.
"Seriously. I couldn't have made it. I started reading thoughts later after the infirmary episode. Harry and Ron were arguing. You know how you don't say everything on your mind when you talk to someone but your mind is just screaming it? It was too much. It sounded like chatter, then I tried to block it out like reverse Occlumency and it got worse. I was in the Great Hall. Can you imagine, so noisy, full of students? Emotions high all the time? I started spending more and more time away from crowds after that. Thank God it was the holidays. I lied to you when I said I needed a break because I was tired. I mean, I was tired, just....I knew you were trying to break into my thoughts, I just wasn't in control and knew you wouldn't appreciate me breaking into yours without even trying."
"Then you came back after the holiday and made a breakthrough. You were a total blank. I couldn't believe you didn't even flinch. It seemed unnatural."
"Once I could clear my mind, I could make other people blank to me. It was a relief. Reading surface feelings took a long time to develop well after that, but I was cautious when doing it. It gets easy to cheat in conversations with people. I'm sure I could've developed more control in mind reading, but I think it's unethical. And like visions, they can be inaccurate reflections of what one would actually say or do. It's deceptive really to pretend to know someone well enough after only a glimpse of what I've seen."
"And did you 'glimpse' me, Miss Granger?" Some of his defensive tone had returned, more of the Snape she knew.
"Unfortunately, yes." Snape's face started to harden as she explained. "It wasn't intentional. You had yelled at Harry in class for something stupid. He had snuck out the night before and didn't get caught, but you wanted to punish him anyway. You were furious. I felt rage radiate off of you like an invisible wave. Then all of your memories of the previous nights activities, one of the Death Eater meetings, started pouring out. I saw Malfoy bragging to all of you, bragging about the torture of Rose. I couldn't take anymore, and I was embarrassed to see your memories so I ran out."
"And Harry followed you."
"He knew what had happened. He came to Obliviate those memories."
"That's a terribly dangerous business!" He scolded. He put down his tea and sat up in his chair. How many times did she have Harry use memory charms on her?
"It's also terribly dangerous to know all kinds of secrets and passwords and plots! My brain just couldn't process all of that information all at once."
"You had far more responsibilities on your shoulders than I thought. And Ginny Weasley? How did you find her?"
"Ah. I know this is going to sound trite, but I had an experience a long while ago touching an object that was important to someone and the felt connected to that person. I could've drawn memories from it if I had wished. I started playing with that idea feeling that might be in some ways more valuable than interpreting my dreams. I took Harry's locket of Ginny's hair and focused on it, and used Harry's heart….his strongest feelings for Ginny as a compass to find her. I cast a location spell and voila. There you have it."
"You're a mysterious one, Miss Granger."
"I'm not the only one. And stop calling me Miss Granger."
"You're an enigma." He repeated his taunt.
"An enigma with a date next Friday." She smiled. And changed the subject before he could object to her classification of their dinner as a date, "Time for the tour."
"I received your last owl saying you were needing some more shall we say— 'exotic' ingredients? If we check them out of the ministry," she flipped on the light switch in her bedroom, "it will be noticed." "I've been collecting my own stores for sometime, and Harry, with the Auror privileges that he has, permits me to confiscate a few of the more hazardous ingredients from time to time. Some of those I don't even trust in the Ministry's hands." He approved of the very Slytherin manner in which she had justified her acquisition and use of such items.
She walked to the right of the knife board, and he gestured to it with an inquisitive glare.
"Hobby." She said flippantly.
Hobby my arse. Those knives might as well be stuck in Malfoy's head.
"Besame Mucho." Hermione said to the bookcase, and it opened to reveal the lab.
Kiss me? What's the motivation for that password? "Interesting choice of ward."
"I like it, and password or no, no one's getting in here."
"I hate to point out the flaw in your logic, but I am here." He said this with an amused sneer. All in good fun.
"Of course. You have permission. The wards have been set already to accept you." He looked taken aback at her comment. He hadn't seen her change them to admit him. She had already given me access? This," she said with a grand gesture, "is my secret lair." She chuckled.
"I have permission?" Why? "How did you know that I'd need…oh, forget I asked." He laughed. A little.
