Chapter Two:
Reunion
Hermione let out a small, trembling whimper as she slowly became conscious, kicking the large, heavy coverlet from her sweaty, hot form. She raised a hand and brushed a few pieces of hair from her moist face. Her eyes opened slowly, taking in the dimly lit room about her, and she pushed herself into a sitting position. She could not help feeling incredibly hot as she pushed the covers as far away from her as possible, watching as they slipped over the side of the bed she was lying upon and landed on the floor with a soft rustling sound. She looked down at her form and found that she was no longer in the tattered nightgown she had been forced to wear at the Malfoy Manor but was dressed in a long, cotton gown. She wondered how she had gotten changed into them and, shuffling backward so that she could get a better look at herself, she pushed a few pillows from the bed as well.
"I would appreciate it, Miss Granger, if you would treat my things with a bit more respect," came an icy voice from the doorway that was unmistakably familiar to Hermione's ears.
She was reluctant to turn to face the speaker but, slowly, she revolved her upper body slightly so that she could see the dark figure standing in the shadows near the door. The man stepped out of the darkness and Hermione had to lift a hand to muffle her gasp. She supposed, later, that she had know it was him the whole but seeing him in person had done little to suppress her amazement at seeing him again, especially after what he had done. Her eyes flashed dangerously as one, Severus Snape, started toward her, a tray covered in potion bottles in hand.
"Wipe that look of disbelief off your face, Miss Granger," he snapped, setting the tray on the bedside table. "It really is quite unbecoming."
Hermione scoffed and made to move away from him but found that the bed was rather small and she was soon dangerously close to sliding off the opposite edge. She watched as he seemed to measure out a dose of light blue potion in a small paper cup before setting it aside. He did the same with very many other potions before he turned to speak to her again, an irritated look set upon his angular face.
"Miss Granger, come here," he snapped, his eyes narrowing and his lip curling slightly.
"I won't," she spat, crossing her arms over her chest. This one little movement caused her loss of balance and she tumbled over the side of the bed, landing on top of the fallen blankets. In a second there was a tall shadow covering her form and she looked up to find Snape towering over her in a way that was a bit too much like Lucius Malfoy for her tastes.
"Miss Granger," Snape bit, offering his hand. "Kindly remove yourself from my floors and cooperate."
Hermione opened her mouth to retort when the door opened once again with a slow creak that caused her to shiver in discomfort. She looked over the top of the bed in slight curiosity to see that it was Ginny standing in the doorway, looking rather inquisitive. Hermione couldn't help but let the feeling of relief wash over her at seeing the younger girl in good heath, bruise-free and with a glint in her eye that said she much preferred whatever lifestyle their old professor offered to the cold and violent one of Lucius Malfoy.
"'Mione!" exclaimed the redhead upon seeing her companion's bushy head on the other side of the bed.
She made good time in crawling over the bed to join Hermione. The brunette could not help but wonder where Ginny had gotten the strength after all of the time spent in Malfoy Manor but decided that the time apart seemed to be doing her good, even if she was in the company of Snape. Hermione, finding that she wanted to know more of what the Potions Master was about, took his proffered hand, though rather begrudgingly. He pulled her to her feet and then allowed her to sit back down on the bed, Ginny joining her, before heading back to the tray where the measured amounts of potions sat. He picked up the first cup and held it out for Hermione to drink. She merely eyed it suspiciously.
Snape rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "I do believe you are to drink it, Miss Granger," came his irritated drawl. Hermione did not take the cup from him.
"How do I—know I can trust you?" she asked and watched as Snape set the cup back down before he fixed her with a firm stare. "After all that you've done?"
"Do you really have much of a choice?" he replied, answering her question with a question. "Unless you would like to be sent back out on your own where Lucius may come upon you once more." Hermione shuddered at the sound of his name and wrapped her arms around her.
She watched as Snape offered her the cup once more and, this time, took it from him, downing it quickly and shaking her head at the bitter taste. She made a face that said it had not been pleasant and Ginny offered and apologetic smile as Hermione took the next cup, going through the same motions. Gulping, wincing, and shaking off the taste. It proceeded this way until she had swallowed five potions. Once the last potion was down, Hermione was quite sure her tongue had relented, shriveled up, and died. She watched as Snape pulled his wand from his robes and tapped the tray, watching it as it vanished.
The brunette took this time to examine her former professor. He had changed a good amount since she had last seen him, a little under a year prior. His hair, which had once been shoulder-length and greasy, had become longer, dropping to the middle of his back and was straight and dull in color, which was the darkest black Hermione had ever seen. His skin was still sickly bleached and his features were more angular and bony, as if he hadn't been eating properly. He still towered over her by two heads and he still possessed the broad shoulders and menacing presence, though she doubted that would ever leave him. His raven black eyes were still keen and seemed to hold more age and wisdom in them. Over all, his appearance had shifted the most but his attitude seemed to be the same, if not worse.
When everything was cleaned up, Hermione ventured to ask a question.
"What is the date?" she inquired, watching as he slowly turned his eyes to her.
"It is November Second," he replied, his eyes fixed upon her, making her somewhat uncomfortable. November Second? It had been a whole five months since the dreadful Lucius Malfoy had forced her into imprisonment. Surely everyone thought her dead. She let out a sigh and sat back against the headboard of the bed she sat upon.
"Where are we?" questioned Hermione, turning toward Snape once more. He glanced about the room.
"You are at my residence on Spinner's End," he said, his voice callous and icy. "Do not try to apparate away, either. I had issued the same enchantments on this house that have been subject upon Hogwarts. My home is unplotable and no one may apparate in or out of it. You cannot apparate and you will not. You are to remain here." Hermione face fell.
