One Young Heart
Chapter 8: Redemption
The irritation that had filled Hermione at Snape's intrusion vanished at his words, replaced by concern. She knew Professor Snape, and it took far more than a bump on the head to make him surrender a point... "Ron," she said urgently, "You should talk to Harry. He'll understand, I'm sure. There's nothing wrong with seeking knowledge, or with choosing the path less traveled. I'm proud of you." Then she flew down the steps of the library, trying to act nonchalant, acting like a teenager called into the classroom by a harsh professor. The roughhewn stones flashed past as she descended into the dungeon, and ran straight ito the Potions classroom, down the stairs of his rooms, and skidded to a halt before the gray cat that guarded the door.
Two tremendous eyes stared at her, coldly and distantly. For some reason, Hermione felt that the cat was contemptuous of Snape and his illness. "Oh, move!" hissed Hermione. The cat blinked. "Let me in. I need to help Snape!" No movement. "Yes, well, I suppose that you get along with him brilliantly, don't you?" her voice rose to a scream. "Lurking in the shadows, only getting in the way when things are urgent. You probably do an excellent job of isolating him from everyone who wants to help him, just like that damn temper of his. Well, let me tell you this, cat. Everyone deserves a chance to be redeemed. Everyone."
"And what of those who are given that chance and fail, Miss Granger? What of those who would laugh in your face, and kill you for it? What of those who take that chance, and are thrown back to the wolves, with ideals and no way to use them? You would save my soul, it seems. But do you offer that choice to everyone? Would you save Voldemort, if he came to you, or would you leave him to justice? Would you save the dark lord if he killed Ronald Weasly? Harry Potter? how about me, Miss Granger? Would you save the man who took my life?"
The students in the great hall were returning to their houses, and their footsteps fell into the silence that stretched between them. Hermione stared across the room, over the head of the cat, at Severus Snape. His eyes were completely black, empty, heartless, but she could see a spark of passion as he spoke; and it was hatred, pure and simple. Not directed at her, though, she could see that in the sorrow of his face.
Deep in Snape, bitter isolation and a sorrowful desire to speak, to interact with anything and anyone were fighting. The girl's apparent concern for him had inspired him with an intense desire to speak, to be understood. But no, she wasn't sincere, she was faking concern to trap him, like everyone else, like Dumbledore. Maybe even for Dumbledore. Bitter mistrust won, and though the only outward expression of it was a hardening in his eyes, but Hermione felt him withdraw back inside of himself. Feeling the tension in the room, the cat walked quietly out.
She hadn't even considered what she was doing when she offered to help Snape. She had only thought that it would help the Order, that she wanted to help. Now, looking at Snape, she realized that she was not just committing herself to keeping him alive. She was committing herself to helping this man overcome his demons, to helping him be happy. Looking at his face, she wondered when he had last smiled; if he had ever smiled, if beneath the bitter lines and cold eyes there was a caring man or a proud one. Suddenly she understood why Voldemort was so evil. He destroyed everything. all beautiful things were crushed beneath his feet. Mrs. Weasly crying before the boggart, Harry miserable, Diggory dead, Sirius imprisoned and now dead- and Severus Snape.
Quietly, Snape said "Get out, Miss Granger."
"No, sir. You can throw me out, if you're strong enough, but I won't leave. I'll keep coming, keep helping. Drive me away if you want, sir, but I'm stubborn. and I won't leave you to your brooding, and you potions burns. If you look like this, I hate to think what you've done to that room."
Hermione's large eyes bored into Severus' narrow, dark eyes. He knew she was right. The Dark Lord was clearly not going to protect him this time around, and he couldn't get by on his own. At the same time, a desire to speak to someone, to hear someone else's feet echoing in the overlarge halls of the castle filled him.
The Potion Master dropped his gaze from Hermione's, and she could hear his voice issue from beneath the mass of his hair. "Very well, Miss Granger. It would seem that we shall be working together for now."