"It's my lab, Severus, my secret lab. The Ministry thinks I'm probably in Dublin somewhere in an undisclosed section of some commercial laboratory. They didn't ask, and I wasn't telling. It's much more convenient at home. It's more practical. I can't let you take the ingredients to Hogwarts, that's too dangerous. You can feel free to come and go as you like. There are three rooms on ingredients, it's obvious I keep some of them apart because there are volatile ones, some magnetic, and some downright explosive." It was stupid her lecturing him, he was the seasoned Potions Master, not her. "Keys to the locked cabinets are here on the wall."
She's trusting me with a lot. Snape looked around the massive room. In no way was this an economy flat. He wondered how she could afford it. The wall was lined with cauldrons of various metals, thicknesses, and sizes. There was a dry erase board on the far wall filled with figures, formulas, and plans. It seems she had kept up her research into the cure for vampirism based off of the work of the lycanthropy cure. Impressive.
"You can Apparate into the flat, just not straight into the lab."
"What? Only two people can Apparate into your flat, Harry said."
"Yes. You're the other one of two. Harry doesn't know. I didn't tell him."
He paused. surprised again at her answer. Why wouldn't she tell Harry?
"I know," she said, "I'm an enigma."
"You're trusting me with a great deal. I'm surprised at you. I thought some of my paranoia and secretivity had been rubbing off on you."
"Believe me, it has. And you are worthy of my trust. That's why you and Harry are the only ones who know where my flat is."
"I'm a Death Eater." He was tense. The information could be extracted from him.
"Former Death Eater. You won't tell them. And woe to anyone who dares to come here. They will be in for a rude awakening." Hermione was quite serious. He didn't doubt it.
"There's a bathroom off the kitchen, and in an emergency there's a large bathtub in the bath off to the right of the bed." In an emergency, a potion explosion emergency. He hoped there wouldn't be a cause for that. "Make yourself at home. I need to get dressed, I have a lot to do today." And with that she strode out of the lab.
The bookcase was still ajar, and Snape could hear her make the phone call.
H: "Jake!"
J: "Yo, cherie! S'too early for you to be calling me girl." His voice was gravelly.
H: "Serves you right for calling me at that ungodly hour. Hey, I'm in."
J: "Whatdaya mean your in, for tonight? You mean dancing?"
H: "Yes, I can leave here at nine. The clubs don't really swing up until then."
J: "Where do you have in mind birthday girl?"
H: "I dunno, Latin, R&B? What's your flavor?"
What's your flavor? Hermione sounded totally different than he remembered.
J: "Girl, it's your birthday. Let's do R&B, then Megan will be sure to come with. Will you wear the dress?"
H: "What dress?
J: "That sexy black one you bought last week."
H: "Oh, that one. Nah, I'm saving it." She flushed a bit. He can't hear the other side of the conversation Hermione.
J: "Oooh. Saving it for who? Come on, dish girl. If you don't tell me who then I'm going togive you such a hard time tonight. I've been trying to set you up for ages!"
H: "Then I guess you going to be giving me hell about it. I'll probably wear the red one."
J: "That's good too. You sure I can't bring you a date?"
H: "No Jake." She said firmly, "No blind dates, besides I may have to slip out after a few hours."
J: "You're not slipping off to see someone are you?"
H: "It's not like that and not voluntarily no."
J: "You're not working in the middle of the night are you? God Herm, I know you've pulled late hours and all but this is ridiculous!"
H: "Jake, I'm not leaving to go work. I give up. I'll see you tonight.
J: "Bye chickpea."
Jake had a million nicknames for Hermione and she loved it. They had been close since her teen years and he knew things about her that Ron and Harry didn't. The Muggle Hermione. They hung out, and talked and celebrated birthdays during the summer in advance of their real ones. He danced professionally. He had taught her quite a bit one summer, and they had been tight ever since. Nothing romantic. It wasn't possible for her anyway.
Snape tried to pay attention to the layout of the lab, but he felt the thoughts creep into his mind. She's going to wear a red dress to a club. He couldn't picture it. But he was trying to.
She grabbed a change of clothes from the dresser drawer across from the bookcase entrance and he saw her out of the corner of his eye. She crossed over into the bathroom. Her gauzy nightgown trailed behind her and the light coming through the window made her nightgown more transparent. She was too quick for his eye. Thoughts came to his mind that he had suppressed over the years and he tried to regain his composure.
