Chapter 4
Fallen
Heaven bent to take my hand
And lead me through the fire
Be the long awaited answer
to a long and painful fight
Truth be told I've tried my best
But somewhere along the way
I got caught up in all there was to offer
And the cost was so much more than I could bear
Though I've tried, I've fallen..
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don't come round here
And tell me I told you so....
We all begin with good intent
Love was raw and young
We believed that we could change ourselves
The past could be undone
But we carry on our back the burden
Time always reveals
The lonely light of morning
The wound that would not heal
It's the bitter taste of losing everything
That I've held so dear.
Heaven bent to take my hand
Nowhere left to turn
I'm lost to those I thought were friends
to everyone I know
Oh they turned their heads embarassed
Pretend that they don't see
But it's one missed step
You'll slip before you know it
And there doesn't seem a way to be redeemed
The morning after Ginny had visited Draco in the dark of night the light of day seemed especially harsh to a man, waking alone in his bed - as Hermione had the previous morning. But for him, it was no shock. The loneliness of his mornings were only a reminder of the empty life he lived. Had lived, for twenty years now. Since that one night where he had bared his arm, lightly muscled from the Quidditch he played for the Slytherin house squad those last 3 years. Bared his arm to a smirking Lucius, and had bore the pain of the tattoo being burned into his skin. A wound he could see now, against the black sheets - never faded, nor healed. Like the wound in his heart.
Severus Snape shook himself out of his musing and threw back the silken covers of the bed, laying his feet upon the cold flagstone floor with a grimace. He could have rugs placed in here, he had numerous in his family's home, lying in storage, woven of bright blues and muted greens. But this little inconvenience, small shock in the morning was part of the penance he dealt himself, each and every day. He stood and moved to the window, where the slightly ajar curtains were letting beams of the grey light filter through. Pulling one to the side, he gazed out over the dreary Scottish morning - like so many he had seen.
And like every morning, the pain pierced him as he saw the clouds move against the sky. Though he lives in the dungeons, and the first floor of his rooms indeed had no windows, his bedroom and study were above ground, so he didn't live in perpetual darkness. Sometimes he wished he could. He almost wished it was more miserable today, it would suit his mood more properly. But if weather was forced to suit Severus' moods every day, there would never be a blue sky to be seen. With a slight snarl, he dropped the curtain and made his way to the shower, dropping his silk pyjamas in the hamper on his way. He had forbidden any House elf to enter his quarters without express permission since the beginning of his tenure at Hogwarts - nearly twenty years ago now. The Snape family had practised fair hiring for centuries now - ever since one of his great grandfathers had represented the House elves in an unsuccessful negotiation for better rights and upon losing, had forbidden any of his descendants from making use of them. Severus also appreciated his absolutely privacy, so found it no great hardship.
When the water of his shower sluiced his skin, Severus let out a sigh. Another day, another endless day.
---
A day made painful by the presence of Neville Longbottom. Severus bit back a curse as behind his back, he heard the quiet shatter of a vial and the murmured, "Eep!" Severus closed his eyes and counted to ten. Then to ten in french. Italian. Latin. Goblin. Aramaic. He would have moved on to Russian but he was interrupted by a resigned "Abstergeo!"
He turned to see Hermione Granger finishing the flick of her wand and turning to give Neville a steely look. "Honestly, Nev - what did we talk about last night? A quick charm can fix most..." she trailed off when she felt warm breath on the back of her neck.
"Miss Granger, unless I am mistaken - I am the professor of this class, am I not?" he breathed.
She turned to face him, tilting her chin to look him in the eye. She gave a perfunctory smile and widened her hazel eyes. "Of course Professor, I had just previously suggested to Neville that rather than panicking after breaking a vial, he - "
"Use a cleaning charm to cover his error? What if the solution is noxious Miss Granger, or so acidic that it burns through the floor before you can complete the first syllable?"
The confident look on her face faded somewhat. "But we rarely work in such dangerous chemicals, sir - and I thought it would help Neville."
"It doesn't matter what you think, girl. I am the professor here and unless I ask for your input, which would be a highly unlikely occurrence - there is no need for you to open your smart mouth." Her jaw was hanging slightly open so he pushed her mouth closed with a finger. With a sneer, he leaned in to whisper into her ear, "And don't leave your mouth open quite like that, unless you're waiting for someone to put something into it." He spun on his heel to turn to Longbottom, cowering beside them and proceeded to start his lecture.
---
At dinner, he observed quite easily from the Teacher's table that Hermione was still fuming. She was picking at her food, and the usual antics of the Gryffindor table, namely Ron and Harry joking around as Dean and Seamus bickered, didn't seem to pick up her mood as it usually could. Severus smirked down into his dinner, which unfortunately was caught by Professor Dumbledore. When he got up to leave, the elder Professor followed him down the private corridor for Professors.
"Severus," he called and Snape obediently stopped.
He turned to face the man who had been his saviour, whose pity now felt so like a
dagger. "Albus, what can I do for you?"
"I heard about what happened with the sixth year Gryffindors today, really Severus - that comment was inappropriate."
"Miss Granger is a big girl," Severus sniffed.
"Yes she is, but it must be a difficult time for her. She and Harry recently split, if you didn't know." Albus took off his glasses ponderously. "I was quite disappointed really, I could see a good match between those two."
"I hardly make it my business to keep up with the students' affairs. And it would not have been a good match, Miss Granger is far too intelligent to stay with Potter for any long stretch of time," Severus crossed his arms. He had been aware of the relationship between Potter and Granger, but not of their split. Interesting, perhaps Miss Granger finally woke up to the reality she was making herself the plaything of a dunderhead.
