Chapter 10: Don't Think
MARK
Don't breathe too deep
Don't think all day
Dive into work
Drive the other way
That drip of hurt
Tat pint of shame
Goes away
Just play the game
-What You Own, RENT
Hermione had found Severus' room with no problem. The small chamber held a king sized bed, a nightstand and precious little else. There was also a small bathroom connected to the bedroom. So this is where Snape's been biding his time since he killed Dumbledore, she thought darkly. Hermione realized she didn't feel the same pain she'd felt when Dumbledore had first died. Perhaps that was because since then she'd watched as a pack of Death Eaters slaughtered her parents.
No matter how much of a father figure Dumbledore had been to Hermione, he'd never replaced her parents. And while she'd been ecstatic to see them again, all the while she was there; she couldn't help but feel a little uneasy. Sadly, she'd learned to deal with the feeling, blocking it from her mind. Despite it, she felt safer in her home than she'd ever felt with her friends, at the Headquarters or at Hogwarts. Unlike Harry, Hogwarts wasn't her home and it would never be.
Hermione went into the bathroom and shut the door. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw her altered appearance. Her brown bushy hair was now sleek, straight and blonde. Her warm toffee eyes were now an aqua blue. Her skin which had been medium before was now very fair. She'd grown at least 4 inches, making her now 5'7. She was beautiful, Hermione could see that. No wonder Draco was smitten. Hermione had enough of looking at herself though. It freaked her out to have someone else's face staring back at her in the mirror.
She splashed cool water on her face and reached for a towel. Her eyes closed however, she knocked over a vial of some sort instead. Opening her eyes, she saw that she'd spilled a vial of bath gel so red it looked like blood was staining the floor. With a flash, she was brought back to that day barely a month before. The memory was still fresh in her mind. If only she'd trusted her instincts. If only she'd warned her parents…if only. A sob escaped her and for a few moments, she struggled to keep herself calm.
Don't think about it Hermione, she ordered herself. Thinking about it made it real. Hermione wasn't sure how long she could avoid thinking about that fateful night, but she was certain she'd find out.
SHSHSHSHSHSH
Severus didn't know what the hell was taking her so long in the bathroom. Women, he thought disdainfully. Not that he'd lived one recently, but his few experiences served as a reminder as to way he lived the bachelor life. And under circumstances such as these, he was infuriated! He was about to knock on the door when he heard muffled cries. What was she crying about? Dumbledore? A wave of guilt passed over Snape. He now had to fight tears from spilling from his own eyes.
I did what had to be done; Severus tried to convince himself with the tired mantra. He wasn't sure how long it would hold him before he had to face his actions, but he was prepared to find out.
SHSHSHSHSHSH
After Hermione had composed herself, she slipped from the bathroom. She had already changed into her favourite pair of pyjamas and was tired, too tired to even want to provoke Snape.
"Do you mind me sleeping in here?" She asked. No that she was especially interested in the answer, but the polite part of her forced her to ask.
"Yes," the unsurprising answer came from Snape. "But there's really nothing we can do about it, is there?" He glided in to the bathroom, complete with his trademark sneer.
Hermione ignored him, slipping between the sheets and falling straight asleep.
Moments later, Snape emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of pyjama pants. Thinking it would raise too many questions by sleeping tin the living room, he took a blanket from a chair and lay on the bed a respectable distance from Hermione. Within minutes, he was fast asleep.