He heard the water begin running, and he wandered into the rooms where ingredients were kept starting with the one the left. It was locked of course, and he turned to take one of the keys from the chest on the wall. As he reached for the knob he felt a magical barrier, and as he drew he hand back it swung open recognizing him. The bookcase slammed shut. He was dumbfounded. There were wards on everything. Damn, how long did it take her to charm this place? He remembered her words, "And woe to anyone who dares to come here." Woe, indeed. A brilliant and scary witch lived here. Brilliant, but scary.
He felt the pressure again as he approached the left door and he hesitated, then the barrier released him and allowed him to the door. He turned the skeleton key and it opened. Gods. This must be the rarest collection of ingredients I've ever seen. He had a few of these in his private stores, precious few, but most of these were illegal at best. Much of it was considered dark magic. No wonder she wouldn't let it leave her flat. He would bet all the gold in Gringotts that the lab certainly wouldn't have permitted him to leave with any of these ingredients. He figured these were some of the spoils of the raids of the MOM that Harry permitted her to claim. Hermione had actually taught Harry quite a bit about dangerous potions and illegal substances, Harry had told him once, but he didn't know the context until now. He scanned the bottles. Some of them appeared unmarked but as he gaze rested on each bottle, faint writing began to appear in magic ink. Wards on top of wards. If someone dared to get this far and attempted to open a jar carelessly without knowing the contents, they could die instantly.
A large sectioned jar full of Dragon's eyes, The skin of a Basilisk, Phoenix tears, Dodo bird feathers. Scales of the Lockness Monster. They're extinct! A sharp intake of breath. His eyes enlarged. Dragon heartstring. And in German, how odd…Das Blut Die Vampir: Vlad Tepes und Vlad Drucul, Blut Die Volkodlak.*** Blood of, no. No! The Blood of Dracula?! Should've been in Russian…shouldn't be here at all! Hermione, what are you into? He ran his hands through his hair, he was sweating. He realized the door to the large store closet had closed behind him for security reasons. He assumed people generally didn't spread this much time perusing the stores. He shook his head and exited the door. It closed behind him and heard a click.
Snape approached the cabinet of keys again, but this time he didn't feel it push against him. It swung open at his wish and he returned the key for another. There was a most beautiful key. It looked made of spun gold, and the face of the handle was engraved with runes. He fingered it, and when he picked it up it grew so hot he could barely touch it. It glowed and subsided finally. The runes almost burned an impression into his skin. A light glowed underneath the second door and he took that key as well.
He approached the door and it allowed him to turn the key into the handle. When he opened the door, the corridor revealed was long, and what light was present before had vanished. He clicked on the light from the string overhead. How archaic. The ingredients in this room were far more ordinary, though all were popular ingredients in potion making and they were in larger vats and quantities.
At the end of the narrow closet was what interested him. As he neared the small cabinet the key began to vibrate. He felt the strongest ward yet. Should I proceed? He had access but he still felt like a guest. But his Slytherin curiosities got the best of him, and he proceeded. The air around him pushed firmly against him and wisely, he did not push back. After what seemed like minutes, it finally allowed him to pass. There was a crest on the door which he did not recognize. The wood was old and bound in brass like a trunk. The key fit neatly into the hole and he heard a series of clicks.
"It won't let you in." She said.
He nearly jumped a foot. "Hermione!" You scared me half to death.
She never saw him so startled, and she was proud of it. "I'm glad I could oblige, as you have already half scared me and every student for a generation out of their skins. Curious?"
"Terribly. I can't begin to imagine how you came upon all of this."
"Like I said, it's a long story. I could let you in the cabinet now or…you could wait until next weekend. Currently, that one will only respond to me." She was teasing him. She knew his patience was a bit thin when it came to potions.
Now, now ... "Oh, I'll wait. I'd like to discuss your experiments further of course."
Oh, NOW you want to hear and support me, thanks. "Of course, now that you've seen some of the substances at my disposal, you'll see why I might be a bit more optimistic than you have been about the progress in releasing a vampires from the curse of blood thirst and immortality?"
"If they want to be "cured" as you say." He resumed his former skepticism of the practicality of such research.
"You'd be surprised. I'm going out soon, and wanted to know if you'd like some breakfast. I make killer waffles." Oh God, you're already cooking for him? Don't put the cart before the horse girl.
She was too dramatic. He imagined waffles with teeth. "Yes, thank you. I must return to Hogwarts soon, I'd like to bring the lycanthropy project here if you don't mind."
