Chapter 23: Spirit Rekindled
Hermione had no idea how long she slept; it might have been days; when she awoke she was in some place she did not know, and she looked groggily at a bedside clock; it was twelve-thirty at night. Dumbledore would have called upon her fireplace at twelve. But she didn't really care. She went back to sleep instead.
A week later Hermione awoke again, this time feeling a bit more conscious than before. She blinked her eyes open slowly, and lifted her head carefully; it felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds. Professor Snape was in a chair in the corner of the room; it looked as if he had been waiting for her to wake up. She rubbed her forehead, then shut her eyes and looked away. "Where am I?" she asked softly, feeling as if her words were ringing through her head; she clutched it in pain. If this was what a hangover was supposed to feel like, she hoped she never got drunk.
"My manor," said Snape quietly, "the school year is over. I couldn't take you to the hospital wing." "The school year...is over?" she blearily sighed, "How did so much time pass?" "You exhausted yourself," said Snape, still speaking quietly, "you were asleep for weeks. Doesn't matter though. Dumbledore excused you and said you were to be given full marks for the remainder of the year. You scored well on your end of term exams, apparently." "I don't care about that," said Hermione in an ill tone, "what about Ron and Harry?" "They're both at the Weasley home," said Snape, "the Dursley family has apparently decided that they no longer care for Potter, and they refuse to take him back. Mrs. Weasley agreed to take him, however."
"Well I'm glad he has a home," she snapped sarcastically, thinking of the empty flat that awaited her the moment she was better. Her head throbbed some more, and she growled with displeasure. Silence reigned for a minute, until she said, "Whatever happened to Malfoy? Did they give him the Kiss?" she asked hopefully. "No," said Snape, grimacing, "he got away. Again." "Slippery sonofabitch," she muttered beneath her breath, no longer caring if Snape heard her cursing or not. "Why am I here?" said Hermione, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, "Why didn't you just throw me in St. Mungo's? I'm sure I belong there, not to mention the fact that you'd just love to get rid of me."
That remark seemed to sting him, and Hermione reveled in the pleasure of watching him squirm for once, "What, did I touch a sensitive spot? Why not? It's true, isn't it? I'll bet you just hate having me here. Did Dumbledore threaten you to get you to take me until I recovered? Trying to keep the whole bloody thing quiet?" "Miss Granger, that's quite enough," he said, some anger bubbling now. But why stop there? She most certainly didn't care anymore. "No, I really don't think it is," she snarled angrily, head now throbbing incessantly, "I mean, why didn't you just leave me there by my parents' graves? I'm sure that would have been the easiest thing for you to do. But I suppose you got blackmailed into taking me for a while. God knows nobody wants a Mudblood; stupid Mudblood Granger, always fouling things up, as usual..." "Miss Granger, that's enough!" shouted Snape; the words rang through her head, and she let out a moan of pain as her head shook with dizziness.
"For your information, Miss Granger," he said, standing up and looking more menacing than usual, "no one ordered me to take you. I did it of my own free will, because you know what? You're not the only one that's ever lost their parents to the Dark Lord, and I felt bad about it. That's right, I have feelings. I'm not the cold, insensitive, stubborn bastard you think I am now am I? No, I brought you here because I thought it would be better for you to recover here in peace rather than be put out on display like a circus freak in the hospital wing, but I'm already beginning to see the sort of gratitude I'm going to receive!" he ended angrily, his voice at the volume of a roar.
Hermione's head quivered with more dizzied emotion, and to top it off, now she felt guilty. She never would have guessed that Snape's parents had been killed by You-Know-Who. Why the hell was she still calling him that? She never would have guessed that Snape's parents had been killed by Voldemort, that's what she meant to say. "I'm sorry," she said finally, speaking in a dulled voice that did not feel like her own. After a minute of silence, he said, "It's fine. I'm going to get you something to eat; you haven't eaten a full meal in about two weeks. I'll be back in a few minutes." He slipped quietly out the door, and Hermione silently wondered why the hell he was doing this for her.
A few minutes later he returned carrying a tray of soup, bread, milk, and a sandwich. She demolished it in about five minutes, and Snape felt more elated; at least she wouldn't die of starvation. Depression, however, was quite another story. "Stand up," said Snape, "come on, hurry it up. We haven't got all day." Hermione got out of bed slowly; her legs stretched and cracked with the lack of use over the past weeks, and she walked in a wobbly fashion. "Come on, let's go," he said, steadying her by taking one arm and steering her out the door.
