I have been thinking for days, but I could not come up with a new disclaimer. So please use the old one. No money is made, but ...mhm...maybe I could get a utilisation fee for my disclaimers. No? Okay.
Another thank you again to Samantha-Kathy for being my beta. hugs, kisses
Chapter 6
A few days passed, and Severus realised that he had made a mistake. Accepting her friendship, and being on a first-name basis, had been a fault. He had always kept people at bay; hiding behind a mask had become his very nature. In so doing, he had tried to shut out pain, but he had also shut out every joy that could have been in his life. She had offered her friendship, not knowing what kind of man he was. She was young, and warm-hearted, and, Merlin knew why, she wanted to extend this warmth to him. Denying the existence of friendship, and love, had somehow made life easier for him. Sometimes, he had missed these feelings, and allowed himself to think how his life could have been, if only… But there was noif only . His wrong choice of roads had destroyed every opportunity for him to lead a normal life.
Guilt ate him alive. He had tried to atone for his sins, but as a spy for Dumbledore he had to face all the crimes he had committed as an active Death Eater before. He had to be present at raids, though he always tried to stand aside; he also participated in the usual orgies, and came back disgusted by himself. In his self-loathing and anger, he leashed out verbally at everyone. Only Albus knew what it cost Severus to pretend to be on Voldemort's side. Obviously, the other members of the Order did not think about it. For them, he was the unpleasant, unfeeling, but powerful wizard nobody wanted to socialise with. He had always been too proud to tell them how he was tormented by his deeds, and how he was haunted by nightmares. Coming back from the Death Eater meetings, he would stumble back to his quarters, trying to deal with his pain, always alone. Sometimes he nearly welcomed the pain evoked by the curses Voldemort liked to cast upon his followers; for Snape, they seemed to be the right punishment for his sins. Nobody had ever been interested in him, had ever tried to look behind his mask, nobody had ever cared, besides Dumbledore, who sometimes looked at him with knowing eyes. Inside, Severus felt weak, a shell of a man. Eventually, he had decided not to care anymore, had tried to bury every feeling inside.A better man than you would have been able to make up for your deeds, would have been fair to his students and his colleagues. But you are no good man.
And now there was somebody who cared about him. An eighteen-year-old Gryffindor, the best friend of Harry Potter of all people! She had offered him her friendship, in a short time of weakness. Not that he did not trust her, he did; however, he did not trust himself. It was ridiculous! A young woman had said that she wanted to be his friend, and he was shaken to his core.
The fact that they spent so much time together in the dungeons did not help. Yesterday, when he had entered the living-room early in the morning, he had watched her sleeping form on the sofa, the peaceful face, and the brown curls. While working in his lab, she did not wear the usual robes but Muggle clothing, jeans and a tight, long-sleeved t-shirt that had shown the shape of her figure. Of course, that had not been intentional; she had said that this clothing was simply more practical than the usual wizarding robes, and she was right. Her hair had been tied back in a tight braid, which had revealed a delicate neck. He had also noticed her pretty eyes, with long lashes, and the sensuous lips. Yet, he knew that this would not have affected him at all if not for the friendship she had offered. During the past years, he had been impressed by her thirst of knowledge, and her courage, though he would never have admitted this. Strangely enough, he had even treated her more severely than other students, sometimes nearly cruelly. Some time ago, he had found out that it had been Hermione who had set his robes on fire in her first year, thinking that he was trying to hex Potter. He had also learned that i she /i had been the one who had stolen ingredients from his storage in order to brew Polyjuice in her second year. From the beginning, she had been a remarkable child, which had reminded him very much of himself. He had noticed that her intelligence had made her a loner, and that she would have remained solitary if not for the incident with the troll.
But there the similarity ends. She is a good person, and you are not even worth to live. You are disgusting! If she knew how you have looked at her, she would loath you, if not hex you. Of course, she was oblivious to his thoughts, and he would make sure that she never knew.
Hermione was happy. She had never thought that spending time with her former Potions master would be that enjoyable. Working with him was challenging, and Severus' compliments about her lessons had made her proud in a way that she felt her stomach knot. He seemed to be a little tense though, but maybe that was only the stress he was under. She would do her best to make him feel better. Severus Snape's friend! Even before the faked death of Albus Dumbledore, all her friends would have laughed at her. How could anybody want to be friends with the greasy git? Speaking of greasy, now that she worked for hours in the lab, she noticed that at least part of this resulted from the fumes in the lab. As a student, she had not seen this, because she had had at most double Potions a day. But Severus had not only taught all day, but had also brewed potions for Voldemort, and for the Order.
She had to admit that all uncomfortable feelings in Severus' presence had faded away. They were gone and instead… They were friends now, but when had she begun to see him as a man? She was absolutely sure that she had not had a crush on him when she had been his student. And he was not handsome, would never be. Being thrown together in this situation, could that have evoked these feelings? Discovering that he was vulnerable, that he had a sense of humour, and, she had to be honest to herself, touching him when he was ill, had changed things. Though he was nearly twenty years her senior, she had liked what she had seen; she had never expected what had been hidden under his voluminous robes and countless buttons. When she had watched him during that night, she had often looked at his lips, which had been so different. She had always thought that he had cruel lips, because that was how she had seen them, sneering, smirking, curled and distorted in disdain. But his mouth was really beautiful. The harsh lines in his face had not been there, and it had been an odd sensation to touch him. When he had opened his eyes, and had looked at her, still feverish, and had mistaken her for Lily, she had been captured by his gaze, so full of pain. It was illogical, and ridiculous, for some seconds she had thought how it would be to be touched by Severus.
She had been touched and kissed by Ron before; it had been nice, and she had thought that was how it should be. Nevertheless, she had not understood how anybody would make such a fuss about it, it was okay, yes, but nothing she would crave desperately. And now, she was kind of daydreaming about a man twice her age, and him of all people? What would Harry say if he knew that she had offered friendship, even harboured feelings for Snape? It was irrational.
Hermione wanted to be Severus' friend, but she was not so sure whether that was all she wanted. He would be disgusted if he knew. He had been very clear about that. She banned these thoughts. Why should she muse about something which would never happen? Important matters were at hand.
When Severus had explained his plan, Hermione had been shocked. She knew what would happen to Lucius Malfoy. She did not only know, she was actively involved in the scheme. It was war, and she would help to kill this man.
Lucius Malfoy? What the… The little witch narrowed her eyes. What was Lucius Malfoy doing here in the middle of the night at the Forbidden Forest talking to Minerva McGonagall? At first she had not recognised him, but then he had taken off the hood of his cloak. His blond hair gleamed in the moonlight, and his handsome, arrogant face could not be mistaken.
Nobody knew that she, harmless, little Hestia Jones, was a spy for the Dark Lord. He had ordered her to follow Minerva McGonagall around. Now that Dumbledore was dead, he assumed her to be the successor as the leader of the Order of the Phoenix and wanted to be informed about the plans of the Order. Besides, weird things had happened the preceding weeks. Faithful Death Eaters had disappeared and had been found, obliviated. They had not even known, who they were. Probably, there was a traitor among the servants of the Dark Lord.
But now, that was interesting. Lucius Malfoy was the last person she had expected to see here. She drew nearer, careful not to be noticed. "Professor McGonagall, I am sure this information will be useful for you," Malfoy said. Lucius Malfoy – a traitor!
The Dark Lord would be very interested to know. So far, Hestia Jones had not been able to report anything important for the Dark Lord, who had become impatient. But for this news she would get a reward. Oh, yes, she was looking forward to the questioning.