"No, no, not at all. I expected you'd need to. You won't be able to remove the ingredients you need and take them there."
I knew it. Snape congratulated himself. They exited the corridor and the door close behind them. He was regretting his decision to save the mysterious cabinet until later. But it would wait. He returned the keys, and was secretly pleased with how the door again swung open for him. I wonder if Hermione is as receptive. He stiffened immediately, remembering Hermione's surface emotions technique but she took no notice. He tried to remember what she said about the principles of it and relaxed.
She wore old, well-worn jeans and a comfortable v-neck t-shirt, like she had that summer seven years ago. Gods, I remember that? He imagined her curling up in a chair in her room surrounded by tomes and her research. It seemed to fit.
"So you'll need a work space." The room was vast, but as Hermione tapped her foot on the floor to the right of key cabinet a proper workstation emerged from the floor complete with drawers and a slick stone tabletop. "Keep exploring, I'll whip us up some breakfast."
She is beautiful in the morning. Not a trace of make-up yet, not that she needs any. She towel dried her locks on the way out. Graceful even in ordinary ways.
After he finished exploring the third closet and his new workstation he exited the lab. The bookcase closed and there found a library not unlike his own (though much fewer volumes were present.) A subscription to Ars Alchema and other Journals were present. Where she had run out of shelf space, he located a small stack of books under the chair he was previously sitting in. The bed was made, and the bathroom door slightly ajar revealing a white and serene sanctuary not unlike one of the Hogwarts' Prefect bathrooms.
He heard her in the kitchen, already making the first of four waffles. The Muggle way. He was fascinated, as many, no, most families resorted to magical cuisine and he appreciated her extra efforts however commonplace they may have been to her. She looked up and acknowledged him, "Now are you ready for coffee?"
"I suppose you're a fellow caffeine addict? Something has to keep you standing." He was really laying on the sarcasm now. Something he hadn't done too much earlier. Great, now he was scolding her. "How much sleep are you getting?"
Sigh. "It varies, usually 4 hours. Sometimes I sleep through the night, usually I keep myself awake reading and researching, not waking up in a sweat. And yes, caffeine loves me too."
She turned to grab her own mug by the sink and noticed how she had her hair arranged. Wavy and well controlled, unlike her younger vicious tresses, it was swept up on the back of her head in curls. A formal style, somehow made casual.
"Here," she said handing him steaming mug. "I assumed you take cream and sugar? I always thought you'd prefer it black, to match your wardrobe," she gave her eyes a roll and glared at him with a smile, "but I liked the irony of it."
He smirked. Good guess. "I've always had it this way." He drank. "I'm tasting cinnamon?"
She grinned. "I like flavored coffees, it's Mexican Pecan from a coffee shop up the street."
They ate in silence over their coffee and Belgian waffles. She was a very good cook, and he wondered what she couldn't do.
She placed her plate in the sink, and grabbed her purse, waving to him as she left the flat.
"Thank you for breakfast, it was delicious. You're not disapparating?" Surely that would be the best way to travel.
She winced a bit at this. "Actually, I'm not able to apparate. Not yet anyway. Would rather not 'splinch myself. My fireplace is not connected to the Floo Network for obvious reasons. Gotta run. Bye, Severus." She smiled at him on her way out, and he felt immediately lighter.
Can't apparate? Most students got their licenses at 17. That would make almost anything he could think of difficult. Especially flight from Malfoy. No wonder she took a cab at the Playhouse. She left before he could inquire further and appeared to trust him enough to remain alone in her apartment.
He satin the oak chair, stunned. His life in a matter of hours had seemed to have turned on it's heel. It seemed now that an opportunity appeared with Hermione that he had previously discarded. No blind dates? Her life is too complicated already. I'm as complicated as they get. You don't have a chance.
Author's Notes (please read each chapter before skipping here, it may give something away):
"The future is not set. We have no fate but what we make but what we make," is of course a quote from Sarah Connor in Terminator.
The musical quote, and there will be several, is from Sting's: Brand New Day album and it's called "A Thousand Years."
*** I apologize profusely to you vampire fans. This is largely made-up, largely, ha. This is all made up, though I did attempt to reference some vampire lore. I found, this website fascinating www.vampires.com and have completely changed the definition for Leanhaum-shee for the purposes of the story. That reference will be in an upcoming chapter.