"Where are we going?" she asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the knowledge that she was wearing her flannel pajamas. "For a walk," he said, and walk they did, all the way across the manor and all the way back. "What was the point of that?" she asked when they finally came back to the bedroom. "The point of that," replied Snape, allowing her to sit in the chair he had occupied earlier, "was to get you up and out. You need to walk. The worst thing you can do is just lie there." She didn't bother arguing, and merely yawned, "When do I go home then?" she said, changing the subject.
"That's up to you," said Snape, "the Headmaster thought that you should make that decision on your own. You can go home to the flat that was owned by your parents, or you can stay at any number of places. The Headmaster and Professor McGonagall have both offered their houses as residency for you. You could also go to the local orphanage. Or stay with a relative. Or," he looked a little disgruntled, "you could stay here if you really needed." "I don't really want to stay with any of my relatives, and an orphanage is absolutely not going to happen, and there's no way I'm going to put myself on you," she said stubbornly. "Then you are limited in your choices," said Snape sternly, "so it's really up to you."
Hermione meditated on this over the next week; the obvious choice was to go home, to go back to where she had once been happy. In the mean time, Snape helped her recover, and within the week she was doing much better, and did not feel as depressed. Finally, after another week of recovery, she told Snape, "I'm leaving tomorrow. I've decided. I'm going back to the flat." He nodded, "I understand. I'll have Blinky my house elf fetch you a carriage for tomorrow." She smiled weakly; she hadn't used those muscles in weeks, "Thank you."
The day passed quickly, and the following morning Blinky was putting her luggage into the carriage, and Hermione turned to Snape. "Thank you for...for helping me," she said quietly, "I don't really know how else I would have made it." Snape said nothing for a minute, then finally said, "If you need any help over the summer, you can use Floo Powder. I'm usually around during the summer holidays. You know the address." She nodded, and turned to get in the carriage, then suddenly turned back and threw her arms around him, holding him tightly. He hugged back for a moment, then realized that this was not a good sort of hug; she was breathing against his neck, saying, "Thank you sir...you mean so much to me...I really...I've enjoyed this...it's made me feel alive again...I've really enjoyed getting to know you..."
Her left hand touched his cheek, and he almost froze, then slowly he pulled her arms from around his neck, "Miss Granger...we're still teacher and student. That's all." She looked almost shattered for a moment, and Snape regretted having to be so forward and cruel, but he had to say it. Suddenly she nodded, "You're right, of course. I guess I'm just...looking for somebody right now. I need some...some time to think. By myself." She climbed into the carriage and the door clicked shut behind her; she stuck her head out the window, "Thanks for everything." The carriage began to move, and she put her head back in, and Snape noticed that she was looking out the back window and waving. He waved back, but only just, then went inside.
"That was a very noble thing you did Severus."
It was Dumbledore, and from the looks of it, he had just climbed out of Snape's fireplace. "Yes, well, she's rather vulnerable at the moment. Hopefully that won't get her into trouble..." Snape trailed off. "I think she was looking for a friend," said Dumbledore, "and got caught up in wishing for something more. She won't do it again, I don't think. Once she's found out who she is this summer, she'll feel better, if not a little embarrassed. You won't be too cruel about it, will you?" Snape watched as the carriage receded into the distant city of London, "No sir, I don't think so."
They were both silent for a minute, then Snape asked, "What of Potter and Weasley?" "They're safe at the Burrow," said Dumbledore, "although I'm wondering how it is that I'm going to get Harry back to the Dursleys, even for a week or so. That magic has to keep replenishing itself...but...they won't take him back. And until they do, Harry runs the risk of losing his mother's magic." Snape nodded, "I see." Dumbledore spoke again a minute later, "Speaking of Harry, how did those Occlumency and Animagus lessons go?" "Fairly well," said Snape begrudgingly, "Potter is an accomplished Occlumens, although his Legilimency still needs some work." "Oh good," said Dumbledore, "then you can help him this summer!" Snape groaned, "Somehow I knew I'd regret it if I said anything."
Dumbledore smiled, "Well Severus, perhaps it'll be good for you and Harry." Snape frowned at the old man, and Dumbledore laughed, "Or maybe not. And what of his Animagus training?" "Surprisingly," said Snape smoothly, "Potter has done well considering how young he is. Of course, I'm not about ready to tell him that; I keep trying to get him to move faster, learn how to transform quicker, and he's doing it, but..." "But what?" asked Dumbledore, brushing some ash from his shoulders. "But I hate admitting it," finished Snape lamely, and Dumbledore smiled.
