Disclaimer: If I owned this, do you really think I'd be writing A FAN FICTION FOR IT!blinksDidn't think so!
A/N: Hehe, this chapter is "dedicated" to Tipix, a.ka Carey. Without her slave driving personality, I probably would have never overcome my writer's block and finished this chapter so soon!
In Darkness
Chapter Two: Just a Dream
The sun was beating in through the open window, and some where just outside the morning chorus of birds had begun their high-pitched song. With a groan, Hermione pushed out from the desk, her eyes darting around the empty room. She yawned a few times, trying to figure out exactly why she had fallen asleep in the study. As her brown eyes caught the piano sitting on the opposite wall she couldn't help but smile for the first time in what had seemed like months. Remembering the events of the night that had just passed, she stood, grabbing the empty butterbeer bottle that sat on the corner of the large desk. It was cold to touch and she cringed at the unwanted feeling that spread across her fingers and palm.
Sighing, Hermione left the study, determined to keep her thoughts away from Snape. "It's just too weird." She murmured aloud to herself. Turning down the short corridor to her left, she walked brusquely to the end to the large swinging door that led into the kitchen. Taking a deep breath she pressed on the door with her free hand and let it swing open. Usually there was a loud squeak as it swung on its hinges, followed by and ear-splitting band when it hit the opposing wall. Instead of the sounds she had prepared herself for, Hermione jumped and nearly dropped the bottle she was holding when there was a sickening thud and the door shut quickly. Her eyes wide, she leaned forwards to open the door slowly. When she finally got it opened enough to peer inside, she was greeted by a menacing growl and the not-so-happy face of her former Potion's Master.
"Professor Snape! Oh… Oh my… Oh sir I'm so sorry!" Grimacing, Hermione gazed at the older, am as he rubbed his nose, which was clearly swelling at a fast pace. "Professor your nose…" Biting down on her lip she rushed passed him into the kitchen to get some ice.
"Miss. Granger what are you doing? First you nearly break my nose, and now you're running around like a madwoman! Stop that at once! You're making my head hurt more than it already is!" With another groan he sank into a chair and pressed a hand to his forehead.
"I'm looking for ice sir! But there doesn't appear to be any!" She had dropped to her knees and was frantically rummaging through the ice box- which, despise it's name- did not hold any ice.
"Hermione Granger, are you not a witch?" He cried in frustration. Hermione froze and closed her eyes. Ron's voice rang through her head, saying the same words Snape had just said, only seven years ago. She smiled softly as the memory of going down to look for the Philosopher's stone, determined to save it from the same man who was in the room with her at that moment. Shaking her head clear of all thoughts of Ron she stood up and closed the icebox with a snap.
"S-sorry Sir." Placing a hand over her mouth she stifled a yawn. Apparently last night's sleep was not good enough. She thought testily. Reaching into her robe pocket she extracted her wand and with a slight smile she cast a quick charm, a pile of ice landing on the floor at her feet instead of her hand. Sneaking a peek at Snape, Hermione could see that he had raised an eyebrow, his nose still swelling greatly. She reached forwards and grabbed the towel off of the counter before dropping to her knees once more to pick up the ice chunks. Wait- why can't Snape do this for himself? Better yet, why isn't he just casting Reparo and fixing his nose? Hermione blinked hard and grasped the counter to pull her self up, the cold of the ice numbing her hand painfully.
"Professor, are you alright?" She asked quietly, walking towards him with unsure steps. He scowled and snatched the towel out of her hand rather harshly. Pressing it to his nose he gestured for her to sit. She hesitated for a few seconds before dropping unceremoniously into the chair across from him. Feeling slightly out of place, she began to play with her hands in her lap, her mind puzzled with a million different questions at a time. Snape groaned and opened his eyes, glaring at her.
"Quit that Granger." Three words. Three sharp words. Hermione's head shot up instantly and she stared at him with blank eyes. Swallowing slowly, she chose her words carefully and let them slide from her tongue.
"Professor Snape, I don't mean to be persistent or annoying-" He snorted. "But I was just wondering… umm… Are you all right? I mean, you… that is to say…" She closed her eyes, feeling a loss for all words even remotely intelligent.
"No I am not alright, when have I ever been 'all right'. I am alive, if that's what you mean." He icily retorted. She shuddered and sighed folding her arms on the table.
"That's not what I mean Sir. I meant, why can't you cast magic?" She instantly regretted her words, for he stiffened noticeably and closed his eyes, placing the towel on the table gently.
"That, I believe is none of your business Miss. Granger." Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head in disbelief.
