Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the great and powerful Oz, I mean Rowling.
Don't forget to read and review! I'll try to post a new chapter this weekend. Quickly getting to the fall term soon.
Chapter Six: GuidanceHermione, I overheard something. Ask me later.
Mrs. Black's words swirled in her mind as Hermione drifted
off to sleep. There wasn't much
she could've overheard. Downstairs
was being utilized mostly in quiet study. They had cooked dinner and had occasional visits from Ron, Ginny, and
Harry, but for the most part, their conversations were benign. What did she overhear?
The only thing of importance was maybe the Order meeting— but it was held in the warded kitchen. And there weren't any portraits in the kitchen to elicit a record from.... But she thought about Severus waiting downstairs and it hit her. The study was at the foot of the landing…
She opened her eyes as if she'd barely left the evening hours and sat up to see an annoyed Buckwheat. She smiled after noticing he had finally given up, seeing the pecked remains of shortbread left on the table in her room. She ran downstairs, and with no one around, she opened the door finally allowing him an exit.
She ran back upstairs and sat in the antique chair facing Mrs. Black.
"Hey, watch it Missy!" Phineas said in a muffled tone.
Oops, "Sorry." She had sat right in front of him, ignoring any respectful… hey! It was a painting not a person! Well, in the magical community different rules of etiquette applied.
She moved the chair to address both and waited for Mrs. Black to begin.
"I'm not sure I want to tell you now." She said haughtily.
"You are a fickle woman, witch! Last night you almost had me convinced…" Phineas picked up the thread of their previous argument.
Hermione looked really exasperated. "Just tell me, please?"
"SHE'S A MUDBLOOD!" Mrs. Black screamed.
Hermione stood up, disappointed in the giant step backward. She thought they had made progress.
"STOP CALLING ME THAT! And stop talking like I'm not even here! Why do you hate me? What do you have against Muggleborns anyway?" Hermione demanded. Shit, did I just open a can of worms?
Mrs. Black was all too happy to oblige her.
"First of all, your foul blood has polluted us leaving its black mark on the once powerful magical community for generations." Hermione's jaw stiffened and eyes rolled, her arms crossed in a defensive posture before her. "Not that is your fault dear. You can't help it. We didn't formerly have so few magical lines, and many prominent wizarding families were persecuted and killed off by Muggles in a huge war long ago. Now look at us! As the blood of the non-magical community slowly worms it's way through our world we have become weaker. Sometimes it appears subtle, sometimes it's more obvious, but it is happening."
"I have never heard such elitist, self-righteous, bigoted… crap in all my life! What happened were not just persecutions but the Goblin Rebellions. And there have been more losses of strong magical abilities in the magical community due to deformities and squibs resulting from pure blood marriages—effectively, inbreeding is weakening you more than us evil filthy Muggles ever did." Hermione was a little out of breath in the fury of her debate with the portrait.
"It's just a matter of time—your blood will be purged…"Mrs. Black spat.
"And you support Voldemort? A Mudblood?" Hermione baited.
"SHUT UP!!!"
"How conveeenient!" Hermione drawled. "So you discard your ideals whenever it suits you? Tell me, how do you justify that one?"
"He was chosen by Salazar Slytherin himself! Only he could bless a Muggleborn with such a gift. And look, he is leading the army to purge us of the Mudbloods once and for all!"
She could hardly think of the Death Eaters as an army. It was no more than a fanatical terrorist group. Highly organized yes, but they were terrorists.
"Harry is a parselmouth too. Do you think Salazar, from beyond the grave, " she rolled her eyes dramatically, "bestowed him—also a wizard with Muggle blood— with such a gift? And he's expected to defeat your precious leader?!" Take that.
"It's useless to talk to such a thick, bull-headed…"
"Mrs. Black. Stuff a turpentine soaked rag in it. Miss Granger, I suspect we will never resolve such a debate today, or perhaps ever. Agree to disagree, please— and let us move on."
Mrs. Black and Hermione grew quiet but were pouting or huffing with whatever dignity remained.
Hermione moved the chair back to its previous location and sighed.
