Castaways on a Sullen Sea
By weasleywheezes
Chapter 1 – A Curious Girl
"But why, Hermione?"
"Because, Harry, I need something for extra credit. This would be the perfect addition for my transcripts. There would be no university in the magical world who could deny me if I had it."
Ron looked at his friend as if she had grown a second head. "But…but…Snape!" he said, practically screeching the hated potion mater's name.
Hermione glared at the red head. "I don't think you've noticed that Professor Snape doesn't seem to hate me as tenaciously as he used to?"
Harry laughed. "The only way he could have hated us more is if he poisoned us."
Hermione ignored him. "Harry, I thought at least you would know why it's important to study Occlumency."
"What, are you having some weird dreams or something? Ron said snidely.
The girl sighed. Harry and Ron had been her closest friends, brothers, really, since their first years at Hogwarts. If they didn't understand her thirst for knowledge by now, they would never understand. While Harry and Ron discussed the many awful things they could do to the dungeon while Hermione was learning Occlumency with Snape, she excused herself to her quarters.
She had been named Head Girl and had a beautiful room to herself. Instead of the Gryffindor colours of the rest of the tower, the Head Girl's room was decorated in white, in order for the Head Girl to adapt the room to suit her particular tastes. Hermione brought few things with her. A small collection of porcelain cats sat on a shelf. She hung a picture of her parents on the wall nearest her bed, a lithograph of a French poster on the opposite wall, and had a small collection of pictures on her large, stately desk, mostly of Harry, Ron, the Weasleys and Remus Lupin. A cumbersome willow basket sat in a chair on the corner, where Crookshanks, her cat, slept. Hermione's bed was perfectly made, with an old velvet throw pillow from Dobby the House-elf and a knitted afghan from Mrs. Weasley in Gryffindor colours. She had her books stored on a bookshelf she had charmed to look invisible. Everything was completely orderly. Completely Hermione.
She sat down to write a letter to Viktor Krum, who was now the highest paid Quidditch player in the world. He and Hermione had struck up a friendship three years before, during the Tri-Wizard Championship. For a while, they were quasi-boyfriend/girlfriend, but had decided they were best as friends. He had invited her to the World Cup in Argentina as his guest that year, but she decided to turn his down. Ron had said she had gone nutter, but Ron had been saying that for a while.
Ron admitted to a small crush on Hermione, unit he met a sprightly Hufflepuff named Emma Dinwiddie. Harry was renewing his on again-off again relationship with Ginny Weasley, and thus Hermione was alone, as was the natural order of things.
Not that she minded being alone – on the contrary, she preferred it. She found too much social interaction to be a distraction from her schoolwork. But sometimes…
She looked at herself in the mirror. She wasn't ugly. She had long outgrown her mousy looks, chipmunk teeth, and this summer, her mother took her to a Muggle hairstylist in London, where her thick brown mane was finally tamed. Even Mr. Weasley had mentioned how pretty she looked over the summer. "Hermione, I reckon you'll be scooped up in no time," he had said.
"If it were only that easy," she sighed to herself.
~~
Severus Snape glanced out the window towards the lake. Its mirrored surface hid the cold, dark depths. Severus sometimes entertained the thought that if every professor at Hogwarts were a real part of the landscape, he would be that lake. He stared at the students, picnicking underneath trees; having friendly games of a Muggle sport called football; the younger children playing hide and seek.
"All these children, running around…what do they know about life?" he sneered. "The poor fools. Less than a year ago, they all could have died. One man held their lives in the palm of his withered hand. They've been given a reprieve, but they squander their gifts. Idiots."
He drew the blinds, muttered a soft curse, and then sauntered towards his desk. He sat down in the chair, preparing to gather the essays on wormwood that the fourth year students wrote into his briefcase and take them to his private office. It was at that moment that he heard her.
"Pr-Pr-Professor Snape?" It was almost as if she was afraid he would hex her. "May I have a w-w-word with you?"
Severus turned. Standing in the doorway was Hermione Granger. She looked terrified - her knees turned towards the other, and her lower lip was quivering.
"A student who isn't a complete waste of oxygen," Severus thought to himself. He nearly smiled, but suddenly scowled. "Miss Granger?"
Hermione stared, dumbfounded. Did she almost see a smile cross the man's face? Was he amused at her apprehension?
"Miss Granger, if you are going to stand there like a statue, could you please put a more pleasant look on your face?"
"Yes, sir, Professor Snape…sir." She was overcome. Harry was right. Snape certainly didn't want to teach her anything; he would just as soon strike her dead!
They stood, staring at one another for a moment, each wondering what they other was thinking. The professor broke the silence. "Miss Granger, you have five seconds to say something or else, get out," he said curtly.
Hermione's mind was racing. She found that she couldn't open her mouth to save her life. I'm blowing my chance! she thought. She could hear a chorus of Ron Weasleys in her thoughts: Bloody stupid git!
"Excuse me?" Snape's eyes narrowed slightly. He shot an icy look her way.
Her hand shot to her mouth, and her stomach rapidly felt like lead. "Professor Snape, I didn't…I mean…I wasn't…oh!"
The professor snarled. "Indeed? You are wasting my time, Granger. I'll pretend your little outburst didn't happen." He waved his hand and sat down, believing that with this gesture he would make it clear he had dismissed her.
"I want to study Occlumency!" Hermione yelled, partially out of fear, partially out of anger.
Snape's gaze instantly met hers. "Did Potter put you up to this?"
"Harry told me n-n-not to, Professor. He said you'd be mean to me."
"Of course I'll be mean to you, Granger," he said in a mocking tone. "I'm great, greasy Snape. Isn't that what Weasley calls me? You will have to pay the price for your cheek. Thirty points from Gryffindor, and if you open your smart little mouth to protest, I'll take more. Get out, Miss Granger." He rose to his feet and closed the door in her face.
Every day for five days, Hermione travelled the length of the dungeon to Snape's office, always asking to study Occlumency, and always Snape slammed the door instead of giving her an answer. A few heated arguments, along with close to fifty more points taken from Gryffindor, but still Hermione pursued him. Early Saturday morning, Hermione appeared at Snape's door, ready to make her case before him once again.
"Professor, I would like to discuss this with you," she said, putting her foot in the door before he could close it.
Snape took a deep breath. Granger's persistence was wearing him down, and he wanted to get it over with. "Come in, Miss Granger."
"Professor Snape, I want to study Occlumency. I have discussed this with both Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore, and both have said that I can. It's up to you, sir." Hermione said, her fear having vanished.
"What do you know about the subject?" Snape said wearily.
"Only what Harry has told me, sir."
"Tell me, honestly. Why do you want to study Occlumency?"
Hermione flinched. "I…I just want to learn, Professor."
His eyes burned into her. "Miss Granger…you do realize that means hard work? More studying that you can imagine?"
"Yes."
The potions master sighed. He sounded very tired. "You are aware that studying Occlumency means you will have to spend extra time with me?"
She swallowed hard. "Yes."
Snape moaned. This would prove to be interesting. Her bravery – or was it stubborn foolishness? – was admirable, it impressed him greatly. "Very well, Miss Granger. By your sheer love of learning, and that alone, " he warned, "you have convinced me. I will speak to the Headmaster, but you must report to Professor McGonagall immediately and tell her of your…new activities."
She looked up, a slight grin on her face. Snape assumed his most disdainful posture. "Miss Granger, you are most peculiar. Now get out."