"You know," said Dumbledore, "I think James would really appreciate what you've done for him...what you've done to help his son. And I know Lily would have felt the same way." All Snape could remember of James, however, was the cruel taunting, and somewhere in the back of his mind, the name Snivellus echoed inside. "They were cruel childhood pranks Severus," said Dumbledore, almost as if he had read his mind, "don't let it haunt you for the rest of your life. You have to live in the present, not the past." Snape nodded, "I know."
They were silent again, until finally Dumbledore said, "Severus...I never told you this, but...I'm as proud of you as a teacher could ever be of a student. You have always been a good friend; a proud one, but a good one; I just want you to know how glad I am to have you around." Snape felt stung by those words; he didn't deserve such a complement. "Sir, you're the one I should be thanking," he said, turning to look at him from where he'd been staring out the front window, "you gave me the chance. Without it, I wouldn't have made anything of myself. I'd probably be sitting in Azkaban next to the Dolohovs."
Dumbledore shook his head, and somewhere he felt a cold drop of ice pierce his heart as he realized that Severus was now in serious danger after what had happened at the end of the year. Voldemort would know of Severus's treachery, and he would not be welcomed back into the fold. "I'll lie low for a while, don't worry," said Severus, almost in answer to his thoughts, "I know how dangerous they can be. I'll steer clear for a while. You can count on it." "Good," said Dumbledore, "you know how worried I get." "I do," said Severus, "and I wish you wouldn't. Sometimes I'd rather just be killed and make the whole bloody thing easier." "Please don't joke about that," responded Dumbledore tightly.
Snape felt bad for offending him and muttered, "Sorry," feeling a bit out of sorts. Finally, after another few minutes of silence, Dumbledore said, "Well Severus, I must be going. You will keep a look out for Miss Granger though, won't you?" "Yes," sighed Severus, "I plan on stopping by sometime in the next month to make sure she's getting on all right." "Good," said Dumbledore, "I'll do the same." He turned to climb back into the fireplace, then looked back, "Severus?" Snape turned to face him, "Yes sir?" Dumbledore smiled, "I hope you're looking forward to next year."
Snape opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but too late; Dumbledore was already swirling back to his own home, and Snape was left alone in the manor. He reflected on Dumbledore's statement for a few minutes, then went upstairs and collapsed on his bed, and fell into a fitful sleep.
Hermione had no idea how long she slept; it might have been days; when she awoke she was in some place she did not know, and she looked groggily at a bedside clock; it was twelve-thirty at night. Dumbledore would have called upon her fireplace at twelve. But she didn't really care. She went back to sleep instead.
A week later Hermione awoke again, this time feeling a bit more conscious than before. She blinked her eyes open slowly, and lifted her head carefully; it felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds. Professor Snape was in a chair in the corner of the room; it looked as if he had been waiting for her to wake up. She rubbed her forehead, then shut her eyes and looked away. "Where am I?" she asked softly, feeling as if her words were ringing through her head; she clutched it in pain. If this was what a hangover was supposed to feel like, she hoped she never got drunk.
"My manor," said Snape quietly, "the school year is over. I couldn't take you to the hospital wing." "The school year...is over?" she blearily sighed, "How did so much time pass?" "You exhausted yourself," said Snape, still speaking quietly, "you were asleep for weeks. Doesn't matter though. Dumbledore excused you and said you were to be given full marks for the remainder of the year. You scored well on your end of term exams, apparently." "I don't care about that," said Hermione in an ill tone, "what about Ron and Harry?" "They're both at the Weasley home," said Snape, "the Dursley family has apparently decided that they no longer care for Potter, and they refuse to take him back. Mrs. Weasley agreed to take him, however."
"Well I'm glad he has a home," she snapped sarcastically, thinking of the empty flat that awaited her the moment she was better. Her head throbbed some more, and she growled with displeasure. Silence reigned for a minute, until she said, "Whatever happened to Malfoy? Did they give him the Kiss?" she asked hopefully. "No," said Snape, grimacing, "he got away. Again." "Slippery sonofabitch," she muttered beneath her breath, no longer caring if Snape heard her cursing or not. "Why am I here?" said Hermione, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, "Why didn't you just throw me in St. Mungo's? I'm sure I belong there, not to mention the fact that you'd just love to get rid of me."