As she returned to her bedroom, a voice stopped her.
"Hermione? Come here."
She looked in surprise at Mrs. Black, now calm after the storm.
"Yes?"
"You're in trouble I'm afraid. And while I want to be rid of all of the Muggle filth…" Phineas shot her a look. "…I cannot bear to hear of women being used in such a degrading way."
Hermione's mouth hung a little open as she listened.
"I overheard Professor Snape and Albus Dumbledore downstairs talking about virgin sacrifices. Not just one, but many, for the purpose of which they are still trying to uncover. They are expected to produce an entire roster of students who are virgins, Muggleborn and pure-blooded alike, and give it over to the Dark Lord."
She was right, this was bad. Her eyes glistened in fear as she soaked in the new information. The detector, would they use it on students? Or were they just keeping it from Malfoy? Maybe both…
"What else did you hear? Did they talk about Pansy?"
"The daughter of the Parkinson's! I swear if I was alive I would torture that Patrick Parkinson to death. I bet his wife doesn't support this plot. His own daughter! You know Hermione, this wouldn't be the first time a Death Eater has sacrificed one of his own kin for some short-term gain.
Stupid men. We've lived in the dark ages for too long. Patriarchy has held us back... always a Minister not a Mistress? The huge statue of a wizard in the MOM, the witch in a more submissive pose… did you notice? Women traded from father to their husbands like some kind of property. Taking the virginity of a young lady was a punishable offense at one point. You may treat sex casually in the Muggle world, but the first union of a married couple was supposed to provide additional magical strengthening of the marriage bond. Saving your innocence is important magic here. It is a shame that knowledge has been lost in modern society."
"Not all Muggles treat sex so casually, Mrs. Black." Hermione offered.
"Well now, Hermione, you may say I am contradicting myself, making another convenient exception. But that is exactly what I am suggesting you do."
"What?" She couldn't believe her ears.
"I can only hazard a guess as to what they might be planning, but don't you let them. You don't want…" a edgy Mrs. Black looked far off at one point. "You don't want… your innocence taken in such a way. You choose how you want that experience to be. Take back your power by making sure they can't take it from you!"Mrs. Black quickly disappeared form the portrait.
Hermione was stunned. She shook her head when Phineas spoke up.
"Miss Granger, Mrs. Black has had a difficult life. And she does support the actions of the Dark Lord. But she is a feminist to the bone. Women will always come first for her. Take her advice and be careful. As a former Headmaster of Hogwarts, I know you will do what you must to prevent such a travesty from happening."
Snape read again the delivered scroll, trying to pull from it the clues about the calligrapher's identity. The letter itself was an intimate thing, speaking personally to him about a work he obviously (she?) understood. Maybe he was a potions master? Nah… they were too few… and who had time?
What other occupation could they have which would permit them to work on such a volume and complete it in four short weeks?
He was a bit miffed to think he might have purchased the work of a novice, him being only the second client. But he had faith in Ms. Renou. She obviously thought highly of the artist. And what would he dare not share publicly? That line had him stumped.
And… 'lucky guess'? A casual phrase.
Gesupelte… The thought of being compared to or praised by him still flattered Snape to death.
He put the letter in the drawer of his roll top secretary. He'd never discover the identity of the artist from a cryptic letter.
Give it up.
Hermione worked on the manuscript, making more errors as her mind wandered. What would she do? She had no prospects or desire to lose her virginity yet to anyone. Not that she hadn't been fantasizing lately. She wanted to talk to Pansy.
The summer was elongating painfully. The second transcription of the book was not nearly as interesting as the first. She had papers all over the room. The book lay scattered in the four corners on the floor, in various stages of completion.
Inking… drying… illustrations… proofing.
A rap at her door reminded her she hadn't locked it and she raced to the door to keep it shut.
"Who is it?"
"Open up, Miss Granger,"commanded the silky voice.
Shit! She locked the door quickly. "Wait a second… I'm not decent..."
Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap… she thought as she imagined Snape's impatient foot tapping, and his fingers drumming on crossed arms.She collected all of the papers, slipping acid free paper on top of the wet ones. She hoped for the best. God, that was a lot of work. Please don't smear.
