Chapter Three
It's dark. He's alone in the middle of a forest, the trees blocking out any light the stars and sliver of moon might provide. He knows he must get out of the forest, but how? He has completely lost all sense of direction. Then he sees them. Dozens of figures in black robes and hoods, all with stark white masks covering their features. They're closing in on him, wands raised. He feels icy sweat cover his body. A high-pitched laughter echoes in his mind. They're coming closer, closer…
Suddenly, with a flash of green light, he's in a dungeon. A boiling cauldron sits in front of him and he adds the last ingredient, watching as the liquid inside steams and bubbles, turning a sickly yellow color. The potion is finished; he ladles out a measure of it into a bottle, leaves the dungeon with it, and proceeds up the stairs. He reaches a heavy black door at the end of a corridor, knocks, and enters. Kneeling, he presents the vial to his master. "Well done, Severus," says the high, cold voice of his lord. Pale, spidery hands take the bottle and motion forward the prisoners at the rear of the room. The two Muggles, male and female, are dragged forward by robed and masked figures and thrown down on the stone floor. One of the figures takes the bottle and forces its contents down the female's throat. Severus moves to stand behind his lord's chair and watches with satisfaction as she convulses; the screams of the male next to her, obviously her mate, mingle with her own shrieks of agony as she is burned up from the inside out.
The red, slitted eyes of his master gleam with pleasure. "Well done indeed, Severus," whispers the cold voice. "Your new potion will do nicely." The shining red eyes fill his vision and the high-pitched laughter rises to an awful, deafening crescendo—
Severus jolted upright in his bed, shaking, covered in perspiration. The clock on the opposite wall told him it was three in the morning. Gasping for breath, he untangled himself from his sweat-drenched sheets and stumbled into the bathroom in his shorts. He splashed cold water on his face, shivering. He couldn't bring himself to look in the mirror.
Hermione yawned and stretched as she woke up slowly. It's Christmas! she thought as she swung her legs off the side of her four-poster bed. Not bothering to dress, she shrugged her robe on over her pajamas and stepped into her slippers, then hurried down the stairs to the common room, noticing the swirling snow outside a window on the way. Harry was sitting on the floor by the fireplace waiting for her, two stacks of presents before him. "Happy Christmas, Harry," she said, greeting him with a hug.
"Happy Christmas, Hermione," he said as she plopped down on the floor next to him. "Shall we?" He eyed the gifts.
"We shall!" Hermione grinned as they both tore through the wrapping paper and ribbons of identical-looking packages. She grinned wider as they both held up sweaters that were knitted lovingly by Mrs. Weasley. Harry's was bright green with a gold "H" on the front, and Hermione's was light blue with the letters "HG" in silver on the breast surrounded by a badge shape. "Now I don't need to wear my Head Girl badge," she laughed. (Mrs. Weasley was as proud of Hermione's Head Girl status as if she was one of her own children.) They also both received a box of homemade candy from the Weasley family.
"I've got a set of seven Weasley sweaters now!" Harry exclaimed.
"Well, I've only got this one, so you can share," Hermione joked.
When they were finished opening their gifts, they surveyed their "loot." Harry had received Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them from Remus (the page describing werewolves was marked with a Gryffindor-themed bookmark), a giant tub of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum from Tonks, and a single thumbtack from the Dursleys. He also got a wand-care kit from Ron and a subscription to GQ (Great Quidditch) from Hermione, both of which he'd opened with his friends the week before.
Hermione had gotten The Complete Works of William Shakespeare and some sugar-free cookies from her dentist parents, a clay sculpture of a mermaid her fourth-grade sister had made at school, and beautiful sapphire earrings from her grandmother. Harry had given her a very pretty enchanted comb that calmed her frizzy hair a bit, and Ron gave her the slippers she now wore, with a non-expiring warming charm on them so her feet never got cold. Harry and Hermione also got a box each of Hagrid's (in)famous treacle fudge.
"Well," Harry said, gathering his gifts, "let's get dressed and go down to Christmas dinner."
"Alright," Hermione agreed. "Meet me here; I'll see you in a few minutes." She charmed the wrapping paper and bows into the trash bin and carried her presents up to her room. As she was tying her shoes a few minutes later, a rather frozen-looking owl appeared at her window. Who could that be from? she wondered, gazing at the envelope tied to the unfamiliar bird's leg. Walking to the window, an odd sense of dread came over her.