"So you are a true Death Eater," she hissed, giving him a merciless look of loathing. "If you were not, you would not be keeping us here. If we wished to leave, you would allow us to."
Snape only gave her a slightly cruel looking smirk before leaving the two girl alone in the room. Hermione let her head bow, letting loose a long and heavy sigh. She jumped slightly when she felt Ginny's hand on her shoulder and looked up to find her friend giving her a weak smile.
"Hermione," she began in a hushed tone, "you've been out for three days and Snape has watched over you with a careful and concerned eye." Hermione scoffed. As if he could or would be concerned for her well-being. Ginny continued, pretending not to have heard Hermione's noises of disbelief. "I was made to endure him three days while you were unconscious and we talked. Hermione, I don't think he is a Death Eater anymore. When I asked him if he would permit us to leave when you were better, he told me the same thing. But he explained more upon my questioning. If we were to apparate from here, Death Eaters could track us quite easily as his house is under…surveillance. Just…just trust him. And if you do not trust him, trust me. I'm not too sure where his loyalties lie at the moment either but being here is better than being at Malfoy Manor. I'm sure you would agree."
Hermione let out a slightly defeated sigh and smiled at her young friend. She nodded somewhat reluctantly. "Alright, Gin," she relented. "We'll stay here for now, but if I feel threatened by him in any manner, I will be leaving. I may not apparate, but, mark my words, I'll find some way to get to Harry and Ron and the rest of the Order."
"Agreed," replied Ginny, smiling a little bit. "I'm sure everything will be okay, 'Mione. We just need to find some common ground with Snape."
"Which we will most likely not," Hermione added, falling back on the bed. Ginny sighed and shook her head. Hermione would not give up her long-standing grudge against the Potions master, even when she was living in his house and being nursed by him.
"Well, I'll leave you to think it over," Ginny said finally, climbing off the small bed and starting for the door. "I'll be in my room which is right beside yours. I mean, they aren't really bedrooms. Mine was an office and yours used to be Snape's lab, but I suppose we all must make accommodations." The redhead's emphasis on the word all led Hermione to believe she was trying to make some kind of point. "Oh, and Hermione? You might want to take a look at the sitting room sometime today. I think you might enjoy it." Hermione listened as the door creaked open and then clicked shut and Ginny was gone.
The young, brown-hair witch rolled over on her side and thought about the lovely predicament she had found herself in. She had gone from living with a violent, sexually addicted, dominating Death Eater to sharing a house with a snarky man who had killed a man who was easily described as the greatest wizard of the era. She did not know what to make of her situation and, she admitted, she would simply have to see how things unfurled in the coming weeks and hope that she did not somehow manage to push herself into a much worse state of affairs.
She remained on her bed for several long moments as she reflected on the past few months. She shuddered as she recalled sleepless nights and sore, busy days. She remembered how she had been nearly starved during her stay and how many times Lucius has viciously broken her protruding ribs during his activities. She grimaced at the thought of how she could hear every scream of pain and distress that Ginny had given while Lucius had his way and how, in the beginning, she had acted very similar. She reflected on the cold cell that smelled of death and blood and rotting flesh. She let a long, agonizing shiver of sorrow and fear run down her spine at her recollections before she pushed them aside and got up from the bed.
She left the room quietly, rubbing her head as she felt the makings of a headache stirring about in her skull. She found a small staircase that seemingly led to a wall. Finding no other way to go as the hallway had ended and her room had been at the other end completely, she started down the stairs. She stopped before the wall and lifted her hand to touch it. She pulled it back quickly as it slid sideways to permit her entrance and then looked about the doorway warily before stepping fully into the room and listening as the door slid shut behind her.
She stopped abruptly once fully in the room, marveling at what surrounded her. The walls were bookshelves themselves and each shelf was full to bursting with old tomes. She wasted no time in running to the nearest shelf and examining the titles on the spines. Her fingers ran over the worn spine of a leather bound book and she let out sigh of contentment.
"Remarkable," breathed Hermione, pulling a book out of a shelf and flipping through the pages, wondering at the Latin scripture upon them.
"Yes, I would like to think my collection is rather impressive," came a low voice from a place nearby.
Hermione looked up and around, finding Snape standing in another doorway, opposite the one she had come in. he was holding a mug that, she supposed, held tea or coffee, as it was steaming. His lean frame was leaning against the doorway as he surveyed her while taking another sip of his drink. After taking her in, he started toward a tall wingback armchair near the fireplace. He pulled his wand out of his robes and flicked it, watching as the flames sprung to life in the grate. After he seemed content, her set his mug on a side table and turned to her.
"Feel free to read what you like," he said in an almost friendly voice, or what could be considered friendly coming from Severus Snape. "I have no doubt you would have anyway." Hermione could not suppress a slight chuckle as she reached for a book nearby. "I would, however, stray from book that are red, as most of them have a tendency either to bite you or curse you, neither of which I am sure you are fond of."
Hermione pulled her hand away from the book she had been aiming for, swerving instead to a dark colored book and pulling it out. She put it under her arm, glanced over the very many other titles, and then moved toward a rather comfortable looking couch beside Snape's chair. Taking in the rather messy room, she was not surprised to find how many dark colors their were. The room was mostly made up of blacks and dark grays with a few tasteful dark brown pieces here and there. This was the kind of setting she had always pictured Snape to live in, if he didn't take his stay in a coffin. She found, however, that the setting was not uncomfortable. After a few moments of getting acquainted with the room, Hermione opened the book to the first page and began to read.