She tucked them in her trunk and grabbed a towel to indicate she planned to take a shower.
She opened the door to face the stern man. "It's afternoon, Miss Granger."
"Sorry, I just got caught up with a bit of light reading."
He laughed inwardly. The girl never read anything which could be considered light. "I was told that you needed to make a trip to Diagon Alley."
She had asked Molly to take her but didn't expect Professor Snape to do such a thing. "Sir? Yes, sir."
"How long will it take you to get ready?" He asked brusquely.
"Just fif-fifteen m-minutes maybe. I'll be quick about it." Hermione stammered.
"See that you do, I have more important things to do."
"I could wait for Remus or Molly to take me, it'd be no problem." Don't want to be a little inconvenience to you, you greasy bat.
"No, I'll be downstairs."
She finished up in the shower and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. It was hot outside and that begged for comfortable clothing. She wondered how even in summer he could wear the complete ensemble of a stuffy button-up suit, and robes in late June.
He'd seen her in pajamas. God, she must of looked like a crazy woman with her mad wooly hair, oversized tee and pin-striped pants. Not the image she wanted to leave with her recent crush. Romance was dead.
She toweled dried her hair as best she could and combed through it easily. Thank you Sleekeasy's! She secured her hair on the back of her head with a large silver barrette.
"Be careful," Mrs. Black warned before she departed. Hermione thought on it and wondered if perhaps that's why she was being escorted by Snape and not Mrs. Weasley.
"Miss Granger," he said looking down at her. "I hope you're not planning a repeat of your previous misfortunate illness. I thought you hated the purging potion."
Oh no. Her right two fingers betrayed her as she noted the black stains on her calluses from writing.
"No sir. Just writing a letter. Excuse me." And she ran to the kitchen sink to remove the telling ink.
She grabbed the acetone she'd stashed earlier from beneath the sink, and worked at the stubborn stains until they turned gray and disappeared.
"Where are we going today?" he inquired.
"I need to make a trip to Gringotts." This was going to be interesting.
When they stepped out into the fresh air, Snape noticed her sigh of liberation. Hermione smiled and let the sun fall on her face, looking up at clear blue sky. It was a beautiful summer day, and she could hear chirping and smell the grass of the nearby park. She hadn't been outside in weeks. The Headquarters had been both a refuge and a prison. People don't function well in cages.
Soon they were there, in the large marble hall filled with goblins and wizards and witches. Snape practically shielded her from view as he took inventory of who was present. He didn't want them running into anyone like Malfoy.
"Your key, Miss Granger?" The goblin croaked, with calculated look at Professor Snape. He was trying to add things up as was expected in his profession. Her small hand produced the tiny key and they were off through the torch lit stone passageway to the railway.
The rickety cart looked like an untrustworthy vehicle. Hermione had ridden before, but her stomach lurched with the thought of it. She had made the mistake of looking down out of the cart once seeing the cavernous pit below her. It seemed to have no floor and it reminded her of the Mines of Moria in Tolkien's work.
"Professor Snape, I don't mean to be rude, but could I have some privacy please?" She asked a little too shyly. The familiar pouch weighed in her pocket. She couldn't allow him to see.
"No, Miss Granger. You may not. I assure you I have no desire to pry into your financial affairs." And he seated himself behind the goblin.
Damn. She squeezed in, and as she was seated, the cart shot off like a rocket.
One speed only, she remembered. This is the portkey that doesn't end… yes it goes on and on my friend…
Finally the cart stopped, and she felt her body involuntarily lurch forward. Stupid inertia.
She stepped out of the vehicle and looked at the huge bronze door. She hadn't much money yet in there, though that was something being rectified by none other than the client seated behind her. She quickly asked the goblin in a hushed tone, "Could I go in there alone?" she asked.
The goblin knew his job too well and got her meaning. He took her key and opened it just a crack, following in behind her.
Snape was not at all pleased. This place was a fortress, but he wanted the girl in his sights at all times.
