Chapter Three
Disclaimer: See Chapter One
Severus watched Hermione run away from him, her dark cloak riding the waves of night air behind her and sighed. Severus' duty of care meant he was obligated to follow her, despite clearly understanding that he was most probably among the last people she would wish to see. But he was forced to wonder what she was doing so close to the dungeons in the first place. The initial feeling which Severus supposed was sympathy was astutely replaced with anger. What would Miss Witch Britain 21st Century have to cry about? Her usual grief was not on so blatant a paint palate, so another motive would be responsible for the crocodile tears. It had to have been an act; a simple ploy to catch him off his guard and escape with whatever ingredient it was that she and her compatriots deemed necessary for their nefarious activities.
Oh, he would follow her alright.
Hermione ran without any real purpose or direction. She was simply fleeing unclear exactly where she was fleeing to. Gradually the clicking of her shoes on the well-worn flagstones brought her out of her blind reverie and Hermione stopped and looked around. She found herself in a dank, quiet and mainly unused quadrant of Hogwarts. The ancient paintings and tapestries were frayed and greyed with dust and time, their occupants now seemingly residing elsewhere. The high-arched ceilings were blackened from what looked to be the remnants of some long forgotten fire and spiderwebs clung to the shadows. Hermione half expected the Death of Rats to appear and smile at her, his little scythe relaxed at his side as he regarded her warmly and wondered at her presence in this dead place. Slowly she stepped into a rounded room that looked something like a cell and she wondered for the first time at her brief interlude with Professor Snape. The way he had looked at her momentarily before recapturing her usual persona did not make her feel as though she were as insignificant as a dropped potion ingredient crushed under his shoe. However, the snarl was promptly reattached to his face, although his voice had not matched his look of disdain. The voice was as much black silk as ever, but refined and hot in a Jeremy Irons way. Hermione shook her head and supposed hormones and emotional overload were the joint causes of that thought.
Her tears were still failing, but it was just physiology as the emotions behind them had ceased. They had been replaced with the cruel emptiness that always made you feel spelaean. Hermione had always likened it to an emotion sword being thrust into her side, ensuring that she was effusively dead. How could Harry have been so cruel? It was an action she would almost dub expected from Ron, who usually had the emotional maturity of a Billy-wig; but she had always believed that Harry understood her better emotionally. "Well that's one more false ideal squashed Hermione." She muttered and sighed so deeply that anyone within earshot would have received a good dose of empathetic grief. Suddenly Hermione felt very little and very alone and a new motive emerged for the tears.
Severus pondered his own sanity as he followed the circles of dust creating Celtic patterns in the air before him. It was an unused area of the castle and one that Severus semi-regularly patrolled for hormonal teenagers and various other illicit arrangements. It would be close to perfect for potion making, but Severus was no longer convinced with his own conviction. Hermione was excessively clever and yet appeared to be making no attempt to cover her tracks. She had upset the still air in the sparse section of the castle and her magic trail was very potent. Perhaps she had forgotten to cast the viscerae spell that would have made her virtually undetectable. If there was one thing that Hermione Granger was not, it was thoughtless. She may possess the Gryffindor habit of jumping in headfirst with minimal consideration of the possible consequences, however activities that were to remain hidden were generally covered by all facets. That was how she had managed to get away with bloomslang skin so many years before and had escaped with much more since. Severus always had his suspicions, but never any evidence to support it.
Severus found her, balled at one edge of a dome shaped room, tears staining her face, which was mostly hidden by the mass of honey fuzz. She was evidently very alone and definitely had no potion making intentions whatsoever. Her sadness penetrated the dust, the air, his skin. She was like some strange X-Woman mutant with the ability to project emotions onto others, debilitating them. Severus knew that her barricaded world, which had until today only been chewed upon had suddenly found its walls smashing down spectacularly. The pain that she had failed to show for two years had obviously compounded; and it was so tangible that he felt very sorry for the woman-child before him, who was currently looking far more child than woman. Reluctantly Severus crouched down to her level, his knees creaking in protest. Tentatively he placed his hand on her arm. This time she noticed the human contact s a tear streaked face looked up at him with liquid caramel eyes glistening from too many tears.
