No Regrets
Hermione awoke in a strange bed, the sheets twisted in a tangled mess around her and the duvet half hanging off it. She was still dressed in her robes and on instinct, she delved into her pockets, only to find her wand was missing. In panic, she shot up, the situation suddenly springing on her like a childhood monster hiding under the bed. Her eyes frantically darted around the dark room, lit only by a small candle, and suddenly fell upon her wand, lying peacefully on the glass top of the bedside table.
Once it was in her hand, a security blanket as such, Hermione now had the mind to think about where she was. The night before was a blur. She remembered trudging tiredly across the field as the snow began to fall, and coming upon an old house, hidden and in dire need of extra care and maintenance. And then...her face fell…
Snape.
Like a hot poker had been thrust at her, Hermione was out of the bed like a shot. How could she have been so careless? The second her feet hit the cold, hard floor beneath, however, she immediately felt shaky and strange. She placed a hand behind her and gently lowered herself back down on the bed, one palm held to her abruptly throbbing head.
"Good morning."
Hermione whirled around. Snape was standing in the doorway, characteristically shadowed in black robes that fell in long lengths over him. There wasn't a smile to be seen on his face. She stared at him, momentarily frozen. There was a long silence as he did the same.
"I'd ask if you'd slept well but…" His eyes ran over her critically. "Obviously, you didn't."
Hermione was in no mood to debate his insult. "What am I doing here…what did you…" she trailed off. "I have to go," she said suddenly, grabbing the cloak from where it hung on the bedpost.
Snape took quick steps forward and lay a firm hand over the cloak, stopping Hermione from picking it up.
No matter how much she would have dearly loved to sink back into the bed and nurse her poor head, she glared at him, attempting to give the impression she was as well as she'd ever been.
"What are you doing?"
Snape sneered at her. "Do you honestly think I'm going to let you get up and go? I'm taking you to Dumbledore."
Hermione stared, her face stricken. "No! I can't…"
He raised an eyebrow. "Where else would you go now?"
"I've looked after myself quite well for five years, Professor Snape," she answered, quietly, but defiantly. "I can be gone without any trouble." And that's all I'd bring she added silently.
"Believe me when I tell you that I am more concerned for my own welfare than yours, Miss. Granger. Especially since I know Mr. Potter will personally attempt to murder me if I allow you to disappear again."
For a brief moment, Hermione's eyes lit up. "Harry? He's…?"
"He's perfectly well, unfortunately…as is his wife, and as I understand it, their recent offspring."
She gaped. "Harry's married? And Ron?" she asked.
"Most decidedly a bachelor," he sighed, growing impatient. "I do not have the time to share five years worth of news that is old to me now. Now, if you would just come with me to Hogwarts…"
Hermione looked at him as if he were insane. "Do you have the remotest idea why you have not seen me for five years? I've been trying to divert attention from myself- if I show up at Hogwarts, I might as well turn up with a marching band at the Ministry to announce my arrival."
Snape looked at her for a few moments until Hermione had to turn from his attention.
"Where have you been?" He asked. Was that a hint of subtle curiosity she saw in his eyes?
"Everywhere," she answered, wordlessly refusing to elaborate and staring at the wall.
He curled his lip. "Everywhere is a rather large place, Miss. Granger. Why is it you could not pick up a newspaper there?"
She frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"Nobody has been searching for you for two years, and the better part of a third. It's been a long time since you were on the Ministry's high priority list."
Hermione was silent for a while, her brow furrowed. "And what do you think would happen if I just appeared?" She laughed harshly. " Be 'integrated' back into society, told all my past misgivings were forgiven?" She shook her head. "No. I know enough to know that Fudge is still in charge. What better opportunity to leave a lasting legacy, than to kill the last Death-Eater?"
"If you'd allowed us to find you, you know full well that we had a window to convince the Wizengamot of your innocence."
She stared at him incredulously. "It all sounds well and good put like that, but you try being the one who's on the outside, looking in, with no idea whether she can return to England or not without being killed on the spot for a crime she hasn't committed!"
"Miss. Granger-" he began, his eyes flashing. She promptly interrupted him.
"No! I haven't had the chance to speak like this for five years, and you will listen!"
Hermione's own eyes were blazing now and very rarely did Severus Snape admit he was taken aback, but he undoubtedly was at this moment. This once timid Gryffindor, although she was no coward, was displaying the temper of a dangerous lioness.
"I'll admit it was rash, and perhaps stupid of me to do what I did- but I did it and I don't regret it. Voldemort's dead. Harry lives. I did what I had to do and it worked out, no matter what the consequences were for me. Dumbledore said sacrifices would have to be made, and that was mine," she finished softly, her brown eyes meeting his resolutely. "I don't regret it," she repeated.
Snape raised an eyebrow. "Are you quite finished?" She shot him a fierce look but said nothing.
"You can continue your tirade at Hogwarts. Dumbledore will be all too happy to let you ramble on." He handed over her captive cloak. "There is some Floo powder on the mantel," he said, gesturing at the elaborate mantelpiece, carved out of pure, black granite and marble. Two simple silver candlesticks stood at either end, their candles unlit.
Hermione didn't move.
"Must I make the decision for you? Think of it this way, A, you can stay here with me, and I assure you my temperament will not change, but only worsen with your presence, or B, you can return to Hogwarts and be with those who would actually be happy, and relieved, to see you again and to keep you safe until Dumbledore is able to free you from suspicion."
Promptly, Hermione walked over to the fireplace. She plunged her hand into the shallow dish of glittering Floo powder. Before throwing it into the fire, she turned.
"Did it not occur to you that I can easily Apparate from here?"
Snape smirked. "I at least hoped that your absence did not diminish your brain activity, Miss. Granger, but given your current question…I rather thought you'd have done it by now if you were able to."
She didn't reply, but was biting back a sharp response. She was finding it hard to keep her retorts and quick answers under lock and key now. It had been so long since she'd been able to talk almost freely, and paired with her snarky past Potions professor, she was quite ready to blow her top at the insensitive bastard, whose smirk irritated her more than she remembered.
She was spurred on by thinking of the Hogwarts infirmary, quiet and restful during the Christmas break, the caring, if strict medi-witch. Madam Pomfrey and the fact that there was a chance of seeing Harry and Ron soon…It's been so long…she thought. Hermione's mind was made up.
She threw the powder onto the fire. At once, a roaring green flame shot up in the grate. She had the strange longing to jump away from it rather than into it, as she always did when using the Floo network. Instead, she stepped in and spoke clearly.
"Albus Dumbledore's office!"
Suddenly, she was jerked away in a blurry of countless grates and fireplaces. Just before she left, she vaguely saw Snape reaching for his own handful of Floo powder.
When she arrived at the fire of Albus Dumbledore, Hermione landed, with poise, her knees slightly bent. She straightened up and quickly stepped onto the hearthrug, lest she be trampled on by a soon arriving, non-too-gentle Potions Master. If there was one thing Hermione liked to pride herself on, it was her smooth Floo arrivals. She almost smiled at the memory of Harry constantly coughing from the soot and normally arriving with a pair of snapped spectacles.
She looked across the room. A wizard and a witch stood there by the light of the window. It was the first time she had ever seen the usually unflappable pair, open-mouthed and agape at the astounding sight before them.
Hermione smiled weakly although her insides were churning wildly.. "Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall…Merry Christmas."
A/N: Thanks and Chocolate Frogs to everyone who reviewed, your response is terrific! Sakura...will be revealed. I'm also considering doing a SS/OC fic with her involved once I've got other things out of the way- I'm playing with 12 different plot lines right now. What do you reckon?