She removed the pouch from her pocket and crouched low to the floor, dumping out the contents, a surprising number of gold Galleons for such a small bag. They immediately straightened themselves in neat piles, and Hermione knew the coins had immediately been accounted for upstairs.
She left with just enough money to finish her shopping. She had emergency money in her school trunk at home. Hermione exited the vault with a relieved feeling, knowing the substantial sum was safe and that Snape was none the wiser of his contribution to the Hermione Granger scholarship fund.
Returning to the cobblestones of the street, Hermione was again aware of Mrs. Black's comment— though she imagined she was actually suggesting for her to be wary of Professor Snape, as well as any other outside influences.
He was a Death Eater, but he wouldn't… would he?
She knew sacrifices had to be made, but she couldn't bring herself to consider the painful possibility that he may be required to sacrifice a student to further the cause.
She was lost in thought as they walked toward Eeylops Owl Emporium. There was a Stationer in the rear, the paper company which supplied her ink, quills and other needs. It was making her a little nervous that she would be purchasing things in plain view of the Professor. Bizarre really.
"Professor Snape? So good to see…"
Hermione caught up from behind and stared into the bewildered eyes of Katie Renou.
Oh shit.
"Ms. Renou," he said politely shaking her hand. "This is Hermione Granger, a student of mine from school."
"Pleasure to meet you Ms. Renou." Thank you, we've met.
"Yes, how do you do?" She replied formally. Hermione nodded. She knew this would end up for discussion later.
"Good day to you both."
Katie left a bit confused. The panic in Hermione Granger's face told her right away that the girl knew her employer. They would need to talk about this.
Hermione slipped through the rows of flapping feathers to the back of the store.
"Ah, Miss Granger!" the overly friendly storeowner exclaimed.
Please don't be too familiar…
"What will it be today…"
She stopped him quickly, before he said "the usual?"— grateful that Snape was perusing the wares behind her instead of participating in the display.
"A set of new nibs, a large tube of jet-black gouache, oxide of chromium, and another ream of… heavy text weight," she said under her breath, "natural." He looked at her a bit funny. She sure was an unusual girl.
Mr. Lemmings went behind the counter and retrieved the usual, slipping the items into an opaque bag with the slender box of paper. Hermione paid him and pulled the drawstring on her purchase shut. There was a mound of scrap paper, which was intended for customers who wished to experiment with a collection of writing implements on display. She took a piece of scrap and scrawled a quick note to Katie.
She rolled it tiny and pocketed it, walking into Flourish and Blotts next door with Snape.
"Hello." She said to the short man in front of her, eyes wandering around for a glimpse of Katie. Mr. Holmes was not the person she was looking for but before she knew it she was being ushered back to the special orders desk. Once again Snape was distracted by books. Thank God for that.
"We have your special order ready, Miss Granger."
Good grief, did everyone know her by name? Snape thought as he overheard part of the conversation. Well, this is a bookstore.
Hermione quickly recalled her request in her last letter to Katie Renou and winced.
"Here it is… unusual book…" She rudely snatched it before he could discuss it, and surreptitiously slipped it in her bag.
"Thank you Mr. Holmes—how much do I owe you?"
"Twenty-five Galleons." Jiminy Cricket that was a lot.
She reached for her purse and forked over the sum. She walked a bit to the side, making the slightest eye contact with Katie who was peering through the crack in her door behind the reception desk. Hermione retrieved the tiny scroll, showing it to her between her fingers, her body between Snape's turned back and Ms. Renou's rear office.
There was a decorative black vase on the desk, being used as a receptacle for quills. Hermione dropped her message in the vase and left. Katie exited her office and fished for it amongst the utensils.
I swear, I haven't said a thing. He doesn't know. The manuscript was in his handwriting, I couldn't help but figure it out.
'Inflamare' Katie burned the scrap of parchment, a little bit more satisfied that at least half of their arrangement was confidential. She took her work seriously, and had no doubt that certain secrets could be deadly if revealed.
Long ago, few people had the benefit of the knowledge of how to read or write. Communities therefore turned to their ministers or area leaders to read correspondence or write for them, making them targets too often for spies wishing to intercept especially sensitive messages, especially during times of war. She hoped this would turn out okay.