Severus had been sitting in his wingback chair by the fireplace since his nightmare had awoken him several hours ago. He was staring at the Christmas present sitting on the mantle. It was from Albus; as always, the headmaster was the only one to get him a Christmas gift. When the light of the sun coming through the narrow windows at the top of the wall outshone the light of the fire, he rose and took the package down, then sat once more in the wing chair. The wide, thin box was wrapped in shiny gold foil with an avocado green ribbon tied around the whole thing. He guessed that many, many years ago Albus had bought a giant roll of this ribbon, since that was what he and all the other staff members received every year on their gifts, as far back as anyone could remember.
Severus removed the ribbon, then slipped his fingers under the flaps of paper on the edges and pulled. They snapped open, and after sliding a finger under the tape along the edge of the paper, it came away to reveal a gorgeous blank book. It was bound in green leather with a hand-tooled filigree design in silver down the spine and as a border on the front cover. He gasped at the beautiful workmanship. It's got to be elven-made, he thought with amazement. How did Albus find this? True elves, not related to house elves, were almost never seen. They lived in high mountains or dense woods, places no humans ever went. As far as Severus knew, the last sighting of an elf was over seventy years ago by a Muggle, an Oxford professor who became a writer.
Opening the journal, he read on the inside of the front cover: Merry Christmas, Severus! Find a good use for this. Your friend, Albus. Stroking the first blank, creamy white page reverently, he thought, What will I use this for? Something this rare and special needs a special purpose. He rose and placed the book gently in the bottom drawer of his desk and cast several wards on the drawer, then returned to his chair. He was staring into the fire, pondering what to do with the journal, when the flames flashed bright green. Remembering his nightmare, Severus jumped, but by the time a tall blonde man had stepped out of his fireplace, he had composed himself.
"Merry Christmas, Severus," said Lucius Malfoy as he dusted ash off his pale blue cloak.
"Merry Christmas, Lucius," Severus said, still seated. Of all the people he didn't want to see today, Lucius was at the very top of the list.
"Opening presents?" Malfoy asked after performing a cleansing spell on his hair and clothing, ridding himself of the filth one acquired traveling by Floo. He gestured to the ribbon and wrapping paper on the table by Severus' chair.
"Yes, Albus got me a book." He motioned for Lucius to take the other wing chair.
"On something dreary like Potions, no doubt." Malfoy yawned and sat. Severus didn't bother to correct him. "That old fool is still giving you gifts?"
"It would seem so." Severus' anger was rising, though his demeanor revealed nothing of it. Say what you came here to say and then be gone! he thought.
"Hmm. Well." Lucius surveyed the room, taking in the wood furniture all stained the same dark color: the many bookcases filled to bursting with ancient tomes and new volumes alike, the potions cabinet, the desk and matching chair, the coffee table. He eyed the plain green rug that covered most of the stone floor, no doubt comparing it to the spectacular rugs at his home, Malfoy Manor.
"Enjoying your first Christmas out of Azkaban, Lucius?"
Malfoy bristled. "Oh, indeed. Although I'd rather you not tell anyone of my little visit since," he lowered his voice dramatically, "I'm still supposed to be there." He winked conspiratorially.
"Of course not." Severus wanted to steer the conversation clear of this topic now; the glint in Malfoy's eyes made him nervous. "So, what brings you to Hogwarts today?"
"What?" Malfoy asked, acting hurt. "I can't drop by to wish my dear friend a Merry Christmas? You are still my friend, you know, in spite of your blatant betrayal to-"
"Somehow I doubt you would risk your freedom for a mere holiday chat," Severus cut him off. Lucius bristled at the interruption, but continued.
"Well, now that you mention it, there is a little something I would like to discuss with you." Severus said nothing; he just waited for Malfoy to continue. "Draco's grades are slipping."
That was unusually to the point for Lucius, Severus thought. He must actually be concerned.