"It is true that she shows great aptitude, Severus." Albus gave the Potions Master a long look and Severus suddenly realized he had painted himself into a corner. "That's why I want you to invite her to apply for the Potions apprenticeship over the summer."
"What?!" The Potions apprenticeship was a position of studying over the summer months with Snape, usually offered to only seventh years as a precursor to further studies once they had graduated Hogwarts. "She's still a sixth year - "
"And the brightest mind in Hogwarts right now. Really, which of the seventh years could you offer it to?" Albus asked reasonably.
Severus set his jaw. It was true most of the seventh years who showed the slightest interest in potions were either dunderheads or had no interest in pursuing studies over months they usually whittled away rather than work upon improving their minds. He made a decision, considering that it was probably already made, as Albus had suggested it ever so subtly. "I'll ask her to submit a thesis, but she'll compete against everyone else. If she doesn't have the best thesis - then you can't expect me to take her on."
"Of course not, Severus," Albus beamed. "I must be on my way now, but have a lovely evening." With a swirl of blindingly purple robes, he swept away.
Severus was still muttering about 'lovely evenings' and his general dislike of perky people when he crossed into the public halls and spotted a lone figure stamping down the hall towards him.
She was muttering under her breath as she approached, "Oblivious..... git.... greasy...."
She was only cut off by a quiet, "Miss Granger."
Hermione stopped, only a foot away from the Professor she had just passed, and spun to face him. She made a face, but settled her shoulders. "Professor."
"What are you doing in this part of the castle? It's rather far from your tower," he asked.
"I'm on patrol, sir," she bit off, crossing her arms.
"Of course. Then it's actually fortunate I ran into you, I require some words with you."
"About more reasons to keep my jaw shut?" she fumed.
He started to snap back, but stopped himself. "I suppose I should start by apologizing for my rude remarks this afternoon."
"You should," she agreed with venom in her smile.
He raised a dark eyebrow at the young girl - no, woman in front of him. He gave a slight bend at the waist, "I apologize Miss Granger."
"Thank you," she shifted then looked up at him. "I probably should not have been interfering. I'm perfectly aware that Neville is utterly hopeless in Potions but he does mean well."
"Meaning doesn't allow for sloppiness, Miss Granger."
She smiled resignedly and sighed. "I'm well aware."
Severus bit back a chuckle, it was good to know he wasn't the only person that Longbottom frustrated. He knew Longbottom and Granger were friends, but for someone of her aptitude to deal with someone with such... lack thereof, must be difficult. He raised a hand to indicate for her to continue walking. As they fell into an easy pace, he spoke again, "But I had hoped to make a request of you."
Hermione raised a slim eyebrow. "Request?"
"Yes, to submit a thesis to the Potions apprenticeship for this summer."
He had expected her to look surprised, but not joyful. "Oh Professor - really?!"
He gave a short nod and she clapped her hands together. "I've had a thesis ready for ages, but I was sure I wouldn't get the opportunity to submit until my seventh year! Thank you!" Before he knew it, she flung herself at him to hug him tightly.
Severus stood ramrod straight for a second, and then raised a hand to pat her shoulder gently. "Yes, well...."
She jumped back, raising a hand to her mouth. "Oh, Professor - I'm sorry. I didn't - think..."
Severus gave her a tight smile, "Yes, that is the Gryffindor motto isn't it? It's of no concern - just have your thesis on my desk by Friday afternoon."
She nodded, mahogany ringlets bouncing. "I just need to add one or two things to it, I read a fascinating article in Ars Armatoria last month which gave me several ideas..."
They parted at the junction he took to his quarters. Upon entering, he removed his outer teaching robe and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his white starched shirt, which had somewhat lost it's creases during the day. He poured himself a small snifter of brandy and sat before his fire.
So Potter and Hermione - he had begun to think of her with her first name after she had hugged him, it seemed appropriate, had gone their separate ways. He remembered his sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts as being rife with couples joining, fighting and splitting up. It was all so.... young. But in truth, a four month fling with a Ravenclaw brunette in his seventh year had been his last serious relationship. Considering he had taken the Dark Mark the next summer and had fled to Dumbledore's protection the summer after, he hadn't had much time for any other youthful trysts. He had been so caught up first in pain, and sex and fire that year and then suddenly so disgusted in himself. He had run to Dumbledore expecting an 'I told you so' from the elderly professor, who had tried so hard to keep him from that fall, that missed - impulsive step. Instead, he had regained a home, a purpose - but never redemption. And he had alienated himself from any kind of real attachments since then. Severus never thought of what kind of attachments he could have formed if not for that mistake. Thoughts of a wife, a family - were all too painful, those hopes too difficult to bear. He had his sister, though he rarely saw her. He had his life.
His life of separation. Gone were the friends from his school days, they had abandoned him when he had taken the mark. Those friends that had once been so dear. Gone were the so called compatriots of the Death Eaters, addicted to the blood and tears. The power that he had felt. The power of his retching into a bush that morning he had decided to leave. He had no real friends, he was friendly enough with most of the other Professors here, except for Trelawney the miserable bat, but each evening retreated to his own solitude.
The brandy swirled in the glass, reflecting the light of the fire in translucent shimmers. Rather like the colour of Hermione's eyes, close to his as she pulled away from the impulsive embrace. Severus knew that she would submit the best thesis of the year, that he would have no choice but to take her on. That he would be spending two months alone with her in his family manor. That he knew he was was in trouble.