Hermione was glad to get back to the flat.
"Thank you for escorting me, Professor."
He nodded his agreement. She adjourned upstairs to her work desk where she laid out her supplies after locking the door.
She worked for hours and stood up to stretch after a moment of stiffness. She rifled through her books and uncovered her Bible, which was a painful reminder of the absence of worship during her summer. She didn't have opportunity to attend mass during the school year, but regularly attended and participated in the activities at St. Peter's when school wasn't in session. Meditating on the problems facing her in the upcoming year, she knew she needed guidance. She needed more than solitary prayer at the foot of her bed each night. She had been contemplating her abstinence, and how it would change her if she made another choice.
Hermione heard voices downstairs and quickly put her belongings away for fear that she might repeat the past afternoon's events.
Just as she closed her trunk, there was a rapping at her door.
This time it was Harry and Ron, Ginny standing behind— all grinning.
"Hey 'Mione!"
"Hey you guys." She grinned widely with a hop in her feet.
Harry dropped a suitcase and a bag on the floor in front of him, wearing a stupid grin on his face.
"Guess what?" He hinted. She looked at his bags, trunk and Hedwig in the hall.
"No way! Really?" He nodded, and she flung her arms around Harry's neck. She was so glad for the companionship in such an isolated existence, but also found herself a bit concerned as to how she'd finish her work.
They all piled in. Laughing about silly things, the boys argued about Quidditch, 'the only real sport'— while Ginny and Hermione sat to whisper about their previous discussion.
"I bought a book today on the power of women," Hermione pointed to her bag.
"Really? Have you had a chance to look at it yet?" Ginny muttered.
"Not yet, but I will later tonight maybe."
She ate dinner with Remus, Molly and her pals. Hermione remembered her feelings of loss, and gentle tugging of her faith.
After supper, she pulled Remus aside and asked him in a pleading tone,
"Remus, I really need to go to church."
He looked a bit surprised, but fatherly in a way as he regarded her. "Hermione…"his tone suggested he might refuse her. She had a tear in her eye.
Please don't say no. She knew she needed to be careful, but felt she should at least be able to worship in a Muggle cathedral. She'd stay in the back, out of sight.
"Please Remus, I need to go to mass," she implored.
Remus Lupin was a wizard but was always respectful of other's customs. He looked at her again with concern, and relented. "Alright. I'll see what I can do."
Hermione was relieved and excited, jumping up a bit, kissing him innocently on his cheek. "Thank you Remus. Sunday mass at St. Peter's is at 9:30. Can I go this Sunday?"
He nodded with a smile, surprised at her youthful energy and amazed at how her whole demeanor had changed with what seemed such a simple matter.
Saturday morning she woke to Harry shaking her shoulder. Her lack of sleep at night rather encouraged late sleeping, but she was denied.
"Hermione? Wake up. I have a surprise for you."
She opened one eye and saw him looking eagerly at her. She stretched with a yawn and sat up.
"Yeah, I'm up." Kind of. "Surprise?"
He held up a large brown paper bag between them and pulled it out of her grasp.
"Can't I see?" She reached.
He got up and walked to the door. "Downstairs…" he called behind him, luring her into the hall playfully.
"This better be good," she mumbled with another yawn stumbling down the stairs.
"Don't you worry. It is, I assure you."
She walked by the study barely registering the presence of the potions master in the reading chair. God, so early? Man, get some sleep will you?
Crap, and here we are in pajamas again. What-ever.
Harry unleashed the masterpiece… the glory of Braun.
"Oh my God, I think I love you!" Hermione exclaimed.
A real coffee maker. No more coffee from the tip of Molly's wand. No offense Molly.
"And…" he pulled two one kilo bags of coffee from the bag. "We can't have this without these."
Hermione snatched them and inhaled deeply. Oh….oh!!!!! She was as giddy as she could be. "Real coffee! REAL!" Ooh, Cinnamon Hazelnut… and Columbian. It was going to be a good morning.