"It's no surprise that his marks in Transfiguration are low, with that Gryffindor-loving witch as the professor." He made witch sound like he meant the title as something other than a woman with magical powers. "But in his other classes—Herbology, Charms, Potions—he's slipping. His mother and I are quite concerned." Severus repressed a snort at the thought of Narcissa Malfoy being concerned for anything other than her hair or the latest fashion. "So is Draco himself of course. I mean, ever since that revolting Hufflepuff," the word sounded like a curse, "got Head Boy instead of our Draco, he's just been down in the dumps. And I was wondering," Malfoy's ice-blue eyes gleamed with a hint of malice, "if you could do anything about the situation. As a favor to your old friend Lucius."
"Well," Severus said slowly, "I've noticed the boy hasn't been applying himself as of late. He seems distracted. Maybe Quidditch is to blame, or perhaps Miss Parkinson—"
"Nonsense," Malfoy cut in. "The boy knows Quidditch comes second after schoolwork, and Pansy is a lovely girl of excellent heritage and wonderful… assets." His icy eyes sparkled and his thin lips smirked. "No, what I had in mind was a little extra attention from his Potions master."
"Attention" meaning giving the little brat grades he doesn't deserve, thought Severus.
"If his Potions grade were to improve, so would his overall grade. And we know grades are so important in the last year of school, what with N.E.W.T.s coming up so quickly." Lucius rose from his chair, and Severus stood also. "Thank you so much for your time, Severus. I do hope you understand me. I do hope someone—say, Dumbledore—doesn't hear about those embarrassing little personal incidents right after your Hogwarts graduation."
"I understand you completely, Lucius." Severus' hand literally ached to be able to retrieve his wand from the coffee table and curse Malfoy to within an inch of death. How dare he blackmail me? he thought furiously.
"Nice seeing you," he said. "Give my love to Narcissa."
"Will do, Severus. Ta-ta." Helping himself to the box of Floo powder on Severus' mantle, Lucius vanished in a flash of green light.
Severus took a deep breath, clenched and unclenched his fists, and then let out a string of curse words he didn't even know he was capable of saying. His pale face slightly flushed, he threw himself back down in the chair and unconsciously rubbed his left forearm, remembering the "incidents" Lucius referred to. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the chair, trying to calm down. A knock at his front door startled him. What now? He stood and stormed over to the door. Throwing it open, he saw who it was. "Ah, good morning," he said. "Do come in."
Hermione read the brief letter once more, and then sat heavily on her bed, the parchment clutched tightly in her hands. No, no, no, she thought over and over. She felt hollow inside, like someone had ripped all her guts out. She was dizzy, holding back tears. Rising, she walked to her night table where all her gifts were stacked, and picked up the smallest package. Opening the tiny white box, she removed the sapphire earrings her grandmother had given her, and her tears started to flow silently, hotly, down her cheeks.
"Hermione?" she heard Harry call from the bottom of the stairs. "Is everything alright?" Mechanically she walked to the door, opened it, and descended the steps. Catching sight of her tearstained face as she reached the foot of the stairs, Harry gasped. "Hermione, what's wrong?"
Unable to control herself, she threw her arms around Harry's neck and sobbed loudly. Clearly shaken, her best friend patted her back and murmured, "It's going to be alright, Hermione, come on, come sit down." He led her to the nearest armchair and knelt in front of her. "Let me see," he said, gently taking the paper from her shaking hands.
Hermione, (he read)
We didn't know how else to reach you over the holidays, so we went to Diagon Alley and used an owl from the post office. There's no easy way to say this, sweetheart, but Grandma Granger died last night. She just fell asleep in her chair watching television and didn't wake up. The funeral's the 27th, here in London. Talk to your headmaster and find a way to come to us as soon as you are able. We're staying in the Thistle Hyde Park Hotel.
Love,
Mum and Dad
"Oh… oh Hermione," Harry said, rising and hugging her once more, leaving the letter on the table beside her chair. "I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry." He fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
"I'm alright. It just… came as a shock. She seemed fine last time I talked to her… I guess… people just get old." She sniffed and rubbed at her eyes.
"Well let's write a note to your parents, we'll send it with Hedwig. I'll go get paper. I'll be right back, okay?" Harry dashed up the steps to his dormitory room and returned a minute later with a blank sheet of parchment, his eagle-feather quill and a pot of ink. Hermione took a deep breath and wrote,
Mum and Dad,
I think the best way for me to go would be by the Floo network (remember, it's traveling through fireplaces?). I'll meet you in the back room at the Leaky Cauldron this evening before supper time. I'll see you then.