That remark seemed to sting him, and Hermione reveled in the pleasure of watching him squirm for once, "What, did I touch a sensitive spot? Why not? It's true, isn't it? I'll bet you just hate having me here. Did Dumbledore threaten you to get you to take me until I recovered? Trying to keep the whole bloody thing quiet?" "Miss Granger, that's quite enough," he said, some anger bubbling now. But why stop there? She most certainly didn't care anymore. "No, I really don't think it is," she snarled angrily, head now throbbing incessantly, "I mean, why didn't you just leave me there by my parents' graves? I'm sure that would have been the easiest thing for you to do. But I suppose you got blackmailed into taking me for a while. God knows nobody wants a Mudblood; stupid Mudblood Granger, always fouling things up, as usual..." "Miss Granger, that's enough!" shouted Snape; the words rang through her head, and she let out a moan of pain as her head shook with dizziness.
"For your information, Miss Granger," he said, standing up and looking more menacing than usual, "no one ordered me to take you. I did it of my own free will, because you know what? You're not the only one that's ever lost their parents to the Dark Lord, and I felt bad about it. That's right, I have feelings. I'm not the cold, insensitive, stubborn bastard you think I am now am I? No, I brought you here because I thought it would be better for you to recover here in peace rather than be put out on display like a circus freak in the hospital wing, but I'm already beginning to see the sort of gratitude I'm going to receive!" he ended angrily, his voice at the volume of a roar.
Hermione's head quivered with more dizzied emotion, and to top it off, now she felt guilty. She never would have guessed that Snape's parents had been killed by You-Know-Who. Why the hell was she still calling him that? She never would have guessed that Snape's parents had been killed by Voldemort, that's what she meant to say. "I'm sorry," she said finally, speaking in a dulled voice that did not feel like her own. After a minute of silence, he said, "It's fine. I'm going to get you something to eat; you haven't eaten a full meal in about two weeks. I'll be back in a few minutes." He slipped quietly out the door, and Hermione silently wondered why the hell he was doing this for her.
A few minutes later he returned carrying a tray of soup, bread, milk, and a sandwich. She demolished it in about five minutes, and Snape felt more elated; at least she wouldn't die of starvation. Depression, however, was quite another story. "Stand up," said Snape, "come on, hurry it up. We haven't got all day." Hermione got out of bed slowly; her legs stretched and cracked with the lack of use over the past weeks, and she walked in a wobbly fashion. "Come on, let's go," he said, steadying her by taking one arm and steering her out the door.
"Where are we going?" she asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the knowledge that she was wearing her flannel pajamas. "For a walk," he said, and walk they did, all the way across the manor and all the way back. "What was the point of that?" she asked when they finally came back to the bedroom. "The point of that," replied Snape, allowing her to sit in the chair he had occupied earlier, "was to get you up and out. You need to walk. The worst thing you can do is just lie there." She didn't bother arguing, and merely yawned, "When do I go home then?" she said, changing the subject.
"That's up to you," said Snape, "the Headmaster thought that you should make that decision on your own. You can go home to the flat that was owned by your parents, or you can stay at any number of places. The Headmaster and Professor McGonagall have both offered their houses as residency for you. You could also go to the local orphanage. Or stay with a relative. Or," he looked a little disgruntled, "you could stay here if you really needed." "I don't really want to stay with any of my relatives, and an orphanage is absolutely not going to happen, and there's no way I'm going to put myself on you," she said stubbornly. "Then you are limited in your choices," said Snape sternly, "so it's really up to you."
Hermione meditated on this over the next week; the obvious choice was to go home, to go back to where she had once been happy. In the mean time, Snape helped her recover, and within the week she was doing much better, and did not feel as depressed. Finally, after another week of recovery, she told Snape, "I'm leaving tomorrow. I've decided. I'm going back to the flat." He nodded, "I understand. I'll have Blinky my house elf fetch you a carriage for tomorrow." She smiled weakly; she hadn't used those muscles in weeks, "Thank you."
The day passed quickly, and the following morning Blinky was putting her luggage into the carriage, and Hermione turned to Snape. "Thank you for...for helping me," she said quietly, "I don't really know how else I would have made it." Snape said nothing for a minute, then finally said, "If you need any help over the summer, you can use Floo Powder. I'm usually around during the summer holidays. You know the address." She nodded, and turned to get in the carriage, then suddenly turned back and threw her arms around him, holding him tightly. He hugged back for a moment, then realized that this was not a good sort of hug; she was breathing against his neck, saying, "Thank you sir...you mean so much to me...I really...I've enjoyed this...it's made me feel alive again...I've really enjoyed getting to know you..."