Harry nodded, and then the air went out of her sails. She held up the plug and waved it at Harry. "No electricity."
"Oh well," he said. "Maybe we can wait for Remus or Molly to come magic it for us?"
"Wait! I got it…" Harry looked puzzled as she left for the study.
"Professor?"
"Hmmm?" He looked up from his book. Pajamas again, didn't this girl ever get dressed?
She made note of his disapproving look. She sighed. "It's seven a.m. Professor, and I live here."
He shrugged. "What do you want?"
"Could you help us with a bit of magic?"
He was about to object, but she interrupted any snarky retort that was in the making.
"I'll make it worth your while." She teased. That earned an eyebrow raise. She loved it when he did that. "Sir, how do you take your coffee?"
He followed the overly confident girl into the kitchen where, to his displeasure, he saw Harry and an abnormally large black piece of plastic with a carafe.
"Please sir, we need magic to make it work." Hermione asked.
He sighed and muttered a spell. Soon enough, Hermione filled it with water, measuring three spoons of coffee into the filter. While it brewed she pulled out three cups, and then sighed when she noticed their small size.
"Professor Snape, could you make these larger? Like the size of mugs?" She suggested.
Understanding her goal, he indulged her request and muttered, "Engorgio." They grew to an adequate size and Snape tolerated her resulting glee. He too liked caffeine—large quantities were often necessary for late night reading. And early morning reading.
Harry took his black, and Snape accepted cream in his without sugar. Hermione took both. The smell was intoxicating and all three sipped.
The coffee was superb. Snape had frequented coffee houses before, but they were the wizard variety. He definitely needed to get out more. He took his cup and returned to his book in the study leaving the aroma of coffee in his wake.
"Thank you, Harry. Thank you, thank you, thank you." Hermione professed. She would survive the summer.
"Hermione, I wanted to ask you something." Harry mashed his lips together.
"Sure, shoot."
"I was wondering… did you notice Ginny last night? I mean, do you think she was acting a bit differently?"
You mean did I notice the shameless flirting looks and elbow jabbing? Duh. Who could miss it?
"Um, no. Not really. What are getting at?" Now you're just being horrible Hermione. Give him a break. Nooo, make him say it.
"Do you think she likes me?"
Hermione laughed at the image of Harry passing her a note in class with check boxes under the question. "Honestly Harry, you can be so thick sometimes."
"C'mon I brought coffee. Please talk to me."
"So you like her. Finally." Hermione challenged.
He breathed nervously in his mug. "Yeah, I think she's…"
"Yes… go on,"she prodded.
"She's beautiful."
"Noticed finally, huh?" Hermione smiled and shook her head. Silly boy is finally catching up. Would they always be so slow to pick up in things? Then she thought about Snape. Would he notice? Nah. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Hermione— hang it up…
"Do you think she'll go out with me?" Harry asked.
"Before or after Ron hexes you?" She sipped.
"You think he'd really do that? I'd be better than Colin Creevy, or Neville, or that Michael whats-his-face…"
"Corner. Michael Corner."
"Yeah him. So do you?"
"Do I what?' You're so mean.
"Think she'll go out with me?"
"Who?" Now you're just being cruel.
She burst out in a fit of giggles at his expression, laughed out loud. He slugged her playfully on the arm.
"I'm sorry, just kidding. Kidding! Yeah I do, Harry. She likes you. I'm surprised she hasn't asked you already. She's not shy, y'know? But maybe she was worried you'd say no."
"I won't say no."
Hermione wasn't sure she liked the sound of that.
On came Sunday, and Snape was not at all pleased of how his morning would be spent. Remus had accompanied Hermione to a mass at an enormous cathedral. St. Peter's was no small church. Having attended before, Snape knew Remus could not fully appreciate the crowd the historic house of worship drew every Sunday. Snape had objected furiously to her request, but Remus insisted and had in fact already agreed—without consulting anyone else. Merlin, under the circumstances, can't the wolf at least exercise some good judgment?
Snape would assume a role suited to him. After the debacle at Rue Nineteen, Snape wanted as much security as possible. He hid in a dark corner, where he was quickly and surprisingly spotted by her.
