Castaways on a Sullen Sea
By weasleywheezes
DISCLAIMER: My handiwork is based on the works of J.K. Rowling and her Harry Potter series of books. I am not affiliated with Rowling, Scholastic, AOL/Time Warner or its companies, basically anything having to do with the World of Potter. All rights reserved by the owners. Thus ends the Legalese.
Author's Note: Thanks to all who have read and posted their comments so far! I really appreciate it. Hopefully, I won't let anyone down. Things will be slowgoing – I'm trying my hardest to get over some terrible writer's block, and due to circumstances beyond my control, I have been unable to post available chapters at ff.net. Thank you for your patience.
By the way, the poem in Chapter 5 is called "The Tyger" and it's written by William Blake. Sorry this chapter is so short.
Chapter 6 – Trials Turned to Gold
When Hermione returned to Hogwarts, there was a celebration. Lavender Brown, Natalie McDonald, and Ginny filled the Head Girl's room with balloons. Gryffindor Tower was festooned with streamers and enchanted confetti that kept throwing itself in the air, a present from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Ron and Harry hoisted her up on their shoulders and paraded her around the common room. Neville Longbottom gave her a quick hug, smiled at her and offered to help her with Advanced Herbology (the only class in which he was good at). Even the Fat Lady gave Hermione a warm greeting.
She had never missed a place so much. The smiling faces of her classmates warmed her heart. Dennis Creevey and a few of his friends gave Hermione a large bunch of flowers that they had conjured up. She thanked them heartily, even though the colours were all wrong. She knew that the sentiment was real. Hermione was finally able to hug everyone, listen to them tell her how much they missed her, and then slipped away to her room. When she opened her window and smelled the fresh night air of the Hogwarts countryside, she felt like she had returned home. She let her room ventilate, then closed her window to keep the chill out. Exhausted, she fell into bed.
The next morning, she rose bright and early. The excitement of returning to school heightened her appetite. She met Ron and Harry in Gryffindor common and together they went to the Great Hall for breakfast.
Rows of Gryffindors all stood to their feet in cheering the arrival of the trio, along with a large number of Ravenclaws and half of the Hufflepuffs. Only the Slytherins remained seated. Since the exit of Draco, the shifty group became even sneakier. Hermione went red in the face, and sat next to Ginny and Colin Creevey, who was busy taking her picture.
Ron, a self-described "bottomless pit", ate three soft-boiled eggs and a large spoonful of beans while Hermione helped herself to a large portion of waffles, smothered in butter and a dollop of orange marmalade. Food had never tasted so good.
When she looked up from her waffles, she spied Snape glancing at her from the Head Table. She looked him directly in the eye, and suddenly, the two were locked in a type of trance. She could see into his mind. He seemed to be thinking of her – she saw her tear streaked face after their encounter in the woods - then she saw the porcelain mask of the Death Eaters, with Snape's face peeking out from behind it. She gasped. Snape nodded and returned to his porridge.
"Wuff's dat a 'bot?" garbled Ron, whose mouth was stuffed with a pumpkin-almond scone.
"Just looking around," Hermione murmured. She looked toward the Head Table again. Snape was still looking at her, and she could have sworn that she saw his eyes become soft.
Severus knew his first mistake was to make eye contact with her. The memories came flooding back, and he knew that she would see them. God, why did it have to be this moment? Did she blush? Was she smiling at him? His second mistake was to linger on her countenance. She seemed so much more beautiful than before. He knew that she saw that grotesque death masque that he had to wear. The mask revolted him, and he wore it. He knew that Hermione would be disgusted. It was beyond hope. The Dark Mark began to throb, rousing Severus back to reality. He felt sick to his stomach. No matter what he did, he would always have the sting of the Dark Lord haunting him. He wondered if this nightmare would ever end, if Voldemort would finally be vanquished. If he would ever be free to live.
Dumbledore placed his hand on Snape's shoulder, his gentle pressure a balm to Snape's frayed nerves. "Severus, something weighs heavily on your mind. What is it?"
He rubbed his scar to stultify the pain. It was too much…Voldemort. Hermione. Love, hate; it was all too much.
"Nothing I can't handle." Severus had a feeling Dumbledore didn't believe him. In fact, he didn't believe himself.
Even with a month's absence, Hermione was still at the top of the class in every subject aside from Potions, and she was embarking on a weeklong session with Professor Snape that very evening. She was looking forward to the tutoring session, to be alone with him, to perhaps discuss what had happened. While she was gone from Hogwarts, Hermione wished desperately she hadn't given up her Time Turner to the Headmaster. "If only I could have gone back and made a distraction," she thought, "if only I would have stayed the course to Gryffindor Tower.
But then I wouldn't know that I love him." She was surprised at how easily the words came to her now. At first, Hermione thought that perhaps it was an infatuation, merely because Snape had saved her life. Then she realized that she had felt different about him even before that terrifying night. She thought back over the years, and suddenly, she felt ashamed about setting his cloak aflame her first year.
"He mustn't know, he mustn't know!" she whispered to herself over and over as she stalked the hallways of the dungeons to his classroom. When she entered the room, Hermione saw that she was alone. Ever since Draco's assault, she was afraid to be alone anywhere. Feeling like a trapped animal, she hurriedly ran toward the corner of the room, when she saw Snape in his ready room, labelling various jars of supplies.
It was astonishing to see the professor in something other than black robes and cloaks. Snape was almost unrecognisable. Hermione wondered why he didn't dress this way more often. He wore black linen trousers and a French cuff shirt in the Slytherin silvery-green. Snape's hair was pulled back in a ponytail. He looked warm and approachable. Hermione gasped. Snape turned to see who had entered his room, and upon seeing his student, he shut the door of his ready room. Two minutes later, he emerged; hair draped in front of his face, wearing his usual attire, as if he wanted to erase the pleasant image entirely.
"You're early, Miss Granger."
"I was hoping to speak with you, Professor Snape."
Snape lifted a cauldron onto the desk in front of him. "What do you wish to talk about?"
Hermione suddenly felt anxious. "I wanted to talk about…that is I would like to talk to you about what happened."
Snape drew a sharp breath. The inviting and accessible man from moments before had transformed into his usual indifferent self. She was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable. "Miss Granger, what's passed is past. I have no urge to discuss what occurred."
And with that, Hermione knew the conversation was finished.