"It is a nightmare I cannot escape." Hermione croaked. Severus didn't know what to say and probably wouldn't think of anything appropriate anyway so he opted for silence.
"Every morning I wake up feeling normal for the two whole seconds where my half asleep brain forgets that my existence was ruined by some arsehole in a car. Two whole seconds. That is until the thump of the empty chasm reinserts itself in my chest and remains until I fall asleep only to become my parasite again the following morning. How could Harry have been so thoughtless? Usually if something like this happens I would go to my parents. But...but..." A mixture of hiccups and tears ceased Hermione's current banter which was barely comprehensible to Severus through her current voice.
Severus knew that Hermione hadn't allowed herself to properly mourn the loss of her parents and now more than ever it had become highland air clear that the loss was slowly and completely consuming her. She and Harry had evidently argued about it. Boy Wonder probably thought it was time Hermione got over her grief. He was right, but more than likely went about it self-righteously and came out looking like a complete prat. Hermione needed to allow herself to heal, as she didn't realise what was crouching beside her was close to potentially being her reflection in him for not learning to forgive oneself and thus heal. Severus accepted it as his penance; the albatross forever adhered to his soul. But Hermione was highly unlikely to follow his path and if things went favourably she had the opportunity for far more happiness in her future. Severus sighed in a manner reminiscent of Hermione's own and she looked up at him as his own sadness and regret hit her. Impulsively she threw her arms around him, the child desperately needing reassurance that everything would turn out for the best.
Severus initially froze, so inappropriate and unusual was this action from a student. The Slytherin girls would barely ever seek his advice and for most part their cold exteriors were nothing compared to their glaciered souls. They were, in many ways tougher than the boys, primarily because they had little other choice. So here this Gryffindor Head Girl with her arms around her Potions Master sobbing like a toddler was completely throwing Severus. He instinctively went to push her off, uncomfortable with the proximity; but rapidly realised this would not be beneficial to the girl locking him in her slender arms. Slowly and reluctantly he dropped from his cramping knees to his arse and found himself wishing that his buttocks were more rotund. He sat cross-legged beside her as he gently rested his arms around Hermione's gently shaking form. As she habitually rested her head into his chest he noticed that she smelt of English Lavender and Lime, it was a nice, clear scent. Hermione rested her ear over his heart, which had suddenly increased its tempo.
"I used to fall asleep like this." Hermione whispered to Severus' stomach. "I would lay like this for hours with Dad when I was little. We would watch television together and I would rest my head over his heart, just listening. I always felt so safe that I would just doze off, his heartbeat being the last thing that I would remember." Her sobbing was steadily increasing again and Severus could sense her working herself back up for another free fall of tears.
"Shhh." He said, wondering if it was the first time he had utilised that noise and hoped he didn't sound too much like an angry snake. He started rocking her gently in the hug, hoping it would calm her as he remembered reading something about the rocking motion of hugging stimulating pleasure centres linked to the vestibular system, making it a good relaxant in times like these.
Unsure of himself, Severus silently cleared his throat. "My Grandfather was a brilliant storyteller. One of those people who could completely drag you into the tale. He always sat in this brilliantly hand carved cherrywood rocking chair, pipe lazily held in his left hand, waistcoat crooked. I was often left with him as a young boy while my parents were off performing various duties for whatever Dark Lord they were the sycophants of. While my parents were gone I would sit between him and the fireplace and barely move, completely enthralled in the fantastical tales of my only confidant."