Love,
Hermione
She handed the note to Harry, who said, "I'll run this up to the owlery while you pack. You probably won't want to come to the feast, huh?" She shook her head. "I'll meet you at the entrance to Dumbledore's office in ten minutes, alright?" Hermione nodded, took her parents' letter, and started toward her room. Harry caught her arm and gave it a brief squeeze. "I'm really sorry, Hermione. I know how much you loved her."
"Don't worry about me. I'll be alright." She smiled weakly and continued to her room. She took a small duffle bag from the bottom of her wardrobe and set it on her bed. Into it she put her toothbrush and toothpaste, hair brush, a few pairs of socks and underwear, jeans, jumpers, and her parents' letter. She returned to her wardrobe and laid her hand on the one black dress she owned. She only ever wore it to funerals. Removing it from its hanger, she started crying again softly and noticed the earrings were still held tightly in her fist. She'd wear them to the funeral. Grandma would have wanted her to.
"Come in, Headmaster," Severus said, stepping aside to let in Professor Dumbledore. Much as he hated the holidays (Christmas spirit—please!) and visitors, Severus didn't mind having Albus drop by.
"Merry Christmas, Severus," said the headmaster.
"Merry Christmas, Albus. Would you like a drink?"
"Hot chocolate would be excellent." Dumbledore took the chair recently vacated by Lucius Malfoy and watched as Severus hung the kettle over the fireplace. The Potions master then sat as well.
"Thank you very much for the journal, Albus," he said. "It's exquisite."
"Yes indeed. I thought you might like it." The headmaster's blue eyes twinkled merrily. "Thank you for the calligraphy quill. I tried it out as soon as I opened it, and it produced the most beautiful writing I've ever seen! I shall use it to write all my thank-you notes." The kettle whistled and Severus got up to make their drinks. As he charmed the kettle off its hook and made it pour into two black mugs he'd taken from a low cabinet next to the fireplace, Albus asked, "Are you having a nice Christmas?"
Severus took his time stirring in the hot chocolate mix for Albus and dropping the tea bag into his own mug. "I was until Lucius Malfoy showed up."
"Ah, yes," Albus said, taking his cup from Severus. "Precisely why I wanted to talk to you. What was that all about?"
Severus didn't even begin to ponder how the headmaster already knew Malfoy had visited. The man seemed to know everything. "Nothing much. Gloating that he'd escaped from Azkaban, though it's been six months, and blackmailing me into raising Draco's Potions grade."
"I see. Is that all?" Always tactful, Albus didn't ask what Lucius had used against Severus, nor did he reprimand the professor for favoring students unfairly. He knew the Potions master had his secrets, and knew and approved of the reason Severus gave preferential treatment to the Slytherins.
"Yes, that was all; just the usual Malfoy Christmas cheer."
"And he gave no hint as to how he escaped from Azkaban?"
"None, unfortunately. No news about the Dark Lord or the Death Eaters, either."
"Mm." Albus slurped his hot chocolate quietly. "Well, you'll let me know if you do find out anything more?"
"Of course, Headmaster." They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, sipping their drinks. Albus' company was the only company Severus could and would tolerate willingly for any length of time. He owed the man his life.
His drink finished, Dumbledore rose. "I'd better go get ready for the Christmas feast. I don't suppose you'll be joining us?"
"I'd prefer not to," said Severus.
"Very well. You'll miss some excellent crackers, though. I still have that vulture-topped hat from several years ago." His eyes twinkled once more and Severus walked him to the door.
Severus returned to his chair and sipped his tea, yawning and rubbing his bloodshot eyes repeatedly. Going back to bed seemed like a very appealing thought. Why not? he asked himself. What have I got to do today? Nothing. Not a damn thing. He headed to his bedroom and enjoyed several hours of peaceful, uninterrupted sleep.
Hermione had met Harry at the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office, but when she said "Chocolate truffle" to it (being Head Girl, she was supplied with the password for emergencies), the gargoyle didn't move. "He must've changed the it," she said, trying not to burst into tears again.
"Shh, Hermione, it's alright. I thought he'd still be here, but I guess he's not. We'll just wait, he should be here any minute." Harry patted her shoulder and took her duffle bag from her. In just a few minutes they saw Professor Dumbledore coming down the corridor towards them.