"No I suppose not Snape, but seeing as there is nothing else better to do around here, involving myself in your business is a much better way to pass the time." Stupid, stupid, stupid. Hermione, what are you doing? Her mine shrieked frantically. She had long since passed the line of right and wrong- this was just pure out of bounds. And considering the look Snape gave her of pure malice, she was long since dead.
"Miss. Granger hold you insolent tongue this instant! Don't speak of things you do not know. Silly Gryffindor." She sighed and looked at her lap with great interest. Suddenly she felt very ashamed at herself. Why should I be ashamed? What have I done wrong?
"Sorry Sir…" She whispered. The chair scraped as he stood up and out of the corner of her eye she watched as he placed the towel in the sink. The silence was painful to her ears.
"For your punishment you will go up to the library and copy out the whole of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Last time I checked, there was a copy there. I will be back tonight to see that you have completed it." Hermione opened her mouth in shock, and stared up at him with hate.
"That's unfair! No, I will not do it! The only thing I'm sorry for is being concerned! Plus, you can no longer punish me! I am no longer your student, Professor." He growled and stared down at her from his place at the sink, arms folded across his chest.
"Miss. Granger, since when have I ever been a fair man?" He replied silkily. Hermione drew her hands back under the table and clenched her fists tightly. His mouth was drawn in a sardonic sneer, his dark eyes crackling with hatred. That's when she noticed something else glinting in his eyes. Gone was the usual pain, replaced with something else... She squinted slightly, studying him. Passion. She cringed as it hit her, pushing back from the table.
"Never. You've never been a very fair man. I've long since realized that." She hissed. Without another word she ran from the room, escaping the dark presence in the kitchen. She didn't stop until she had reached her shared bedroom on the topmost floor, closing the door and locking it behind her. Her mind racing, she crossed the room to sit on her bed, placing her head in her hands. Well I suppose things could have been odder. First Snape comes in last night, plays the piano, than claims that I am insane. I suppose I could be, but that doesn't exactly matter at the moment. Then this morning he gets hurt, but he doesn't use magic to make things better? And in his eyes… There was passion, for something… But what… She stopped her thoughts suddenly, eyes dancing around the room to look for something that would help seize her thinking. Picking up a book that had been discarded to the floor beside her bed long ago, she lay on her stomach, immersing herself in the world of wands, sparks, and incantations.
"Hermione… Hermione…" A voice called. It was silk to her ears, caressing her body in the smallest of ways. She had long since abandoned her book, and had stood to look out the window into the Muggle Street below. She watched as a few children no older then ten and eleven played. How she longed to leave the magic world behind, how she longed for her childhood that she had forgotten when she entered Hogwarts. The voice captured her attention and she spun from the window, eyes wide. There was no one there though, and she wrapped her arms around her thin body, trying to shed the cold that had sunk into her bones.
"Hello?" She called out, only to receive silence back. She shivered and walked towards the closed door, stopping when something moved out of the corner of her eye.
"Hermione…" Came the whispered voice again. She whirled around, coming face to face with a girl who looked to be younger than twenty or so. She felt her breath quicken before she realized that the girl was, in fact, only her reflection. Stepping closer to the glass she let out a sob that was mixed with both dread and relief. It was just yesterday since she had seen her reflection, but this time she studied it carefully.
"I'm dying. Both inside and out…" She murmured to the silence of the room. Closing her eyes she leaned against the glass.
There was a blood curdling scream and Hermione herself jumped back. She placed her hands to her ears, trying to block out the sound. But it wouldn't leave. She opened her eyes quickly, trying to find the source. She opened her own mouth to scream, as she no longer saw herself staring back, but a monster. It opened its mouth, and Hermione fell back onto the ground, clawing at her ears, trying to stop the sound.
"HERMIONE!"
She awoke with a sudden start, nearly falling off the bed, her head sore. She could only gasp for breath as her body shuddered over and over, her vision spinning dizzily. Trying desperately to calm herself down, she pulled her arms around herself and slowed her breathing down.
"Just a dream… it was just a dream…" She exclaimed, her voice no higher then a whisper. But it was so real! Her mind protested. "It was just a dream." She replied again, arguing with her inner self. Sliding off the bed, she squinted in the darkness. The sun had set a while ago the moon shining threw the open window. I must have slept the day away. She thought with a sigh. Crossing the room, she averted her eyes from wandering to the mirror, opening the door to the hall. That's when she noticed the music.
"Snape…" She hissed. Shaking all thoughts from her head, Hermione made the decent down the dark stairs, making her way to the study once more. The tune, like the last she first heard, was fast and quick, the notes brief. She smiled at the familiarity of it as she reached the last step and paused. "Dare I go in?" Nodding to herself she continued down the hall, fallowing the music that beckoned her.