Hermione lifted her head and looked at the man beside her. His eyes were black coals as ever, but glowing with an internal flame few had seen. "Go on." She prompted eventually
"He always edited the stories to suit my age, so when I was very young they were tales of pirates and adventure, rather than of Grindelwald and the havoc he created. Following Dark wizards is a Snape family tradition and expectation, Miss Granger. When I was seventeen he was murdered for defecting from some group he was a part of and of which I had no knowledge. Despite my earlier care for the man I hated him for keeping part of his life secret from me. I refused to go to any service for him and would not go anywhere near his house, which I had inherited. It took me far too long to open myself enough to mourn the loss of the man who was my true father figure in many ways. When I was twenty-five I finally went to his house and actually went inside. Despite the dust that had gathered over his things it was like he had never left and I was sorry for not saying goodbye properly." Severus shook his head unconsciously, wondering if he has been afflicted with some madness, normally he would not have divulged this information had he been tortured.
Sensing that Severus was not going to say anything else Hermione slowly spoke. "Harry and I had an argument tonight. I think he was trying to help me, but I don't want to be helped." Another sob escaped "I want to pretend it never happened. I want to have a normal life with normal parents."
Severus sighed. "There is no such thing as normal Miss Granger. While I have little tolerance for the boy I do not doubt Mr. Potter's loyalty to you as a friend. I am assuming that Wonder boy was rather self-righteous in his attitude and attempted to draw a parallel between his parents death and the demise of his own."
Hermione unwrapped herself from Severus and nodded.
"Of which there should be minimal comparison because the given circumstances are vastly different. However if I am to anticipate Mr. Potter's words I think he may have been accurate about one thing. No matter how much to want to hold on, you have to let go and move on, if your parents are anything like what you used to be I imagine that they would be distraught at discovering you in your current mind frame."
Hermione stood up slowly and regarded her Potion's Master thoughtfully. He was right of course, but that meant so was Harry. The tiny part of her brain not consumed by grief knew her parents would be horrified to see their beloved daughter in her current state.
Severus ungracefully stood up also, various clicking noises emanating from different body parts in protest. "Miss Granger, I would suggest it is a good idea if I proceed to walk you to your dormitory. Do try and get some sleep. I do not think it conducive for either of us to end up ill as a result of staying in this chill for too long."
Silently they walked back towards the Head Girl's room, but the usual discomfort associated with Severus walking with any student was absent. Just before she stepped into her private quarters she turned around.
"Professor Snape?"
"Yes, Miss Granger, what is it?"
Hermione chewed on her lip. "Um, do you think it would be possible for me to arrange a trip to my home? I have some things that I believe I should do."
"I will arrange it with Professor Dumbeldore if you wish."
Hermione nodded and Severus turned back toward his own rooms. Just as he rounded the first corner. Hermione again broke the silence.
"Professor Snape."
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Thank you."
Authors Notes:
The Death of Rats is an allusion to Terry Prachett's brilliant Discworld series.
There was also a very obvious allusion to Coleridge's "Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner."
I was totally blown away by the response to Chapter 2, so I just want to say Thanks to everyone who reviewed.
Lestats Cladia: Thanks heaps and here it is.
Severessa: Thank you very much for your compliments. I am putting a bit of emotion in this story. I promise that it won't be all dark and hopefully the rift between Harry and Hermione will heal.
Thouandl: Your forgiveness is happily received. I am glad you think this story had potential and thank you for your compliments about the argument between Hermione and Harry. They are both very powerful and it's bound to have interesting repercussions when they lose control.
Midnight Lilly: Ron was rather quiet throughout the fight, maybe he is going to have his say a bit later. Harry is sort of thinking about wheat Hermione is feeling, but doesn't articulate it especially well. No you don't ever get over the loss of someone you love, you just learn to grieve and get by without them.
Carol: The tenses in Chapter 2 were hard to do well because the chapter was part tenses and further past tense and I had to try and differentiate between the two. I also didn't do as much editing as usual, which was obvious apparently ;). You are right, there will be repercussions from the scene of uncontrolled power and they may be long lasting. I don't think anyone has ever thanked me for writing before like you did; so I thank you for that huge compliment.
Becky-Kelly: Here it is, I hope you enjoy.
Imhilien: Thank you for your review and I hope this chapter was up to standard.
I have a couple of large assessments for uni due in the next couple of weeks so this story is going to have to sit on the backburner until after the 20th September. I am sorry about the wait and will endeavour to get back to it ASAP.