"Professor Snape, how good of you to join us again. I thought you hadn't taken my advice…" Sister Mary addressed him through her kind blue eyes. Crows feet were good to her, enchanting her features beyond age. She wore her faith like a robe.
"Yes. Thank you."
She looked at him carefully and decided to let him do what made him comfortable. "Here is information on today's homily." She bowed to him and left. He was not noticed again.
Hermione sat in the back pews with Remus a few feet away. He gave her some privacy for her worship for which she was grateful.
The service began and she knelt to pray before mass on the kneeler provided. She bowed silently, opening her heart and mind for the Holy Spirit to speak to her, ready to hear the Word.
She sang the choral responses and psalms, unaware that her small practiced notes were being heard by another man through a device hidden under her collar.
Severus Snape was not a religious man, though he did study the magical abilities of mythical creatures that had gone before. Many witches and wizards prayed to various Gods or Goddesses, performing rituals and ceremonies during the solstices or other holidays which honored nature or some such thing. He felt that his gave proper gratitude to the higher power which provided such benefits essential to his most loved work.
In spring, he would sit on a large moss covered boulder on a hill in the Forbidden Forest, watching from high above— waiting for the first rays of sunlight to open the petals of the rare Oenothera speciosa, a wildflower, a variety of primrose or buttercup which mostly grew in South America, not in England. The blooms lasted only one day and as he witnessed the frosty pink petals blowing freely in the spring breeze, how could he not believe that something greater than magic was at work here?
So he looked on in awe as he witnessed the personal display of her faith as Hermione knelt to pray, reading through the scriptures as she followed along with the priest. So innocent, the young woman was wearing a formal silk dress with lace collar, and wore a gold medal of the Virgin Mary around her neck. Snape heard her soft songs of prayer and reverent posture— kneeling at the end of the pew, crossing herself, and saw her receive communion at the front of the cathedral.
At the end of the service, she left Remus seated in the empty pew, and approached Sister Mary who hugged her in motherly fashion.
"We've missed you dear. I expect you've had other obligations?" She suggested politely.
"Yes Sister."Hermione's eyes were glassy. She came for guidance and she could trust Sister Mary Josephine.
"My dear, you look positively shaken. What is troubling you, child?"
She could barely articulate the situation under the circumstances. "I have an important decision to make,"Snape heard her whisper in cautious tones.
What on earth was bothering her?
"I don't know what to do," she explained in desperation. "If I make one choice, I follow the teachings of the church. But if I make the other choice, I may be safer. How can the immoral choice be a good one?"
Snape stiffened at her cryptic explanation. How much did she know?
Sister Mary considered her in the most affectionate and loving way. She did exude peace through her fingertips. She patted the girl's clasped fingers. "My dear, you must have faith. The right decision will come to you. It will. You seem confused, hmm? Prayer will give you comfort and guidance. You need a longer period of time to think on this. May I suggest the Prayer of St. Thomas Aquinas?"
"Yes. Thank you, Sister Mary. I will." It wasn't quite the answer she was expecting, but she felt much better than she had before entering the service.
Go on child, all will be well. Peace be with you.
Hermione walked the familiar path to the rear of the chapel and drifted out of Snape's sight. Seeing where she was headed and that it was empty, he only moved slightly for a better glance.
Hermione knelt in front of the Pricket stand and said the rosary, lighting the votives one by one as she customarily did. Lily Potter, James Potter, Sirius Black, Cedric Diggory, Grandma MeMe … And she lit one for her friends and Albus Dumbledore.
Pausing a moment, she lit one for Pansy Parkinson as well—she needed her prayers. Lastly, she lit one for Professor Snape, spy against the Dark Lord.
Hermione looked at the blaze of candles and swallowed hard. What had this looked like during wartime? She imagined a sea of votives and women pouring in to pray for those going off to fight.
How many more candles would she light this year? Would someone be lighting one for her?