Her left hand touched his cheek, and he almost froze, then slowly he pulled her arms from around his neck, "Miss Granger...we're still teacher and student. That's all." She looked almost shattered for a moment, and Snape regretted having to be so forward and cruel, but he had to say it. Suddenly she nodded, "You're right, of course. I guess I'm just...looking for somebody right now. I need some...some time to think. By myself." She climbed into the carriage and the door clicked shut behind her; she stuck her head out the window, "Thanks for everything." The carriage began to move, and she put her head back in, and Snape noticed that she was looking out the back window and waving. He waved back, but only just, then went inside.
"That was a very noble thing you did Severus."
It was Dumbledore, and from the looks of it, he had just climbed out of Snape's fireplace. "Yes, well, she's rather vulnerable at the moment. Hopefully that won't get her into trouble..." Snape trailed off. "I think she was looking for a friend," said Dumbledore, "and got caught up in wishing for something more. She won't do it again, I don't think. Once she's found out who she is this summer, she'll feel better, if not a little embarrassed. You won't be too cruel about it, will you?" Snape watched as the carriage receded into the distant city of London, "No sir, I don't think so."
They were both silent for a minute, then Snape asked, "What of Potter and Weasley?" "They're safe at the Burrow," said Dumbledore, "although I'm wondering how it is that I'm going to get Harry back to the Dursleys, even for a week or so. That magic has to keep replenishing itself...but...they won't take him back. And until they do, Harry runs the risk of losing his mother's magic." Snape nodded, "I see." Dumbledore spoke again a minute later, "Speaking of Harry, how did those Occlumency and Animagus lessons go?" "Fairly well," said Snape begrudgingly, "Potter is an accomplished Occlumens, although his Legilimency still needs some work." "Oh good," said Dumbledore, "then you can help him this summer!" Snape groaned, "Somehow I knew I'd regret it if I said anything."
Dumbledore smiled, "Well Severus, perhaps it'll be good for you and Harry." Snape frowned at the old man, and Dumbledore laughed, "Or maybe not. And what of his Animagus training?" "Surprisingly," said Snape smoothly, "Potter has done well considering how young he is. Of course, I'm not about ready to tell him that; I keep trying to get him to move faster, learn how to transform quicker, and he's doing it, but..." "But what?" asked Dumbledore, brushing some ash from his shoulders. "But I hate admitting it," finished Snape lamely, and Dumbledore smiled.
"You know," said Dumbledore, "I think James would really appreciate what you've done for him...what you've done to help his son. And I know Lily would have felt the same way." All Snape could remember of James, however, was the cruel taunting, and somewhere in the back of his mind, the name Snivellus echoed inside. "They were cruel childhood pranks Severus," said Dumbledore, almost as if he had read his mind, "don't let it haunt you for the rest of your life. You have to live in the present, not the past." Snape nodded, "I know."
They were silent again, until finally Dumbledore said, "Severus...I never told you this, but...I'm as proud of you as a teacher could ever be of a student. You have always been a good friend; a proud one, but a good one; I just want you to know how glad I am to have you around." Snape felt stung by those words; he didn't deserve such a complement. "Sir, you're the one I should be thanking," he said, turning to look at him from where he'd been staring out the front window, "you gave me the chance. Without it, I wouldn't have made anything of myself. I'd probably be sitting in Azkaban next to the Dolohovs."
Dumbledore shook his head, and somewhere he felt a cold drop of ice pierce his heart as he realized that Severus was now in serious danger after what had happened at the end of the year. Voldemort would know of Severus's treachery, and he would not be welcomed back into the fold. "I'll lie low for a while, don't worry," said Severus, almost in answer to his thoughts, "I know how dangerous they can be. I'll steer clear for a while. You can count on it." "Good," said Dumbledore, "you know how worried I get." "I do," said Severus, "and I wish you wouldn't. Sometimes I'd rather just be killed and make the whole bloody thing easier." "Please don't joke about that," responded Dumbledore tightly.
Snape felt bad for offending him and muttered, "Sorry," feeling a bit out of sorts. Finally, after another few minutes of silence, Dumbledore said, "Well Severus, I must be going. You will keep a look out for Miss Granger though, won't you?" "Yes," sighed Severus, "I plan on stopping by sometime in the next month to make sure she's getting on all right." "Good," said Dumbledore, "I'll do the same." He turned to climb back into the fireplace, then looked back, "Severus?" Snape turned to face him, "Yes sir?" Dumbledore smiled, "I hope you're looking forward to next year."
Snape opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but too late; Dumbledore was already swirling back to his own home, and Snape was left alone in the manor. He reflected on Dumbledore's statement for a few minutes, then went upstairs and collapsed on his bed, and fell into a fitful sleep.