I'm crazy. I'm insane… I'm… Her mind retorted. She bit back a giggle and opened the door that led into the study. From just outside the doorway, she could tell that the curtains were drawn, and few candles were lit beside the piano. Behind it was the pianist himself. Hermione smiled slightly and she crept to stand beside him as he played. She began to hum along as his fingers coaxed a quick beat out of the instrument.
"Mozart?" She questioned. He nodded slightly.
"Turkish March." Hermione moved so she could see his fingers better as he played. He pressed harder on the keys, almost pounding them as the song spun faster and faster, getting louder with every note. On a rather harsh note it almost silenced for a feat beats before continuing.
"If you don't mind me asking sir, when did you learn to play?" Hermione stole herself for a harsh reply, but it never came. Instead, the man sighed.
"When I was eight or nine, my mother insisted that I learn to play." He replied. Hermione bit her lip slightly and turned her gaze from his hands to his face. His eyes were heavily hooded; his lips were set in a firm line. A few strands of hair had fallen in his face and she suppressed the urge to brush them back behind his ear, cursing herself for having such urges. Watch it Hermione…
"Umm… I'm sorry for my childish behaviour earlier. It was really unacceptable." Snape raised his shoulders in an elegant shrug before nodding. Hermione felt she should say something more, but before she could form any words, he had completed the piece he was playing and had turned to face her, one hand resting on the keys, the other on his knee.
"Is there something bothering you Miss. Granger?" He asked, his voice like silk. She shuddered, remembering her earlier dream. Taking a step back, she shook her head violently.
"No, no sir… Nothing's bothering me. Why do you ask?" She bit her again, trying to seem as though she had nothing to fear in the world. He narrowed his eyes and she instantly cast her own to the ground, trying to hide from the blackening depths and questioning gaze.
"You screamed earlier." Hermione swallowed, her throat thick. It was getting harder to breathe by the minute. She could feel his intense gaze, hunting her down, demanding her to look at him. But she hid from him the best she could, staring at the grown, avoiding his eyes.
"No I didn't…" Hermione commented. Well at least that's the truth. I don't remember screaming at all. Suddenly in one swift movement he was upon her, his hand grasping her chin forcing her to look at him. She cringed as his dark eyes bore into her own, and for a moment she felt as though he could read her soul. Remembering from her 5th year that he was a highly skilled Occlumens and Legilimens, she tried to break eye contact with him, but found that she could not.
"You had a dream… Would you care to explain?" Hermione sighed, her eyes pleading with him to let him go. His own eyes stared at her, studying her face, full of mixed emotions that she couldn't keep track of. Funny how much one's eyes can tell. She thought.
"Professor, please, not now… please?" Blinking once, he let go of her chin, but instead grabbed her arm. Hermione didn't try to pull away, but instead found herself melting from his touch. His hand was cold, long fingers wrapping around her bony wrist. His grip was firm but not painful.
"Miss. Granger, if you were having nightmares why didn't you tell anyone?" His voice was silky still, and she found it almost comforting.
"This was the first one. It wasn't really a nightmare… just… odd." Snape nodded.
"Dreams can often prove to be puzzling." He sighed deeply and dropped his hand, moving back to the piano once more. Hermione felt her knees go weak slightly in defeat, and she slid into the armchair beside the old upright. He flexed his fingers once and began a slow, almost mournful melody. This one too was familiar.
"That's Moonlight Sonate… Beethoven's Mondschein…" she murmured, yawning as sleep began to descend upon her. He nodded, continuing to play. Loosing herself in the music, she felt comforted almost as it wrapped around her, enveloping her in it's repetitive ways, lulling her into a dreamless sleep.
Snape sighed, standing up from the piano. He let his wary eyes take in her form, one hand propped up on the armrest, her hand resting upon it. Her other hand lie in her lap. She looked at least five years older then she really was, dark circles painted under her eyes, her body deathly thin. If this was what she was like only after three months in hiding, then what would happen to her in a year or so? Shaking his head, he reached out to pick up his cloak that he had chosen to wear. It was thicker than his traveling cloak, a deep green in colour. Placing it around the girl's small form he stood back.
"Oh Hermione…" He whispered. Blowing out all but one candle on top of the mahogany piano, he opened the curtains once more, and left the room, making to shut the door behind him.
Alright, If anyone hasn't guessed, the song Snape's playing this last bit here isPiano Sonate op.27-2'Mondschein' 1st mov.by Beethoven.