She searched her mind for Sister Mary's recommendation and began:
Thank you, Holy Lord….not for any merit of mine, but only because of your merciful goodness. …may bring about my pardon and salvation, encompassing me with the armor of faith and the shield of a good will.
By it let my vices be done away, all lustful desires extinguished.
The tears rolled down her face as she continued the prayer.
May it advance me in charity, patience, humility, obedience, and every other virtue.
Let it be strong defense against the wiles of all my enemies, visible and invisible, allaying for me every disturbance of flesh and spirit, binding me firmly to you, the one true God, and bringing my last hour to a happy close.
She was almost shaking now as her voice faltered on the words… Let it be a strong defense against the wiles of my enemies… bringing my last hour to a happy close.
Snape felt like he was intruding even on her prescribed prayers, a deeply personal journey. He regretted the invasion of her private pleas, and heard her weeping. He had to protect her from this. The spy shook his head in frustration. How?
I pray, too, that it may be your pleasure to call my sinful self one day to that banquet, wonderful past all telling, where you, with your Son and the Holy Spirit, feast your saints with the vision of yourself, who are true light, the fulfillment of all desires, the joy that knows no ending, gladness unalloyed, and perfect bliss: through the same Christ our Lord. Amen.
Sister Mary entered behind her as Hermione rose. The young girl retreated to the comfort of her welcoming arms and cried into her shoulder.
"There, there, dear. All will be well. God will find a way."
Hermione dried her eyes and returned to Remus. He graciously did not inquire about her crying, but kindly escorted her home.
Sister Mary watched the retreating form of the sweet girl.
She will do well. She'll make the right choice.
Author's Notes:
I reloaded the chapter. I really should proofread when I'm not tired. Thank you for your patience.
Following in the patterns of Hermione, I have had several nights with only three hours of sleep. I took the day off today so I could catch up, and also write more fan fiction !
Thank you so much for the kind reviews! As always I appreciate criticism, even flames… if they are laced with the hidden message of a helpful suggestion.
Magictwinkle: Thank you! I hope not to disappoint. Hope you're still on-line cuz here is the next chapter.
Jade: Poor Pansy. She is in deep shit. We will help her. I thought about having her at church today, but nah. Time there is to save her later.
HarryPotterFreak1234: Yeah there will be potions and spells, but I haven't made them up yet. Snape's gotta figure out something. He has a dilemma. I like saying the word dilemma.
SnapeLover30: Yeah! That album rocks.
Lyress: Sorry about your day, that's why I took the day off. I'd love to have someone to me a cover just so I could hang it. I love that lecture. Especially when Alan Rickman is reciting it.
witch lisa: Thank you!
Ezmerelda: Cynical is good. Mrs. Black ain't all sweet and light. I have one more plot bunny for her.
steph2bwld: Steph… by the way your name is my name too… you are correct on both counts. I'm glad I've hooked you, it will definitely wind up on that boat. I'm glad you like The Burden of Sight. That storyline involving Hermione's heritage has been in my head for twenty years. I just tweaked it for the purposes of Potterdom.
Three AM: Wow! You think so? If you wanna read an amazingly written fic, I love Cloak of Courage, by wendynat. Go check it out. Awesome.
Nore: Cool, you're from Madrid? I swear the www is so neat. How else could our fan fiction friends around the globe unite?! BTW, Texas here- Houston. I love you too.
Marie falcon: Thank you. I love Hermione's character. A nice role model don't you think? She's the hard worker in school that I never was. This fic is all about girl power. I can't wait for her fall term to start. Yes, hg/ss is my favorite ship, or rather Snape's character is too captivating for me to put down. And I could write slash, though I haven't yet.
Azulkan2: Thank you. I've been visiting a lot of calligraphy web sites for terminology and stuff. It's a beautiful pastime which I think is beyond my ability to produce.
xmaverick14x: Sorry… here it is! Only a little cliffie this time.
Ahiwai: Yes, it is a romance, though it'll take some time to get there. Thank you for seeing my oversight. The Boy Who Lived indeed does have black hair. I will reload it. Stupid filmers should've dyed it. And before you ask, books ALWAYS come before movies for me. They are infinitely more important.