"Miss Granger, Mr. Potter," he said, taking in Hermione's fragile state. "Why don't we go up to my office? Jolly Rancher," he said to the gargoyle, and it hopped to the side. Hermione and Harry followed the headmaster up the spiral stairs and through the carved wooden door into a cozy room where the walls were covered with moving pictures of previous Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses. "Now dear," said Dumbledore as he sat behind the desk, "what's the trouble?"
"My grandmother just passed away, sir. I got an owl from my parents this morning." The portraits muttered sympathetically (those that weren't asleep that is)."I thought the best way to get to them in London was to take the Floo to the Leaky Cauldron tonight. I've already sent a note on to them."
"That's a very good idea, Miss Granger," the professor said kindly. He rose and walked to the fireplace which was snapping with a warm, comfortable fire. After throwing in a bit of Floo powder, he called into the green flames, "Minerva!"
"Yes, Headmaster?" Hermione heard Professor McGonagall's voice from the fireplace.
"Please come to my office as soon as you are able."
"Right away." In a moment, Professor McGonagall was stepping out of the fire.
"Minerva, Miss Granger's dear grandmother just passed on, and I would like you to accompany her to meet her parents in London."
"Of course, Albus." The witch swept towards Hermione and embraced her. "I'm so sorry, dear girl."
Hermione sniffled, but vowed not to cry again. "Thank you, Professor McGonagall." Hermione's head of house was a little like a substitute mother; there when Hermione needed someone to talk to, to give counsel or just comfort.
"Are you ready to go?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes, sir, I've got everything I need right here." She held out her duffel bag.
"Very good. Minerva, you shouldn't be gone too long, I don't think."
"Hermione," said Harry, laying a hand on her arm. "Are you going to be okay?"
"Of course I will. Everyone just stop fussing about me. I'll be fine." Her words were harsh, but her tone was grateful.
Professor McGonagall threw a handful of Floo powder into the fire and said clearly, "The Leaky Cauldron." She disappeared in a whirl of soot and smoke, and Hermione followed after her. They arrived in a moment in a back room of the pub. After dusting themselves off, they proceeded into the front room. Hermione saw her parents and sister already there, waiting at a table against the wall. Her father's eyes and nose were red, and her little sister was trying not to cry as she leaned against her mother's shoulder.
"Oh, Daddy," Hermione cried. She let her bag drop to the floor and rushed across the relatively empty pub to her family's table. Her father stood up and let her fly into his arms, hugging her tightly.
Professor McGonagall brought her bag and set it next to the table. She patted Hermione on the back and turned to go. "Thank you," Hermione called after her.
"Of course, dear." She disappeared into the back room.
Mr. Granger put his arm around his eldest daughter and led his family out of the Leaky Cauldron and back into Muggle London.
Author's Notes: The chapters start getting a little longer from here on out, and the dynamic between Severus and Hermione gets more fun, too! ;) Sorry this went up a little late; that annoying thing they call "real life" got in the way. Heh. I should just say "weekend updates" and leave it at that.
References:
Albus' avocado green ribbon: nearly every gift I have ever received from my paternal grandmother had come wrapped in a ribbon of the same colour. I swear, she must have bought a HUGE roll of it twenty years ago, and just keeps using it!
Kudos to those who got the Tolkien reference!
Review Replies:
pricey-blonde: Thank you! I will certainly keep it up – I can't stop now!
fujutsu: Thanks! It's fun getting inside Severus' head; I like seeing him as more than the cranky old bat of a Potions Master and going beyond his depiction in the canon books.
MagickAlianne: Don't worry about earlier, and thanks so much! I'm looking forward to my next update too!
Hunter0309: I'm definitely going to keep writing. My goal is to have this finished before book six comes out (JULY 16th, BABY!) so there won't be discrepancies between the canon and my story. And yes, no sappy love story here! Telling me I've captured the characters is about the best compliment I could get, thank you! Details and descriptive words are great fun too.
By the way: Y'all should go and read the stories of these people, too! I figure since they've been nice enough to review my story, I should at least plug theirs!
All right, that's about it for tonight, I guess. Chapter Four should be up next weekend sometime (how's that for ambiguous?). See you then!