Chapter 8: Redemption
The irritation that had filled Hermione at Snape's intrusion vanished at his words, replaced by concern. She knew Professor Snape, and it took far more than a bump on the head to make him surrender a point... "Ron," she said urgently, "You should talk to Harry. He'll understand, I'm sure. There's nothing wrong with seeking knowledge, or with choosing the path less traveled. I'm proud of you." Then she flew down the steps of the library, trying to act nonchalant, acting like a teenager called into the classroom by a harsh professor. The roughhewn stones flashed past as she descended into the dungeon, and ran straight ito the Potions classroom, down the stairs of his rooms, and skidded to a halt before the gray cat that guarded the door.
Two tremendous eyes stared at her, coldly and distantly. For some reason, Hermione felt that the cat was contemptuous of Snape and his illness. "Oh, move!" hissed Hermione. The cat blinked. "Let me in. I need to help Snape!" No movement. "Yes, well, I suppose that you get along with him brilliantly, don't you?" her voice rose to a scream. "Lurking in the shadows, only getting in the way when things are urgent. You probably do an excellent job of isolating him from everyone who wants to help him, just like that damn temper of his. Well, let me tell you this, cat. Everyone deserves a chance to be redeemed. Everyone."
"And what of those who are given that chance and fail, Miss Granger? What of those who would laugh in your face, and kill you for it? What of those who take that chance, and are thrown back to the wolves, with ideals and no way to use them? You would save my soul, it seems. But do you offer that choice to everyone? Would you save Voldemort, if he came to you, or would you leave him to justice? Would you save the dark lord if he killed Ronald Weasly? Harry Potter? how about me, Miss Granger? Would you save the man who took my life?"
The students in the great hall were returning to their houses, and their footsteps fell into the silence that stretched between them. Hermione stared across the room, over the head of the cat, at Severus Snape. His eyes were completely black, empty, heartless, but she could see a spark of passion as he spoke; and it was hatred, pure and simple. Not directed at her, though, she could see that in the sorrow of his face.
Deep in Snape, bitter isolation and a sorrowful desire to speak, to interact with anything and anyone were fighting. The girl's apparent concern for him had inspired him with an intense desire to speak, to be understood. But no, she wasn't sincere, she was faking concern to trap him, like everyone else, like Dumbledore. Maybe even for Dumbledore. Bitter mistrust won, and though the only outward expression of it was a hardening in his eyes, but Hermione felt him withdraw back inside of himself. Feeling the tension in the room, the cat walked quietly out.
She hadn't even considered what she was doing when she offered to help Snape. She had only thought that it would help the Order, that she wanted to help. Now, looking at Snape, she realized that she was not just committing herself to keeping him alive. She was committing herself to helping this man overcome his demons, to helping him be happy. Looking at his face, she wondered when he had last smiled; if he had ever smiled, if beneath the bitter lines and cold eyes there was a caring man or a proud one. Suddenly she understood why Voldemort was so evil. He destroyed everything. all beautiful things were crushed beneath his feet. Mrs. Weasly crying before the boggart, Harry miserable, Diggory dead, Sirius imprisoned and now dead- and Severus Snape.
Quietly, Snape said "Get out, Miss Granger."
"No, sir. You can throw me out, if you're strong enough, but I won't leave. I'll keep coming, keep helping. Drive me away if you want, sir, but I'm stubborn. and I won't leave you to your brooding, and you potions burns. If you look like this, I hate to think what you've done to that room."
Hermione's large eyes bored into Severus' narrow, dark eyes. He knew she was right. The Dark Lord was clearly not going to protect him this time around, and he couldn't get by on his own. At the same time, a desire to speak to someone, to hear someone else's feet echoing in the overlarge halls of the castle filled him.
The Potion Master dropped his gaze from Hermione's, and she could hear his voice issue from beneath the mass of his hair. "Very well, Miss Granger. It would seem that we shall be working together for now."